#really didn't think anything would come from this...

[lustspren]

Winter Wonderland

Male reader x Karina, Heejin (Lyra), Yooyeon (Nissa) (please don’t bitch about the names again, have some imagination bro idk).

A Red Hot Sloppy Christmas sequel.

word count: 13.3k

tags: elves karina heejin and yooyeon, foursome, oily sex in general, blowjob, anal, assjob, bi, master kink, lot of creampies, rope play, bondage, literally magic cock (i’m deadass serious)

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You had never looked forward to Christmas Eve that much. Never. Not even that time in your childhood when you asked for a Darth Maul lightsaber and a WWE championship belt and counted the days on your calendar every morning. Now you did something similar, but the circumstances were completely different: you were expecting a gift too—a damn nice one, by the way—only this time it was a person.

Well, an elf. The distinction was important.

You had completely neglected to tell anyone about your experience, not even those closest to you. Why? To others it would sound like you took too many hallucinogens that night after dinner with your friends; it was completely stupid, and you knew it. No one would believe you.

But it wasn't like you were too eager to tell anyone about anything either. It was like your wonderful little secret. Like Charlie from Stephen King's Fairy Tale and the secret passageway that leads to the world below: no one could know of its existence, as the repercussions could be catastrophic.

Of course, these 'catastrophic consequences' were just mere conjecture and you were perhaps exaggerating a bit. But what if it happened? Would she never come again? Would you be taken to the North Pole to be judged by an elven court for revealing the secret even if no one would have believed you? These were stupid questions, because in the first place, not a single word would ever come out of your mouth. But still, thinking about it kept you up at night for several nights.

Needless to say, your behavior throughout the year had been exemplary. Normally you wouldn't have needed an elf to tell you that you had to do it in order to really do it; you had always been a kind, helpful, honest man without expecting any rewards for it. But now you knew the reward, and for a whole year you were the closest thing to a Buddhist monk you'd ever been in your life.

So yes, she had to come back. You were sure of it. Mostly to explain to you what the hell happened with... well, you had cummed inside her—a lot—and you thought the baby thing was a joke, but she was too cool and serious about it, and frankly you were terrified by the possibility that there was a mini you with pointy ears making toys and hot cocoa in the North Pole. Not by her existence, but by your absence.

Although, would that mini you really have cared? Would she have told him about you? Questions like that would come and go, turn into a tornado of anxiety and nerves and go away again. You just had the overwhelming need to see her again.

But despite anticipating that day so much, you didn't let your life revolve around it and made plans with your friends as normal. The hangout wasn't all that different from last year: same dinner, same gift exchange, and same drinking session that ended with two of your colleagues lying on the floor stinking of alcohol. You of course didn't let yourself end up in that state, not when you had a pending date at home.

This time you didn't arrive at 1 in the morning, but at 2. You ran up the stairs of the building like lightning, and when you got to your floor you literally ran to your apartment with the keys already in hand. The damn lock was your worst enemy at that moment; you couldn't find the right damn key despite using it every damn day, and when you found it, for some reason it took you longer than usual to finally open the door and go in.

There was a quick way to know if she was really there already, and that was by taking off your shoes. But when you did, the disappointment of not finding the floor frozen like the last time made you sigh. She wasn't there, at least not yet. You weren't going to lose hope. She was surely busy with her elf business.

Unwilling to accept disappointment as a mood at the moment, you hung your trench coat on your coat rack and walked slowly into your living room. Now, the floor might not be cold, but your Christmas tree along with every other decoration was lit, and brighter than usual. That could only mean two things: either the power grid was overloaded and you were about to experience a blackout, or she was coming soon.

For the sake of your sanity you would stick with the second possibility.

The dilemma was now deciding what you were going to spend the time you had to wait on. Several options were running through your head, such as preparing something for her arrival. The thing is, she was an elf, not Santa Claus; you didn't know if the same tastes as the bearded old man would apply to her. It was a silly thing to think about, because who didn't like cookies?

Yes, that's what you were going to do: cookies with a glass of strawberry milk. She was sure to love it.

Decided, you turned around to go to the kitchen, but you had barely taken a step when you heard something behind you, something that made you stop dead: a slight tinkling, almost imperceptible, as if little crystals were brushing against each other in the air. At first it was distant, but as the seconds passed the noise took shape until it sounded like a miniature blizzard. As you turned around, your eyes shined at what was emerging next to your Christmas tree: a sparkling swirl of snowflakes that started small, grew larger until it rose upwards, and slowly materialized into a silhouette. A woman.

Well, an elf. And it's not like you'd seen too many in your life, but she was without a doubt the most beautiful one you'd ever seen. There was no competition, you were sure.

Karina had appeared with her back to you, so she spent a few seconds looking for you on that side of the living room. It wasn't until she turned around that your eyes met. Hers lit up with a cute sparkle, but not figuratively, they literally gave off a little spark the moment she recognized you.

"Master!" she squealed, running with little jumps towards you.

"Karina!" you said back, with a smile so big that your cheeks hurt.

She lunged into your arms, causing you both to fall to the floor. You squeezed her in your arms, both of you laughing.

"I missed you so much, master!" Karina said, kicking her feet, her arms wrapped around your head and her face buried in your neck.

At that moment you noticed something that made you feel like a fool for not having done it before, because it was right in front of your nose. Karina was blonde now. A nice pale blonde that suited her perfectly. And not only that. Her hair used to smell like toasted hazelnut, and now you could smell a faint scent of pine and lavender.

"Really?" you asked with warm cheeks and a silly smile. "I... didn't think you cared that much."

Karina moved away from you and settled herself sitting on your abdomen, with a look of not liking what you had said at all.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" She asked with a frown.

"I mean, uhm... I don't know!" you shrugged. "I thought you'd be so busy at the North Pole that well... you'd have forgotten about me."

Karina fell silent, staring at you.

"You're scaring me," you said.

"Master, you're so lucky that I'm a snow elf and can't commit violent acts!" she held up her finger. "There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of you!"

"I'm sorry! Can you understand me? I spent a whole week thinking that you were just a very lucid dream."

"But I’m not!" she snapped. You had to say that she looked too cute when she was angry.

"Yeah, you definitely not," you replied with a giggle, and brought your hands up to her hair to feel it between your fingers. "But I remembered you... brunette."

"Oh," Karina looked down and saw the strands you were grabbing, then her cheeks turned as red as one of the baubles on your Christmas tree. "That? Well..." her lips curved into a cute smile. "That's what happens to elves when..."

The soft tinkling of swirling snowflakes interrupted her. You frowned and sat up with her still on your lap, and both of you turned to your Christmas tree. This time it wasn't just one swirl, but two.

"Uhm... Karina, what's going on?" you asked, bewildered.

"It seems my sisters remembered that they had to come with me here tonight," Karina said, and she got up from your lap to go stand near the already rising swirls, arms akimbo and head cocked to the side.

"Wait what?" You stood up and went to stand behind her. "Sisters? Do you have sisters?"

"Well they're not my sisters as such, but that's how we call each other at the North Pole," she replied, as snowflakes took shape. "And… here they are."

From both whirls appeared two girls, both as beautiful as Karina. One of them, the shorter one, had long dark brown hair, and her dress was similar to Karina's, only the skirt was more flared and the red was brighter. The other, slightly taller than the first but still shorter than Karina, had short black shiny hair, and her dress, with two pompoms on the chest, was fastened to her neck like a choker with a red bow. Her dress was the same color as the shorter girl's, but it was considerably shorter to show off more thighs.

"May I know what happened?" Karina asked, while the two girls looked around. "You were supposed to appear with me!"

"It was her fault!" the short-haired girl immediately said with a frown, stepping forward while pointing at the other. "She got distracted feeding a reindeer!"

The other girl, unconcerned by the black-haired girl's accusations, stood beside her with a big smile on her face as she skipped around a bit.

"You should have seen him! He was so cute!" she said, then tilted her head at you over Karina's shoulder. "Oh, almost as cute as him."

The black-haired girl looked at you as well, and they both walked past Karina to stand in front of you.

"Is he our master, Karina?" the black-haired girl asked, staring at you with her hands behind her back.

"Aha," Karina nodded behind them, her arms crossed. "Master, this is Nissa," she pointed at the black-haired girl. "And she is... Lyra! Master has not ordered you to do that!"

Lyra had her arms around your neck, and her face was very close to yours. She had puppy eyes, bright and cute, and from what you could sense over that dress, she had a tight, slim body.

"No, but I read his mind," Lyra replied with a mischievous little smile. "And I already know how he wants us to serve him."

Shit, right. They could do that.

You were still, still not wanting to lay your hands on them from the slight shock you had.

"We must wait for master's orders anyway, silly!" Nissa scolded, and with a tug she pulled her away from you. "It's rule number one!"

"But rules are a pain!" Lyra complained.

"Silence, both of you!" Karina said, and pushed them away to stand between you. "Well? Do you like your gift, master?"

“I…” Your gaze went to Lyra, who seemed eager to be ordered around, and then to Nissa, who looked much calmer and more cautious. “I don’t understand, why are there three of you here now?”

Karina let out a giggle.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She cocked her head. “Because of how good you were this year!”

Lyra and Nissa nodded.

“Very few were as good a person as you, master,” Nissa said. “Your name was on a list of only two thousand people.”

You raised your eyebrows. Two thousand people. 8.025 billion people in the world, and only two thousand. Boy you were screwed as a society.

“And of course Karina set herself aside exclusively for you!” Lyra added. “Then we were ordered to come with her.”

“And that’s why there are three of us instead of one, master,” Karina finally said. “Triple fun, don’t you think?”

"Triple fun indeed..." you nodded, looking at the three of them carefully. But your gaze ended up landing on Nissa. "Is there a reason why your dress is so short?"

You knew the answer: nice fleshy thighs. But you hoped she would use her powers to make you confirm something. Nissa didn't disappoint you, as she turned around, looked over her shoulder at you, and lifted her dress to confirm your suspicions: her ass was pretty and round, and very spankable.

"For this, master," she said. "Because I know you can have fun with it. Come, touch it please."

You reached out and placed your hand on one of her buttocks. You took a few seconds to feel how soft it was, and when you squeezed it, it felt like a delicious marshmallow.

"Very nice..." you nodded, removed your hand, and then looked at Lyra. "And what about you? Any qualities you'd like to highlight, darling?"

"I'm tight, master," she grabbed your other hand, bringing it under her dress and then between her legs to let your fingers against her slit. Instinctively you rubbed it over her panties. "Very, very tight."

"Fuck..." you muttered and then looked at Karina. "And what about you?"

"Me?" Karina pointed at herself. "I'm yours, master. For a year now. Do you need me to say anything else?"

"Absolutely not, come here," you said, and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her into a kiss.

Karina welcomed your lips with a cute sigh, as if she had been waiting for that kiss as much as you. She clung to your neck with both arms, one hand on your back and the other in strands of your hair. You roamed your hands over every corner of her body: waist, back, arms, thighs and ass, each part slightly fleshier than last year.

"Girls," you said, pulling away from Karina's lips for a moment. "Feel free to read my every thought and act on it as you see fit."

"Yes, master," you heard them both say as you kissed Karina again.

Lyra immediately latched onto the left side of your body and began to fill that side of your neck with kisses, one hand on your abdomen under your sweater and the other on your lower back. Nissa got behind you, and with Lyra's help she pulled your sweater off. She then planted her lips on your back, tracing a path of kisses that covered your shoulder blades, your nape, and the side of your neck that Lyra couldn't reach.

When your kiss with Karina got intense you let yourself go, pulling down the top of her dress to let her tits fall and pulling up her skirt so you could squeeze her buttocks between your fingers. Lyra unbuttoned your pants, and Nissa slipped her hand inside your boxers to grab your cock. The touch of her fingers felt cold at first, but she must have used her powers in some way, because within seconds her hand started to feel warm against your skin; that felt amazing, especially when she cupped your balls and massaged them, now with one hand rubbing your chest.

Lyra lowered her kisses from your neck to your collarbone, and then slowly moved down your chest until she got on her knees and reached your abdomen. She placed wet kisses there, slowly around your navel and near Nissa's wrist as the short-haired girl stroked your cock under your boxers. Your pants were a nuisance when she tried to lower her lips further, so she grabbed them from the curb and, along with your underwear, pulled them down to your ankles.

"Oh... your cock looks delicious, master," you heard Lyra say, and then you felt her lips on your thigh, near your crotch. Nissa was slowly stroking you, and now Karina was also playing with your balls with her tits pressed to your chest.

You pulled away from Karina's lips, looked down at Lyra, and put a hand on her cheek to rub it with your thumb.

"Wanna taste it?" you asked between gasps, as Karina and Nissa were fondling your cock in all sorts of ways.

"I do what my master..."

"No," you interrupted her. "Just answer my question."

Lyra looked into your eyes, and held your gaze as she took your cock between her cold fingers. Karina and Nissa took the cue and knelt down as well, Nissa taking the right side and Karina the middle. It was then that Lyra, without foreplay or warning, took you into her mouth to slowly suck on your cock, between long moans and deep breaths. She pulled out within seconds.

"I'd love to, master," she replied, and along with the other two girls began to fill every corner of your shaft with wet kisses. "Even if it barely fits in my little mouth."

"Then come on," you said between gasps, watching the three girls soak your cock with their lips. "Have fun with it."

"Master," Karina said, as Lyra and Nissa each took one of your balls to lick and suck on. "May I use my powers on you?"

You frowned.

"For what?" you cocked your head.

Karina smiled, bringing a finger to your tip to collect a drop of precum and bring it to her mouth.

"You'll see," she said, and gave your tip a lick. "For now just enjoy."

With that said Karina was next to take you inside her mouth. You immediately had flashbacks of your past encounter with her; it felt just as warm, and she kept her skill with her tongue intact. The pace she kept was also the same: slow, deep, making sure your cock was covered in her saliva. You moaned a few times, and she imitated you, horny just by the fact that she was giving you so much pleasure.

You wanted Nissa to be next, and so your wish was granted. The black-haired girl waited patiently for Karina to take you out of her mouth to take you in hers. Like Karina, Nissa pumped her head slowly and torturously, gently sliding down every inch of your cock as she could thanks to how slippery it was.

Lyra was eager to take her turn as well, and you could tell she was getting very impatient, because she was moaning over and over again, kissing the inches of cock that Nissa didn't have in her mouth with her hands clinging to your thighs. In your head you gave the order for her turn to be given, and Nissa complied immediately.

"Fuck, finally," Lyra said, and took your cock in one hand before sinking her mouth there.

For the first time, you felt like how you liked things wasn't the most important thing, because as soon as she caught you between her lips, Lyra started pumping her head like a demon, fast and disastrous, in complete contrast to the work Karina and Nissa had done so far. You weren't bothered by it, on the contrary it got even more moans out of you. But the other two girls seemed confused, since they knew that those weren't your preferences.

If that wasn't enough, Lyra surprised you by taking you completely inside her mouth. You expected that because of the size ratio between your cock and her mouth she would gag, but that didn't happen. She kept you in her throat while the saliva poured out in thick drops. Seconds later, she kept pumping her head like nothing, until without even noticing you came inside her mouth.

"Oh my fucking...!" You brought your hand up to cover your mouth in order not to curse anymore, as Lyra milked your cock using her lips and fingers at the same time. She swallowed every drop, letting the saliva spill out but not your load, and after a few moans around your shaft, she pulled out to show you her cum-filled mouth.

"M-Master... did you like that?" Karina asked, afraid that Lyra might have been too reckless.

"I..." you gasped, looking down at Lyra as she swallowed your cum. "I loved it."

Karina and Nissa sighed in relief. Lyra just smiled from ear to ear.

"Very well, now look at this," Karina said.

Karina placed her outstretched hand beneath your cock, and with a subtle flourish of her fingers, caused a cold blizzard of tiny, sparkling snowflakes to spread across every inch of your shaft. When the blizzard cleared and she finally took hold of your cock to stroke it, you felt no trace of sensitivity whatsoever.

“What the...” you raised your eyebrows. “That’s… perfect!” you chuckled. “What else did you do?”

“Your cock won’t go limp unless you want it to,” she replied. “And you can give us as many loads as you want, master.”

“Does that mean my cock is magic now?”

That got a giggle from her.

“You could say so.”

“Great,” you smiled. “Shall we go to the bedroom?”

“We’ll go wherever you want, master,” she said.

“Follow me then, please.”

You helped the three of them to their feet and led the way to your room. Inside everything was neat and tidy; you had made sure of that before you left your house that night, thinking exclusively of that moment when you would have to greet a pretty elf—three, in this case. They entered first, and you closed the door behind you before moving around them and going to sit on the bottom edge of the bed.

“Nissa, come here sweetheart,” you said, your hands resting on the mattress.

Nissa walked over to you, standing between your legs and turning her back to you, to lift her skirt and sit right on top of your cock, squeezing it between her buttocks. She ground her hips back and forth, rubbing herself against your shaft with her hands on your knees. You brought your hands to her waist and then slipped one under her dress to rub her lower back.

“You like my ass, don’t you master?” Nissa asked, looking over her shoulder at you with her lips slightly curved.

"Oh I love it..." you replied, watching your cock being kneaded between her ass cheeks. "It's so fucking pretty."

Karina and Lyra, of course, knew exactly what to do even if you weren't going to speak directly to them. They each climbed into bed with you, Lyra on your left and Karina on your right, both kissing either side of your neck and groping every part of your upper body.

You hadn't indulged in laying your hands on Lyra, so you reached out and wrapped an arm around her small frame to press her against you. She immediately sought out your lips, and upon finding them you merged into a messy, tongue-swirling kiss. Her dress screamed for you to unwrap it like a nice Christmas present, which you did with the help of the hand you had on her back. The garment gave way quickly, and now Lyra was completely naked except for her panties and boots.

You did the same with Karina, an even easier task than the first since you had already done half the work a few minutes ago. You squeezed them both against you, Lyra with her tight, toned petite body and Karina with her heavy tits. You kissed Karina first, but only took a few seconds before moving back to Lyra and her restless tongue. Despite this inclination, for both bodies you devoted careful attention with your hands, emphasizing both asses and both already wet pussies.

Nissa was still working on your cock. She had pulled off her panties, and had slobbered on your cock with her hand to give you an assjob that had you panting against Lyra's lips. At one point, her ass felt so good that you couldn't help but grab your cock, have her rub the tip between her folds, and straighten it so that Nissa impaled on every inch.

"Mmmmgh!" Nissa moaned, holding on tightly to your knees with your cock all the way in her warm, wet pussy.

"You like the way it feels, sweetheart?" you asked panting, and gave both of her ass cheeks a squeeze so she began to slowly move up and down.

"I'm the one who should be asking you that, master," she replied, looking straight into your eyes as she moved over every inch of your cock.

"Just answer," you insisted, one hand now on her lower back. "And take off that dress."

Nissa complied, taking a few seconds to pull her dress over her head. Now completely naked—except for her boots, like Karina and Lyra—she bounced ever faster on your cock, filling your room with cute moans.

"I love the way it feels, master," she moaned. "You'll make me cum a lot tonight, won't you?"

"Only if that's what you want," you said, giving her a small spank that made her moan louder. "Is that what you want?"

"Why does it matter what I want, master?" Nissa managed to ask despite being so agitated. "We are your gift this Christmas. What you want is what matters."

"Wrong," you gasped, reaching out again to grope Karina and Lyra's asses. Lyra's was firmer, and Karina's was fleshier. "None of this makes sense to me if I'm the only one enjoying it, so I do care a lot about what you want."

You heard Karina giggle to your right.

"And that's why you earned the three of us here, master," she said, and grabbed your face to make you kiss her again.

Nissa slowed down considerably, but now she moved harder and deeper. Surely that had a lot to do with what you had told her, because every time she slammed her ass into your pelvis she moaned long and hard. She was one of those girls, noted.

After a few seconds of kissing Karina you moved back to Lyra, while you pulled down both pairs of panties enough so you could play with both pussies comfortably. You put a finger in each one, pumping at a steady pace. Lyra moaned against your lips, and Karina clung tighter to you with one hand on your arm and the other on your shoulder.

"I want to eat your pussy," you gasped against Lyra's lips. "Both of you. You know what to do."

Karina and Lyra got down to business, while you just let yourself fall back to lie down and let the magic happen. They both turned their backs to you, separated their knees and moved a little towards you so that you had both asses on either side of your face, which you just had to turn a little. Now, with minimal effort, you could have a whole ass feast, quite literally.

You first turned to the right and focused on Karina's pussy, delighting in that exquisite taste you missed for so long. Not long after, you turned to the other side, now tasting Lyra's tight little pussy. You alternated between each one, unable to give more attention to one than the other. Nissa, on the other hand, had now returned to the usual rhythm, and bounced again and again against your cock until she finally came.

"C-can I keep going master?" You heard her say as you had your mouth buried in Lyra's pussy. "I've never felt this fucking good and… mmmgh!"

"Let me do it for you baby," you said, and sat up to stand with her, turn her around and make her get on her knees at the edge of the bed. She dropped forward immediately, hands on the mattress and ass up for you. "Oh, you can do like... things with each other? You know."

"We're not related," Lyra replied. "So you can safely order her to eat our pussies, master."

"You heard her, sweetie," you told Nissa with a couple of pats to her lower back before taking the reins and fucking her hard from behind.

Lyra and Karina lay on their backs next to each other, pulling their legs up to their torsos to hold them there with their own arms, making it easier for Nissa to do the job as you hammered her pussy like you were doing.

Nissa moved from side to side between moans, making sure to be even with the use of her mouth and tongue and even fingering them. The first to cum was Lyra, who had been horny for quite a while now and it wasn't hard to get her over the edge. Seconds later it was Nissa herself who came, unable to contain the pleasure already building up in her body. It wasn't until half a minute later that Karina came too, thanks to the joint work of Lyra, sucking on her tits, and Nissa, eating her pussy and fingering her.

"Only you're missing, master," Nissa said between gasps, looking over her shoulder at you. Her face was flushed in every corner, and her raven hair was messy. "What are you waiting for to fill my warm elf pussy?"

Your response was a spank that made her squeal. Your climax was pretty close, but the trigger was seeing at that very moment how Lyra and Karina kissed in the hottest, messiest, and mind-blowing way possible. You grabbed onto Nissa's waist, and with one hard thrust you came inside her between moans.

"Mmmgh yes, just like that," Nissa moaned as you filled her pussy, one side of your face resting against her crossed arms. "That feels good huh?"

"Oh it feels amazing, fuck," you gasped, hands on her buttocks. When your climax passed, you pulled out of her and took a step back. "Aight... the first one to get to clean up will be next."

Karina's reaction time was so fast that she didn't even give Lyra a chance to move. Within a couple of seconds she was already at your side to bend down and clean your cum from Nissa's pussy, while Lyra was still on the bed, with a frown and a slight pout that you found adorable.

"Don't be like that, cutie," you told Lyra with a smile. "If you know what I have in mind for you right now, you'll know that it will be worth waiting a little."

Lyra looked at you for a second, and the pout transformed into a small knowing smile. She pulled out a hand, and made a pair of ice-white but sturdy-looking handcuffs appear in her palm. But that wasn't the main attraction. A few seconds later, tied to her body appeared a series of red ropes, intertwined across her entire torso; these formed a star on her chest, with her tits protruding on either side of the lower point while the upper end was around her neck and the side ends under her armpits. The abdomen part formed a diamond with her belly right in the middle. She didn't have any limbs tied at the moment, so she could still move freely. For now.

"You're very naughty, master," Lyra said with a giggle, pulling Nissa towards her to remove her dress and leave her on equal terms with her and Karina. "Luckily for you, I'm very happy being naughty."

Karina grabbed your chin and made you look at her.

"Hey, you'll have time for her," she said, pressing herself against you so you could wrap your arms around her. "I won."

It was the first time she spoke to you like that, directly and without formalities, as if she were your equal and not as if you were a person superior to her. It was strange not to hear her call you master, but it drove you crazy.

"Yeah, keep talking to me like that," you smiled, bringing a hand between her buttocks to rub her folds. "It makes me want to fuck you even harder."

Karina tilted her head and smiled back at you, bringing her hand down to rub your cock.

"Oh yeah?" she said, then bit her bottom lip. "Then fuck me hard. I dare you. Fuck me until I cry."

It felt bad to know that you would have to make Lyra wait a little longer, but the way Karina had said that had struck a chord in you. It wasn't your fault tho, how could you not comply with such a request? It would be a sin not to. Besides, you had the perfect idea.

"Lyra, darling," you said. "Will you please let me have the cuffs?"

"All yours, master," she said now on top of Nissa, making out with the short-haired girl as she handed you the cuffs.

"I thought you would use that for Lyra, master," Karina said as you reached out an arm to take the cuffs.

"I found a better use," you replied, and turned Karina around so that her back was to you. "She'll already have the ropes."

"And what do you think... oh!" Karina trailed off as you made her bend down as far as possible without bending her legs. Then you pulled her arms straight up, held her wrists together, and put the handcuffs on.

"Just like that," you said, and with one hand holding her wrists, you took your cock and slowly took it inside her, in one smooth movement that made you moan out loud.

"Mmmgh fuck!" Karina moaned, tensing her entire body at the inability to move. "Oh yes, do whatever you want with me master. After all I'm just your pretty sex slave. Pound my pussy hard and fill it with your warm load."

God damn. What would the bearded old man think of her if he heard her talk dirty like that? It definitely wasn't your problem, and since it wasn't, you started fucking her like you'd been wanting to do for the past 365 days.

Karina brought out her obedience and durability from that moment on. You fucked her fast, hard, pounding her from behind with such force that the thrusts reverberated through the room, and despite that, she held still for you without complaint, perfectly assuming her role as sex slave.

"Don't you think it would be nice to see those pretty ass cheeks lit up in red, master?" Lyra asked from your left, kneeling at the edge of the bed with Nissa behind her kissing her neck and rubbing her clit.

You held Karina's wrists with your right hand and reached out with your left to reach Lyra's pussy and slide two fingers inside. She moaned and held onto your wrist with one hand, while the other was behind to grab Nissa's nape.

"Very good," you nodded between heavy panting breaths, focused on keeping up the pace. "But you'll be the one to decide if it's enough."

"Count on it," Lyra moaned as you pumped your fingers in and out of her pussy, which you could already get a sense of how tight it was.

Taking advantage of the fact that Karina had no choice but to keep her arms in that position, you let go of her wrists so you could drop the first spank. Of course, one wasn't enough; at least ten more followed, making Karina whimper until Lyra gave you the signal to stop.

"Oh look at that master, they're beautiful," she pointed at Karina's ass cheeks between gasps, as you were still fingering her and Nissa was making quick circles on her clit.

Karina's ass cheeks were indeed beautiful beneath that pigmentation: bright red, the color of Lyra and Nissa's dress. She looked over her shoulder at you, and you smiled as you noticed you were complying with her request as she was crying out in pleasure.

"You like that baby?" you asked, clenching your jaw as you hammered her pussy.

"Yes!" she screamed instantly. "Yes fuck yes! And I'm going to... mmmgh!!"

Karina exploded into spasms, her trembling legs about to give out. You slowed down considerably so she wouldn't be overwhelmed, and that allowed you to focus on Lyra.

"And you?" you asked, adding a third finger into her stiflingly tight pussy. You pumped fast, as much as you could with your non-skilled hand. "Cum, cutie, and look into my eyes."

Lyra held your gaze in a show of unconditional obedience, even though her face looked like it was about to melt with pleasure. Only a few seconds later your and Nissa's work finally paid off, when Lyra dug her nails into your wrist and climaxed with a long moan that made your eardrums vibrate.

As Lyra came, you pulled your fingers out of her and let Nissa take over since you weren't done with Karina yet.

"Nissa, baby, push her away," you said, referring to Lyra.

Nissa nodded and picked up Lyra to carry her to the side of the bed, leaving that space at the edge free for you to make Karina get on. The blonde girl settled herself with her ass raised, knees wide apart and face against the mattress. You removed the handcuffs, only to bring her wrists together behind her back and put them back on. Then, with both hands clinging to the front of her thighs, you continued fucking her with all your might.

Karina whimpered against the mattress, biting the sheet and shedding tears. Her body was still shaking from her recent orgasm, but she was happy with that, with you using her without mercy or care. That's what her eyes told, fixed on you while her face went through every possible phase of pleasure, from twisting to complete paralysis, state in which she stayed until she came for the second time.

The time you gave her to assimilate it was minimal; you didn't want to stop for a second, and you were dying to cum again inside that perfect pussy. The non-stop thrusts made her growl deep in her throat, and also made her bury her face in the sheets to muffle her screams. She came a third time, but this time you joined her.

"Mmmgh fuck!" you growled between slow thrusts, putting your hand on the back of Karina's neck to press her face into the bed and fill every corner of her pussy with cum. "Fuck I missed this so much!"

"Yes master, fill me up!" Karina squealed, writhing in pleasure. "Make me more yours than I already am!"

"Is that even fucking possible?" you gasped, balls deep inside her, waiting for your climax to pass before you pulled out of her pussy. "God, I'm sorry, I'm cursing too much."

Lyra let out an incredulous laugh, looking at you lying on the side of the bed.

"Master, you have ropes tied to my body and your biggest vulgarity is swearing?" she asked with a giggle.

"Nissa, clean Karina up, sweetie," you ordered her, and climbed onto the bed to grab her chin and plant a sweet kiss on her lips. "I promise to reward you later."

"Even if you didn't, I'd be happy to do anything you say, master," she smirked at you, her hand over yours.

"And that's why you deserve to be rewarded," you winked at her. "Come on, go. I have work to do."

Nissa nodded, moving past you and going to take care of Karina. Lyra then settled herself right in the middle of the bed, a mischievous little smile on her face and her legs spread wide. You quickly positioned yourself on top of her, hands flat against the mattress on either side of her shoulders. Your cock rubbed against her pussy underneath, and she raised her hips to seek more contact.

"Let's see how tight you say you are," you said as you looked into her eyes, to grab your cock and take it inside her, little by little.

And fuck, she wasn't wrong. In fact, her own words didn't do justice to how truly tight that piece of tender flesh was. Lyra smiled mid-moan. It was a cocky smile, as she knew she was completely right by the way you were panting.

"You like it huh?" She asked with a giggle as you were just a few inches away from reaching the bottom of her stifling walls. "Isn't that the tightest pussy you've ever been inside of, master?"

"Oh fuck yes," you gasped, and gave one last quick thrust to let the entirety of your length inside her. "You didn't use any powers, did you?"

"Of course not!" she replied with her hands on your shoulders, visibly offended.

"I had to ask," you shrugged, and leaned into her to crash your lips together and begin rocking your hips back and forth.

Lyra put her hands on your neck and moaned against your lips, keeping her legs open for you to fuck her pussy gradually harder. She had something special for sure. It could be that sassy attitude she carried around that you found so fucking sexy, but it could also be that tight, toned body, or that beautiful face that glowed every time she smiled. Whatever it was, that girl's spark felt like something you could easily become addicted to.

The initial plan was to use the ropes and fuck her in different ways and positions, and while the plan wasn't off the table, you were determined to postpone it just a little bit just to take advantage of every second you had with her and enjoy as many experiences as possible. The good thing was that with this girl you were sure there were no regrets, because every second you spent thrusting in and out of her was a second in which your obsession with that tight little body only increased, and this was entirely due to her merit, because her body language was bold, wild, unleashed. As if she completely forgot the role she was supposed to be fulfilling.

"Does my tight pussy feel good, master?" she asked between moans, as you pumped fast and hard. You held her by the thighs, pressing her knees to the sides of her torso.

"Overwhelmingly good," you gasped, looking into her eyes.

At that moment you felt someone behind you, who wrapped both arms around you and caressed your abdomen and chest. When you felt her tits you knew it was Karina, exhaling hot breath near your right ear. Nissa showed herself on the left; she laid on her side next to Lyra, just to watch you fuck her.

"Make her cum, master," she murmured in your ear. "But choke her, she loves it."

"How do you...?"

"Just do it."

You brought your hand to Lyra's neck, gripping it with five fingers to squeeze hard. The reaction was immediate. Lyra let out a moan that didn't come out of her throat, and held onto your wrist with both hands. Her walls tightened around your cock, making you moan as well. As a final trick you added an extra gear and hammered her pussy with all your might. Not even 10 seconds passed when Lyra's back arched and her body shook in a violent orgasm, unbecoming of an elf according to the little information you had about them.

"I told you," Karina said with a giggle, as Lyra came on your cock. "Are you going to tie her up now? I can do it for you if you want."

"You already know how I want her, so do your thing," you nodded, and let go of her neck.

Karina snapped her fingers, and in the blink of an eye Lyra now had more ropes tied to her body. Her arms were bound, crossed behind her back, and she had another pair of ropes tied to her shins from her thighs. Lyra noticed this and looked down at herself, then smirked at you.

"About time," she said.

"Fuck, that's hot," Karina said from behind you. "Do you want me to do something with her, master?"

"Not for now, sweetheart," you replied. "Right now the orders are for Nissa."

She looked at you, awaiting what you were going to say to her.

"Sit on her face," you pointed with your chin. "Right now Lyra will be ours."

Nissa was happy to comply. Within seconds she was on top of Lyra's face, thighs on either side of her head and hands on her small tits. Lyra stuck her tongue out and ate at the short haired girl's pussy, who moaned and slowly ground her hips.

With that hot scenery in front of you, you continued fucking Lyra's pussy, this time with your hands on her petite waist and Karina kissing your neck. Nissa looked into your eyes, fucking herself against Lyra's face and squeezing her tits, and you were going crazy at how good Lyra's pussy felt and how hot she looked tied up.

"Karina, love, touch her," you said, looking at her over your shoulder. "I want to see how many times she can cum before I do."

"Yes darling," she said in your ear, and went to lie down next to Lyra.

You felt your cheeks heat up, and not because of how turned on you were, but because of being called 'darling' by Karina. It was a small reverie that took you a while to snap out of, but now you couldn't get it out of your head, not even when Karina started rubbing Lyra's pussy and sucking on one of her tits until she came.

Lyra moaned against Nissa's folds as her legs and hips shook. You fucked her through her orgasm, and Karina kept touching her as well. You made eye contact with Karina, and one nod was enough for her to snap her fingers again and the way Lyra was tied up changed. Now her legs were together and raised, and her wrists were tied to the sides of her calves.

With your hands on her thighs you kept thrusting like a madman, making each blow reverberate through the room. Nissa came within seconds, her thighs pressed on either side of Lyra's head, but she kept grinding her hips, not a hint of a sign that she would stop. Maybe it was due to the fact that you wanted her to do whatever she wanted to seek her own pleasure. It hadn't been an order as such, she had simply decided herself. Fine by you. The less orders you had to give, the better.

You and Karina made Lyra cum again as the seconds passed. Her moans came out louder, and the vibrations made Nissa cum for the second time in a row, only now there was a little surprise.

"Oh damn!" Nissa moaned with a hand on her mouth as she lowered herself off  Lyra's face, realizing she had squirted on it.

"What the..." you raised your eyebrows, now pumping slower against Lyra's pussy.

"I'm sorry Lyra!" Nissa said, looking at the girl's soaked face, worried.

"Are you kidding?" Lyra asked, gasping for air, as if she had run the Tour de France. "That was fucking hot, let me fucking kiss you right now."

"Are you... sure?" Nissa tilted her head.

"I would pull you in for a kiss right now if my hands weren't tied."

Nissa didn't hesitate to lay down beside her, on the opposite side of Karina, to grab her by the neck and kiss her. You started moving again, and now Karina got up to kneel behind you again, running a hand in front of you and bringing it to your balls to hold them while you fucked Lyra in search of another climax.

"Come on baby, fill that tight little pussy," Karina said in your ear, then sucked on your earlobe. "I feel those balls full and ready to cum inside that petite body."

Karina kept calling you all those cute words, and you thought you would explode with love at any moment. Thinking about it distracted you again. Lyra, thankfully, drew your attention back to her by breaking the kiss with Nissa and looking you straight in the eyes.

"Oh fuck fill my pussy already, master!" she squealed. "I need that fucking load inside me!"

Karina snapped her fingers, and a rope appeared around Lyra's head at the level of her mouth to keep her quiet. You hadn't commanded that.

"Hey, watch that mouth!" Karina scolded her. Ironic.

Lyra frowned, frustrated for a moment by the inability to speak. But when you gave Karina the mental command to make the ropes holding Lyra's legs and wrists disappear and only the ropes around her mouth and torso remain, you had her moaning and biting the rope as you pounded into her pussy as if she hadn't already cum three times before.

With Karina holding your balls and exhaling hot breath on the back of your neck, it was easy to reach the downhill slope that would lead you to your climax. You clenched your jaw, leaned forward a little, and now put two hands on Lyra's neck, both squeezing until every sound that came out of her throat was cut off. In the final stretch you got quicker, at a pace you didn't even know you were capable of, until with one last sudden thrust, you came inside the tightest pussy in the North Pole.

You groaned through clenched teeth, pumping slowly to get every drop of cum inside her. Lyra was holding your wrists with both hands, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes. You were sure you were squeezing maybe too hard, but you were unable to loosen your fingers when the sensory stimulation was so overwhelming to you.

"Oh yeah..." Karina moaned into your ear, massaging your balls. "I can feel those balls emptying inside that little pussy... Oh! They're full again," she giggled.

"You three are amazing, you know that?" you asked between gasps, regaining control of your motor skills to release Lyra's neck.

"It's the reward for a wonderful man," Karina said into your ear, and she pulled you into a hug from behind to kiss your cheek. You decided to ignore it so you wouldn't curl up like an armadillo and giggle like a fool.

"Oh right, speaking of rewards..." your gaze went to Nissa, who was pampering Lyra and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "It's your turn for another bit of fun, sweetie."

"How do you want me, master?" she asked, glancing at you as she was focused on Lyra being okay. "I know what's going through your head right now... but I'd like you to say it."

"I want to fuck your ass," you said, finally pulling out of Lyra's pussy after about fifteen uninterrupted minutes. Your cum spilled out in a thick river onto the sheet. "All three of you."

"And...?" Karina asked, already knowing what you wanted as well. You could tell she was excited, as you two had previous experience with it.

"And I want us to get a little... slippery."

"Yay!"

It seemed like Karina had everything premeditated in her head already. She snapped her fingers, and beneath you appeared a red, waterproof plastic blanket that covered the entire bed.

"Oh... this is new to me," Nissa said, looking at the blanket beneath her.

"Not to me," Karina said, and positioned herself to your right to show you what she held in her hand. It was a moderately sized glass jar, molded into the shape of a snowman with a hat. The liquid inside was clear, and it was obvious what it was. "The honors are yours, sweetheart."

You took the glass jar and looked at Nissa and then at Lyra, who already looked composed after the wild mess you had just gotten out of.

"Can you get on your knees?" you said.

"Are you implying that I'm tired and that I'm out of energy, master?" Lyra asked, raising an eyebrow, and with a haughty expression she was the first to kneel up, sitting on her heels. "I feel underestimated."

You chuckled, moving to the bottom edge of the bed to make room for them. Lyra took the center.

"Forgive me for worrying about you, then," you said, as Karina and Nissa took the same position on either side of Lyra.

First in line was Nissa. The short-haired, chubby-cheeked girl stood expectantly, her gaze fixed on the jar of massage oil. You knelt in front of her, cupping her chin so she looked into your eyes, and caressed her jaw with your thumb.

"Have you ever done anything like this?" you asked, really stupidly because she was a Christmas elf, surely they didn't fuck each other oiled up.

"Clearly not, master," she replied. "Is it... sticky?"

"Slippery," you corrected her.

"That's why the plastic blanket?"

You nodded.

"It'll feel good for you, I promise."

"Well, alright," she nodded with a small serene smile. "I trust you, master."

"Should I start then?" you asked, removing the snowman's hat and opening the jar.

"Stop asking so many questions and just do it, master!" Lyra protested from the side. That girl was a different kind of thing indeed.

In order to start with Nissa you positioned yourself behind her and began pouring the oil on her body, making it drip from her shoulders to her back and breasts. After pouring a considerable amount you had her take the jar for you to spread the liquid all over her back, shoulders, and arms. Then you poured a little more, and now you covered her breasts, belly and finally moved on to her thighs. A little over a minute later, Nissa's pale body was well oiled and shiny.

"Oh, it feels... warm," she said, running her palms over her tits. A small moan escaped her lips after rubbing her nipples a few times. "And wow, it feels really good."

"I told you," you smiled, gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked past Lyra. You approached her face to face.

"Oh master," she sighed, looking into your eyes and then to your lips before bringing a hand to your cock and slowly stroking it. "You know there's only one place tighter than my pussy, don't you?"

You picked up the jar of oil and poured long lines up and down her tight body before spreading them out.

"You weren't the most well behaved elf in your class, were you?" You raised an eyebrow, spreading oil across her abdomen before moving down to her crotch and rubbing her slit.

"No, she definitely wasn't," Nissa said, glancing at her. "And now she's acting even worse."

"Of course not!" Lyra protested, frowning at Nissa. "You're just the most boring girl!"

"Whatever you say," Nissa shrugged.

As you finished oiling Lyra's toned body you finally went with Karina. She was waiting for you with a sly smile.

"How does it feel that we're finally going to do this after a whole year, master?" she asked, as you oiled her body.

"Unreal," you admitted, avoiding eye contact so as not to blush but smiling. "But I'm... happy, quite a bit."

"Yeah, I can tell," she giggled. "That's why I'm this happy too."

"You elves can sense emotions?" you asked, running oil down her tummy and thighs.

"Uhm, not exactly," Karina shook her head softly. "But I can sense yours because well... we're bonded."

You paused with your hands on her thigh, then looked up at her.

"Bonded?" you frowned.

Karina's cheeks lit up with a light blush.

"I think I'd better show you when we're done here," she said.

"Can't you just tell me?"

"No, it's something you need to see."

You heard Nissa and Lyra giggle to your left. They knew things, but they didn't seem willing to tell you. You weren't going to push it either; you'd have time later.

"Okay okay," you nodded. "No pressure."

"Thank you honey," Karina smiled, and gave you a peck on the nose. This time you couldn't help but blush.

You worked for the next minute in silence, putting the finishing touches before leaving Karina on equal footing with Nissa and Lyra.

"Very well master," Karina took the jar from your hand and moved to the side. "It's your turn, come on, lie down."

You didn't object and waited for space to be given to you to lie down in the middle of the bed. Immediately the girls knelt at your sides, Karina on your left and Nissa and Lyra on your right. Karina didn't wait for you to give her the green light, she just started pouring the oil all over your body. Having finished, the three girls put their hands on you.

The girls divided up the areas of your body: Karina had your entire upper torso, and Nissa and Lyra from the waist down. Karina and Nissa were gentle, spreading the oil over your chest and arms and down your legs respectively. But Lyra, being the unstoppable force of nature that she was, had gone straight for your cock and was shamelessly groping it, spreading oil all over that area but at the same time jerking you off.

"Lyra..." you gasped, but a nervous giggle escaped you as well. "That's not what you're supposed to be doing."

She turned to look at you, moving her hand faster on your cock. It slid so smooth and felt so good that you moaned.

"Oh no?" she gave you the eyes of an abandoned puppy. "But I feel your cock very, very slippery, master."

"Yes but..." you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Fuck it come here."

You pulled her by the arm so she landed against your side. Your slick bodies came into contact immediately, her small breasts pressed against one of your pecs. You kissed as Karina and Nissa finished the job, and you brought your hand to Lyra's ass to put a finger directly inside her butthole.

"Oh fuck!" Lyra moaned against your lips, and began to stroke your cock much faster.

"Lyra..." you gasped, trying to get her to stop but at the same time now adding another finger inside her butthole to pump it just as fast. It was a few long seconds before you could muster all your willpower. "Lyra, stop!"

Lyra huffed against your lips, reluctantly releasing your cock.

"Yeah yeah, Nissa will be first," she said, having already read your mind. "Sorry."

"I'm going to kick your ass when we get back..." you heard Nissa say, who looked at Lyra with narrowed eyes.

"Huh?" Lyra frowned and looked at her. Karina giggled.

"Nothing," Nissa looked at you. "May I, master?"

"Go ahead, darling," you nodded.

Nissa turned around and straddled you, her back to you, planting her feet on the mattress in a squat position. She grabbed your cock, brought it between her buttocks and pressed it against her butthole to slowly lower her hips. Your cock was easily engulfed between that pair of pale, pretty asscheeks, and when Nissa rested her ass against your pelvis you both moaned.

"Feels good, master?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at you with her eyebrows raised in pleasure.

"It'll feel better when you use me as your personal trampoline," you replied, and brought your hands up to her buttocks to make circles with your palms there.

"Let me do it?"

"That's what I want you to do."

As soon as she said that Nissa took a few brief seconds to very slowly get into a pace, until she was bouncing hard and fast against your cock. You moaned and gave her a spank that slipped and didn't land as hard as it should have, but it was enough to make her whimper.

You pulled Karina and Lyra to the sides of your body. Now you crashed your lips against Karina's, who purposely rubbed her heavy tits against you. Lyra did something similar, only she was rubbing her pussy against your thigh. With Nissa already jumping on your cock you were able to resume your previous activity, so you put two fingers inside Lyra's ass and did the same with Karina, pumping both wrists quickly.

Nissa bounced on your cock for a while, and she did it without tiring despite going as hard as she was going. She finally came between cute moans, grinding her hips back and forth while her whole body shook with spasms. It was at that moment that you considered it appropriate to give her her well-deserved reward.

You pulled your fingers out of Karina and Lyra's asses and reached out to grab Nissa, pulling her so she was lying on her side on top of you and grabbing her from behind her knees to press them against her torso. All to finally plant your feet on the bed and pump up and down.

Nissa held onto your head with both arms and dedicated herself to filling the room with the most beautiful moans ever heard by man. You didn't know what an angel sounded like being fucked in the ass and mind-melting with pleasure, but it was surely something very, very close to that.

"Come on baby give me another one..." you murmured in her ear. Then you gave her earlobe a light bite and a hard spank to her ass. "Cum again for me."

Nissa tried to speak, but nothing but stutters interrupted by moans came out of her mouth. She kissed you, trying to drown out every whimper until with a violent electric shock, she came just as you had asked. You slowly pumped your hips, being gentle with her so she could enjoy her orgasm to the fullest.

"T-thank you, master," she murmured against your lips, breathing heavily. "For…  always considering what I want."

"You don't have to thank me, cutie," you said, and pulled out of her. "It's the basics for someone who isn't a jerk."

"Master...?" you heard Lyra's voice to your right. Turning, you saw her on her hands and knees. "Are you ready for me yet?"

"It shouldn't even be your turn yet, Lyra," you said, and carefully pushed Nissa off you.

"No, but I know you want to give Karina your last load, so I deserve you to make me cum a few more times."

You chuckled and sat up.

"You talk like I'm the one serving you."

"I talk like I know what you want, master," she said, spreading her knees and arching her back further to make her ass look rather more appetizing. "And I know you want to fuck my ass very, very bad."

Karina sighed, tired of Lyra's reckless attitude.

"Forgive me, master," she said. "It's my fault for having such poor disciplinary methods."

"No need," you said. "Let's give the sassy slut what she wants."

Lyra smiled, and you went to kneel behind her. The first thing you did was put a hand on her left ass cheek and used your thumb to finger her ass for a few seconds.

"Let me guess, you want it pretty rough too, don't you?" you asked, and pulled your thumb out of her asshole to soon replace it with the tip of your cock.

"Oh yeah," she nodded with a moan, propped up on her elbows as she watched over her shoulder as you took every inch of your hard, throbbing cock into her tight asshole. "I like it rough, so don't hold back for anything in the world."

"I wasn't planning on doing that," you replied with a hand on her slick lower back, pushing the last few inches inside her. "It's what you deserve for being such an insolent girl."

"Punish me then, master," she moaned as you began to move slowly. "About time you do."

The first spank was quick to fall, and more followed as you increased the pace of your thrusts. Unlike Karina's ass, Lyra's ass took a little longer to turn as red as Rudolph the Reindeer's nose, perhaps due to the layer of oil that reduced contact. But when you had accomplished that task you grabbed a handful of her brown hair and pulled on it as hard as you could, making the smacks of your pelvis against her ass reverberate like applause throughout your room.

Lyra went crazy with screams and grunts, and thank god your nearby neighbors spent Christmas outside the building, because at that hour of the morning you would have gotten into a huge amount of trouble with all the fuss that girl was making.

"You like it like this huh?" you asked through clenched teeth, and gave her a harder tug to make her respond. "Huh?!"

"Mmmgh fuck, yes!!!" she whimpered, desperately searching for something to hold on to since the only thing you had underneath you was the red plastic blanket. "Just like fucking like that, yes!!"

A few thrusts later Lyra came, but you continued, not letting up for a single moment. She screamed and squirmed, but within seconds she dropped the side of her face against the blanket and lay still for you again. Taking advantage of her submissiveness, you made her lay on her stomach flat so you could lean forward, grab her chin to make her look up at you, and spit right in her face as you fucked her now prone bone.

"Oh fuck yeah do that again," she growled, and stuck her tongue out for you. You spat on it after a few seconds, and she moaned louder.

You gripped your hand around her neck, as best you could despite the angle you were at. You weren't squeezing too hard, but it was enough to make Lyra cum again, smothering your cock with her butthole walls and making you moan along with her. It was a miracle that you didn't cum on the spot, in fact, you had no idea how that hadn't happened. A moment ago you would have easily exploded because of how good it felt when Lyra cummed and all of her body seemed to go tighter.

With your lungs about to explode from exhaustion, you looked up, and by pure chance you found the answer to your question. Karina was staring too intently at your crotch, with a finger discreetly raised and her eyes a little brighter than usual. Of course.

When she noticed you were looking at her, she lowered her finger, her eyes returned to their normal color and looked at you with an innocent little smile. You weren't going to comment on it, but it's not like it bothered you. In fact, it was just another thing to be grateful for.

"Satisfied, reckless slut?" you asked Lyra between gasps, kissing her on the forehead.

"Only for now," she replied, and managed a mischievous smile.

You pulled out of Lyra's ass and went to lay down in the center of the bed again, right next to Karina, who didn't hesitate to straddle you, grab your face and crash your lips together, already having you all to herself.

The make out session lasted longer than expected. She was more than happy just kissing and rubbing your slippery chests together, and you were more than happy just groping every corner of that perfect body. But soon that last load in your balls was demanding and screaming to be released, and knowing this, Karina raised her hips and brought your cock to her ass to slowly impale herself on it.

"Oh lord," Karina moaned with her hands on your chest as your cock was already halfway in. "Why the hell didn't we try this a year ago?"

"Because we fell asleep too early," you replied, hands on her waist.

"At least we got some sleep that time," she said, your cock already deep in her ass. "But now dawn is too close."

"Oh, right..."

"Hush," she put a finger on your lips. "Don't think about it and just focus on me, honey."

You looked into her eyes, and for the time number-you didn’t remember-, you blushed again at her expense.

"Y-yeah..." you nodded, and she started moving up and down.

That was without a doubt the most intimate moment you had all night. It was just the two of you, her cupping your face and caressing your cheeks as she kissed you, and you running your hands up and down her back and then hugging her tightly. Karina didn't want to go too much faster than she was going at that moment, and it wasn't necessary either; the rhythm was more than perfect, deep and sensual, so that both of you felt every movement with every fiber of your bodies. You moaned against her lips, and she against yours.

"I'm going to cum, honey..." she moaned against your lips after a few minutes. "Cum with me, will you? Yeah?"

"I'll be happy to, fuck," you panted, your hands squeezing her tits and then bringing them to her buttocks and squeezing them. "You keep going, keep going!"

Karina now did pick up the pace a little, just to speed up a few seconds what was inevitable. Towards the end she bounced on you hard, and raised her body a little so you could see her tits jiggle with each blow. You couldn't help but take one into your mouth, suck on it and hold on to Karina's body with both arms until you both came in a series of deep moans.

"Mmmgh fuck yes darling!" Karina whimpered as you came inside her ass, and she took her breast from your mouth to hug your head.

You buried your face in her neck and filled it with as many kisses as you could, drowning your own moans there that kept coming out until you left your entire load inside her. Your last load of the night. After that the magic would end, and you wouldn't see Karina again for another year. Again.

The two of you took a long time to rest, holding each other close between little cuddles, caresses and kisses.

"Honey... about our bond," she said, lying with her head on your chest. "Do you really want to know?"

Certainly some things were better left unsaid. Ignorance was also a power. But no, that was something you had to know by any means necessary.

"Of course I do," you said. "Why so much mystery about it? Is it a bad thing?"

"It is for some… heartless people," she admitted. "But if you're the man I think you are... it won't be for you."

Your heart skipped a beat. Your mind began to spin and scheme like crazy.

"Okay... show me, please."

Karina smiled and sat up with her hands on your chest.

"I'm afraid you'll have to get dressed first," she said. "And put on something warm too," she then looked to their sides. "Hey! Wake up!"

Nissa and Lyra woke up with a small jump from their slumber. Who knows how long they had fallen asleep, but they both looked equally disoriented.

"Go back home and wait for me at Ysara's Crystal," Karina ordered, then pointed at Lyra. "Ysara's Crystal!" she reiterated, knowing full well that Lyra was the unruly one.

"But don't yell at me!" Lyra whined, and stood up reluctantly.

"He's coming with us, Karina?" Nissa asked, carefully getting out of bed.

"Wait what?" you looked at both of them.

"Yeah," Karina nodded with a pleased little smile. "It's about time he met little Tharion."

"Who?!"

"Shut up and get dressed, silly," Karina patted your chest, and stood up next to Nissa to snap her fingers.

The red blanket, along with the jar of oil and the layer of oil on the three of them, disappeared. Not only that, Karina was now fully dressed and groomed again, as if nothing had happened. Nissa and Lyra also snapped, and now they were fully dressed again as well.

"We'll see you in Glaciora, master," Nissa said, holding Lyra's hand. Then, a swirl of sparkling snowflakes began to envelop them from bottom to top. Seconds later, they disappeared.

"In where?!" you asked again, so confused that you couldn't even move from the bed.

"Honey, get up and get dressed!" Karina urged you. "The sun will soon be setting and my powers won't work here!"

"I'm sorry!" you sat up. "It's just that! I-I! Oh forget it!"

You stood up and hurried to get dressed. You didn't know how to dress warmly, but if you were going where you thought you were going, you'd be perfectly fine with what you were wearing. Ready, you stood next to Karina.

"Look, I'm not going to lie to you," you told her. "I'm terrified."

Karina giggled, took your hand and laced her fingers through yours.

"Why?" she asked. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."

"It's just..." you started breathing faster, anxious. "That... you know, thing," you pointed to the floor. "Is it going to take me too? How do you s-"

Karina suddenly shut you up with a sweet kiss on the lips. Yes, blushing cheeks again for you.

"Everything will be okay, I promise," she said, looking into your eyes. "Now shut up and let me do my job."

Karina pointed her finger at the ground and made a small gesture. A few seconds later, that whirlwind you saw in the distance before was now forming around your feet, slow, but increasingly faster, dense and bright. The whirlwind rose up your body, enveloping each of your limbs and then covering you completely. In a reflex you closed your eyes, thinking that some snowflake would get inside you. But that didn't happen, in fact, you felt absolutely nothing more than a tingling sensation all over your body.

And then cold. Intense cold. Accompanied by the sound of the polar breeze and... steam engines in the distance?

"We've arrived, darling," Karina said from beside you, squeezing your hand. "You can open your eyes."

You hesitated to do so, but as soon as you did the last thing you felt was regret.

"What the..." you took a few steps forward, stunned by what your eyes were seeing.

You were standing on top of a snowy hill with some pine trees and grass, and the general passage was filled with tall, rugged mountains, packed with snow on the peaks and slopes. But that wasn't what had you stupefied, but what was in the valley just below the hill you were on.

Calling it a city was a bit of an exaggeration, but the picturesque houses of that beautiful town stretched far into the distance, winding between the mountains. It was a bright, charming place, filled mostly with two-story buildings made of oak wood with plenty of windows, in which you could see men, women, and children living together in a common joy that you knew was due to that time of year. Beautiful. That place was beautiful, and it felt warm, like a home.

"Well... this is where I'm from," Karina said, standing next to you.

"But h-how?" you were still stunned as you looked at every corner of the town.

"You don't expect me to explain how our magic works, do you?" she giggled.

"No, you don't have to," you shook your head. "It's just that... my goodness! This is beautiful!"

"Wait till you take a closer look then," she grabbed your hand again. "Come on, Nissa and Lyra are waiting for us."

The two of you walked down the hill patiently, but you didn't go straight to the town, you took a small detour to the left that led you to a wide plain in the center of which there was an obelisk-like structure right in the middle, at least ten meters tall and made of a crystal that reflected pink and purple lights. Ysara’s Crystal, most surely. Near it were the girls. The first thing Lyra did was make fun of your stupid face as you admired everything, and Nissa just smiled excitedly.

"Hey, before I show you everything do you want to...?" Karina asked.

"Yes," you nodded immediately, not knowing how sure you were of your answer. "Yes, please."

Karina nodded, and led you along with Nissa and Lyra, this time to the town.

The streets were quite different from anything you could have imagined a Christmas elf village to look like. Everyone was dressed in red, yes. But there was no one dressed in a flashy outfit, replete with buttons and all kind of colors. There didn't seem to be a hint of ill intentions on anyone's face either; all the people wore bright, genuine smiles, working in all sorts of places outside of carpentry shops, bakeries, toy stores, or any common job you could find in any other city in the world.

You didn't stop to take a closer look, as you had only one destination for now: Karina's house.

The house turned out to be a small cabin near the foot of one of the mountains. It was definitely meant for just one person, but it looked perfectly cozy and spacious. A fireplace was lit inside.

"Are you ready?" Karina asked you, holding your arm in her hands. You were on the first step of the stairs leading to the door.

"I think so..." you nodded quietly.

"Very well. He's a little shy, so don't worry if he seems scared."

You climbed the stairs, each step feeling like an eternity. Karina knocked a few times on the door, and within a few seconds an older, kind-looking lady, dressed in a long red dress with long flared sleeves, opened it. Behind her, in the center of the room, sat a boy playing with a wooden boat.

Him. Tharion. You couldn't see his face, but his hair was... like yours. Same color.

"Karina, dear!" she greeted, welcoming her with a hug. "You're back! And oh, who is this handsome boy?"

"Grandma, he's..." Karina looked at you, then looked over the lady's shoulder at Tharion.

"Oh!" the lady beamed, visibly happy. "Should I... yeah, I'll go buy some chocolate buns, I'll leave you two with little Tharion!"

The lady walked past the two of you, quickly descending the stairs and grabbing her skirt to quicken her pace into the city.

"Is that your... grandma?"

"Not really, but she raised me since I was little."

"I couldn't even introduce myself properly," you sighed.

"You'll do that later, come on in," she gestured inside.

You did so, hands in your jacket pockets. There were many details inside the cabin that you would have loved to pay attention to, as it was an extremely beautiful place. But your gaze was solely fixed on the child, who couldn't have been more than a year old. Just about the time that...

"Tharion!" Karina called him in a small voice, walking past you to go to the child. "I'm home, sweetheart!"

The child dropped the small wooden boat and raised his arms for Karina to carry him. When she did and turned with the child towards you, you were completely petrified.

He looked just like you.

"Honey... this is Tharion," Karina walked slowly towards you with the child in her arms. "Tharion, he's your father."

Tharion. Your son. With Karina.

Oh... no.

———————————

SPREN NOTES: Well this is definitely my longest uninterrupted smut scene to date. I think about 80% of the piece is smut lol. Hope you enjoyed it tho, especially this ending that sparked my desire for parenthood lmao. AND YES, I KNOW IT'S JANUARY 11 ALREADY BUT FOR ME IT'S CHRISTMAS ALL YEAR ROUND.

[ja3yun]

Please Be Real | P.JS

ex!jongseong x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut(mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, begging, hurt w comfort, petnames (baby, princess), mentions of intoxication, alcohol, heavy conversation around wanting children, badly written, reupload, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: you never thought you would hear the name park jongseong again until you get a call from one of his friends begging for your help a/n: hi! this is a reupload!! so if you think you've read it, that's because you have <3 i didn't edit this one and i think you will be able to tell since my writing is a little sloppy compared to now but i love this fic a lot. i was actually planning a new one today (sub jake) but i fear that one isn't finished yet! so please enjoy. as always, comments, feedback and reblogs are all welcome! love u <33

A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.

Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.

Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.

“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.

“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…

Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.

You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.

“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”

“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 

This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 

Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”

Jay. Park Jongseong.

It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.

Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your six-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.

It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.

But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.

And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.

Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.

Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.

The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.

His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.

“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.

As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.

Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.

Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.

“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.

With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 

You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.

As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 

He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.

As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.

With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.

An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.

Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward carefully, “Jjongie?” you say calmly, trying to pull him out of his dispaired state and avoid startling him. “It’s me, baby, look at me,” 

Jongseong's body tenses at your voice and he slowly lifts his head, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.

He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.

Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the stinging discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own hurt, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.

"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using the pad of your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.

Jongseong leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin. He desperately nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation of your touch, the very thing he has been yearning for.

It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.

Turning to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”

“You sure?” Jake asks with a raised brow, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you, pathetic and distressed.

Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves difficult as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.

"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.

His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.

With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.

"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.

Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.

You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount if he’s this bad..

“Like…two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces as he says it, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend. It was hard to watch him, pound spirit after spirit, and be helpless in telling him to stop. He’s not exaggerating either, he must have spent at least £600 in there. Each round was a triple, accompanied by a few shots to wash the Jack and Coke down.

"Oh, baby," you sigh softly, returning your attention to Jongseong. You press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. In some way, the scent of his shampoo also gives you some ease within the chaos. His response to your affection is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace. There’s a crushing wave of empathy that you feel wash over you right at this moment. It hurts, seeing him like this and hearing of his struggles - ex or not - you care about him, and you also understand his pain.

You need to get him home. He’s a fucking mess and the longer he stays like this, the more it’s going to wear all four of you out. So, with a gentle hand, you pull him back and lift his jaw up to look at you. It was probably the worst decision you could have ever made. He looks…broken.

"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, squeezing his chin as almost a gentle pinch, to prove you’re not letting him go. This instantly relaxes Jongseong, though, his hands still grip onto you for dear life. His friends go to help you, break him away and buckle him in the backseat, but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."

Sunghoon shakes his head, heavy concern etched on his face. "No way. He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the apartment without us.”

But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up. "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute and brooking no argument.

Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod, still teetering on the edge of arguing with you. But, they know better and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.

Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose. You’ve been in this state before too, so you can recognise the blackout glaze that he’s trying to fight away as he keeps his eyes on you. He’s so scared you’ll just vanish into thin air. “I’m right here. Go to sleep.”

Surprisingly, he listens to your reassurance, closing his eyes and drifting off, allowing you to slide into the driver's seat. You turn the keys as the engine begins humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.

_____

Arriving at his house fills you with a nervous energy that tightens in your chest. This wasn’t just his flat—it used to be your shared home. For two and a half years, this place held countless, irreplaceable memories, moments you thought you’d cherish forever.

You were the one who left, finding a new place closer to work and convincing yourself it was the practical choice. But deep down, you knew the real reason: you couldn’t bear the constant reminders of him that lingered in every room, every piece of furniture, every shadow of your life together.

Looking back now, it feels selfish. You left him here, surrounded by the remnants of your relationship, without considering how he might feel. While you escaped to a fresh start, he was left to live among the echoes of what you once had.

Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny, but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.

As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. 

The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times when life seemed so simple and easy. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.

You shake the thoughts away and guide Jongseong toward the bedroom. Each step feels heavy, as you’re encompassed with memories that surround you. He’s been living in a time capsule, and while you’re struggling to look at it all now, you wonder how he has managed to endure it for all these months.

His arm is slung over your shoulder as his weight presses down on you, however, it’s the feeling of his nose brushing against your hair that nearly stops you in your tracks. He breathes in deeply, and for a brief moment, it feels like he’s trying to ground himself in the familiarity of you.

You help Jongseong onto the bed, propping him up carefully. “I’m going to grab you some clean boxers, okay?” you say softly. He doesn’t respond, lost in his own haze, so you move toward the drawers on the other side of the room.

Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.

“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.

You’re no better, though. You think of the hoodie you tucked into your suitcase before you left, the one you’ve worn so many times on nights when the loneliness felt unbearable. Its scent is fading too, just like this shirt, but you still cling to it, just as he clings to this. Both of you, in your own quiet ways, are holding onto the fragments of a love neither of you has been able to let go of.

Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.

You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hello Kitty print that you've always teased him about.

Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.

As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.

He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.

“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.

Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he 

mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 

He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.

But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.

“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”

Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 

"Please, baby," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 

His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.

With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.

Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.

You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 

Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you from behind, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.

You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.

_____

Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.

Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 

Even if he wanted to open his eyes, he couldn’t - they were sealed shut, held together by something stubborn. Had he been crying last night? Wait, what did happen last night?

Fragments of the evening begin to resurface as he sifts through the haze: Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the chaotic vibe of the bar, and the questionable decision to ride the mechanical bull. After that? A blank.

As he struggles to piece it all together, you watch him futilely attempt to pry his eyes open. Deciding to help, you gently swipe your thumb across his lids, clearing away the dried remnants of tears and sleep. His body tenses at your touch, his expression clouded with confusion.

Was he hallucinating? The sensation felt so real - too real. Or maybe the girl he brought home last night had a touch uncannily like yours. God, he hoped it was the first one.

Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.

“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.

You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 

All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.

He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.

The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.

Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.

As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.

"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."

You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.

The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 

All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”

“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.

"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."

You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements - this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.

But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.

You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.

“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.

Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”

It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 

“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”

Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.

“That’s okay-”

“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry and interrupt him, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?

"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"

Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is truly laying himself bare to you.

But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."

You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.

"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?

Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.

So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.

"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.

In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 

"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.

"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.

Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.

You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.

His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.

You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.

It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.

Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 

The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.

He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.

Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.

"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.

With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.

Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.

"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.

With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.

You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.

You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.

As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.

“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.

Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.

But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.

“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.

“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.

Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”

“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.

Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.

With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.

"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 

Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"

You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."

Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.

"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.

The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 

Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”

You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.

You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."

With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."

As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.

Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."

In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."

Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.

With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.

“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.

After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.

Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.

As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.

With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.

In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 

His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.

After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 

But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.

He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.

“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.

You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”

“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.

The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 

Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.

You need one another to extinguish the fire.

“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.

“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 

Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.

His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 

He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.

“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”

He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 

You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.

Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.

“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.

“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.

So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.

Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”

You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.

“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.

So, with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you say, even if you are a day late.

[crystalclear365]

All you wanted to be was a sandwich artist, like how Ma was, and how Grandma and Grandpa were.

You didn't think the decision to pursue such a career could potentially cost you your life.

Yet here you were, standing face-to-face with one of the city's most intimidating villains, who you decided would be such a great idea to base a sandwich off of. But could you really blame yourself? It was such a clever gimmick! It brought in a lot of customers, who were eager to try your sandwiches based off of the heroes and villains who seemed to have the city in the palm of their hands.

No wonder why the rent was so cheap... you should've expected that when moving to such a place.

And you also should've expected a villain to be curious enough to try a sandwich based off of them.

You should've expected a lot of things.

"H-hello, sir!" You stammered out. "Would you like to order anything?" You asked while giving a nervous smile, blinking rapidly as your heart threatened to explode from the amount of fear you were in.

It felt like you were serving royalty, and in a way, you were. His outfit was based on a prince's outfit, and he often fought with swords, bows, and arrows. The silver crown that adorned his head also helped convey the vibe you were privy to.

It felt like you were going to be beheaded if you misplaced a singular tomato on his sandwich.

"Hello," he replied back. He looked up at the menu and was silent for a good minute. The store was dead silent, as your customers stared at the man before you. Some began to quietly leave the building, others pulled their phones out, while a mother cautioned her children to "look away", as if you were about to be mutilated right then and there.

Finally, after a long moment, he spoke up again. "You make sandwiches based off of us?" He questioned.

"Y-yes. K-kind of a nice marketing technique if you ask me!" You squeaked out, trying to relieve the tension in the store.

He quickly looked down from the menu and right back at you, which caused you to slightly flinch.

You wanted to kick yourself for saying that.

Fortunately, he took the joke well, as he let out a quiet chuckle. "You're not wrong. I would've done the same thing... I should do the same thing..." He muttered that last sentence quietly to himself. "I'll take the 'Dark Flamboyant', please." He ordered while giving you such a kind smile, one would think that he was an actor on a preschool television show and not a cold-blooded villain.

"Of course!" You answered.

You then began the process of creating the sandwich right in front of him. Your hands shook as you felt his gaze observing your each and every move. Since you didn't die from a heart attack, you were sure you were going to die from your neck being slit by one of his swords, which he could summon at a moment's notice.

When you finished preparing his sandwich, you wrapped it up as neatly as you could, your hands still trembling from the anxiety that weighed on you like a steel beam. You rang up the price for the sandwich, and he paid using a credit card. After he finished paying, you carefully placed the sandwich into a paper bag, and handed it to him.

"Thank you!" He smiled at you again.

"No problem! Have a nice day!" You smiled back as your eye twitched.

He walked out of the store, his cape flowing elegantly behind him. As the door closed behind him, the whole store let out a collective sigh, and the tension in the atmosphere began to dissipate.

You passed out on the floor right then and there.

Later that day...

After a long day of serving sandwiches, you were now finally home, in the comfort of your own bed. You went to the website of your store to fix a minor issue, only to notice a new review.

It was the villain from earlier.

He had given you a five star review, and left a comment with it.

"This was one of the best sandwiches I've ever tasted in my entire life. The shop's atmosphere was pleasant, and the owner was very friendly. I think I'll come here again sometime. :)

If anyone tries to hurt this business in any way, contact me, and I'll deal with them for you!"

Reading that review left you speechless. You gently closed your laptop and stared at the ceiling.

You then decided to go to sleep, even though it was just past seven.

This day had been uncomfortably long and exhausting...

You own a sandwich shop in the heart of a superhero city. After gaining customers by making sandwiches based on heroes, you decided to try making some based on villains. Today, a villain stopped to review theirs.

[idstilldancewithu]

Midnight Pleasure | S.R

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Hotchner Reader

Summary: The reader and Spencer's sleep is interrupted in the middle of the night when she gets a call from her ex boyfriend, provoking Spencer to reveal the hidden feelings he's had all along.

Warnings: Spencer gets jealous/possessive over reader, age gap (20/30), soft dom Spence, he calls her baby/pretty girl, slight angst with a happy ending, fingering, fem!receiving, oral, Reid basically eats you out while you’re talking to your ex, Y/N’s ex is a jerk, unprotected sex, possession kink, Reid makes the reader beg, cream pie (kind of), Spencer confesses his feelings, and is bit insecure. Sorry, if I missed anything.

A/N: This is the last part of Forbidden Request. The words in italic represents the reader’s ex speaking to her. English is not my first language. Enjoy!

Word count: 1,121

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

•••

The sound of my phone ringing woke me up. I declined the call without even looking at the caller ID and went back to cuddling Spencer, careful not to wake him up.

Pressing my body against his, seeking the warmth and comfort only he could bring me.

I clung to him tighter, knowing that the second we stepped foot out of this bed we would go back to being just friends. When the sun rises, this moment will only be a memory imprinted in my brain.

A reminder of what could have been, if Spencer Reid saw me as something more than a twenty year old girl asking her friend to take away her virginity. To him it was only a favor, but to me it meant everything.

My phone rang again snapping me out of my thoughts. I grabbed it, sitting with my knees pulled up out of habit.

"Y/N? It's me, Jeremy." 

"Why are you calling me at two in the morning?" I asked irritably.

Spencer stirred beneath me, his eyes fluttering open with confusion as he reached over to turn on the bedside lap, light filling up the room.

"I miss you."

"Well, I don't." I snapped, slightly raising my voice annoyed that he had the audacity to call me.

"Who is it?" Spencer asked, glancing my way.

"Jeremy" I mouthed. He tensed up at the mention of his name and quickly positioned himself between my legs, spreading them apart, making eye contact with me in the process.

"Look, I'm sorry. Please give me another chance," he begged, his voice reeking with desperation.

"Jeremy, you called me a Prude because I didn't want to have sex with you."

Spencer slowly started leaving a trail of kisses up my leg, making my anger fade away in seconds and my breath deepen.

"Look, I'm sorry, but do you really think another guy is going to want you, knowing that you have zero experience? You have nothing to offer, and you should be thankful that I'm calling you right now."

Spencer's fingertips grazed the sides of my hips, delicately pulling down my underwear, and throwing it on the bedroom floor.

Without any warning he buried his face between my wet folds, flicking his tongue against my clit.

Before I could process what Jeremy was even saying, a moan escaped from my lips.

I let my phone fall from my grasp, gripping Spencer's hair instead and pulling him closer to my heat.

"Y/N, where are you? Are you seriously with another guy right now?" Jeremy’s voice sounded distant and faint.

Spencer pulled away from my glistening cunt, and grabbed the phone that was beside me putting it on speaker phone, pumping two of his finger in and out of my soaking folds.

"Spencer." I whimpered, feeling his fingers reach spots that I couldn't with my own.

"Y/N, answer me," My ex demanded.

"Sorry, Y/N can't come to the phone right now—she's busy." Spencer hanged up and continued fucking me with his fingers, increasing the speed each time.

My cunt started clenching around his fingers, I was close to reaching my peak.

"That's it baby, let go for me." At his command, I came on his fingers making my legs tremble.

He cradled my face with his hands and pressed a consuming kiss to my lips, gently biting my bottom lip.

Spencer broke the kiss by leaving a trail of kisses down my neck, sucking my flesh ensuring that he left marks behind.

Then, he stopped to admire what he had just done, and my disheveled state.

"Get on all fours."

I obeyed and internally smiled with excitement knowing that he was going to ruin me.

He grabbed the ends of hair, pulling my head back. "You look so pretty like this. All ready and willing, just for me to use."

"Spencer." I gasped, clenching around nothing.

Without any warning he buried his throbbing length in me not moving his hips.

Desperately wanting to relief the tension in between my legs, I arched my back and moved backwards.

But, he grabbed my hips, ensuring I couldn't move an inch. “If you want me to move you're gonna have to beg."

"Please, I need you. Please—move,” I croaked out.

"Just cause you asked so nicely” he said, while driving into me with abandon.

"Do you really think another boy could make you feel the way I do? What do you think Jeremy would say if he saw you like this, begging me to fuck you?" He said, jealousy dripping from his tone.

"No, Spencer, no one else will ever make me feel the way you do,” I sincerely responded, knowing that every word that slipped from his mouth was true.

He's thrust quickened, and I could feel his cock hitting my g-spot.

Spencer placed his hand on my stomach. "Do you feel how deep I'm in you? You're mine. Not Jeremy’s or anyone else’s but mine."

I could feel myself clenching around him, getting closer to my release. He noticed and started circling my clit.

"I'm yours, Spence."

“Baby, you feel so good,” he whimpered.

"Come for me, pretty girl. Let everyone know how good—I’m making you feel."

I came mumbling his name, and seconds later his cock twitched in my cunt, shooting his load in me chanting my name in the process.

He slipped out of me, and I laid down on the bed.

Spencer laid beside me trying to catch his breath, his body facing mine.

"Was I too rough? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry. I got carried away—”

"You didn’t hurt me, Spencer. I liked it." I said, running my hands through his air reassuringly.

"Y/N, I meant every word I said. I know you asked me to sleep with you as a friend, but I want be so much more than that.” He paused, placing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

“The thought of you being with someone else physically pains me. I don't want to wait around wondering what could’ve happened if you loved me. I understand if you just want to be friends, but I truly wish we could be more.”

His confession took my breath away, but happiness overflowed my senses. He did want me, after all.

"I would really like that, Spence.” I responded, placing a soft kiss on the side of his neck.

"Are you sure? Cause after women orgasm they release a hormone called oxytocin, making them feel a deeper connection to their partner—”

I silenced him by placing my lips on his in a kiss full of love and adoration. He smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around my waist pulling me closer.

•••

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

[oddly-specific-hermit-headcanons]

no one on hermitcraft is human (and they all know this)- except for mumbo. He also has no idea anyone else is not human. For the funnies, no one believes him when he says he's human, and keep trying to figure out (in their own ways) what he is.

Impulse keeps trying to subtlety tell mumbo he has nothing to hide and can tell the hermits anything (this confuses mumbo quite a bit)

Grian says he believes mumbo, but really his diamonds are on either vampire or some sort of shadow monster in the betting pool

Doc and etho are running a betting pool

Zed has bdubs skizz and tango and himself working to keep a constant monitor on mumbo just in case he does something suspicious , this includes using cameras, spyglasses, various small holes to peek through and watch him, grian, ect.

Xisuma knows mumbo is human, obviously, but is participating in the betting pool anyway solely because he knows the hermits know that he knows, and him participating will encourage the rumors (not that he would encourage that type of thing, no, never)

Gem keeps asking mumbo random questions to try and get him to reveal something, which of course he doesn't, but she is convinced his answers must mean something, and keeps coming up with increasingly random theories about what he could be

The only person gem has managed to successfully convince of these theories is pearl, who has taken to dropping in on mumbo at random times to try to "catch him in the act"- the act of what even pearl herself doesn't know

Cub is having a field day making horns out of confused mumbo noises and various other "I'm just a human!"'s

Scar is the accomplice- the accomplice to what, nobody knows, but he was definitely the accomplice to something, possibly everything

And finally- mumbo is just as oblivious as ever, he has no idea most of this is going on (except for things asked to him directly) and thinks there must be something in the water making everyone a bit crazy, possibly the chemicals he's been pouring into it, that he has somehow been exempt from.

As an extra, autocorrect has tried to correct watch to watchers multiple times (I'm rather proud of it) doesn't know how to spell as accomplice (to be fair, I didn't either, had to look it up on Google) and seems to think xisuma should be insulation, despite auto filling xisuma- very interesting choice auto correct.

.

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎshower with clark౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x clark kent

The hiss of the spray raining from the shower head loosened your taut muscles, and you released a sigh. Tilting your head back, you hummed softly, lifting your hands to smooth hair back from your face. You'd run a brush through before you stepped in, conscious of the tangles that would appear once you were done washing.

This was your safe place, where all the stress of the day melted into nothingness, swirling down the drain with anything else you'd collected during the day. You were long overdue for an everything shower, having skipped it for the past few days. There was nothing worse than a rushed shower. You wanted to take your time, to really relax. After the week you'd had, you felt you deserved it.

When the door clicked open, you perked up, pulling back the curtain and poking your head out. Water dripped from your hair onto the tile, but you hardly cared, a tired smile drawing your lips up.

Clark was rubbing his eye with one hand, stepping forward to cup your damp cheek with the other. "Baby." His voice was no more than a mumble, and your eyes wandered over him. Curls stuck to his forehead, wearing nothing except a pair of boxers.

Your shoulders relaxed, and you leaned against the side of the shower, tilting your head into his touch. "Wanna come in?"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah." You slid the shower curtain aside, watching him kick off his boxers before he got in. The water flattened his hair, and you reached up to push it out of his eyes.

Clark opened his arms, and you fell into them, pressing your cheek to his warm chest. One big hand smoothed over your hair, and he kissed the top of your head. "You left."

"I'm sorry, baby," you said softly, burrowing into him. "I didn't think you'd wake up."

His chin settled atop your head. "You can wake me up for showers. I like this. I love this," he corrected himself after a moment.

You tilted your head up, his arms around your back holding you upright. "I love it too."

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, eyes on the wall behind you. "You have a lot of pink soap."

"Mhm," you hummed, resting your cheek on his chest again. He'd never commented on it before, but it made you smile.

Clark's thumb rubbed up and down your lower back. "Is that why you always smell like a donut?"

A happy giggle bubbled up from your chest. "Donut?"

There was a pause, and he adjusted his arms comfortably around you. "You know...sweet."

"Yeah," you responded lazily, looking up at him. His eyes were sleepy, and you lifted your hands to cup his face. "Wanna try some?" The black and grey bottles of his own soap were lined up neatly next to yours, but you offered anyways. "Just one?"

Pausing for a moment, Clark used his fingers to scratch your back, and you nearly melted. "Which one?"

Reaching out from the confines of his arms, you plucked one up. "This one. Bodywash."

He leaned his cheek against your head, inhaling softly. "Okay." You squealed, causing him to jolt just slightly, but he shook it off and took the bottle from you. When you looked back up at him, he was smiling.

Showering with Clark wasn't an uncommon occurrence. You easily maneuvered around each other, swapping places on the shower bench and under the head. You borrowed the body wash back to shave, and he scrubbed at his curls, closing his eyes to rinse out his soap. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, from the firm contours of his body, and how it looked when water was dribbling down his chest.

You knew him in every form- as the invincible hero and the quiet writer. Underneath it all was something soft, a man who melted under your touch and held you like a teddy bear at the end of every day. And here he was, rubbing your sugar cookie body wash all over him and grinning at you when he saw you watching. Clark's skin was thick, untouchable, but in times like these you could see his heart. It was bigger and brighter than anything you'd ever come across before.

You stood up for one more rinse, feeling clean and fluffy like you always did after a good wash. Clark capped the bottle he was holding, taking the razor from you and setting it on the pale pink shower caddy. He reached for you. "C'mere, honey."

Gladly, you settled back into him, feeling almost cocooned. He pressed a few kisses to your head, swaying back and forth so subtly it almost felt like a dream. Images of clouds and pastel rainbows and white fur blankets filled your mind like fog. This was always how it felt around him. Safe. Anywhere else you'd be on high alert, but when you were tucked away into him, your mind lapsed. It was like your body knew you were protected.

Getting out, Clark wrapped one of your fluffy towels around you before drying himself off. You covered your torso, reaching for your vanilla lotion, but he got to it first. "Let me?" When you nodded, he lifted you onto the counter, big hands on your waist, and knelt before you. While he worked on the first leg, you made quick work of brushing your hair, setting it to the side so you could look at him again. Leaning back on your hands, you watched him with sleepy eyes. The feeling of his hands on your smooth legs was a bonus to the calm you already felt.

He had you in his arms once he was done, and the trip to your room was a blur until he set you down into your bed, gentle and loving as always. The towel was removed, and he worked a shirt over your head, panties up your legs. With his hand under your head, Clark guided you to lay down, only leaving you for a second and reappearing on your other side to gather you into his arms. He smelled like your body wash.

The moon was glowing through the slit in the curtains, and you turned in his arms to push your head into his chest, hiding from the light. The overwhelming feeling of being taken care of flooded you, and you felt more relaxed than in months.

An 'I love you' was whispered into your hair before you drifted off. You squeezed his hand over your tummy. When you weren't half asleep in the morning, you'd make sure to say it back.

[carajalexander]

I stepped out of my parent's house just after 7.00a.m. and tried to get my brain into gear. The temperature was already on the way up to something higher than I was used to but hey-ho that's life and I do like to visit them regularly. I rested against the rail at the back and looked to my left to see the vision above and had no idea who the heck she was. My eyes were as transfixed as my brain as I watched her meandering around and in time our eyes connected. I had to speak, to say something but what?

"Good morning," I said as though I couldn't think of anything more original, "are you okay?" I added as she obviously wasn't.

"Not really."

"Can I help? I'm Dan, Molly and Peter's son. I don't remember seeing you around and I never forget a face."

"Dan, you haven't looked at my face." she replied with a half smile and I knew she was spot on as my eyes remained firmly attached to her breasts.

"You have me there, I confess and who's face do I have the pleasure of talking to?"

"A grumpy bitch by the name of Alice and my face is about twelve inches above my nipples."

"I noticed and just as gorgeous in my opinion. So why grumpy and why wandering about in such a delightful gown?"

"You don't want to know."

"I do Alice, I'm good at listening to beautiful ladies."

"And staring at nipples."

"Of course but only when they are as fabulous as her face and the rest of her body, care to talk?" I asked as we were now walking side by side and she had made no attempt to cover up, turn away or hide her breasts from me.

Alice led me to one of those swinging bench seats at the rear of next door's place and sat me down before bringing a glass of juice for me.

"Would you hold me please Dan? Please don't be embarrassed by me."

"No, embarrassed is not the word I had in mind." I replied as my arm reached around her back and my free hand seemed desperate to place the juice somewhere and make it's own acquaintance with her breasts.

"Are you being rude there Dan?" she asked as I really needed to shuffle and adjust a certain something growing inside my pants.

"Me? Rude? Never Alice." I joked as she took my glass and watched my hand attempting to straighten my erection out. "You did this to me, how could I be rude?"

"Very funny, would you like to come to my bedroom?" she asked as my jaw just dropped towards the floor and I almost choked, but I quickly recovered my composure and made another attempt to provide a little comfort down below.

"It's so funny watching you guys manoeuvre your erections and hope we don't realise what you're doing, can I be of assistance?"

"Bloody hell Alice I don't know what to say. We haven't even been introduced." I replied as I shuffled even more knowing that my erection was likely to burst free at any time soon.

She laughed as her finger barely touched the front of my pants and I almost collapsed.

"So you didn't answer, would you like to take me to bed or not?"

"Oh hell yes, certainly I would but only if I can help you out of those panties."

"Okay, that's a deal and obviously I get to help that stiff thing out of your pants. I'm lonely Dan and need ... you can guess what I need, come with me."

So that was my introduction to Alice, my folks were ready to call for a search party as they had no idea where I'd gone. Thank goodness their hearing isn't great I thought as Alice yelled and screamed in my ear more than once.

My father now says that I should move my bed next door but why would I need to be anywhere other than in Alice's bed? It looks as though my visits are becoming a weekly event now and Alice is equally happy to look out for my oldies. xxx

[astraeus-tree]

Disparities Between Our Souls

Batfam x Neglected!Reader

Pairing: Reader x Miguel O'hara

Neglected!Reader who is transported into the ASTV universe and becomes a spider before being transported back to Gotham with their beloved

You were the oldest child of Bruce Wayne but came to the manor after Dick and Jason

You grew up with your aunt who took you in after your mother died soon your their birth

As time passed, your aunt's health worsened and she wasn't able to sustain both of you anymore

Searching through things to sell for money, she comes across a letter addressed to her from your mum, and in the letter she finds out that you are a child of Bruce Wayne

You get a blood test, it's positive and auntie decides to take her chances and send you off to live a better life as the child of a billionaire

At first it seems alright, not exactly the best but at least you had money and some company

You find out about the vigilantism a few months into their stay at the manor

Unfortunately, it's also a few nights before Jason's death and you are left to deal with overwhelming emotions alone after his death, especially when Barbara is soon found with her legs ruined by the same person who murdered your dear brother

When Tim comes you're pushed to the side even more as Bruce focuses on training him and Dick stays mostly at Bludhaven

Steph comes soon after him, but she wasn't really apart of the family and she always focused on proving herself to your father

Cassandra was introduced not long after, you wanted so badly to bond with her but with her inability to speak first few months, a language barrier was set between you two, and when that was eventually fixed, there simply weren't any opportunities to connect

Jason's return is unexpected and you want so badly to greet him with a hug, but you are pushed away

Damian is introduced and you can see the hate in his eyes as he explains that you're a liability to the family, unable to defend yourself should (when) a threat arise

You want to move out of this manor, clearly you were not welcome here anymore, but even though you were the child of Bruce Wayne, you yourself were not rich and finding a safe apartment or house in Gotham would cost you a fortune

Most of their funds also went to support their auntie as wellInstead, they opt to stay in their room at all times, moving with the shadows within the mansion, anything to stay away from their family's sights

During all this, your auntie is left with an illusion of you living a happy life

On a normal night, you wake up to excruciating pain in your arm and your body as heavy as lead

You can do nothing as heat overtakes your body, your vision is blurry and your breaths are short and quick

You think you see a colourful circle that looked oddly like a portal in the corner of their eye, but you couldn't tell if that was your mind was deceiving you

You didn't have time to decide as you passed out soon after

5 years later

You swing around the spider HQ to your darling’s office, food in hand

“Miguel, I have food for us”

You two were enjoying you food when an unknown and strange portal opened near them, you thought it looked familiar but you couldn't place your finger on it

Miguel put his hand in front of you, shielding you from whatever could come out of the portal

But instead of something or someone coming out, you two were sucked into it instead and dropped off into another world, presumably

The place you were dropped was dark, gloomy, rainy and oh-so familiar

You turned to your partner, pulling your mask over your head and urging him to do the same

“We have to get home. We cant stay here.”

Relationships and Ages (Pre-time skip)

Bruce (TBD)

His neglect for you was not intentional, but when he has a city to save at night, and basically run at day, there isn't much time to spare

Especially when he has to focus on training the other children so they don't harm themselves in the field of vigilantism

He loves you, he does, but he has to focus on what is more important

Dick (23)

Perhaps if you were introduced earlier, you two would've been closer, but unfortunately, you didn't, you came when he moved to Bludhaven, when he was focused on making a name for himself other than "Batman's Robin"

He has no major feelings for you, you are his older sibling and that's it

Jason (20)

You two were close when he was Robin, to him, you were the perfect older sibling, someone he could rely on

The only qualm he had was that he had to keep the vigilantism a secret from you, there were so many times he had almost spilled the secret out when he was talking to you

After his death, he still loved you, but he was afraid to see your reaction when you finally saw him

To him, you were innocent, a civilian needed to be far away from the crime lord, Red Hood, as far as possible to keep you safe

If only he knew how much damage he had done by doing that

Tim (18)

You didn't really get to bond

With Tim busy training as Robin then it turning to solving cases, he was spread thin

His free time was mostly spent napping anywhere he could, and that often meant you had no time to spend together

You two had no strong relations to each other, but you did admire Tim for his wits sometimes

Damian (10)

He was excited at first, to have somebody also be the blood-child of Bruce Wayne, but when he saw you, he was utterly disappointed

To him, his harsh words to you was him preparing you for the real world

Perhaps he still had hope for you, but for now he couldn't understand anything but hatred

Duke (16)

At the time of your disappearance, he wasn't introduced to the family yet

However, he knows of your existence due to the news

Babs (24)

You two were friends before, being the same age and all

But she soon became too busy with business of Oracle to focus on your friendship

Perhaps you two could rekindle that friendship, but for now there's barely any feelings held towards each other

Steph (19)

You two never really had time to bond, as said before she was just too busy with other stuff like her father and proving herself

If given the opportunities, you two could probably be close friends, but sadly you two weren't

Cass (20)

Your only sister in the family, you had hope that you two would be close, but with the language barrier it was hard to do so

When you were taken away, you two were forming a friendship, although it was definitely in the early stages, it was there and it was blooming

Alfred (Idek)

He was there sometimes and he wasn't there other times

He was busy working behind the scenes and keeping the manor clean

But when he was cooking, you would sometimes join him and it'd be a quiet, almost silent, bonding time

Wow this ended up being way longer than I thought

Ironically enough, as I was editing this, the fanfic/ao3 curse hit me and I almost got into a car crash. We are all good tho, no one got hurt and the cars are mostly fine!

Please let me know your thoughts! I'm not sure if I'll actually write this since my motivation comes and goes but if there's someone out there who really wants me to, I might continue it

Btw Bruce is older than canon, so pls don't think he had reader as a teen 😭, I swear he was at least 18. Speaking of ages, they aren't really important, they are just mostly there as my guidance in writing should I ever need them

Most of my DC/Batfam knowledge comes from fanon stuff so if they're ooc or they aren't that well written, my apologies. You're welcome to point any mistakes out and I'll try to fix it <3

If you can tell that I don't know the batgirls that well, I apologise again

This is my first time posting an actual story on tumblr so pls go easy in me

Have a great day/night <3

Edit - Fixed minor spelling mistakes

This was inspired by all the Neglected!Wayne fics, specifically Undoing Fate by Rizzanon, Ghosts of the Past by Nebulousmoon3990 and Not Your Classic Vigilante by Detectivemervelingcomics

[cheyisagirlkisser]

a concept : abby's first time with a woman. maybe her first partnered orgasm too cause we all know owen ain't shit lol.

i'm so in love with this request. @powderpinkandsweeet did this concept too and it was delicious please go read hers here!!

warnings: owen.. fingering (a! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), afab / fem reader, body worship because Abby deserves it.

a/n: I wrote Abby to be mostly bisexual in this fic, but you can interpret her feelings for men as possibly comphet or something similar. Either way, it's clear she discovers her preference for women.

Sex means a variety of things to people. In Abby's life, sex with men was mostly about love. She did feel attraction to men and she had relationships with them, last one being her ex-boyfriend Owen. It was never about the pleasure itself. Sure, there were moments when she felt physically nice during sex, but it didn't last. She was only halfway there by the time Owen was coming down from his orgasm. He didn't offer to finish her off, and aftercare was the sound of his breathless laughter accompanied by a "thanks, babe."

Abby didn't ever judge her friends who liked to have sex for less emotional reasons. At least, she didn't think there was much emotion behind it. Abby just knew more about sex within relationships. The fact that men were incapable of actually making her cum was overshadowed by feelings. Things changed when she caught a glimpse of Mel's contact in Owen's phone, though. Things changed for the better.

You were much different than Owen in ways that Abby could not grapple with. First of all, you weren't a man. Abby never really considered women as an option for her (though she had lingering thoughts about what it would be like to be with one), but seeing you at a small party, you being a friend of a friend, she wasn't exactly opposed to the idea of being involved with one.

Conversations led to observations. Whereas Owen was condescendingly sarcastic, you liked to be gentle with Abby. You never said a joke that made Abby feel bad about being a stronger woman; in fact, you told her you liked her physique. You asked about her workout routine, and you made her feel feminine. That was simply something Owen could not do. Owen was also a blind optimist. He turned away from issues in the pursuit of "ignorance is bliss." With you, it felt like you articulated your views in a way that made her question her own, even. You were clearly a thoughtful person, and you took time to educate yourself about human rights, something that should be the bare minimum but clearly Owen lacked education on. Abby could never talk to him about topics like feminist issues like she was able to with you. And lastly, a more physical observation, you made her realize that actually feeling pleasure during sex can make the sex 100 times more emotional.

You took her home with you the night you met. Abby told you about the break-up and how she was still processing it, and you didn't expect anything more from her than what she was comfortable giving. But fuck, the sex made her feel things. How was she ever supposed to feel this way with anyone else?

You had her laid on your bed, and you only kissed her for a little while. Even your kisses were like sugar, and Abby wanted so much more. Every moment of contact your lips made with hers reminded her of an artist's brushstroke onto a canvas, painting over it a masterpiece that simply cannot be undone.

Your fingers traced over her sides, heightening the pants she spills from her lips, and increasing a neediness deep within her that feels like pressure building up in a small space, needing to be let go. She was a little worried that you'd get her all worked up and not make her cum.

You noticed the way she retracted ever so slightly, and cupped her face. "Hey, what's wrong?" You asked so softly, patiently.

Abby swallowed, struggling to articulate her own feelings. She wasn't used to even speaking during sex. It never lasted long enough for her to be able to.

"We can stop if you want to." You offer, giving her a reassuring smile. Your thumb caressed her cheek, and it gave both a red warmth.

"No, it's not that-" she sighed, almost feeling annoyed with herself for making things awkward, "I just got really worked up, I guess. I've never..done this with another woman before, and men are probably different."

You nodded knowingly. "Do you want me to take care of you?"

Abby didn't know exactly what that entailed, but something in her had a pre-established trust for you, just knew that you'd stop if she needed you to. It made her want you even more.

After both of you had enough touchy-feely, Abby helped you pull her shirt and sports bra off. You admired each freckle-plastered inch of her body, from the peak of her nipples to her firm biceps. You took your time with her, and she loved it.

You used your hands first, your soft skin meeting hers. You trailed fingers over her arms, squeezing. Abby let out a soft sigh, and you took that as encouragement to lean in and plant adoration-filled kisses onto the muscle. "You're so pretty." The words were slightly muffled with your mouth on her skin, but she surely heard. It made her pulse beat faster.

You simply touched her for a while, at first warming her up and kissing her skin, mouth becoming steadily more explicit. When your mouth gently latched onto one of Abby's nipples, she couldn't keep herself from making a needy sound. Your tongue swirled over the pink bud, and Abby melted back into the bed.

Not longer after, you weren't surprised to find a pair of soaked panties worn by yours truly. Abby was laid out on your bed, legs parted for you. She was a little embarrassed that you had her so needy before even touching her.

"Fuck," is all she could manage when she felt a warm finger spread her folds open, sliding up to massage her clit.

"You like that, baby?"

"God, yes-" she breathlessly let out, trying not to completely lose it.

The way you touched her was much different from how Owen did. When he (rarely) used his fingers on her, it felt like he was trying to stab her vagina. He couldn't find a clit if it was bright red and glowing. You, however, both teased her and lavished attention on where her body knew it needed it. Your finger teased her hole before slightly stretching it, earning soft sounds from Abby.

You kissed over the firm muscles on her arms as you fucked her, careful to slip another finger into her and give her a good stretch. Abby was incoherent and so messy that her neediness was soaking your knuckles, trickling down your hand. You didn't complain or joke about it, even letting out sweet, approving hums onto her skin.

Your fingers didn't drill in and out of her like a screwdriver, much like Owen's, but rather plunging within her to press into her g-spot and curling upward. You kept your thumb on her clit, making sure she had that extra stimulation.

"Do you like it?" You asked, eyes peering up to meet hazy pair.

Abby eagerly nodded, not trusting herself to speak a sensical sentence. You smiled and carefully shifted to kiss her. This time, it wasn't as soft, rather sloppy but it was exactly what Abby needed. Everything you did made her head spin. You had her tongue between your lips, sucking on it and occasionally letting her invade your mouth and taste the sweetness of whatever was once there. Just the soft little nibbles you gave her bottom lip made her moan, a sound that would've been much louder if not swallowed by your mouth.

Best part was, you knew how to multi-task. The desperation she felt was slowly fed with the steady pace of your hand working on her pussy, and your lips made her feel what she didn't understand before: you made her realize that the physical part of sex, the part that she didn't quite like to explore with men, could be just as important as the romantic aspect.

You found a pace that Abby particularly liked, causing her to whine and tangle her fingers into the sheets.

"Fuck, right here. I'm gonna cum." She pleaded, as if so desperate to get to cum. She wanted it so badly, and it only made you more needy to give it to her.

"Yeah? You wanna cum all over my fingers for me?" You cooed, lips brushing against hers. Your short breath sent warmth onto her lips, and she wanted to always feel it. It sent heat throughout her.

"I wanna cum for you!!" Her moans were louder, but you didn't shush her. You instead leaned down to kiss her, fingers pumping into her pussy, thumb rubbing circles down onto her clit.

She felt the final seconds of chasing her orgasm, hips lifting to meet your hand, and she thanked a higher power that you weren't a man who was giving her sloppy thrusts that would never get her over the edge.

You made her feel like she was on cloud nine. She probably cried out your name a couple dozen times, grasped onto your face to kiss your lips just to feel that connection as you fucked her. She never expected to feel such emotion during an orgasm, never was she able to feel this way during masturbation or with guys. It was all because of you that her pussy was sloppy and leaking onto your sheets, making a mess.

When she came down, you let her catch her breath, soothing her with kisses on her shoulders and allowing your cheek to rest on her chest. You listened to her heartbeat, waiting for it to grow steady.

Abby felt content and safe with you, but something was still nagging her. You made her cum, but she hadn't made an effort to touch you yet. She didn't ever want to make you feel the way that Owen made her feel.

She hesitantly but gently tapped your upper back, and you sat up.

"Are you okay?" You asked with a moderate amount of concern present, wanting to make sure you didn't do anything wrong.

"Of course, but..I wanna touch you. If that's okay."

You nodded. "Have you ever touched a woman before? At all?"

Abby shook her head, cheeks a little red. She was a bit nervous, but her eagerness made up for it. You didn't seem hesitant in letting her touch you, and that made her feel more confident.

"I've honestly always wondered what it'd be like to like, go down on a girl." Abby admitted with a sheepish laugh.

You smiled and began to strip, your tank-top and bra leaving your body first. For the first time, Abby felt truly overwhelmed with seeing someone naked. You looked so soft and touchable, and she found herself wondering how you'd taste, feel, and sound like when she made you feel good. She hoped she could make you feel good.

You laid down next to where she was previously laying, and Abby situated herself in front of you. You parted your thighs, and she sworn she felt herself drooling from the sight of your glistening pussy, begging to be eaten like a savory meal.

Abby found it most comfortable to lay on her stomach, face between your legs. She wanted to make you feel appreciated (and she loved your thighs), so she planted kisses along your thighs, frequently peeking up to make sure you were comfortable. When her mouth was near your pussy, she paused.

"Can you guide me? Sorry, I know it's awkward as hell, but I have no clue how to do this and I want to make it nice for you." She could hear the shakiness in her own voice, making her slightly cringe.

Abby felt one of your hands stroke through her hair, fingers carding through the blonde. "Just do what you think would feel good, you know? You're a woman, so try to imagine it on you. I'll tell you what feels good and what doesn't." Abby let herself imagine it for a moment and nodded, knowing that the best way to learn is to just practice and listen to your moans and what you tell her you don't want.

She gave herself a second to calm her nerves, and gave an experimental lick to your clit. You made a soft sound, encouraging more.

As Abby worked, she knew she wasn't physically skilled at this, at least not yet. However, she was enthusiastic about it. She tried to make up for the lack of experience as best she could. Thankfully, you also tugged her head closer and ground your pussy against her mouth, making it easier for you to feel pleasure while she figured out what worked well for you. You seemed to like when she slipped her tongue into you and worked at your clit with her nose, your moans less steady and increasingly broken as she tasted your gummy walls.

She found that to get you to your orgasm, it took much longer than it took Owen. She enjoyed that more than she'd expected to, savoring being able to just taste you. She craved feeling the way your hips stuttered when she gave your clit a firm lick, or hear you cry out when you finally got close to an orgasm.

Abby initially didn't know whether to speed up or continue, but the rhythm of your hips helped guide her until she finally had you cumming on her tongue. You were pretty with your eyes half-lidded and brows knit tightly together, thighs pressing against her face, it made her want to just take a mental snapshot of this moment and keep it with her forever. She didn't know what she loved more, the process of eating pussy or the aftermath.

When you were stable again, Abby moved to mimic your previous action, letting her ear press against your heartbeat. You had to stifle a giggle at how cute it was, but you were probably too out of breath to even get a steady laugh out. She didn't leave sexual, sloppy kisses onto your tits, but rather gentle, loving pecks.

Abby didn't know when exactly she fell asleep, but she woke up with her chest pressed against your back, cuddling you tightly against her. It was probably early in the morning, and her body was still a bit sore, but she smiled and planted a kiss onto the back of your neck, holding your bare form close to hers as she drifted back into a peaceful sleep.

[chrisisvbun]

logan howlett x chubby!fem!reader.

Imagine Logan but like Logan in X-Men 1, swooning around Jean until she has a mission, so he actually starts to check the mansion around.

And, oh, he almost wants to kill himself when he sees you, the phycology teacher.

You are simply soft, you wear your cute outfits, a lot of 2000s fashion, your chubby belly squeezed in your clothes, making you look like a damn tease for him, so freaking turned on and with the feral need to nibble at your hips violently.

He almost wants to rip your flesh, like when you see a really cute puppy. You are not just cute. I mean, you are pretty cute, yeah, but you are hot, like fucking burning hot.

When Jean comes back from her mission, he sees Logan following you around like a lost puppy, and she thinks that was gonna stop after a few days, but it didn't, he was all over you all the time.

And with you, he discovered what Jean didn't give him and he craved. Jean only gave him some glances that didn't lead to anything, some flirty comments that died after being said. But you? You did all that with him and actually approached, actually tried back, it was clearly mutual, and how it always had to be. Two grown-ups flirting with each other's type.

And oh, Logan was weak for a woman like you, he would tattoo the face you put the first time he lifted you, you squealed and giggled around him.

And if you are a tall woman, he loves seeing you in heels, being as tall as him, and how his hands reach your ass comfortably. And of course, he loves the moment when you can't barely walk and he gets to lift you bridal style.

He is simply obsessed, and can't believe he didn't meet you before because he was all around Jean, so he cherished every second he spent with you.

[buzzinrusso]

New years meeting

I'm sorry if I didn't do this prompt justice !! It's based off this request a very nice anon sent !

---

New Year's Eve had arrived, and the city was buzzing with excitement. The streets were filled with people heading to parties, clubs, and bars to ring in the new year. You, however, weren’t looking for wild celebrations. After a hectic year, you just wanted a quiet evening to unwind, so you decided to stop by a low-key bar for a drink. The vibe was just what you needed—chilled, yet festive enough to enjoy the night

But as you sat at the bar nursing your drink, an overly confident guy had started making things uncomfortable. He slid into the seat next to you, a forced grin on his face as he eyed you up.

“Hey, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone on New Year’s Eve?” he said, his voice too loud for the quiet setting.

You smiled politely, hoping he’d take the hint. “Just having a drink. I’m good, thanks,” you said, keeping your gaze on your glass.

But the guy didn’t back off. He leaned in closer, his breath smelling faintly of whiskey. “C’mon, I bet you could use some company tonight. We could have a good time together.”

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to give him a pointed look. “I’m really not interested,” you said, your voice firmer this time.

He ignored you, moving even closer, reaching out a hand to touch your arm. “Come on, don’t be shy,” he said, his hand inching toward yours.

At that moment, you felt a sharp presence beside you—someone stepping in. You turned to see a woman with dark hair, wearing a sleek leather jacket, standing tall with a confident air. It was Alexia.

“Hey,” Alexia said, her tone calm but firm. “She said she’s not interested, so you’re going to have to piss off.”

The guy blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden interruption. “What?” he mumbled, squinting at Alexia as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I said piss off,” Alexia repeated, her voice unwavering. She stepped closer to him, eyes locking onto his with such intensity that it made the guy visibly stumble back. "She told you she’s not interested. Take the hint and move along."

The guy opened his mouth, but no words came out. He glanced at Alexia and then at you, clearly realizing he wasn’t going to win this one. Finally, he muttered something incoherent and slunk away, disappearing into the crowd.

You blinked, surprised at how easily Alexia had handled the situation.

"Thanks," you said, still a little shaken but relieved. "I didn’t know how else to get him to leave me alone."

“No problem,” Alexia said with a reassuring smile. She glanced at you, her eyes softening. “Some people just don’t get the message. Glad I could help.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension start to leave your body. “That was exactly what I needed. I was about to lose my patience.”

Alexia gave you a light laugh. “I’ve had to do that more times than I can count. People don’t seem to understand what ‘no’ means sometimes.”

You smiled, finally feeling like you could relax. “I guess I owe you one. I didn’t think anyone would step in.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you don’t owe me anything. But if you’re feeling generous, I wouldn’t mind grabbing a drink with you.”

You chuckled, feeling the ice break between you. “That sounds great. What’s your name, by the way?”

“Alexia,” she replied with a smirk. “And you?”

“y/n,” you answered, offering your hand.

She shook it firmly, her smile warm and genuine. There was something about the way she carried herself that made you feel comfortable, even in this crowded bar.

The two of you made your way to the bar to grab another round, and as you stood there, Alexia’s teammates from the other side of the room—Mapi, Irene, Patri, and Claudia—were watching, clearly noticing the dynamic between you two.

---

As Alexia ordered drinks, her teammates couldn’t help but exchange a few glances and muttered remarks. Mapi, ever the loud one, leaned over to Irene with a playful grin. “Look at Lex. First she saves the stranger, and now she’s all cozy with her.”

Irene raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping up on her face. “We all know ale isn’t exactly the talk-to-random-strangers type. She must be into her.”

Alexia had her back turned, not hearing the conversation, but you couldn’t help but notice the way her teammates were eyeing the two of you. Patri shot a knowing smirk at Claudia, who was trying to suppress her own grin.

“You think ale is going to kiss her before midnight?” Patri asked, her tone amused.

Claudia shook her head, but her lips curled into a small smile. “With the way she’s looking at her, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

The teasing continued as Alexia returned with the drinks, but she didn’t let it faze her. She was used to her teammates giving her a hard time. “Here you go,” Alexia said, handing you your drink. “Ignore them—they love to poke fun.”

You laughed, taking the drink. “I think they might be onto something though. You’ve got a bit of that ‘heart-eyes’ look right now.”

Alexia rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “They’re insufferable,” she muttered under her breath, but there was an amused sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you.

Just as the conversation died down, Patri called out loudly from across the bar, “Hey, ale, don’t forget! It’s New Year’s Eve—perfect time for a kiss, right?”

Alexia shot a glare at her, but the playful smile she gave you showed no signs of being upset. “Ignore her,” Alexia said with a chuckle. “She’s just looking for drama.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of her presence. "Well, if you insist on ignoring them, I guess I’ll just have to keep you company instead."

---

The night continued on, filled with laughter, teasing, and good conversation. As the clock ticked closer to midnight, the energy in the bar grew more intense. The countdown began, and you could feel the anticipation in the air.

Alexia was standing a little closer now, and every glance you exchanged made your heart flutter. Finally, when the clock struck midnight, the whole bar erupted in cheers. You felt Alexia step closer, her breath warm against your skin, and without a second thought, she leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t a slow, lingering kiss. It was brief, but it carried so much unspoken energy between you two—an electric charge that made everything around you disappear for a moment. When she pulled back, her smile was soft, and her eyes sparkled with something deeper.

"Happy New Year," Alexia whispered, her voice just for you.

"Happy New Year," you replied, feeling your heart race, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t care about anything else.

---

The days after New Year’s Eve were filled with messages, phone calls, and casual conversations that made you smile every time you checked your phone. Alexia had texted you the morning after the party, and you had quickly exchanged texts, agreeing to go on a proper date.

“Had a great time with you last night. Wanna grab dinner sometime this week?” Alexia had messaged you.

Your heart fluttered as you quickly responded, “Absolutely. When’s good for you?”

She replied almost instantly: “How about Thursday? There’s this great Italian place I know. The food’s amazing.”

“Sounds perfect. Can’t wait,” you texted back, already excited about the idea of seeing her again.

---

Thursday evening rolled around, and you found yourself waiting outside the restaurant, your heart beating faster with anticipation. When Alexia arrived, you couldn’t help but smile. She looked effortlessly stunning in a black leather jacket, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.

“Hey,” she greeted you with a soft smile. “Ready to eat?”

“Definitely,” you replied with a grin, feeling your nerves ease as soon as she was in front of you.

The meal was perfect—casual yet intimate, with easy conversation flowing. You laughed, talked about everything from your favorite foods to the random little details that made each of you unique. You felt like you were learning more about her with every sentence.

By the end of the evening, you exchanged numbers for real, saved each other's contacts, and promised to keep in touch. Alexia smiled at you, her gaze soft and her heart-eyes unmistakable.

“I’m glad we did this,” she said, her voice quieter now, but full of sincerity.

“Me too,” you replied, feeling the connection between you grow stronger. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Neither can I,” Alexia said, her hand brushing yours as she pulled away, a grin on her face.

As she drove away, you stood there, watching her leave with a heart full of possibility, knowing that this was just the beginning of something amazing.

---

And so, with a kiss, a few exchanged messages, and the start of something real, you and Alexia began to explore what this new year had in store for the both of you.

And that night , you both didn't know it, but you had each net the love of your lives . Your New years meeting would become a story that you would tell to your kids , and a story that your kids will tell to their kids.

[mimipolo]

i am begging

the «reuniting with your ex in the games» BUT it’s Nam-gyu falling for Thanos’ ex😭😭

Nam-gyu x reader

|This was fun to write but I'm not totally sure I did the idea justice

|Also guys when I finish all the requests I DO write for other Squid Game characters especially if they're underrated 🤞

It was easy to want to find a distraction during the games, the pressure of just wanting to survive and leave with a pretty amount of cash being the only thing pushing him forward.

But conventionally that's when he noticed you. It was during the 6-legged race, you had already formed a reliable looking group and were encouraging a frantic looking man. He didn't understand how he had missed you throughout the other games but now his eyes always drew back to you like a magnet.

You weren't even doing anything that special, just talking to that bastard's chic that left him broke. It was your soft look of concern for her that had him falter slightly, he was holding his food as he stared in your direction.

He wanted to talk to you, badly.

As he's biting the inside of his lip, considering whether or not you'll ignore him a familiar cheerful voice comes up from behind. Thanos lazily swinging an arm around his shoulder.

"Whatcha looking at ma boy?" He asked in a playful tone, grinning dopily as he follows Nam-gyu's line of sight, only to land on. You.

His face screws up dramatically as he looks between the stricken look on his friends face and then back to you. Nam-gyu's about to speak up and ask Thanos to hype him up to go talk to you but he's not given a chance when he's suddenly being dragged towards him by both shoulders.

Thanos leans in to whisper, but he's still comically loud. "Nah man, that's my ex, total priss. Trust me you don't want that." But thing is he wanted it, and bad.

He's momentarily speechless as he glances between you and Thanos, torn between his loyalty and this new warm feeling you're giving him. "Yeah...uh huh." He doesn't mean a word of it, you're definitely going to remain on his mind until he can find another way to get to you. He's brought out his thoughts by a clap to his back. "Right idea man." He says nodding his head with a furrowed lip before spinning on his heel to bother someone else, most likely Se-mi.

He couldn't care less what he was on about, your smile was sweet and he felt eager to get your care and attention on him instead. Nodding to himself with a new found resolution as we walked to his bunk to eat his food.

It was honestly unbearable trying to ignore your prescence, he's high off his rockets but he's still looking up at the ceiling stupidly as he tried not to make it obvious he was actually looking at your way and you're only standing in front of him amongst a vast crowd.

Everyone was on their way to the next game, though the colours seemed to blur and blend together he could make out a stage which everyone instinctively stepped on. What kinda game is this supposed to be? His mind is too jumbled to decipher everything like he usually would and he finds himself easily joining in on Thanos' antics.

Blood smeared the doors and floors, the mocking song that blared from above ringing in his ears. All he really had to do was get into a group with the right number, that's all, if he could understand that at least he'd be just fine.

"Two!"

The child like voice sung out and for the last time chaos erupted. His gaze immediately moves to locate Thanos, they had been in every room together so far so he didn't think this time would be any different.

Apparently he judged wrong.

The purple head of hair making some unexplainable noise before grabbing Min-su by the shoulder and skipping off.

What. The hell.

He wanted to kill him, wrap his fingers around his neck and wring him to death, taking his cross as a reward. But now wasn't the time to fantasize. He was quickly growing irritated, cursing under his breath as he looked for anyone he could easily grab.

And that's when his eyes locked with yours.

You look as frantic as he is, and he's genuinely disturbed to realise that all he's thinking about is that you noticed him in this bloody situation. He's stopped in his tracks but you're rapidly advancing towards him, grabbing his arm roughly and tugging him towards a door, not even bothering to give him the chance to accept. He wouldn't have said no way.

When another desperate player tries to grab you to join their room he quickly comes back to reality, swaggerdly pushing the man away from you and rushing to close the door behind the two of you and locking it.

You're panting. Hair falling out your hairband which you briefly grab and retie. Finally your face rises to meet his eye, finally. His back is pressed to the door still, content on watching you do the simple action of tieing your hair back. Noticing your now slightly relieved gaze on him a helplessly boyish grin forms on his face as he swallows shallowly.

"Hey."

"Hi..."

His minds scattered and he's looking for words to say to you but he's cut off by the announcement that it was safe to leave the rooms. Seeing you lean off the wall to leave he steps aside, if he was sober he would've cringed at how you didn't even have to say a word to him to get him to move. He doesn't care right now, pleased to watch your retreating back profile.

His heart stutters slightly when you turn back to look at him with tired yet considerate eyes.

"Think the game is over, you coming?"

He breathes out deeply through his nostrils as he tucks his hair behind his ears as he speeds up to walk beside you. He was doing a terrible job of trying to suppress the smug grin threatening to reveal itself but you didn't seem to notice and if you did you were mostly unbothered. Instead prioritising looking around to see the remaining surviving players.

When your eyes meet with a certain someone. Sensing the shift in your mood he doesn't know why he's surprised to see a still cheerful Thanos leaving a room with Min-su meekly following behind. His mood clearly shifts when he catches sight of you, quickly approaching the two of you, shooting Nam-gyu a judging look.

"You bitch... who woulda thought you'd end up here when you left ya boy when he was at his worst."

"We're not doing this right now, I'm tired man." He scoffs and crosses his arms at your words, rolling his eyes as he rocks from side to side.

"Convenient of you to leave after the fuck up at the competition."

"Well yeah, you managed to find a new hobby I wasn't a fan of."

You spat the words out bitterly, only getting another tsk from Thanos as he tongued his teeth. Nam-gyu could feel himself sobering up and he was able to recognise he was getting to see you up close, how grateful he was. Even if you were scolding his best friend, that scowl on your face making his heart race.

Unexpectedly those pretty eyes turn to look at him questioningly, looking him over carefully.

"You close with him?"

God knew how badly he wanted to say no to have a chance of gaining your favour but an alliance with Thanos had still done him good until now, even when he ditched him. He bit his inner cheek as he looked anywhere but your eyes.

"Yeah..."

"I see."

Thanos honestly felt offended seeing how reluctant Nam-gyu looked to admit he knew him but before he could throw any sort of tantrum he's being ushered away from you and towards the crowd of disheartened people heading for the exit. A small laugh leaves you as you watch the two, stuffing your hands in your pockets as you watched them. That guy, he didn't seem the type to be around someone like your ex, at least from what you saw today.

Everyone's currently catching their breaths and mourning those they lost. Thanos was occupied with rapping random lyrics at Se-mi and Min-su, meaning a great opportunity to potentially sneak off and see you. He wouldn't ask for anymore of those pills, he needed full focus right now, and this time analyse every curve of your face to the t.

Se-mi spares him a mean side glance as she notices him slipping away, only sighing and leaning her cheek on her palm. She couldn't care less for where he was going but she wouldn't lie and say she wasn't slightly surprised to see the man leave his dictator's side without an announcement.

You're sitting on the edge of one of the bunks, mindlessly staring towards the floor, the small group of friends you had made had been illuminated in the last game and it had left your last source of community disjointed and broken.

Your head perks up at the sound of someone clearing their throat, your brows raising slightly when you find it's the guy from before. You smile lightly at him and he swears he's found the meaning of life.

"We were a pretty good duo in that last game huh?"

"Guess you could say that."

"I was uh thinking. I could try and convince Thanos to let you in our group. I know he's-"

"I'm good."

Your blatant rejection stung more than it should, instinctively tucking his hair behind his ears.

"Thanks though, I appreciate the thought."

"Oh, course."

Immediately he forgets about all the ways he could try and convince you. Spacing out at your oddly gentle sounding words that had him strung on each syllable. He's dumbly nodding as he looks up at you with his hands peaking out his tracksuit.

"You're not as bad as him."

You say honestly, you knew of your ex's right hand but he had never particularly stood out to you until now, and at his luck in a generally good light. Tilting your head at him at his silence you sigh and lean back on your hands.

"You shouldn't listen to him too much."

"Right, yeah."

"What's your name by the way, mines [Name]."

He hadn't realised that you didn't know he already knew your name. It took several on the low eavesdropping sessions but it was a prize he proudly acquired himself. Chuckling sarcastically at himself he realised you had also asked him his.

"Nam-gyu. I know Thanos is a dick and all but you can come to me... If you want."

He had an easy going expression on but his heart was racing and he genuinely feared it might stop right in front of you, he's convinced he's pushed this too far already, obviously you'd want nothing to do with him when he's literally best friends with your ex. Yet you chuckle slightly and give a soft nod in return, a knowing smile he felt he'd been waiting ages to be directed at him.

"I'll keep that in mind, Nam-gyu."

Fucking jackpot.

[plethorawrites]

Oblivious Smallville Clark Kent who, for whatever reason, can't see how attractive he is to everyone, especially you. It isn't exactly his fault for never making a move on you when you've never really openly told him how you feel or even actually flirted with him. You wouldn't. He was your friend and you wouldn't ruin it. You had, however, complimented. A lot. He never really picked up on it though.

A comment about him looking nice in a suit when he was feeling weird about it, or telling him the haircut he thought was too short looked good on him just rolled off his back. A breezy smile and small thanks was all he'd ever give in return. So, you pined quietly, appreciating all the features he was entirely unaware anyone loved about him.

Until one night, you're stood up on a date and have to call him to come pick you up. It was sort of like being stuck by lightning, seeing you that night in a gorgeous outfit, your hair done neatly and your eyes reflecting sadness. He, without warning, realized exactly how beautiful you had always been.

You were already compassionate, funny, honest. He always knew you were an incredible person and he always felt good around you. Comfortable. Which, for an alien, was hard to feel sometimes.

But suddenly, it was like a light had switched in his head and ever since driving you home, quietly, leaving after assuring you that you didn't do anything wrong and any guy would be lucky to be with you, he couldn't stop seeing you as more than a friend.

All the little habits he brushed off became clear and something he hated focusing on but couldn't stop—chewing on your pencil while working on homework, running your hands through your hair when frustrated, licking your lips to keep them moist because you always forgot chapstick and they were always raw from the weather that had been getting colder.

Yeah, it was safe to say he was completely, totally, utterly screwed. Because he couldn't go more than half a day without thinking about you, getting jealous when someone else talked to you or made you laugh, calling just to talk for a bit. And you, he thought, would never feel the same way about him. It was a lost cause.

[mytherapyisreading14]

Between Pregnancy and Prison

Summary: You find out you’re pregnant, unfortunately a couple of weeks after Spencer got arrested in Mexico

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Angst

Warnings: Summary says it all, nothing to add

Word Count: 3k

It is late in the afternoon and gray clouds have gathered. Your apartment is quiet, aside from the soft dripping of rain and the gentle clink of a cup that JJ has just placed on the table. You sit on the old sofa, knees drawn up and hands nervously buried in your lap. You stare at the pregnancy test lying on the table in front of you.

You've been feeling exhausted for weeks, constantly tired, struggling with nausea and always having that slight pulling sensation in your abdomen. You convinced yourself it was just the stress of Spencer being wrongfully arrested. But deep down you knew something was wrong. You weren‘t the only one who noticed this and it didn‘t take long before JJ came up to you and asked you about it.

You were sitting at your desk at work, head in your hand, when you felt the familiar feeling of nausea and a dull ache in your abdomen. Again. It wasn't the first time this week that you felt this way. You had barely eaten anything, but even what little you tried to eat was hard to digest.

"Do you need a break?" JJ asked suddenly, her voice concerned. You looked up. Her eyes still sparkled, but there was something different in her gaze - something that reminded you of your condition. The last few weeks had left their mark not only on you, but also on the rest of the team.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, trying to put on a smile. "Just this damn nausea... and this stomach ache that just won't go away." JJ looked at you intently, as if she didn't fully believe your words. She shook her head slightly.

“You’ve told me about it many times. But it really doesn't sound good when it keeps happening. And you seem pretty... exhausted too. Are you really feeling this bad just because of what happened to Spencer? Or could there be something else behind it?”

You stared at your desk for a moment, the words so clear you almost got a lump in your throat. “What do you mean?” you asked quietly, although you had an idea where the question was going.

JJ took a step closer, her expression becoming even more serious. "I know you're dealing with so much right now, but... have you ever thought that there might be something else behind it?"

There was a moment of silence where you felt like the air around you suddenly became even denser. You swallowed. The nausea in your stomach increased. “You meant...maybe pregnancy?” you whispered.

JJ nodded carefully, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, it could be. I know this isn't really the time to think about this, but... sometimes the body has other signals that we don't immediately understand. Maybe it would help you just get some clarity.”

You sighed deeply and rubbed your stomach with one hand. The thoughts swirled in your head. You couldn't deny it. The last few weeks had been so chaotic that you hadn't even really noticed the changes in your own body. But somehow...somehow it was true. It didn't just feel like stress. There was something else there.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, looking down at the ground. “What if this is all just… stress-related?” you asked. “Then at least you’ll be safe,” JJ said calmly. “It could also just be because you are extremely stressed and your body is reacting to it. But maybe ruling it out will help you.”

You hesitated first, then nod slowly. You knew she was right. "Okay, you’re right,” you finally said, taking a deep breath. “Can you maybe come over then? I… I don’t know if I can do this alone.” JJ smiled as she met your eyes. She saw the pain in them.

“Of course, I’ll come over. We'll do this together, don't worry. Once you know what it is, you can finally think more clearly again.” You suddenly felt a little bit lighter. It was as if the thought of not having to go through this uncertainty alone gave you the space to breathe a little again.

“Thanks, JJ,” you whispered, trying to smile. “No problem,” she said with a smile. "You're not alone. We’ll do this together,” she said before you had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom once again.

So now, after JJ convinced you to take a pregnany test, the two of you are sitting in your living room. “Are you ready?” JJ asks quietly. She sits in the armchair next to the sofa and eyes you with a mixture of concern and understanding. “It’s okay if you’re not ready. But remember, you need to know what’s going on.”

You close your eyes for a moment. Your thoughts are a chaos of joy and fear, of hope and uncertainty. Yes, you and Spencer always said you wanted to have children. You talked about a life together, about marriage and children and the future. But now everything is messed up.

„I... I don’t know, JJ,” you say, your voice shaking. “There’s just so much that’s going wrong right now. Spencer is still in prison, and what if it's months or worse - years - before he gets out? What if I burden him with this news while he’s sitting in this stupid cell?”

JJ leans forward and places a hand on your shoulder. “You will not burden him with this news. It's a decision you have to make together. And if you're happy, then he'll be happy too. He always wanted to have children. You too. And you need to know if you’re really pregnant.” You take a deep breath. Your mind is racing.

What if Spencer really had to stay in prison that long? You don't want to put this burden on him, but you can't just move on without knowing what's really going on. And you also know that you can no longer live in uncertainty.

You feel like you're stuck, caught between the future you imagined and the frightening reality in which Spencer is still trapped. “Okay,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I'll do it. I want to know.”

JJ nods without saying a word and stands up to pick up the test. She puts the test on the table and looks at you as if to give you time to calm down before daring to look at it. “Are you sure?” JJ asked one last time, standing next to her and looking at her sideways. You nod, your heart beating faster and the nervousness settling in your limbs.

But there's also a small, quiet joy within you - the idea that the dream you and Spencer have always wanted can finally become a reality. You grab the test and slowly turn it over. Your breath hitches as you looked at the results. Two red lines. Clearly.

“Oh my god…” you whisper, a smile spreading uncertainly on your lips. You couldn't help but put your hand over your mouth for a moment. It's so surreal. On the one hand, you are overjoyed. This is what you have always wanted. But at the same time, there's this huge insecurity that you can't shake. What if Spencer isn't there in time to experience it?

“It’s positive,” JJ says softly and smiles. Her voice is calm, but you can see the joy in her eyes. “You’re going to be a mom. You’re going to be parents.” You nod, but your eyes fill with tears immediately.

You are happy, so incredibly happy, but also so full of doubts. What should you say to Spencer? How would he react if he heard it? He needs to know, but the thought of breaking that news to him in his current situation somehow feels so... wrong.

“What if he can’t live to see it?” you finally ask, your voice shaky. “What if he doesn’t get out fast enough? How am I supposed to do all this alone?”JJ sits back down on the chair and takes your hand.

“You are not alone. You have me, you have your family, you have the team. And Spencer - even though he's in prison - he's still a part of it. He will be part of this miracle. And when he comes back, he’ll be happy to experience it with you,” she says. “But… the timing…” you start uncertainly, “what if it gets too much for him?” you ask.

“Yes, it’s complicated. Yes, it's not the perfect time. But you know what? There will never be a perfect time. Sometimes you just have to have the courage to take the next step. And you'll see that it turns out to be the right one at some point." You lower the test slowly, but still keep your eyes on it.

The joy you feel is overwhelming - you can already imagine a life with Spencer and a baby. But at this moment uncertainty prevails. You don't know what the future will bring and it scares you. “I’ll tell him right away,” you finally whisper. JJ nods and stands up to hug you.

“That's exactly what you should do. You two will get through this together. No matter what happens.” You close your eyes and hug JJ tightly, the pregnancy test still in your hand. A new chapter has begun, and even if you don't have all the answers, you know you've taken the first step.

-

You've made the trip to prison many times, but today everything is different. The rain has evaporated to a light drizzle, covering the streets in a dull haze. You can barely concentrate, the thought of the news you're about to tell Spencer making your heart beat faster.

Part of you is nervous, the other is happy - it's news you've both always wanted for the future - but now that the moment has come, you feel strange and uncertain. What if he doesn't respond the way you hope? What if that's the last thing he wants to hear in this situation? You can understand it to a certain extent.

When you reach the prison building, you get out and walk through the gate, the sound of the massive door closing is ringing in your ears. The waiting room is the same as always - gray walls, worn chairs and the constant feeling of separation that you can never completely get rid of here. The minutes barely seemed to pass as you wait for him to come in. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

“He’s coming soon,” the security guard says without further ado as he stares at his monitor. You nod and try to organize your thoughts. You sit down, hands nervously on your thighs, then your belly. Your gaze is focused on the window in front of you, through which you will soon see Spencer.

Your eyes are already burning from the tears you desperately have to hold back in order to appear strong. But when the door opens and you see Spencer, his familiar face behind the glass that you miss so much, it feels like your heart is being ripped out.

Spencer looks at you through the window and there is the same exhaustion in his eyes, the same weariness that is in your own eyes. But you can see much more than that - He doesn't belong here. That's the thought that haunts you every time you see him in this environment. You can't imagine what it must feel like to be trapped, innocent, in a system that seemed to be turned against you.

It breaks your heart to see him here. Your eyes fill with tears that you can't hold back, despite your best efforts. “Oh, Spence,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gently place your hand on the glass, as if you could reach him.

He sits down on the bench on the other side of the glass, and as soon as he looks at you, he immediately notices that something is wrong. He frowns and looks at you worriedly, he also puts his hand on the window as if he wanted to touch yours, even though he knows it won't work. It hurts him to see you like this.

“Hey, hey…” Spencer said quietly when he noticed your tears, and his shoulders immediately tightened. "What's wrong, angel?" His voice is soft, almost fragile. “You have to stop crying. It hurts me to see you like this. I can't reach out to you and hold you in my arms. I can’t comfort you. It breaks my heart.”

You hastily wipe away your tears, trying to regain control of your emotions, but the mix of joy and pain makes it almost impossible. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest as you search for the right words. “It’s just… I’m sorry. I... I just wanted to tell you how much I miss you,” you say.

You need a moment to calm down. “I come with… big news today.” Spencer raises an eyebrow and his gaze becomes even more attentive. “News?” he asks, as if he wants to get every word out of you, but at the same time he also feels the burden you carry with you. It's obvious you have something more important to say.

You take a deep breath and wipe away the last of your tears, even as the emotions continue to rise within you. “I've been feeling worse for the last few weeks. I thought it was just stress after everything that happened. I somehow kept telling myself that. But JJ noticed that I had other symptoms that I just ignored. She said I should take a pregnancy test.”

Spencer stays silent, his eyes still worried, but now a hint of foreboding seems to be stirring in his eyes. “And what did the test show?” he asks cautiously, as if he’s not sure if he really wants to hear the answer. You can't stop yourself from smiling, even though your voice is still shaking. “It’s positive,” you say and the words themselves are creating a different reality.

The moment you said it feels surreal. It's something you've always wanted, a future you've always dreamed of. But at this moment you are not sure whether it all really fits into this world. Spencer is in prison. You are at home, alone. But you know you have to share this message with him. You are going through this together.

“You’re going to be a dad, Spence,” you whisper, and despite the uncertainty you feel, you can’t help the smile that’s starting to form in your eyes. You stare at the glass between you, your hand still placed on it. When you look at Spencer, you notice how his eyes are shining.

He can't quite hide the tears, but there's also a smile on his lips that's so warm that it instantly makes your heart skip a beat. It is a smile that radiates hope and love despite the circumstances, despite the prison and all the fear that stands between you.

“I’m so happy,” he finally says, his voice shaky as he forms the words. “I can hardly believe it. You're going to be a mom. We're going to be parents." He takes a deep breath, and you can hear the relief and joy in his voice, but also the pain that comes with it. “But I should be with you. I should be there to help and support you all the time,” he continues, a glimmer of desperation entering his eyes. “But I can’t help you. There’s nothing I can do for you.”

You feel your heart clench. You know he wants to be with you, to hold your hand, to comfort you, and to experience this together. “Spence,” you whisper, voice soft but full of conviction. “I want nothing more than for you to be here with me. That we experience this together. But we’ll get through it. And I won’t do it alone. I have my friends. I have the team - JJ, also with children, who will help me - we will manage it somehow.”

You feel your voice take on a hint of certainty as you continue. “And we’ll keep trying to get you out of here as quickly as possible. I promise you, we'll do everything we can to get you back with me. I'm now in my eighth week, Spence. We still have a little time, and I will fight to get you back here before the birth date. I don’t know how, but I’ll make sure you’re there when our baby comes.”

Spencer lets out a small, shaky breath as he hears your words. For a moment he just sits there, the smile gone, and yet in his eyes you can see that deep love and gratitude flowing through him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are so incredibly strong. And you are here, despite everything that has happened. You're still there for me. I… I love you so much.”

You swallow, the lump in your throat almost too big to swallow. You want to tell him so many things, make so many promises. But your voice cracked as you replied, “I love you too, Spence. And I will always be there for you. We will get through this together, no matter what happens. We have each other. And that’s the most important thing.”

But suddenly you hear the bang of the door and the prison guard appears in the window, a sign that the time is around o'clock. “I'm sorry, unfortunately time is up. You have to go now,” he says. You take a deep breath and withdraw your hand from the glass.

You give him one last look and you know that this moment is yours - even if it's too short. You smile at him through the glass. “I have to go, Spence,” you say quietly, your voice almost breaking. “But I will come back. And we will do it. We’ll get you out of here soon. You’ll be with me again, I promise you.”

Spencer nods, his eyes following you, and there's an unspoken promise in his expression. “I'm waiting for you. I love you,” he says goodbye. “I love you too,” you say, your voice firm and full of determination. You let your gaze rest on him again, then you slowly stand up, turn around and leave, the thought of him and what you will go through together in your heart.

The hallway is empty as you close the door behind you. You know you don't have to walk this path alone. And you will do everything you can to bring Spencer back - for the team, for yourself, and for the little life you will soon create together.

[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 & 𝔪𝔬𝔯��…

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

[jybyls]

Our world || J.O

Masterlist

Synopsis: Your girlfriend's come back home for the weekend.

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive content, not proofread, bad writing, short, and I think that's it.

Words: 830~

- 📜🎧🍂 -

On your day off, you decided not to do anything special. Just sleep and eat and sleep some more. You were currently still sleeping even if it was already ten a.m. and you weren't planning on waking up any time soon, but life had different plans for you.

You felt your bed sinking at the weight of someone else who woke you. You opened your eyes in confusion only to see your girlfriend, Jenna, with a sweet smile on her face, "Good morning, sleepyhead." She whispered, brushing your hair off your face.

You weren't fully awake, so you didn't completely understand what was going on. You knew Jenna was away for work, and she wasn't supposed to be back till next month, so it's fair to say you were surprised.

"What- when ? Wait. What ?" You stuttered, causing her to chuckled at your confusion, "I got two days off, so I came to see you, love." She explained, and only now did it make sense to you. "Wait, so I get to spend the weekend with my girlfriend ?!" You exclaimed, full of happiness.

Jenna softly laughed, finding your excitement endearing, "Yes, love. We're going to spend the weekend together." She barely had time to finish her sentence that you rushed into her arms, both for you falling down on the floor. She secured her arms around you, happily smiling at your joy while you buried your face into her neck, not caring that you fell.

"That happy, huh ?" She teased, her hands caressing your back. You eagerly nodded, "I'm so happy. I missed you so much." You mumbled against her neck, holding her tighly like she would slip away. Her features softened, and so did her voice, "I missed you too. So much. I'm so glad to be back home." She softly spoke.

She was so unbelievably content to have you back. I'm her arms that she never wanted to let go, and the feeling was mutual.

All her anxiety faded away the second she was with you. It was like you shielded her from the negativity of this world without even trying.

Your existence alone was enough for her well being and the only thing she wanted was to show you her gratitude so the moment she heard your stomach crowling she didn't waste any time to carry you back into your bed and rushed to the kitchen to make you some breakfast.

Soon enough, she was back with slices of bread with jam on it, a proud smile on her face, "Breakfast is here !" She sat down next to you, putting the plate on your lap. "I thought you abandoned me for a moment." You sarcastically said since she suddenly left the room. "No, I would never. It was just to make breakfast for my princess." She grinned, putting your hair behind your ear as she kissed your cheek.

You slightly blushed, soflty smiling at her kind gestures, "Thank you, Jenna. I really appreciate it." You took a bite into your slice of bread and hummed at the taste. You turned your head to her with the slice of bread still in your mouth, Jenna quickly understood what you wanted, so she took a bite, giggling at the silly action.

You guys were catching up on everything even tho you'd call each other every day while you weren't together to keep the other one updated. You enjoy your breakfast with your girlfriend, cuddling up to her, feeling her warmth agasint you brought you so much comfort.

You missed her like crazy you can barely believe she's with you right now, holding you, kissing you every now and then, whispering sweet nothings in your ears. Her kisses became more regular and passionate. Your breakfast was now long gone and forgotten, and all your attention was on Jenna.

She cupped your cheek, bringing you closer to her. You were quick to straddle her lap, your arms around her neck, what a hand in her hair, while her hands travelled down your waist. "I missed you so much, love. Missed your body, your lips, your hands. Everything." She whispered, kissing your jaw.

You contently sighed, loving the feeling of her lips on you, "Gosh, I missed you too." You mumbled, ecstasy could be heard in your voice.

Jenna smirked, slightly squeezing your waist, "Can I take off your shirt, love ?" She asked. Her fingers were already toying the hem of your shirt. You immediately nodded, eager to feel more of her.

Neither of you could wait to love on each other after so much time away from the other one. You both only wanted to show to your lover how much you've missed them.

Your clothings were everywhere on the floor of your room, your bed was total mess and were you but you didn't care because you were with the love of you life for the weekend and that was the height of happiness in your life.

As long as you were with her, nothing mattered.

- 📜🎧🍂 -

A/n: I hate this, but I felt like I needed to post something, so here we go. Love y'all <3