#taehyun x female reader

[hyukascampfire]

𝒯𝑂: 𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑂𝑁𝐸 𝐹𝑅𝑂𝑀 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑀 𝐶𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐸 ༉

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

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

wc ➳ 20.2k

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

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

playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

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

← ⑊ →

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He furrows his brows. “I meant it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes consider you. “It bothers you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perhaps I could,” he says. 

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

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

He frowns at you. “I see how it is.” 

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

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

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

“Now, we’re really not friendly.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mostly, blocked.” 

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

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

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

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

Blinking, you fumble out a nod. 

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

❆

You hate it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Will it ever go away? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The bow?” you ask.

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

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

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

❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hurry,” you say. 

“Go ahead.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t like this.” 

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

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

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

  ❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeonjun’s eyes bare down on you.  

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

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

Yeonjun had spoken of you here?  

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

He takes it in stride. “Yes, it is.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pretty.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝓊𝑛 

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

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

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

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

𝑁𝑜. 𝒯ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝑠𝓃’𝑡 𝑒𝓃𝒹.   

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝓊𝓃 

The letters change with your prolonged silence, too. 

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

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

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝑢𝓃 

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

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

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

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

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

  ❆

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

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

“Where are you going?” you ask him.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyun had been there that day.  

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

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

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

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

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

What on earth are you doing? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve finished your plate. “Fair.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It seems that the prince has made his move. 

❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown. “More interesting...” 

He nods, enthused.  

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

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

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

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

❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 But, if not in another human, then who? 

❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head, throat dry. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You give a passing glance over at his ears. 

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

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

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

“I don’t think you will,” he says. 

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

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

❆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Around a thick swallow, you nod.  

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

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

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[beomiracles]

I know I already requested something but I just came up with a specific prompt...

An angsty (maybe tatted) Taehyun who's a smoker and his friend (reader) is totally against it. He asks what else can he be addicted to and,,, well sex 🙂

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... the second you sent this one in I knew it was the one of the two I would pick hehe. sucker for people who smoke, share ur cigs with me (flirting) ─ it might not be as smutty as you wanted but I felt like this is what fit the plot best? :>

not very proofread I fear...

wc -> 1.8k

pairings smoker!taehyun x afab!reader warnings friends to ???, smoking, taehyun has tattoos, references to alcohol, very public fingering, kissing >.<

The loud thumping of music fills your ears as you stumble out of the beating club. The cold night air showering your body in goosebumps; you shudder as you wrap your arms around yourself. Peering out across the dark street, you find a lonesome figure slumped by the side of the road, their back turned to you. 

You stagger over, heels clacking against the pavement. Upon reaching the figure, you slump down next to them, pulling on your heels with a small grimace. “Stupid fucking shoes..” you mutter as you twist the strap around your ankle. The person next to you scoffs, the small action carrying a dark cloud in your direction and you turn to give them a glare. 

“I thought I told you to quit smoking”, you scold as you point an accusing finger in the direction of Taehyun. He merely rolls his eyes as he brings the cigarette to his lips, taking a slow drag. “You did”, he muses as he twists it between his fingers, blowing you another cloud of smoke. Scrunching your nose in disgust you turn back to your shoes as you attempt to pry them off. 

“Piece of shit”, you whine as your fingers slip against the small clasp. Taehyun cocks an eyebrow at you as his gaze drops to your feet, “are you drunk?”, he asks and you frown. “No…tipsy at best!” You state as you use both hands to untie the leather straps of your heels, it takes some effort but at last you get it open. Kicking your shoes off, you sigh as you stretch your legs out in front of you. 

Leaning back on your hands, you let your head fall back as your eyes flutter closed, the smudged makeup on your face shimmering in the moonlight. “You know that shit kills you?” You mutter without looking at him. Taehyun smirks as he shakes his head, “aren’t we all bound to die?” — His words make you snort, “that’s so cliché.” 

He purses his lips as his gaze drifts to the empty road, “thought you liked those?” — You roll your eyes, “yeah, in movies. There’s nothing cliché about dying of lung cancer”, you then state and Taehyun refuses a small chuckle. For a moment everything is quiet, even the loud bass of the club behind you seemed to have died down, the fresh night air slowly began sobering you up. 

“Why do you smoke?” You suddenly ask, part of you wonders why you hadn’t asked that very question years ago. You had known Taehyun almost your whole teens, and up until early adulthood he had always been seen with a cigarette in his hand. Though you had told him off about it plenty of times, you never stopped to ask why he even did it in the first place. 

Taehyun sighs next to you as he takes another drag, slowly letting the polluting air drain down his lungs. He tips his head back as he exhales, “why don’t you?” His countering question made you frown, “because it’s fucking disgusting? And I want to live above the age of 30”, you calmly state, a small pout forming on your lips. 

“That still didn’t answer my question”, you add as your finger taps the pavement behind you. Taehyun hums, seemingly considering his answer carefully. “I suppose I do so because it feels good”, he shrugs and you can’t hold back your scoff. “That’s such a bullshit reason”, you jeered. — “There’s plenty of other enjoyable things.” 

“Like what?” 

His question catches you off guard and you open your eyes as you tilt your head to look at him. You find him watching you with a curious, almost menacing expression, the corner of his lip threatening to curl into a smirk. You blink as your lips part, “well…y’know, stuff.” — “Stuff?” He queries and you feel your already blush painted cheeks redden. “Well yeah…oh come on don’t act like you don’t know”, you retort as you shoot him a small glare. 

Taehyun merely grins as he raises an eyebrow, “I don’t.” — You let out a small huff as you leisurely kick your heels around in front of you. “Well…things like kissing are nice I suppose..” you sheepishly mumble as your gaze remains on your discarded shoes. Beside you, Taehyun seems to consider your words as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek.  Letting his cigarette drop to the ground as he crushes it with the sole of his shoe, causing you to glance in his direction with a confused frown. 

“What are-” 

You don’t get another word out before he leans in so close that you almost forget how to breathe properly. His breath reeks of smoke but you can’t find it in yourself to push him away. “Taehyun..?” You whisper, thinking that maybe you had drank more than you initially thought and that the liquor was playing a cheap trick on you. But his nose grazing yours made everything feel very real. 

His gaze drops to your lips, your lipstick smudged from hours spent on the dancefloor and chugging multiple rounds of shots. “Kissing, you say?” His voice is merely above a whisper and before you know it he presses his lips against yours. 

To kiss Kang Taehyun felt…weird. He had been a part of your life for so long as nothing more than a friend that it had never even crossed your mind what it would be like to have his tongue slide against your own. At the same time you find it hard to push him off, your lips responding against his without hesitation as you wrap an arm around his inked neck. Taehyun’s kisses were sweet, which certainly wasn’t something the multiple tattoos adorning his skin would let on to. 

And suddenly it felt as if you didn’t know him at all. This wasn’t the Taehyun you had called your friend for so many years, the Taehyun you had binged movies with or stayed up late with as you face timed. This was someone completely different, and a small part of you, a very curious part, wanted to get to know him better. 

A rough hand moves down the naked skin of your calf as he squeezes the flesh there, gently spreading your legs as he swiftly slid in between them. “T-Taehyun..” you murmur against his lips, but he doesn’t answer. Teeth clashing together as his chest presses against your sweaty one, you pull yourself from the hot kiss as you pant. Before you, Taehyun licks his lips as his gaze drops to your neck, his eyes roaming over your chest, barely concealed by your small sparkly top. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t gone clubbing together before, he was used to seeing you in revealing clothing. — But something in the air felt different tonight, you almost didn’t recognize the hunger in his eyes as his hand snaked around your waist. 

Soft lips graze along the curve of your neck and your head tips back as you gaze up toward the starlit sky. “The others, Taehyun…” you mumble as you steady your hands on the hard concrete of the sidewalk behind you, “they’ll come looking for us and, o-oh..” His cold fingers creeping up your thigh interrupt any train of thought and your mouth fell open as he brushed them against the lining of your panties. 

“They’re probably wasted”, he scoffs as he dips his fingers inside the thin fabric of your underwear, making you shudder as you bite back a small moan. “M-Maybe but…” The way his index finger circles your clit instantly makes your speech falter and you gasp out into the cold air. “You worry too much”, he grunts against the skin of your neck as he trails his kisses up along your jaw. 

Your brows knit together, “h-ah, do I?” Taehyun doesn’t answer as he pushes a teasing finger inside of your wet cunt, making your thighs wrap around his inked forearm, your skin rubbing against his painted one. His thumb slowly circles your clit as his middle finger dwells deep into your core, drawing a lewd moan from your lips. 

You had often seen him with other girls, just like he had seen you with other guys, it never made you feel particularly jealous, he was only your friend, right? How could you have been so blind to not see what you’d had in front of you all along. Gripping onto his shoulder, your nails sink into the fabric of his t-shirt as your head leans against his chest, his hand between your legs making you feel dizzier than any liquor ever had.

The sound of the door to the club behind you instantly makes you freeze, but before you can turn your head to assess the situation further Taehyun’s mouth is back on yours. Your eyes widened as you tried to pry him off, only to be met by a harsh groan as his hand around your waist pulled you closer. “Don’t turn around”, he murmurs against your lips and you do as he says. 

What had turned out to be a rather drunk couple of friends, muttered a few slurred sentences along the lines of ‘everyone’s got someone to kiss besides us”, before they all staggered down the empty street, brushing the small scene off once more. Seemingly unaware of Taehyun’s fingers deep inside of you. — You let out a sigh of relief and Taehyun pulls back with a small smirk. “Don’t look so smug”, you groan, his thumb on your clit causes a shiver to ripple through you, a small ‘f-fuck’, leaving your lips. 

He manages to coax a small whimper from you as he pushes a second finger inside, feeling you immediately clench around his long fingers. You swallow as your gaze meets his, filled to the brim with desire as he intently watches every change in your expression, from the small twitch of your brow to the way your lips parted. Your makeup too, was most certainly all over the place at this point, but you couldn’t find it in you to care as the familiar feeling surged in your stomach. 

“Fuck, you look fucking gorgeous”, he breathes as his gaze darts down to the way your thighs squeezed around his arm, a small groan passing his lips as you clung to him. With a small cry you shuddered as you came all over his fingers, your essence sliding down his hand as he continued to push in and out of your throbbing cunt, making you wail against the overstimulation. 

Taehyun’s lips are quick to sweep in and catch yours in a searing kiss. “Fuck”, he mutters as he slowly withdraws his hand, smearing your fluids all over your thighs as he squeezed the flesh. He leans back as he watches your dazed expression with a big smirk. 

“This might just top smoking.”

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[kimbappykidding]

Imagine TxT teasing you for your crush on Taehyun

All of TxT were beautiful but there was just something about Taehyun that made you weak. It wasn't even his looks! You of course noticed his beautiful big eyes and charming smile but that wasn't what made you fall for him. You loved his chill personality and how effortlessly cool he was. You always liked the quiet mysterious type and that was Taehyun down to a tee. He wasn't easily swayed or won over and you admired that. Then you learned he was also a great singer, strong as hell and a nice person. That's when you stopped denying your crush and the members worked it out soon after.

You were a soloist under the same label as them and as you were similar ages often hung out and became friends. Being a soloist you were quite confident and loud but they noticed you'd become quieter in one particular scenario...around Taehyun.

When Taehyun was in front of you, you started questioning yourself more and thought over what you were going to say before you said it. In other words, you went from being a Beomgyu to being a Soobin and that was noticeable. When Yeonjun asked if you had a thing for Taehyun (when the boy had left of course) you went bright red and that answered that question.

So the boys began teasing you for your crush on Taehyun. They claimed it was to try and encourage you to ask him out but they enjoyed it just a little bit.

You worked on the same floor as TxT and shared a breakroom with them. You could have your own but being a soloist can be lonely sometimes so you happily merged with TxT. You came into the room and Beomgyu cheered "Y/n!". You smiled "hey, sorry I can't stay I'm looking for my phone". You only then noticed Taehyun was also in the room and looked down slightly. "Okay but can you help us?" Beomgyu asked "we were debating something. "Okay" you said nodding and Beomgyu smiled "what do you think is Taehyun's best hair colour? I think blonde or red but he thinks black. What do you think he looks best in?". You immediately paused trying not to react in any way. You could see Beomgyu smirking but Taehyun was just watching you, patiently waiting for an answer. You thought every hair colour suited Taehyun and so having to just pick one right in front of him was beyond hard. "Erm I quite like the new orange you've got". "Really?" Taehyun asked and you nodded. "You're not just saying that because it's what's in front of you are you?" Beomgyu asked pushing you "come on Y/n dig deep! What's your real favourite?". "I...I'm not sure but I do like the orange" you told Taehyun "it's a hard colour to pull off but you do it really well". You were looking down embarrassed so didn't see the look on Taehyun's face but Beomgyu did and he smiled. Taehyun had been a little self-conscious of his current hair colour which had started this whole debate. So your words brought a smile to Taehyun's face who was relieved to hear a girl say he looked good. "Thanks Y/n" Taehyun said and you nodded "no problem" before going back to searching.

While you were looking down the side of the sofa, Beomgyu nudged Taehyun's arm and passed him something. Taehyun looked down to see it was your phone! Judging from Beomgyu's grin he'd stolen it and was including Taehyun in the *fun*. Taehyun tried to give it back but Beomgyu wouldn't take it. So Taehyun placed it on the table hoping you'd see it but you didn't. You didn't seem to glance near him and Beomgyu chuckled happily to himself. "Maybe it's not in here" you sighed "but where is it?". Taehyun sighed and placed it on the chair beside him "hey Y/n this isn't it, is it?" he asked holding it up "I just noticed it here under this cushion". You looked up and your eyes lit up when you saw it in his hand. "That's it! Taehyun you're amazing!". "Aww Y/n that's so nice of you to say!" Beomgyu awed and Taehyun saw you get embarrassed and blush. "It's no problem" he said ignoring Beomgyu "I lose mine all the time" and with another thank you to him you rushed away. "Why did you steal Y/n's phone?" Taehyun asked and Beomgyu grinned "no reason". He'd tease you but there was no way he'd admit right to Taehyun's face that he did it because of your crush on him. He was chaotic but he was a lawful chaotic.

The next time TxT got you with their scheming it was Huening Kai, who you mistakenly thought was still an innocent baby. Their latest comeback was out and he invited you to do a reel with him for social media. You agreed and even came in on your day off to do it with him. You hadn't dressed up and came straight from the gym so didn't look your best but you were only seeing Huening! Or so you thought...

Huening texted you it was in rehearsal room 3 so you let yourself in and didn't even check through the glass to see who was in there. "I'm here! and only 10 minutes late!" you called grinning before you froze seeing Taehyun standing there. "Oh my god I'm so sorry!" you cried "Kai told me it was room 3". "It is!" Taehyun said "didn't he tell you I was doing it with you instead? He wasn't feeling great this morning". You looked down at your phone and saw a message from Huening Kai "Have fun Y/n ;)". You almost gasped at the mischievous maknae and nodded to Taehyun "yeah it's just come through now". "You ready to get started?" Taehyun asked and you nodded "yeah of course and set your stuff down. Taehyun spotted your protein shake and smiled "just come from the gym?". You nodded "yeah that's why my outfit isn't shoot ready but they told me I can change into an old stage one". Taehyun nodded "yeah we can learn it first then you can change...but to be fair you look fine in that. Can we just do it as she is?" he asked the staff. Your eyes almost popped out of your skull "no! I mean I look all lazy and like I don't care". Taehyun shook his head "I don't think so, I like your gym outfit but you can of course change in you want to" and you blushed at Taehyun saying he liked your gym gear.

You moved on to learning the steps and were relieved that your brain could still work even when Taehyun was in proximity to you. He was also a good dancer teacher and you managed to pick up the steps pretty quickly. "Yeah that's it, wow you mastered that so fast!" Taehyun said praising you and you shook your head "no I just...you're a good teacher, you made it nice and easy" you insisted. "Well either way I think you're ready so fancy shooting?" he asked. You nodded "yeah I'll just go change real quick give me 5 minutes" and went to see what they'd chosen for you.

You were pleased because it was an outfit that you thought you looked pretty good in but when you came back Taehyun had also changed and he looked amazing! They'd clearly tried to match your outfits because you both had a punk vibe but Taehyun just looked amazing in his ripped white vest and leather trousers. He had some chains around his neck and fingerless gloves on. His biceps were exposed and your eyes went to them without even meaning to. "Wow" you said when you saw him and then panicked realising you'd said that out loud. "I mean you look good" you said and Taehyun smiled "so do you, who would've thought our concepts would work so well together?". "Yeah it's a happy coincidence" you agreed still not trusting yourself to look up from the floor. "Okay so if you stand together in the centre of the room. we'll do a couple of takes so even if you mess up just keep going" the staff directed you and you nodded.

Seeing Taehyun go all out right beside you was so impressive and hot. You'd seen him dance before but never this close to you and you blushed at the interactive part where he leaned an arm on your shoulder. "Y/n make sure to look up at the camera for that last part" the staff said catching you and you nodded determined to just get on with when Kai appeared. "Hi" he said sauntering into the studio "I've just got back from the doctor and he says I'm sick but I wanted to see you guys perform together. You look amazing side by side". You blushed murder in your eyes but could hardly attack Kai in front of so many people so you just thanked him and got ready to finish the shoot. Kai stood right behind the camera with a smile on his face and you were determined not to let him know he'd won. So you performed as if the rent was due and the staff all cheered when you were done. "That was so good!" they cried and you blushed "really?" and you and Taehyun leaned forwards to watch.

The footage was really good. You and Taehyun were so in sync and you looked so confident beside him! Anger was apparently your most effective emotion because there was no question about which take they were using. You tried to catch Kai after the shoot but he rushed off pre-empting your mood. You turned to grab your stuff to find Taehyun watching you. "Hey are you heading home?" Taehyun asked and you nodded "yeah I am, why?". "Could I walk with you? My gym is near you and I'm done for the day now". "You're done?" you asked and Taehyun nodded "yeah I was just filling in for Kai, it's my day off too". "Oh I had no idea, that's so kind of you!" you said reminding yourself to punch Kai extra hard for doing this to Taehyun. "It's fine" Taehyun said "Kai told me you were coming in especially and I didn't want you to come all this way for nothing". You smiled "thank you" and Taehyun shrugged "no problem" walking out with you.

"So do you work out often?" Taehyun asked you and you paused "oh not really, I only do 3 or 4 days a week. I enjoy it when I'm actually there but I find I don't have lots of time and the time I do have I don't necessarily want to spend in the gym". Taehyun nodded "that's fair enough, I'm not always in the gym either". "Really?" you asked smiling "you're known as the strongest TxT member for a reason". Taehyun blushed, looking down as you said that and you worried you might've been too forward he didn't seem uncomfortable. "Okay I am but I didn't want you to think I was one of those guys obsessed with looking strong and working out. You know whose only hobby is the gym". You were shocked he wanted you to have a good impression of him but very pleased. "I don't think that about you" you reassured him and Taehyun smiled.

You chatted more about what you did at the gym and Taehyun seemed impressed with how much weight you could lift and you were surprised to learn you both ran the same long distance. You also chatted about what else you did and it was surprisingly nice. With each word, you felt more and more comfortable with him. You were surprised how much interest he was showing in you and were you dreaming or was he actually flirting with you a little?

When you reached his gym you stopped so you could finish what you were saying you'd both been talking so much! You both stayed outside the gym for 5 minutes because you had too much to say but finally you felt like you should let Taehyun go. "Well today was super fun, maybe we should work out together sometime?" Taehyun asked and you blushed "yeah I'd love that". Taehyun smiled back "great, well I'll probably see you tomorrow at work then" and with a wave, he disappeared inside.

What on earth was happening?

The other members of TxT noticed you and Taehyun were closer and of course, took all the credit. "All I'm saying is we better get a toast on your wedding day" Yeonjun said when you were over at theirs for a movie night. "Yeah, and we want you to name your kids after us starting with Beomgyu!". "We're not getting married or having children, we've just started talking to each other" you argued. "Yeah but you'll get there" Huening Kai said so nonchalantly you were surprised. "Why are you guys so certain this will evolve into something more? How do you know Taehyun isn't just being nice or doesn't just want to be friends". Yeonjun went to speak when Beomgyu snorted. "What?" you asked him and then noticed him looking at something behind you. You turned to see Yeonjun shaking his head at Beomgyu and jumped "what was that?". "What was what?" he asked shooting you a smile. "What was that look?" you asked "you were telling him not to say anything! Why?". "Why can't we just tell her?" Beomgyu sighed and then Yeonjun punched him. "Ow!" Beomgyu cried "yeah good going she's not more suspicious now". The two were getting ready to argue when Huening Kai frowned "but why can't we tell her? We know her secret". "Yes but she chose to tell us" Yeonjun argued. "Not really, you asked her if she liked Taehyun and she just blushed" Soobin reasoned. Yeonjun frowned "really?" and the others all nodded. "So you bullied her into spilling big shock" Beomgyu said rubbing his arm and Yeonjun sighed "we can't! We promised we wouldn't". "I didn't! I was very careful with that" Beomgyu admitted "I nodded my head but never promised". "Fine then you do it but I want no part of this!" Yeonjun said and he went to sit away from you all. "Okay Beomgyu spill!" you cried and he turned to you "okay we're sure this will evolve into more because Taehyun's into you".

"What? No..." you said but the smiles on Soobin, Beomgyu and Huening Kai's faces made you pause "really?". "Yes!" Beomgyu practically shouted "see when we found out you liked him we started working on Taehyun too! We'd talk you up to him and point out how pretty you looked and things like that". You blushed "really? that's so sweet". It wasn't his idea!" Yeonjun said coming back over "Beomgyu did just want to torment you but I was the one who suggested we do something proactive" he explained. You smiled "well that was really kind of you thank you Yeonjun, and you think it's worked?". "Totally!" Yeonjun said "Taehyun was in his own world so you'd never occurred to him like that but when we started drawing his attention to you, you did the rest. He started checking you out more whenever we saw you in passing and dressing nicer if he knew he might bump into you. Then the day after you shot your reel he came back to the house so smiley". "Really?" you asked and the guys nodded "he watched your reel like 50 times" Soobin chuckled and you blushed. "oh my god this is so great...and terrifying".

"Terrifying?" Yeonjun asked and you nodded "now I know he's into me that puts so much more pressure on me! Before I figured I had no chance so what was there to lose but now I know he likes me and is watching me when we're together...oh god why did I wear this dress it is in no way Taehyun looking at me level". The guys were in the middle of telling you that was stupid when Taehyun walked right through the front door.

You all froze and he looked at you "what's going on?". "Nothing!" Yeonjun said "we were just...". "Okay honestly?" Soobin asked standing up "we'll tell you". "Soobin" Beomgyu hissed but the eldest held up his hands "no we can't lie to him it's not right...we were ordering the food and were going to use your free side for ourselves. We're really sorry". "You sneaks!" Taehyun called laughing "order me the chicken wings please" and he disappeared into his room while you all high-fived Soobin.

You could excuse the younger member's matchmaking to an extent but for the eldest two members, there were no excuses.

Soobin and Yeonjun figured now you knew Taehyun liked you that things could progress a little and why pass up a perfect opportunity like tonight? They texted Huening Kai and Beomgyu to let them know about the plan and then got to work.

At first, you didn't suspect anything was going on. Sure the guys all left a seat beside you for Taehyun and were doing their usual thing of drawing his attention to you with compliments etc. Then they started doing things that were just plain obvious.

When you all moved through to the living room to watch films Yeonjun practically dragged Beomgyu off the small sofa so you could sit there. He didn't even try and hide what he was doing, he just smiled at you and said "Y/n why don't you sit here?". He didn't even try and come up with an excuse and not wanting to embarrass Taehyun, you took the seat.

Then when they were distributing popcorn Yeonjun claimed they'd suddenly lost some bowls" so there weren't enough for everyone to have their own bowl. "You and Y/n don't mind sharing one right?" Yeonjun asked Taehyun who looked at you with his big eyes. "Erm she can just have it, it's okay". You shook your head "no that's not fair, I'm happy sharing if you are? Or here's an idea..." you took a crisp packet and filled that up with popcorn so you and Taehyun could both have your own. "Problem solved" you said smiling at Taehyun and then winked at Yeonjun. Yeonjun just smiled back mischievously and you knew the night wasn't over yet.

You were about 20 minutes into the film when the main character walked up to a group of women and told one of them he thought she was beautiful. "I never know if things like that are flattering or creepy" Huening Kai said and Beomgyu nodded "yeah is it too full on?". "Hmm I don't know I think it can be nice, no messing around and confidence is hot" Yeonjun argued. "But how much is too much?" Huening Kai asked and Soobin smiled. "What do you think Y/n?". You paused "oh I'm not sure" you said but Soobin wasn't giving up that easily. "Aww come on imagine it! So you're out with some friends and let's say...Taehyun here comes up to you and tells you he thinks you're really beautiful and asks for your number. Hot or not?". Soobin was a lot more devious than you'd ever realised and you almost smiled at the innocent look on his face. He'd totally planned this and now you didn't know what to say! You couldn't help but glance at Taehyun and saw him watching you like a hawk. He smiled when you looked at him but his eyes were so focused and there was something there in them that made your stomach flutter. It was then you realised the guys were right, Taehyun wanted you.

You took a breath and replied "I'd think it's hot but honestly, I can't imagine any girl not finding Taehyun hot so I don't think he's a fair test subject". Everyone in the room paused and then Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu and Huening Kai all smiled to see you flirt with Taheyun. The poor boy on the other hand was pink and looked very flustered but was also smiling widely. "I...that's not true but coming from someone like you that's a huge compliment" Taehyun replied. You smiled "you're very welcome" and could feel the excitement in the room shoot up.

It was quite easy to flirt with Taehyun after you made the initial move and Taehyun himself didn't waste any time flirting back. You'd never seen the TxT members look prouder and when Yeonjun genuinely looked like he might cry seeing you and Taehyun sat close together watching something on his phone you had to take a break. You went to the kitchen to "get another drink" and shot Yeonjun a look telling him to follow you. So when seconds later you heard someone behind you, you assumed it was him. "Why were you doing that? It was so forced and cringe! You made me so uncomfortable". "Oh I'm sorry...I'll stop" you heard someone say and spun around to see Taehyun.

He looked shocked and upset and went to head away when you rushed after him "wait Taehyun I didn't know that was you, I thought you were Yeonjun!". "It's fine don't worry" Taehyun said but you grabbed his arm "no Taehyun I really wasn't unhappy with what you were doing in there, I actually liked it". "Then why are you mad at Yeonjun?". You laughed "couldn't you tell how much he and Soobin were pushing us together?". "Honestly no, I was a little preoccupied the second you sat next to me" he admitted. "That's so sweet! They've all been doing it, Beomgyu makes comments when you're around, Kai brought us together for the reel and Yeonjun and Soobin were creating reasons for us to interact. Like I said I wasn't upset at having an excuse to interact with you, more I thought we had it covered". "Wait how long has this been going on?" Taehyun asked "them teasing you?". You frowned "about 2 months or so, I let slip I had a crush on you and the rest was history". "So you do like me?" Taehyun asked and you nodded "yes, I think you're very impressive, hot and cool...do you need more?" you asked and then jumped because you'd inadvertently walked into the door behind you. Taehyun had slowly been coming closer to you and you'd backed up but now there was nowhere else to go. "Are you okay?" Taehyun asked reaching for your head and you nodded "I'm fine". He smiled "good and I don't need anything more just to tell you I like you too". "Really?" you asked excitedly and Taehyun smiled "yes, I've never met a girl whose simultaneously so sweet and kind and also so powerful, strong and fierce. When we did that reel I went crazy seeing the muscles in your back and you get more interesting every time we speak". Taehyun still hadn't moved away from you and your heart was hammering in your chest. When you didn't think you could take it any more you sighed "please for the love of god do something about it!" and Taehyun nodded "okay" and kissed you.

It was a good first kiss. Taehyun wasn't too full on because it was your first kiss but he was still intoxicating and everything from how soft his lips were to how nice his hair smelled froze you crazy. Your hands naturally settled against him and you loved being able to press your hands up against him. Taehyun took the lead but you fought him a little and he loved that. When he pulled away you were both smiling.

"Wow after 2 months of teasing that really hit the spot" you said and Taehyun smiled "really?". "Yeah" you said still short of breath and Taehyun nodded "give me a second" and marched back into the living room. You followed him surprised and missed the first part of his sentence but heard "you've been teasing her for her crush for over 2 months. I'm in a good mood tonight but if you ever treat her like that again I will cover you all in bruises. Are we clear?". Silence followed and then all the guys rushed to assure Taehyun they'd never tease you again. Taehyun then realised you were here and smiled at you "now would you like to finish the video or go something together darling?". You blushed as he said darling and could think of nothing better than going somewhere where you had his attention solely on you. So you held out your hand saying "together" and Taehyun nodded "let's go" and marched you out the front door.

You got in his car and drove with the windows down and music blaring. You had no idea where you were going and neither did he. Neither of you cared because all you could think about was Taehyun's hand on your leg and all he could think about was your hand on top of his. You decided you'd take being teased for 2 months if this was the result and sat back in your seat, ready to enjoy the ride.

[izzyy-stuff]

THE NEXT STEP - HUENING KAI

bf!huening x fem!reader

in which even though you've been dating your boyfriend for months now, neither one of you could find enough courage to take it to the next level, until one night, when he shows up at your door with food to take your mind away from studying once again.

wc 3.1k

warnings yunjin of le ssera is mentioned once, established relationship, protected sex, nipple play, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), squirting, pet names

izzy speaks... I genuinely don't like this much as my other smuts but whatever, I guess. I still hope you'll enjoy reading

“You guys are annoying,” Kai proclaimed, rolling his eyes as he picked up his phone, wallet, and keys to leave the dorms. “I am visiting my girl. And staying overnight, probably. I am too tired of you guys.” 

Kai sighed when the only response he got was more of Beomgyu's and Soobin's yelling while they played Mario cards on the TV. “This is exactly why I don't want to be here."

"We get it, don't worry," Taehyun looked up from his phone.

“Wait, what do you mean you are staying overnight with her?” Yeonjun questioned immediately, looking up from his phone and leaving his girlfriend on read for a second. 

Kai rolled his eyes again. “That I am sleeping at hers? What? Do you have a problem with that?” 

“Of course I do,” Yeonjun nodded. “I don’t think you’re responsible enough for that yet.” 

“Yeonjun,” Taehyun spoke up, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” 

“To be honest, I think he is more responsible than you, and we still let you sleep with your girlfriend,” Beomgyu commented, his fingers quickly moving over the console so he wouldn't lose. 

Yeonjun was already opening his mouth to argue, but Beomgyu stopped him before he could say anything. “Don’t try to lie, we all know you’re fucking her. I have heard you,” he frowned, only leaving Yeonjun embarrassed. “He is at least doing it with none of us around. You don’t care.” 

“Okay, I did not need to hear that,” Soobin sighed, understanding why Kai would want to leave the dorm. The boys were sometimes too much to handle. 

“I am not going there to sleep with her,” Kai rolled his eyes. “If you guys are this horny, call your partners and stop caring about my love life.” 

“Don’t say that. It will be even noisier if they all come,” Taehyun whined. 

“Well, good thing I am leaving,” Kai chuckled. “I’ll see you guys at practice tomorrow. Don’t text or call until then,” he waved them goodbye before quickly rushing out of the dorms, wanting to leave as soon as possible. 

You, on the other hand, were currently in your room, working on your school stuff, having no idea your boyfriend was coming. You sighed as you finished your presentation, leaning back in your chair to rest for a minute. You looked around the room, trying to remember everything you still had to do today. 

You noticed your phone buzzing and reached for it, opening the texts between you and your boyfriend. 

kaikai 💛  babyyy kaikai 💛  are you hungry?? kaikai 💛 (≧▽≦q)  [you] You’re being cute again  >  <   [you] I am a little hungry... [you] I can’t go out, though. [you] I am working on my school stuff now :( kaikai 💛 I'll bring you some food then kaikai 💛 You’ve been working a lot  [you] I love you <3 kaikai 💛 I know you do kaikai 💛 who wouldn't kaikai 💛 I love you too though ❤

You smiled at your phone, forgetting you had stuff to do when you talked to him. That was just what he did with you. Kai always made you think about different things. Sometimes, he just made you forget about things, keeping your mind in the moment with him and nowhere else. Sometimes, he just made you think about how adorable he was.

And sometimes, at times you would never admit to him, Kai made you ponder about the nastiest things possible. 

As cute as he was, he knew exactly how to tease you. He always said the right things that turned you on, but he had no idea what he was doing because you refused to tell him.

It wasn’t like you didn't want more with him, but you were scared. Even though you knew your worries were unnecessary, your mind simply couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if you came to him, admitting that you needed him. What if he wouldn’t want it? What if, for any reason, he would think you were weird? You weren't risking your relationship with him because of that unless he showed any signs of wanting to do more, too. 

You shook your head, getting the thoughts out of your head as you reached for your textbook, taking a deep breath before reading through the whole page. 

You turned to another page, slowly getting tired, when your doorbell rang. You smiled, knowing it must have been your boyfriend. You told all your friends not to bother you today because you were busy, so unless your landlord had some problems again, it must have been him. 

You quickly stood up and rushed to the front door, glad you finally had a reason to stop studying. You opened the door with the biggest smile as you noticed the older boy in front of you, a bag with food in one of his hands and a bottle of your favorite soda in his other hand. 

“Hey, love,” Kai smiled, walking inside your apartment. You adored it when he called you love, and he knew that. No wonder he has been using it so much lately. 

“Hi,” you greeted him, watching him walk to your kitchen and place the food and drink on your kitchen island. “What did you bring?” You wondered, walking to him. 

“Chicken,” he responded. “Yunjin mentioned before that you weren't eating much, so I am making sure you’ll eat everything today,” he proclaimed, already taking the chicken out of the bag. 

You came closer to him, hugging him from behind, which made him leave the food and turn around, hugging you back. “Cutie,” he chuckled, caressing your back. “Says you,” You mumbled. “You’re just amazing, Kai,” you breathed out. “Thank you.” 

“Always,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. 

The two of you ate everything Kai brought and ended up in your bedroom, your boyfriend lying on your bed, watching you as you were studying your textbooks again. 

“You are pretty like this,” he commented, lying on his side. You looked amazing no matter what in his eyes, but there was something about this moment. There was something about how you focused on the book and about your hair falling in front of your eyes, making you flustered every time you tried to tug it behind your ear.

“What?” You looked up from your book at him. He smiled, just simply watching you, which made you chuckle. “What? Is there something on my face?” 

“Yeah, a cute smile,” he responded, making you blush. “It suits you, your hair like this,” he commented. “And studying too, you look pretty while focusing.” 

Your cheeks were looking like a tomato by now. You were supposed to be studying, but Kai was taking your mind away from that once again. “Well, you look adorable lying on my bed,” you confessed. “Like I want to kiss you, cute.” 

“Then come and kiss me,” he grinned mischievously. You bit on your bottom lip, slowly standing up from your chair and walking over to him. 

You kneeled on the bed, commanding him to sit up, which he happily did. You shook your head with a chuckle, cupping his cheek as you pulled him closer so you could kiss him. 

He smiled into the kiss, putting the messy strands of your hair behind your ear, pulling you even closer to himself. Instinctively, you moved even closer to him, sitting on his lap. Huening carefully slid his hands under your oversized shirt, his fingers touching the skin on your waist. 

“I love you,” he whispered, placing his forehead against yours, his breath landing on your lips. You smiled, a genuine smile full of love. “I could kiss you all day long.” 

“Let’s see if that’s true,” you giggled, slightly pushing his chest down so he would fall on his back. He laughed, watching you as you leaned down to him, pushing your lips against his. He whimpered when he felt you shift on his lower body, making your eyes widen. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurted out immediately, embarrassed. He didn’t want you to know, but your moves turned him on. So much that he wasn’t sure how long it would take him to get a boner with you on top of him. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.” 

Fuck. This wasn’t good at all, you thought. Hearing your boyfriend make these sounds under you made you feel things. And imagine stuff. You bit your bottom lip, trying to get the thought of his cock inside you out of your mind. But it was too late already, and the image of him under you, as you bounced on his dick, was all over your mind, making you wet. 

The taller boy noticed the look in your eyes. You looked even more turned on than he was. It was hard holding back when you were right on top of him, looking like you wanted him as much as he wanted you. He had told his friends he wasn’t going to fuck you tonight, but his whole body hoped for something else. 

“Kai...” You whispered carefully, looking right into his eyes. “Do you...want to?” You hesitated for a second. Unable to breathe as you waited for his answer. You were too nervous. 

“Do you want to?” He asked, his puppy eyes looking right into yours. Oh god, you thought, wanting to kiss him again. 

You were hesitant again but nodded, slightly moving your lower body, making his eyes widen. His cock was getting hard already only because of your small moves. It was impossible to resist you. Especially when you were looking at him like that. 

“You’re making it hard for me, love,” he mumbled, quickly pulling you back to himself to kiss you. “And my dick, too. You’re making me hard,” he informed you. That information, however, wasn’t new to you. You could feel his cock getting bigger under you, and it was only making you hornier. 

Your hands wandered under his shirt, your fingers slowly getting to know every inch of his stomach and chest. “Love,” you moaned quietly. “I need you,” you whispered, making his mind go completely blank. There was nothing else other than you on his mind right now. If you were to ask him anything, he wouldn’t be able to answer. 

“Oh god,” he breathed out, his fingers getting to the bottom of your shirt. “Do you mind?” You shook your head immediately, and before you could even realize that it was happening, he was taking your shirt down, revealing your white bra. He bit his bottom lip, already thinking about taking your bra off, too. 

You felt your cheeks getting hotter as you felt his gaze on your body, only getting more turned on. You were going to die if he didn’t touch you soon. You moved forward and back again with your ass, rubbing your pussy on his dick through your clothes. “Fuck,” he whimpered, sitting up properly so he could be closer to you. Your bodies were touching, the only thing keeping you apart being the clothes you were still wearing. 

“You should take this down, too,” you commented, your eyes staring at his completely hidden body. “Why don’t you take it down yourself, princess?” He smiled, watching your already flushed cheeks turn even redder. 

You didn’t say anything to it and instead just took the shirt down for him. Your sight fell on his naked body immediately, and suddenly, you couldn’t even blame him for staring seconds ago. “Are you sure you want to do it?” You questioned, hesitating again. It still felt unreal.  

“Do you have to ask?” He chuckled, carefully cupping your face, kissing you as his hands wandered on your back until they reached the bra fastening. He slowly moved his mouth from your lips to your neck, making you whine immediately. “Kai,” you moaned from the pressure on your neck. He smirked, leaving a few hickeys. “I am going to take care of you soon. Don’t worry,” he assured you. 

This wasn’t good at all. Kai hasn’t even touched you down there, and you already felt like cumming just because of his words. 

Your panties were soaking wet already, and his mouth on your boob wasn’t helping it at all. He moved his attention to your right nipple right after taking down your bra while his hand made sure your other boob wasn’t left out. The sounds you were trying to hold back as he sucked on your nipple were heaven for him, making his pants tighter. 

“Baby,” you whined again, making him look up for a second. “Please, I am going to die.” He chuckled, pulling away from your chest, making you lay down on the bed as he quickly took down his pants and boxers - the two pieces were already so tight on him it was killing him, too. 

He took down your jeans, too, leaving you only in your panties, which were visibly wet. Kai smirked when he saw you, his eyes fixated on your cunt. Even though his hard cock was begging for some attention, the thought of his head between your thighs seemed better to him.

You glanced at him, making sure your mind remembered every inch of his naked body. The way his hard cock slapped on his lower tummy when he took down his boxers, his naked torso, the way his fingers ran throught his hair as he looked at you with hunger in his eyes, you were sure to remember it all.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you closer to himself before he took down your panties, too. “If you are not okay with anything, just tell me immediately, yeah?” You nodded to him, “Just please, do something already.” 

Good thing he took down his pants because his dick was already trembling, wanting to slide inside your wet pussy. He watched you as he carefully slid the first finger inside you, making you moan out immediately. He added another finger, still not taking his eyes off you as he slowly trusted in and out of you, leaning closer to you to kiss you again. You wrapped your hands behind his neck, pulling him closer as you let out quiet moans against his lips.

The feeling of your pussy tightly squeezing his fingers was incredible, already making him think about how his dick would feel inside of you. He pulled out his fingers, making you whimper for more. He licked his lips, kissing you once more before he moved his head down to your legs, kissing your inner thighs before he opened your legs properly. His kisses moved closer and closer to your cunt before he finally reached his destination, placing a kiss on your clit before he began to suck on it.

Your legs moved on your own, trying to close themselves more as you were getting closer to your orgasm. You didn’t want him to stop, so when he grabbed your thighs, holding you close to himself and making sure your legs were open enough, you were grateful to him. There was no way you wouldn’t try to pull away if he didn’t do so. 

You cried out his name as you reached your high, squirting over his face, starting to feel embarrassed for it. He finally let go of your legs, seeing how much they were shaking. He smirked, happy with himself, as he licked your wetness once more before crawling on top of you, hovering over you. Your face was getting redder again as you broke your eye contact. However, he wasn’t letting you run away so easily. He kissed your jaw. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, turning your head to face him again. “I just- that was so good, Kai,” you breathed out, making him smile again. “Do you think you can take my cock now too? It’s fine if not,” he assured you immediately. “I can just take care of it myself.” 

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I am...I am fine,” you answered confidently. “I want you inside of me.” 

Huening was screaming inside his head, already getting obsessed with that sentence. He already knew he needed to hear you beg for him like that again in the future.

“I have condoms in the drawer next to my bed,” you proclaimed, making his eyes widen. He had no idea you were this prepared. When he thought about it, though, you were dating for a long time already. He just didn’t know you wanted him as much as he wanted you. 

Only a few seconds later, he was putting the condom on his cock, watching you lying down in front of him, your legs wide open again, waiting for him. The sight was unforgettable, and he had made sure his mind would remember it clearly. He moved closer to you, waiting for your nod before he slowly slid his tip into your cunt. 

He didn’t thrust right away. Instead, he waited for you to get used to him first. When you nodded again, he started thrusting into you, at first slowly, making sure you were okay with it before he started going faster, in a pace that suited his need. 

You started moaning again, putting a hand in front of your mouth so you wouldn't be so loud. That, however, wasn't to Kai's liking. He pulled out of you completely, making you whine. "I want to hear you, love," he proclaimed. "Or I am just going to leave you like this." 

You moaned again. This time, in disagreement. You let your hand fall back to your body, grabbing onto your bed sheets as you felt his cock at your entrance. He smirked, "Good girl." 

Moans filled the room again. Some of them were from you, your legs shaking thanks to him, and some were from your boyfriend, who was trying his best to last as long as possible. With your pussy tightly wrapped around his cock it was way more difficult than he thought it would. 

Eventually, he gave up, letting himself cum when you clenched around him even more. "Fuck," he breathed out, pulling out of you. He was breathing heavily, and so were you.

He laid down next to you, his hand resting on his belly as he turned his head to face you. "You did great, love. So great."

"You did well, baby," you chuckled. "I love you so much," you added, kissing him once more. 

"I love you too," he smiled into the kiss, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulled you closer. 

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman ✶⋆

[gardnhee]

Who in TXT do you think is the most likely to have a “mommy” kink?

100 bash here ! (masterlist coming soon…)

warnings(s). handjob/blowjob, oral (f), nipple/boob play (f), fingering (f), unprotected sex, lots of begging > _ <, reader uses “baby” a lot, taehyun pretty much worships yn, neck biting (if you squint)

note. my opinions may not correlate with yours and that’s okay, just enjoy <3

pairing(s). ot5 x afab!reader

MOST

HUENINGKAI - It takes him a while to bring it up (he’s like super nervous 😭) but when you agreed to fulfill his kink, his breath hitched, cock twitching in anticipation :( poor baby is so down bad for you !!

“Oh, fuck..” he groans against your heat, eyes shut in concentration as his tongue laps at your juices. Your skin, so fair and smooth under his palm, drives him mad. Kai moans, lips suckling on your clit, each suck better than the last.

“What’s my name, baby?” You grit, thighs shaking under his relentless hold. “Mommy- ah…” his voice is but a faint murmur on your folds, as faint as the pulsing of your cunt. You raise your head, eyes landing on his lower body. You whimper, “fuck, kai. Are you humping the bed?” Your boyfriend nods with a muffled ‘mff..’

He detaches, gasping for air, earlobes flushed pink. “I…” Kai starts, and you gulp. “I love you - ah… hah - mommy!” Tears clump to his lashes, “I love you so much!”

“I love you too, pretty. Oh, god- you make me feel so- ngh!” You ride his face, cunt twitching as you fall over the edge with a loud moan.

Kai whimpers, hips stuttering against the sheets. He lays his cheek on your inner thigh, huffing, “I came in my pants…” you caress his hair, dark strands tangling around your fingers, “can I help you with that?” His head snaps up at your offer, Adam’s apple poking your skin.

“Yes, please.”

⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

CHOI SOOBIN - dudeeee this man definitely has a mommy kink. Add boobs into the mix? Oh, he’s sold.

“Soobin…” You bite your lip, fingers running through his matted hair. Your back is flat against the headboard, sweat trickling down your spine and seeping into the fabric of your sheets.

“Yes?” He moans, glasses resting at the tip of his nose. His tongue plays with your right nipple, rolling the left one between his fingers. “What’s my name?” You smirk as his brows knit together, slightly wincing as he nips at the hard peak.

“Mommy.” Soobin’s words sink into your oozy skin, sending vibrations through your body. “Say it - fu..uuck - again.” The skin around your shoulders pebble, a ticklish sensation residing below the first layer, shooting spurts of electricity to the tips of your fingers.

“Yes, mommy…” your boyfriend licks a thick stripe up the valley of your breasts, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss. “As many times as you want.” He bites your bottom lip between his teeth, groaning at the sensation of your hot mouth.

“You’re so good to me.” You comment, shuddering at his ghost-like touch.

“Always, mommy.” Soobin sighs, leaving kisses on the mound of your breasts. “You’re my everything.” He smiles and your heart flutters, watching as his head dips back into your boobs.

⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

CHOI BEOMGYU - thinks it’s embarrassing as fuck at first, but once he tries it, he regrets not doing it sooner.

“Aw, my poor baby…” you coo, thumb swiping over his leaking tip, “so needy already?” You taunt, fingers tracing over his toned chest, muscles twitching under your cold touch. His dick rests nicely against your abdomen, caged between your stomach and palms.

“P-please…please…” Beomgyu heaves as if he’s been standing in the heat for hours. You roll your lip, “please what?” He groans in frustration, “please, mommy - hah! - please let me cum!” The words roll off his tongue in such a delicious way.

“Beomgyu, I asked you to hold it just a little longer, can’t you do that?” He’s frantic, shaking his head with tears rolling down his cheeks. “No! No, I can’t! Not anymore!” He grunts, “please just let me c-cum…?”

“I can’t say no when you ask so nicely….” you mutter, going back to pumping his eager cock. Beomgyu’s chest rises and falls, the low rumble of his breathing going straight to your core. “You deserve more.” You hum, sliding off his lap and onto your knees.

“can you hold my hair for me, pretty boy?”

Beomgyu nods, leaning in to gently pull your hair in a messy ponytail, then he sighs, tilting his hips forward to give you space, “you look beautiful, mommy…” you can’t help the smile that creeps on your face.

“Thank you, baby.”

His cheeks heat up, thighs jerking when your hot breath fans over his tip. You slowly sink, accommodating for his huge size. Beomgyu moans, seeing stars as hot-white pleasure surges through him, “j-jesus… oh..” he marvels at the warmth of your mouth, wincing as your throat greedily constricts around his tip.

You gag, popping him out of your mouth to lick at the shaft, then dipping back down to take him fully. His breath hitches, legs shaking as he whimpers, “god… so fucking close!” You hum, ripping a wince from his chest. “Mommy - shit! - ‘m g’na!-“ your boyfriend bites his free hand, eyes rolling back as his head lolls. His once tender grip on your hair tightens, quivering from the intensity of his orgasm.

You tap him against your tongue, swallowing his cum as he groans, “thank you, mommy…” Beomgyu’s voice is hoarse, letting your hair fall on your shoulders as he holds your chin, leaning down to kiss you passionately.

⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

CHOI YEONJUN - this man is a freak. He’s willing to try whatever, whenever - all about discovering new things if it mean’s it’ll add to your pleasure. Furthermore, he enjoys having a diverse sex life. SOOO when you asked him to call you mommy, he did so, no hesitation.

“You like this, mommy? Hm?” His fingers are unrelenting, “such a pretty pussy you have.” You gawk, jaw slack as you’ve - evidently - been fucked dumb, unable to form a coherent sentence. It’s unfathomable how easily you turn to mush in Yeonjun’s hands. And it’s absolutely, utterly unfathomable how he can be so good without even trying.

Your thighs tremble, the heels of your palms pressed against your eyes as drool starts pooling at the corner of your lip, “ha..yeonju- ah!” Your toes curl, stomach tensing under your boyfriend’s intense stare.

“Do you feel good?”

You nod, “y-yes! F-feels so good-!” Yeonjun chuckles, pecking your nose, giving you a warm smile, “you’re doing good.” You find purchase in his bicep, clawing as your back arches off the couch. “S-so close…” you croak, arousal dripping down Yeonjun’s knuckles.

“Making such a mess, so hot.” His words have you teetering around the edge, hips bucking into his fingers for more. “So greedy…should I stop?” You gulp, shaking your head in a frenzy as his thumb draws tight circles on your clit.

“N-no! Please let me cum, Yeonjun, please-!”

He groans, tongue darting out to lick his lips, “fuck…yes, okay.” Yeonjun’s pace quickens as your cunt squelches, fluttering around his digits. You scream, a wave of pleasure slamming into you as you melt into the couch. Your head droops, whimpering when he licks the bud one last time.

“I want you to cum on my cock, too, mommy.”

⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

KANG TAEHYUN - never actually gave it much thought before you introduced it to him. He’s a lot like Yeonjun, whatever contributes to your pleasure, he’s more than glad to indulge. (No like… this man is head over heels for you. He’ll actually do anything if asked by you and you only.) I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s a kink of his, but for you, it COULD be!

“Yeah, just like that…” he grunts, lip caught between his teeth, “I love when mommy rides my cock…” you clench, eliciting a guttural moan from the man below you. “Don’t you like it too, princess?” You nod, fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving crescent moons in their wake.

“I … I love it … mff!”

His brows knit, focusing on the delicious grip your pussy has on him. It’s blissful, having you on top of him like this, getting riled up when he calls you his mommy. His abs twitch, tensing as he’s oh-so close to his orgasm. But he isn’t going to cum before you, he refuses. Your pleasure is a treasure to him, sacred, he must put you first.

His hands ease the bruising grip on your hips, leaving behind a series of red marks - he’s sure they’ll bruise tomorrow, and he feels bad. But how can he stop himself when you just feel so fucking good?

“Are you close, mommy?” Taehyun croaks, the knot in his groin tightening by the second. “Yes! Yes! I’m close. S-so close- gah!” You passionately roll your hips, smashing your lips into his in a hungry kiss. It’s sloppy, a clashing of teeth and tongues, fingers tangled in eachother’s hair.

You just want him impossibly closer, to feel every ridge of his muscles, the way his chest heaves and his breath fans your arm. “Hug me… hug me, please!” You paw at his shoulders, signaling him to come closer, and he does, without even thinking twice. Because why would he? You ask, he shall deliver. It’s your world and he’s just living in it.

Taehyun brings you close, so close he can feel your heartbeat against his own. “I’m cumming-!” You cry into his neck, sinking your teeth into the flesh as a weak sting rises through his veins, sending him over the edge. He winces, cradling your head in his caring hand, other arm holding you in place by the waist. This might’ve - no, this is the best orgasm he’s had thus far. He’s stunned, heels pressing into the mattress in order to ground himself.

“God-“ he sighs, pulling out with a growl, marveling at the way his cum oozes out of your sopping pussy, spilling over the sheets. “You did well for me, baby.” His words fall on perceptive ears, though your attention is not entirely on him, but on the angry-red mark on his neck. “I drew blood, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t you worry about it.” His eyes soften at your wary ones, heart shattering at the tears brimming your eyes, wiping them away with his thumb. “hey, it’s okay.” Taehyun’s reassurance makes you smile, “let’s get cleaned up and cuddle, alright? I’ll get the snacks.” You nod, hopping off the bed with that gleam he adores.

LEAST

got a lil carried away w this one … > o < !

taglist. @theresawtf @jjklvr9 @binniebakery @beomies-world @hyukaaa @ninoshome1 @babymochibeargyu @lunathewritingcat @duckywuckypookiepie @naoristerling @oddracha @soohashits @junimoa03 @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @beomtasticc @beomiracles @itaehynz

© GARDNHEE, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms

[pjsfvs]

Friends? I Think Not - Choi Yeonjun

PAIRING: bff!yeonjun x female reader

SYNOPSIS: in which yeonjun, your best friend, learns about your rather unsatisfactory sex life. who better than him to show you how it's properly done?

GENRE: smut

AUTH. NOTE: my account is undergoing a huge switch so a lot of things will be changing :33

The room was too hot for your liking.

It was like this every time you came over to Yeonjun’s. You heard somewhere that cats were often fonder of hot temperature than cold. Maybe he really was a cat inside. You could bet your life insurance on that.

You let your eyes wander inside his comfy room. It felt more like home than your room did, somehow. As extra as it is, he hung dim lights from his room walls, insisting “it adds up to the mood”. His room definitely wasn’t that messy for a guy who lives alone, to your surprise. Never too bright, but not too dark either. Chaotic neutral. It fit his personality well.

“You come over pretty much every day, and yet you still stare around quietly as if it's your first time here. Is my room that much of an aesthetic to you?” Yeonjun laughed from beside you. One hand under his head, he found himself unable to divert his attention from you. Not that you minded, of course. You took the eye contact like a challenge, meeting his golden amber eyes with equal amount of... hidden intent. He looked at you as if he wanted something so desperately- like he was barely holding himself back. Soft gaze observing the entirety of your face, he quietly tried to burn every small detail to the back of his mind. As you would do the exact same.

If someone walked in on you two, it would look almost like you two were dating.

“It fits your vibe somehow.” You quietly muttered to answer his last question. As your friend let out a soft giggle at how your eyes were shining in the LED lights, he could’ve sworn he saw the entire milky way through them. To him, moments like these really mattered. Quiet, peaceful, just you two. Like nothing else existed in the wide universe.

Just you two.

“Were you talking about something you wanted to do?” You suddenly remembered about him talking about a game he wanted to play with you. Were Kai’s habits rubbing off on him? You always knew Yeonjun also liked to play games, but he never really asked you to humor him whilst shuffling around with the console.

“Oh yeah, but it’s pretty lame. I just brought it up because we had nothing to do today.”

“But we usually have nothing to do anyways.”

“Ouch, babe.” It took all your muscles tensing to stop yourself from reacting to that nickname. He always knew how to push your buttons to get you flustered. You weren’t going to give in like how he wanted. He could only let out another laugh at your expression.

“What did you have in mind, then?” Yeonjun awkwardly scratched the back of his neck while averting your gaze at your question.

You narrowed your eyes at his reaction. So, he said he wanted to it because “we had nothing to do”, but inside, he really wanted to try this game he was talking about.

“21 questions”. You couldn’t help but groan and roll your eyes.

“Come on Yeonjun, we’re not middle schoolers anymore. You could just ask anything you want to know, and I wouldn’t think anything of it.” Letting out a defeated laugh, Yeonjun directed his honey hazel eyes at you. You were not entirely sure what he was getting at, but his ability to have you remembering all the nights you dreamed of those eyes was something else.

Moments like these reminded you about how you dreamt about him so vividly often times whilst deep in slumber. The unavoidable eye contact briefly exchanged giggles, 4am conversations, slight brushes of Yeonjun's hand on yours- it spoke volumes. Even if both of you practically knew you had feelings for each other, neither had done anything to seal in the deal. For you, it was the commitment. You weren’t sure you would be able to handle him fully. He had been with you for better and for worse, in sickness and health, in ups and downs. Choi Yeonjun was with you through everything. He was someone you just couldn't afford to lose. He was precious, more valuable than anything you ever had in your life. That’s exactly why you were hesitant. If you two broke up, it would cost you too much. You were afraid. Afraid of losing him over something like... love.

If you had to ignore this feeling in your chest to have Yeonjun for your whole life, you would. You would choose him for eternity.

“Is there a specific question you have for me then?” You were forced back to consciousness when Yeonjun suddenly spoke. Momentarily, you were taken aback.

“Your body count?” You narrowed your eyes and voiced out the question that you’ve been curious forever. As far as you knew, he had two serious relationships, and a few on-and-off flings here and there. Judging people by their body count was dumb, and you were aware of that. But it did catch your interest.

“Six.” His piercing gaze never left yours while shifting on his bed to face your side. Fair.

“It’s my turn right? I’ll ask your body count too, then.” See? Any friend would be curious about these. Especially horny young adults like him and you.

“Four.” You said with a long sigh. You knew he would never judge you for it or anything, but it was still nerve wracking. Yeonjun’s expression didn’t change one bit. Instead, he still kept a close look on your face. Even without him voicing it out loud, you knew he was worried if you were insecure about it in any way.

“No, I’m okay Yeonjun. I know you wouldn’t think weirdly of me.” Letting out a laugh to lighten up the mood, you tugged your hair behind your ear.

“Hey, you continue with another question. You should lead these kinds of games, not me.” From the way he immediately lifted his eyebrow, you knew he didn’t mind controlling where this game went. Again, with the unbelievably attractive confidence of his.

“I see you as a 100% bottom, and I know I am right.” You furrowed your eyebrows at how overly sure he sounded.

“Do you have any ounce of dominance in you? Can you top anyone at all?” Damn, were you supposed to answer honestly, or act tough?

“…I’m not sure. I don’t think I do.” He let out a low whistle and a domineering smirk at your statement. Every single thing he does seemed extra attractive today, why was that? You could bet your monthly wage that it was on purpose to get you riled up.

You could almost physically feel Yeonjun’s eyes roaming through your entire body. It was hard to ignore when he was making the atmosphere thick to the point you could practically cut it with a knife. You two weren’t touching each other in any way, but the way he was staring at you felt like he was intentionally trying to get you in the mood. The mood.

“Next question, baby?” You felt your face getting hotter by minute. You couldn’t help it when he practically purred your favorite pet name with that face.

“Could you stop that-”

“But your reaction is too good to pass on.”

“How good would you say you are in bed? You can be honest you know; I wouldn’t judge~” You let out a choked laugh and covered your mouth to prevent laughing in his face. Yeonjun chuckled at your question too, but still kept the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Well, you could see that for yourself, can’t you?” Him licking his lip slightly didn’t go unnoticed. These small sly movements never went unnoticed with both of you. Taking on the silent invitation, you lightly pulled at your shirt collar. He tried hard but gave into temptation in the end. By the way his eyes stayed a few seconds more than appropriate, you knew it was revealing your collar bone right now. Or maybe a bit more.

“I’m not sure, no man has ever satisfied me in bed before you know.” Yeonjun's eyes snapped at the unexpected statement. You could practically hear his inner voice. Four bodies and-

“You mean you’ve never came in bed? Like, never?”

“Never.” Before you could process what was happening, you felt a shift in Yeonjun’s mood. By the time you returned your eyes to his, the only thing you could see in those beautiful hazel eyes were desire. Burning fiery desire, and pure sinful lust. Just with his hot intense gaze, you unknowingly rubbed your thighs together.

“Want me to change that?” Despite his explicit suggestion, he gently put a hand on yours. You knew that if you said no here, he would not pursue anything. He would drop it in a second and continue normally like how you two did until now. Never did you even think Yeonjun would look at you this way. With such tempting desire written all over his eyes.

You knew you shouldn’t give into the voices in your head. If you did this, it would be harder to ignore your feelings. Those feelings that are overwhelming inside of you, it would get harder and harder to manage. You should refuse.

But your body acted otherwise.

“Maybe you should.”

As soon as you muttered the words Yeonjun had been longing to hear, his persona changed in a split second. He flipped you over easily and got on top. As he hungrily looked down at you, he felt a sense of pride he never felt before. He was going to own you. Him. Not anyone else.

He wanted you. You, every bit of you.

Never once in your life have you felt such desire before. Never did you ever want someone as bad as you wanted Yeonjun right now. You hated that it had to be him, but it didn’t matter. Not when you had your hand in his hair, kissing until you two were out of breath. His hands never stopped roaming around your entire body like you were already his property.

“Baby… You have to promise to tell me if you don’t like anything that I do. Anything. Is that understood?” Yeonjun’s honey eyes found yours again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. You nodded and pulled him in again.

As soon as your lips met, a fire ignited. It was like you two were waiting for this very moment for forever. You were finally able to inhale the masculine scent of Yeonjun. Like a mixture of caramel, rosewood and musk, his smell was intoxicating. You couldn’t get enough of him.

You were still unsatisfied by the time he broke away from the kiss. With a low chuckle, he took another look at your current state. Cheeks burning, eyes clouded with nothing but pure desire. Your body practically waiting to be ravaged by him, there was nothing sexier than that in the world.

“Yeonjun…” You let out a quiet whimper when he dived in for another kiss. Slowly, his lips slid all the way to your neck. His hot breath fanning over your skin, you inhaled sharply in order to stabilize your breathing. As Yeonjun’s large hands carefully slipped your smaller ones into his hands, he softly held them.

“Tell me, baby.” You opened your eyes at his request.

“Tell you what?”

“That you want me as much as I do. That I can fuck you the way I’ve always dreamt of.” The vulgar words that came from his mouth sent a violent shudder down your spine. You were not used to dirty talk, but it was something you would gladly get used to if it meant Yeonjun was the one.

“I-I….” You found yourself struggling to follow his commands.

You let out a sharp gasp when Yeonjun grabbed both your wrist by his single hand and pinned it above your head. The forceful slam on the headboard rang in your ears as you found yourself staring at the man with wide eyes. His beautiful eyes looked dangerous. Like a wolf staring at his prey.

“You have nowhere to run now, baby. Follow my orders, and I might just reward you.” Struggling to hold his heavy gaze, you closed your eyes.

“I want you so much, Yeonjun… Fuck me, you can do anything you want with me!” He lets out a low groan at your sweet words, the grip on your wrists tightening. Yeonjun jumped at the opportunity to spread your legs and position himself in between. Immediately, you whimpered when his clothed length rubbed against you.

“Good kitty.” Yeonjun whispers into your ear. He moves more, slowly grinding his hips against your throbbing core. The action had you choking back a needy moan. Even from that, you could tell how delicious his cock would be when you finally had it for yourself. Arousal flaring through your entire body, you struggled to stay still.

“Look at me.” Even if you heard his command, you couldn’t do so immediately. Not when you felt your entire body crumble with the slightest of movements. Not when you knew you were soaking through your panties by now. You felt so overwhelmed with desire for him.

“Fucking look at me when I tell you to, baby.” He spat the venomous words, landing a slap on your inner thigh. You flinched at the unexpected contact and let out a broken moan. You couldn’t help but meet his dangerous gaze.

“That’s right, keep your eyes on me. I want those pretty eyes on me only.” He said whilst grinding even harder against your clothed heat. His dick was so hard, you could practically feel him pulsating. He was rock hard- for you.

You bit your lip to maintain your voice while still holding the eye contact.

Once again, he leaned into your neck. When he placed a gentle kiss, you let out a small whimper. You couldn’t help but find your fingers tangled in his messy black hair all over again. When his hot tongue started traveling over your sensitive neck, you bit your lip even harder. You made a futile attempt to move your arms. Yeonjun was having none of it- the iron grip he held was too strong.

“Stay still, slut.” Your eyes flew open. It was so unexpected, but so delicious to hear from his swollen lips. You couldn’t help but let out breathy moans here and there when he ravaged your neck as much as he could. He didn’t leave a spot open, not an inch where he didn’t kiss, bite or lick. You were sure to have quite a few love bites tomorrow.

He let your wrists go to take off your top and skirt. You faintly remembered wearing tights. When he noticed the thin material, he didn’t give you a chance to answer before instantly ripping it to shreds. Roughly stripping you out of the clothing, he hungrily took in the sight of you in your underwear.

God damn, you were stunning. Your beauty could rival any goddess. And you were all his.

“Mine.” He growled when placed a kiss on your collarbone. He unhooked your bra and threw them across the room. Large rough hands fondling your tits, he continued the trace of love bites downwards. He wanted to mark every inch your body if he could’ve.

As much as he wanted to just destroy you immediately, your pleasure was the priority to him. He had no intentions of rushing anything today. But even so, some things had his patience running out.

You let out a loud gasp when he ripped your beige panties as well. The unexpected gesture sent a burning arousal straight to your core. You were sure to be soaking wet by now, you could even feel it yourself. The sudden exposure to the cold air had you shivering.

You made a futile attempt to close your legs in embarrassment. Contrary to your wishes, Yeonjun’s hands held a firm grip on your thighs to prevent that.

“Don’t you dare hide this pretty cunt from me, baby.” The absolute filth coming from your usual science-nerd best friend had you clenching around nothing down there. The need of having him inside you was growing rapidly each second. You wanted to touch, kiss, and feel him in every way you could.

So you decided to test what he questioned earlier. You flipped over.

Having Yeonjun under you felt like winning a prize, somehow. You felt a sense of absolute pride, and wanted to own him like he was talking about. You wasted no time in connecting your lips to his and proceeded to take off his hoodie. As soon as his top was off, your eyes ran hungrily over his ripped abs, and gosh, he looked so darn beautiful. Drunk off his manly cologne, you wanted to taint him with your scent. If you were animals, you wanted to knot him with your mark. You badly wanted him, in every way possible.

Your hips moved automatically, grinding against him sensually. Growling, Yeonjun’s tongue swirled around yours. The hot open-mouthed kiss took your breath away, your nails sinking into his shoulder. When you finally broke away, you were conflicted on what you should do next.

Yeonjun took the second of hesitation as a chance to get on top again. He flipped over with such ease, as if you were as light as a snowflake.

“When did I give permission to do that, y/n?” Your name sounded dangerous when he growled it like that. Once again, you felt your hot core pulsing and dripping.

“Keep your eyes on me while I eat this pussy out, doll.” His narrow eyes looked even sharper than before when he finally had a proper look at you. The sight of you naked, whimpering his name was something he would never forget.

He secured his grip on your thighs before diving in.

Yeonjun’s hot breath over your soaking cunt, he took a second to spread the lips apart. Almost immediately locating your clitoris, he lightly teased it with his thumb. Satisfied with how your body shook violently, he felt himself get rock hard.

When his hot tongue brushed over your sensitive clit, you could’ve sworn you saw stars. Dark hazel eyes never once leaving your orbs, he carefully observed your reaction to each of his motions. You let out a sharp yelp.

Yeonjun experimentally flicked your bud. Wet muscle attached to your swollen clit; his wolf-like eyes never left your face. Lewd sounds of your juice filling the room- your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Wasting no time in finding your sweet spots, he left you clawing on his bedsheets in no time. He circled his wet tongue teasingly on your bundle of nerves, he lightly flicked it directly. The sensation too mind-blowing, you cried out his name. Yeonjun was relentless in his actions, fingers sinking into your soft thighs as he ate you out like a man starved. He wasn’t afraid to get messy, all he cared about was how your body trembled every time he sucked gently on the sensitive bud. Brutally ravaging your cunt, he sensed that you were nearing your orgasm.

“Y-Yeonjun, I-I’m close!” You cried out, gripping the bedsheets like your life depended on it. Nothing could prepare you for the powerful orgasm that was coming, you could just hope you wouldn’t go mad. It was so close; you were so close-

Until he pulled away.

Eyes wide with tears, you whimpered and stared at Yeonjun pleadingly. Not sure what you could even say, you wiped the tears brimming your eyes.

Before you knew it, he had started again.

Yeonjun had made it his goal to edge you until you lost your mind completely. The sight of you so fucked out, completely succumbed to him- Yeonjun groaned into your cunt at the thought.

He would do it until you felt the knot in your lower regions, threatening to break any second- And then stop. You would chase your high, pressure in your lower stomach building up more and more- until he ripped it away from you. After waiting a few seconds for you to cool down, he continued his assault again. It felt like he’s been going at it for hours.

“J-Jun…Yeonjun. Please, please let me cum..!” You cried weakly, hands finding its way to his messy locks again. Lightly pushing his head further, you wanted him to eat you out like a man starved. Make you cum over and over again.

“Are you sure, baby? I could keep doing this for hours, you taste too sweet to pass on.” You shook your head violently, eyes getting teary again from the brutal orgasm denial. All you wanted was your orgasm that had been ripped away from you too many times.

“Please, please…”

“Beg me more, baby. Call my name like it’s the only word you know.” He went back to eating you out. The sound of his wet muscle connecting with your own fluids was embarrassing, yet oddly intoxicating. It turned you on even more.

“Please let me cum… Yeonjun!” As soon as you choked out the name, Yeonjun’s eyes snapped in your direction.

The endearment brought out his animalistic instincts further. Loud slurping noises fill the room once again, just this time even more furiously. His tongue brushed over your clit over and over again, until you finally felt the knot come undone. You weren’t prepared for it to come so fast, a loud moan being ripped from you. Long awaited orgasm washed over your entire body, you saw pure white. Only, white quickly got painted with scarlet when your desire for the man in front of you awakened once again.

Yeonjun kitten licked your pussy, having a taste of you once more. He was addicted to you.

The sinful sight of him made your cheeks flare, and core clench against nothing. Even if it was immediately after cumming, you felt the growing need to have him inside of you.

“Fuck me, Yeonjun. Fuck me until the only word I know is your name.” You spat out, hopefully to hit a nerve and have him claim you the way you’ve always dreamed of. Your eyes went wide when he slammed his hand on the headboard and glared down at you with furious glint in his eyes.

“Don’t order me around, slut. You better use the right word to address me from now on.” You felt your entire body shudder at his words. He was so naturally dominant, the need to submit completely to him growing.

Yet, you couldn’t help but want to provoke him further.

“Or what, you wouldn’t fuck me? We both know you can’t wait another second until you stuff that thick cock into my- Ah!” Yeonjun pulled you closer to him by roughly pulling you on your thighs.

“You’re playing with fire, cumslut. You better be ready for the big words you uttered just now.” When you saw him finally position himself at your glistening wet folds, you felt your body catch fire. You wanted him so bad it was driving you insane.

You knew you could take whatever Yeonjun could give you. As you directly met his burning gaze, you took in the sight of him smirking darkly at your request.

His length was impressive, to say the least. Both length and width exceeded the standards of average, your mouth watering at sight. You were positive that it would hurt like losing your virginity all over again.

Even so, it was Yeonjun. It was with him, so you could take anything. You wanted everything he could give you.

When you looked into his honey hazel eyes again, all you could see was your own fucked-out expression and pure lust dripping from them. They stared at you with such fiery passion, it was addicting.

“Hang on tight, doll.” Your delicate hands were placed on his wide shoulders as you anxiously awaited him to finally slip it inside you. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead gingerly, which took you by surprise.

As he rubs his thick tip on your entrance, you both sharply inhaled with a breathy moan following afterwards. Yeonjun staring at you with such eyes, it felt amazing to be claimed in such intimacy.

He slowly pushed his length inside while hearing your beautiful voice, mesmerized. The thickness caused a sweet burn inside, making you arch your back. Even if it hurt, you didn’t want him to stop.

“Does it hurt? Are you okay?” Yeonjun was undeniably worried at your slightly grimacing expression. That was not what you wanted to hear.

“Stop being a pussy and fuck me like you promised you would, Yeonjun.” You intentionally used his name to piss him off. You knew you were saying this even when he hadn’t bottomed out yet, but you couldn’t help it. The desire to be ruined by Yeonjun was too overwhelming.

He grunted before pushing in all the way without any warning. You yelped, nails digging into his shoulder. The sweet pain of being stretched out by the man you’re in love with was indescribable. When your tight cunt clenched around him, Yeonjun shuddered.

He didn’t wait a single second to go absolutely wild with you. As if unleashing a beast in slumber, his eyes shone in a new light you had never seen before.

“You’re so fucking tight, this pretty cunt is all for me” He sounded like he was talking to himself more as he dragged himself out to the very tip, then slamming it back in. The sound of skin slapping against each other mixed with the air smelling like sex itself, you lost yourself in the moment. Entire body burning with desire, your mouth hung open. You had absolutely zero control over your voice as you freely let out the embarrassingly loud moans spill. Yeonjun’s eyes darkened at the delicious sound, he landed a sharp slap on your inner thigh again. And again. It was sure to bruise by tomorrow.

Yeonjun kept up a rather fast and rough pace, contrary to what you initially imagined it would be. Because of his naturally teasing and laid-back personality, you figured he would fuck that way too. However, right in this moment, you only felt yourself and him fucking like animals in heat. Your neck sinking into his back, you cried out louder. The only thing keeping you sane in this moment was the feeling of his thick cock slipping in and out of you. He was addicting, and he knew it. The higher he took you, the greedier you became.

You had the nerve to scream when you could barely take the current pace. Yeonjun thrusts became faster and rougher, the iron grip on your hips causing darkening spots that would bruise. You were practically sobbing when he started rubbing circles on your clit alongside. Entire body shaking with each thrust, Yeonjun’s eyes were still observing you to find your g-spot.

You hated and loved how observant he was.

In under a minute, he found your sweet spot inside as well. When he noticed your breath hitching louder and body shudder more violently, he knew he hit the jackpot. As he targeted that specific spot, you felt tears rimming your eyes. The high-pitched moans coming uncontrollably out of your open lips were doing a lot of things to Yeonjun. He fucked you exactly the way he promised.

Landing a loud slap on your inner thigh again, he slipped out.

You almost cried and was prepared to beg for it again Contrary to your initial thought, you found yourself being forcefully flipped over to a new position.

“Face down ass up, baby. Hurry up.” You immediately followed his words and sticked your ass against his length again.

Your mind went blank when he slipped his thick cock again into your deliciously tight walls. The new position bringing out newer, vivid sensations, you moaned needily. Yeonjun’s low voice with his breathy moan was sinful- music to your ears.

“Ngh, jun- feels so good-!” You clawed at the bedsheets, wrinkling it up more. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else other than the sweet sensation of his thick cock filling you to the brim and bringing out moans you didn’t know you could produce. Yeonjun’s mind was also foggy, the feeling of your tight pussy and beautiful voice feeling like a dream.

When he dragged his veiny cock over your sweet spot from behind, you screamed at the feeling. Too embarrassed to hear yourself in such manner, you sunk your head to the pillow below you. Yeonjun immediately noticed you trying to lower your moans.

He landed a sharp spank on your ass this time, leaving a pretty red print behind. You couldn’t help but let your voice out and looked back at him. When he glared at you with those eyes, you knew what he was thinking even without him voicing it out.

“Don’t fucking make me repeat yourself, cumslut. You are mine, let me hear those pretty moans.” You weakly nodded, struggling to stay in position. Every time he slammed into you, you saw red. You had never felt anything like this before.

“I’m going to own this pretty pussy and fill it with my hot cum until you can’t take it anymore.” His dirty talking had you clenching around him immediately. Yeonjun inhaled sharply at the tightening, landing rough spanks here and there. The sweet feeling of being pounded raw filled you with desire, every ounce of you focusing on Yeonjun. Nothing else mattered beside you and him.

“Who is making you moan so loud? Tell me, slut. Who owns this pussy? Who do you belong to? Fuck, such a good girl.” You let out needy moan after moan, the sharp sounds of his hip snapping against yours filled your ears. Yeonjun groaned in an animalistic manner and gripped your hip even tighter with one hand. Slamming forcefully on the headboard, he gripped the wood so tightly it turned white.

“'m a good girl, Yeon-yeonjun owns me-” You were surprised you managed to form a sentence with your mind in such state. The man you’ve harbored feelings for years, pounding you rough and raw from behind. It was still unbelievable. Yet, sparks flying and the addicting feeling of his cock slipping in and out of you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You could focus on absolutely nothing than his fat dick filling you up.

Your orgasm was quickly approaching, sensitivity heightened when Yeonjun pulled you by your hair. Yelping in pain, you felt yourself drool. The fast and rough pace he had never slowed down, not even a second. Every time he slipped out, he explored you inside out and hit you in the spots you never even knew you had. When his large hands wrapped your thin neck, the delicious adrenaline rush flowed through your veins. Slightly struggling to breathe, your orgasm heightened even more. It was so close-

“Y-Yeonjun, I’m-!”

“Let go baby, you’re doing so well. Cum on my cock, baby girl.” Almost immediately, you cried out and let go. The feeling of your crashing orgasm driving you crazy, your entire body trembled with oversensitivity. Yeonjun let out a low grunt next to your ear, finally letting go of your neck. You didn’t even have the chance to breathe properly again before he started the cruel pace again immediately after your second orgasm of the night.

“W-Wait Jun- Nhh ah!” You couldn’t form any word with the current state of mind, not when he was drilling into you like there was no tomorrow. You finally remembered he still hadn’t came yet. Gulping, you tried your best to hold on until he came undone. You didn’t even notice the string of saliva slipping down your chin when you were too busy trying to push your ass more towards him. Yeonjun bit down on your shoulder as he desperately tried to hold in the moans as he himself approached his high.

“Come in me, junie. Fill me up with your cum and make me yours, I want all of you so bad, Yeonjun!” You couldn’t help but speak everything you were feeling out loud. The unexpected honesty ignited a new flame inside Yeonjun, causing him to bite down even harder. You were so irresistible, and all his. The wonderful submission you had in your voice was absolutely beautiful.

“Fuck, such a good girl… All mine… You are mine, (y/n). You hear that…?” You grimaced from the pain, but still let out strained moans at the brutal pace he was still keeping. The inability to reply verbally slipped out of your mind again, all you could feel was the veiny cock rubbing against your cushiony walls. Your tear-stained cheeks rubbing against the bedsheets, you finally felt him release inside you with a single loud moan. When he shoot his hot semen inside you, you greedily tightened around him. The feeling of being filled to the brim with his seed set your cheeks on fire.

You whimpered when he pulled out, few drops of cum slipping out of you.

When he struggled to steady his breathing, you collapsed in his arms. Yeonjun looked at you in such loving gaze, you felt your heart hammer against your chest. He was wonderful, you felt yourself falling deeper in love if that was even possible. Yes, love.

Love?

An anxious feeling made your stomach drop now that you regained all your senses. What did this mean?

When you were too busy contemplating what to say, Yeonjun took the initiative.

“Baby, I know this isn’t exactly the right timing to say it, but…” You immediately realized what Yeonjun was about to say. Before you could realize, you had interrupted his speech.

“W-Wait Yeonjun!” His honey eyes immediately snapped towards you, eyebrows ever so slightly furrowing. He looked scared, suddenly. The fear of you not sharing his feelings arose, Yeonjun uncomfortably flinching.

“What’s wrong…? Did I hurt you? Or-”

“I love you, Yeonjun.” Your sudden confession shot an arrow straight through his heart, you could even feel his excitement and relief through his gaze only. But you knew that if you wanted to keep this relationship stable, you needed to voice out the concerns that kept you from confessing all those years.

“But I’m afraid. So afraid. I am afraid because I love you so much, it drives me mad sometimes. We’ve been through pretty much everything, we know each other so well. And I know that I love you more than anything in this world. But if this relationship fails… and we somehow break up… I am not willing to lose our friendship over something like this, Yeonjun. I’m not sure if we should… do this.” Yeonjun’s eyes glistened sadly at your confession. He wasn’t sure how to react while he was listening. As his warm hands lightly rubbed your thighs to help with the soreness, he couldn’t help but panic over your thoughts.

“Baby, I would love it if you didn’t take our relationship so lightly.” You snapped your eyes at Yeonjun, only to meet the most serious he has ever looked as far as you have known him.

“I love you. And you love me back. We are not going to break up. I am going to make you happy, keep you safe and sound, and marry you. I will have cute children with you, and make sure they live happily too. I can promise myself, my whole self-” he put your hand on his chest, where you could feel his beating heart. “-to you.” His eyes were dead serious. He meant every word he said. The heartfelt words had you tearing up immediately. That’s it.

That’s what you’ve wanted to hear all these years. Those words from your other half.

Putting your hand on his cheek, you smiled at the love of your life. You couldn’t believe that this was reality, that you will spend your whole life with him.

“I love you, my baby.”

“I love you too, so much.”

[hyukascampfire]

𝒯𝑂: 𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑂𝑁𝐸 𝐹𝑅𝑂𝑀 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑀 𝐶𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐸 ༉

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

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

wc ➳ 7.5k

pairings faerie!taehyun x human!reader

warnings violence, blood is drawn, some heated kissing and groping, a magic spell is placed over a human character, fem reader, mentions of violence, animal death

playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

…🪶 ashlynn's note okay i am actually so obsessed with a icy and mean taehyun. like genuinely it is rotting my brain. lmaooo

⑊ →

The stale reek of the ancient, crumbling palace walls makes it feel like they are closing in on you. You trail only a foot behind the odd goblin spy. He treats you with quiet. He’s relatively short in stature and quite grubby, worrying his hands while he walks. You have plenty of reasons to be scared of him; a royal spy, no doubt lethal in skill, who could probably spin around and end your life the second he decided he didn’t like you. But you aren’t scared of him—no, your brain is quintessentially human, and more worried about whether or not the rest of them would find you up to their standards when you arrive where he takes you.

Growing up among the folk was, in an understatement, challenging. They were of a different nature. They did not understand the rules of the human world, and could never understand your resentment for being spirited away. Most would argue that it was a blessing, that you would one day grovel at the feet of the faerie that had stolen you here all those years ago. Resentment bloomed like a potent seed in your mind each time Nut-hatch made you sew the gowns she couldn’t manage until your fingers were bleeding and sore. Because, who wouldn’t adore a life spent at the beck and call of the faerie that snatched you right from your cradle?

You trip over a loose, fractured stone, reaching out for a wall to catch yourself. Palm stinging, you hiss. Re-steadying yourself, you spin the hand over to inspect the burning scrapes. Blood wells around shallow white trails where stone had bitten skin, but you kick your legs back into motion. The goblin does not bother to wait for you. You expect that he’d just continue walking if you don’t.

“And you expect to be a spy,” the goblin laughs, a throaty and irritating sound, “crying over a scuff.” He does not even turn around to address you, but you can’t say you expected him to. You had done nothing to earn his respect. You are going to change that.

Instead of defending yourself or making yourself sound pathetic, you just stop nursing the scrape and let the sound of footfalls fill the air. The walk is long, and you find your mind wandering off to agonize over the different ways that this could play out. Many of them do not end well. You squeeze your eyes shut, gulping down a swallow despite the tightness in your throat. When you feel your foot catching on flat ground again, nearly toppling forward, your eyes lurch open. Don’t close your eyes walking down the halls of decrepit old castles, genius. 

He makes a stop a few feet ahead of you, just before a towering, ornate, and no doubt heavy elmwood door. The metal handles are scuffed with well use to the point that they are utterly dull and reflect little light, and there are four long gashes that splinter the wood. Wild gashes like that could only have been carved by a beast of Faerie origin. 

“So, this is the entrance?” you ask, catching up to him. You gesture at the door ahead. 

He levels you a stare, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth. A yellowed canine, so sharp it would pierce your jugular like a knife through sweet cream, peeks out. You squirm under his glare, those yellow eyes scrutinizing you for a moment. 

“More like this,” he says simply, looking pointedly to a slate tile at his feet.

You sigh. You suppose you should’ve inferred that the entrance of a royal spy den is not just a door with no visible locks or veiling. You watch as he dislodges the loose tile from the ground with practiced ease, a heavy hunk of stone that reveals beneath it a set of stairs leading down into the ground. The palace they had decided to conceal the den within is no doubt timeworn, but the staircase you look at now seems much newer. The stone is significantly less worn and eroded, save for the dirt that cakes the tops of each step. Wafts of earth and root greet your nose.

You frown at the prospect of heading down without even so much as a torch on the wall. It’s hollow and black down there, leaving you to only imagine where a root or pebble might steal your balance and send you down who even knows how far. “How deep is that staircase?” you ask. The goblin had already begun descending, pausing at the third step with visible impatience. 

“Oh, just get down here, won’t you?” he grumbles. “This damned stone is heavy.” You observe the utter pitch black of the stairwell for a moment, considering all the awful possibilities, before relenting and descending into it. Stone grinding and light weaning to nothingness tickle nerves up your spine as he slides the coverstone back over the entrance. 

“I can’t see,” you say, words falling out into the thick, muddy air. Perhaps obvious, but how are you supposed to walk? He curses you out under his breath before he grabs you by the meat of your arm with gnarled, calloused fingers, tugging you forward and down. You protest as you almost slip off the ledge of a step, stumbling down each descending one for a few moments until you come to another stop. The floor here is softer beneath your feet, no longer stone. You sit in waiting for whatever he is doing in the pitch black. You do not question him again. It’s better to not come off as any more incapable than you already had made yourself look, considering your goals. Your stomach is tied in such tangled up knots that you don’t know how to act right; how to act like the capable spy that you had painted yourself to be in order to even end up in this decaying palace. You wonder if he is second guessing his decision in even bringing you here. You hold your head up a little more, squaring your shoulders. If you act sure of yourself, you’ll appear that way.

A resounding pattern of knocks bounces off the dirt walls surrounding you two, and the sound of muffled words spoken follow. A soft yellow light luminates your surroundings as a peephole slides open. You blink your eyes to readjust, taking in your surroundings for the first time since that stone snuffed the light out. A rickety, rotting wood door stands before you, oddly shaped to fit the round, burrowed out dirt hollow. The light filtering in from behind the door disappears when somebody peeks through it. No words are even exchanged before a metal sliding bolt cues the unlocking of the round door, and it swings open. You squint your eyes in the light.

“This is her?” A reedy faerie stands holding the door open, her skin a pale green and with an iridescent sheen to it. The hood from the cloak around her shoulders is tugged over her head, but you can see the way she takes you in even through the shadow it casts. 

“Something wrong?” the goblin asks, shoving his way past the long-limbed sprite. You stay put, not sure whether or not they’d like you just barreling your way in behind him.

She scrutinizes you for a moment longer, shrugging. “No,” she answers, lips pursed, “just a bit…” The sprite hesitates on the wording before finishing,“Underwhelming?” She leaves the door to follow him in. You gnaw at your cheeks. You are used to being lackluster—You were raised from infancy here, in a world of creatures that are beauty incarnate. Humans could be beautiful, yeah. But it was not the beauty of starless nights for eyes, nor of flower-petal skin, and never hair of twinkling, gold-spun strands. Human beauty could only ever exist in the four-walled prison of facial symmetry and physical attraction. Even the most gritty of the folk had a certain air of ethereal about them, worted and twisted as they may be. You resent them for it; resent the way your skin and hair dull beside them, becoming something mundane and underwhelming.

Their little hideout is humble. It smells of old wood, and furniture is minimal. The two of them sit down at a square table to the center of the room, leaving three other seats empty. You mull over whether or not simply taking a seat next to them would be offensive before just shoving your nerves down with a foot long stick and sitting. To convince them that you’re a needed part of their team, you’ve got to act the part. An indelible spy does not wonder whether or not a seat is for them, they know it is theirs. However you may try to play an act, though, you’re sure that they can see how the scars that decorate your fingertips are more from pricks of a sewing needle than they are of blades and combat. The sprite girl tugs her hood off her head, revealing a head of tousled white hair except for horizontal stripes of black that decorate some chunks. Her eyelashes are chunky, spidery, and curled, so long they tickle her brow with each blink, and they frame her grass-green eyes. She doesn’t look far off from the insect that she shares her name with. Regarding you, she sits nonchalant and kicked back in the chair, worn boots up and criss-crossed on the table. 

“This is the place where you’ll meet us,” she says, addressing you finally. She wiggles a foot as if this conversation is the last she’d like to be having.

You pause inwardly—you had thought this would be some sort of rugged test of skills, not an initiation.

She continues. “You’ll meet the others whenever they—”

You cut her off. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my qualifications?” 

She quirks a delicate brow, speaking for her just as well as words might.

 “Or, like, test me? Or something?” you continue. The two of them share a look, before breaking out into snorts and giggles. You shift in your seat, frowning. There was nothing funny about your questions.

“We would have never even brought you down here if we didn’t already decide on you,” the sprite girl says, and then gestures at the goblin, “We heard plenty of you from Gristle.” 

The goblin sputters to explain himself, embarrassed how the sprite had made it seem like he was raving. Gristle is his name, then. “We needed a human counterpart,” he says, pointing a clawed finger at the sprite girl. “Nobody else was doing the heavy lifting in recruiting. You try and see how it is, then,” he huffs, voice gravelly. “We needed one, and I brought you one.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, voice softening to a tone reminiscent of soothing a tantruming toddler. “You sure did.” She flexes her booted foot to point in your direction, “But did you bring us a competent one?” 

You cross your arms across your chest, narrowing your eyes. “I’m plenty competent,” you say. Sure, you are the servant girl of a busy seamstress faerie, but you need to make something more of yourself in one way or another. You could learn anything, if it meant that. “You don’t have to worry about me running off and telling anybody anything.”

She barks a laugh, as if the notion was ridiculous. “Well, I should know that, because I assume you value your life well enough.” She lets her feet drop off the table, prowling toward you on legs a bit too long for her body, before sliding an ornate dagger from its sheath at her hip and brandishing it to you. “But could you even hold your own if someone engages you out in the field?” She then drives the blunt, thick pommel end of it into your chin. Your head snaps back with the force of the strike, and you can feel by the warm trickle of blood that it had busted your chin open. 

You look at her, wild-eyed and accusatory. Your jaw aches as you open your mouth to ask, “What was that?” A trail of thick blood runs down your neck, and she just scoffs.

“Figures.” The sprite sheaths the dagger, dropping back into her seat unceremoniously as if she did not just bash you in the chin. 

“I don’t know how to fight yet,” you say, wiping at your neck. You bring your hand up to check the damage, hissing through your teeth as you prod around the gash. You shake your shoulders as if it would shake off the searing pain running up and down your jaw before adding, “But I can learn. I will learn.” Gristle tosses you a rag he had retrieved silently from a drawer, his mouth pulled taut into a line. You wipe up the remnants of the blood, the metallic tang of it finally reaching your nose. You shudder as you press the rag to the wound and hold it there. 

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Gristle cracks, his grin toothy. “We weren’t going to find humans who could already fight,” he says, a fur-tipped ear twitching, “but one willing to learn…” He looks at you, and then returns his gaze to the sprite. “We can work with that, Cricket.” When her face stays drawn, he repeats, “We can work with it.” His yellow saucer eyes are serious.

Cricket doesn’t say anything; her grassy eyes simply go distant with thought for a moment. It was true: humans are not brought to the world of Faerie to learn to fight. Or to be anything more than servants, at that. The luckiest ones, like you, are at the very least schooled on reading and faerie histories. Lucky would be an overstatement, though. Nobody stolen from their homes and then forced to accept a reality in a foreign world is genuinely lucky. Despite it, you no longer dream of the life you could’ve had in the human world. It is not your life. It will never be your life. And, considering the look that Cricket and Gristle share, your life is now to be the human counterpart of a royal band of spies. 

“Do you know how an oath works?” Cricket asks, pulling out that same embellished dagger and spinning it between two fingers. You hesitate before nodding. You don’t, and she seems to read right through you. She narrows her eyes at you. 

“First of all, don’t lie. Never lie. We have to be able to trust each other.” She says, still spinning that glittering dagger utterly nonchalant. “You’ll want our trust when you’re on the field and need your back covered. Not knowing how to officiate an oath is one thing,” she stops spinning the blade to point it at you, “lying to me is another.”

 You shake off the embarrassment that crawls up your throat. “I’m sorry. I want you guys to trust me.” 

“Trust is especially important with you,” she says. It’s true. Humans can lie blatantly with their mouths. The folk could twist truths to deceive, and bend over backwards to make one thing sound like another, but they could not just lie. In your schooling years, you were taught that a lie is simply against faerie nature. You had laughed at that—if anything seemed to be in faerie nature, it was lying.

 “We can start our trust”—she gestures with one finger between you and herself—“off on the right foot with a geas.” Taking your arm that does not hold the rag, she tugs it toward her.

You struggle with the word geas. A geas is a faerie ensorcellment the folk dearly love subjecting humans, who did not know any better, to. They sweet-talk them into it, and when the human was fully ensorcelled, the human becomes a living plaything to make dance unabashedly and kiss the dirt off their boots. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 

“An oath and a geas are not interchangeable,” you say, wary and preparing to take your arm back. “Which is it?”

 “An oath means nothing to a human.” She looks to Gristle for support, “Right or wrong?”

“Leave me out of it.” 

Cricket rolls her eyes. “We just have to get some type of way to ensure that I won’t have to tie up loose ends.”

A knock rings through the room, the same rhythmic knock that Gristle had performed on the door. Gristle clambers over to the door and slides the peephole open. 

“Decided to show up to do your work today?” Gristle says through the peephole, before sliding the hatch open. You look away from the door before seeing who enters as Cricket grows impatient, spinning your arm so that your palm is facing the roof. She takes her dagger and slides it across the delicate skin. You try to reclaim your hand, but she holds it steady and slides a slit across her own palm. 

“Are you guys trying to bleed me for every drop I have?” you protest. You could probably count the amount of wounds you’ve been inflicted with since stepping into the palace on two hands. She clasps your hands, mushing together the wounds still seeping blood. 

You had forgotten about the knock at the door until a new voice with a deep and silvery quality to it asks, “Trying to do it before I could get here, Cricket?” The voice travels from behind you to in front of you, and the man who owns it comes into view. He is relatively tall, towering over Gristle and quite a bit taller than Cricket. His hair is dark, hanging over a pair of sharp eyes that glare daggers at the sprite. You thank all things good that he is not leveling you with that icy smolder. You notice quickly that his ears are the distinct rounded form of a human’s ear. 

“This is Taehyun.” Cricket gestures with an exasperated arm. If the roundness of his ears is not already telling, the name is. He was human. You frown, retracting your hand.

“I thought you guys were looking for a human counterpart? That you had no human piece?” 

The quickness that Cricket is trying to get a geas over you is already unnerving, but now they are lying about the circumstances of your recruitment?

Cricket gives Taehyun a look that could match the heat of a thousand suns. His face is stony in response to it, utterly unmoved. Gristle does not make so much as a peep. 

“Taehyun,” she says while she takes your wounded hand into her own again, “is faerie.” 

“What about his ears, then?” You make a gesture around your own ear, one that drags along the round curve of it. Faeries were not born with rounded ears, not the goblins, nor the hobs, nor brownies, not even ones that are the most humanlike in nature. You have seen folk with knives for teeth, skin of boulders, hair from ear to clawed foot, but never rounded ears. It was another intrinsic piece of their nature; what set you apart from them. He was absolutely a human, and they were absolutely not telling you the truth. They had to have spoken their words in a way that made one thing seem like another, spun truths into lies. It was the faerie way. You would not be magically compelled by liars.

Taehyun’s face flashes with the first emotion you had seen since he arrived, but it is muddled and hard to read. 

Cricket scowls deeper, telling you, “He is not a human.” 

Taehyun gets in closer, his eyes venomous. “You know how I feel about that shit.”

 You try to decipher whether he meant being human, or the geas, but his next words solve it for you. “And you were going to try and do it before I could say anything.” When Cricket opens her mouth to say something, he cuts her off, “Don’t you say that’s not true.” 

Cricket turns to you, decidedly not responding to Taehyun. “I want the geas, because it will make us feel safer. I swear on the Mighty King’s life that I will not use it to control you in any way, other than to keep your mouth shut about our operations. You will not hear another thing of it from this day forward, anyway.” Her words are proof enough of her honesty, plain and so obvious in their wording that she could not be twisting her truths around a lie. She means what she says, or else she would not be able to say it. “Would it make you feel better if you were the one to make it, Taehyun? Would you just seal your lips and let us move on from this?” She asks. Gristle feels the tension as bad as you do, so thick in the air you could choke on it, making himself busy sliding a blade down a sharpening stone.

Taehyun does not respond, his black eyes conveying exactly how he feels about that. You attempt to ease the atmosphere while also catering to your own curiosities. “How is he a faerie, with rounded ears? That doesn’t… exist.”

Taehyun’s eyes flicker at the topic of his ears again. “Well, it seems you don’t know all that you think you do about Faerie then, huh?” he spits before spinning and disappearing down a hall that leads further into the spy den, long legs clad in black striding near silently beneath him. The words crawl under your skin successfully. You could spend your whole life here, and still the folk would see you as foreign. It makes you want to make that geas, to make something of yourself. To be a spy, and make them see that you are so much more than what Nut-hatch told you that you are destined to be; A servant to the superior beings. To make him chew his words, because you know plenty about this foul world, and how to live in it. If anything was true, it was true that you know more about it than him. 

You turn to Cricket, more determination in you now than you even had when you pledged your case to Gristle. “I’ll take the geas. I’ll do whatever it takes to become a competent piece of your team, I swear it. I know my words don’t carry much weight to you, but please, let me show you that I mean them.” Cricket grins, tightening her hand to yours, tilting her head to one side and batting her spiky lashes at you. 

“I knew you were a smart girl.” She taps you on the nose, before her expression drops to a more solemn one. The headiness of faerie enchantment tugs at the sides of your vision, turning it wavy and magnified about the edges. You feel it thread through the air, and then spread from your palm to your arm, and then all over, under your skin, like an itch, and in your head, like potent faerie wine. It lasts for a moment’s width longer, before you blink it away. She drops her hand from yours. 

“You will not speak of this team, nor its dealings, to anybody I do not authorize, and are, from this exact moment forward, unable to reveal the location of this den.” You shudder under the gravity of knowing that your autonomy is vulnerable and in her hands. Was it ever truly yours to have, though? Faerie glamour and enchantments on humans are unpunishable, and often seen as entertainments. Is a geas permanent? You shove back that worry; it’s too late now.

Gristle whistles a descending tone, finally making himself known again. “This place, we call Homebase. Or, The Hole. Whichever you prefer,” he gestures around, and you take in the shoddy ceiling, the make-shift kitchen, and the weapons strewn about every surface. Definitely a spy hideout. “There are a few others for you to meet. They come and go; but you’ll be staying here, I understand?”

 You nod. He knew about your situation with Nut-hatch already.

“Okay, then. Let’s get you a room.” He hobbles to that hallway Taehyun had stormed down, his gold-embroidered cloak dragging on the floor behind him. You follow, scoping out the scenery. 

“Do the others not stay here?” you ask. You two continue down that same hall, the smell of underground musk still heavy. That would take you some getting used to. 

He grunts in affirmation. “Whoever you met today, stay here. The others dwell elsewhere, for some reason or another.” He stops at a room, and opens the door. The room is ornate in contrast with the other rooms of The Hole, the bedding plush and made of fine threads. It was not anything overly extravagant, but perfectly fit for a spy of The King. It is better than sleeping in the sweltering-hot attic of Nut-hatch’s cottage, you decide, appreciating the cool and damp air. And here, they decide that you are worthy enough of your own room. That is more than enough for you.

 “But, you’ll meet them tomorrow, no doubt. Make this room your own, I’ll fetch some more fitting garments for you,” he gestures down to the simple linen frock you adorn. You feel the odd tickle of embarrassment at the back of your mind. The irony of your attire, while living under the roof of an esteemed seamstress, is hard to ignore. Nut-hatch had always liked to scold you up and down that there is no need to look frilly working a gown shop, while simultaneously being dressed in ribbons and lace. You take a deep breath of linen-scented air, and then release it. And then, you get to making the room your own. 

❆

You do your best to plant your booted foot to the ground, to save yourself from anxiously toeing dirt or stone. The clothes they had brought for you were odd and foreign as someone who only wore the most efficient of dresses and leather slippers for the entirety of her life leading up to this moment. The hooded cloak bunches around your neck and shoulders, stifling. The boots at your feet are so heavy and chunky that they chastely kiss the ground when you step. The sensation of pant legs securing your thighs and shins is the most suffocating, and the weight of the weapons secured by straps are heavier than you’d ever expected them to be. And, to top it all off beautifully, your first assignment is with Taehyun. You’re supposed to be heading north, to the land of the Northern Queen, where the folk are Unseelie, and are said to be the most vicious. You’d already let that thought sink in, though. Now, all you can mull over is spending the trip with Taehyun; the contempt he had regarded you with before he left last night is still fresh in your mind.

Lightweight footsteps approach behind you, and you know it’s Taehyun. He plops a full pack on the ground wordlessly before tugging the hood of his mantle up and over his head. He is, like yesterday, fashioned in a black tunic and a matching doublet, embroidered with silver threads at the lapel and cuffs, a heavy bow strapped to his back. Maybe a bit flashy for days of traveling by foot, but maybe you also have no idea what flashy actually means. 

You cross your arms over your chest, before gesturing to the bag you had already packed for yourself. “I packed.” 

He sends you a vacant look. “Put that one back,” he tells you. The air is so tense that you consider just doing it, but his tone ruffles your feathers. 

“I have stuff that I want to bring in mine.”

He doesn’t respond, his face locked and static.

“Look,” you huff, “I know you don’t respect me yet, but I’m trying my best to become competent, you know?” 

“I respect you.” He picks up the pack he brought for you and dusts the bottom off. “You would freeze to the core in the north without the stuff packed in here. Competence is nothing to a corpse.” 

You blink at the bluntness of his words and press your mouth into a thin line, before dropping your original bag on the table and slinging the other over your shoulder. You gesture for him to lead the way with a restrained sigh, and he does so without falter.

The beginning of your mission starts off on a lovely foot.

❆

There is plenty of time to mull over what you would be doing in the north as Taehyun leads you through the lushness of the forest. The hum of insects and nearby streams and the cloying scent of summer-warmed bush berries reign supreme. When your stomach begins to rumble for not having eaten all day, you stop by a bush with exceptionally heavy branches and begin picking. The juice of the berries is thick and golden like honey when they mush between your fingers, and it glitters in the odd way that all Faerie fruit does. 

“Are you dull?” Taehyun’s voice, thick with contempt, makes you jump and lose a few from your handful of berries. “That is a Goldhip bush,” he says, his brows pinched, “you would die without a sign; just drop dead to the grass.”

Blinking, you drop the rest to the floor, wiping the glazed juices off on your pant leg.

He scoffs, spinning and heading the same way he had been going before you decided to grab fistfuls of, apparently, intensely poisonous berries. You follow him, shaken. 

“I had no idea,” you say, mostly to yourself, but he stops, turning on you. 

“You can’t afford having no idea out here. Either you step up to your role, or you die.” He gives you a long look before turning back around and stepping over a felled log. 

You step over the log as well. “I didn’t really have any reasons to know your poisons in my old life,” you say. Nut-hatch had at least fed you well, and you were never set out scavenging off berries with an empty belly. You set your pace so that you are parallel to him instead of trailing him. “What are the ones I should know?” 

He doesn’t even pause to think for a moment. He knows them like the back of his own hand. “Goldhip berries are turned into a liquid extract, and dropped into drinks. It doesn’t have a smell, but has a notorious sweet taste. It doesn’t matter by the time you taste it, though; you’re as good as dead.” A chill burrows its way under your skin. You had been so close to death; had you just popped a berry into your mouth, you would be dead right now. 

“How would you even avoid being poisoned by that, then?” 

“You don’t,” he deadpans. “It’s why you have to stay always painfully aware of your surroundings. Always.” You nod.

“Silver and salt are poison to the folk. They singe the skin, and when ingested, they decay the insides. It’d be best if you use that to your advantage. A poison harmless to you, but deadly to another, is an asset.” You clasp your hands and thank the sky inwardly at that. It feels like an ah-hah moment, to have something over the folk. Small mercies. 

“Human poisons don’t work on the folk at all. So, whatever you remember from your old life won’t serve you here.”

Old life? You have no old life. “I was raised here,” you say, keeping the hurt that tugs at your features on a tight leash. “I was in Faerie before I could even walk.” 

You watch as his face falters, sunlight filtering through tree leaves dappling his features and highlighting his nose. He is beautiful, like all fae are. He only nods in acknowledgement, but you can tell he tucks the information away.

He presses forward. “Hunter’s Bane is a milled-up tree leaf that inebriates, and fizzes up the drink it is sprinkled into. Not deadly, but the state it leaves you in could be. Deadly Pinchweed is ground up as well, and leaves a green tint—and is deadly. Lachrymose is a faerie fruit. As I’m sure you know, it makes a human agreeable and fogs their mind. It’s usually not prepared in any special way, just fed to glamoured humans.” 

The name of the fruit brings back the memory of a boy, a bit older than you, who at a particularly wild revelry was fed faerie fruit, and buttered up by folk who thought it would be exceptionally humorous for the boy to make an audience with The King. Of course, the boy did, spewing nonsense at the foot of the dais, before going to wrap The King in a hug. A guard shot an arrow through his heart. He could not have been older than sixteen. Nut-hatch barred you from any form of revelry after that; she couldn’t spare her hard-raised shop worker over some faerie fruit. You fold the memory up neatly, compacting it so that you can keep it vibrant and alive in your mind. You solidify, in that memory, that Taehyun and every other wretched creature of his kind, would hardly blink twice to see you die such a death. 

❆

Taehyun kindles a small but mighty fire with dry twigs and pine needles; they catch quickly and roar into blazing life. You settle onto the ground, propping your back against a gnarled trunk and try to breathe out the ache in your back. You miss the way the mattress back at home base had cradled your body into sleep, and abhor the dirt and foliage that sticks to your pants and palms where they meld with the ground. 

Taehyun’s voice, returning from his last round of searching for pine needles, startles you. “Get up.”

 You shoot him a look that, hopefully, channels all your exhaustion. “I just sat down,” you tell him, exasperated. 

“If you’re hungry, get up,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. He has ditched his mantle cloak and his doublet, and now is only in his simple black tunic, its sleeves rolled to his elbows. He’s serious, then. 

You huff and complain, but stand up and dust off your palms and pants from the needles that stick to them. The especially deep indents itch a bit, and you soothe them as you follow him promptly into the thicker part of the woods. 

“Lighten your feet,” Taehyun commands, his voice low, as a third twig snaps under your foot. You wince and try to replicate the lightness of his walk, but it makes no difference. If anything, your gait is more off than before now that you overthink it. Taehyun stops walking, pointing to his feet, before slowly demonstrating his footfalls. “Tense your legs, and keep your weight on your back foot until the other is fully on the ground.”

You oblige, and can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as it works. Your steps come lighter, and dodging crunching foliage easier. It reminds you of how a stalking beast might make itself light and airy while it watches and hunts.

The two of you continue through the shrubbery and low-hanging branches until Taehyun pauses, placing a finger over his lips. You see it now, too; a plump pheasant that pecks at the foliage, none-the-wiser. Taehyun reaches for his bow, and notches an arrow. He pulls the bowstring taut, centering his shot, and the arrow sings as he lets it fly. 

The thud of the arrow piercing the pheasant makes your stomach flip. The pheasant cries, the arrow having pinned its wing and pierced through its stomach, but not killed it instantly. You avert your eyes as the scene burrows under your skin. Your heart sinks heavy like stone in water. Taehyun bounds over to the still squawking bird with hurried steps, and the sound of metal unsheathing is followed by a loud final cry and then silence. You go rigid, nails biting your palm. You do not open your eyes, even as Taehyun announces in a whisper that he spots a second bird. The pheasant’s final cries bounce off the walls of your mind, reverberating and driving a stake into your hurting heart more with each echo.

❆

Taehyun ended up catching two other pheasants on the way back to the temporary campsite. You watch as they roast over the fire, yellow flames licking at their lightly charring bodies. Taehyun takes one off, passing it to you on a stick whittled sharp at the end. You shake your head, queasy at the thought of eating it. 

He delivers you nothing but a cold resolve. “Respect its life.” He holds the stick there for you to take once more. 

“I’ll throw up,” you say, shaking your head again and wrapping your arms around your stomach. 

He barks a laugh. “This is ridiculous.” He lets the stick drop back over the fire, and you flinch as embers flurry up into the air and narrowly miss you. Attitude flares up in your chest and you go to say something smart-mouthed, but before you can, he continues, “Go back, if you’re just going to become a waste of my time. You think you’re a spy under The King? You’re a spoiled brat who believes life should be handed to her. If you wanted that, this was not the life to choose.”

You reel at the bite in his voice. His words cut right where it hurts. “You think so?” you say, willing back the hot tears that prickle your eyes. They would only prove his case. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I know that you don’t know shit about being a spy,” he says, standing up. “I know that you’re weak and for some reason think you’re ready for a world that is going to kill you, and that you should probably be on your way back to Homebase to tell them you were never cut out for this. Save us both the time and effort.” 

You’re up to your feet in an eye’s blink, closing the space between you two. “Humans don’t have the privilege of being spoiled brats in your world,” you hiss. The warm sensation of a tear rolling down your cheek has you hoping that he doesn’t notice, and you reach up to wipe it away quickly. You curse being an angry crier. “I’m doing what I can with what I have. Just teach me what I need to learn, and I’ll learn it.” 

“Eat the damn pheasant, then.” he urges, like a wild, roaring beast in a delicate bauble shop. 

You laugh an exhausted laugh. “I’ve never killed something, and then eaten it. It's… I think it’ll take me some time to get used to it. Just give me some time, yeah?” Your mind urges you to scream that the standards he is holding you to are unfair, that the two of you lived very different lives, and that you are going on this mission regardless of his haughty attitude, but you tidy those emotion-fueled words into something that he might like more.

He goes quiet. You sit for a moment, too, stewing in all your rehashed hurt. It isn’t just that he’s treating you like a burden, or the low-blows he seems to keep opting for. He’s unknowingly cutting down to your deepest worries, rubbing salt in the wound, that maybe you are never going to amount to anything more than a servant girl. 

He unsheathes the longsword at his back, getting into a solid stance. “Show me you can be strong, then.” You hesitate. You’ve never so much as swung a sword, and the weight of it is heavier than you’d expect as you unsheathe it. The metal hisses, and the handle of it is solid and plainly decorated in your palm. You replicate his stance, and shift the weight of the sword awkwardly in your hand, trying to find your grip

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you say, palms a bit sweaty against the cold metal, rocking in your stance. He swings hard, and the force of it colliding with your sword jolts you. It flies from your hands. You panic, frozen to the ground as he swings again. Your heart lurches as you realize he isn’t going to pull his swing. 

Wind whooshes as his sword stops just by your face. He leaves it there, pointed right at your nose. “Pick it up,” he cocks his head toward your sword. You stare at him, wide-eyed, as you oblige. You both reset your stance, him barking commands every time he finds your stance or swing to be flawed. You accept his criticism with open arms—it is better than disdain painting his features. 

You grit your teeth. You’re sheened in sweat, tugging for deep breaths, and your limbs are slow to recover from each blow he sends you. You’re twisting, dodging, and parrying how he tells you, but it's sloppy, and you have to summon your energy from already low reserves for each. His skin is irritatingly free of sweat and of a cold and pristine quality. It only comes to your attention now with your new proximity how much looks like frost twinkles just under his skin. 

Your back collides with a tree you had not noticed Taehyun was backing you into, air escaping your lungs in a big whoosh. He gains on you, pressing the long edge of his sword so that it sits mind-numbingly close to your neck. You pulse rushes frantically, heart beating from your chest in a nearly audible thudding. You continue to try and catch your breath. He swoops in so close that his breaths fan over your face. An emotion that you have a hard time reading flickers in his eyes, and then he’s slamming his mouth to yours. 

It’s a desperate clashing of teeth and lips. He lets his sword drop from your neck and to the ground, and he takes your face in his callous-roughened hands. Your own find purchase at his shoulders, tugging him closer as if he could be any more so. The sound that escapes you as his hand tangles into the hair at the back of your head and tightens, tugging your head back and pressing in with more fervor, is like none you’ve ever made before. 

When he pulls back for air, your vision swims around the edges, and is dappled with stars. He studies your face, and you’re suddenly more conscious than ever of how your cheeks burn and your lips are smeared with his kiss. He takes in your debased state. His eyes have more fire in them than you ever thought you’d see—swirling and ravenous, an innate need clawing to reach the surface . It’s a dizzying mixture of pure headiness and I shouldn’t be doing this. He dives back in, and each nip and lick at your neck is blazing. They electrify your veins and send shockwaves buzzing from the column of your throat and through your chest, zipping up and down every one of your limbs. You’re not even sure that, if Taehyun were to stop holding you fast to the tree, you would be able to stand on your wobbly and unreliable legs. 

“Taehyun,” you gasp, your voice sounding not entirely your own. “Taehyun.” 

“You piss me off so fucking bad.” He keeps one hand fisted at the back of your head, exposing your neck to him, but the other travels down your body experimentally. “And I have no idea why.” 

Your mind wants to reel and dwell on that, but he doesn’t let you. He wanders a hand about the hem of your shirt, and then he dares to go underneath it, and then he trails that cold hand up the plane of your abdomen. Your stomach flips. “Have,”–you gasp–“have you considered that maybe you’re just an asshole?” 

He draws back from ravishing your neck to give you a look, his eyes wild and untrained. It feels, for some odd reason, good to break down his impenetrable exterior—to puncture it down to where he is in his basest desires. Maybe it’s because you just need him to see you as something other than useless; to need you so badly that he forgets his contempt for you. He maintains eye contact as his thumb traces the swell of your breast, watches you gasp as he finds your nipple and rolls it under his thumb. His eyes set you ablaze, and he delights in the way you burn. 

“What, you’ve got nothing to say to that?” you say, meeting all the intensity of his gaze the best you can. You try to goad him into something; even if anger, so that he’ll soothe the pounding between your thighs. He does not entertain you, just regarding you with that same blistering intensity. Your scalp begins to ache with the relentless tug of his fist, and you whimper, your hands leaving their place in his tunic to grab at his hand. 

“You’re every bit the whiny brat I’ve known you to be,” he says. His voice is gravelly, as if even those few words were hard for him to formulate. Just as your chest had adjusted to the chill of his palm, he drags his fingertips back down your abdomen. The pads of his fingers rake over you, your skin prickling and alight. 

“And you’ve got every bit of faerie entitlement in you,” you hiss. His hand pauses just above the waistline of your bottoms, and every bit of untamed need carved into his features is dust in the wind within a heartbeat. You reel at the loss of warmth as he pulls away. You try to reach out for him, to tug him back and wipe that awful indifferent look off his face again. But he’s already kicking out the fire and propping himself up against a thick pine tree. Your stomach churns wildly as you set up your own sleeping situation. The silence is worse than any you’ve sat through—it’s charged with words better left unspoken, and heavy with the weight of your hands all over each other seconds ago. 

Sleep does not come easy to you, but when it does, you sleep dreamless and weary.

…🪶ashlynn's note how was thatttt? my first fanfic!! i've been looking forward to doing a high fantasy/faerie fanfic for sooo long. i'm sorry to leave you off like that but.. know that I am plotting, and planning. i'm already working on part 2, so stay tuned!!

﹙🏷️ ﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[thetxtdevil]

Yesss 😈

Thank you @beomiracles 😘

I know I already requested something but I just came up with a specific prompt...

An angsty (maybe tatted) Taehyun who's a smoker and his friend (reader) is totally against it. He asks what else can he be addicted to and,,, well sex 🙂

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... the second you sent this one in I knew it was the one of the two I would pick hehe. sucker for people who smoke, share ur cigs with me (flirting) ─ it might not be as smutty as you wanted but I felt like this is what fit the plot best? :>

not very proofread I fear...

wc -> 1.8k

pairings smoker!taehyun x afab!reader warnings friends to ???, smoking, taehyun has tattoos, references to alcohol, very public fingering, kissing >.<

The loud thumping of music fills your ears as you stumble out of the beating club. The cold night air showering your body in goosebumps; you shudder as you wrap your arms around yourself. Peering out across the dark street, you find a lonesome figure slumped by the side of the road, their back turned to you. 

You stagger over, heels clacking against the pavement. Upon reaching the figure, you slump down next to them, pulling on your heels with a small grimace. “Stupid fucking shoes..” you mutter as you twist the strap around your ankle. The person next to you scoffs, the small action carrying a dark cloud in your direction and you turn to give them a glare. 

“I thought I told you to quit smoking”, you scold as you point an accusing finger in the direction of Taehyun. He merely rolls his eyes as he brings the cigarette to his lips, taking a slow drag. “You did”, he muses as he twists it between his fingers, blowing you another cloud of smoke. Scrunching your nose in disgust you turn back to your shoes as you attempt to pry them off. 

“Piece of shit”, you whine as your fingers slip against the small clasp. Taehyun cocks an eyebrow at you as his gaze drops to your feet, “are you drunk?”, he asks and you frown. “No…tipsy at best!” You state as you use both hands to untie the leather straps of your heels, it takes some effort but at last you get it open. Kicking your shoes off, you sigh as you stretch your legs out in front of you. 

Leaning back on your hands, you let your head fall back as your eyes flutter closed, the smudged makeup on your face shimmering in the moonlight. “You know that shit kills you?” You mutter without looking at him. Taehyun smirks as he shakes his head, “aren’t we all bound to die?” — His words make you snort, “that’s so cliché.” 

He purses his lips as his gaze drifts to the empty road, “thought you liked those?” — You roll your eyes, “yeah, in movies. There’s nothing cliché about dying of lung cancer”, you then state and Taehyun refuses a small chuckle. For a moment everything is quiet, even the loud bass of the club behind you seemed to have died down, the fresh night air slowly began sobering you up. 

“Why do you smoke?” You suddenly ask, part of you wonders why you hadn’t asked that very question years ago. You had known Taehyun almost your whole teens, and up until early adulthood he had always been seen with a cigarette in his hand. Though you had told him off about it plenty of times, you never stopped to ask why he even did it in the first place. 

Taehyun sighs next to you as he takes another drag, slowly letting the polluting air drain down his lungs. He tips his head back as he exhales, “why don’t you?” His countering question made you frown, “because it’s fucking disgusting? And I want to live above the age of 30”, you calmly state, a small pout forming on your lips. 

“That still didn’t answer my question”, you add as your finger taps the pavement behind you. Taehyun hums, seemingly considering his answer carefully. “I suppose I do so because it feels good”, he shrugs and you can’t hold back your scoff. “That’s such a bullshit reason”, you jeered. — “There’s plenty of other enjoyable things.” 

“Like what?” 

His question catches you off guard and you open your eyes as you tilt your head to look at him. You find him watching you with a curious, almost menacing expression, the corner of his lip threatening to curl into a smirk. You blink as your lips part, “well…y’know, stuff.” — “Stuff?” He queries and you feel your already blush painted cheeks redden. “Well yeah…oh come on don’t act like you don’t know”, you retort as you shoot him a small glare. 

Taehyun merely grins as he raises an eyebrow, “I don’t.” — You let out a small huff as you leisurely kick your heels around in front of you. “Well…things like kissing are nice I suppose..” you sheepishly mumble as your gaze remains on your discarded shoes. Beside you, Taehyun seems to consider your words as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek.  Letting his cigarette drop to the ground as he crushes it with the sole of his shoe, causing you to glance in his direction with a confused frown. 

“What are-” 

You don’t get another word out before he leans in so close that you almost forget how to breathe properly. His breath reeks of smoke but you can’t find it in yourself to push him away. “Taehyun..?” You whisper, thinking that maybe you had drank more than you initially thought and that the liquor was playing a cheap trick on you. But his nose grazing yours made everything feel very real. 

His gaze drops to your lips, your lipstick smudged from hours spent on the dancefloor and chugging multiple rounds of shots. “Kissing, you say?” His voice is merely above a whisper and before you know it he presses his lips against yours. 

To kiss Kang Taehyun felt…weird. He had been a part of your life for so long as nothing more than a friend that it had never even crossed your mind what it would be like to have his tongue slide against your own. At the same time you find it hard to push him off, your lips responding against his without hesitation as you wrap an arm around his inked neck. Taehyun’s kisses were sweet, which certainly wasn’t something the multiple tattoos adorning his skin would let on to. 

And suddenly it felt as if you didn’t know him at all. This wasn’t the Taehyun you had called your friend for so many years, the Taehyun you had binged movies with or stayed up late with as you face timed. This was someone completely different, and a small part of you, a very curious part, wanted to get to know him better. 

A rough hand moves down the naked skin of your calf as he squeezes the flesh there, gently spreading your legs as he swiftly slid in between them. “T-Taehyun..” you murmur against his lips, but he doesn’t answer. Teeth clashing together as his chest presses against your sweaty one, you pull yourself from the hot kiss as you pant. Before you, Taehyun licks his lips as his gaze drops to your neck, his eyes roaming over your chest, barely concealed by your small sparkly top. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t gone clubbing together before, he was used to seeing you in revealing clothing. — But something in the air felt different tonight, you almost didn’t recognize the hunger in his eyes as his hand snaked around your waist. 

Soft lips graze along the curve of your neck and your head tips back as you gaze up toward the starlit sky. “The others, Taehyun…” you mumble as you steady your hands on the hard concrete of the sidewalk behind you, “they’ll come looking for us and, o-oh..” His cold fingers creeping up your thigh interrupt any train of thought and your mouth fell open as he brushed them against the lining of your panties. 

“They’re probably wasted”, he scoffs as he dips his fingers inside the thin fabric of your underwear, making you shudder as you bite back a small moan. “M-Maybe but…” The way his index finger circles your clit instantly makes your speech falter and you gasp out into the cold air. “You worry too much”, he grunts against the skin of your neck as he trails his kisses up along your jaw. 

Your brows knit together, “h-ah, do I?” Taehyun doesn’t answer as he pushes a teasing finger inside of your wet cunt, making your thighs wrap around his inked forearm, your skin rubbing against his painted one. His thumb slowly circles your clit as his middle finger dwells deep into your core, drawing a lewd moan from your lips. 

You had often seen him with other girls, just like he had seen you with other guys, it never made you feel particularly jealous, he was only your friend, right? How could you have been so blind to not see what you’d had in front of you all along. Gripping onto his shoulder, your nails sink into the fabric of his t-shirt as your head leans against his chest, his hand between your legs making you feel dizzier than any liquor ever had.

The sound of the door to the club behind you instantly makes you freeze, but before you can turn your head to assess the situation further Taehyun’s mouth is back on yours. Your eyes widened as you tried to pry him off, only to be met by a harsh groan as his hand around your waist pulled you closer. “Don’t turn around”, he murmurs against your lips and you do as he says. 

What had turned out to be a rather drunk couple of friends, muttered a few slurred sentences along the lines of ‘everyone’s got someone to kiss besides us”, before they all staggered down the empty street, brushing the small scene off once more. Seemingly unaware of Taehyun’s fingers deep inside of you. — You let out a sigh of relief and Taehyun pulls back with a small smirk. “Don’t look so smug”, you groan, his thumb on your clit causes a shiver to ripple through you, a small ‘f-fuck’, leaving your lips. 

He manages to coax a small whimper from you as he pushes a second finger inside, feeling you immediately clench around his long fingers. You swallow as your gaze meets his, filled to the brim with desire as he intently watches every change in your expression, from the small twitch of your brow to the way your lips parted. Your makeup too, was most certainly all over the place at this point, but you couldn’t find it in you to care as the familiar feeling surged in your stomach. 

“Fuck, you look fucking gorgeous”, he breathes as his gaze darts down to the way your thighs squeezed around his arm, a small groan passing his lips as you clung to him. With a small cry you shuddered as you came all over his fingers, your essence sliding down his hand as he continued to push in and out of your throbbing cunt, making you wail against the overstimulation. 

Taehyun’s lips are quick to sweep in and catch yours in a searing kiss. “Fuck”, he mutters as he slowly withdraws his hand, smearing your fluids all over your thighs as he squeezed the flesh. He leans back as he watches your dazed expression with a big smirk. 

“This might just top smoking.”

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[flwrstqr]

𓈒 MAYBE ONE LESSON FOR ONE KISS? ˒

── ୨୧ bf!beomgyu x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, one shot, 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 1387 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ my first txt post 🤤😱 but had this idea for like over a year so finally posting it >< ◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

YOU SIT CROSS-LEGGED ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR, nervously plucking at the strings of beomgyu's guitar. the instrument feels awkward in your hands, but his reassuring smile makes it all seem a little less daunting.

"okay, so this is how you play a G chord," beomgyu says, his fingers effortlessly moving into position on the fretboard. you try to mimic his movements, but your fingers fumble and you end up producing a discordant noise.

"ugh, how do you make it look so easy?" you groan, pouting at him. he chuckles, the sound light and musical.

"years of practice," he replies, leaning closer to adjust your fingers. his touch is gentle, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

"see, i'm such a good teacher," he teases, flashing you a playful grin. "you should pay me."

"oh really?" you raise an eyebrow, matching his playful tone. "and what exactly do you want as payment, mr. i'm good at guitar?"

he taps his chin, pretending to think hard about it. "hmm, how about a kiss per hour per lesson?"

you laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up. "a kiss per hour? that's your price?"

"yup," he says, leaning in closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "it's only fair, don't you think?"

your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through your chest. "that's a pretty steep price, don't you think?" you teased, leaning in closer.

he grinned, his eyes locking onto yours. "worth every second."

you closed the distance between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. he hummed contentedly, his hands finding their way to your waist.

"well," you said softly as you pulled away, "alright, fine. but you better make me a guitar pro by the end of this."

he grins wider, his face lighting up with excitement. "deal. now, let's get back to that G chord."

with his hands guiding yours, you manage to form the chord correctly this time. the sound that follows is much better, and you look up at beomgyu, who is beaming with pride.

"see? you're already getting the hang of it," he praises, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "at this rate, I'll be collecting my payment in no time."

you giggle, feeling a surge of affection for him. "i'll hold you to that, bomgyu."

he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss. "i look forward to it," he whispers, before pulling back and picking up the guitar again. "now, let's move on to the next chord."

as the lesson continues, you find yourself more focused on the closeness you share than the guitar itself. by the end of the hour, you're both laughing and exchanging kisses, the guitar lesson becoming a sweet memory you'll cherish.

"see? best teacher ever," beomgyu declares, giving you one last kiss before setting the guitar aside.

"i can't argue with that," you reply, snuggling into his side.

[lovdlydaz]

DEVIL BY THE WINDOW.

incubus!beomgyu x black!afab!reader

“dream on, dream on, good night.”

warnings: smut, p in v but reader can’t get pregnant cuz demon, creampie, fingering, oral (f! receiving) sweet talk, dirty talk, degradation, praise, pain kink, pet names, overstimulation, edging (hardcore edging), a lot of sex js enjoy

a/n: here is pt.1 and pt.2 if you want to check those out. but if not, please enjoy this chapter and thank you again for the endless amounts of support for the other two chapters. love you guys to bits! 💋💋

for all of yesterday, you had felt somewhat serene during your work hours and classes. you had nightly classes while your work was in the morning, so it worked out pretty nicely. the day had gone by extremely fast however, way too fast for your liking. you were enjoying the day, and it was so much better now that your problem was taken care of.

or, was it?

because yet again, at around 2:45 am you woke up to the same uncomfortable and throbbing pain everywhere. however, this time you were able to immediately figure out the pain, and hurried to the bathroom to take care of yourself. you had remembered what soobin told you, and that was you couldn’t get yourself off without a demon’s help, so you just let your panties fall to the floor as you softly stimulate your needy clit.

you let out a loud moan at the feeling of your sensitive clit being touched so sudden, making your body jerk into itself because of it. you continued the stimulation however, since it felt so good and you couldn’t stop it at all. you just felt amazing, yet it was t enough. you knew you couldn’t cum on your own, but just the mere fact that you could touch yourself and feel pleasure was enough to make you keep going.

yeonjun had his little mirror out again, watching your figure jerking and your pretty little head throwing back in pleasure. his cock throbbed and ached in his palm, forcing a soft whine to escape his throat due to how good you felt. your pleasure was increasing and so was his, but he knew he couldn’t cum until one of the boys went up to earth to help you out.

so, not caring to pocket his cock he walked out of his room, going to beomgyu’s room and just standing there, no clothes on. “hey ‘gyu, would you mind going to y/n today? the spell’s getting worse, and this boner cannot last for longer than 5 minutes before i go insane,” he shyly asked, however he was still just letting his meat just hang around like it was nobody’s business. beomgyu looked up, then down, then back up and smirked. “sure yeonjun-hyung, but please go back into your room before you make me get eye cancer,” he joked, yeonjun giggling before waddling back to his room.

it was now 3:33 am, and you had been on the bed just letting the stimulation roll all throughout your veins. you moaned and moaned, more tears rolling down your cheeks from you getting so close then having it stop due to the stupid spell. when you saw yeonjun you were going to milk him the fuck dry, that was for sure. he would have to experience what you felt, however he already did, and was at that moment. you were just hoping one of the demons would come through the window, just any demon, you wouldn’t care. soobin had you feeling like a whore, you couldn’t care less who came through that door. as long as you got the sweet release you so desperately craved for.

it had been another minute or so before you heard it—three raps at your window. you perked your head up and opened the window, allowing the demon to come inside. you wondered who it was this time—however your answer was quickly solved. the incubus stood in front of your window, dark red hair covering his pale red skin. he was a lot lighter than yeonjun; a lot bigger than him too. this demon was lanky but you could see the veins and muscles he had on his body, yeonjun barely had that. you could also see through the copious amounts of layered hair he had, his eyes were a shining blue instead of darkening red. that’s what confused you, but it only made him look prettier to you.

you didn’t even bother covering up this time, you were sure this was another one of yeonjun’s little buddies. and, you weren’t wrong at all, because the demon gave you a courteous bow before staring back at you, pushing his hair back and revealing his baby blue eyes that very much had a glow to them. “hello y/n, my name is choi beomgyu. how do i know your name? yeonjun told me many stories about you. since he can’t be here to help, and soobin can’t either, i’ll be here. are you okay with that?” he asked, not moving in his spot and smiling at you. you nodded at him, which made him smile more but he didn’t move from his spot.

he was the prettiest yet, him and yeonjun competing for first. to be frank, all of the incubi you had met so far were very very handsome hellspawn. he just had that aura around him that gave off sweet playboy vibes, which you really liked. you were throbbing harder now, your arousal hitting the incubus like a truck and making his shorts build a 2-story house in them, if you know what i mean. his blue eyes then turned red, a dark glow emitting from them as his skin turned darker as well. this came as a shock to you, since you had never seen any of the other demons turn darker or their eyes change color because of the arousal they got from you.

beomgyu noticed your shock and chuckled softly, looking down at your naked form. “oh sweet darling, i can tell that you’re shocked. yeonjun and soobin never did this huh?” you shook your head and he chuckled some more. “well, i am a different type of incubus. i appear human when i don’t get any sort of aroused energy from my host, but once i do i turn into well… what soobin and yeonjun look like. neat isn’t it?” he giggled, which only made you react with your legs closing and the soft sound of something squishy was heard as you closed them.

he licked his lips at that, walking closer to you before putting one knee on the bed. he stared into your eyes, trying to search for that approval he needed before he went any further. just a small whimper from you was all he needed before he climbed onto the bed, pinning your body down as he put his hand against his chest. just like that, his clothes were gone. he was rocking a good 9.5 inches with 7.8 girth, he was thick. you had to gulp for a second since he looked so big, so much bigger than soobin. soobin had been the only cock you had taken in a while, so you didn’t know if beomgyu was big enough to fit.

beomgyu looked down at you and noticed your scared expression, putting a hand up to your cheek and pressing his lip out at you. “awh darling,” he cooed, “don’t worry. it’ll fit, trust me,” he spoke matter-of-factly, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before going down, putting his face between your thighs and starting to lick and lap at your clit. you gasped out in pleasure, rolling your hips onto his face and he was instantly pussy-drunk. funny thing about beomgyu was that he was a switch, so he tended to have bottom tendencies when he was supposed to be topping.

you whimpered as he sucked down on your nub, letting his tongue run all over your labia and a little into your hole. he was so good at eating you out, it felt like heaven. that coil was about to snap before he pulled away suddenly, making yeonjun—who was currently fisting the fuck out of his cock—grown with displeasure. you whined desperately, you had already edged yourself enough, this was torture. “ ‘gyu please, already been edged enough,” you sweetly begged, but the plea fell on deaf ears. he was a demon after all, what did you expect? he wasn’t going to have mercy on you.

so, as you tried to complain some more his fingers were shoved deep up into you, and you were already stretched and wet from soobin, so they slid inside easily. he sucked in air and bit his lip, chuckling as he looked down at you. “so stretched just for me darling? what a good girl…” he groaned, pumping his digits in and out of your weeping cunt. you cried out and grabbed onto his arm that was keeping him up on the bed, moaning out in pleasure because of how good it felt to have your g-spot grazed by some thick fingers.

he moved his fingers deeper and deeper inside you, his fingers were so long and it felt so good. you were so close, he was teasing the hell out of you and you did not need that right now. you were clenching his fingers so tightly, he couldn’t help but to bite his lip at it. you were so cute, mewing out in pleasure because of how good he was treating you. he was absolutely loving your reactions, he knew how much you were tortured sexually, but he wanted to torture you even more.

so, moving his fingers out of you you cried out in frustration, tears rolling down your cheeks because you weren’t allowed to cum. the only reason beomgyu was doing this because he knew yeonjun could feel it, and he wanted to torture him by torturing you. he was a hardcore sadist, worse than soobin. he loved watching his partners in pain, but he always made sure it was consensual before anything happened. so your pain was unwanted but you consented to it, and he was going to make sure that your orgasm was going to be amazing.

yeonjun’s cock was throbbing so hard in his palm, small tears welling up in his eyes, and his tears were black since yk, he was a demon. so he threw his head back, groaning in frustration as you cried out to beomgyu. “beom please! p—please! please make me cum— i need it!” you pleaded, but he obviously wasn’t listening. all he was focusing on the way your pussy clenched and unclenched around nothing, god he wanted to fill you up. his cock was pounding right now, pulsating against his stomach because of how hot you were right now. your eyes were blown with lust, sweaty and completely naked, your curves pressing against the sheets as a thin layer of sweat covered your skin.

you were so pretty like this, so desperate for him and he had all the control over your right now. he could leave right now and leave you so needy, so desperate to cum that it would mess with your daily life. he had every piece of control right now, and it fueled his ego to godly amounts. he put a large hand under your chin, forcing you to stare up at him with those pretty e/c eyes of yours. “now, what if i don’t let you cum at all tonight? what would you do then princess? would you be mad? or would you take it like a good girl and let me use you without you feeling pleasure at all?” he sneered, making your cunt throb more as he spoke. all these scenarios were so good to you, but you wanted to cum.

“i’ll take it! i’ll be good! i promise ‘gyu!” you cried out, making him lick his lips and smirk. “that’s my good girl, you deserve to cum. c’mon princess, cum on my cock,” he panted, now pressing his cock against your hole and making your body kneel into itself. you gasped out, moaning loudly as he shoved his whole length inside you, making your eyes roll back and legs shake. he held onto your thighs, flipping you over and forcing you into doggy position. he grabbed a fistful of hair, forcing your head back as he started to pound you at a fast pace. you were already plenty stretched from soobin, and he had prepped you before, so you would be alright.

you mewled and whined, feeling that coil come back even faster this time. you tightened around him, making him pant and gasp as he moved at an inhumane pace. you couldn’t breathe, he was knocking the breath out of you with every thrust. he was going as rough as soobin did, but that was all you needed to cream all around his cock, moaning loudly and rolling your eyes back. your moans were so loud they bounced off the walls, you already had gotten complaints from last night but you could care less. you were happy to get your orgasm, you couldn’t care if the neighbors wanted to kick you out because your moans were better than theirs.

beomgyu fucked you through your orgasm, biting his lip and kissing your neck. “that’s it, that’s my good girl. keep creaming around me, that’s it,” he coaxed you, encouraged you to keep cumming around him. good thing this spell made you more sensitive than you could’ve ever thought.

yeonjun covered his hand in thick creamy cum, rope after rope coming out from your intense orgasm. he moaned loudly, not caring if his roommates heard him enjoying himself. they were demons of lust however, it wasn’t out of the norm to hear moaning coming from their rooms, or multiple moans from different people coming from their room. now the incubus was being overstimulated from you being overstimulated, even after he pulled his hand away from his cock. it throbbed and stayed rock hard, making him whine and whimper as the overstimulation was too much. he was still sensitive from yesterday, moaning loudly because beomgyu knew what he was doing.

you moaned as he continued inside you, reaching your hand down to touch your clit before he slapped it away. “who said you could touch yourself slut? only i can touch you, not you,” he growled, reaching his hand down and slapping your soaked cunt. you whimpered at the harsh contact, it felt too good and you could already feel another coil build up inside you. he could tell by the way you tightened around him again, trying to chase that orgasm that you desperately craved. “awh, pretty baby wants to cum again? too bad.” he said darkly, pulling out and flipping you over again. now you were laying on your back, cunt spasming as you looked up at him.

“i want to make sure you know how to act when terry comes around, because when terry comes to fuck you, he’s not going to hold you back. if you think that i’m being too rough, you’re going to pass out after the first round with him. so, sweetheart, you better take everything i’m giving you, and you’re gonna take it like a good girl. right?” he grasped your neck, softly gripping before making it a little tighter. you nodded your head, gasping for air and your hands immediately shooting up to peel his hand off your neck. “words princess. i can’t hear nods.” he growled, making you moan softly. “y—yes ‘gyu, yes i’ll take it,” you whined out, making him grin and pull his hand away from you.

“that’s my good girl. now let me eat you from behind, wanna taste your cum.” he commanded, you immediately doing the action and getting on all fours, just like he wanted. he licked his lips and went to your folds, pulling them apart and seeing how your pussy was soaked with your cum. he felt himself start to drool as he pushed his tongue out of his mouth, licking a long strip from your hole to your clit. your legs shook as he did so, making him have to hold your legs tighter to keep them from closing. “keep your legs still for me baby, you can do it,” he growled, making you whine as he continued to lick your pussy.

after a minute he pushed his tongue inside your hole, making it long enough to lick against your g-spot. a desperate moan left your lips as he continued, moving a hand up to circle your swollen clit. you came right then and there, covering his tongue in your fluids and him drinking it all up.

once you were finished he pulled his tongue out, pressing his cock against your hole again. “you’ve been such a good girl baby, ready to give me one more before i go?” he asked, almost begging sort of. he was addicted to your taste, absolutely pussy drunk off you that his dominant tendencies were starting to dwindle away. you could care less, you just wanted his cock deep inside your womb. “yea, imma give you s’more, please jus’ fuck me,” you whined, and he didn’t even think twice before shoving himself deep inside your cunt and fucking you senseless.

your boobs bounced and your body shook with each thrust, you could feel him in your guts but that felt like heaven to you. you couldn’t think straight, this was way too much for you. you felt so slutty but you didn’t care at all, all you wanted was for him to keep pounding you and for him to cum inside you. “ ‘m so close baby, cum around me, m-make me cum,” he moaned, putting you into a lazy matting press as his head dipped into the crease of your neck. he left a small hickey there, making you moan as your orgasm came again.

“c—cummin! cummin ‘gyu!” you cried out, squeezing his cock as hard as you could to feel that orgasm roll through your veins. he moaned as he buried himself deep inside you, pumping you full of his steaming hot cum. it took him a while to stop cumming, and once he did he pulled out of you, his cock and your cunt covered in cum. cum leaked out of your hole and you looked so fucked out, so pretty, just for him. he wanted to kiss you but he knew he couldn’t, the friends had all made a vow not to kiss you until yeonjun was able to come and kiss you. until then, they would leave their marks on you, but not directly kiss you.

he put his hand against his chest and his clothes reappeared, his cock softening in his baggy jeans. he looked down at you, putting a hand against your cheek and kissing your cheek, leaving a small heart shape on your cheek that looked very cute on your dark skin. you giggled giddily, making his heart warm. “i have to leave now y/n, sleep well.” he said softly, pulling away from you and opening the window. you were passed out by now, barely able to keep your eyes open to watch him leave. he went through the window and was gone in a flash, nothing but the soft wind of the night heard in your room.

back in hell he walked through the door, this time yeonjun was in the kitchen. when he heard the door open he ran towards beomgyu, giving him playful yet meaningful punches, pouting as he did so. beomgyu laughed and grabbed his hands, holding them in his larger hands. “why so mad, yeonjun-hyung?” he asked innocently, knowing damn well what he did. “why did you edge her for so long?! you know that i couldn’t cum until she came, so what the fuck?” he pouted harder, beomgyu just smiled down at him. “well, maybe it was because i knew you couldn’t cum until she did, maybe that’s why,” he snickered demonically, making yeonjun punch him harder this time.

“ouch!” “you asshole! she was edging herself for an hour beforehand, i needed to cum and you made it worse! thank hades you gave her more orgasms, or you would be sleeping outside or next to our neighbor. you got that?!” he exclaimed, making the taller flinch a little. “alright, alright! i get it, jeez. can’t have any fun around here…” he mumbled, still holding his arm from where he was hit. “now, come eat dinner, it’s your favorite.” yeonjun yelled out to him, the other three already eating at the table and beomgyu’s frown immediately turned upside down. “thanks hyung!”

© gg 2023. dividers were made by me. do not steal, use, or repost my work without my consent. reblogging/interaction is welcomed.

[xumuchluv]

⌞Vague Lines & Blurred Loyalties⌝

Genre: Smut (MDNI), angst, romance Pairing: Ex Yeonjun x Fem Reader Warnings: CAR SEX, Swearing, Fighting, Miscommunication (Ig), arguments, crying (everyone lmao), Little dry humping, Oral (both receive it), Jealousy, kissing, they're a bit toxic, Dom Yeonjun, unprotected sex, teasing, fake dating, hickeys, etc.. Settings: Summer (Bar, Apartment, Parking lot, Car..) Song Recommendation: Again - Noah Cyrus & XXXTENTACION Word Count: 14k

In all honesty, you’re not the type of person to do double dates. So, you had no reason to be in this downtown bar on a sweltering summer night. Yet here you are, waiting for the other couple to join you, and it’s already well past the original meeting time.

“How much longer will they take? It’s already 11 pm,” you inquire impatiently, feeling the sweat bead on your forehead. The oppressive heat of this summer night is almost unbearable, the thick air pressing down on you, making the sticky leather of the bar stool even more uncomfortable.

“Only five more minutes, okay? You can wait five more minutes for me, right? You know how important this is to me.” Beomgyu bends down, brushing a stray strand of hair off your damp forehead, then looks at you with those glimmering puppy eyes. Those damn puppy eyes that convinced you to agree to this whole charade in the first place.

You sigh, feeling the warm air from your breath mix with the heat, and look down in defeat. Beomgyu’s smile broadens, knowing he’s won. He glances toward the entrance of the bar, the neon lights casting a colorful glow on his face.

“Oh, they're here!” Beomgyu exclaims. His words fade into the cacophony of music and cheers that envelop the bar as he goes to greet his friends. You don’t bother turning your head to meet them. They’ll come to your table anyway. You lean your head back, closing your eyes, hoping for a moment’s peace before the inevitable small talk begins.

The heat seems to amplify the sounds around you—the clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversations, the distant laughter. Suddenly, you hear approaching voices mingling with Beomgyu’s loud chatter and lift your head, preparing to greet the couple. Out of politeness, you stand up. However, the sight before you shocks you into sitting back down involuntarily.

“Hello! Nice to meet you. I’m Nari. I’m guessing you’re Y/N?” The girl asks, her voice smooth and friendly. She smiles warmly, but your focus is on the man beside her. Yeonjun. He stands there, an imposing figure, his presence commanding the space around him. The soft glow of the bar lights accentuates his sharp features, and there’s an aura about him that makes the stifling heat feel even more intense.

In your head, Yeonjun and you were like what thorns are to roses, Yeonjun adorned you the same way thorns do to roses. He protected you many times, shielded you from even yourself at times. However, he suffocated you, blocking the outside world from your view. And so the rose had to pluck out the thorns; you had to pluck Yeonjun out of your life.

(And when the rose violently snapped off her thorns, once a part of her, her body released a liquid, blood, to try and soothe her pain. Though, now without her thorns, she still feels the emptiness from the gaps of where the thorns used to decorate her body. But the rose would never admit to that.)

It is safe to say that your relationship ended rockily.

"Y/N? Babe?" Beomgyu snaps you out of your trance. "Sorry, I was zoned out a bit." You smile back at him and stand up. "Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N," you say, fighting the urge to look into Yeonjun’s piercing eyes.

"Beomgyu talks so much about you, I feel like you're my friend as well," Nari says, laughing. She seems so sweet, and you can’t help but examine her. You once used to be as bright as her. You remember when you styled your hair in various ways and wore colourful clothes just like hers. Now, you’re the complete opposite of how you were. All thanks to Yeonjun, and you can’t help but feel bad for her.

“Haha, does he?” You look at Beomgyu as you exclaim that, and he wraps his arm around your neck as he laughs, looking away, supposedly embarrassed. “Well, a friend of Beomgyu is a friend of mine as well,” you giggle.

The group chuckles amongst themselves, but now it’s time for Yeonjun’s introduction. Which Yeonjun seems to lack interest in doing, so Nari kindly chimes in, "Y/N, this is Yeonjun, my boyfriend." You decide to be brave and look him straight in the eyes. He looks just as amazing as you remember. Yeonjun is silent, extending his hand to shake, and utters the quietest “Nice to meet you.” It’s not spewed in a shy tone, but rather an annoyed one. He slightly grits his teeth as he says it. He meets your eyes with ferocity dancing in his eyes, almost matching your own.

His audacity always amused you, so you have no problem reciprocating his manner and shaking his hand. Your lips curl into a slight smile, feeling too natural for your own liking. The handshake is cut short by a subtle yank from your end.

“Nice to meet you too,” you say without faltering your smile.

As the four of you sit down at the table, the feeling of his fingers brushing your palm lingers on your skin. You're reminded of all the other times those fingers touched you, in all kinds of places. You suddenly feel your skin burning with imaginary touches from the man sitting in front of you, and you feel like you need to crawl out of your own skin. Disturbed with yourself for thinking about what you fought so hard to forget.

"Have you guys ever come here before?" Beomgyu asks the couple sitting opposite you. "No, well, Nari and I usually prefer to have dates in more romantic spots. Like the movies or an aquarium, you know?" Yeonjun says rather smugly, lifting his arm to place it around her shoulder.

You chuckle to yourself. Romantic spots? Yeonjun? The same Yeonjun who was always too focused on his games to even take you out? The same Yeonjun who would only take you on unplanned dates, if he took you out at all? Yeah, right.

A scoff escapes your mouth, and you force it into a laugh. “That’s great! Beomgyu and I do the exact same, but we like to experience a different atmosphere once in a while.” You look lovingly into Beomgyu’s eyes. “Right, Gyu?” The nickname rolls off your tongue, and Beomgyu looks a bit taken aback. “Yeah, of course, sweetheart.” You smile and lean your head onto his shoulder.

You chatter amongst yourselves for the remainder of the hour, except Yeonjun and you don’t really exchange words—not directly, at least. Instead, you exchange looks. Both of you can’t seem to help your wandering eyes. He looks just as you left him, but even better than you remember. That’s what time does, you suppose. On the contrary, you doubt he recognizes you as the person to wear your current fashion, nor the person to wear such expressions on your face either. But you suppose that’s what time does.

You’ve never been as clingy toward Beomgyu as you currently are. You’re practically sitting on his lap. However, the same can be said about the couple in front of you. Being as touchy as possible, there’s a silent competition occurring, and you and Yeonjun are the competitors. 

A specific question arouses your interest compared to the blur of the last few minutes. "How did you and Yeonjun meet?" Beomgyu asks. You lean your head in, awaiting her answer.

"Well, Yeonjun and I used to play games together all the time, and when we found out we lived in the same area, we decided to meet up. That was around two years ago, I think. He actually had a girlfriend when we first met in person, but shortly after we met up, they broke up, and that was my chance, haha."

Oh? Oh. So that's why she's familiar.

You met her once. She was gorgeous, but you also remember the huge fight that happened after the meeting. She was acting extra clingy toward him for just a friend, and you did not feel that was appropriate. And instead of reassuring you, Yeonjun just mocked your emotions. So she must be the reason he was always on that game, chatting with her. Suddenly, her laugh is agitating you.

A sense of betrayal washes over you upon learning this information. Yeonjun had many flaws, which you memorised inside the core of your brain ever since your breakup to convince yourself it was the right choice, but being a cheater was a new addition to the list.

You slowly avert your eyes up to Yeonjun’s. He has his body leaned against the wall behind him, and he looks down, meeting your gaze. "Is that so?" you blurt out, interrupting her not-so-little story. "I wasn't aware you enjoyed games that much, Yeonjun. What games other than video games do you enjoy playing? Perhaps mental games?" you spit out, the sharp edge of your words cutting through the air. Only Yeonjun seems to understand your intent.

He looks to the side and chuckles lowly, as if in disbelief over your words. Then he moves his frame onto the table and leans his head onto his hands, mirroring you. "I prefer physical games, actually," he says, emphasising the word "physical." It shouldn't have affected you as much as it did, but it did. Your flushed cheeks shine with a mix of your makeup, oil, and sweat under the dim lights of the crowded bar. You take his advance towards you as a challenge, maintaining direct eye contact with him, facing each other head-on.

The air between you is thick with unspoken words and lingering tension, the din of the bar fading into the background. You feel your pulse quicken, every heartbeat echoing in your ears. The heat of the summer night seeps into your skin, amplifying the flush on your cheeks.

"Okay.. Well, Y/N, I have to go grab something from your car. Could you come with me to get it?" Beomgyu asks, cutting through the electrified silence.

"Mhm," you say lowly, your voice barely above a whisper as you slowly divert your eyes from Yeonjun, reluctantly breaking the intense gaze to follow Beomgyu's figure. Yeonjun's pupils following you as you leave.

Once you step outside, you exhale deeply, taking in lungfuls of the fresh night air. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Beomgyu grabs you by the shoulders, his eyes searching yours with deep concern.

"I don't know if I can continue this, Gyu. I'm sorry," you reply honestly, your voice trembling slightly.

"You seem bothered by something. You surprisingly seem to enjoy acting as if we are dating..?" He speaks with a confused expression, which soon shifts to a satisfied smirk. "Not that I'm complaining though. Nari clearly seems annoyed by it. I just thought I'd be the one initiating all the romantic stuff, y'know?"

The truth is, you and Beomgyu are just friends. His recent ex, Nari, and he have been playing this game of complete idiocy, in your terms. They pretend they're just friends, when they're not. Once Beomgyu found out she had moved on already, he had to see her with his replacement himself. So, Beomgyu suggested a double date. Unfortunately, you had to partake in all this to support your dear friend. He also asked you to act clingy towards himself to elicit a reaction from Nari.

"Gyu there's something you should know." You explain how Yeonjun is your ex, and how you've been extra clingy to make it seem as if you're dating Beomgyu, because you wanted to make Yeonjun feel as though you had moved on completely. You keep it short, not mentioning how you believe Yeonjun cheated on you with Nari.

"Oh... wow," he blurts out.

"Yeah. Oh." You repeat, feeling a bit exasperated after throwing all your words out.

"So... both of us are trying to make our exes jealous?" he questions. You both look at each other, sharing a single brain cell, you think, and then burst into laughter.

"How did we reach this level of desperation?" you laugh out, wiping your eyes from the tears of laughter.

You and Beomgyu decide this is the perfect opportunity to get revenge on both your exes and annoy them as much as possible. You carry out the initial plan and both of you plot to make it seem as if you were making out. You rub your lips and smudge your lipstick, using some of it to rub onto Beomgyu's lips and neck. You prepare a dazed, off-kilter look.

The bar was a stifling cocoon of heat, the air so thick and heavy it felt like it was pressing down on you. As you and Beomgyu stepped back inside, the warmth wrapped around you, but it was nothing compared to the searing intensity of Yeonjun’s gaze locking onto yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into you, a silent challenge simmering beneath the surface. His hand gripped Nari’s waist with a possessive force, fingers digging into her skin as his lips moved against hers with a calculated hunger, each movement deliberate, meant to provoke. The sight sent a jolt of something electric through you, something that made the already heavy air feel suffocating.

You don't know why, but the sight made the bottom of your feet itch to run, the blood in your veins pulse faster, and your hands squeeze shut in anger. Your heart pounds in your ears as a cold fury washes over you, feeling as if your assumptions were proven correct. Still grasping Beomgyu's hand, you walk up to them.

"Oh, sorry, didn’t realise you guys came back already," Yeonjun's voice cuts through the air like a knife, thick with a smirk as he slowly pulls away from Nari’s lips. His tone is casual, but the glint in his eyes is anything but. He’s playing a game—one you’re determined not to lose. You scoff, your chest tightening with a mix of irritation and something more dangerous, something that simmers just beneath the surface.

Nari’s face flushes with embarrassment, a slight tinge of pink crawling up her neck. She shifts uncomfortably, caught in the act. But honestly, what did she expect? Making out with him in public was bound to draw attention. 

You and Beomgyu take your seat on the bar stools.

You weren’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing you falter. You turned to Beomgyu, who seemed almost frozen beside you, his eyes wide with something between shock, jealousy, and anger. "Oh babe, you have something there," you murmured, your voice laced with deliberate sweetness, as you traced your fingers along the marks you had intentionally left on his neck earlier.

You glanced around for a tissue, a small, almost mocking smile curling at the corners of your lips when you found none. Instead, you leaned in closer to Beomgyu, the warmth of his skin radiating against your own, your breath mingling with his. "Excuse me for this," you whispered, your voice dropping into something almost seductive as you pressed your lips against the spot, the heat of your mouth remaining as you licked off the smeared lipstick.

The contact was more intimate than you’d intended, your lips lingering a moment too long, the taste of his skin mixed with the salt of sweat as the heat in the room seemed to only increase. You felt Beomgyu stiffen under your touch, a sharp intake of breath betraying his surprise, his muscles tensing as your tongue traced the curve of his neck, the suction intensifying as you tried to remove the mark, only to replace it with a darker stain—this time unmistakably a hickey.

When you pulled back, you feigned a look of innocent surprise, eyes wide as if you hadn’t meant to leave such a blatant mark. "Oh, oops," you said, your voice lilting with fake carelessness. You caught the way Beomgyu’s pulse was hammering under his skin, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "We’ll just wipe it off later then," you added with a sly, knowing smile, your gaze sliding back to Yeonjun.

In your peripheral vision, you caught the flash of jealousy in Yeonjun’s eyes, his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly, though he tried to mask it with a tight-lipped grin. Nari was no better—her discomfort was written all over her.

The air around the four of you buzzed with unspoken words, each of you caught in this twisted game of one-upmanship, where the lines between past and present, affection and spite, were becoming increasingly blurred. The temperature in the room seemed to rise even higher, the hot air pressing in on all sides as the tension between you all reached a boiling point.

“W-Woahh, uhh, is it just me, or did it suddenly become scorching in here?” Beomgyu’s voice wavers as he fidgets in his seat, tugging at his collar like the air around him had grown suffocating. “Maybe we should ditch this place and head back to my apartment?” he suggests, forcing a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Your apartment?” Yeonjun’s tone is laced with suspicion, his eyebrow arching. His gaze flicks between you and Beomgyu, a smirk ghosting his lips as he adds, “Not ‘our’ apartment?” The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Nari, catching onto his tone, chimes in with a voice that mirrors his, a faint hint of accusation, “You two don’t live together?”

“Uhhh…” Beomgyu falters, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on him. “We don’t. I have a place nearby though. We’re working on moving in together,” you interject, the sweetness in your smile sharp enough to cut. The lie rolls off your tongue with practised ease, but the tightness in Yeonjun’s jaw tells you he’s not fooled.

“And you two?” you continue, your voice deceptively light as you aim to strike a nerve. “Living together already?”

Yeonjun’s response is swift, almost too quick. “We do,” he snaps, his hand tightening possessively around Nari’s waist. There’s a sharpness to his tone that only you can decipher, a silent challenge embedded in his words.

“Wow, that’s fast,” you say. “Considering you only started dating.. two years ago?” The question is a bait, the words dripping with insinuation, daring him to reveal the truth you’ve been suspecting.

Yeonjun’s eyes flash, a storm brewing behind them as he bites out, “She just moved in recently.” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it, a defensiveness that gives him away.

“Must be nice,” you murmur, your gaze locking with his. The air between you heavy, the tension thickening with every passing second. The couple in front of you might be wrapped up in their own world, but the intensity of your silent exchange overshadows everything else in the room.

Beomgyu, trying to change the subject, forces an awkward laugh, his voice unnaturally loud. “Well! Drinks are on me tonight, so let’s grab our last round before heading back to my place!” His attempt to lighten the mood falls flat, the awkward enthusiasm only highlighting the discomfort simmering beneath the surface. However, the four of you play along.

You decide against drinking. The night is volatile enough, and you need a clear head to navigate whatever’s coming next. A bottle of water will be your only companion on the ride back.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu and Nari down shots like they’re desperate to drown their problems, the alcohol flowing as easily as the lies between you all. That leaves you and Yeonjun, the only two sober minds in a room full of vague lines and blurred loyalties.

The night ahead looms large, it’s going to be a long night.

You step into the bathroom, the cool water splashing onto your face doing little to quell the fire simmering in your chest. Staring at your reflection, you force yourself to take a breath, running your fingers through your hair to smooth it back into place. The moment is brief, but it’s enough to regain your composure—enough to prepare yourself to face Yeonjun once more.

When you emerge, the table is empty, the lively chatter of the bar fading into the background as your eyes land on the closed glass door. Outside, you catch sight of Yeonjun, his hand on Nari’s waist, guiding her into his car with that infuriatingly effortless grace. Beomgyu stumbles along, clearly too far gone to even stand straight. A sigh escapes you. Of course, it’s up to you to settle the bill now.

But as you approach the bartender, he informs you that Yeonjun has already paid. The notion grates on your nerves, a bitter reminder of the man you once knew. Always the gentleman, even when you wish he wasn’t. You grab your belongings, your mind racing with a mix of irritation and something more confusing, something you refuse to name.

As you prepare to leave, your gaze catches a small, familiar object on the edge of Yeonjun’s seat—a Polaroid photo. Curiosity tugs at you, and you pick it up, but before you can even glance at the image, a voice cuts through your thoughts.

“I believe that’s mine.”

You whip around, your heart leaping into your throat as Yeonjun stands there, his eyes locking onto yours. You freeze, the photo still clutched in your hand, as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming. The table presses against your back, the wall on the other side boxing you in, trapping you with nowhere to go.

He moves closer still, the space between you shrinking until it’s almost nonexistent. His breath fans across your face, and you can’t help but notice how it quickens in sync with your own. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, each inhale brushing against him, and you know he notices—his eyes flicker down, taking in every detail.

Your heart pounds in your ears, the tension between you taut, electric. Yeonjun leans in, his face mere inches from yours, and for a brief, reckless moment, your mind blanks, lost in the proximity, the heat. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he plucks the photo from your hand, but his gaze never wavers, his dark eyes boring into yours.

The silence stretches, heavy and charged. This close, it’s impossible to ignore the magnetism pulling you towards him, the unresolved emotions crackling like a live wire between you. But this isn’t the Yeonjun you fell for—this is the man who betrayed you.

“I…” Your voice falters, coming out more shaky than you’d like. You try again, mustering a semblance of confidence. “I don’t think Nari would like seeing us this close…”

His eyes flicker to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low, laced with something you can’t quite place. “She wouldn’t.”

And just like that, he steps back, the spell broken, leaving you breathless and reeling. He turns on his heel, heading towards the exit, and the moment he’s gone, you feel the air return to your lungs.

You take a few steadying breaths, trying to slow the frantic beating of your heart. The room feels hotter now, the air thick and stifling, every brush of fabric against your skin suddenly unbearable. You close your eyes, grounding yourself before finally following him outside into the cool night air.

You approach Yeonjun’s car, as you approach you catch snippets of the conversation between him and Nari.

“What is he doing in my car?” Yeonjun’s voice is low, tinged with annoyance as he glances at the backseat. You follow his gaze and spot Beomgyu, sprawled out and sound asleep, oblivious to the world. The front passenger seat, littered with Yeonjun’s belongings, leaves no room for anyone else.

Nari, swaying slightly on her feet, slurs her words, “It’s okay, don’t wake him up. I’ll just go to Y/N’s car since there isn’t enough space in yours.” Her eyes notice your figure, and she smiles brightly, pointing at you.

“There she is!” Nari exclaims, her voice overly enthusiastic, and you feel their eyes on you. The intensity of Yeonjun’s gaze is impossible to ignore as it sweeps over your body, staying on you for a little too long.

“Y/N, please drive me to Beomgyu’s place,” Nari says, her words blending together. “I’m sure you know the way, right? If you don’t, I can tell you because I—”

“There isn’t enough space for both Nari and Beomgyu in my car at the moment,” Yeonjun interjects, his tone clipped as he pinches the bridge of his nose, his other hand resting on his hip in a gesture of frustration. “And Nari insists on leaving Beomgyu where he is. So, you’ll have to take her. I’ll follow you.”

“Oh.” You glance at Nari, her expression loose and unconcerned. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

It’s not fine. You do not want to be stuck with the girl your ex cheated on you with. 

With that, you help Nari into your car, the weight of Yeonjun’s stare still heavy on your back as you slip into the driver’s seat. As you pull away, you catch sight of Yeonjun in your rearview mirror, his car trailing close behind.

The car ride is a relentless stream of chatter, Nari’s drunken rambling filling the space between you. Her words tumble out in a jumbled mess, but you let her talk, relieved she isn’t the crying type. Yet, something she says snags your attention.

“Yeonjun told me you almost saw that photo,” she giggles, the sound annoying you. “It would’ve been really bad for him if you did.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” you demand, your grip tightening on the steering wheel. But Nari offers no reply. You glance over, only to find her eyes closed, her breathing even.

No. You need answers.

You reach over and shake her shoulder, your voice sharp as you call her name. “What did you mean by that?”

She stirs, blinking groggily. “Huh? Mean by what?”

Frustration coils in your chest. Her drunken haze is a barrier you can’t seem to break through, and the urgency gnaws at you. Up ahead, a traffic light turns yellow, and without thinking, you press down on the gas pedal, speeding through the intersection. In the rearview mirror, you catch a glimpse of Yeonjun’s car, stopped at the red light, his face a mask of confusion.

Your pulse quickens, the unanswered question burning in your mind. What was in that photo? Why did it matter so much to Yeonjun? The road stretches out before you, but the only thing you can focus on is the mystery hanging over you like a storm cloud, dark and heavy.

—

Yeonjun slams on the brakes at the red light, the sudden stop jolting him out of his thoughts. He stares ahead, torn between chasing after you and staying put, uncertainty gnawing at him. A thud from the back seat snaps him back to the present.

“Ah... damn it...” Beomgyu groans, his voice muffled as he peels his face off the car’s floor, where he’s fallen in his drunken state.

Yeonjun mutters a curse under his breath, his knuckles white as they grip the steering wheel. He shoots a glance at Beomgyu through the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his ex’s new boyfriend.

“Blame your girlfriend for that,” Yeonjun mutters, unable to keep the venom from his voice.

Beomgyu sluggishly drags himself back onto the seat, his movements slow and uncoordinated. “My girlfriend...?”

Time seems to stretch as the red light stubbornly refuses to change, each second ticking by with agonizing slowness. The tension in the car is thick, the air almost crackling with it. A notification dings on Yeonjun’s phone, momentarily pulling his attention away from the awkward silence.

It’s a message from Nari, and Yeonjun’s brow furrows as he reads it:

‘Stic to right lane & turn right at honey strt’

Yeonjun exhales sharply, the frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. His fingers tap impatiently on the steering wheel, a rapid, nervous rhythm that betrays his inner turmoil. What are you planning?

Beomgyu’s voice, lazy and taunting, cuts through the tense silence. “You know, I’ve only seen Y/N speed through this stop a few times...”

Yeonjun’s gaze shifts to the rearview mirror, locking onto Beomgyu’s reflection. The younger man’s smirk is infuriatingly smug, a glint in his eyes.

“It only happens when she’s in a rush... to get to my apartment.” Beomgyu’s voice drops lower, more suggestive, as he leans back, spreading himself comfortably across the seats. “When she’s in a rush to feel me... on her.” He pauses, watching as Yeonjun’s chest rises and falls with controlled breaths. “...in her.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and provocative. Yeonjun’s jaw clenches, the muscles ticking with barely restrained fury. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles almost popping, the pressure enough to shatter it. The intensity in his eyes as they meet Beomgyu’s in the rearview mirror is scorching, a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

“If... you know what I mean,” Beomgyu adds, his tone dripping with a taunt that cuts deeper than any blade.

Yeonjun’s eyes burn with an icy fire as he stares Beomgyu down, a challenge hanging between them like a drawn sword. The tension is like a bomb, vibrating with the threat of explosion, each man’s pride and desire for dominance clashing in the confined space of the car.

But then, a sharp honk from the car behind shatters the moment, dragging Yeonjun back to the harsh reality of the situation. He blinks, the connection between them severed, and with a muttered curse, he presses down on the gas pedal, hard, as the light finally turns green.

—

Nari’s voice cuts through the atmosphere in the car, her words slurred but her concern evident. “Woah, Y/N, what the hell?” 

"Please text Yeonjun to stick to the right lane throughout the entire road until he reaches 'Honey' street, where he'll need to take a right turn to arrive at Beomgyu's apartment parking." You give her instructions, sounding formal from restraining your true feelings at the moment.

She fumbles with her phone, her drunken fingers struggling to tap out a coherent message. 

‘Stic to right lane & turn right at honey strt’, she manages to sent Yeonjun.

Your mind is elsewhere, clouded with doubt and anger. “You mentioned something earlier... about how it would’ve been bad for Yeonjun if I saw that photo. Why?” Your voice is strained, and without thinking, you wrench the steering wheel to the left, taking a detour that gives you more time for your discussion.

Nari yelps, gripping the seatbelt as the car swerves. “Y/N!” Her voice is tinged with fear, but you barely register it. All you can think about is that photo—what it could mean, what it could reveal.

“Nari,” you snap, your voice tight with desperation. “Tell me right now! Is it a photo of you? Of you two while he was still with me? Is that why it would’ve been bad for him? That bastard!” Your voice breaks, tears stinging your eyes, blurring the road ahead. You blink rapidly, trying to focus, but the emotions are overwhelming.

But instead of the answer you dread, Nari’s laughter fills the car, light and almost mocking. “Y/N... I know you and Yeonjun dated,” she says, her tone a strange mix of amusement and sympathy. “But do you really think he cheated on you? With me?” She pauses, letting the question hang in the air. “It’s a photo of you, Y/N. He shouldn’t be carrying around a picture of his ex while he’s dating someone new, right? That’s why it would’ve been bad for him.”

Her words hit you like a truck, leaving you momentarily breathless. You slow the car, the confusion and shock twisting your stomach into knots. What? That was the last thing you expected her to say. You roll down the window, letting the night air wash over you, trying to calm your racing heart. “Nari... I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Nari sighs softly, her gaze distant as she stares out the window. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Just... don’t tell Yeonjun I said anything, okay?”

“Yeah... of course,” you murmur, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

The rest of the drive is suffocatingly quiet, Nari’s gentle snores the only sound as you’re left alone with your swirling thoughts. The earlier confusion and the anger all blend into a chaotic mess in your mind.

You finally pull into the parking lot, spotting Yeonjun leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He straightens up when he sees you, his eyes narrowing slightly.

You step out of the car, gently helping the now nearly unconscious Nari out as well. There's a silence between you and Yeonjun, as he watches you with an inscrutable gaze.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, his tone laced with irritation. He rolls his eyes, but you don’t rise to the bait, too drained to engage.

“Where’s Beomgyu?” you ask, ignoring his remark.

Yeonjun’s jaw tightens slightly, but he answers, “He went up to his apartment.”

You nod, guiding Nari towards the building, your mind still reeling from everything that’s happened. But one thing is clear—you’re not done with this conversation. Not by a long shot.

-

Finally, after what feels like an endless climb up the stairs—thanks to the conveniently broken elevator—you reach Beomgyu’s floor. Each step was a reminder of the weight of the night, and you can’t help but let out a breathy, victorious "fucking finally" as you clutch your knees, trying to steady your racing heart. You open Beomgyu’s unlocked door, your hand trembling slightly from the adrenaline over climbing too many steps in a short amount of time.

Yeonjun steps in, carrying Nari effortlessly, with a strong frame. The apartment is cozy, with just enough space for two, yet the intimacy of the setting only adds to the suffocating tension. His eyes sweep over the place, lingering on the personal touches—Beomgyu’s little marks of comfort and style. The kitchen, neat and orderly, the living room inviting with its well-worn sofas surrounding a central table atop a small circular carpet, and finally, his gaze drifts to the door on the right, presumably leading to the bedroom.

You watch him as he gently lays Nari down on the nearest sofa, his movements careful, deliberate. He then returns to the entrance, his hands slowly working on the laces of his shoes, almost like he’s stalling. When he slips off his jockey university sweater, the air seems to thicken, and you can’t help but trace the contours of his body with your eyes, quickly averting them when you feel your cheeks burn with memories better left forgotten.

The room suddenly feels too small, too intimate. Here you are, after everything, sharing the same space as Yeonjun in Beomgyu’s apartment. The thought makes your stomach churn. You shake your head, trying to refocus. Beomgyu—where was he? You need to find him, cling to the present to avoid drowning in the past.

You move towards the bedroom, the light already on, spilling out into the hallway. “Beomgyu? Are you there?” Your voice echoes softly, breaking the stillness.

A response comes from the bathroom, on the right of the room, his voice familiar yet strained, “I’m here…”

Relief washes over you, and you step inside, your earlier tension momentarily forgotten. “You know, it's kind of rude to leave your guests—” The words die in your throat as your gaze lands on Beomgyu, shirtless, hunched over the sink, struggling to apply ointment to a nasty, jagged scratch running down his back.

Your breath hitches as you take in the scene. The sight of him, vulnerable and hurt, ignites a surge of concern that pushes aside everything else. You approach him slowly, your earlier bravado slipping away, replaced by something gentler. “What… happened?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, laced with worry for your friend.

Beomgyu’s reflection in the mirror meets yours, a faint, tired smile tugging at his lips. But it’s the pain in his eyes that catches you off guard, making your heart clench.

“Gyu... what the hell happened?” The words slip out in a frantic whisper as you rush over to him, grabbing the ointment from his trembling hands.

“Nothing,” he mutters, a scoff barely masking the pain in his voice. His eyes are downcast, avoiding yours as if hiding something. You gently begin to apply the ointment to his raw, sensitive skin, your hands trembling slightly as you try to be as careful as possible. But Beomgyu doesn’t even flinch, his body numbed either by alcohol or something far deeper.

“This is not nothing, Beomgyu,” you say firmly, your voice stern with concern. The thought of what—or who—could have caused this flashes through your mind, and an image of Yeonjun surfaces, dark and accusing. A surge of anger pulses through you. Could he have done this? You turn, eyes blazing with determination. “Did Yeonjun do this to you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes roll in exasperation, his head tilting back slightly as if he’s exhausted by the question. “I told you, I don’t care about this scratch, okay?” His voice is flat, devoid of its usual spark, as he pushes himself off the sink and saunters towards his closet, passing by you, searching for a shirt.

You follow him, not willing to let it go, your heart pounding in your chest. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yeonjun standing near Nari, as he hands her a drink you can only assume is water to sober her up, removing a bottle of wine from her other hand. You lower your voice, trying to keep the conversation private. “Beomgyu,” you press, your tone urgent and low, “Did Yeonjun do this?”

“Ugh, yeah, he did, but it’s not what you think. I’m not even mad about it—”

“I hate him.” The words spill out before you can stop them, your voice quivering with raw emotion. You turn on your heel, ready to storm out and confront Yeonjun, the adrenaline surging through you like fire. But Beomgyu’s hand catches your arm, his grip firm yet pleading.

“Y/N, stop,” he says, his voice cutting through your anger like a knife. “It was my fault. I riled him up... it’s complicated.” His eyes drop, the weight of whatever he’s holding back pulling him down.

Your anger deflates, replaced by a heavy sadness. You move closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm, your mind racing to piece together what could have driven Beomgyu to such a state. “Is it... Nari? Is that what this is about?”

At the mention of her name, his expression crumbles, the facade he’s been holding up finally breaking. His shoulders slump, and he nods, the pain evident in every line of his face. “I think it’s over... between us. She seems to really have moved on.” His voice is barely a whisper, thick with unshed tears as he clings to your arm.

You remember Nari’s words in the car about Yeonjun keeping a photo of you. The thought of it makes your heart twist in your chest. How could they be in a genuine relationship if Yeonjun hasn't let go of the past? “Don’t be so sure, Gyu,” you murmur softly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you turn to him. There’s a flicker of hope in your chest—hope for Beomgyu and Nari, though you’re unsure what it means for you and Yeonjun.

Beomgyu looks up at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his vulnerability laid bare. “What makes you say that?” he asks, his voice trembling with both fear and hope.

You smile down at him, tenderly wiping away a tear that escapes from the corner of his eye. “Just trust me,” you whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter closed at the contact, and you pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his head, cradling him like something precious. “You’ll see, Gyu,” you murmur, swaying gently back and forth, trying to soothe the storm inside him.

You hear a cough behind you and turn to find Yeonjun and Nari standing awkwardly in the doorway. Their presence feels like an intrusion, but you quickly move away from Beomgyu, who hastily wipes away any lingering tears, trying to compose himself.

"Um, I kind of made a mess outside and... was wondering if I could use your shower?" Nari asks, her voice small and hesitant as she clutches her soaked shirt. It’s only then that you notice the wine stains covering her clothes. Yeonjun, on the other hand, looks dry, but his eyes are averted, and he huffs before turning and leaving the room without a word.

"Yeah, of course," Beomgyu responds, standing up to lead Nari to the bathroom. You decide to give them some space, hoping that maybe this moment alone is what they need to work things out.

As the door closes behind them, the apartment falls into a heavy silence, broken only by the distant murmur of Beomgyu and Nari’s voices. You turn back to the living room and see Yeonjun bent over, scrubbing a wine stain off the floor. Relief washes over you that the spill didn’t hit the carpet or the couch, but then your eyes land on the table—your paper, drenched in crimson liquid.

“No...” You rush over, your heart sinking as you pick up your soaked assignment, trying to salvage what little remains. The paper disintegrates in your hands, the ink smudging and bleeding until there’s nothing left but a soggy mess between your fingers. The frustration and anger bubble up inside you, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to hold back on your anger.

When you open them, you see Yeonjun, still cleaning, completely ignoring your disaster. You didn’t expect an apology, but his indifference stings more than any words could. And perhaps you mixing your own personal emotions when you said your next words, but they had come out more hurtful than intended.

“Hey, jackass.” The words fly out of your mouth, sharp and biting, aimed at Yeonjun’s turned back. He stops and slowly turns to you, his expression one of mild annoyance. He doesn’t say anything, just waits for you to continue.

“Were you just standing there like a useless idiot when she knocked over the wine?” you snap, your voice dripping with contempt.

Yeonjun scoffs, his eyes narrowing as he straightens up and takes a step towards you, the air between you crackling with unresolved feelings. He doesn’t speak, just watches you, his gaze challenging and unyielding.

“Are you mute as well as useless?” you bite out, your anger flaring as you meet his eyes, refusing to back down. His silence is infuriating, and you can feel the rage boiling over, threatening to spill out in ways you can’t control. In the background, you hear the bathroom shower begin, the sound pulling you back to the present moment, grounding you in the here and now. And right now, you were angry.

“Fuck’s sake!” You slam your hands down on the table, the impact sending droplets of wine splattering across the surface and onto your hands, staining them red. “I’ve been trying so hard to be civil with you, but you don’t even try. You’re just... unbearable.” Your voice cracks with frustration, the words spilling out in a torrent of pent-up emotion.

Yeonjun lifts an eyebrow, a smug expression creeping onto his face, as if he’s amused by your outburst. That look—the one he always gives when he thinks he’s above it all—pushes you over the edge.

“And that!” you hiss, leaning in closer, pointing a trembling finger at him. “That exact face you make when something doesn’t please the almighty Yeonjun. You’re a fucking bastard, Yeonjun. You lie, you fight, you ruin everything good, and you cheat.”

At this, he grabs your hand, his grip firm. “Cheat?” His voice is low, dangerous, his eyes burning into yours with a mixture of anger and disbelief. “For fuck’s sake, Y/N, you broke up with me. Didn’t even have the decency to tell me why. And now you’re here, accusing me of cheating? Is that really why you left me?”

You glare back at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, it wasn’t. But I’m sure you did, Yeonjun. With Nari.”

His face falls for a split second, the anger faltering as a flash of hurt crosses his features. He stumbles back slightly, his hands dropping to his sides. “Wow...” he breathes, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “This is just... great.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, before shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah, I’m not dealing with this shit.” He grabs his keys and wallet off the table, heading for the door with long, angry strides. The door slams behind him with a force that reverberates through the apartment, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, reeling from what just happened.

“Fuck...” you whisper to yourself, the weight of the argument settling on your shoulders. You know you should just let him go, but something inside you refuses to leave things like this. Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you rush after him, leaving behind your pride. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to hear his side of the story.

As you hurry down the stairs, your footsteps echo in the stairwell, amplifying your growing desperation. You spot Yeonjun far ahead, his figure a shadow in the dimly lit space. “Yeonjun!” Your voice is firm, laced with the urgency of everything unsaid. But he doesn’t respond, his pace steady and unrelenting.

Bursting out of the building, you speed-walk after him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeonjun!” you shout, your voice cracking with frustration and anger. He continues to ignore you, his focus entirely on his car as he throws his belongings into the passenger seat with a controlled fury. You scurry over, desperation driving your steps, and grab his arm just as he reaches for the door handle. “Yeonjun…”

He shakes your hand off with a harsh flick, his movements sharp, and slides into the driver’s seat. You move without thinking, planting yourself directly in front of his car, the headlights casting long shadows behind you. The weight of your actions hits you as he honks, the sound jarring in the empty parking lot.

You’re the one who ended it, so why are you here now, standing in his way, demanding answers you thought you never wanted before?

With a final, angry honk, Yeonjun’s patience snaps. He explodes out of the car, slamming the door so hard the sound echos in the parking lot. His eyes blaze with barely contained anger as he strides toward you, his hands gripping your arms with a force that borders on painful.

“YN, seriously. What do you want?” His voice is a low growl, each word dripping with the frustration and pain he’s held back for too long.

“Yeonjun, I just want to hear your side.” Your voice trembles, your previous tone slipping away as the reality of the situation crashes over you.

He pauses, another bitter laugh escaping his lips as he looks down, shaking his head. “My side?” His voice is laced with incredulity. “You’re two years late, YN.”

Desperation claws at you. “Then tell me now—did you cheat on me with Nari?”

His gaze snaps back to you, eyes narrowed. “No. And for fuck’s sake…” He looks away, running a hand through his hair, the movement jerky, frustrated. “We’re not even dating, YN. She’s just a friend. Believe that or don’t—I don’t care anymore.” His voice drips with a mixture of exhaustion and disdain. “Happy now?”

“Yeonjun…” The word is a broken whisper, a mix of confusion and the lingering echoes of mistrust.

He whips his head back towards you, the anger flaring up again. “YN, you don’t get to say my name. Not.. like that. Not anymore.”

“But, Yeonjun—” You’re cut off by the intensity of his gaze as he takes a deep breath, his hands trembling as they reach for your face. He hesitates for a moment before cradling your cheeks gently, a stark contrast to the turmoil in his eyes.

“No, YN, you don’t understand.” His voice cracks, the anger giving way to a raw, vulnerable pain that takes you by surprise. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through these two years? After you?” His words hang in the air, each one weighted with years of buried emotions. “Do you know that after you just deserted me like we were nothing, I locked myself away for weeks? Do you know that, YN?” His voice rises, the tears welling up in his eyes breaking free.

You feel your own tears threatening to spill over as you listen, the weight of his pain crushing you. “Do you?” he presses, his voice dropping to a whisper, as though the admission itself is too much to bear. “Of course you don’t. You blocked me on everything. You erased me from your life as if we never existed.”

A tear slips down his cheek, and he quickly wipes it away, his composure crumbling. “I know I wasn’t perfect. We weren’t perfect. But we were trying, we were learning. And then you just gave up. You gave up on us, on me.”

His breath is warm against your face, contrasting sharply with the cool night air. “I’d like to know your side, YN. Why? What made you break up with me?”

Your eyes blur with tears, each blink sending droplets cascading down your cheeks. His face is so close now, his presence overwhelming. “Hm?” he murmurs, his voice softening as he leans in, his lips brushing the side of your cheek in a featherlight kiss. “Why?”

He moves across your face, leaving a trail of kisses, each one a question, each one a plea. “How?” Another kiss, his breath hot against your skin. “How could you leave me for that kid?”

Your mind races, the past and present colliding in a storm of emotions. You should answer him, give him the closure he deserves, but your voice is trapped in your throat. You realize now that you were wrong—so wrong about Yeonjun.

He pauses, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath mingling with yours. His large hand snakes around your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. He holds you there, his grip firm but gentle, as if afraid that letting go would mean losing you all over again.

Yeonjun’s voice drops to a whisper, his eyes searching yours with a tenderness that’s almost heartbreaking. “Tell me, YN,” he pleads, his gaze locked onto yours, desperate and vulnerable. The world around you seems to pause as you both stand there, holding onto each other like lifelines, lost in the moment.

Just as you gather the strength to answer, Yeonjun shakes his head, a pained expression crossing his face. “No... actually. I don’t want to know. I don’t care,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. The abrupt change in his demeanor leaves you confused, your eyebrows knitting together as you try to process his words.

“Just tell me one thing,” he whispers, his breath hitching as he stares at your lips, then flicks his eyes back to yours. “C-can I kiss you?”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at something deep within you. “Jun…” His name falls from your lips, barely audible, as if you’re testing the sound of it. You clear your throat, trying to steady yourself. “Yeonjun,” you breathe. You look into his eyes, seeing beyond just your reflection and his dark magnetising pupils, and into the raw, unfiltered desperation. Yeonjun truly loves you—there’s no denying it now.

You inhale sharply, the reality of the moment crashing down on you. “Y-yes,” you whisper, the word barely escaping your lips, but it’s enough.

Before you can take another breath, his lips crash into yours, and the world around you disappears. The kiss is urgent, almost frantic, as if he’s afraid this moment will slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. There’s no grace in it—only raw emotion, the kind that has been building for years, waiting to burst.

You melt into him, savouring everything about him—the taste of his lips, the scent of his skin, the way his body presses against yours with both tenderness and urgency. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

The kiss intensifies, becoming rougher, more desperate, as if the years apart have created a hunger that neither of you can control. His hands move with a purpose, lifting you effortlessly onto the trunk of his car, the cold metal beneath you a stark contrast to the heat of his touch.

Everything is happening so fast, too fast, but your body reacts instinctively, arching into him as he presses against you, his hips grinding into your clothed core. A gasp escapes your lips, breaking the kiss, but he doesn’t stop. His mouth trails down your neck, leaving a burning path of kisses and fresh red marks that make your skin tingle.

“Junnie…” you breathe out, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions—desire, uncertainty, and the lingering fear that this might not be the way to mend what was broken. But Yeonjun is relentless, his focus entirely on you, on this moment, as if nothing else matters.

You’re caught in the whirlwind of his passion, your thoughts spinning as fast as your heart. Is this the right way to rekindle what you once had? The question lingers in the back of your mind, but it’s drowned out by the intensity of Yeonjun’s determination. He’s here, he’s real, and right now, he’s all that you can think about.

Yeonjun’s breath hitches as he presses closer to you, his voice dropping to a low, desperate whisper. “YN, I need you... fuck,” he groans, the hardness beneath his pants pressing against you as his hand slowly slides up your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His lips pause against your skin, and he murmurs, “Need you to say you need me too.”

Your mind is hazy, drunk on the intoxicating feel of his lips worshipping every inch of you. The words barely escape your mouth, a soft, breathless, “Need you too,” as your fingers tangle in his hair, nails gently raking over his scalp, eliciting a low hum of satisfaction from him.

His grip tightens around your legs, guiding them to wrap around his waist with a possessive urgency. “No need to be so shy,” he whispers, the corner of his mouth curling into a playful smirk that you can feel against your skin as he peppers your face with kisses. In one swift motion, he lifts you effortlessly and opens the back passenger door, the cool night air brushing against your heated skin.

Clinging to him tightly, he gently lays you down on the seat, your back sinking into the plush leather. Your eyes drift over his body, taking in every detail—the veins standing out against his skin from the strain of holding you, the way his hair sticks to the beads of sweat on his forehead. Your hand reaches up, brushing his hair back, leaving it slightly slicked as he kisses his way down to your collarbone, his tongue tracing circles that make you squirm beneath him.

He finally pulls back, his eyes dark and intense as he studies your face, his arms braced on either side of you, framing your face. For a moment, he just watches you, a strand of his hair falling out of place, and it’s the second hottest thing you’ve ever seen. The first is the sight of him as he pulls away, sitting up, leaning back against the window with his legs spread wide, his gaze smouldering as he taps his lap, silently inviting you to crawl over and cradle him.

But you’ve got something better in mind. Words fail you, but your actions won’t. You sit up slowly, turning to face him before lowering your upper body, arching your back and lifting your hips as you move toward his lap.

Yeonjun’s eyebrow arches in surprise, a smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you. “Wanna make you feel good, Junnie,” you coo, your voice soft and teasing as you gaze up at him through your lashes. The sight of you like this makes his heart race, his pulse quickening as his desire for you intensifies.

You lick your lips, the anticipation building as you balance yourself on his lap, your fingers deftly undoing his belt. Your eyes never leave his, the connection between you electric as you slowly slide his pants down, your gaze locked on his, every movement deliberate and charged with tension.

As you slide his pants off, your eyes widen at the sight of him. His hardness stands tall, pressing against his stomach, a stain of wetness seeping through the fabric of his boxers by his tip. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you reach out, your finger lightly brushing the spot where he’s leaking. He hisses, his eyes locked on yours, watching your every move with an intensity that sends a thrill down your spine.

You trace the outline of his length with your fingernail, feeling the hard, pulsing veins beneath the thin fabric. The sensation drives him wild, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. You press down, earning a chorus of hisses and groans that only fuel your desire. Your palm flattens against him, moving slowly over the length of his boxer-clad heat. You can’t help but lick your lips, practically drooling at the thought of having him in your mouth.

Lifting your thumb, you press it against his tip, feeling the warmth and wetness beneath. But before you can go further, his hand snaps to your wrist, gripping it tightly as he lets out a low, guttural groan. “Stop playing,” he growls, the sound rough and commanding, sending a shiver of excitement through you.

You smirk, your eyes sparkling with mischief, and he knows exactly what you’re thinking. Slowly, teasingly, you lower your hands to the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. Your eyes dilate at the sight before you—his full length, hard and ready, standing proud.

Wasting no time, you wrap your hand around him, feeling the weight and heat of him in your grasp. You pump him a few times, eliciting a deep groan from his throat, before you lean in, your tongue darting out to gently flick across his tip like a teasing kitten. The sensation is too much for him to bear, and his hands fly to your hair, tangling in the strands.

When you take him fully into your mouth, enveloping him in your warm, soft lips, he loses control. His grip on your hair tightens as he lets out a strangled gasp. “S-shit,” he stammers, his voice strained with pleasure. “Only I should see you like this, hm?” His hands tug at your hair, lifting your head so he can look into your eyes, the intensity of his gaze nearly overwhelming.

You groan deeply, the sound vibrating through your body and into his, drawing a low moan from Yeonjun. Your tongue works expertly around his length, flicking and swirling over the sensitive head, teasing the skin where it meets the shaft. With Yeonjun’s impressive size, you’re able to take him into your mouth while your hand wraps around the base, moving in sync with your mouth in smooth, circular motions. Your wrist twists with each stroke, ensuring he feels every bit of your attention.

The car fills with a symphony of lewd, wet sounds—the slickness of your efforts combined with his, the steady rhythm of sucking, and the occasional slurp as you work him over. It’s a soundscape pulled straight from the most explicit fantasies, made even more intense by his deep, throaty groans and the filth he whispers under his breath. Your own body responds involuntarily, heat pooling between your legs, your core aching with need, practically dripping from the sheer eroticism of the moment.

“Uhhh, fuck… I’m… fucki-ng close,” he pants, his voice strained with pleasure. He squirms slightly, adjusting his position as he grips your head with a possessive intensity. Despite the pressure, the fact that he’s now thrusting into your mouth keeps you steady, your focus entirely on him.

Yeonjun shifts, planting one knee on the leather seat between your legs for balance while the other foot remains on the floor. You instinctively adjust as well, spreading your knees wider, your toes curling as they press into the seat beneath you. Your upper body remains steady as he takes control, thrusting faster and deeper, each movement more urgent than the last.

“Does… he—” He grunts, thrusting sloppily, “Does his cock taste… or feel half as good as mine?” The words are edged with jealousy and possessiveness, but you’re unable to respond, your entire mouth and throat occupied by his cock. Your hands clutch at his bare thighs for support. Your glossy eyes meet his, tears threatening to spill as his length hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly. He looks down, his expression one of dominance, searching your eyes as if expecting an answer, though he knows you can’t give one.

“Thought so,” he murmurs, smirking at his own satisfaction, his voice dripping with self-assurance. A low, breathless laugh escapes him. “Fuuuuck…” The syllables draw out, his head falling back as his movements grow more erratic and sloppy. “Take your shirt off, now,” he demands, his voice rough with need.

Without hesitation, your hands move faster than your thoughts, peeling the fabric from your body. As you lift your shirt over your head, his length slips from your mouth with a distinctive ‘pop,’ leaving you breathless. You toss the shirt aside, quickly unclipping your bra, letting it fall to the floor of the car.

Yeonjun’s eyes are locked onto you, his hand furiously pumping himself, his breathing ragged as he watches. With a few final strokes, he comes undone, his release shooting out in thick, warm spurts onto your bare chest. The force of it has him throwing his head back, a loud, extended “fuck” tearing from his throat as his body shudders with the intensity of his climax.

Visibly spent but far from satisfied, Yeonjun’s dark, lustful gaze locks onto your cum-streaked body, his breath heavy and ragged. You expect him to take a moment to recover, but instead, he commands through his labored breaths, “Undress. All of it.” His voice is low, dripping with desire, sending a shiver down your spine.

Driven by the hunger in his eyes, you quickly discard your pants, leaving only your underwear clinging to your skin. Meanwhile, Yeonjun tears off his shirt, revealing his sculpted, sweat-slicked torso. As you finish, he’s already on you, your bodies colliding, sticky with sweat and remnants of his release. His arms encircle you tightly, his intense gaze boring into yours as he lowers you onto the seat, his body hovering, exuding dominance.

The moment his weight lifts from you, the cum that once joined your bodies drips back onto your chest, and you catch the glint of dark amusement in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he dips his head, tongue darting out to gather his droplets, then hovers above you. His fingers gently pry your lips open, and he lets the cum drop from his mouth onto your outstretched tongue. “Taste me,” he whispers, the command seeping into your skin as his mouth crashes onto yours, deepening the connection in a slow, fervent kiss.

His hand slides up your body, smearing the evidence of his release over your skin. The warmth of his palm, the deliberate pinch of your nipple, sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you arch into his touch. He breaks the kiss, moving his mouth down your chest, his tongue and lips worshipping your flesh, savoring the mixture of sweat and his essence.

Each flick of his tongue over your nipples, each gentle tug, ignites a fire within you, leaving you squirming beneath him. But his firm grip on you ensures your movements are minimal, controlled, just as he likes it. His lips continue their descent, marking your skin with purples and reds, a visual testament to his possession.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the skin just above your underwear, “how much I missed this.” His words, coupled with the sensation of his mouth and hands, make you whimper, your desire pooling between your thighs.

As his face reaches your thighs, he kisses the tender flesh there, his hands caressing you, teasing you. When he finally positions himself over your core, his eyes meet yours with a devilish smile, and without another word, he lowers his mouth to your most sensitive spot.

Yeonjun’s tongue flattens against your soaked underwear, teasing your core with deliberate, languid strokes. His mouth explores every contour of your folds, shaping them with expert precision, each movement sending a ripple of pleasure through your body. A helpless whimper escapes your lips, your breath hitching as his tongue presses firmly against the center of your desire. He pushes against your entrance, the fabric of your underwear creating a tantalising barrier, before he uses the hard edge of his bottom teeth to graze upward along your sensitive flesh, drawing out a sharp gasp from you.

You can’t help but lower your gaze, watching him intently, eyes locked on his every movement. He meets your gaze, his eyes dark with lust, as he takes the waistband of your underwear between his teeth, slowly pulling them down, the fabric dragging across your skin until it’s finally discarded with a flick of his head. The sight of him, smirking with your underwear still between his teeth, sends a shiver down your spine.

Without hesitation, he dives back between your thighs, his tongue finding its way to the inside of your folds, massaging them with a fervor that makes your entire body quake. He licks and flicks at your entrance, his tongue reaching deeper than you thought possible for a tongue, drawing out moans and gasps from you. His rough thumb finds your clit, rubbing it with just enough friction to make you writhe beneath him. The dry texture of his thumb against your sensitive bud amplifies every sensation, and your legs instinctively lift, disrupting his rhythm.

But Yeonjun’s resolve is unwavering. His strong hands grip your thighs, pinning them in place as he growls a warning, “Stay still, sweetie.” His voice is thick with desire, his focus entirely on pleasuring you. “Mhm and how sweet you taste,” he murmurs against your skin, making your face flush with heat. You turn your head to the side, embarrassed by his praise, but unable to suppress the pleasure coursing through you.

His tongue circles your clit with calculated pressure, and you become a moaning mess beneath him. Just when you think you can’t take any more, he slides a finger inside you, his touch skilled and unyielding. “Can’t believe someone else heard these sounds from you,” he mutters, his voice low. The words send a thrill through you, intensifying the ache building inside you.

Yeonjun glances up, admiring the sight before him—your flushed face framed by your heaving chest, the curve of your body leading to the apex of your desire. His own arousal pulses with need, but he stays focused on your pleasure, adding another finger and curling them inside you while his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. His other hand finds your breast, kneading it with just enough pressure to make you arch into his touch.

The sensations are overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge. Your cries grow louder, more desperate, and you call out his name, “J-jun-ie, I’m so close, I—ah!” The words spill from your lips, half-whined, half-sobbed. He seizes the moment, his voice a seductive purr as he asks, “Who do you belong to, YN? Who?” His question is punctuated by deep, consuming kisses, his lips never leaving your body.

“Yeonjun, Yeonjunnn, Yeonjunnnn,” you whimper, his name tumbling from your lips over and over, each repetition more desperate than the last. Your voice quivers, caught between pleasure and urgency, barely coherent as you’re overwhelmed by sensation. Though unsure if you’re truly responding to his question or lost in the throes of ecstasy, he chooses to believe your words are an affirmation, a declaration of belonging that feeds his need to claim you. The satisfaction inside his chest deepens, even as a flicker of uncertainty lingers, making your submission all the more intoxicating.

As the pleasure crests, you come undone around him, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Yeonjun’s jaw never slackens, his tongue and lips working to capture every drop of you, pushing you past the point of overstimulation until your body is trembling from the intensity.

You have to physically push him off you to break the contact with your core. Both of you are gasping, his breaths ragged as though he forgot to breathe while he was lost in you. His lips are red, plump, and swollen from their relentless work.

He sits up, still catching his breath, and swipes his tongue across his lips before wiping away the lingering moisture. “Need you, Yeonjun,” you murmur, thighs pressing together, desperate for some relief. “You think you’re ready?” he teases, his voice laced with playful challenge. “Mhm,” you reply instantly, the desperation clear in your tone.

He chuckles at your eagerness, reclining back into the spot he occupied earlier when you were blowing him, his head resting against the window, his body relaxed. “Then show me how ready you are.” His words fuel your need, and despite the lingering tremors in your legs from your climax, you move to straddle him, your bodies pressing together, warmth meeting warmth. Your core hovers just above his hardness, and as you begin to lower yourself, his hands grip your hips, guiding you to rub against him instead. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and soon you’re grinding against him, your movements instinctive, fueled by need. The air fills with the sound of your shared curses, the intensity of the moment overwhelming.

“Need you so badly, Jun...” you almost beg, your hips moving of their own accord. He meets your pleading gaze and releases his hold on your hips, granting you the freedom you crave. Without hesitation, you lift yourself slightly and take hold of him, aligning his length with your aching core. Your hand finds his shoulder for support as you slowly sink down, enveloping him fully.

The sensation defies description, the delicious stretch of his length inside you making your head fall back, eyes rolling in pure bliss. Instinctively, you lean into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you, hands soothingly caressing your back as he waits for your next move.

“All good, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice soft with concern as his fingers gently brush your hair aside, his eyes searching for yours.

“Mhm, so good...” you whisper, your nails digging into his shoulders. His laughter rumbles through his chest, a sound of satisfaction that makes you feel even more connected to him. Gathering your strength, you begin to ride him, each movement slow and deliberate at first, your focus entirely on the sensation of him filling you. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, muffling your moans as you concentrate on keeping your pace steady.

But Yeonjun isn’t satisfied with silence. He slips a finger between your lips, prying them open. “I want to hear you,” he whispers, his eyes pleading. With your mouth now free, your moans spill out, unrestrained. “Fuck, Yeonjun, so good,” you choke out, your pace quickening, your eyebrows knitting together in pure pleasure. His groans beneath you are a clear sign that he’s just as lost in the sensation.

He pulls you closer, his hand gripping the nape of your neck as he brings your face inches from his, his eyes piercing into yours. “You ride me so well, sweetheart,” he murmurs before pressing a rough kiss to your lips. “Do you ride him like this?” His voice drops lower, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, “Is his cock as good as mine?”

Your rhythm falters as his words sink in, your movements growing more erratic. Noticing your fatigue, Yeonjun takes control, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he lays you back against the leather seat, his cock still buried deep inside you. Your breath comes in short gasps, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer as if you could meld your bodies into one.

His hair falls forward, framing his intense gaze, his lips tugged into a dark, signature smirk. The sight of him, so utterly captivating, makes your heart ache with a longing you hadn’t realised was still there. As he begins to move, his hips driving into you with renewed vigor, your back arches off the seat, your body instinctively responding to the pleasure. “I missed this, Yeon...” you manage to moan out, “Jun...”

He laughs softly, though there’s a bitter edge to it, one you’re too lost in pleasure to notice. His mind drifts, remembering the pain of your separation, the doubts that plagued him. “Does he fuck you like this?” he mutters, though his voice is strained, not truly expecting an answer. “Does he leave marks like these?” His fingers press against the bruises he left earlier, his touch possessive.

“Does he make you moan like this?” His hand wraps around your throat, his grip tightening slightly, the question more of a growl than a whisper, his eyes glossing over with a mix of pain and desire. It’s as if he’s losing himself, too wrapped up in the physical to recognise the emotional turmoil beneath it all.

But you bring him back. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that’s both tender and fierce, grounding him in the present. When you pull away, your eyes lock onto his, your fingers brushing away the tear that slips down his cheek, a stark contrast to the rough rhythm of his thrusts.

“No, Yeonjun. No one else,” you say firmly, your voice carrying a truth that he can’t deny. He searches your gaze, looking for any hint of a lie, but all he finds is sincerity. A sigh of relief escapes him, his grip on your throat loosening.

“I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, his tone filled with regret as he dips his head, his hands moving to cradle your hips. “Let me make it up to you.” His voice is soft, his mind now focused on one thing: making you feel every ounce of love he still holds for you. His thrusts become more deliberate, aiming to hit that perfect spot inside you with each movement, his eyes locked onto your face as your moans create a symphony of pleasure.

The car rocks with the intensity of his movements, the sounds of skin against skin filling the small space. “I’m close, Yeonjun,” you gasp out, your arms clinging to him as if he were your only anchor in a storm of sensations.

He doesn’t relent, his pace constant, his dirty words whispered against your skin sending your mind into a spin. You wrap yourself around him, holding on as you reach your peak, your body trembling with the force of your release. It’s not just the release of tonight’s tension, but of all the pent-up emotions from the years you spent apart.

Yeonjun isn’t far behind, his release coming in powerful waves as he fills you completely. The car falls silent, the only sounds left are your breaths and the gentle hum of the night outside. His arms remain tightly wrapped around you, as if he’s afraid to let go, as if holding you will keep you here, with him.

Slowly, he pulls back, his movements gentle as he slips out of you, your body shuddering at the sudden emptiness. A mix of your juices leaks out, and Yeonjun can’t resist lowering his head to lick at your sensitive core, cleaning up the mess he made. You squirm beneath him, overstimulated, but he’s quick to finish, his lips leaving your skin with a final, tender kiss.

Reaching into the front seat, he grabs a small blanket and drapes it over your bodies. He props your head up on his jacket, fashioned into a makeshift pillow, before lying down beside you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, his body warm against yours as you both settle into the comfortable silence.

Exhausted and sated, neither of you speaks. You just lie there, naked under the blanket, wrapped in each other’s arms. Whatever tomorrow brings, whatever questions about your relationship remain unanswered, they can wait. Tonight, you sleep in the warmth of each other’s embrace, content for the first time in a long while.

-

The next morning, you’re startled awake by the loud, chirpy voice of Beomgyu, laughing and saying something you’re too tired to comprehend. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the brightness of the morning. The first thing you see is Beomgyu, snapping pictures of you and Yeonjun, who are tangled up on the cramped seat of Yeonjun’s car. Beside him, Nari is laughing, playfully slapping his arm to make him stop.

Yeonjun stirs beside you, groaning at the noise and the light streaming in. He notices your movement and is greeted with the same sight—Beomgyu dancing around outside the window, grinning like a fool. Yeonjun lets out another groan, clearly unimpressed.

Beomgyu, ever the mischief-maker, pulls Nari close, pressing her against him in a mock imitation of what you two had been doing last night. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore his antics. “Good morning,” you mutter to Yeonjun, deciding to focus on him instead of Beomgyu’s immaturity. From the way Nari and Beomgyu are behaving, you can only assume their night went just as well.

But as you sit up, still wrapped in the warmth of the blanket, you’re hit with a wave of confusion. Were Yeonjun and Nari really just friends then? The thought leaves you unsettled, and Yeonjun’s expression mirrors your confusion. What was actually going on?

You shoo away Beomgyu with a wave of your hand, and Nari drags Beomgyu away with a grin. Yeonjun slowly sits up, reaching for his clothes scattered on the floor. “Morning,” he replies, his voice stiff, as if unsure of what to say.

You both dress in the peaceful silence that falls after Beomgyu’s departure, the morning air now calm. Once fully clothed, Yeonjun opens the car door, letting in a refreshing breeze. He steps out, stretches, and then offers you his hand. You take it, grateful for his support as you struggle to stand upright.

He leads you to the entrance of the apartment, where Beomgyu is waiting with his usual devilish grin. “Don’t worry, lovebirds,” he says, tapping the elevator beside him with a wink. “Elevators are fixed, just for you two.” If you had the energy, you’d probably smack him, but you’re too drained to even try.

The four of you wait for the elevator, and when it arrives, you all step in. The ride up is awkward, the tension of unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. “So…” Nari finally speaks, breaking the silence. She clears her throat, glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Um, just so you know, Yeonjun and I were never really dating. We’re just friends. That kiss at the bar last night? Was the first and last time.”

You turn to look at her, slightly surprised. “Oh… I see.”

“Yeah,” she continues, her voice lightening. “Honestly, I brought Yeonjun to make Beomgyu jealous. That’s all.” She laughs, and you can’t help but join in. After all, Beomgyu basically did the same thing.

“And Beomgyu told me about you guys,” Nari adds, her laughter infectious. Yeonjun, who has been silent until now, finally turns to face her, his interest piqued.

“Oh… Did she not tell you yet?” Beomgyu asks, looking between the two of you, confused. “No?” Yeonjun replies, equally confused.

Just as another question is about to be asked, the elevator doors slide open, and Beomgyu and Nari quickly exit, eager to escape the tension. You and Yeonjun follow, your body leaning against him for support as you’re still feeling the aftereffects of last night.

Inside Beomgyu’s apartment, Yeonjun gently sets you down on the couch and helps you remove your shoes. “We’ll be in the bedroom for, uh, a few seconds,” Beomgyu says with a grin, pointing between himself and Nari.

“Uh-huh,” Yeonjun responds, still perplexed. As the two disappear into the bedroom, you’re left alone with Yeonjun, and now is the perfect time to clear the air.

You turn to face him, gathering your thoughts. “Yeonjun.” He gives you his full attention, his expression serious. “Beomgyu and I were never dating either. He’s actually my friend from kindergarten…”

You pause, watching his reaction. “Beomgyu wanted to see Nari again, and this was his dumb idea to make it happen. He didn’t even know we were exes. It was just a crazy coincidence that we both ended up here.”

“And we’ve never done anything like… that,” you add, your voice softening. He knows exactly what you mean. “Ever since we broke up,” you continue, licking your lips nervously, “I haven’t even taken any interest to another guy. I haven’t moved on. I couldn’t.”

His face remains unreadable, but you can see the wheels turning in his mind. “Yeonjun, breaking up with you was my biggest mistake,” you admit, your voice wavering. “I was dealing with so much in my own head, and we were younger, and I didn’t realize how much our relationship meant. I thought it was holding me back, but I was blind to all the good parts.”

He sighs, his chest rising and falling as he processes your words. His eyes drop to the floor, lost in thought. You move closer, gently cupping his cheek with your hand. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your thumb brushing against his skin. “For wasting so much time, for hurting you.”

You hesitate before adding, “I understand if you’re not ready to get back together—”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice firm. He lifts his head, meeting your gaze. “No, I want to get back together. It’s what I’ve needed for the past two years, Y/N.” His words bring a smile to your face, and he takes your hand in his. “And if you’re ready, I’d like to start fresh. Better than before.”

“I’d love that, Yeonjun,” you reply, your heart swelling with relief. He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes still closed. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Yeonjun,” you respond, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, savoring the closeness.

Suddenly, your moment is interrupted by a loud moan from the bedroom. “Oh, Beomgyu!” The sound is unmistakable, and you and Yeonjun snap your eyes open, exchanging shocked looks before bursting into laughter. Yeonjun’s signature laugh fills the room, his eyes squinting into crescents as his eyebrows shoot up in a mix of shock and amusement.

“Fuckkk,” Beomgyu’s voice echoes through the walls, followed by the undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin. “Oh gosh, let’s get out of here,” you say, scrambling to get off the couch, your face flushed with embarrassment.

Yeonjun agrees, quickly putting on his shoes. “You like that, huh?” Beomgyu’s voice continues, and you and Yeonjun exchange horrified glances as you both rush to leave.

“Yeah, no, we’re leaving,” Yeonjun says, scooping you up into his arms and hurrying you out the door.

“Yeonjun!” you squeal, laughing as he carries you outside. “Where are we even going?”

“My apartment,” he answers with a smile, the two of you leaving Beomgyu’s place behind, a trail of giggles following in your wake.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Author's notes)

Hi this is my first ever Tumblr story that's this long! So, I would appreciate if you comment any feedback or critiques!

I will be making a master-list to organise my work really soon :).

I'm also working on another story currently, that I believe is longer and has a more intense plot. It includes smut but it is more of detective psychological story with plot twists. I still haven't fully decided who to pair it with (I'm open to any group I'm familiar with; BTS, TXT, SVT, ATZ, ENHA, ZB1 etc..), so if you would like a specific member for this story lmk! I'll try to take in your suggestions :D! I will also be posting a prolougue/teaser to it soon.

If you'd like to be in my taglist please reply and lmk.

I take in requests! So, feel free to send any in :)!

So yeah, hope this story was an enjoyable read! Have a great day loves 💕.

[junniieesbby]

Shut Up and Continue What You Started|Choi Beomgyu

Pairing: Non Idol Beomgyu x F!reader

Genre: Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Kind of Fluff.

WC: 1.6k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: When your childhood friend turned enemy sees you dance and giggle with one his best friends. He loses it, can't stand the sight of you with someone other than him. He goes to show you just how much he missed you and how incredibly sorry he was for treating you badly.

Warning: Mentions of Alcohol, Smut, Creampie, Implied Cockwarming. Let me know if I missed anything.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Nothing mentioned in this fiction represents any of the characters.

A/N: This is a very late post for my Secret Santa. @boba-beom surpriseeee it’s me Angel (although you already knew because I’m the last one to post haha). This was so fun to do part of me is nervous because I am writing this for one of my all time favorite writers here on tumblr and I wanted this to be really good! Everyone please check out all the other beauties Secret Santa posts @amoryeonjun aka @lovejoshua , @honajoong and @flwrseon 💗 give them lots of love 🥺

Angel I hope you like this👉🏻👈🏻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

All you wanted to do was to wipe that stupid sexy smirk off his face. He was so annoyingly handsome but he got on your nerves any chance he had. Choi Beomgyu was handsome, irritating, and drove you mad.

You had known each other since the day he was born. Your moms were best friends and they had gotten pregnant at around the same time. Your mom gave birth a day before Beomgyu’s mom did, so you two were forced to be attached at the hip.

At one point he was your best friend. Someone you always went to for comfort. It all changed when you entered high school, it was like you didn’t even know him. He no longer talked to you, he stopped coming over to your house to hang out, and he even would glare at you for no apparent reason.

Here you were at your parents annual Christmas Eve party, with a glass of Prosecco in your hand staring at Beomgyu who’s all over his next girl toy. You hated to say it but it hurt, it hurt seeing someone you liked and missed be so close to another girl. This was the reason you decided to go to university in a city that was further from home. You couldn’t stand watching him mess around with yet another girl.

You wanted to forget about Beomgyu for tonight. If he liked to go and have fun with random girls and rub it in, so could you!

Walking to the dance floor you see your perfect target. Kang Taehyun, who happens to be one of Beomgyu’s Bestfriend. You walk up to his dancing form and slide your body to him. “Hey Tyun, long time no see” you say looking up at him. “Y/N!!! It’s been so long.” Taehyun said, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for an embrace.

“I know it feels like forever. Can I dance with you?” you tell him rather shyly. Taehyun was very handsome, kind and smart. Although you and Beomgyu had a falling out Taehyun would always check up on you to make sure you were good. “You don’t even need to ask, love” Taehyun said while placing firm hands on your waist dancing to the rhythm of the song.

You two continued to dance and chatted about how life has been when suddenly you felt a pair of arms rip you from Taehyun’s embrace. “You come with me” Beomgyu says sternly then turns and looks at a smirking Taehyun “and you, I’ll deal with you later” and without another word Beomgyu drags the two of you to your room.

Once inside he slams the door shut and locks it. “What the fuck was that for Beomgyu” you said folding your arms. “Why were you dancing with him like that?” Beomgyu looks at you clearly mad. You have never seen him this visibly angry before. “Like what? We were just dancing. And it’s none of your business who I dance with and how I dance with them.” You did not know what his problem was but he wasn’t going to talk to you like that after years of not talking.

He turns to walk towards you and you slowly walk backwards until your back hits the door. Beomgyu is standing mere inches from you as he leans down his nose brushing yours. “Smiles…” You froze at the nickname he just called you. The nickname he gave you when you were kids because he said you always smiled at him. “You do not get to come back into my life after years of not talking calling me nicknames like nothing happened between us, Beomgyu” The moment you finished your sentence he crashed his lips onto yours. Years of pent up frustration, hurt, and desire were poured into that kiss.

Beomgyu’s hands started to wonder cupping your ass and lifting you slowly pushing you into the door deepening the kiss. You had never been kissed like this before, this kiss was full of lust and passion. You slowly pull away from the kiss confused as to why he was doing this.

“Y/n…look I know I am a shitty friend for not talking to you all these years, But the reason for that was because I liked you. I liked you so much it started driving me crazy. I thought not seeing you would make things better, but clearly not. You have no idea how long I have wanted to slam my lips against yours.” Beomgyu said, as he slowly brought his hand to your cheek.

You stared at him, shocked at his words. Part of you wanted to scream and yell at him for not talking to you about his feelings, because he had no idea how you felt, and the other part wanted you to grab his collar and smash your lips to his. You didn’t feel like arguing and that kiss had you wanting more. The latter of the options won as you grabbed his collar bringing him closer to you whispering “Shut up and continue what you started”.

Beomgyu smirked at your words as he kissed you passionately bringing you to your bed. “Fuck angel you look so sexy in this tight red dress Been wanting nothing more than to fuck you in it” He slowly starts to leave kisses on your neck going to your breast. He pulled your dress down a little so your cleavage could fall out. “I wish I could take my time with these beauties, but that's for another day. The dress stays I want to fuck your pretty cunt while you wear it.” He said pulling your panties down and tossing them to the side. He unzipped his pants and let his cock out stroking it a few times before he let it slide through your drenched folds. Your whines and whimpers were music to his ears. “Beomgyu, hurry up and fuck me stop the teasing” That earned you a slap to your cunt.

“Be patient baby, i've been wanting your pussy for years let me enjoy it” He didn’t even let you respond, he slid his cock in with ease. “Fuck baby you’re so wet and tight I could spend the rest of my days in your cunt” His dirty words caused you to clinch which earned a grunt from him. “Beomgyu, so good…so so good” That is all you could say your brain too fuzzy to comprehend anything other than the delicious cock that is sliding in and out of you.

Beomgyu’s hand came up to twist and play with your nipples as you reached down to start rubbing your folds for a faster relief. He quickly slapped your hand away. “You will cum with my cock and my cock only” He started to move faster. You needed him closer to you, you grabbed his tie and pulled him smashing your lips on him. Beomgyu’s cock twitched; he thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Your kiss became sloppier as your orgasm was approaching.

“You close angel?” He asked you, but he knew he could feel you clench around him. All you could do was nod. His thrusts continued but they became messy. He reached between the both of you as he was getting there and pinched your clit which sent you over the edge. Your legs started to shake from the stimulation. After a few more thrusts Beomgyu came. He leaned down and gave your forehead a kiss whispering “You did so well for me Angel”.

As he was getting up you pulled him by the collar again. “Stay, just stay please I need you to be as close to me as possible” You didn’t want him to leave you anytime soon. “I was just going to clean you up baby, but I will stay. I will never ever make the same mistake of leaving you again” He flipped the two of you so he was laying on his back. One hand playing with your hair and the other rubbing your back. “Merry Christmas Beomie…I am still mad at you, but i'm glad to be in your arms” You nozzle your head in the crook of his neck. “Merry Christmas my Angel, I am sorry I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. And you will only be in my arms from now on.” He grabbed your hand that was placed on his neck and gave it a kiss. You both slept soundly that day and woke up to a white Christmas.

[hyukascampfire]

𝒯𝑂: 𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑂𝑁𝐸 𝐹𝑅𝑂𝑀 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑀 𝐶𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐸 ༉

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

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

wc ➳ 24.5k

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

warnings violence, death, descriptions of past trauma, oral (m receiving), PIV sex, poisoning, mean taehyun... tell me if I missed anything

playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

…🪶 ashlynn's note this one is hhheeefttty and packed with a bunch of angst, so buckle up pls. also... if you see any typos or weird sentences, no u didn't... 24k is a lot of words guys... but also lmk so i can fix it LMAOO. enjoy!!

← ⑊ →

You wipe at your forehead, dragging in breaths as you realign your stance. Each swipe and jab you run through wells up inside you, amassing frustration. They all feel infuriatingly sloppy. You had cracked open a window in the room. Though it lets a nasty winter breeze in, the cold works wonders against your clammy skin.  

You had initially been practicing in the sparring room, but the heavy, blood-stained and battle-worn swords displayed on the walls, hung right next to the taxidermy heads of fallen faeries, began making you uneasy so you opted for another room in the estate. Taehyun’s father must’ve been a vicious general.  

The words of both Yeonjun and the barkeeping hob at The Hovel are snug under your skin like burrs. He sowed a good seed of wicked into his son, the barkeep had said. Staring into the lifeless, beady eyes of the felled creatures had made you wonder exactly how wicked that seed had been. As far as you know, Taehyun harbors no love for his father, though. It doesn’t make any sense that he’d want to resemble him, especially in his behaviors. You can’t help but feel that you’re missing some intrinsic piece that would clear it all up for you. 

There’s also the matter of what that man in the forest had said after you had stabbed him. You’re fucking dead, anyway. The words have echoed and ricocheted in your head endlessly, and you’ve tried ardently to dissect them. You’re only left with a queasy pit in your gut each time you do. You’ve decided that it’s best to pretend that they’re just the angry words of a man stabbed. You’d probably try to instill fear in the person who’d stabbed you if it was the last thing you could do, too. 

Despite that, it still is concerning that he had known where to find you and had claimed that someone had told him where to do so. There’s also the fact that there had been people in The Hovel looking for you two. You’re not exactly sure what would happen if you and Taehyun were discovered; your suspicions range from a slap on the wrist to the breaking out of war between The North and The High Court. You’ve never so much as seen The Queen, but you can’t imagine she’d take too kindly to discover that The King has spies actively infiltrating her court. Your chest becomes tight with the reminder that the mission that you and Taehyun are on is endlessly delicate. 

“You’re leaving too many openings between swings.”  

Taehyun’s voice tugs you from your own mind. You drop your arms, making great effort to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Your limbs wobble with exertion. You had wanted to practice alone; having Taehyun observe and pick at your shortcomings would only irk you and make you so consciously aware of them that you could think nowhere beyond them. You had pointedly avoided seeking out his help for a reason. 

 “And,” he adds, “you’re so focused on what you do with your arms that you forget to move your feet.”

You toss your head back, willing down the tightness in your throat and the warm, frustrated tears pooling at your eyes. He’s right; you can feel it yourself, but no matter your efforts, your own limbs work against you. Your frustration manifests itself in the form of your heart thumping in your ears. It’s all you can hear. You snap at him. “I know.”  

Taehyun doesn’t look taken aback by the bite in your tone, but he does release his sword from its scabbard, approaching you and leveling his arms into an offensive, swinging stance. Your arms are dead weight as you do the same, but with a defensive one. You anticipate his first swing, meeting it with a sturdy block. Metal sings as he sends you another one.  

“Frustration throws your technique and strength out the window,” he says, going for a jab with the hilt. You narrowly miss it, throwing yourself back. 

 That would’ve been a black eye.  

You furrow your brows at him, and then step forward, slashing your blade with hostile shock. He knocks it away. You throw your free hand up in an exasperated gesture. “What the hell? That would’ve knocked my eye out,” you say. It’s an overdramatization, but it definitely would’ve left a mark. 

He slides a swift foot right at your feet, sending you crumpling the floor of wood. Your body quakes, soft and jelly against the ungiving ground. You stay down for a few moments, trying to brave the bout of roaring pain that sears your body in its entirety. Your knees weep red as you lift yourself to your arms, looking up from your spot on the ground right to the point of his blade in your face. You look past it, into his eyes. He’s studying you, picking apart where you lack and internalizing it. 

“You let yourself get too frustrated. You need a level mind to make clever moves,” he says, sheathing the weapon and offering you a hand up. You accept it, not before sending him an accusatory glare first, your weary muscles pleading with you as you stand. You shake off the radiant pain in your wrists; you shouldn’t have broken your fall with your arms. Taehyun circles you, and you listen to his footsteps creaking until he’s standing behind you.  

“Get in position.”  

You collect your sword from the ground and bring it up by your face, staggering your feet. You shift and readjust your arms and legs here and there, trying to find a sweet spot where it all feels right. None of it does.  

Taehyun’s arms find your shoulders, squaring them. You hold your breath as one of his arms then adjusts the height at which you’re holding the sword, reaching his arm around you. His skin is as cold to the touch as you remember it being, and the way it slides against the skin of your arm is tauntingly familiar.  

You scramble to shove those memories far, far back. When his hands finally drop off you, you stifle a sigh of relief. 

When Taehyun reappears in front of you, he’s holding the hilt of the sword at his hip in a white-knuckled grip, and his jaw is clenched tight. You hold your new stance, trying to settle into it, afraid you’re frustrating him. 

“Swing,” he says. You hesitate. He doesn’t even have his sword out, but he’s watching you so expectantly, and so you do it, cutting the air. You don’t even get to finish the swing before the world whirls around you, Taehyun’s arms twisting you and encasing you so that your sword-wielding arm is stuck behind you. He smells of frosty pinewood musk as he holds you there. Your mouth drops open, and you try to register how he even approached you, caught your swinging arm, and pinned you in that minimal time frame.  

He takes the sword from out of your compromised hand and tosses it. The heavy thing clatters to the ground a few feet away. “What would you do if I was an attacker?” he asks. “You’ve got no weapons. Show me what you’d do.” His muscle-corded forearms hold you pinned in a similar fashion to how that faerie man had in the forest, except now your arm is twisted behind you in an unnatural way that pinches your shoulder blade. 

You wonder if he’s getting flashes of that moment in the forest, too. 

Wiggling proves useless, so you try hooking your own leg into one of his to knock him down. He’s planted too well to the ground. You huff out in frustration, letting your head drop. He’s got you in his arms so tight that your lungs can’t even fully expand.  

“Okay, I can’t,” you say. “Let me go.”  

A few heartbeats pass before he does.  

Taehyun crosses his arms over his chest. “You’d die, if that was real. We don’t know if we’re going to run into more things like what happened at The Hovel. There are ways to defend yourself from bigger attackers.” 

You wince. The press of that dagger into your chest haunts you along with the sensations of hot blood coating your hands, and the pained grunts of the man. “We might at least know a little more, if you hadn’t stabbed him through the stomach before I could ask him any questions.” You rest your sword up against a wall, along with yourself.  

“He was just trying to scare you,” Taehyun says, leaning back onto the edge of an old war strategy desk. You can tell he doesn’t even believe the words himself, his eyes narrowing as cogs turn in his head. 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t think he was.” It takes every ounce of resilience you’ve got to not crumple down to the floor. You’ve been practicing for hours. “He said that he had found us, not that he just stumbled across us. And he knew who you are.” You remember the distaste with which he had regarded Taehyun. It may allude to his motivations. 

Taehyun listens to you, his eyes narrowed in thought, and you take it as an invitation to continue. “I think he knew, Taehyun. He’s got to be the one who was asking about us at The Hovel. Unless he’s not even the only one who knows.” You kick yourself off the wall, despite the ache, and pace. “But he knew you. And I don’t think he liked you, either.”  

Taehyun doesn’t say anything for a few moments as he thinks, tossing metal pieces from the strategy table he leans on as he does. His brow creases. “The Queen must have her own people laying low in Court. Summer’s solstice is only a few weeks away,” he says.  

“What about the Summer Solstice?” you say. You know that the constant holding of Court in your time here has all been in service of the Solstice, but you can’t imagine why that would entail needing ears in your court. 

“I’m not sure,” Taehyun says, thumbing over that figure of metal, feeling its grooves and features. “But The Queen would not have people out there looking for our kind unless she had something she wants quiet.”  

You lick your dry lips. The Queen knows you’re here. “What do we do about the fact that they know there’s infiltrators?” At the very least, that faerie who saw your faces is dead. How much more death will you see in these coming weeks? Telling yourself that it’s for your own safety is doing a flimsy job of soothing you already; you’re unsure how well it’ll work when you have more blood on your hands.  

Taehyun breathes out through his nose, standing up from the desk and taking another metal figure from it. He pushes the ones left, most of them fallen and in disarray, off to the side, before standing the two in his hands. They’re stood generally where the estate would stand on the map. He erects a few of the discarded figures, lining them up around where Court might be, and then lays one felled off in the woods that The Hovel boasts as its home. The faerie he had killed. 

Something about seeing Taehyun, shady eyes and clad in the clothes of a warlord, interacting with the same strategy table that his father would’ve used to lay out his plans of carnage reminds you of repeated warnings and wary eyes bowing before Taehyun. Had the downfalls of those lifeless heads in the sparring room been planned on that same table, with those same figures? 

“All we can do is keep doing what we’ve been doing. Can you promise me that you’ll be as discreet as possible from this point onward?” Taehyun finally pries his eyes from the table up to yours. “You need to watch your words no matter who you’re around. That includes the prince.” 

Attitude flares in your chest at his last words, but you wrangle it back. You don’t think you have to worry about Yeonjun, but you know it’s better to err on the side of caution. You nod. “And if something happens?” you ask. The question is grim and grey on your tongue. Now that you’ve gotten a taste of what this life really means, you can’t help but ask.  

“You do what it takes to survive, and then we return home with all the information we’ve got, and that’s that.”  

The smell of hot iron melts over you, red and suffocating. You remember the thickness of it, and how it had crusted over a deep brown color and stayed plastered to your skin until you took water to it and scrubbed.  

“Taehyun, I barely made it out of that forest. I’m...” You steady your breathing as it seems to get ahead of you. “I’m not going to win a fight one on one, Taehyun. I’m trying to get better, but that’s just not realistic, and you know it. That was luck.”  

Some emotion passes over his face, his eyebrows pinching and eyes wincing, but it’s gone before you can even name it. “This is how you learn to survive. You don’t learn in sparring rooms,” he says. His sword clicks from the scabbard and its metal trills as he draws it again. "But for now, you need to make sure your odds are as good as they can be.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, releasing your breath.  

“I’ve been in here for hours, Taehyun. I’m tired.”  

He shakes his head. “You need to know how to fight tired.” 

You’re not sure you’ll even be able to swing properly. You don’t barely have it in you to talk, nonetheless fight in any way worthwhile. But he’s right. You swipe your sword off the wall, the dingy metal no longer warmed by your hands. It bites your skin as you settle into the best stance you can muster. To use every bit of your energy in a wild offensive attack, or to slip into the defensive and try to last as long as you can? You’re not sure.  

Taehyun seems to be making the decision for you, though, rooted in his spot, his eyes steady on you. He doesn't urge you to attack him; he just watches to see what you’ll do. Willing your poor, poor legs into motion, you gain on him. You know your legs and pace are lethargic as you move, but you just need to be closer so that you can begin to make moves. He doesn’t comment on the height of your arms or your pace this time. 

You dart your eyes about his torso as if planning a hit there, before swinging down at his sword-bearing arm. Taehyun’s eyes flicker with something akin to surprise, but he dodges well before you can connect. You try not to groan as he darts away and sets back into that unmoving, certain stance. He’s trying to gauge the attacks you opt for. You throw a few unexceptional swings, and he meets all of them. You dart and swing. You need to catch him unaware or unprepared.  

Every time you bring down your sword, it’s doing nothing for you except for draining your energy. He’s full of energy; he hadn’t been practicing like you. You drag full breaths in through your nose, each one not feeling like enough to feed your starved lungs. If you keep fighting like this, you’ll run your well dry.  

You narrow your eyes. Everyone has openings, you just need to find Taehyun’s, however hidden and subtle they are. You take in the sure stance of him, the glimmering dark metal of his heavy blade, the slight way he has his face drawn so that it betrays none of his thoughts, and even the broad musculature of his chest. None are particularly helpful in finding you a clever attack, so you swing at his left. Taehyun is left-handed, you’ve observed that much in the time you’ve known him. Swinging closer to his sword will leave him with less airtime to deflect your hit. Hopefully. 

Taehyun manages to parry your slashing, but it’s just with the edge of his blade, and he has to stumble back. He’s quick to reset, regarding you with twinkling interest in his licorice black eyes. That doesn’t matter—you have your angle, now. You suck in as much air as you can. Your limbs plead with you, whispering that your bed is waiting for you. You answer them by feinting a blow to the right, before pulling back and raising your arms and bringing the entirety of your blade to his left. Metal screeches. Taehyun narrowly meets your sword with his own, supporting the flat side of it with his palm, looking down at you with a smile twitching at his lips. 

 Is that a dimple? 

A sturdy arm curls around your waist, spinning you up and tangling you into a knot. Taehyun pins you against him in exactly the fashion the faerie man had, arms pressed to your sides without seam.  

“Damn it!” you hiss. You dig your fingers into the expanse of his forearm, tensed across your chest like a metal bar. Your sword lies discarded somewhere on the floor. Taehyun is quite a bit taller than that other faerie; he has you held so crushingly that only your toes connect with the ground. 

“You need to stop wearing your thoughts on your face,” he says. His words puff out onto the breadth of your neck, so warm on your skin tingling with the winter air. “But good job trying to find an advantage.”  

You tap out at his arm. “Okay, okay,” you say, trying to find good purchase on your tiptoes. 

“No,” he says, voice thick and stern. He holds you fast to him with his one arm. “You can get out of this. I’ve seen you do it, so do it.”  

You’re sent back to caging arms and words snarled into your ears for the nth time today. “I can’t,” you say, voice wobbly and untrustworthy. “I had to stab him, Taehyun.” You feel nauseous and claustrophobic.   

“He was going to kill you. You don’t need mercy for those who have none for you; It doesn’t serve you.” He wraps his free arm around your waist, tight and oppressive in the same way his other arm is. “C’mon.”  

You grit your teeth kick and buck wildly, digging your heels into his shins and prying at the bar of his arm. Your veins are empty of any fire. You let your head fall back, huffing, and it makes contact with the hardness of his shoulder.  

He pulls you in so that your hips are flush to him. His head drops down near the crook of your neck. “Come on,” he repeats, more punctuated and demanding this time. The contours of his body are solid and hard against you. Your brain feels a little fuzzy. Is it from your shallow breathing, or the way you can feel the heaviness of his eyes boring into you? You’re unsure.  

You pry and pry at his arms, wriggling yourself in hopes that, at one point, you’ll bend your body in a way that will let you slip out. You even reach behind you and shove at the hard planes of his stomach. All of it is infuriatingly futile.  

“You can do more than that,” Taehyun says. “Hit me. Do something. A real captor would’ve done whatever they please with you by now. Come on!”  

“I don’t want to hit you!” you say. When you begin twisting again, he opts for holding you to him by one hip, rather than his whole arm. His fingers dig into you. 

Taehyun’s voice is low in your ears. “I told you to hit me, so do it.”  

All that can be heard in the room for a few long, long moments are your panting breaths, until you bring your foot up and stomp down on his foot, driving your heel down. The thick leather and laces of his boots may pillow some of the force, but not all of it. He grunts, cursing thick and meaningful. He falls back from you, stumbling back until he’s propped up on that strategy table.  

“I’m sorry,” you say, rushing over to him. You had brought your foot down on his harder than you had wanted.  

Taehyun raises a dismissive hand, the wood of the table creaking under his weight as he leans on it, but his face has dropped and smoothed over. You wonder how one could ever be so good at veiling their emotions so completely. He nods at you, his eyes rounded and soft, despite how his foot might be groaning. “Good job,” he says. 

You shake your head and cross your arms over your chest. “You’re insane,” you say. 

He smiles at you. “Maybe.” 

There’s that dimple, again. It’s a soft, kind thing, so at odds with the hard lines and angles of his face. Finally, you let your shoulders soften and relax. You may fall asleep standing upright, if you don’t find the plush of a mattress soon. 

❆

You bite down your hisses and sounds. Yeonjun runs his thumb over the deep purple and yellow bruises that litter your legs and arms, and some are too fresh to be touching. His face is pinched and troubled as his eyes linger over your scabbed knees. 

“Where are you getting these?” he asks. His eyes flicker up to yours, sparkling under the dim firelight that he keeps in his room. Your mouth goes dry. The concern you see brimming there has you wanting to explode in a frenzy of apologies and truths. He deserves to know what you are.  

Sighing, you prop yourself up and onto your elbows. “I do a lot of work at the estate,” you say. It’s a weak excuse for the severity of your bruising, but it’s all you have. His eyebrows lift, and he tilts his head to one side as he looks down at you, something unnamed playing in the lines of his eyes. 

“He lets you get all beaten up like this?” he scoffs. “What kind of work does he even have you doing, anyway? What a piece of shit.” 

 You can tell he wants to extend his offer again. His eyes plead silently with you. You feel guilt the most of any emotion, these days. You shake your head, shrugging him off. “It’s not his fault, Yeonjun. Seriously. I’m just not the best at what I do.”  

“It is his fault, if you come back to me looking like this under his care. I’m sick of it.  Look at your arms,” he says, picking up the battered thing pointedly. “It kills me every moment you’re there with him, and I don’t know what’s happening to you. But then, you show up... like this. It’s hard for me to believe what you say, pretty.” 

You sit up fully. You’re trying to find a way to explain it all away for him. You really are. 

Your silence has him recanting. "I believe you. I do. It’s just...” Yeonjun takes his hand and soothes it over a deep bruise, his eyes trained on it and a bit distant. “I don’t trust him.”  

There it is again. It’s beginning to feel more like cryptic omens the more you hear it. You gnaw at your cheek. “Why?” you blurt. “Why not? I don’t understand.”  

“That family is a line of blood-drinking generals, and I can assure you that he is no different. His father pillaged and devastated as he pleased. Taehyun had no qualms with taking on his father’s legacy. He’s no stranger to killing, pretty. I don’t want you staying in that home.” 

You shake your head, stomach feeling sick. You’ve known about Taehyun’s lineage. But you also know that Taehyun hates his father. Why would he maim himself the way he did if he’s just like his father?  

An image of Taehyun, stone-faced and dark-eyed, standing over the body of that faerie man comes alive in your memories. He had sliced through that man like he was some sort of practice dummy, not a living, breathing thing.  

“Please. I just want you to at least consider why I am asking you to stay with me.”  

You nod, letting him bring you into soft, warm arms. His skin is flush and full of life against yours. It only makes you think of the crystalline and cold that Taehyun’s is. Where Yeonjun is a lush, living thing, Taehyun is more like if frost was stricken with the curse of sentience. 

“Some of my friends are out having a bonfire,” he says, his voice soft. “Do you want to go?” 

You nod. A night under the stars may not be enough to free you of your worries, but it’s enough to let you pretend that they don’t exist.  

❆

The company Yeonjun keeps is admittedly less stuffy and pompous than you had in mind, but still, they are unfamiliar to you. You sit leaned into Yeonjun on some chopped up log, its dry bark digging into your palms and dirtying your skirts. The rumble of Yeonjun’s chest as he laughs and talks with the other faeries circling the towering fire is smooth on your ears. All that lights the gathering is the orange of the flame and the stars above. It’s a moonless night.  

Some of his friends dance free and unabashed to the strumming of a lyre. The faerie plucking at its strings had stricken you a bit frozen when your eyes had first laid on him. You’re familiar with that flop of blonde hair, and that delicately built face. It was the same faerie Taehyun had spoken with in The Hovel. Your eyes linger on him the most—you’re not entirely sure why, but it just feels like an odd coincidence to you. The Hovel, or even its patrons and performers, is not the kind of place you imagined Yeonjun would find his friends. 

He sings to some ridiculous and bawdy faerie ode that you pay no mind. His voice is clear, and it harmonizes wonderfully with the crackle of the bonfire. A jaunty pixie girl cracks up between her dancing at an especially outrageous line.  

“Who is that?” you say, looking up at Yeonjun.  

He looks down at you with starlight in his eyes, alive with the fragrant bliss floating through the air. “Who?” he asks, lips sweet with a smile. You want to kiss them. Is it okay to kiss him here? 

“The guy playing the instrument,” you say, pointing him out. Yeonjun looks in the direction you point. 

“Oh,” he says. “That’s Kai. Why, pretty?” he says, looking back down at you. His black tunic is silken and shimmers under firelight. He brushes strands of your hair from your face so that he can look into your eyes better.  

You shrug. “No reason. Is he a bard?”  

He nods, eyes searching yours. “He is. What are you so curious for?” he asks, the corners of his lips upturned and playful. His skin is fire-warmed, smelling of his familiar sandalwood and clove. You breathe him in. 

“I’m just trying to get to know your friends,” you say. You maintain an air of cheekiness, but you can’t help running over the moment you had first seen the instrument-strumming faerie. 

Yeonjun’s heart seems to tug at that. “I know. Thank you,” he says. His smile is radiant and smooth, and his eyes form crescents.  

“They’re a bit less...” you say. You sit up from him, studying your company to find your words. They’re all more familiar to you—wilder fae, like the kind you might’ve interacted with back home. Not the preening gentry that you’ve mingled with in Court. As a prince, you had imagined Yeonjun might find his home in children of the gentry. 

“Less what? Less frumpy than you thought?” he asks, laughing. His cheeks are flushed with some thick, nectary faerie spirit that the lot have been sipping on, and his breath is sweet with it. “I can’t stand that crowd. Reminds me of home.”  

Your brows pinch with curiosity. “What is your court like?” you say. Someone hoots off in the background, but neither you nor Yeonjun are phased by it. You’ve been surrounded by similar sounds from the moment you arrived here. 

His gaze turns skyward. “Court is court, no matter where it is,” he says, breathing out softly through his nose. “But... at home, things are different. At least, for me they are. I can’t...” He shakes his head as if he’s sorting through old memories that you’re asking him to bare. “I can’t live up to what they expect me to be. There was a time in my life where I tried, but It’s not who I am. You grow tired when it’s your own blood smiling in your face before sticking their blades in your back. All this,”—he takes his silken shirt in his hands— “It becomes tired.”  

His eyes become duller as he speaks. You wince.  

“Maybe it’s a cage of gold, but it is still a cage,” he says into the buzzing night air. Or, rather, he says it to the stars. “So, you get real good at pretending. When everybody is wearing a mask around you, you learn to wear one too.”  

Yeonjun’s head finally drops back down, and he scans around, eyes drinking in the sight of cavorting faeries and the living fire. His eyes then land on you, soft and brimming and full. “It’s nice to have some place to take that mask off.” 

You feel your heart surging in a bittersweet way. You don’t deserve to be that for him. All you do is lie to him, and yet, you can’t help the way your heart aches for him. 

His gaze flickers down at your lips, and he’s leaning in tentative and unsure. You bridge the gap between your lips. He cups your face delicately with a hand, running it back into your hair. His lips have become something familiar; some sort of tonic that washes over you and seeps into your wounds. When you inevitably pull from him, he’s looking right into you. He tastes like that nectar liqueur, as well.  

“I’m gonna go talk. You coming?” he says.  

You shake your head. “I’ll stay right by this fire, thank you very much. It’s cold.”  

He snorts, a corner of his lips turning up. “Yeah, it is. Who let you outside with nothing more than that dress, anyway? It’s freezing out here.” 

“You did.”  

He rubs at the back of his neck, sucking his lips in sheepishly before shuffling away. You roll your eyes and settle into your earthy seat, watching him go. You observe the gathering around you some more while you sit alone, enjoying the sound of true laughs and the music that Kai fills the rest of the air with. Some are sappy, and some are tellings of ancient faerie epics, but there’s one that, for a reason that you’re unsure of, catches your ear and beckons you to listen to it. 

Walls have ears,

 Doors have eyes,

Trees have voices,  

Beasts tell lies,

Beware the rain,

Beware the snow,

Beware the man You think you know. 

You listen as he repeats the ode like a mantra, your bones unsettled. It’s just an ode; you know that. It’s no different from any old, dauntingly ominous faerie folk song. But you think of Taehyun as the bard repeats the words, and you think of how many times you’ve been told to do just that. You try to shrug off that zinging feeling in the back of your neck telling you that you don’t really know Taehyun. In Faerie, there are no coincidences. You don’t know how long you can let words of concern and warning bounce off of you before you start to let them soak right in. 

The metal tang of blood on your tongue tells you that it’s time to get up and distract yourself from your thoughts. You’d gnawed your cheek up. You stretch your limbs and find Yeonjun. He stands talking to a small crowd of faeries, and you join, sliding in next to him. A few of them gawk, and you feel it burning your skin, but you keep your eyes on Yeonjun and do your best to shimmy the feeling off. He wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you in closer to him. 

Their conversation is quite honestly hilarious. Their snorts and hollering draw laughs out of you. They loosen your limbs and leave your cheeks pink. You feel as drunk on your laughter as they are on their drinks. Kai soon decides that, since nobody is even listening to his word-spinning anymore, he should join the circle.You don’t notice it, but at some point, the circle cracks off into many different conversations. You stick with Yeonjun, clinging to him for a sense of belonging among the unfamiliar faces. He talks with Kai and a lanky, bark-skinned faerie. The unfamiliar faerie’s eyes are beady and wet, and you feel uneasy under them. You have to strain your ear to clearly hear what they talk about as the other conversations around you mingle and turn into a big blur of jumbled words and sounds. 

“Wouldn’t you?” the tall faerie says, his voice gravelly and heavy with bass. “The Queen knows it. She has until the Solstice to deal away with it.” Yeonjun and Kai share a look that is quick, but it is charged with meaning. You don’t miss how they shift with his words. 

You shove down the urge to snap your head up and frown. The Solstice? What does The Queen know? And what is it? 

The faerie adds, “I heard from a bird that they’ve got something set up at The Hovel for it, anyway. No worries.”  

His word choice sends a chill over you. You can almost feel the blood draining from your face. It’s an echo of what you had heard in the forest after leaving The Hovel. It feels intentional, like some sort of code or meaning that you’re not privy to. Your mind begins patching together thoughts and memories and gathered information in a messy, hodge-podged way, but none of it forms a coherent line of reasoning. You commit the features of this unfamiliar faerie to your memory. You buzz with the consuming need to begin tearing through the woods and find Taehyun, wherever he might be tonight. 

“Are you okay, pretty?” Yeonjun asks, leaning down. His voice is low and delicate. “You’re pale. Are you cold?” 

You failed to contain your jolt of surprise, and a frown etches deep between his brows. “Is something wrong?” he says. 

You can hardly feel your face. “I’m fine,” you say, dismissing him with a shake of your head. “Just tired. Really tired.” You need to be back at the estate. You need to tell Taehyun what you just heard. 

Yeonjun’s face softens, and he pulls back. “Okay. Let’s get you to bed, then,” he says. 

You can’t help but gnaw at your already chewed cheeks and lips as he walks you home through the ice-capped forest. Your feet break through shrubbery and, though some snap back up and claw at your legs, you can barely register their sting through the fogging of your brain. You’re not sure exactly what or when, but something is going to happen at The Hovel.  

❆

You suck in breaths through your nose, holding your pounding chest as you come flying through the front door of the estate. You visit each of the rooms Taehyun frequents—his room, the sparring quarters, the war room—you find him in none of them.  

You groan. Is he still at Court? Yeonjun had only just dropped you off here; seeking out Taehyun at Court would be a risky move. If he decides that he’s not done with the day and you run into him... You don’t even have a time, nor any idea what is actually going to be happening at The Hovel, to offer Taehyun anyway. But there’s this electricity flowing through your veins. It urges you to move; to do something.  

You pace the floor of the estate furiously until you fear you may look down and find the wood weathered and worn down by your boots. Once you’re sure that enough time has passed and Yeonjun would have cleared the flat and the wooded area, you set for Court with your mind racing in the very same way your heart does. 

Your feet carry you with the lightness of determination and will until you find yourself looking onto the warm, dancing lights of Court. You let yourself fear the consequences of what Yeonjun spotting you might bring for only a moment before you stamp it out and slip through the old pillar trees and join the merriments of Court with every morsel of bravery you have in you. 

Your eyes rake over the scene. You filter out the noise of dancing bodies and opt for tunneling in on the faeries standing still and making conversation—that’s where you’ll find Taehyun. There are multiple groups and bundles littering the floor, and yet, you find that tall head of hair and cold face in none of them. You soothe over your dress with anxious hands as you narrow your eyes and look over the hall again. If not conversation, where is he? 

Your eyes brush past a tall, brooding figure posted at the end of a table, his arms crossed and a heavy sword at his hip. Your eyes sweep back for a double take. Taehyun. 

 You restrain the initial urge to pick the hem of your dress off the floor and take off for him. It would only bring curious eyes your way, and you absolutely do not need that. You need to keep a low profile, like how a spy would. You forget yourself more with each moment you spend at Yeonjun’s side. Fearing attention is what you should be doing, not just as a spy, but as a human intermingling with cruel faerie courts, anyway. You make your way through the thick bunches of court-goers and tables. 

Taehyun’s brows furrow when he spots you, full of questioning. You don’t usually seek each other out during court; it’s easier to float below everybody’s attention when separate. 

Your veins buzz, thrilled to spill every word that has been sitting on your tongue with urgency. “Taehyun,” you say, closing the last steps of distance between you. “I have something to tell you, but... I can’t say it here.” He scans your surroundings, and you can see curiosity brimming all over him. He doesn’t ask the questions he has on his mind, though, simply departing from his post at the table and sifting through the crowds. You follow.  

Only once you’ve left the hall that holds court and are into the trees does he ask, “You found something?”  

You nod, but hasten your pace. Not only is the outside air biting into your skin without any tall bonfires to ward it away, but you’ve felt watched for a while now. The woods that you use as a segway between Court and Taehyun’s estate no longer feels like a haven—instead of just ancient holly and pine trees decorating the snowy grounds, you feel eyes on trees and ears in bushes. Taehyun doesn’t push any when you don’t explain, his face only grows increasingly grim. 

When you’re surrounded by the sturdy, familiar walls of the estate you finally stop and lean into the dining table, running your hands over your face. Taehyun’s shoulders have become tensed and rigid. Your silence must be getting under his skin. 

“I was out with Yeonjun, and I heard something. It was like—” 

Taehyun cuts you off, his face souring. “Why weren’t you at Court? Where were you?”  

“A bonfire,” you say, avoiding his other question. “Just with some of his friends. But that’s not the point. The point is that there was somebody there that was talking about The Queen knowing something, and that something is supposed to happen at The Hovel for it. He said something about how she has to deal with it before the solstice.” Your words run over each other and twist with the way you hurry to get their weight off your tongue.  

Taehyun seems to process your jumbles of information for a moment before he says, “What did he look like?”  

“He had bark skin, and was pretty tall,” you say. “I didn’t hear his name, or anything. Do you think you know him?”  

He shakes his head. “I don’t. Did Yeonjun?” he asks, and something in his tone feels accusatory.  

You shake your head. You’re not sure why you do it. “No, but that wasn’t all. There was something he said,”—your stomach flips at the memory— “it just felt off.” 

“What?” 

“He said that he had heard about whatever is happening at The Hovel from a bird,” you say, fiddling with frayed nerves at a heavy jewel hanging in your ear that Yeonjun had gifted you.  

You recognize the look that etches itself into his features as you say it—it mirrors exactly the way your insides twisted when you had heard it. “We have to go see what’s going to happen, Taehyun. I mean, The Queen is involved! Doesn’t it all feel like it’s something bigger? What if that guy who attacked us was in on it?” You toe the wood flooring. “I feel weird about it.” 

His face pulls into a grimace, but he nods. “We can check it out,” he says. “But I’m still wondering why you were out in the middle of the forest with a group of strangers, instead of at court where you should be.”  

You cross your arms over your chest. “I’m doing what you told me to do,” you say, tired of this conversation. “You asked me to make a show out of it, so I am. It was a little hangout with his friends, and Yeonjun was there with me anyway.”   

“There’s no purpose in showing yourself off to his friends,” he says, his voice taking on a biting, sword edge. “Listen to yourself,” he says, throwing his hands up in an exasperated gesture. “I don’t care if Yeonjun was there. You were in the woods, surrounded by only him and his friends, alone. You found out for yourself what kind of company he keeps, didn’t you? What makes you so sure that he would choose you over your friends?” he sneers, and then his jaw sets. “I don’t care how much you’re practicing, or how many weapons you wear, you should be smarter than to put yourself into situations like that.” 

You spin on your heel, venom spinning itself up potent and mean in your mouth. You choose to keep it there despite the way it sours and begs for you to spit it all out.  

Taehyun’s fingers dig into your wrist as he catches it, as firm and unforgiving as his temper. “Don’t walk away from me,” he grits out. You throw your head back in an effort to keep yourself together, but all the effort it had taken you to not explode suddenly slips through your fingers like water.  

You rip your arm from out of his hand, scathing him with your eyes. “It’s not up to you. If you want me to do something, then tell me. Otherwise, leave me alone. I’m tired of you acting like I don’t have my own brain. I can decide for myself what’s safe and what’s not.” 

He shakes his head, tugging at the collar of his tunic as if it’s stifling around his neck. “I know you can,” he says, his words trained. “I expect more than whatever this is from you. This behavior is unbecoming of a spy.”  

Your shoulders slump heavy with his words. “What? What is?” you say. “We’ve found nothing of value in court. The only thing you ever brought us fell flat on its face, and you brought me closer to death than I ever have. So, tell me how what I did is so awful? I found us something to follow. Can’t you just acknowledge that and move on, without reaching to find something to criticize me for?” 

When you study his face, you expect to find only his torturous mask of ice, but you find his eyes at war with his face. While he seems to be trying to pull that mask over his face, he’s unsuccessful in smoothing over the layered, flickering emotion that his eyes are brimming with. You’re unsure of which emotions you see there. They’re knotty and thorny, and so viscous that you can’t see through or discern them. He doesn’t reply, only pressing his mouth into a thin, cruel line. You wish you could read his eyes and see there what he can’t seem to say with his words. When Taehyun feels his mask slipping away from him, he frantically grasps at straws of rage and mean words to distract from it. 

“Yeah, I’m going to bed,” you say. You know it’s not what this conversation needs; you know that what you need to do is stay here and talk, but that would just be a waste of your time. Taehyun will never offer you the amount of bare emotion that something like that would require, and so you just save yourself the frustration. 

 You chew over more angry words as you storm off for your quarters. Taehyun does not make any attempts to stop you. 

❆

Your eyes flutter open, and you blink them a few times to adjust to the morning rays of light. Birds trill outside your window.  

Your bedding is a warming embrace around you, and it has your eyes drooping and mind fuzzy with sleep just as quickly as you had awoken. You fight it for only a few moments before letting sleep settle itself into your bones once more. 

Your eyes pop back open as the sharp sound of something small and hard colliding with glass rings through your room. You sit up, removing yourself regretfully from the nurturing arms of your bedsheets, and listen. You jump when it happens again. It’s coming from your window. You slide regretfully from the bed and rub at your eyes before padding over to your window. 

You frown at Yeonjun’s silhouette staring up to you from the ground, his hands in his pockets. The grin that he plastered over his mouth when he spots you in the window tells you that he is aware of the fact he had just dragged you out of your slumber. You push open the window, grimacing down at him. 

“Why don’t you just go through the front door?” you gripe, running fingers through your tangle of hair. “Like a normal person would.” 

He tilts his head, swiping his tongue over his lips. “I’m not normal,” he snarks. “You should know that by now, pretty. Do you need me to show you how special I am again?” 

You flush at his innuendo. 

“Tell me why you’re throwing rocks at my window at this hour,” you say, skirting around his words. 

He scoffs. “This hour? What time do you think it is? It’s midday, darling.”  

It’s midday? You’d slept like a rock. 

“Anyway,” he says, “can’t a man just visit a pretty lady? You look lovely fresh from bed, might I add.” He waggles his brows in a gaudy, overdone way.  

You grab at the open window. “Tell me why you’re here, or else I swear I’m closing this window and going back to bed.” 

Yeonjun snorts, leaning his shoulder into the tree at his side. “I have somewhere to take you.” 

You can’t help but remember how Taehyun had scorned you last night for something just like this.  

You shoot a suspicious look down at him. “Where?” 

“Somewhere,” he says. “You’ll love it. I promise.” 

You close the window, saving your room from the bite of the morning air. You have such little time here with Yeonjun. It wouldn’t hurt to use your time together to its fullest extent. A knot forms in your throat as you think of the day you leave this place for home. Would Yeonjun follow you? 

You meet him outside. Your breath furls from your mouth in white plumes, and his nose is tinted pinkish. You quirk an eyebrow, hunched and rallying your own warmth with your arms wrapped around yourself. “What’s inspired you to drag me from my sleep today?” you say. 

Yeonjun shakes his head, eyes creasing into a sweet, sweet smile that wraps your cold bones and rids you of chills. “You’ve seemed worried recently. Is it so wrong for me to take you away for only a day? Would your lord object to even that?” 

You hadn’t realized how much your double life has been weighing down on you. Is it that obvious? He must’ve been worrying. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, kicking at a snow-tufted tree root jutting from the ground. "I haven’t meant to be uptight, or anything.” Your skin prickles as straying snowflakes twirl down and pepper your skin. 

Yeonjun takes your chin in a firm hand, turning your face up from the ground to meet his own. He shakes his head at you, his eyes firm. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “You don’t have to apologize for being tired, or worried, or whatever it is. Not to me, at least. Let me take care of you; let me make it better.”  

If your heart was fluttering before, it has grown legs and escaped you by now. You blink once, twice, or even three full times before you suck your lips in and give him a wordless nod. He smiles a content smile, running his thumb just under the plumpness of your bottom lip. “Good,” he says, voice thick. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips that leaves the cold skin of your cheeks warring against the blush that rises there. He slides a warming arm around you and leads you around the estate.  

You pause as you round the corner and catch sight of a powerful, pearly-coated creature standing on the front grounds. It paws the ground, muscles rippling under its shining pelt.  

“I am not getting on that thing,” you say, looking between Yeonjun and the frilly horse with your eyes blown wide. Horses are something only the gentry use as means of transportation—the rest of faerie ride by other means or simply by foot. This one is perhaps the second you’ve seen in the entirety of your life. You gawk at its long, powerful legs. 

Yeonjun digs into a pouch that sits on the white flank of the creature, a taunting twist to his face. “You’re afraid of horses?” 

His words rile you. “No,” you say, voice tilting up in affront. You reach out to run your fingers over the smooth surface of its neck and retract your hand when the muscles there flinch. Yeonjun, or perhaps his attendants, must care for it well. Its tail is laced with flowers of faerie, only unwilted for the fact that they have some form of faerie enchantment placed over them, and its mane is a white, dripping silk that does not even look windblown, though you assume Yeonjun had ridden it here. It seems that all things flourish under Yeonjun’s touch. “I’ve just never been on one before.” 

He finishes rummaging through the pouch and produces something from it. A thick, fur-lined coverup made of white deerskin, inlaid with whorls of silvery thread. He offers it to you, and you gladly drown yourself in it. You sigh as it thaws out your skin. "I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says, reassuring you before kicking himself up over the top of the horse with practiced ease the speaks to his upbringing. He looks exceedingly princely as he extends his hand down to you, his hair falling into his eyes and his lips lined with charm. When you hesitate, eyeing up the climb onto the horse, he adds, “Trust me.” 

And you do. Perhaps it’s foolish in a world built with elaborately hidden non-truths into its seams, but you do. You’re unsure of whether it emphasizes your foolishness or Yeonjun’s innate charm. You take his hand and slide your foot into the stirrup. You teeter on one leg before you feel the firmness of his hand in yours, and you throw the other one up and over, and then you’re seated on the solid back of the impressive creature. You laugh in disbelief, looking around at the world from this height. When you look down at the floor beneath you, you gasp and circle your arms around Yeonjun’s middle. 

He runs and hand over yours, interlocking your fingers over his abdomen. “Hold on well, okay?” he says over his shoulder. He pats your hands before taking the reins into his own. You dig your fingers into the front of his doublet and press your cheek into his back, squeezing your eyes closed. When he feels your hold tighten, he snaps the reins. The way that the horse whinnies and then takes off, moving faster than you’ve ever moved within only a few blinks, has you reeling. The pull of the speed that you bolt with makes it feel as though you’ll tip back or fly off the rear of the being. You scoot yourself closer to Yeonjun; so close that your front melds into the hardness of his back, the muscles there tensed as he works on guiding the horse.  

Wind whips your hair behind you, and you’re thankful for the way trees begin to litter the scenery. You slow to a trot, winding through ancient, towering trees gray of bark and crawling with lichen. The ambience of the silvery light rays that filter through the branch overhang and the singing of little songbirds has you breathing in until you feel as though you are bursting with air and then releasing it all in a deep, deep sigh. Hoofbeats form a deep, resounding song that you find yourself lost in. 

“You’re quiet back there,” Yeonjun says. You can feel the reverberations of his voice through your cheek.  

You hum, letting your eyes droop closed. “Mhm.” 

A laugh rumbles deep in his chest. “Are you going to fall asleep?” he says, and you can hear his smile in his voice. “We’re not too far from where we’re going, pretty. Why are you so sleepy? You didn’t go to bed too late last night.” 

His question drains every bit of exhaustion from you. You manage the tensing of your limbs carefully. To him, you had gone to bed early last night, but you were too busy sneaking around him and tossing in your bed to get a full night’s sleep last night. “I don’t know,” you say. Your lie is wretched in your mouth and mind. You’re sat on the back of his royal steed and he’s taking you somewhere because he’s worried about you, and you have the gall to lie to him straight through your teeth. For the first time, you envy the faerie composition for their inability to lie. Words claw long, raking welts down your throat as you tamper them down and pretend that they are not there. If you ever tell him your truth, it shouldn’t be now. 

The trotting of the horse turns into leisurely walk. You sit up. Your surroundings look no more special than the last thirty minutes had.  

“We’re here?” you say. 

He slides off the back of the horse, his feet meeting the forest floor the only sound bar the typical buzzing of the forest. He offers you his arm. “We are.” 

Despite his help, your descent is marginally less graceful than his. “Here, where?” you do a full spin before leveling him a curious stare. “This forest is nice, I suppose, but...” 

“I’ve spoiled you rotten,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “This isn’t enough for you? I mean, these trees are just something else.” 

You know the sparkle in his eyes is all taunt. You narrow your eyes at him. “It’s beautiful, yeah... But I could’ve gone tree gazing literally anywhere else.” You inspect the hollows between trees and the forest floor for some sort of faerie trick or veiling.  

He smirks off your complaining, producing a small, silken cloth from the horse’s satchel. He unfolds it to unveil a glistening, plump chunk of Lachrymose. Faerie fruit.  

“What is that for?” you say, giving him an incredulous stare.  

He raises it to you. The dusty blue skin of it is coated in a fuzz. You’re not mistaken at all—that is faerie fruit. “I need you to eat it,” Yeonjun says. 

“But that’s Lachrymose,” you say. “It’s faerie fruit. I can’t eat that. Why do you want me to eat it?” Shame tickles at your skull as you replay Taehyun’s words from last night. Yeonjun has showered you with nothing but his affection, you have no reason to doubt his intentions now.  

“I know,” he says. “I know it is. Do you trust me?” 

Do you? He had led you here to the forest and now is holding the fruit known to drunken your kind. Taehyun’s words double, and they meld with all that you know about the folk. They don’t care about you. What makes this faerie prince any different? Who’s to say that he didn’t bring you out here with ill intent? It’s not like anybody would come searching for you, anyway.  

But, despite it all, you do. You trust Yeonjun with the blazing intensity of a girl who has not known what it is to be treated delicately. You trust Yeonjun even if it is to a fault. You nod.  

He brings the chunk of yellow-pulp fruit to his lips, and his bite is punctuated by the crisp puncturing of the skin. He chews the fruit and swallows it, and then swipes his tongue over the pink of his lips to collect the thick nectar there. He drops the fruit to the ground. 

Any words or questions die in your throat as he crashes his lips into yours. He rolls his tongue around yours and brings his hands up to hold your face in place. You mewl surprise into his mouth, but the cloying flavor of the nectar lingering on his tongue has each inch of your skin buzzing with the twinkle of faerie enchantment. The taste of Yeonjun mingles with the fruit in a way that seizes your senses. He licks at your bottom lip before pulling off of your mouth. The black of his pupil threatens to drink his eye whole, his eyes dilated and heavy with rolling lust.  

You reclaim your stolen breaths as you watch him and his wet lips, but something behind him catches your attention. You peer around him.  

Behind Yeonjun are multiple merchant stalls so full of odd ornaments and draping fabrics that you fear they’ll spill over onto the forest ground, seemingly appearing where nothing had stood before. Behind the stalls stand a myriad of different fairfolk, some haggling with customers and some fussing over their goods. Your feet grow roots into the ground and you gawk at the scene in front of you. 

“How?—” 

Yeonjun pats the flank of the horse, looping a lead around its gear and making a tree the anchor for the other end. “Faerie fruit is intoxicating to humans, yes,” he says, “but at lower doses it gives you true sight.” He looks over the little marketplace. “There’s so much of Faerie that you miss. Hidden places like this... I want to show you all of them. This is your home, too, isn’t it?” 

Your eyes burn and your throat burns as you strain to bottle your tears up. Your home.  

He takes one of your hands and gestures toward the stalls in a pointing gesture. “Come on, let’s see what they’ve put out for sale.”  

You peruse the stalls with only your eyes for a few moments before walking up to one. This one, you find as you approach the stall, has art for sale. Canvases slathered with paint and telling stories of betrayals and greatness are propped up on display easels, so plentiful that the shopkeeper began littering them about the ground as well. Earthenware and pottery glazed in sparkling silvers and bronzes stand tall and beautiful alongside them. You can’t help but notice that the subjects of the art pieces are all human. 

You drift to the next stall, but Yeonjun stays admiring the art pieces. This one boasts an odd collection of all sorts of seemingly stolen things. Piles of worn buttons and door handles and all other sorts of trinkets. You look over all the hanging baubles and dangling metal pieces that chime when a breeze worms through them. Much of it you can’t even recognize what sort of purpose it may serve, or at least what purpose it may have served at some point. 

It’s all human. 

A gnarled voice startles you. “Do you not see something you like, girl?” says the goblin shopkeeper as he peeks up and over the piles of his selection. The cap on his head is pointed and red, and his ears membranous and bat-like. You immediately know upon seeing him that all of this was gathered by the shopkeeper himself, and not bought off of suppliers. Goblins are infamous for their sticky fingers and fondness toward inconsequential human things like these. He zeroes in on a heavy, unfamiliar coin in your hands, his nose snuffling on his pointed snout. “That’ll run you a fair chunk of your hair.” 

“Oh, I’m just looking,” you say, letting the coin drop back into the piles of unsorted knick-knacks. “Is this all human goods?” 

The shopkeeper chortles. “This is a market for human things, girl. You’ll be harder pressed to find something of faerie make here.” 

Your heart skips a couple beats. Yeonjun had brought you here because he thought being among human things might comfort you.  

You move on to the next stall. This one offers delicate works of silver—earrings, necklaces, bangles, and even cold silver weaponry. You pick up a resplendent dagger, embellished with a myriad of swirling carvings running up the handle. You test its weight. It is heavy and the blade of it is in great shape. The ones you have been using from the arsenal at Taehyun’s estate pale in comparison. 

“Anything catching your eye?” Yeonjun says, his voice sneaking up to your left. He must’ve caught up to you while you were busy browsing. 

You nod, holding up the dagger of silver. "This is gorgeous.” 

He gives you an odd look, tilting his head as he looks down at the weapon and then up at you. “What would you need a weapon for?” he says. “Not that it isn’t lovely.” 

You laugh, and you hope it doesn’t sound as nervous as you feel. “I was just saying that it’s nice,” you say, shrugging. It’s hard to part from the beautiful, silver thing as you place it back down. 

“This is all human stuff, isn’t it?” You turn to look at him. 

He smiles, and his nose crinkles with it. “So, you noticed,” he says. “I thought you might like it.” 

“I do,” you say. “I... I didn’t know there was anything like this here.” You gesture at the market around you, seemingly risen from plain snow and tree. It doesn’t make any bit of sense that there would be a market for human things when faerie craft is unfathomably superior. “I’m not sure why, though. It’s all so...” You mull over a way to put your thoughts into word for a moment. You look over the selection of the stalls, their goods dented and rusting and frayed around the edges. “Lackluster.” 

He shakes his head, looking back at the paintings of the first stall that he had hovered at. “What makes you say that?” he says.

You pick up a necklace on a white gold chain, heavy with a weeping pearl at its apex, from a pile of other odds and ends. “A lot of it is pretty,” you acknowledge, bringing the pearl into your palm and feeling the imperfect shape of it. The color of it is a pale, oil spill mauve shade that you’ve never seen on a pearl, and it is not lovely and round like other pearls, either. “But none of it really matters, like handcraft here does. Like, those paintings don’t strike love in the viewer’s heart...” You look around, and your eyes are pulled like gravity to the blade that you had laid down. “And that dagger doesn’t gift its wielder the blessing of guaranteed victory in any fight they bring to it. They’re just... stuff.” 

Yeonjun takes the necklace from your hands. He reaches around you, clasping the ends of it at the back of your neck. He picks up the drooping pearl from where it dangles about your cleavage, observing it and spinning it in his fingers. “Maybe this necklace isn’t inlaid with magic. Maybe it doesn’t gift its wearer boundless beauty, or act as a ward against evil enchantments. But how I look at it, somebody worked hard days of their lives learning the skillset and working their fingers raw to finally be able to make a piece like this. They had no faerie magic to help them do it, and they did not have the long lifespan of a faerie, either. Their lives were short and valuable, and yet, they spent their scarce time mastering their craft until they made this. Don’t you think that is more lovely than any faerie thing?” 

You take the necklace into your own hand. Suddenly, the weight of it on your chest is more right than anything ever before. The junk around you begins to sparkle with the light of someone’s passions.  

“It looks lovely around your neck, darling,” he says. The husky timbre that is spun into the words makes your skin burn. “It’s yours. Whatever you want from here is yours.” 

You shake your head, still holding the pearl between your fingers and feeling its shape and temperature. “This is all I want.”

He smiles at you before pulling out a heavy bagful of coins, handing it to the shopkeeper who finally looks up from his ministrations behind the counter. “The necklace for the lady,” Yeonjun says. The shopkeeper’s eyes almost bug out of his head as he accepts the jingling pouch of coins that is visibly too much for just the necklace, but he does not protest or point it out. 

Your heart tugs. That shopkeeper knows Yeonjun is prince—there is not a sentient being in these lands that does not know his title. Yeonjun could’ve asked for the necklace and the shopkeeper would’ve given it to him. Maybe a bit begrudgingly, but he would. And yet, Yeonjun handed him the payment for the necklace and more. The amount of money that Yeonjun just handed him is no dent to him, but to the shopkeeper... 

“C’mon,” Yeonjun says, looping his arm around you. “We don’t have long before your true sight fades off. Let’s look at everything before then, yeah?” 

You nod, leaning into his touch. You’re not sure you ever want that fruit to fade; not sure you ever want to leave the forest and face what you’re really here for. But, at least for the time you have here, you’ll pretend that this is it. 

❆

You bound down the stairs, greeting Taehyun with a nod of your head when you spot him leaned against the wall by the door. He returns your nod. It’s the first you’ve seen of him in a few days. 

You frown at him. He looks as if he’s been waiting on you. What other reason would he be hovering around the front door? 

“What’s up?” you say. 

He lets out a sigh, laced with frustration. “Whatever they’re doing at The Hovel, they’ve got it under wraps. It doesn’t matter if I sit there for half the day; nothing but usual customers pass through.”  

You appreciate that he doesn’t mention how your information might be null, despite the fact that you know he’s thinking it. You are. Hopefully, it’s not because you whined so much about being taken seriously that he just accommodates you like a moody toddler. That can’t be the truth, though. If he’s taken multiple of his own days from your finite time here in the north to check it out, he has to believe that it holds some water.  

Shrugging, you say, “We could just leave it, if it doesn’t seem like it’s actually anything.” 

He shakes his head. “No. We’re going to follow this through,” he says. “Get some shoes on. I want to bring you with me, this time.” 

He wants you to come this time. He wants your help. Maybe he’s just saying it to mend the tension that seems to be a permanent aspect of your relationship, but that doesn’t feel like Taehyun’s style. It feels dizzyingly validating for each of the nights you’ve spent running through your sword fighting skills until you wore your muscles down, even when you felt you might collapse.  

You bend down to lace up your boots. Your necklace dangles from your chest, swinging and bumping your chin as you do. When you stand to ask him why he believes you being there might help, you pause as you catch his eyes trained intensely at your chest. You furrow your brows, thrown off by the smolder in his narrowed eyes.  

He steps toward you, reaching up and taking Yeonjun’s necklace from where it rests. His fingers brush right where your breasts begin, if only for a brief, heart-stopping moment. “Where did you get this?” he asks, his tone flat and untelling, but his eyes blaze and do not flicker away from the pearl around your neck for even a moment.  

You can’t muster an answer for a few beats, blundering with his sudden and uncalled for intensity. But, when you finally can, your voice wavers. You have no reason to have guilt roiling in your belly for wearing Yeonjun’s necklace, but you do. “Some market that sells human stuff,” you say. 

His face tightens. “How did you get there?” he says. He must know exactly which market. He won’t look at you. “It’s from Yeonjun,” he says, more a statement than a question. He sounds scorned, as if you wearing some necklace has any reason to encourage this sort of reaction.   

You wince, ready for him to berate you for drowning yourself in Yeonjun’s luxuries, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drops the necklace as if it’s cold iron searing into his skin, stepping back from you. “Let’s go,” he says, cold and sharp and short. 

There it goes; a smooth, flawless mask slides over his face and clicks into place without falter. You’ve become so sick of staring into an emotionless face. 

“No,” you say, crossing your arms. 

His eyebrows shoot up. “No?” he echoes. 

“You’re angry about something. What’s your problem?” You narrow your eyes at him.  

“My problem?” he asks, his lip curling. “I have no problem. We need to go.” 

You bark out a barbed laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Sure, let’s do this again. You lead the way.” You gesture at the door in an overblown, dramatic wave of your arm, utterly sardonic. 

He gives you a long look before he does. When the heavy wood door swings open, a cold front of air blasts in, smacking you in the face. You snatch a woolen cloak up from near the door, wrapping yourself up in it and following Taehyun out into whipping wind. 

You drag your feet through snow without any complaint or word exchanged with Taehyun—it’s not the first time you’ve braved a snow storm alongside a sickeningly quiet Taehyun, anyway. 

❆

As you hook your boot into a low-hanging branch, tugging yourself up on unsure arms, you look up to see Taehyun already squatted and settled onto a thick branch a few levels up. He reaches a hand down to you, and you take it, amazed by how much easier it makes the rest of your climb up feel. You remember the buff of his forearms and the feel of them wrapped around you like solid metal through flickering memories, and it adds up. Taehyun does not just wield weapons well; his whole body is honed and molded to be used just as well as any weapon from what you’re sure are from years of spy work and being a general’s son.  

You wobble on this higher branch, wrapping an arm around the trunk of the tree when you look down and see how high you are from the ground. Though it is powdered generously with a white layer of snow, you’re sure that fall would hurt. You focus on breathing. You’re not sure you would, if you don’t. 

Taehyun and you had made the trek to this forest in a familiar, tense silence, only broken when he told you that you’d be climbing into a tree and keeping a bird's eye view of the path to The Hovel. Even now, he won’t address you. It irks you down to your soul; you had done nothing to deserve a cold shoulder from him.  

Taehyun readjusts his footing on the branch and it wobbles under your feet, creaking. Your heart jumps up into your throat, and your arms encircle the tree until it aches. Bark bites your skin, but you couldn’t care less.  

“You need to relax,” Taehyun says. “The more tense you are up here, the more likely it is that you’ll actually fall.” 

You breathe out through your nose shakily, gritting your teeth. “It’s not that easy.” 

“I know it isn’t,” he says, placing a steadying hand on your back. “But you have to.” 

 You attempt to let go of the trunk, but the second you let go, you find that your footing is insufficient, and you teeter. Your arms are back around the tree faster than you can even think. 

“I didn’t say let go of the tree.” 

You bite back a snark, opting to focus your energy on not slipping and cracking your neck. You would not be this uptight if the branches weren’t coated here and there in sheets of snow that has hardened into ice, making good foot placement imperative. 

“How long are we going to be sitting up here?” you ask. You’re thankful for the way the branches and pine needles shelter you from the wind, but you’re unsure of how long you can handle the feeling of your lungs frozen in fear. 

“A while.” he says. 

You shudder out a breath at that. Well, if the tense atmosphere between you two wasn’t already enough on your plate, the threat of falling from this height is a lovely addition. 

The two of you sit perched and hidden in the trees without so much as a passerby for awful stretches of hours. The more you throw yourself into listening and watching, despite the absence of anything to listen or watch, the less taut your muscles grow. At some point, you’re able to let go of the tree, holding to the branch underneath you. You grow intensely bored by the monotonous sight of falling snow and the occasional forest creature. Of course, nobody is visiting The Hovel today. Who would be? 

“Okay, I think it’s safe to call it quits, Taehyun,” you say. Your knees ache furiously from the constant crouch you’re sat in, and you’re reaching your measly human threshold for cold temperatures despite your bundling. “Nobody’s coming. I’m sorry, I guess I interpreted things wrong. Let’s just cut our losses and go back.” 

Taehyun looks at you with a strange look in his eyes. “I’ve been doing this for days. For days, I’ve been sat up in these trees and poking around the place. Do you think I’d waste that time on something that sounds like it could’ve been interpreted wrong?” he snaps. “None of that sounded like coincidence. You found something good, and we’re not going to leave it now.” 

He says the words a bit harsher than you had hoped, but in some odd way that only Taehyun could pull off, it feels like an apology for treating you like dead weight before. 

You huff. “If it’s nothing, you can’t say it’s my fault that we’ve wasted time on this.” 

He doesn’t answer, and the forest slips back into just the quiet howl of wind and rustling branches. You rest your cheek into the tree, submitting to another bout of painfully fruitless watching. 

Taehyun rustles on the branch next to you, sitting up and suddenly very alert. You shoot him a confused glance. There’s nothing and nobody in sight. You mouth the word “What?” at him.  

He presses a finger over his mouth in a shushing gesture, holding it there as he seems to listen to something that you can’t hear. He pulls his bow off his back, notching an arrow. Your heart thumps in your neck wildly as you watch him do it. What, exactly, does he hear? 

It’s a few long, long minutes before you start hearing anything. Indistinct chatter bounces off of trees and reaches you as a pair of faeries, one of them a long-limbed pixie and the other more humanoid aside from the pointed ears peeking out from his hair. You watch them trudge through the piling snow, unable to pick up their conversation from even this distance. 

Taehyun pulls the bowstring taut, aiming at the pixie one with deadly precision. Your eyes bulge, and you turn your gaze to him with a wide-eyed stare. You want to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, but you keep your mouth sealed water-tight. You can’t let them know you’re hidden away up here. 

The utterly remote look on Taehyun’s face, even while having his bow pulled tight and ready to shoot a killing arrow at them, makes you nauseous. He doesn’t look to you, he only narrows his eyes in on the pair, studying them. They look inconspicuous to your eyes—he won’t let that arrow fly, you tell yourself. You tell it to yourself again as he readjusts his squat to better angle at them as they travel further down the path. That consolation does not work, though, when he releases the arrow out onto the pixie. It whistles before piercing the faerie right in the neck. 

You cover your mouth so as to not cry out in shock, but the wail of the other faerie does the job for you. He drops to the floor, his eyes wide and his hands clasping around the entry point of the arrow as if to staunch the bleeding—as if it would save a man with an arrow through the neck. He looks up and around, searching for where the stray arrow had flown from, but Taehyun has you two hidden too perfectly among the branches.  

You look up to Taehyun. He’s loosing another arrow, locking it into place and lining it up with the living faerie, his hands steady in a killing calm. The poor faerie is only just able to realize how vulnerable they are to an arrow before one spears through his chest. Taehyun had aimed for his heart, and he had not missed. His eyes go wide, his skin draining of its color, before he crumples over himself and joins his companion on the ground. 

You watch the sight of their blood slowly embellishing the white snow unable to look away but so sick at the sight that you might bend over and hurl up your guts.  

‘Why the fuck did you just kill them?” you say, and it’s all you can manage to get past your paralyzed lips.  

When he turns away from his carnage and looks at you, all you can see is that detached face as he had made the conscious decision to let those arrows fly and rob those faeries of their lives without warning or even speaking to them. “They’re errand runners for The Queen,” he says before he slinks down the branches, landing on the forest ground. You follow him, suddenly lithe and unafraid of falling with the liquid adrenaline simmering in your bloodstream. 

“So, you shoot and kill them on sight?” you say. “They didn’t deserve that. The most they do is run messages for her, they have no part in any of this.” Your lips tremble as you avoid looking at their still bodies, already losing heat in the snow. You can’t look; not this close. Down here, at their height, you can almost imagine the fear of looking up and knowing that someone sits somewhere in the shadows and knowing that you will be the next on the ground. 

“That’s exactly it,” he says. “They run messages. We need those messages, and we wouldn’t have gotten them by just asking them and saying please.” The rustling sound tells you that he’s searching their bodies.  

You squeeze your eyes shut, the noxious tang of blood finally hitting your nose. Your knees feel like they’ll buckle under you as you remember a time where you had been the cause of that smell. Only a few long steps away from here, you had dug your dagger into the flesh of another living being. How many more times will you see death, now that you’ve found yourself as a spy? Will you one day be as desensitized to its presence as Taehyun is? 

No, you won’t. You can’t see yourself ever valuing the life of any living thing so little that you view it as some means to an end. 

“They had lives, Taehyun. You have no right taking the liberty of that into your own hands. What are you going to do if you find nothing on them? What are you going to do?” 

There’s some more rustling before Taehyun answers. “They would laugh to see you die.” 

It’s true. You know it’s true. Yet, you still can’t find justice in their deaths.   

“You don’t know that; you didn’t know them,” you say. 

He laughs, but it’s empty of what a laugh should be. It feels cold and mocking. “They all would. Every last one of them.” 

You spin on him, hearing his unspoken words. Yeonjun, too. “And you wouldn’t?” you hiss. As you finally look at him, you notice the folded-up paper he holds in his hands.  

His eyes flash. “I am not one of them.” 

Your eyes run over the roundness of his ears. No matter how round he may have sheared them, they can never soften the sharp faerie angles of his face. Not when you’ve seen him kill as wildly and beastly as they do. He has human running in his blood, and yet, the most terrible things you’ve seen have been at his hands. “Aren’t you?” you say. “I think it’s time you come to terms with the fact that you are, and learn how to live with it.” 

He looks at you with eyes of such intensity that you have to make sure you’re still breathing. “You know nothing about me,” he snarls.  

“Maybe I don’t,” you say, rubbing your hands together to fight the cold. “But... killing them, that wasn’t human.” 

“I’m not human, either,” he says, shaking his head. 

“Then, what are you, Taehyun?” you ask.  

He looks at you for a long time, his face unmoving as if he tries but cannot conjure up an answer. “I don’t know,” he says, his tongue lashing. The raw emotion consuming his features, cracking his mask of ice, softens you.  

“Why not?” you say, stepping toward him despite the turning of your stomach when the two fallen faeries come into view. The snow is already dusting them over and covering them; the earth reclaiming what is hers. “You don’t have to live your life in the shadow of that man. You don’t have to deny yourself your own identity because he was a monster. You are not him.”  

As quickly as he let it fall, Taehyun plasters his face in ice and stone. “You have no clue who I am, or what I’ve done.”  

With that last menacing line, Taehyun unfurls the piece of paper he pulled off the errand runners. You’re not sure if the chill resting at the base of your spine is you surpassing your threshold for freezing temperatures, or if the thought of Taehyun committing the same unimaginable atrocities as his father scares you that bad. With what you had just seen... Maybe Taehyun is the same monster that you’ve been continuously warned he could be.  

His brows pinch as he takes in what’s scrawled on the paper, slowly becoming translucent is some places as snow flurries down and falls on it.  

“What?” you say. You hope that whatever is on that paper is worth their lives. 

“It’s just a nursery rhyme,” he says, flipping the paper over to check if there’s anything more. There isn’t. 

You frown. “Let me see.” You take the paper from his hands. At the top sits a crude scribbling of a bird, and beneath it is a nursery rhyme you are vaguely familiar with.  

One for sorrow,  

Two for mirth, 

Three for a wedding,  

Four for a birth,  

Five for silver, 

Six for gold,  

Seven for a secret never to be told,  

Eight for a kiss, 

Nine for a wish, 

Nine for a bird you must not miss

It’s a rhyme about magpies and the meaning behind the numbers you might see them in. On the paper, the last line is written over many times, the writing jagged and almost violent. At the bottom, there are the words tomorrow day written, small and less likely to draw the eye than the bold lines of the rhyme. Your mind freezes up. 

“Taehyun,” you say, swallowing hard. “Do you remember what kind of bird we found dead before I got attacked?” 

He nods, as if catching on to what you’re saying. “It was a magpie.” 

“And everybody is talking in these... codes about birds, right. There is some kind of organized thing happening here, Taehyun, and it involves The Queen. And, down there,” you say, pointing at the bottom of the paper. “Do you think it means that tomorrow is when it’s happening?” 

He thinks for a long moment, probably running through any other possibilities. He nods. “Sounds like it,” he says, inspecting the paper for another few beats before folding it back up and stashing it away. “Let’s get back before it gets too dark.” 

You look up at the overcast and dimming sky, nodding. You’re not sure what you’re going to run into tomorrow at that hidden little tavern, but you feel that you’ll need a better night’s sleep to face it than you’ve been getting. “Okay,” you say. 

❆

You didn’t sleep well last night. Not at all. You tossed and turned, torn between trying to figure out what all the stuff you’re finding could mean and spinning your conversation with Taehyun over and over in your head until you’re sick of it, and then you spin it some more. You thought of the dead indifference on his face as he killed them, and you thought of what he had told you. You have no idea who I am, or what I’ve done. You had hoped for some showcase of the monster that everybody paints him out to be, and you had gotten it.  

You know that the life of a spy is not a cake walk—you know it comes with violence and the constant threat of death. Killing those errand runners was clearly vital to discovering whatever The Queen has going on, and that note was a great help, yeah. Sure. But you can’t convince yourself that the loss of their lives was justifiable. You just can’t. Not even when the inhabitants of this world would do the same unto you without any such remorse. 

When you tug yourself out of bed and meet Taehyun out by the blackthorn tree, he looks at you strangely. You must look as sleep deprived as you feel. He doesn’t mention it, though, and only runs his eyes over you to check if you’ve armed yourself adequately. Nodding in approval, he sets out. 

Once you’ve cleared the trek to The Hovel and are looking upon the little hidey-hole entrance, you suck in a shuddering breath. This moment had plagued you last night, too. You run your hands down each place where you store away your hidden daggers—just for reassurance. 

“Same as last time,” Taehyun says, breaking the silence of the woods to preface your entering the tavern. “If we look like anything other than lord and human servant, we’re going to get attention that we don’t want. Especially when we don’t know who could be in here. If they were able to find out who we were last time, we need to be a thousand times more careful this time. Unless I tell you otherwise, you need to stick by me, understood?” 

You have to breathe manually, wiping your palms on your plain dress. You don’t have the luxury of wearing pants this time, no matter how much better it is in the case that you have to fight your way out of here. Female servants do not wear pants. “Understood,” you say, nodding your head and stepping into the mound entrance. 

Your entrance into the tavern is almost as wild and slippery as last time, but at least you know what to expect this time around. You scan the room as soon as you catch ground, smoothing down your dress. Instantly, you catch sight of Kai’s blonde mop of hair, leaned up against a dirt wall, strumming a fast-paced song on an instrument. The crowd is no busier than the first time you had been here, either.  

Maybe you had interpreted the paper wrong. Nothing looks amiss or curious. You let a little bit of your bottled-up stress out in a slow puff of air.  

When Taehyun appears next to you, you whisper to him, “What do we do?” 

He scans the room in a similar fashion that you had, before he cocks his head to the side in a follow me gesture. He pushes into the measly crowds. You follow him, weaving around drunken bodies and cackling, snaggle-tooth hobs until he comes to a stop. 

You suck in a breath. Of course, he had to head straight for Kai. Just your luck. Taehyun may think that Kai is a good source for information, but you really wish he would’ve picked quite literally anybody else to try and pull information from. Kai is Yeonjun’s friend, and you have no idea what might happen tonight. 

Kai looks up from his bored playing, and his brows shoot up as he spots you next to Taehyun. He doesn’t stop playing his music, though. You’re sure he could be asleep and his fingers would still be plucking strings. “Odd seeing you here,” he says, smiling at you before nodding his head in greetings to Taehyun. “Especially odd that you’re not with Yeonjun. What brings you here?” 

Taehyun looks between you and Kai. You know he’s wondering how you two might know each other.  

“Just out for some fun,” Taehyun says, cutting in and answering before you can. “She’s my ward, I’m unsure why she would make an appearance here with the prince.” There’s a distinct sour undertone to his words, but you can hardly determine why.  

Kai is undeterred by Taehyun’s brooding, a lilting smile tugging his lips up. He tilts his head to one side, and the action reveals a pair of short goat’s horns that peek from his hair. The brown of them compliments well his forest green doublet. “I’m sure you’re well aware of the prince’s fondness for her, then, if she’s your ward.”  

You had, when you first met him, thought that Kai fears Taehyun. Now, you’re more under the impression that he is not the type to really fear anyone.  

Taehyun’s lips pull into a muted frown, but you can tell that he’s ruffled by the stiffness of his shoulders. “I’ve been made aware of it, yes,” he says. His jaw feathers, and he turns his gaze on you. “Would you bring us some drinks?” he says. 

Kai gasps dramatically, furrowing his brows and placing a hand over his chest to feint offense. “That’s no way to treat a lady, Lord,” he says. “It’s no wonder she runs around with Yeonjun the way she does.” 

You resist the urge to snort when Taehyun grits his teeth. He’s only acting like that because it’s how most faeries treat their human servants, but Kai knows how to taunt in a way that meets its mark. 

“She is far from a lady,” Taehyun says, crossing his arms. “Grabbing a drink is a reasonable task for a servant, is it not?”  

You decide to just scurry off and grab drink to save yourself the effort of not laughing at him. When you find the tap barrels from which you had gotten drinks from last time, it’s the same barkeeper. He greets you, but his demeanor is totally different now. He doesn’t speak to you again as he flips up the taps and fills you some goblets. It unsettles you, but you had only interacted with him that one time. You don’t know him well enough to justify saying that he’s acting weird. 

You observe the patrons around you more closely while you wait for the drinks. If there is anything at all supposed to happen today like you had heard, they did a fine job of concealing it. You narrow your eyes, passing everybody over once more and then twice more. You had only been given a date, not a time. You may have to be here all day. 

“Your drinks,” the barkeeper says, jousting out the goblets. Some of the drinks spill over the top and seep into the dirt below. You accept them and try not to let any more go to waste as you slither through the crowds.  

Slipping back into Kai and Taehyun’s conversation, you hand Taehyun his drink. He doesn’t look at it or drink it; it’s more a prop than for his enjoyment.  

“Oh yeah?” Kai says, challenging something Taehyun must’ve said while you were away. He looks to you. “How would you like to dance to some of my music, Lady?” he asks.  

Dance? You look to Taehyun. You doubt he’d want you dancing right now.

He doesn’t object or shake his head like you think he might. 

“Right now?” you ask, looking around you to the faeries cavorting and spinning. “I’m not sure I should. Dancing is dangerous, you know?” 

Kai laughs, easing one song into another, more wild and twisting one. “You won’t lose yourself here. My music is different from other faerie music.” 

You step back so that you hover near where most of the dancing folk are, looking to Taehyun. You’re not sure if this is what you should be doing right now. What if something happens, and you’re here dancing carelessly while he needs you? Maybe it’ll work wonders to keep your cover if you look like a simple human girl losing herself to dancing. You look around once more, gnawing at your cheek, before asking Taehyun with your eyes again for any objections.

He smiles, leaning into the dirt wall behind him and crossing his arms. “Dance,” he says, his tone softer and more playful than you've heard from his lips before.

Well, if he wants you to dance, then you’ll dance. You pick up the ends of your dress and begin twirling and letting yourself fall into the intoxicating ups and downs of Kai’s music. Kai is right—the edges of your vision don’t blur, and you don’t feel your mind slipping away from you, but your cheeks do begin to flush as you tap your boots to the floor and let your hands swirl about to Kai’s singing voice. You feel the burning of Taehyun’s eyes on you. It sends an electric feeling up from the root of your feet to the center of your spine. You can’t explain why the weight of his eyes is so exhilarating, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that, for once, you are being free in front of him and he isn’t pretending that it’s the worst thing ever. Or, maybe, it’s because you remember the way he tastes.  

You look out from your spot of spinning and enjoying yourself to Taehyun. He rips his attention off of you when your eyes find him, sipping at his drink and looking over the tavern as if he had not been watching you at all.

Once your skin grows slick with effort and your thighs begin to burn, you crawl off the dancefloor and sidle up next to Taehyun.

Well, if he’s drinking, then you can drink too, right? You seek out yours, taking it into your hands. You swirl it and inspect it as you stand beside Taehyun. The bubbly liquid tornadoes beneath an unmoving, frothy layer on the top.  

You pause. You suppose you couldn’t have expected a place like this to have the highest quality wine. You sip it anyway—you intend to relish the sour taste of the plum wine. It’s a bit powdery upon the first drink; little grits of something wash down with the sweet fruitiness. Your nose crinkles. It’s nasty. 

Taehyun doesn’t speak with Kai any more. It seems that he did not have any of the information he had hoped he could find from him. Still, he stays nestled in the little corner where Kai prefers to perform in; you’re sure it’s because it keeps his back protected against the wall, not to mention it lets him observe the entirety of the tavern. Kai doesn’t seem to mind; he’s far more interested in his music, anyway.  

You try and look over the place as well, but there isn’t much to note. Faeries stumble around drunkenly when they aren’t tittering and dancing. Kai’s music begins to swirl and blur in your ears. You blink away the same blurring around the edges of your vision. That must be an awfully strong cup of wine. 

You affirm that none of it is indicative of some covert, shady thing that you’re anticipating. Your stomach feels heavy. Taehyun had sat out here for multiple days because he relied on you; he had killed those two errand runners because of your information. And here is the fruit of your efforts to contribute to this mission: you’re wasting your time in a shabby, dug out little tavern alongside drunken faeries, joining in on their debauchery with a drink in your own hand. You frown down at your cup of wine. The image of it bends and wobbles. 

“Did I do a bad job?” you ask. Your words slur, as if your lips can’t keep up.  

Taehyun stops his monitoring to look at you. His face is fuzzy in your eyes, but you can see the confusion written all over it. “What?” he says. 

You stumble a bit. Your feet don’t seem to be falling where you will them to. “I’m sorry,” you slur. “It’s my fault.” 

He rushes over to you. You don’t even notice you’re falling until he’s catching your weight, keeping you held upright. “Shit,” he says, snatching your drink from you. He inspects it for a moment, swirling it how you had earlier. Whatever he sees makes his face drop, his eyes hardening—as if preparing for something. For what? You lift your head with much effort. It feels dragged down to the earth. You blink and look around.  

Taehyun throws your drink to the ground, the goblet thudding against the dirt. You watch a few heads pop up from the crowd. They watch as Taehyun tries to carry you out. Your clumsy limbs make his efforts more difficult. You can feel him growing more desperate beside you until he curses under his breath, and then hoists you over his shoulder. The world spins around you until you’re staring down at the ground, and Taehyun is heading for the exit. Your fingers and toes buzz. 

Taehyun crawls up the entrance, all while you’re laying over his shoulder like dead weight. Fresh air burns your skin as he clears it. You watch the ground turn from trodden dirt and twigs to snow path. He secures an arm around your waist to steady you, and then he’s taking crashing through the forest. 

You can feel your mind slipping more, as something liquid and hot replaces your blood. You watch the ground pass you by, trying to count the bushes and study the shrubs in hopes that it’ll help you stay present. You can’t tell if it’s working. 

Taehyun stumbles to the ground. You, being on his shoulder, follow. The white blanket on the forest floor does not do anything to cushion the fall. Sharp foliage greets you, slicing up your skin. You bite down a warbled yelp as you struggle up onto your arms.  

Taehyun is hunched over into the snow, grunting into the ground. A bird-feather arrow pierces his shoulder, making the cloth around it dark and sticky with his blood. He writhes there for a moment that seems to stretch. You crawl toward him; you’re sure that if you stand, you’ll just fall anyway.  

“Taehyun.” You shake him. Your heart is up in your throat, choking you. “Taehyun, get up,” you beg. The ground thunders beneath you. There are people coming. Too many of them to fight off by yourself, if the roar of their approach is anything to go by. Adrenaline pumps through you, pushing out some of that substance and making room for itself. It sobers you up, just enough to grasp the dire situation you’re in. You can’t fight them in this state, and you’re not sure if Taehyun can now, either. “Please!” 

He trembles as pushes himself off the ground. The growled sounds of pure, undiluted pain he makes twists your stomach sick. “Do I pull it out?” you ask, your voice thin. Your words are still a bit slow and they still blend into one another, but at least you’re making sense now. 

He pants, shaking his head. “Break it off,” he grits out through his teeth. You crawl behind him on your knees to inspect the arrow. A short breath of relief slips past your lips. It’s shallow enough that you’re certain it didn’t puncture his lung. You bring your hands up and take the whittled shaft of the arrow into your hands. His shuddered breath as you do makes you pause. 

You can’t. You really, really can’t get your hands to move. You’re stricken down by fear, frozen by it. Your breaths come shallow and inadequate—as if your fear constricts your lungs and takes up the space where air should be. Approaching voices and the rumbling forest floor devastates every last ounce of rationality you’ve got in you. 

“Now,” he snaps. “Do it now. Break the end off, and get back. Don’t worry about me.” 

You blow out air, gripping the stem of the arrow harder. You betray your mind and wrench the thing down, trying to snap it in half. It doesn’t work, only digging the tip end of it around in his shoulder. You cover your mouth with your quivering hand as he roars, digging his fingers into his pant legs. His whole body is wracked with tremors at your clumsy hand. Acid crawls up your throat. You grab the portion that is nearest to his skin, holding it in place as you try and snap it again. It works this time. Taehyun’s chest rumbles with a deep, tortured groan under your hands, but it worked. 

He rises from the ground, his pupils blown wide and his skin clammy. He turns to face your pursuers, sliding his sword out. He takes on a defensive stance. There’s a grim set to his face. You wonder if he’s making peace with the impossibility of you making it out of this alive. He’s wounded, you’re not of the right state of mind, and you’d be outnumbered in even a perfect state. 

A flock of faeries you recognize from The Hovel surround you. A red cap with a gnarly scar scrawled across his face, a man with spindly black hair and jagged tusks that curl up from his mouth, and a lanky horned imp with beady eyes. All of them had been separate and inconspicuous when you had seen them, hidden between the crowds. Despite your imposition, you drag yourself off the ground. They don’t even spare you a passing glance. 

“I thought we’d just be snuffing out some forgettable flame today,” the red cap says, laughing. “Oh, could you have imagined it’d be the general’s son?” 

The one with the tusks barks a laugh from your left. He’s holding a bow—he’s the one who shot Taehyun down. “To think you gave your loyalties to The King, considering your own father’s loyalties to our queen,” he says, sneering at Taehyun. This is a hunt—they’ve chased you down like a wild animal, and now that the arrow has hit its mark, they intend to laugh and yip at you like prey. “You’re the spy,” he says, and then gestures at you, “and this is the human companion, then?” 

Taehyun doesn’t answer. 

“Fine. We don’t need your conversation to enjoy this, Lord.” He spits out Taehyun’s title in the very same way the man had during your first run-in that had taken place in this forest. They’re connected—it’s all connected in some grand scheme. And, The Queen is involved. Even if you and Taehyun make it out of this forest alive, leaving a single one of these lackeys alive would expose your identities. Not to mention, it would confirm the fact that The King has spies here. Even if you don’t die here, you and Taehyun are done. Where had you gone wrong? You’re not sure where any of this had slipped off. You hope that it’s just been to the effect of some grand plan much, much out of your own control. You hope it isn’t Taehyun’s blood on your hands, next. 

“I’d heard that you returned to Court recently,” the man continues. “I couldn’t have imagined that it would be because you’d return to your own Court as a spy. Is that why you ran off to those lands? To work at the hand of that worthless king? What would your father think?” 

Taehyun tenses up, the grip on his sword white-knuckled. You pray he doesn’t slip right into their taunting. If you’re to die here today, let it not be as their entertainment. The one thing you promised you would no longer be is their entertainment.  

The horned one cuts in, speaking for the first time. He sounds young. “Speak up, you piece of shit. You at least owe us your fear, for all you and your father did to these lands.” 

They’re growing more antsy and aggressive, their jaws snapping like hungry, circling wolves. You’re not sure how much longer they plan on just taunting.  

“And where is your allegiance?” Taehyun says, breaking his tense silence. “What is this?” He gestures at them with his sword. 

The three of them share a laugh, short and sardonic. The black-haired one speaks. “This is what happens when a worthless man sits on the throne for a millennium, expecting fealty for only his name. This is revolt.” 

You frown. As far as you know, the land of Faerie has never known a time where its denizens, specifically the ones that swore fealty to him, would outright denounce The King. A revolt is unheard of—the throne is an ancient, primordial thing. 

“The Queen is committing treason,” Taehyun says, low and menacing. “And so are you. What name do you call your insurgency?” 

The redcap answers. “We call ourselves The Magpies,” he says. There it is—it all makes sense. All the weird, cryptic words and the wobbly scent trail you and Taehyun have been following. That poem you found on those errand runners, that dead magpie you had found before getting attacked. One for sorrow. It was a message. All of this was a set up; they had intended for those errand runners to die, and they had anticipated you would catch wind and wind up here. You’ve walked yourselves into a wolf den, fully believing that you were the ones a step ahead. You walked yourselves to your deaths.  

No. You walked the two of you to your deaths.  

They don’t plan on you surviving. Them laying this all out for you attests to that. You don’t want to die; not now, not when you’ve found something to live for. Not when Yeonjun will have to deal with the loss of you.  

“C’mon. Where’s all your fight now? Where’s the man that tore down villages by his father’s side? Do something.” The redcap says. They all inch a little closer.  

Your heart stutters in your chest. You hope that he lies; that he’s embellishing Taehyun’s past. You look at Taehyun, and that dead, killing face is there. You know it’s true. He’s exactly the monster you’re supposed to be wary of. But you’re here clawing for your life right beside him. He’s here making a stand to protect you; he could run and leave you here in order to save his own life. You’d be stuck here on poisoned legs and be swiftly dealt with before they take off for him. But he doesn’t leave you. He won’t let you die alone. Is that the heart of a beast? 

“I am loyal to no king or queen,” Taehyun spits out. “Not to my father, either.” 

The red cap groans a patronizing groan. “You’re loyal to nothing, not even yourself. It’s why you fled your homeland the moment you could, isn’t it? You thought distance would change what you’d done?” 

You have to do something. They won’t expect you to, and to sit here would be to just lay down and accept it. You refuse to. If Taehyun can stick his neck out for you, you can try. Maybe your limbs are clumsy and drunken, but if you die, it won’t be for not trying. And, if you make it, you can sort all of this stuff out with Taehyun. 

You inspect the three men. They don’t have their eyes on you; you’ve got that to your advantage. Plus, your blade is made of cold iron. A normal stab would hurt, but a stab with iron would poison them. If you can eliminate at least one of them, you’ll even the playing field just enough for a real fighting chance. You narrow your eyes. You’ll have to use the fact that they aren’t paying attention to you the most efficiently you can—you have to get the biggest threat down. The horned imp is reedy and he doesn’t scare you as bad as the other two do. The black-haired one is wide set and imposing, but you know you’ve got to go for the redcap. Their kind are violent and savage by nature; they breathe the tang of blood in the same way you breathe air. Once they satisfy their bottomless thirst for killing, they dip their red cap into the blood of their victim, and wear it as a trophy. This one’s cap is a testament to his danger, so crusted over and made stiff with old, brown blood that it does not move. You’re unsure why he believes he has the right to accuse Taehyun of violence while he wears his own violence upon his head. 

You bring your hand down to your hip and find a dagger under your dress and at your thigh as fast as you can. You know that if you don’t move fast enough, they’ll see you reaching for something and put an arrow or sword through you. You stumble for the redcap, willing your legs to keep you upright as you do. Please. Please, let this work. Let you be good for something. 

You drive your blade into his abdomen, and then reclaim it from his body. The spray of warm, molten blood comes as less of a shock this time, but it makes you no less nauseous. He makes a sound of howling pain, and then he falls to the ground, spitting out blood. His abdomen hisses and steams, as if burning. You’re sure he’ll stay down there. 

Stabbing him had them finally tearing their attention away from Taehyun. The one with black hair grabs you up quick, spinning you into a hold. He grabs you by the throat, cutting off your air supply. You sputter, clawing at his hand.  

“You’re a sneaky little bitch, aren’t you?” he growls, pulling you tighter. You make a strangled noise. You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe. “I was going to deal with you after him, but look what you’ve done now. Should’ve stayed in your place, huh? Have you forgotten what it is? Let me remind you.”  

You’re shoved down to cold earth, and then his foot comes down onto your neck, twisting and digging into it. “In the dirt. You are nothing. You had no right poking yourself into the business of your superiors, so what made you think you could come here as a spy—”  

You can tell he intends to continue, but he’s cut short by the sword that pierces his chest. He stumbles off you, and you suck in air once his foot is off your neck.  

Your body hurts. It hurts as if your muscles and bones are punishing you for depriving them of their oxygen, as if the poison still loitering around in your veins is making a final, excruciating hurrah. You don’t have time to sink into it, though. You push yourself up on your arms just in time to see Taehyun, wide-eyed and looking part beast, cutting down that imp as well. It’s quick and brutal. Once he’s down and unmoving, Taehyun looks to you. You almost flinch at the sight of him, blood-sprayed and lip-curled. He clears the distance between you in a few, long-legged strides and tugs you up. 

On your feet, you look down at the carnage below you. Blood sits on the snow in puddles and sprinkles it like terrible little blooming flowers. The redcap writhes on the floor, slow and meaningless, as the iron works itself through him. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Taehyun tugs at your arm. “We need to go. We need to go now.” 

You find yourself unable to move. 

“Now,” he growls. “I don’t know if there’s more of them. We need to get out of this forest before we die.” 

You try, but your legs are as solid as water as you do. You were clear headed enough for that last-ditch effort, but it was just that: a last-ditch effort. You barely have control of your limbs enough to go running through the forest. 

“Damn it,” he says, sheathing his sword and taking you back over his good shoulder. It’s just as disorienting this time, but you don’t have it in you to complain. And then, he’s cutting through the forest again, the forest floor of ice and snow whirling by and rendering you sick. 

Please, let there be nobody following you. 

❆

At some point, the poison had worn off you enough for you to travel the rest of the way yourself. It’s an awful journey, with both you and Taehyun watching over your shoulders and each sound of rustling forest creatures makes you jump. Taehyun doesn’t make any commotion about the arrowhead still nestled into his shoulder, but you can see in the stiffness of his movements that it’s bothering him.  

The last stretch of white, snow flats until you’re finally back at the estate is long and arduous. You sigh in relief as you stumble through the front door.  

You can’t fully relax yet, though. Taehyun collapses into the table almost immediately, sliding down into a seat. His skin has a sickly pallor to it.  

“You need to take this thing out of my shoulder,” he says, straining to look up to you. His eyes are so, so wary.  

Your stomach does a cruel twist with just the words, but you know it’s true. You nod. “I’ll go get some thread.”  

You clamber up the stairs and throw open drawers in a frantic search for your sewing kit. If working for Nut-hatch had taught you one thing, it was the importance of keeping a sewing kit around. Oh, and how to sew a solid stitch. You’re not so sure how well your stitching skills will cross over into suturing skin closed, but it has to be better than nothing. It has to be. 

You find the little wooden box in a dressing drawer, and then you bolt back down the stairs. He had spent so much time free bleeding that you worry he’s lost too much; you’ve got to get that closed up. 

Taehyun is peeling off his layers as you’re bounding down the last steps. You help him peel the last bit of his doublet off, and then his tunic, until his bare back faces you, a plane of toned muscle and marred skin. Your heart thunders in your chest. 

His back is littered with an outrageous number of scars, some superficial and some so deep that they leave jagged valleys in their paths. None of them are as gruesome or gnarly a sight as the festering wound at his shoulder, shimmering with his blood. The tip of the arrow is lodged well into it. You run a hand up the skin of his back until it’s resting right before the puncture wound begins. The thought of digging your fingers in there and tugging that arrow out from his flesh is a terrible, terrible one.  

You just have to do it. 

You curl your fingers around the ragged, splintered butt of the arrow where you had snapped it off, and you begin trying to wiggle it loose. Taehyun’s head drops, and he suppresses strangled grunts.  

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. You know it doesn’t make it feel any better, but you want him at least to know that doing this to him is making you ill. You tug on it some more, trying to find the path of least resistance. He shakes under your hand. “I’m sorry, Taehyun.”  

The arrow dislodges finally, leaving an awful open wound now dripping with fresh blood. You take a deep breath before reaching for your sewing kit, grabbing a curved needle. It doesn’t steady your trembling hands.  

He doesn’t make so much noise as you stitch the wound closed, just dangling his head, facing it head-strong. Each time you dig the needle through his skin on one side and then again on the other to form a stitch, you grow increasingly ill. You rub circles into his other shoulder. You’re not sure if they even register for him. Maybe they’re more for you than they are for him. 

“What do we do now, Taehyun?” you ask. You know it’s not the best time to be interrogating him, but you’re lost. You’re not sure if you’re going to be fleeing here tonight, or if you’re going to be able to carry on under the radar. “Do we leave?” 

Taehyun speaks through gritted teeth. “We don’t know all who was at The Hovel. We have no idea who saw what happened. We can’t be certain that every loose end is tied up.” 

Your stomach drops, swift and heavy. You can’t leave; you can’t leave Yeonjun here. You know he returns to his court for the rest of the season, but things will be different there from here. Can’t you just stay here, in this time and frame where you are cherished, forever? At some point, you had forgotten that this was your fate from the very start.  

You wince as a particular stitch has Taehyun trying to hold back his shaking. “When do we leave?” you ask. Let there at least be enough time for you to see Yeonjun.  

He steadies himself. “I don’t know—” he sucks in a withering breath as you stitch him mid-sentence, “let me think about it.” 

You sigh out a selfish, self-serving puff of air. At least you aren’t packing up and scrambling tonight.  

You continue sewing his wound closed for a few tense, silent moments more. 

“Taehyun,” you say. You have to ask; have to talk about it. You have so many questions. Do you leave with Taehyun to continue being a spy when you now know that Taehyun has skeletons in his closet? Is that the new life you dreamed of when you ran away from your old one? 

Taehyun lifts his head to let you know he’s listening. You’re sure he can hear the tension in your tone. 

“In the forest,” you begin. “They said you did those awful things with your father. And, they’re not the only ones I’ve heard say stuff like that.” 

His head snaps up. “From the prince?” he says, his eyes dark and dense with pain.  

“What does it matter?” you say, stepping back from your stitching. “What does it matter where I heard it from? Explain it to me, Taehyun.” Your tone is rigid and accusatory, but there’s also an undercurrent of pleading that slips from you before you can catch it.  

His jaw feathers, and he swallows hard. 

“So, it’s true, huh?�� You finish up your last stitch with imprecise hands, tying it then and cutting it off so that you make some distance between you and him. You had known that, but you had hoped it’d all be by your misunderstanding. “What was that story in the cave about your father, then? Buttering me up so that I wouldn’t be afraid of you? And I believed it all, too. Are you even half human? What are you, Taehyun?” you say, your words a bitter echo of a question you had already asked him. 

Hurt fizzles over his eyes and lines his face. “It seems you’ve already decided what I am for me, haven’t you?” He stumbles up from his seat, towering over you with a curled lip. “Say it,” he challenges. “Say what I am.” 

“You’re just like all of the rest of them,” you say. You back up some more; he’s standing over you with more venom and unadulterated emotion than you’ve ever seen him allow. It terrifies you. How deep had you driven your pick, that you had shattered that ice mask and revealed his true face? “You’re a monster.”  

“Like the rest of them?” he says, his eyes blazing. “What about the prince, then? Is he a monster, too?” 

Your back touches the wall. He’s standing right over you. It’s a mirror image of the time he had you backed against a tree, but this time he doesn’t reach out and touch you. “Yeonjun is different. Different from you, at least. He isn’t a murderer. He loves me.” 

Taehyun reaches up for your chest. You flinch, bracing, but he only grabs Yeonjun’s necklace there. Disbelief and hurt flashes over his eyes as you do. You’re not sure why he’s surprised; you had just dubbed him a monster. Maybe the distinction lies somewhere on the borderline where you would believe that he would hurt you. 

“You can’t trust a word from his mouth. Not one.” He rips the necklace from your neck, snapping the delicate chain. You reach up, feeling the empty space there. And then, you see red. 

A few moments of thick, charged disbelief fill the air before you’re finally able to pull together your scattered, frayed and vicious thoughts. “And I’m supposed to believe yours?” you snap, blood roaring in your ears. “You are a filthy, filthy liar, and a murderer too.” You’re not sure whether or not Taehyun can lie. You’re not sure whether or not he is any part human. You’re not sure of anything about him at all. 

“The prince is a liar, too,” Taehyun says. "You really think that he is going to wed you? To make you his wife? Maybe he loves you today, but he will forget you tomorrow. You’re nothing more than a thing to dress up to him, until he finds the next thing to do the same to.” He holds up your ruined necklace and dangles it in the air. “He thinks he can buy you with this. Is that your worth? Pretty necklaces?” 

When you don’t answer, he continues, his face pulled taut into a sneer. “It is now, isn’t it? You’d be content with a life as his mistress, hidden away because he is ashamed of you, for the entirety of your life, just as long as you’re draped in his silks and bows. He will never marry you. He is a prince.” 

That one drives deep into your chest, the wound as visceral and aching as the one in Taehyun’s shoulder. You will back scalding, angry tears. “He said he loves me,” you say. You try and not let your voice wobble, and to not let it sound pathetic and self-convincing. You try to make it sound true. 

He laughs in your face. “He’s had a lifetime perfecting how to lie in his own way.” 

You shake your head. You know sincere eyes when you see them, don’t you? His words weasel down into your mind, anyway. Perhaps you had let your disgusting, decayed heart cling to the smallest morsel of what you had thought was love just a little too tightly. You hope it would not destroy you to try and pry it off; that you are not so sickeningly dependent on the thought of being wanted that it would ruin you to lose it. 

You have nothing. No longer a home, no longer a companion, and no longer a lover. Though, maybe you never had Yeonjun in the first place.  

“Maybe he’s just playing me,” you say. “Maybe that’s true, but you are a murderer, Taehyun.” 

“I never had a choice,” Taehyun says.  

It’s your turn to laugh in his face. “It wasn’t your choice to kill?” 

He shakes his head. His face is still pale with blood loss. “My father brought me when he’d tear down those villages. He’d make me sit and watch because he knew it tortured me. I never once killed any of those people. He was embarrassed to have an heir that didn’t carry out his will, and so he let them think I did it by his side.” 

You reel, trying to imagine a young Taehyun made to witness the gory deaths of innocents. Your words from earlier rise like bile in your throat. You want to ask why he never did anything, why he wouldn’t save them, but you know looking over the jagged, nasty scars that litter his arms and torso that he had. He had, and he took his father’s wrath each time he did. 

“Why didn’t you try to tell them that you didn’t?” you ask. “Why did you let them believe that about you?” 

“I don’t care how they see me. I don’t care for any of it.” 

The estate is silent again as you grapple with your own mind. You know why he left the north, but none of this explains why he’d found himself as a spy to The King.  

Taehyun retracts. You can tell that bearing this out is not a comfortable thing for him; his face is grave and almost sullen.  

Your stomach feels full of rocks. His mean words fill your mind to the brink, and then your own top it off until your mind is spilling over. You grit your teeth. You want to stomp off and explode in your room, to scream into a pillow and pace the floor until daylight. But you can do none of that without disinfecting his wound. 

So, you take a rag and alcohol from the kitchens, and you dab it at the stitching in dense, dense silence. And once you’re done, you disappear upstairs to toss and turn in your bed with awful thoughts and fitful sleep. 

❆

You slip out of the estate as soon as the sun settles into the sky. You don’t know if Taehyun intends on leaving today, or any day soon, but you can’t go without seeing Yeonjun. You have so much you want to leech from your mind. You can’t leave with your mind full like this. When you make it to Yeonjun’s place, no servants even send you a second glance. They know your face, now.  

Your body buzzes as you reach his tall, white doors, and you walk in without any hesitating. You had been tortured with the inability to see or speak or touch him not just since last night, but also for the past few days.  

Yeonjun’s head swivels to you once you’re in his room, eyebrows pulling together. He’s buttoning up a silken shirt, no doubt getting dressed and ready for the day.  

“Is something wrong?” he says, looking over you with worried eyes. 

You crash right into him, circling your arms around him and holding him in your arms. 

He rubs one hand over your back, the other cupping the back of your head. You stay that way for a bit, before he pulls you off him and inspects your face. His eyes then dart to the empty space at your neck. “Where is your necklace?” he asks, his voice dipping. 

You hate the concern on his face. You can’t tell if it’s an act, or if he really worries for you.  

“Hey,” he says, taking your face in one hand with a grounding hold. “Say something. Please.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, it got broken,” you say, grimacing. “Just hold me, please.” You want to feel his arms around you, to have him envelope you so entirely that you can’t help but believe there is anything but love in his hold. 

He does without question, delicately guiding you back into the wall. “It can be fixed, darling. We can fix it,” he says, soft and lovely into your ear. 

It feels as though he reached his hand right into your core and brushes his fingers over your tainted thoughts. You almost begin fearing that he has been keen to your thoughts this whole time, the way his words patch over your open wounds. It’s as if he knows something beyond just the necklace has been broken here. 

He presses your hip into the wall with a hand. He brings his head back to inspect your face before bringing your lips together in a warm, savory kiss. You flatten your palm against his stomach, and then drag it down until you cup his rapidly hardening length through his pants. He makes a sharp sound into your mouth and then pulls his mouth off of you to shoot you a look.  

“What are you doing, you little vixen?” he says. You palm him harder, reveling in the way he sucks his lip into his teeth to repress a groan. Please, just let you have this one night in his arms before you have to go. You need his warmth to thaw you out, and then maybe you can leave this frozen place and return to the place where there is no frost or snow. Maybe it’ll make it harder in the end, but you can’t find it within yourself to care right now. You need to breathe him in like oxygen. 

You slide down the wall and let your knees rest on the cold wood of the floor, looking up to his hair obscuring his eyes as he watches you get on the floor for him. You work on his pants, unbuttoning them with nimble, eager hands and then freeing him. The way his length stands tall in front of your face exhilarates you—you did this to him. 

“You don’t have to do this, baby,” he says, but the haze over his eyes says differently.  

You take his cock into your hands. It’s warm and heavy, and leaking from the tip. You do. You need to see how much he needs you; how he craves your touch. You want to make him so ravenous for your touch that he’ll declare his love for you, and it’ll be real, and then you can stay here like this forever. You want his arms to be home, where you don’t have any other place to call home. “You don’t want my mouth?” you say, drunken with the potent need in his eyes. 

“I didn’t say that,” he says, groaning as you kitten lick his slit and then down the side. “On your knees is such a filthy place for a pretty lady to be,” he says, eating up the image of you.  

You take him into your mouth, making sure to run your tongue along the bottom of him as you let him in. He shudders and lets his head fall back, and then snaps his head back down as if thriving off the sight. You bob your head, taking him down until he tickles the back of your throat. You have to force down the gags that prick tears at the corners of your eyes. He cradles the back of your head. 

Yeonjun laughs. “How did you learn to use your mouth like this?” he says between his panted breaths. “You haven’t let him have this, have you?” 

Your eyes flutter open as he says it, your brows furrowed.  

He grabs the hair at the back of your head and uses it to pull you off of him. You suck in full breaths while you have the chance. “What?” he says, letting his saliva-slick length rest on your cheek. It feels more lewd and dirty than having him in your mouth. “I know you kissed him. He told me himself.” 

Your mouth drops open, but he’s guiding himself back into your mouth before you can say anything. Taehyun had told Yeonjun you’d kissed? You couldn’t defend yourself if you tried; he’s rutting into your mouth, hand fisted at the back of your head as he looks down at you with something blazing in his eyes. You can feel the restraint in his hands and in his face. His stomach grows taut. 

“I should’ve known he’d get his hands on you the second he could, pretty. That dog doesn’t know how to keep hands off of what’s not his. I’m going to have to keep you on a tighter leash, huh? I don’t like other men knowing what you taste like, baby.” His words are measured and taunting, but he’s twitching in your mouth and his thrusts are growing more frantic, and his hand is twisted into your hair as if you’ll run away and leave him needy if he doesn’t hold you there. 

You’ve never heard Yeonjun speak like this. He’s expressed distaste for Taehyun before, but never like this. Never like he’s sinking his teeth into you and staking his claim. Yeonjun doesn’t need to cling to his possessions—not when everything he’s ever wanted has been at his fingertips. So, why does he sound like a frantic dog showing its teeth so that another won’t reach for its toy? 

His thrusts become more feverish and shallow, whimpers escaping the back of his throat. Saliva pools out from your lips and sullies your chin, but you’re too focused letting him use your throat that you can’t be bothered with it. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, his abdomen going rigid. He slips out of your mouth quick, before he can melt into your mouth and cum. His cock is red and angry, frustrated with denied release. “Your mouth is so good, baby, but when I cum, I want it to be in you,” he says, reaching down to wipe the mess off your chin with his thumb.  

You whine, the sound a bit hoarse with use. He uses his words in a way that leaves you so weak. The two of you stumble over to the bed, where he lays out and you climb up over him. He pushes your dress up and over your thighs, the skimming of his fingers electric and shooting up straight into your cunt. You hover just above him, lining the weeping tip of him up with you, but not yet sinking down onto him. 

“I waited for this,” he says, taking your hips into his hands. “For multiple days, I yearned to touch you like this again. And, where were you these past few days, darling? In his bed?” 

You brace your hands on his chest, the shirt there disheveled and unbuttoned now, despite him having only freshly put it on. You sink down just a little bit, watching his face contort despite his fiery words. 

“No,” you insist, sinking lower. He stretches you just as deliciously as the first time. “No, ‘Jun. I promise, baby. This is just for you.” 

His head falls back, and he’s looking at you down his nose, his fingers digging divots into your hips. You take him down to the hilt, and then pick yourself up and drop back down, falling into a delicious rhythm. The roll of your hips and the perfect angle of his cock has him brushing up against a sweet, soft spot inside of you, sending your thighs trembling each time it does.  

“Make me believe that, pretty,” he says. His lips are bitten red as you pick up speed, leaning forward onto your hands to fuck yourself down on him harder and faster. You relish in the way he reacts for you. “Make me believe you never gave him what is mine.” 

You try. Oh, you try. Your thighs begin aching, burning with exertion, and sweat sheens your neck. Once your thighs are unable to fully lift you off of him, you opt for rolling your hips into him frantically, chasing that knot deep in your belly the same way you chase to watch him grow restless under you, his hands alternating between holding your hips and the bedsheets and your chin. 

His hands come to your hips again, taking them with a more solid, reinforcing grip. His cheeks are tinted pink. “Need help, baby? Getting tired?” he purrs, picking you up and bringing you back down on his cock with renewed vigor that has you falling forward and whimpering into his neck. He opts for fucking up into feverishly you now that you’re bent over him. 

“I love you— I love you, Yeonjun,” you pant, clinging to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

You’re sorry for so much. You’re so sorry that you can’t help but let it slip out into his skin while you’re in his arms. You’re sorry that you’ve lied to him, you’re sorry that you’ve doubted him, and you’re so awfully sorry that you have to leave him.  

“It’s okay, darling. It’s okay,” he manages through his labored breaths. He holds you to his chest like he can meld you into him there. You know he’s not comforting you for what you wish he would be, but it swells emotion up in your chest regardless.  

He’s so, so close. You can feel him twitching inside you, so riled up that he’s going to cum before you.  

You lift off of him, taking in his heavy eyes and rapidly rising and falling chest, before you crawl off of his cock.  

He whines, reaching out for you. “What are you—” he says, cut off by the strangled hum of relief as you wrap your hand around his length, slick and ruined with your essence. A look of recognition passes over his eyes, and something akin to hurt as well. You hadn’t worried about letting him cum in you last time, but last time you had been reckless and forgotten that you’re living on borrowed time. Your mind was not jaded with the knowledge that you don’t have forever like it is now.

You slide your wrist up and down him, devouring the bucking of his hips and the way he chants your name. Your name. Finally, he stills, cursing and cumming white, hot spurts up onto his belly, soiling part of his shirt that had not yet ridden up. The sight of it has you fluttering around nothing.  

He pants, but picks his head up off the bed with effort before frowning. “You didn’t get off. Let me help you, pretty. Let me take care of you.” He pushes up off the bed, taking your face in one hand. 

You shake your head, falling down into the side of his bed that has become yours. “I’m okay,” you say. Though you’re a sticky, awful mess between your thighs, that’s not what you need. You usher him to lay down with you with a hand. “I just want to be here with you.” 

He gives you an odd look, but lays down on his side, facing you, albeit tentatively. The two of you are quiet for a minute, eyes flickering over each other's faces as if you both have something you want to say, but both can’t form the words or speak them. 

You breathe in a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. You have to tell him; it’s what you came here for. Can’t your last day just be left untainted? You worry you’ll be forever forced to remember these moments by the sick flipping of your stomach, instead of the angles of his face and the rhythm of his heart beating as it floats down from euphoria. 

“I have to leave this place, Yeonjun,” you say, eyes flickering up to his finally. “I’m leaving tomorrow. Something happened, and I have...” You swallow hard. “I have to tell you something.” 

You expect his face to twist up in confusion or worry, but it doesn’t. Instead, it falls. He doesn’t speak for a moment too long, and your heart plays cruel tricks on you.  

“I know,” he says, and all the air is whooshed from your lungs. 

“What?” you say, flying up onto your arms. “What do you mean?” 

“I know why you’re here. I know that the both of you are spies for my father.” 

Your mouth is paralyzed with all the moments you’ve spent petrified of this exact moment so that you can barely speak. “How?” you say. “Since when?” 

He sighs, sitting up as well. “Since today.” 

He doesn’t answer how, but you already know. It all clicks into place in at this very moment. The only way that he might have found out just today was that Kai had told him. You remember the looks on their faces when that bark-skinned faerie had said something about the solstice and some kind of set-up at The Hovel. Not only had that been a set-up, but Yeonjun had known about it. Him and Kai both had. Whether or not they knew it would be you and Taehyun who would show up until you did, you don’t know. Kai knew there would be a poisoned drink for the spies if they fell into that trap that day, and the moment he saw you go down he knew it was you and Taehyun. 

You jump off the bed, backing up and away from him. “You’re one of them?” you say, your voice fragile.  

“What?” he says, looking at you weird. “One of them? You mean part of the rebellion?” 

You scoff. “Yes.” 

“Is there something wrong with that?” 

Is there something wrong with that? They had tried to kill you twice. Would he be complacent with your death, so long as it’s in the name of his loyalty to The Queen? 

“Your people poisoned me, and have made attempts on my life twice,” you say, stepping away from him again. “And I’m leaving because they might make even more.” 

He shakes his head, his eyes wary watching you back away from him. “They won’t,” he says. “Not now that I know it’s you. They will never lay another finger on you again, nobody will. You don’t have to leave here.” 

“Oh, but if it were any other human girl, that’d be fine? You’d live with the knowledge that the people you cozy yourself up with killed her? And, what about Taehyun? Does your courtesy extend to him, prince? You expect me to just accept your protection and let them hunt for his head? I know your distaste for your father and that crown, Yeonjun. But, is this really the way you intend to do this? Inciting war is not going to mend that.” 

He shakes his head, closing in on you and taking your face into his hands. “War is going to happen regardless of my meddling. It has been charging up for years. I don’t want you working as a spy for my father when it happens; I want you here.” His eyes dart between yours. “If Taehyun decides on staying here, if it will allow me to keep you here, then I will extend every bit of my power to protect the both of you. Forget your duties to my father. You have no need to work as a spy when I will support your life endlessly, pretty. Please.” 

Your stomach roils with flame and acid. Yeonjun hadn’t lied to you, but somehow this is worse. You suppose you can’t feel too left in the dark—he had just found out your deceit, and yet... Here he is, pleading with you to stay. You had imagined he’d cast you out and renounce you upon finding out your truth. In some ways, that almost seems better. You don’t know how to work with this, and you had not prepared for this.  

 Would Taehyun even agree to stay here? You honestly don’t know. You don’t know what Taehyun’s intentions are with being a spy, but you can’t imagine him wanting to stay here. Not when you know his past here in the north.  

Do you want to be a spy? If war is genuinely coming, would it just be returning home with a target on your back?  

Taehyun’s spitted words crawl up to the forefront of your mind. You’ll never be sure if Yeonjun will stay true to his promises of protection and love. Would he wed a human, even when estranged from the throne and his father? 

You search Yeonjun’s desperate, pleading eyes. You hope that what you see there is more than just sparkling need to dig his claws into his play toys. 

…🪶 ashlynn's note yeaaah. i said it was angsty!! i know u taehyun girlies are waiting on a taehyun scene but guys i promise the longer you wait the better it'll be I PROMISEEE. also, lmk in the comments if you think she should leave the north or stay there with Yeonjun.

﹙🏷️ ﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[zombyjuice]

I’M GOING CRAZY, RIGHT ? CHOI BEOMGYU.

currently in the remaking!!!!

#SYNOPSIS! the sweetest girl in school, who just doesn’t know how to say no, “accidentally” gets into a relationship with someone she doesn’t like— how unfortunate for beomgyu— who’s her “best friend”.

↳ annoying!beomgyu x less annoying fem!reader.

어디서든, 몇 번이든

GENRE: FLUFF / ANGST / SUGGESTIVE / CRACK/ FAKE DATING..

PLAYLIST: im going crazy, right ?

THERE AINT NOTHING ELSE THAT I WOULD HOLD ON TO

PUBLISHED: 01/16/23

UPDATES: not updating for awhile because of personal problems TT

I HEAR HIS VOICE

#WARNINGS ! based on OMG! by new jeans reader is haerin’s and taehyun’s sister, barely any tweets, cursing , kys jokes, beomgyu being annoying and reader being just a little bit less annoying, reader dating someone she doesn’t like, beomgyu being upset, I’ll put more up!

THROUGH ALL THE NOISE

PROFiLES 📁. soulmates ongosh ! — sexy ahh MEN — extras ?

TABLE OF CONTENTS 📌 the mean gremlin one?!— past his bedtime. pt 1 — past his bedtime pt.2 — plans! canceled — your so sexy when you use your brain …

TAGLIST (OPEN)❕❗️❔❓

@bambithepers0n @wccycc @shota-pop @openingssequence @captivq @zaeeeee @beowmgyu @nikisonly @baekberrie @yuhjoeyuh @rikicito @txtbrainrot @jakahbot @telengraph @lcv3lies @in-the-corner-coffee-please @theynchapter @thisisnotjacinta @nikiimura @mqdi-scn @s4turnb1tch @rionah @smuchsmut @wonioml @vianna99 @woncheecks @ddeonudepressions @jeongintwt @soobin-chois @lunllaby @catsyoon @bgomtori

[kimbappykidding]

Other Parts: Part Two, Part Three and Part Four.

You'd started dating V 2 years after he debuted. Your company Cube were not thrilled about it. They knew they couldn't stop you or any of your G(I)-dle members from dating but they hoped you'd atleast date someone from the big 3 so if it got leaked you'd get a ton of publicity (you'd also get a ton of hate but they didn't care about that). BTS hadn't blown up yet so they saw you dating V as pointless, but you didn't.

V first caught your eye because of how good-looking he was. Then you also saw how sweet and kind he was and you knew you had a thing for him. You admired him for a while before you started trying to express your interest in him. You started bowing more to him, smiling, saying small things like "good luck" before BTS went on stage. It worked and you became friendlier and friendlier until one night V came over to you at a party and asked you out. You of course said yes and got on instantly. You really weren't slumming it by dating someone like V and it was your company's fault if they couldn't see that.

The two of you were really happy for a while. You had 3 years of bliss but that all started to change when BTS' fame skyrocketed. At first, you were thrilled for V! You knew how hard he and the guys worked and how they'd been overlooked for 5 years but fame is weird and we all crave attention and praise so you didn't fully blame V for what happened.

Suddenly everyone wanted to know him. Guys who couldn't be bothered to respond to him when he bowed to them were inviting him to A-list parties. Girls who'd never even spoken to him were acting like they were best friends with him. Particularly the ones from big companies. You decided to let V do what he wanted with it and let him enjoy parties and events on his own. He deserved the praise, not you and you didn't want to be accused of riding his coattails. Plus you never liked all that party stuff so you just waited home for V but slowly things started to change.

You saw V less for one thing and when you did see him, things were different. His team were styling him weirdly and trying to change things about him to make him appeal to an even wider audience. They toyed with his appearance like he was doll and started changing more personal aspects of him. His interests began to change and even the way he spoke altered. It would take him a few minutes each time you were together for V to shed the idol V and just go back to normal V. You loved when your V was back but it took longer and longer reach time. Not to mention when you did see V on the idol circuit you didn't like what you saw. You hardly recognised the man and didn't like how flirty he was. Sure there were girls throwing themselves at him all over the place but that didn't mean he had to reciprocate. Didn't he care about how you felt watching it?

Apparently not because when you brought it up in the car on the way home V was not happy. He didn't get it and saw your reaction as a lack of trust, completely misreading everything. You argued the whole way home and opening the door to your apartment, V still could understand what was wrong with his behaviour. "V you were flirting with her don't even try and pretend you weren't!". "Okay sure but what's wrong with that? It wasn't really me flirting with her just my character". You blinked "V that makes no sense! We're not actresses and even if you chose to flirt with her because your company asked you to I'm not okay with that". "Why?" V asked "you know none of that is true". "It doesn't matter though the girls you flirt with don't know that and neither do the others watching. Plus why would you even do that? There are some lines you don't cross V and when does flirting turning into more?". "More like what?" V asked and you shrugged "I don't know? A sexy dance together, lingering hands, a kiss...It will only keep getting worse and the lines will keep thinning and people will think that you're up for it" you argued but V was just getting more frustrated.

"I don't get why you're so worried about what other people think. Who cares if they think I'm fucking everyone in the industry, it's not like I'm actually sleeping with these girls and you know that!" V said and you laughed "wow thank you so much for doing that major favour for me!" you said and V rolled his eyes "why are you being so difficult?". "Can you really not see why I'm upset?" You asked and V shook his head "it's not like I'd ever actually cheat on you, I wouldn't go that far" and your jaw actually dropped. "V I don't want you to go anywhere near! It's not good enough that you didn't go too far! I got at first it was exciting having pretty girls from big companies talking to you but how can you not see through it? It's been a year now and none of these people wanted you before you were big!". "But you did so I should be grateful to you?" V asked. "That's not what I'm saying I just...I can feel you pulling away V and if you want out just say so" you said.

That stuck with V and he immediately switched to comforting you, telling you there was no way he'd want that and he'd make you see that. You wanted to believe him but a few months later it started happening again. This time you didn't fight it. You let V break away from you and do his own thing and you ended it 3 months later. You think there was relief from both sides when you did.

It didn't take long for V to start using his newfound freedom and you mainly just tried not to watch but it was hard because now everyone was watching him and news travels fast. You heard how he was seeing a model and then an idol and then an actress and then two models at the same time and it continued. At the few after-parties you went to, V could usually be seen making out with some girl and then another one later in the night. You'd heard he'd jumped into booze, girls and drugs head first and honestly didn't know how much Big Hit was paying the newspapers to keep it quiet but it must be a lot.

Fast forward to 2 years later, BTS were the biggest band in the world and you were happy for V but didn't really think about him much. The V today was a different person from the one you knew who didn't exist anymore. So you didn't even think of them as the same person. It was almost as if V had retired or moved away and there was just this guy who looked and sounded like him but you knew it wasn't him. However there was one person in the world who was sure if anyone could get the old V back, it was you.

You woke up to hear your phone ringing at 4 am. You glared and then gasped as you saw who was ringing, it was V's mum. You'd always been close to V's family when you were dating, especially his mum and towards the end you talked to her more than V. When you told her you'd ended it she understood and said she knew he'd lose you if he wasn't careful. You hadn't spoken to her since apart from Christmas cards so immediately shot up worried this had to be some emergency.

"Y/n it's V! He's not answering his phone and he needs to be at the airport in 2 hours! The boys can't get through to him and they won't let them leave the airport. Y/n he's missed so much if he misses this trip he'll be disciplined or worse" she said near tears and you nodded letting her words sink into your sleepy brain. "Okay so V is late for a flight?" you asked "what time does he need to be there". You confirmed all the details with his mother and then nodded "okay Mrs Kim don't worry I'll go get to him" you said without really thinking. You quickly pulled some clothes on as his mum sang your praises and thanked you a million times. You couldn't believe how quickly you'd offered yourself but for V's distressed mum you'd do anything you could. You promised to text her with updates and then closed your car door. You hadn't been to V's place in years and you hadn't ever planned on going back but here you were

You weren't even sure why V still lived here. Sure it was convenient but he could afford somewhere 5 times the price of this with all the fancy amenities but he'd stayed here for some reason. Maybe he was never here long enough to care about moving.

You walked up the stairs to his place and wondered if he still kept the spare key in the same place. You were kind of counting on it. You searched in his flower pot (which now had a fair few cigarette buds in which was a lovely touch) for the fake rock he'd bought. You found it and pulled it apart to reveal the key. Well some things hadn't changed. You took small comfort in that and opened the door.

The first thing that hit you was the smell of alcohol. It stank and was stale, as if the smell had been there a while. The apartment had changed a lot since you'd been here. Pretty much all the furniture was different and you could see the jump in V's fortune. You didn't like it though. It looked like someone else had decorated as none of this was V's style and it was all too tacky and showy. Then you reminded yourself that the V you knew was gone and this was probably the new V's taste which made you scrunch your nose in distaste.

You made your way further into the living and saw the coffee table was covered in a mix of alcohol bottles and some substances. You tried not to look too closely at everything and hurried through the living room trying to get past the smell and called out for V. You still remembered where the bedroom was and knocked but got no response. So you threw open the door.

V was in bed but you couldn't see him clearly because of the other girls in his bed. Two, one on either side. They were all naked and you assumed V was the lump in the middle. "V get up!" you yelled and knocked loudly on the door. The people in the bed jumped and began to stir. They all made a noise as you yanked the blinds up. V sat up and you realised you'd missed another girl who had been entwined with him. 3 girls and counting you thought, expecting another one to pop out from under the bed.

"Y/n?" V asked confused and you nodded "get up, you're late". "No I'm not I've got until...shit" he said seeing the clock. You nodded "yeah so get up!". "But why did they send you?" V asked and you shook your head "that's not important. What is, is that you've got a plane you can't miss so get up and get dressed. Ladies please gather your things and leave. I will order you a taxi to take you home". The girls did as you said, clearly thinking you worked for V or something and filed out. "You've got 10 minutes to get in the car or I'm leaving without you" you said and walked from the room. You made sure the girls got in their taxi and then went to grab V's suitcase, which was by the door, to find it empty.

You groaned, so annoyed he hadn't even packed and shoved open his bedroom door again to see V had left his bed but hadn't found his clothes. He wasn't shy and turned to face you, without a care in the world and actually smiled. He leaned on his wardrobe slightly "Y/n if you wanted a go all you had to do was ask" he said. You rolled your eyes "been there done that, I'm here because you haven't packed anything" and you walked past him and put the suitcase down on the bed. You turned around to see V standing right behind you, still naked and jumped. You hesitated for a second before your resolve came back. "Why don't you go clean up while I pack, you smell like a nightclub. Where's your passport?". "They have it" he said and you nodded "go wash up" and turned away. "Whatever you say Y/n" V said passing very close to you and he left the room. His words were incredibly sexually charged and you figured he must still be drunk. You could feel his eyes on you as he left the room but refused to turn and look at him.

You grabbed a bunch of clothes, shoes and underwear and shoved them in the suitcase. Then you grabbed his chargers and added them. You knew he'd need his skincare but he was in the bathroom with it and you didn't want to give him any more misguided ideas. You sealed the case and knocked on the bathroom door "5 minutes V, I'll be in the car" and waited.

4 minutes later V appeared, hair still dripping, looking like he'd been in a hurricane but dressed and ready. When he got in you told him to text RM you were on your way and ask where he should go. "Done, so now are you going to tell me why they sent you?" V asked "was it the boys' great idea or management?". "Neither, your mum called me in floods of tears because she thought you were going to be fired". "My mum?" he asked and you nodded "I never deleted her number and I guess she never deleted mine". "Did you delete my number?" V asked and you chose not to reply, putting the radio on instead and V let it drop.

You reached the airport 20 minutes later and V undid his seatbelt. "Thank you Y/n for doing this for me". "I didn't do this for you I did it for your mum" you said but you knew that was only half true. "Well thanks for caring for her, I would like to say I kept the same links with your family but that was never possible huh?". You couldn't believe he was bringing this up now and actually laughed "really? Still not over that?". "I don't think I'm unreasonable for still being upset your parents don't know who I am". "You want them to know who you are? Are you sure about that?" you asked "do you really think they'd be your biggest fan after everything that happened?". V looked down because you got him there and he sighed "sorry I'm still hungover, forget I said anything. Thanks for coming out of your way, I'll call my mum before we take off". You nodded and pressed the button to open the boot "I obviously can't come in with you" and V nodded "thanks again" and stepped out of the car. You didn't wave or anything but when you got far enough away that he couldn't see it...you looked back and saw V disappear inside.

You checked the headlines the next day to make sure V made the flight but other than that you went back to your life, V fading out of it. You didn't even tell your members where you'd been. You didn't know if they'd be upset at you for helping V or get hopeful this could mean something more. Yuqi was firmly of the opinion he didn't deserve anything from you but you knew Shuhua and Seoyeon still held out hope for you two despite everything. They thought V would give up his new lifestyle to be back with you but he couldn't give it up to keep you when he first got it so why would years later be any different?

Then a few weeks later you got some flowers delivered to your building. It was a huge extravagant bouquet that must've been really expensive. You guessed who sent it but sure enough, there was a card with one letter on it. "V". "Who sent them?" Minnie asked and you crumpled the card behind your back "oh just that brand I did that photoshoot with". "Awww that's so sweet!" Soojin said "mine never do that" and you just shrugged but one thing stood out to you. V still remembered what flowers you liked and had the bouquet made custom because they were all there. You remembered just how good a boyfriend V could be when he tried but that was the thing...it was all dependent on him giving a crap.

Some small part of you thought there might be more to this. That V might reach out to you again or this would be a wake-up call to him but no. The girls were always honest with you with any rumours and so a week later Miyeon admitted V had been kicked out of a club for having sex with a woman in the toilets. He'd apparently laughed it off, talked his way back inside and then left with a different girl. You scolded yourself for ever thinking he could change.

So when your friend Kai's birthday rolled around you were feeling a little restless. You wanted to banish any thoughts of V from your head and when you explained the whole thing to Kai he got an idea. He was friends with Jimin who had asked if he could bring Junkook and V with him. Kai checked you were okay with it and then told him yes...but that was months ago and now Kai had his own agenda because he'd heard V had been seen with his ex. "Now I know this is petty but what would you say if I suggested we do something to show V and my ex they're not the only hot idols living their best life?". You smiled "what do you have planned?".

Kai's party was huge because he was Exo's Kai and everyone loved him. So many idols showed up and he rented a mansion which only just fit them in. His party had everything from huge ice sculptures, to trapeze artists and fire breathers (not near one another of course) and the most amazing food in the world. But Kai had purposefully set up a stage overlooking the dance floor outside and about 2 hours in he made his entrance...with you by side.

Kai was the king of dance and so to kick off his birthday he did a dance with you but not any dance, it was sexy even for Kai's standards and you loved it! You adored the sexy concepts and Kai was the dream partner. Kai had choreographed this himself and you were so proud of your best friend so threw yourself into the moves...literally! Kai caught you in his arms and ran his hands down your body as you clung onto him with your legs tight around his waist. Then the next second he flipped you over and you sprang onto your feet beside him. You'd both practised very hard for this (more than you'd care to admit) but this was so much fun! Kai had been through a lot lately and wasn't sure if his ex-girlfriend had cheated on him with V so to see him so happy warmed your heart. You did everything you could to make Kai seem as sexy and amazing as possible and it wasn't hard.

You and Kai had warned your members that you'd be doing this dance but they still cheered and acted like it was the first hearing about it and to be fair their surprise was genuine. The girls hadn't seen you be this carefree and sexy since you broke up with V and they loved it. The Exo members saw Kai was in his element and screamed for him as loud as any EXO-L.

The dance finished with you and Kai pressed together, faces inches apart and the room erupted. You were pretty sure you could hear each of your members individually screaming in the roar and Kai recognised Suho's scream anywhere. Kai was so excited and had a beautiful smile on his face as he pulled you towards him and looked at the crowd. "Fuck him Y/n you're gorgeous" he said and your eyes found V in the audience. You moved them off him immediately and back to Kai "and so are you, she doesn't know what she's missing" and Kai smiled "and this is why you're my best friend, let's get down there!" and you agreed and took his hand descending down the staircase together for the night of your lives.

The party went on until the early hours of the morning and Kai only finally went to bed at 7 am. You set him up in one of the bedrooms upstairs and decided to do a sweep of the house before also going to sleep. You were in the garden wondering if to leave Sehun asleep in the bushes when you felt someone behind you.

You turned to see Jimin who smiled awkwardly. V had left ages ago, not long after your dance actually, but Jimin and Jungkook had stayed late. "Hey" Jimin said "I left my phone here accidentally and was naively thinking it might still be here. Have you seen one?". "Grey/black swirl phone case?" and Jimin's eyes lit up "you've seen it?". You smiled "I found it last night and put it somewhere safe" you said directing him to the kitchen. You opened the oven and saw Jimin's jaw drop. "Hey this is a fake house and nobody was going to start cooking so it was safe I promise". Jimin clutched his phone tightly but nodded" thanks Y/n" and you nodded to him "no problem".

An awkward silence settled and you had no idea what to say to him. The elephant in the room was V but how could either of you bring that up naturally? "Congratulations on the Grammys" you said and Jimin looked back up from the floor "thank you, it was surreal but so fun". You smiled "you deserve it, we were all cheering you on". "Thanks Y/n" Jimin said "I'm glad you're happy" he said when you frowned he gestured upstairs "with Kai?" he half asked. You didn't want to tell him it had all been a ploy to make his friend jealous but also didn't want to lie and say it was true so you just looked down nodding. "Thanks...I should probably actually go see if he needs any help with anything" you said and Jimin nodded "of course thanks Y/n and with a bow, he left.

One thing was for sure, the party and your plan was a raging success. You were sure you'd never hear from V again...but you did.

This will be a four-part series and I will post the new parts at the top of this page when they are up!

I hope this goes without saying but this is all fictional!!!! I am not saying V does any of these things and took creative liberty. This is all made up and I am not trying to imply anything. So...if you want a fun fake kpop story with the very hot Taehyung then stick around.

[lovecoree]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐊𝐓𝐇

pair: ceo husband!taehyung x black fem!wife

synopsis: after an amazing date with your husbands, paparazzi waits outside getting pictures of y’all walking out of the restaurant.

warning: kissing, that’s basically it.

this is based on this tiktok, so that’s probably why this is short :)

“Did you enjoy your time?”

Taehyung kissed you on your lips before holding your hand, you smiled brightly as you thanked him for not only the amazing dinner, but the big bouquet of roses.

“It was amazing, to bad you’re busy tomorrow, I want to spend more time with you.” You pouted watching as he grinned at your confession, “who said I have work tomorrow?” He raised his eyebrow, stopping in his tracks before wrapping is arms around your waist bringing you closer to him.

“You have a meeting—” “The meeting was postponed until next week so I get to spend time with my beautiful wife.” Kissing you again, “you didn’t..have to do that.” You said in between the kiss, you were pretty sure your lipgloss was now smudge and covering Taehyung’s lips, but he obviously didn’t care. “Ok babe we’re in public.” You pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, you giggle seeing the crazy lust in his eyes.

“Speaking of public, I suggest you look down at the ground when we walk out.” You resumed walking towards the exit, looking at him confused, “why should I—”

“Ms and Mr Kim look this way!”

oh..now you understand.

whole crowd of paparazzi gathered around the restaurant with cameras ready to take pictures. It was already too late for you to look away as you got blinded by the lights. Taking Taehyung’s advice you glanced down at the ground, unlike your husband who was used to the cameras waved.

“You both look amazing!”

Taehyung’s secretary was quick to open the back door of the car, holding it open for the both of you to get in. After driving off Taehyung made sure you were ok and safe, “You ok?” You smiled before nodding your head, “words love.” “Yes I’m fine, I’m just tired.” Nodding his head he let you take a little nap during the car ride.

next day…

“Omg babe, look at the pictures they took.” Taehyung watched as you walked into the kitchen with nothing but his shirt on. You leaned over the island table to show him. “Look at this one, I look pretty.” You showed Taehyung the picture of you looking at the camera, it was like you were in a photoshoot. Your hair, the jewelry, the nice silk black bodycon dress you wore. You were meant for the cameras.

“You always look pretty love.”