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beomie3 · 6 months ago

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night lounge - cbg

☆ summary: the nights spent at your favorite night lounge are everything you could ever need. until one night, you stumble upon a man that makes you rethink.

☆ wc: roughly 4k

☆ content: slow burn smut, beomgyu is a gentleman in a jazz band, light bondage (he uses his tie to fasten your wrists), light drinking, cursing, unprotected, lots of kissing :p, fluffy ending, he’s dominant in this <3

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your favorite late-night lounge lies hidden in the underground of a ritzy hotel amidst the city; candlelit and cozy, black silk sofas and a bar equipped with all the drinks for a perfect night.

it'd been your nighttime getaway ever since you discovered it accidentally one night. you haven't found a place quite as unique as it.

you just can't get over the smooth jazz band that plays in it's designated corner every saturday night at sundown when you arrive. the blend is perfect to the ear; smooth saxophone, soft drums, pretty piano, and sometimes a bassist who would join in at midnight and play well into 3 a.m. which is usually when you decide you're satisfied with your night and head home. which to be frank, it's hard to decide when to leave when it's your comfort place. it simply couldn't get better.

or so you thought.

you sat at the usual velvet barstool under the star-shaped chandelier, taking in the ambiance of the dreamy lounge as always. the subtle murmur of guests and clinks of glasses filling the room, dim with dainty light fixtures and flicker of candles in small glass jars at every table.

dried flowers, fairy lights, and classical paintings adorned the walls in such a beautiful way that made you feel nostalgic. like a museum in paris had been turned into a swanky hangout.

if you could describe the place in one word it would be; classy. no, elegant. no.. dreamy. there were just so many attributes to describe your favorite place, you couldn't begin to put your finger on one.

the peace you felt here while sipping red wine or a cocktail while listening to the smooth blend of instruments from the live ensemble was unmatched to any other place ever, like your own little neverland that you escaped to at nightfall.

the bartender you knew well had just placed a tall glass of chardonnay in front of you, setting tonight's mood as you relax under the liquid's musky yet enjoyable flavor.

cozying into the velvet seat, you shifted your attention back to the band, also paying mind to the people subtly beginning to fill the lounge as the night commenced; observing different groups of friends or couples who entered in intricate outfits, most faces familiar to you. admittedly, people watching was a pastime you fairly enjoyed.

but suddenly there appeared the face of a man you had yet to see, noticing his tall figure immediately as he came down the steps with a certain presence that radiated nothing but confidence and poise.

maybe it was the all-black suit he wore or the way his feathered ebony hair parted over his eyes in such a way that made you stare, following his every step into the warm glow of the lounge.

you wondered if he'd come here all along, or if he was simply a figment of your imagination after only two sips of your glass.

he's here for the same reason as you, it seems, as he briskly makes his way over to the bar.

noticing his approach you try your best to disregard him, acting as if you hadn't just watched his entire procession into the lounge.

"anyone sitting here, miss?" a sudden deep and breathy voice calls out from beside you, a dull pang at your stomach when you turn towards the man and realize how much more handsome he is up close. the way the dim light encapsulates his face, noticing the subtle gloss over his skin.

"you." you keep your wits about you, noticing the way the corner of his lip tugs upward when he nods toward you. swiftly taking the seat.

you turn and face the jazz ensemble again, tongue in cheek as you can feel his warmth beside you, trying your best to seem unfazed by his presence.

although your eyes are on the band, your ears are keen to his thick voice as he orders; a gin martini on the rocks and a side of lime, please. oh and put the jazz band on my tab while you're at it.

you nearly whip your head around at the sound of his request to put the jazz band on his tab. regardless, there were only four members but still...you were in shock and mostly intrigued. it isn't an act of kindness you'd usually hear at the bar.

the waiter gets to work on his drink and your eyes drift to him like a magnet drawn to metal; his mystery, you just wanted to freeze time and observe him.

once your eyes were on him you just couldn't resist the question that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

"do you know the jazz band?" you circle the rim of your glass with a finger, his chocolate eyes immediately boarding into yours along with all of his attention.

"i do. or else there wouldn't be one," his smile slowly grows as yours does, sipping his drink as it arrives. keeping his eyes on you all the while. he's only spoken two sentences to you but you swear there is something about his aura you just can't get enough of.

although he kept his response short and sweet, you put two and two together and concluded that he founded the band or something of the sort. either way, you just couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"well then today is my lucky day," you bring your glass to your lips and he lets out a deep chuckle, setting his glass down with a smirk at you. eyes still glued to his while he briefly looks away to set his glass down, you try taking him all in; the tiny freckle on his cheek, the silver ring in his earlobe, his long eyelashes. he was almost unreal.

"choi beomgyu," he holds a hand out to you, impressed with how much of a gentleman he's been in not even the five minutes you'd spoken to him. sad how low your expectations were after how many royal douchebags you'd come across at this bar.

you state your name in response, taking his warm hand and resisting the urge to smile too big when he slightly bows his head toward you, eyes never leaving yours as he gently shakes your hand.

that wasn't until he brought the back of your hand to his lips like a prince to a princess, that your heart nearly beat out of your chest; simply carried away by his charm. you’d never been greeted this way.

"i take it you enjoy my band," he slowly releases your hand. "rare to see someone just sit. listen. enjoy the music." he slightly reclines, bringing his glass back to his plump lips with those deep brown eyes on you.

"saturday nights are always my favorite." you nod, slightly reclining in your seat too, mimicking his body language.

"i know." his smile slightly grows behind the rim of his glass, wondering how the hell he knows if you'd never met him in your life.

"and how is it that you know that?" you slightly tilt your head, crossing your legs toward him and narrowing your eyes in await for a response.

"velvet chair at the end of the bar under the star-shaped chandelier. it's your seat. how could i not know where the most beautiful woman in this place sits?"

you're good at not showing how flustered you are; legs tightly crossed together, cheek caught in between your teeth, biting back the biggest damn smile.

"saturday nights are my favorite too," he looks over at the band and it isn't until he makes a bass-playing gesture with his fingers that the puzzle pieces click.

he's the bassist that comes on the stage when the lights go dark at midnight with only candles and fairy lights left to illuminate the room as people slow dance. you thought his silhouette might have looked familiar when he came down the stairs, considering that was all you ever knew of him.

he chuckles at your reaction to it finally clicking within you, truly appreciating your deep love for his performances, as no one usually cares much.

you and choi beomgyu continued chatting the night away, and he can see deep in your eyes that you're passionate about what you talk about. he loved finding out that the girl he always keeps his eye on when he's on stage secretly always admired him and his work.

when the bartender comes around with refills, beomgyu only orders water, finding it rather refreshing that a man can control himself and find satisfaction in only one drink as you usually do.

at midnight when the lights dim, beomgyu leads you hand in hand to the front row of the stage, getting to watch his performance front and center. he loves seeing you so close, usually having to deal with watching you from afar when you sat at the bar.

he performs dried flower, your favorite song preformed by the band. you watch his fingers caress the strings, long and dainty, pretty fingers. clad in expensive rings. wrist dangling with dainty charm bracelets. he has a certain class that is hard to find in men, and you feel yourself falling for him every passing second.

hes so passionate when he plays; eyebrows slightly furrowed as he instinctively plucks every note just perfectly. you’re also keen to every woman staring at him when his solo comes, whispering and giggling amongst one another. you grin.

after, he steps down and joins you in the crowd, asking for your hand and the two of you slow dance to the soft jazz, your head in his chest as he carefully steps with you. he smells of soft cashmere, and that’s the last thing you take note of before you’ve fallen completely head over heels.

the lights dim a bit more, his face barely lit by the candles but you can still see the sparkle in his eyes. his gaze is soft, yet intense and your heart stops as his face inches closer.

before you know it, your lips are touching what feels like velvet pillows; his lips. your heart races, blood rushing to your face and he pulls you closer, feeling his chest press against yours.

his sweet kiss lingers on your lips. you must have a sweet tooth, because you’re craving more.

“how about we get out of here?” his eyes are so intense on yours, realizing your fingers had interlaced into his long ago as you slow danced.

your eyes say it all; both of your body language says it all. you can practically feel your body heat radiating through your silk dress. cheeks flushed as he guides you through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

the taxi ride to his place is tense as you sit hip to hip, his fingers tracing your palm and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of one another. the taxi driver is the only thing keeping him from saying some not so appropriate things out loud, so instead he whispers them in your ear and you’re a giggling mess.

his high rise apartment is classy like him; low lighting and wooden accents, a baby grand piano in the corner under a chandelier, record player and a vinyl collection. an array of basses and guitars adorning the living room. it reminds you of the lounge, in fact; classical paintings and candles and dried flowers on the dining room table.

the tension only builds and builds, until it snaps.

he does so much as put a record on and offer you a glass of wine before your lips are on each other’s again. messy makeout, fingers intertwined in hair. his fingers precisely unbuttoning his suit before sliding under your silk dress.

the two of you stumble toward his king bed and you help him loosen his tie but he ushers your hand away, swiftly removing it from himself.

you fall backwards on his bed, feeling the silk sheets fluff up around you, cold against your boiling skin. he stands between your legs, pulling you toward the edge of the bed toward him with hands hooked underneath your thighs.

“hands above your head,” his voice is husky, eyes dark as he towers over you. dark brown hair messy and fluffed over his forehead.

his demand makes you twice as soaked and you swear a puddle has formed between your legs. you do as he says, feeling the cold air waft against the sensitive skin of your under arms and you’re pelted with goosebumps.

“good girl,” his voice is low, eyes dark. his cock twitches in his pants as you had done what he said, leaning down to hold your hands in place. your eyes widen when he uses his black tie to begin tying your hands together above your head.

“is this okay?” he focuses intensely into your eyes as he makes several concise knots, his voice tender and genuine as you bite your lip. it’s more than okay.

“mhmm,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, pressing his hips against your clothed heat, legs spread, wrapping around his torso.

you didn’t know what to expect from this choi beomgyu guy, but you could tell he was amazing in bed since the moment you met. he’s had you on edge, turned on since the moment he spoke. he really knows how to turn you the fuck on.

you’re completely out of control now, your wrists fastened tightly together by his tie but you love the feeling more than you ever expected.

he starts slow but increasingly gets more feral. starting by kissing your neck softly, he slips your silk dress off and blood rushes straight to his dick.

you’re wearing a lace bra, extremely see through so that he can see that your nipples are hard and poking out him. but what makes him nearly salivate; you’re not wearing any underwear.

well, you were wearing underwear earlier tonight at first arriving to the lounge, but you’d taken them off somewhere along the night.

“check your pocket,” you eyed the front pocket of his suit jacket and when he stuck his hand in it to discover a pair of lacy underwear, his tongue darts to wet his lips. he fought the urge to absolutely fuck the shit out of you right here right now.

“such a sneaky girl, hm?” he cocks his head to the side, the hint of a sly grin on his lips as he slides his suit jacket off, leaving him only his white button up shirt, yet it’s unbuttoned so that you can see his bare chest and torso peeking through. he pushes the sleeves up and runs his fingers through his feathered hair to expose his forehead briefly. he’s so unbelievably sexy.

his hands are a bit rougher on you now, gripping the fat of your hips as he tongue kisses you, so messy and wet and hot. trailing his lips all over your chest, he bites your nipples softly through the lace and it feels so fucking good. he makes a mess of his spit, kissing your body until his reaches your bare pussy, already drenched for him.

“already so fucking wet and i haven’t even done anything,” he groans at the sight of your wetness dribbling out and onto his sheets. he really can’t believe his eyes at how soaked you are, can’t stop thinking of how good you’re going to feel when he fucks you.

his lips are level with your lower ones and he stares up at you through fluffed bangs over his thick brows. you anticipate what his tongue will feel like inside of you, shuddering when his hot breath wafts against you. you’re so sensitive.

he supports your thighs with his hands, setting each of your feet to rest on the tops of his shoulders. you’re spread wide open for him so that he has the best view of your entirety.

he hasn’t even fucking done anything and you moan out, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. just the air exuded from his nose when he breathes brushes against your clit and stimulates it.

his tongue finally traces over your bud and you whip your head back onto his memory foam mattress. you can’t do this; no, there’s far too much pleasure. you’d never been this sensitive with anyone in your life. you'd never been this turned on by anything.

when his lips attach to your clit and suck, your hands shoot into his soft hair, grabbing handfuls of it as you whimper loudly; slurping sounds and moans echoing throughout his bedroom. your sounds egg him on; cock twitching violently in his pants with every single one of your sweet sounds.

when he inserts two long fingers into you and curls them up to your g-spot, it’s over for you. it only takes about four strokes of his fingers until you’re spasming, fluttering intensely around his fingers and grinding yourself into his face. his moans vibrate against you. no one had ever made you finish this fast.

“god beomgyu you’re- so fucking good-,” you huff out of breath between words, heavy head thrown back, chest heaving. his ego is stroked yet again.

the recovery from your orgasm is fast as he is quick to kiss you, need prevalent in his veins as you feel fire in him with the way his lips devour yours.

you clench around nothing, squeezing his arms tightly as nervous shudders course through your veins. you need him.

“choi beomgyu,” you whisper against his lips and his hungry eyes board into yours, lips puffy and glossy; he’s looks way too hot right now. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“fuck me,” your voice is quiet, desperate. hot breath seeping down his neck. he is done for. he's kept his composure this long. but there is always a point where he absolutely loses it.

he can’t wait any longer, swiftly unbuckling his belt and dropping his perfectly ironed black trousers down to his knees along with his boxers.

when his cock springs out, it slaps up against his abdomen with a heavy thud and your eyes widen. he’s got a big fucking dick. your throat bobs as you swallow down a bundle of nerves.

“holy shit,” you say under your breath but he hears you; dark smirk spreading across his lips. he looks down at himself, spreading the ooze of precum around his tip; a darkened pink shade with all of the blood flowing up to it.

since the moment you saw him walk through the door at the lounge tonight, you’ve wanted to fuck him. but the moment he saw you for the first time; oh he’s been wanting to fuck you for months.

"what was that darling?" he leans down to look into your eyes, tender touch against your cheek as he snakes a hand around your thigh and pulls it up so that your knee is up against your chest.

"hm?" his lips are inches away from yours, eyes dark and flicking down to your lips and back up into your eyes repeatedly. he throws your leg over his shoulder.

your heart strums against your ribs as you're anxious to take him, yet you can't wait.

"you can take me, right gorgeous?" he tilts his head and you can't process how beautiful he looks right now; soft, chandelier lights of his bedroom reflect from his big, brown doe-shaped eyes. your mauve lipstick smeared across his lips and chin. hair tousled back, revealing his perfect eyebrows and forehead. the sheen of sweat glimmering from his skin.

"i can take you," a small grin is on your lips as you fiddle with the end of his tie around your wrists, realizing that having your hands tied above your head has made you way more sensitive than normal.

looking down at the space in between the two of you, he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. he places small kisses to your knee, as it's resting by his cheek.

you suck air through your teeth when you feel a slight stretch as he guides himself into you, going slow enough to get you adjusted to his tip. you keep your eyes locked as he slides the rest in little by little, moans growing louder as the stretch intensifies. looking down, you realize he's only half-way in and you look up at him, lip caught between his teeth.

the stretch is so intense, but not as intense as his eyes on yours, searching deep into your soul. his hands come up to fiddle with the knot of his tie around your hands, suddenly feeling it loosen and your hands are free. immediately, they fly into his hair, thumbs soft over the sides of his face. he untied them for this exact reason; to feel your intoxicating touch all over him.

suddenly, you feel his hips meet the back of your thigh, and that's when you know he's all the way in. your mouth is agape as he slowly begins moving in an out of you, crashing your lips back to his as the skin of his thighs begins to slap against yours.

his hands are busy on you; one palming your tits as the other hooked under your thigh to keep your leg situated atop his shoulder.

taking him raw feels so wrong but so right; the edge of his tip feels fantastic against your g-spot, thick veins massaging you just right. your arousal leaves a milky white ring around the base of his cock as he slams into you. he collects some, bringing it to your mouth, followed by crashing his lips to yours again so that you can both taste it together.

“you feel so fucking amazing,” he breaks the kiss to speak to you, followed by a moan as he slams as deep as he can into you. you’ve ajusted well at the is point that the pain has turned into pleasure. his soft whimpers in your ear were enough to make you even wetter, easing the process of being stretched out.

he shuts his eyes as you’re sucking him i’m so perfectly, so turned on by the squelch of your pussy every time he enters you. he fights back the urge to cum, but it’s so hard with how beautiful you look right now.

your face is contorted in pleasure, hair sprawled out all over his bed, shimmery sheen on your skin from a mixture of sweat, tits bouncing with every slam of his hips.

“god you’re taking it so well,” he groans against your neck, lifting your other thigh so that both of your legs are swung over his shoulders. he’s impressed by your flexibility as his chest is pressed against yours, realizing just how far he is leaned down against you.

his hips are rhythmic against yours, grinding himself into you, a good tactic to stimulate your clit with this pelvis. it’s like he’s a professional.

his name along with a mixture of curses leave your lips in drawn out moans as your nails dig into his back, the sound of his name nearly drives him insane and he fucks you harder.

you feel the familiar ache in your core with every thrust, and he already knows you’re close because of how much tighter you’ve become around him.

he’s a moaning mess, deep voice like honey in your ear as you suck him in even tighter now. he reaches down to thumb at your clit and you’re right there, right on the edge.

“harder beomgyu, fuck me harder!” you bite down on his shoulder, his hips slamming at a pace so fast that his bed is creaking so loud. your moans probably audible from outside his apartment at this point.

“you gonna cum for me? yeah? cum all over my cock sweetheart c’mon,” his voice is loud yet deep and husky. his eyebrows are furrowed together in pleasure, sweat dripping from his neck and onto your chest.

the slapping of skin is so loud now, and he gives you three precise thrusts before you completely combust.

your sporadic moans are not what tells him you’ve just finished, it’s the absolutely insane convulsions that he feels inside you, fluttering around him at what feels like 200 miles per hour.

it’s enough to push him right over the edge in an ínstense orgasm. he pulls out immediately, busting all over your tummy and angling it to get some on your chest and face. milky white all over you, and there’s a lot too.

he’s so god damn vocal as he cums, his head thrown back so that you can see his addams apple in full glory, bobbing up and down as he moans.

you wipe your chin of his cum and lick your fingers clean, addicted to his salty-sweet taste.

he looks so exhausted as his chest heaves, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. but he doesn’t lay down on the bed just yet; instead he walks to his bathroom, getting a towel to clean you up first like the gentleman he is.

he wipes his fluids off of you with a warm wash rag, tender eyes on your skin as he softly cleanses you. there is a soft quietness about the room, not awkward, soothing actually.

he helps you under his silk sheets once you’re all cleaned up and he snuggles under with you, propping his head up on his hand as he rubs small circles on your shoulder.

“i look forward to seeing you at every show,” his voice is soft, a tender smile on his lips. you love how calm he is, how respectful, how tranquil. almost like he’s healing something deep within you.

“always,” you smile in return. you talked about anything and everything, in love with the way his eyes were attentive to you, keen to every single thing you had to say.

finding his hand under the sheets, you fiddle with his fingers, imagining all the things the future has in store for the two of you. you just knew this was the start of something special.

you hear the record player in his living room echoing with your favorite song, dried flower.

“can i have this dance?” he squeezes your hand under the sheets, smiling. and although you’re both tired, you each slip on a robe and walk hand in hand to his candle-lit living room.

it feels like you’re meant to do this with him, like you’ve done it together before in a past life.

you thought nights at your favorite lounge were everything you could ever need. but that wasn’t true. because tonight, meeting the love of your life proved you wrong in every single way.

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note: here is a gyu fic!! tysm for continuing to support my works while i've been gone. i'm currently vising japan and i've been here for a few months :) i'm happy to announce i'm working on a tokyo part 3 for those who enjoyed tokyo and the sequel!!! i plan on releasing more fics in the mean time. i hope you enjoyed this one<3

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 8 days ago

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Neverland

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 18

Prompt: Vacation

Rated: T

Tags: No UD AU; Cruise ship; Musician Eddie; Kids' entertainer Steve; Steve in a dress; Homophobic language; Sexual tension; Eddie being a horny disaster

Notes: Based on this brainworm. Artwork of Steve and Robin in their costumes, done by the incredible @arelliann this way.

“Hey, aren’t you on the band?”

Eddie stops his beeline for the staff room, stuffing the hand that was just about to rip off the bowtie back into his pocket, and turns to face the couple that has strolled up to him.

“Yeah?” he offers.

“I knew it,” the woman smiles. “You play the guitar, right?”

“Um, yes,” Eddie says, unable to help the proud upturn of his mouth. “Glad you liked it.”

The stuff they’re having him play is horrible, but at least he made an impression. It only goes to show how a skilled musician can turn even the most atrocious pieces into-

“Oh, we didn’t,” says the guy conversationally. “We thought it was horrible.”

Eddie gapes at them. They look back, like they’re honestly expecting him to reply anything that isn’t fuck you, you rich, entitled assholes. Maybe that’s what he should say. What are they gonna do, keelhaul him?

Except Wayne was so eager for him to take this gig. Two weeks on the board band of the MS Neverland, the Harrington Line's newest, shiniest, luxury cruise ship. He was so hopeful that this might be something Eddie would enjoy, and Eddie thought why the hell not? It sounded like an easy time, a paid vacation doing what he loved most.

Except it isn't. The jazz music is making his skin crawl, the passengers are a bunch of stuck-up snobs, and the green suit jacket and matching bowtie make him look like some kind of demented leprechaun.

But he can’t come crawling back home to confess that it didn’t work out.

“Erm,” he says. “Okay. Sorry, I guess.”

Then, he books it for the staff room, stomach twisting and face burning.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he slips inside, slumping against the door and hiding his face in his hands. “This is so humiliating.”

“Yeah,” says a voice. “Tell me about it.”

Eddie lowers his hands.

There's a guy on the ratty couch at the other side of the room. A guy in sheer tights, glittering tulle wings and a dangerously short green dress.

Eddie almost swallows his own tongue.

“Hey,” says the guy, shucking off his slippers. There's little fluffy poufs on them. “I've seen you before. You're in the band, right?”

“Hrrrgh,” Eddie says. The apparition tilts its head. Eddie pretends to clear his throat and tries again. “Yeah. I'm the guitar. I mean play. I play guitar. I've seen you, too.”

In fact, seen may be too tame a word for what he's been doing. Ogle the way the skirt rides up his thighs until his eyes almost popped out of their sockets is more like it. It's kind of hard not to, he guesses. He's caught several passengers of various genders and ages do the same.

One perfectly shaped eyebrow arches. “Oh yeah?”

Eddie nods.

“You're the … erm … kids’ entertainer. The fairy- no, shit, that sounds wrong. The … Tinker- … Tinkerdude.”

The guy throws back his head and laughs. His throat looks impossibly long in the low-necked dress.

“Oh my God, that's a new one. I love it.”

“What, really?” Eddie asks, chest fluttering with irrational pride. “I mean … you do?”

Tinkerdude nods. Then, suddenly, something seems to occur to him.

“Oh, do you mind?” he says, standing from the couch. “This thing is a bitch to get off.”

Eddie is about to ask what he means, but then Tinkerdude gestures at something on the back of the dress, something half hidden between the wings, and … oh. Oh, fuck, Eddie’s in so much trouble.

“Um, sure,” is what he says. Luckily, Tinkerdude has already turned his back, so he doesn’t see how Eddie’s legs wobble as he bridges the few steps between them.

“So, why the dress?” he asks, just to say anything while his clammy hands struggle with the rickety zipper. “Wasn't there, like, a Peter Pan costume?”

Tinkerdude chuckles. “There was, but I gave it to Robin. She was threatening to jump off board if she had to wear this, and I couldn't risk that. And besides, I make a great fairy. My dad calls me one all the time. Thanks, I got it from here.”

The dress falls open, revealing broad, muscled shoulders, and inches upon inches of suntanned skin. It's riddled in moles. Small ones, large ones, some light and some so dark they look almost black, scattered all over the guy's back, all the way down to the dip of his spine and the curve of his-

Eddie reels backwards, trips over the slippers and just barely manages to turn his fall into a clumsy collapse into the sofa. It groans. Or maybe that was him.

Tinkerdude, luckily, doesn’t notice. He's too busy shimmying into the jeans he's just pulled from the rucksack by the couch - all without taking off the tights, mind you, and how the fuck is Eddie supposed to live with the knowledge of what's under that skintight denim?

“What's your name?”

Eddie jerks his eyes up. Tinkerdude, who has paused with his shirt in his hands, is looking at him with a quizzical expression and Eddie can't help but wonder if he's asked him that before. His chest has moles, too. So do his stomach and hips. The dress is bunched around his middle like a sparkly green miniskirt. The fact that the wings seem to be spouting from his butt does, unfairly, not diminish his hotness.

“I, erm … Eddie,” Eddie croaks. Tinkerdude smiles and shrugs into his shirt.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie,” he says. “I'm Steve.”

He lets the dress drop to the ground, carelessly stuffing it inside his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Looking forward to hearing you play again,” he calls as he breezes out. “I think you're really good.”

Then he's gone and Eddie’s left alone in the staff room, trying to recover from whatever it was that just happened.

Neverland just got one helluva lot more interesting.

More holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles 2024

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acidsoju · 8 months ago

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LOST IN NEVERLAND

read part one here genre: fantasy au, royalty au, multidimentional au, romance, angst, fiction, action, smut, slow burn. pairing: prince! soobin x reader warnings: this is a second part!!, not proofread yet, cursing, sex scenes, mentions of weird vomit, love triangle, a little bit of second male lead syndrom from my part. word count: 22.7k summary: after being dropped into the han river, you wake up in another dimension― soobin's dimension, in which he the crown prince of a kingdom you have yet to get to know.

IMAGINE BEOMGYU’S SURPRISE WHEN THE FIRST THING HE FELT GOING THROUGHT THE PORTAL WAS YOU; you, floating unconsciously from the bottom of the lake, being swiftly pulled by a few water nymphs that the mage had convinced to help him with his little not-too-big-of-a-deal task about getting the crown prince of the Kingdom’s ass back home. You who were completely pale, a painful expression on your face even though you were knocked out as you emerged out of the water and reached the edges of the lake just where Beomgyu was waiting, arms crossing over his chest as he eyes you with little interest.

He was about to order you being discarded but instead scoffed and rolled his eyes at the accusatory stares of the nymphs who seemed to have taken a like to your unconscious-self, protecting your figure with their arms.

“Ha! Fine, whatever. Guards, warm her up and watch over her” he ordered; his command being obliged immediately.

Imagine Beomgyu’s surprise when the second thing he felt going through the portal was the most annoying pain in his ass, even overthrowing the prince himself from the throne. He watched with bored eyes as the forbidden mage flew out of the water with a harsh and dramatic splash and behind him, being dragged by a pair of tentacles, was the prince fighting to not lose consciousness too.

Kai snarled as he sensed the magic barrier capsulating over him; it wasn’t enough to stop him but it was about enough to stop the prince from crossing it. The forbidden mage knew immediately he was surrounded and outnumbered by the palace’s allies, so if he wanted to get out of there alive or at all, he had to drop the prince.

And that’s exactly what he did, with a little too much force into it, as the tentacle on his legs effortlessly threw him back to the lake; Soobin’s body crashing into the water with another dramatic splash before the water nymphs were hurrying to his rescue. Cold blue eyes met with a pair of burning brown eyes, staring defiantly back. Not over is what Kai’s lips mumbles to Beomgyu who just arches an eyebrow in his direction, and then the forbidden mage is gone after a flash of violet lightning.

“Assist the crown prince immediately” orders the mage looking at his friend being dragged to the edge of the lake by the nymphs, guards and maids immediately rushing in to help the drenched prince, whose consciousness seemed to slip through his fingers for a second before coming back to his senses. His lips were barely moving inches as he was stripped out of his clothes and changed into a dry attire yet Beomgyu caught on his words perfectly fine.

“Her… where is she?”

Then just in time, a loud gasp was heard. Your eyes flew open and closed immediately a second after, the bright light of the day making your head hurt like living hell; your mouth opened as well as you took in rush breaths in and out, in and out, in and out, scared air was going to abandoned your body once again. Then your rushed breath got stuck in your throat as you felt something disgusting down in your guts and before you could even think, you were rolling over your own body on the floor and throwing up; the loud gasps of horror never reaching your ears as tears picked in your eyes and a sharp whistle rung in your head.

Wasn’t that just a lovely first impression?

An exhausted sigh escapes the mage’s lips as he takes lazy steps in your direction, lips curling down in disgust at the sight; even if he was from a world where magic existed and coexisted perfectly fine with non-magical humans, he was sure black vomit wasn’t an ideal sign.

You blinked a few times, the warm tears rolling down your cheeks, finally adjusting to the bright light around you, swollen lips darting open as you stared down at your vomit― colored black vomit on the ground, merely inches from your face as you pushed against the floor with your hands enough for not be face-falling into it. Then you looked up, meeting eyes with a tall man whose eyes lingered on you without any kind of interest.

Beomgyu knew you were that little rude brat he’d had the pleasure to have a conversation with days ago just by the arrogant look flashing in your eyes as you stared back at him, directly in the eyes, even in your poor state; wet hair sticking to your back and forehead, lips with a faint tint of black after throwing up, eyes puffed and red from the tears, some dirt on you after being dragged out of the lake by the guards; all of that and yet you stared directly into his eyes.

Your eyebrows knitted as the man stood frozen in front of your eyes; judgy eyes staring at you― then your eyes trailed around taking in the figure of every person staring back at you, eyes wide open and shocked expressions on their faces making you feel like some kind of animal trapped in a zoo, and then you saw him― his eyes were already on you, trying to reach you even through a stare.

Completely ignoring the strange attires everyone wore or the pretty, almost transparent girls waving at you from the lake, you tried to get up, legs shaking uncontrollably at your own weight turning the steps you tried to take into clumsy deer-like stumbles; fuck was all you mumbled under your breath, throat sore and dry, before your legs were giving up after just a second; grunting as you fell to the ground on your butt, your eyes flicked up when you heard the clear sound of steps stopping in front of you.

“Such a nuisance” was what Beomgyu spat in your face before a faux smile was draw on his face and his hand hovered before your eyes, your mind going immediately blank as you fell unconscious to the floor. Beomgyu hmphed, satisfied as he nodded his head proud of himself. “Much better.”

Soobin huffed in annoyance as he watched the whole scene― if he could, he would’ve already been by your side, carrying you instead of letting yourself get even dirtier on the floor, but he couldn’t; crown prince and all of that, he was surrounded by the teary servants of the castle, words of relief, even some people falling on their knees in front of the prince. With a polite smile on his face, Soobin’s eyes flicked to the head maid in front of him, the one who had watched over him all of his life, who was trying to wipe away her tears and asked:

“May I ask for a small favor?” Soobin watched as the old lady hurried in wipe her tears with her handkerchief, nodding once to the prince as a sign of listening. “The miss over there… she is a guest of mine, a very important person to me who has proved her loyalty to the crown as she succeeded in protecting me when I was in despair, therefore I expect nothing but the best of the cares for her.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Ready to go back home, Your Highness?” inquired Beomgyu walking closer to his friend, head following the figure of the maid rushing and walking pass him, in your direction, being followed by a few more maids. Soobin arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you looking at me like that? Aren’t you super grateful at me for rescuing you? What about a hug to celebrate a moving reunion?”

“You could have helped her” accused the prince; Beomgyu rolled his eyes and pushed the frames over the bridge of his nose up to his eyes.

“I am not a nanny.” “We will see about that.”

Well, fucking hell did your body hurt, was the first thing you thought as you fell out of your slumber, hands moving against the soft covers underneath you, soft groans of pain coming out of you as to tried to stretch your body. Taking a whole long minute to recall everything on your mind― coming out of water and throwing up basically petrol, that must have been a dream, right? Last thing you remember was a tall man with long hair falling over his shoulders and the open palm of his hand towering over your eyes, and then nothing.

First thing you saw as you opened your eyes was the very tall ceiling, very beautiful Renaissance’s paintings on it; a few seconds went by as you understood that you, in fact, didn’t have any Renaissance-like ceiling in your room, not a bed as big as the one you were laying on and, hell, the living room of your place didn’t even have a ceiling anymore.

Whines in pain came out of your lips as you turned your body on the bed, stomach against mattress and dragged yourself up to sit down on your knees; eyes scanning the unfamiliar room you were in― just where the fuck where you?

You pushed yourself to crawl out of the big-ass king size bed, bare feet touching the cold floor as you walked over to the window almost as tall as the whole ceiling, opening the soft white silk curtain that fell from the very top, your eyes scanning beyond the balcony outside the window to the immense garden displaying on sight.

“I see you are awake at last” flinching at the sudden voice booming in the bedroom, you turned around quickly, your eyes immediately spotting the standing figure of a man wearing a maroon cloak in the middle of the room; bored brown eyes staring into yours from behind his round-shaped glasses, long brown hair pulled away from his face into a ponytail. You recognized him immediately― the one you saw before passing out. “Took you three days, I guess you are a lot weaker than I first thought.”

Frowning, you squeezed your eyes in his direction― oh, how familiar did the tone of his voice sound to you. It didn’t take you too long to realize, once again, that the man in the room was the same man who had magically appeared that one day on the arcade. Beomgyu huffed under your stare and let himself fall over one of the couches displayed around in the bedroom. The mage on the couch seemed to read your mind as his lips stretched into a sly smile as you put the pieces together about his identity.

“Not so smart either, uh?” you rolled your eyes and tried to speak, aiming to take a step to the front but the words never came out of your mouth, instead a pathetic gasp escaped from you as you had to press your back against the window to avoid falling to the floor once your legs started trembling weakly. “You certainly are not compatible with magic, Bambi.”

Huffing as you forced yourself to stand up properly, trying to ignore the wince of pain incrementing on your extensions, you look up from your feet to meet his gaze again. “Don’t call me that” yet to your despair, your legs shook with a little more force as seconds went by.

To Beomgyu it only took him a snap of his fingers to have a chair being dragged in your direction and swiftly pushing you over it as it moved back into his direction, only coming to a stop when the chair was in front of him. The cocky smile on his face only grew wider as he analyzed the bewildered look on your face while you shoved some strands of hair out of your face― the mage decided to have some fun as he snapped his fingers twice, caughting your attention; the tea table from the other side of the room moved immediately by his command and was dragged by his magic stopping in between your chair and the couch. The set of tea over the table started doing its job only that, of course, there was no one actually serving the tea.

Your mouth fell open as you watched the sight in front of you; the levitating cups of tea being filled by the big kettle pouring down the steaming drink. You didn’t even catch the quiet laugh coming from the mage’s mouth at your sincere amused reaction, Beomgyu only leaning back on the couch as the teacup moved his way.

“H-how…” you mumbled, picking up the teacup that patiently waited in the air for you to grab. Your eyes moved back to the mage who sipped his tea before answering:

“Magic.”

“Don’t fuck with me right now” you replied looking around as if you were to find any kind of invisible string pulling the furniture around; Beomgyu’s eyes widened at your choice of words and almost spilled the tea on his mouth, choking on it instead.

“Don’t what now?”

“This is some kind of joke, right?” you asked turning back to look at Beomgyu with a lot of confusion on your face. “Look, I don’t know how did you pull that little trick earlier but-

“Trick?” Beomgyu interrupted you, a single eyebrow raising as his gaze hardened; within a second, the boy opened both of his palms looking upwards, flames coming out of them as your mouth fell open again. “You dare to say my abilities are false?”

“… Okay, okay! Fine!” you exclaimed, raising up your palms in the air for him to cease whatever the hell was going on; snarling, Beomgyu put down the fire of his hands. “Geez, it’s just so weird.”

“Watch your tone, little girl, if I weren’t so merciful right now, you’d already be ashes” he stated before grabbing again the cup of tip to sip from it. “And you should refrain from using poor vocabulary while you are around.”

“Around?” you questioned, eyebrows knitting in your face as you leaned closer to the table. “Where exactly is around?” your question seemed to take Beomgyu a little off guard.

“You must actually be quite dense- this is the Fifth Kingdom of the Choi Dynasty, of course.”

“… Of course, yeah, haha!” you smiled yet Beomgyu saw the panicked flowing in your eyes and the corners of your lips trembling as you tried to maintain the façade. “And… my place, how far is it?”

“Like… five thousand dimensions away?” “Riiight…” Beomgyu watched over his cup of tea at you, studying every expression; from the way you looked around yet seemed lost in your own thoughts, how your eyebrows moved in concern in unison with whatever you were thinking, to the way your lips curled down before sighing and flicking your eyes back at him. “What about Soobin? Is he okay? Where is he?”

“It’s ‘Your Highness’ for you, little girl” Beomgyu replied in a scoff, parting his lips away from his cup of tea almost empty already. “And to answer your question; yes, he is okay. He was recovered almost immediately, as expected of a royal

“Is he… really-“ “Crown prince?” “Yeah.” “Of course, he was born with the title.” “I see.”

Taking a little sip from the teacup to avoid any more words coming out of your mouth, your mind revolted in thoughts about him and the supposed world you were. You were glad he was okay after everything that had happened to the both of you, but words weren’t enoug; you needed to see him actually doing fine, but were you to ask the quite intimidating mage to let you pay a friendly visit to the prince? Of course not; just from taking a little glimpse at him you already knew that he knew what you wanted to ask.

“He is a very busy person.” “Of course.”

You downed the rest of the tea at once, tilting your head backwards for it and licked your lips once the cup was empty; as you placed it down over the table your eyes met again with the mage’s, whose eyes always seemed to be judging you.

“You need to learn some manners while you are here” he stated, nodding to himself and fixing the pair of glasses up on his face.

“How long I’m supposed to stay here?” you asked, looking straight into his eyes; the mage gulped down, making the Adam’s apple on his neck move at the action. “When can I go back? How can I go back?”

“Well, hahah, it’s a little complicated” he laughed nervously which put you a little on edge; leaning even closer to the table as you knitted your eyebrows, he only avoided your intense eyes.

“What exactly is complicated?” you insisted, hands gripping on the seat edges to avoid falling of it. Beomgyu shifted uncomfortably on his seat.

“What isn’t complicated in life, little girl?” “Don’t try to avoid it, explain.”

Beomgyu huffed his air abruptly at your insistence, a little annoyed; his own eyebrows frowning as he decided to meet your eyes before speaking. “It takes a lot of energy to travel through dimensions and we don’t need only mine to open the portal but yours as well if you want to even think about surviving the little trip back home- not only that but I am running a little bit out of my usual energy thanks to someone falling into the portal so suddenly.”

“Not my fault, I was fucking dropped” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest with a pronounced frown on your face; Beomgyu twitching at your language. “And weren’t you supposed to be the Blessed One or something like that, greatest magician of the Kingdom?”

“I am” he cleared. “But even if I were to regain my normal state of energy after a few days of rest, we have a problem with you.”

“What? Why am I the problem?”

“For starters, you can’t even walk properly.” “Of course I can w-“ With a snap of his fingers, the chair underneath you completely vanished into thin air and even if you were fast enough to stand, your legs still failed you and you fell down on your knees. “Fuck.”

“See, Bambi?” remarked the mage twirling in index finger in the air to have you levitating on the air and sitting you back on the chair that magically appeared back on its previous place behind you. “Do not worry, this little thing with your legs is just a side effect of the impact of magic on a body that hasn’t ever come in touch with it, it shall be gone soon. However, you still need to make your soul more resistant to magic.”

“And how I’m supposed to do that?”

“Training, of course” Beomgyu’s lips spread into a big grin. “Lucky for you, you have been assigned to the best one all over the Kingdom, me” your eyebrows jumped in surprise at his words “We shall discuss this matter into detail later over lunch… for now, how about doing something about this?” his brown eyes trailed up and down at you, again, judging you.

“What is wrong with…” you mumbled looking down at yourself; well, you kinda got what he meant as you looked the extremely old-fashion white tunic falling down to your ankles. You cleared your throat and looked away feeling the mocking stare of the mage in front of you.

“I shall call the maids to help you get ready for lunch” he spoke as he got up; with a quick snap of his fingers the table went back to its original spot. “Once you are done I will come and pick you up to take you to the dining room” you watched how the man walked over to the entrance of the bedroom, stopping before they closed to remind you that you ‘should wait for me here until I come, understood?’.

You didn’t have enough time to panic after the news he so kindly had shared with you when the doors opened just a few seconds after Beomgyu left; a trio of women coming in with cordial smiles on their faces and stopping in front of you, lowering their heads before looking at you again.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, miss y/n” said one of the women, the one looking older and who seemed to lead the other two ones. “We have received orders from the crown prince himself to watch properly over you so if we may help you, I was informed that you are to have lunch with Sir Beomgyu?” you only nodded, feeling a little calmer at the soft tone the maid used to speak. “Wonderful miss, excuse us while we assist you to the bathroom then.”

You mumbled a soft thank you to them as the younger pair approached you and help you support yourself when you got up, walking beside you to the bathroom with the third woman walking before you. The bathroom was equally beautiful as the bedroom and big enough to throw a party inside; in its center was a big bathtub that was soon filled with warm, steaming water by the maid.

“I can do this myself” you said tugging down at the tunic covering your body when the maids tried to help you get undressed; they simply nodded and watched over you if you were to fall. Strangely enough you didn’t feel uncomfortable as they helped you get into the tub, your exposed body soon sinking in the water that relaxed your muscles instantly. For sure, you felt way more relaxed around the three women than the mage; maybe it was the fact that their hands weren’t on fire, you thought.

The pair sat down on a wooden tool on each side of the tub, slowly scrubbing down some soap to help you clean yourself while the third one stood behind you, scrunching down on your scalp, displaying the top tier massaging skills you had ever received in your life. You found yourself leaning your head back, tirelessly, as your eyes closed on their own.

The nice scent of flowers reached your smelling senses once the maids on your sides started rubbing on you some lotion, soothing up your skin. After your hair was washed up, the maid behind you curled up your hair in a towel to absorb the excess of water on it and the maids quickly covered you in a bathtub when you got up.

“That was nice, thank you” you mumbled, suddenly feeling a little kid who was being taken care of. The maids smiled as they walked you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom again, helping you take a seat on the same couch Beomgyu had been before. You watched how they rushed around picking stuff from a big closet on the corner of the bedroom, beautiful silk coming in display in front of your eyes. “These are… my clothes?”

“Personally picked by the crown prince, miss” nodded the maid. You were handed some clean underwear and you couldn’t avoid thinking if Soobin had picked it too, feeling a little embarrassed all of a sudden. The maids helped you put on the dress; Yeonjun would go insane if he saw this, you thought as you run the palm of your hand against the soft silk hugging your body till your waist, then falling freely to your ankles, almost touching the floor.

“Miss, would you let us do your hair?” asked one of the young maids, a little excitement in her voice as she waited for your approval, her eyes shining when you nodded, she rushed in your direction to help you sit down in front of a vanity, a big mirror setting in front of you. You observed for a little while how the maid started untangling your hair and braiding it up with the most care, soft eyes focused on your strands; then your vision was blocked by the other maid who started applying some make up on your face.

“You are very pretty, miss” she mumbled as she was too focused on her task, putting on some blush on your cheeks. “Barely need anything.”

“Done, miss” they informed as the three of them put down their stuff on the vanity and took a step back to let you take a look at yourself in the mirror; feeling a little awkward at first, you leaned in closer to observe the delicate braids falling on each side of your face, very Romeo and Juliet’s style, as the rest of your long hair falling lose on your back. “Is it to your liking?”

You nodded, soft smile displaying on your face as you turned around on the chair to look at the three of them, they looking proud looking at you. “Thank you very much for your help.”

They walked out of the room after lowering their heads once more, leaving you alone with your reflection and your thoughts.

Well, what were you supposed to do now?

Beomgyu had said something about having lunch but just when was he supposed to be back? Hesitantly, you decided to stand up, hands clenching on the air as you tried your best to stop the uncomfortably tremble in your legs, giving short and paused steps to the doors. You rested the palm of your hands against them, pushing forward to open them and taking a peek around, long halls displaying on each side and no sight of Beomgyu around.

Little by little, step by step you noticed the tremble starting to fade away, even though the pain seemed to increase; your knees shook a little but at least you could move around, painfully slow and with a type of support, which you found in the walls around you. Too excited at the thought of walking again, you started moving further and further down the hall, almost glued to the wall as you leaned the side of your body against it. Not so long after you learnt that this way took a little too much of effort when you started feeling extremely tired; fortunately, you spotted a door in the middle of the hall to what it seemed the outside so you rushed, how much you could, to it and stepped out, clear air filling your lungs immediately.

As you leaned over a balustrade, letting most of your weight fall on it, you looked before you to what it seemed to be a training ground filled with dozens of men and women in battle uniforms and wielding their weapons, each of a kind displaying for you to observe; fucking hell, you thought as you observed two of them fighting their blood, sweat and tears in the middle of the ground, it looks like a movie.

You stood there for a while, in part taking a little rest and in part too caught up in the scene unfolding in front of your eyes, something you have never had the chance to witness in your normal day life; it didn’t take too much for the match to end, one of the two people overpowering the other and winning the match. The defeated part walked away and in the ring in the middle walked in a tall figure, his persona shining brighter than the rest, making your breath hitch as you recognized him as soon as he appeared in your vision.

Soobin stood in front of the previous winner, sharp eyes analyzing his opponent as his hand moved to the belt hanging around his hips and draw a long and threatening sword. Your heart beat loudly when you saw how the other person launched at him to attack first, nerve-wrecking scythe-looking weapon slashing in his direction and it had been him if Soobin hadn’t moved to avoid it; you gawked as you observed him moving around the ring, fast and comfortable, sword crashing against the scythe with force, clanking sounds booming around.

Soobin huffed as he received a punch on his ribs but managed to clasp his opponent arm in his free hand, snaking one of his long legs in between theirs, pushing them down to the ground on a strong motion, kicking their weapon off of their hold and pointing his sharp sword at their neck, the match coming to an end with a new winner.

“Flies will get in your mouth, Bambi.”

You flinched at the sudden voice coming from behind you. Beomgyu took a step to your side and rested himself over the balustrade like you were doing, eyebrows raised accusatory at you. “I thought I told you to wait for me so how did you end up all the way here, mhm?”

A soft, nervous laugh came from you as you squirmed under his intense brown stare, you could almost see the fire coming out of them; you smiled apologetically to the mage, looking away from the prince to the man on your side. “… Sorry, it just happened” you mumbled, earning a scoff from him.

As you looked over at Beomgyu, you didn’t realize Soobin’s dark eyes spotting you immediately after he stepped out of the ring, his training session finished as he wiped his sweat with a handy towel. He didn’t think twice before dropping the towel and jogged in your direction, his heart doing martial jumps in excitement and anxiousness; Beomgyu noticed his friend moving your way, so when the mage pointed out at something and you looked that way your guts twirled. Soobin’s eyes shone brightly as they were fixed on you, big smile spreading on his face as he got closer.

Soobin practically skipped the little steps up to where you where, jumping over them with his legs and stopping in front of you, head tilting down to look properly at you. He didn’t give you a minute to speak before you were tugged by him, his arms closing around your frame and hugging you tightly, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he rested his chin on top of your head, eyes shutting close as he stood there, just embracing you.

“I am so glad you are safe” he spoke softly, finally letting go of the worry that consumed over him the days you were asleep. You felt your heart beating fast and loud on your chest, your hands shyly caressing his torso and rounding his waist to embrace him back, your eyes closing just as his, enjoying the touch and warmth of someone you knew, completely oblivious to the centenar pair of eyes on the both of you.

The little bubble the prince and you were went pop when Beomgyu started clearing his throat excessively with the intention of catching your attention, reminding you both he was still there as well as the rest of the knights watching curiously at their prince embracing a woman. You huffed and rolled your eyes when the mage started practically coughing dramatically trying to take a step back and away from the prince yet you couldn’t seem to move further as his arms around you only pressed you closer, back into his embrace.

Lifting you head from his chest to look up, you only found the tenderness flowing out of his eyes while looking at you in his arms, soft smile on his pretty naturally pouted lips.

“Your Highness” spoke Beomgyu walking into your bubble and hugging Soobin’s shoulders while looking at him with a forced, big smile on his face. “Do I need to remind you there is a whole castle watching right now?”

Irritation appears on Soobin’s features as the hold on you loosened a little, hands caressing your waist before pulling away reluctantly, face turning to a side to look at his friend. “I do not need to mind the prying eyes, mage, this is my castle” he said, arching a dark eyebrow at his friend who only rolled his eyes and pulled his arm away from the prince.

“It’s your parent’s actually, but of course” Beomgyu’s eyes flicked back to you, judging as your soft smile wiped away under his gaze. “And you, next time be sure to do as I say and wait. What could it have happened if you were just fell somewhere around in the castle?”

“Well, someone would have found me eventually” you mumbled, not really liking the whole scolding thing the mage did, your lips curling down in a grimace that had Beomgyu scowling back at you and Soobin’s smile widening. “See? You did find me right now, yoo-hoo!” the obvious irony in your voice made the men in front of you accentuate their previous reactions; Beomgyu’s eyes widening at your rudeness, trailing down at your legs while Soobin’s dimple makes its appearance in his cheek.

“Well, don’t you look better now, Bambi?” questioned the mage as you were standing perfectly fine now, only that he didn’t see your wobbling legs underneath the long silk of the dress.

“You look really beautiful, y/n” said Soobin, again reaching out his hand to grab yours but being prevented by Beomgyu who caught his hand in the air and pulled it back to its place, earning a scowl from the prince. “You are so annoying.”

“And you are talking informally again” refuted the mage; both of them rolling their eyes at each other made you scoff a soft laugh, which quickly switched to a wince as your legs felt weaker by the second you spent stand up, forcing yourself to lean over the balustrade again. Beomgyu’s eyebrows furrowed at you understanding immediately what was happening, while Soobin face twisted in worry, his hands flying to your waist as he towered closer to you.

“Are you okay? What is wrong?” he asked, whether to you or Beomgyu you don’t know.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine” you said, turning around while leaning your back against the balustrade, smiling reassuringly at the prince whose worried eyes scanned you over and over.

“She’s having a little aftereffect to magic” explained his friend as he peeked his heat to look at you over the prince’s shoulder. “Her body isn’t used to it so it reacts this way, reminds me of that Bambi fairy tale you used to like reading to when we were little.”

Soobin hummed as he listened to the explanation, his eyes never leaving you and his hold on your waist only tighten to try and help you keep on your feet, thumbs drawing circles in a way to try to give you some kind of comfort, only making you get goosebumps all over your body.

“And you are supposed to be training her?” questioned Soobin, arching an eyebrow even though he didn’t turn to look at his face. You, otherwise, caught the way the mage’s lips stretched in to a cocky smile behind the prince.

“Who else would?” he said, clearly proud. “It was a direct order from the Queen.”

“Do you need me to carry you?” asked you Soobin, ignoring Beomgyu’s nonsense, taking a step closer to you, one of his hands circling the back of your waist while the other trailed up to cup your face, thump brushing over your hot and red cheek.

“Don’t you dare” you spoke softly under your breath, the single thought of him carrying you bride style down the halls of his castle while you were dressed playing princess enough to make you want to gag and throw up everywhere out of embarrassment. Soobin laughed softly as if he were able to see what you were imagining.

“Fine, but at least let me walk you to where you have to go” he said, his hands not moving an inch from their places on you. You simply nodded, moving up your hands to rest them on his forearms, the muscles under your touch tensing up.

Fortunately for you, the dining room wasn’t that much far away, still Soobin walked on your side, making you grab onto his arm as he escorted you and help you stable yourself at the same time; Beomgyu walked on the other side of you, not really letting you touch him but still matching your pace as you were forced to take careful steps. The big doors of the dining room opened as soon as the three of you reached them, servants lowering their heads as you walked over the room.

“Here, have a seat” said Soobin walking you to one of the big seats and pulling the chair out for you to take it; you mumbled a soft thank you as you felt the stares of the people in the room on you as you sat down. Soobin took the seat on the head of the table, next to you; Beomgyu taking the one in front of you.

“So, let’s discuss matt-

“You look really beautiful, you know?” said the prince, cutting off mid-sentence at the mage whose facial expression went blank; you smiled, trying to appease the tingling in your stomach and the burning in your face which Soobin didn’t ignore, of course, glad to see the soft shade of pink in your ears. “But do you find the clothes comfortable? If not, we ought to go call the seamstress.”

“Don’t have to go that far” you said, shaking your head at the thought of having someone else that Yeonjun taking your measurements. “Clothes are fine, I just wish I could walk normally already.”

“About that” spoke Beomgyu, catching the attention of the both of you again, a slight irritated look on his face. “Would you care to hear about your own training plan?”

Oh, you didn’t like the plan at all. Not only you’d have to spent every day with Mister fire-out-of-my-hands who seemed to have a little bit of a short temper, but you would also have to endure him casting spells on you, like a little laboratory rat is what you thought. And not only did you need training in magic, but also needed to learn some proper manners and built your physical strength. “Why do I need to learn your manners?”

“If you are going to be roaming around here, we don’t need you causing any kind of trouble” before you could even protest, Beomgyu cut you off. “It’s not like I can present a young lady swearing her heart off in the middle of a grand ball.”

“Grand ball?” you question, eyebrows furrowing as you flick your eyes to Soobin. The prince’s lips stretched again into a smile, this time a little more nervous. “A ball as in dance, a party?”

“Not the kind of party your picturing, y/n” mumbled Soobin, having some flashbacks to the party he had been taken by you and your friend back in your dimension. “The King and the Queen, they have decided to host a ball to celebrate my safe return home and…”

“And?”

“And of course they way the one who I said protected me while I was lost there, having a good time

“I will add dancing lessons to our schedule” spoke Beomgyu nodding to himself as he pictured all the things he needed to get you ready to. Soobin’s eyes trailed back to his friend, shaking his head.

“I will teach those myself” stated the prince, earning an eyebrow arched from the mage; turning to look at you again, Soobin’s eyebrows knitted as he mumbled softly to you. “If that is okay with you, of course.”

“Sure” you answer trying to bite back the feeling in your chest, picking up some more food from your plate, deciding to ignore the stare of the mage in front of you probably to your poor mannerisms during supper. “When is this party then?”

“Two weeks from now on.”

From then on, your living nightmare started; you would be woken up extremely early everyday by the maids who soon understood you were a late bird and started dragging you out of the comfort of the big bed you started to get used to; they would get you ready still half-asleep for the mage to pick you up from your bedroom. Sun still rising, the two of you would share breakfast outdoors; Beomgyu speaking too much for so early hours as you could barely manage to pick up your cup of tea, most of the things he said going in and out of your ears.

After breakfast, physical training hours began; Mr. Mage had you doing everything that you didn’t do during your high school years when you skipped p.e most of the time, but ten times worse while he simply sat down on a chair watching you pant desperately for air as your legs began giving up on you, soon giving up completely and making you fall on the ground, dust rising up from the impact.

“Oh? Out already? Okay, five-minute break, then do three series of abdominal work on the ground.”

By lunch time, you would be covered in sweat and dust; clothes dirty and sticking up to your body, legs aching, arms falling limp to your sides and face flushed from the exhaustion. Lucky for you, the maids who have seemed to be assigned for you took the most precious care of you, rushing in taking you into the bathtub, rubbing every dirty inch in your body, letting you and your sore muscles relax under the warm water, rested enough to have lunch with Soobin and Beomgyu in the dining hall.

The routine didn’t end there, oh no; after having some dessert, Beomgyu would drag you away from the prince, who stole your full attention during meals, and onto his personal studio slash laboratory slash ‘office’ how he’d like to call it where the two of you would start your magic training which, if you had to be totally honest, was even worse than the physical one. Maybe it was the fact that never in your life until these last days you had been in contact with magic of any sort, excluding the typical coin tricks and the rabbits out of the hat that used to thrill you so much when you were a kid; this magic, however, felt like waves electricity flowing from the inside of your body, burning everything on its way to come out.

“Te-Ten minutes… break” you pleaded gasping for air as you on your knees, looking up to look at the mage sitting on his comfortably chair with a book on his lap; his brown eyes looked up from the book to you thought the frames on his face and scanned you.

“Five minutes break.”

It was safe to say most of the hours of the day were taken by the mage; it was only after dinner that you and Beomgyu would part ways, him leaving you with the prince who was in charge of your dancing lessons. Frankly, you were glad; Soobin was the person who you trusted the most in this world and while being around him there was this feeling that nothing could go wrong.

“Did Beomgyu gave you a hard time again?” he asks as the two of you walk into the ballroom, following you to the center of it. You sigh a laugh and turn around to face him, his tall frame stopping just in front of you, pretty lips stretching into a bigger smile as you connected eyes.

“When does he not?” you replied smugly, making the prince giggle softly and pretending your heart didn’t skip a beat at the sound of his cute little laugh. You had to gulp the lump in your throat when he stepped a little closer to you, his big hands moving softly up and brushing your hands until it reached the sides of your waist; long fingers pressing without too much force on your clothe skin, pulling you closer to him, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“Should we start now?” he mumbled softly, one of his hands going back to cup yours in his before lifting it up until it reached his shoulders’ height; the other hand swiftly caressing your waist as it moved to the spot on your back. It wasn’t your first or second dancing lesson with Soobin and yet you still couldn’t get used to this; not only he looked in his prime, wearing the silk clothes that hugged his body perfectly, mostly white, soft shirts with long sleeves, but his whole demeanor had seemed to change once he was back to his world. He was no longer Soobin the lost crazy man I picked up on the streets but he was the crown prince of a kingdom.

Music filled the ballroom immediately as he said the words, most probably due to the castle working with magic thanks to your own personal teacher, Beomgyu, and as always Soobin started leading your steps, slow and carefully, soft smile on his lips as his eyes were glued to yours. You, on the other hand, were too focused on your own feet as always, frowning as you tried not to step in your partner’s shoes, as always, to notice the tenderness flowing from his eyes, as always.

It wasn’t until you heard Soobin clicking his tongue and the hand holding yours letting go to use it to push your chin up that you finally looked back at him. “Eyes up here, y/n.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Your Highness” you answered, the title sounding strange in your mouth even as a mockery; his hand went back to grab yours, squeezing it a little after your words. A soft gasp escaped from you when the prince swiftly twirled you around, hand on your back disappearing for a second as you spun and back when your chest met his; Soobin had bit down on his lip to suppress the laugh threatening to come from him as he watched the bewildered look on your face, cheeks flushed and your clumsy feet stumbling on each other.

“It’s cute that you think you can hurt me, y/n” he answered as he continued to move the both of you around the room following the melody’s rhythm. The loose strands of his hair softly brushed against your forehead as he leaned in closer to your face, breath tickling on your skin as his dark eyes stared intently into yours, the hand on your back tensing a little against your skin. “And do not call me that.”

“That’s what I’m being taught” you replied, frowning as you remembered the amount of times you had been scolded by Beomgyu after calling the crown prince by his name; Soobin’s nose wrinkled at that.

“Just call me by my name” he said, his eyes inevitably flicking down to your lips as they barely parted open, his mind rushing in memories of the party in your world when you had kissed him, the way your pretty lips felt against his taking away his breath completely. Oh, how he wanted to feel that again. Unconsciously, Soobin leaned in a little more until his forehead was resting against yours, his own lips hanging open as he waited for the word to come out of you.

“Now?” you asked, the words leaving in a mere whisper, feeling as if any loud sound would pop the bubble you were caught in right now; Soobin hummed in agreement, him no longer leading you around the room, just the two of you standing still in the middle of it. At the feeling of dryness in your mouth, you twirled around your tongue over your lips and felt your heart bump like crazy when the prince in front of you copied your move, the movement of his tongue over his pretty plump lips caughting your attention. “Soobin.”

He loved it, the way his name fell from your lips without any royal weight and how it was directed to him, Soobin, and not him, the crown prince of the Kingdom.

“Once more” he whispered, plead in his voice, as his hold in your waist tightened, his heavy breath fanning over your lips. “Please, say it once more.”

“Soobi- mh.”

The word got stuck in your mouth as a pair of plump lips softly pressed against yours; your eyes closing immediately, hands moving up to hold the prince’s face in them, one hand thoughtlessly sneaking to the back of his head, brushing his hair and holding him closer to you. Fuck, his lips were soft and warm, and they moved so good against yours.

A deep sigh came out of the prince while his hands pressed you closer to him, his arms sneaking on your back to hug you thigh, his head slightly tilting to a side to allow him deepened the kiss and when the he felt the soft licks of your tongue against his bottom lip, he felt like his own legs could give up any minute.

The sweet kiss quickly turned into a more passionate one with your tongue exploring into the prince’s mouth, soon finding his own tongue and brushing against it, drinking in every deep sigh or noise coming from him, or even some soft whines when you tugged at his hair after he started nibbling at your bottom lip, warm tongue brushing against it while sucking, making you pant against his mouth.

“So pretty” he mumbled, pulling apart a mere inch to take a look at your face, starring eyes looking up at his, lips swollen and parted open as you took deep breaths. Soobin leaned in closer to you again, and when your lips opened a little more when he was about to kiss you again, he avoided them and let his head fall to a side, his lips peppering your skin with kisses from your cheek to your jaw and going down to your neck, humming as your scent filled his senses. “So sweet, y/n.”

An inaudible ‘oh’ came out of you as you tilted your head back when Soobin started giving slow licks against the skin on your neck, quickly adding some brushing of his teeth that sent shivers down your spine, the sound of his mouth-open kisses against your skin reaching your ears and making your mind fuzzy.

It didn’t take you too much to realize or feel the way he pressed his hips against you, his hard member forming a tent in his pants, the breath fanning over your neck becoming heavier as he covered you in kisses. You particularly liked the way he’d be a little rougher, hips jolting and a deep groan coming down from his throat, when you pulled his hair in between your fingers; a lazy smirk trailing up in your lips as you heard the boy whine against your skin.

“Soobin” you mumbled, flicking your eyes open up to the ceiling, your fingers twirling his hair in them and softly pulling to try and get his attention. He hummed against your neck, the kissing never stopping. “Soobin.”

His lips trailed up from your neck to your jaw, his nose brushing softly the invisible path he was following, eyelashes tickling you. “Why?” he asked you, a soft pout forming in his lips as you stopped in just when he was about to place them over yours. You bit down a smile, he looked so cute with his hair slightly disheveled, his eyes dark and heavy staring into yours and his ears flushed red. “Let me kiss you, y/n.”

You couldn’t say no to him, honestly, so you just smiled when he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours again, the sweet taste of him filling your tasting senses as his tongue moved with more confidence in your mouth. “Can’t get enough” he mumbled in between kisses. “Can’t get enough of you” he reluctantly pulled back, lips pouting automatically. “I wanted to kiss you from the moment you woke up” that made you giggle softly, couldn’t helping get on your tiptoes to plant a tender kiss on the corner of his red lips, his arms around you tightening if it was even possible.

“You should have then, my prince” you replied, arching an eyebrow.

“Perhaps I could have if you didn’t have such a guardian dog to your side” he mumbled, nose wrinkling and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, lucky for you, you have me all to yourself in this dancing lessons” you said, smiling smugly at the prince, whose lips spread into a grin after mumbling lucky me. “We really should go back to the dancing part, though.”

“Right” the prince nodded, yet his eyes glinted. “But my services are not free… I must have something in return, you know?” you snorted as the prince batted his eyelashes and puck out his lips.

So maybe days in the strange world weren’t so awful as you first expected; soon, as your body began gaining strength, the daily exercises Beomgyu put you through became more tolerable and you weren’t a mess anymore at the end of the day. Magic was still tough, but not like in the beginning; even though it still felt like the air was knocked out of your system, you at least could handle some movement under it which, for you, was a lot of improvement. And about the prince… well, you did learn how to dance quite quickly, it was fairly easier that you thought it would have been or maybe you just had a really, really, good teacher at that. Still, even though you caught on the basics fast, you didn’t stop meeting Soobin every night after dinner and what was supposed to be the rest of some dancing lessons ended up being some kissing sessions.

Not that you were complaining thought.

“Hello pretty, I am so, so sorry for being late” said the prince as he stormed into the ballroom, jogging in your direction while you waited for him patiently sat down against the window’s frame, your eyes flicking from the night sky scenery outside to the man approaching you with his eyebrows knitted. “The King and the Queen wanted to have a word with me.”

“Everything okay?” you questioned, the corner of your lips curling a little as he stopped in front of you and his hand went immediately to its usual spot on your waist. Soobin leaned in and planted a soft kiss on top of your head, mumbling another apology against your skin before pulling back a little to look at you properly.

“Of course, just some last-minute arrangements for the ball” he replied while you moved up your hand to reach the lose strand of hair falling over his eyes and softly pushing it away, your thump caressing over one of his perfectly-shaped eyebrows. “Nothing to worry about” a silent smile spread on your face as you observed the prince closing his eyes at your touch, his own pretty lips stretching on a little smile. “Sorry for making you wait, pretty.”

“I don’t think I can forgive you so easily, my prince” you replied jokingly; Soobin’s eyes slowly opened meeting yours immediately, his own hand going up to cup yours in his and place it near his lips so that you would be cupping his cheek. “Should I make it up to you?” Soobin’s head moved slightly to have his lips under your hand, planting a tender kiss in the middle of your palm, his eyes never leaving yours. “Here you shouldn’t be treated with anything but the best, I assure you.”

“Well, that’s sweet” you replied as you got on your tiptoes to kiss Soobin’s chin, instead your own lips falling against his as he tilted his head just in time to caught you; the hand cupping yours pulling away to hold onto the back of your head instead, leaving you no chance to pull away from him.

“That is sweet” he mumbled against your lips, barely putting some distance between you as a smug smile trailed up in his face. Soobin started walking backwards, pulling you with him; you frowned as you were dragged by the prince out of the ballroom, his hand leaving your waist to grab properly your hand, interwinding his fingers with yours as he made his way through the long halls.

“Soobin? Where are we going?”

“I want to make it up to you for being late” he answered, looking over his shoulder and smiling brightly at you. “I want to show you something I think you would like, come on!”

Now, as to why did Soobin thought you’d like to see the horses stable, that is something you really couldn’t quite answer. Still, you walked behind him as he pushed the wooden doors open and flicked on the lights, smiling amused as he turned to look at your reaction. You, well, you could just stare at the amount of horses inside, some curled up sleeping, others munching some hay, and others, like a tall white beautiful one, neighing with enthusiasms at the sight of the prince.

“Hello my dearest friend” you heard Soobin mumbled as he stopped in front of the white horse, his free hand going up to scratch his long neck. “I’ve brought someone for you to meet” Soobin took a step aside, allowing you to stand face to face with the horse whose eyes seemed to look at you up and down before scoffing. Should you feel attacked? Soobin giggled at your reaction. “Y/n, this is Odi; Odi, this is my guest y/n.”

“Odi?” you mumbled under your breath, the horse’s ears jolting at the sound of his name, stomping his hoof on the floor. “Nice to meet you Odi.”

Cute, thought Soobin as he pulled your hand under his and guided it to rest on Odi’s neck, showing you how to caress him, his eyes glued to you as you smiled at his horse.

“Ever rode a horse before?” asked Soobin as let Odi out, guiding him from the hold on his reins. You shook your head, following Soobin out of the stable; you observed how he adjusted the saddle on Odi’s back, patting him tenderly before turning to you, a hand stretching in your direction. “Wouldn’t it be good to do it now?”

“… Really?” you asked bashfully, placing your hand over his and taking a few steps closer to him.

Soobin nodded. “I will help you up, okay?” his hands quickly found their place on your hips, grabbing tightly enough to lift you up from the floor and over Odi’s back, the horse scoffing some more as you grabbed onto the reins for dear life, earning a sweet chuckle from the prince who soon followed you and jumped over, throwing a leg over the seat, his arms on each side of you as he leaned in to grab your own hands holding the reins. “Are you okay?” he asked amused at your shrinking self.

Maybe riding a horse wearing a dress wasn’t the most ideal plan, you even had to seat with both legs on the same side, the side of your body meeting Soobin’s chest as he pulled you closer to him and held the reins tighter, his breath brushing on top of your head.

“This isn’t so ba- ah, fuck!” you exclaimed when Odi started moving, startling you and making you let go of the reins to hold onto what you thought was more stable: Soobin. “Sorry, sorry, that scared the shit out of me- oh, fuck, Beomgyu would kill me if he heard me.”

Soobin laughed as he fastened Odi’s pace into the so familiar paths he had grown riding; little by little you grew accustomed to it and, feeling a little more confident, you turned your body to the front, eyes looking in amusement at the scenery changing in front of you; the only light outside was the moonlight that illuminated the path in the forest Soobin was following.

“Oh, wow” you muttered, a big smile appearing on your face as you leaned in thoughtlessly, enjoying the breeze hitting against you and making your hair fly back as Odi galloped through the forest. Soobin smiled behind you as he watched closely how you started to enjoy the ride.

“We’re here” announced the prince as he slowed down his horse, pulling from the reins; your mouth slightly hung open as you watched the small lake in front of you, shining under the moonlight, the soothing sound of the current making you relax instantly. Soobin jumped off the horse and turn on his heels, his hands finding your hips to help you get down.

“Hey, what is this?” you asked, flicking your eyes to the reflect of lights in the water to the prince. Soobin’s hands remained on your hips, his thumps drawing circles against the clothe skin while a soft smile draw on his face.

“Something I thought you would like.”

Soobin walked over to the lake, softly dragging you along, and only pulled his hands away from you when he hunched down to take his shoes off; your eyebrows furrowed as you observed him sinking his feet in the water and go into the lake, stopping when it reached its hips to turn and look at you, his eyes obviously telling you to get in too.

So, there you were, bare feet getting into the lake following the prince, trying to push down the silk of your dress that started flowing up while approaching Soobin, whose hand quickly sneaked around your waist when you caught up to him, pressing you against his side, a soft smile on his pretty lips as you put an arm over his shoulders.

“The water’s not…” “Cold? Yeah, it’s magic.” Or maybe it was Soobin’s heat irradiating from his body to yours, either way you didn’t say anything else as the prince walked further into the water until it reached his chest and your shoulders, your feet not touching the ground anymore which only made you grab tighter onto him.

“You okay?” he asked, turning his head, the tip of his nose brushing against your ear and his breath brushing against your skin making you get goosebumps. You nodded, turning your head to look back at him, your nose coming in contact with his. The prince hummed, the corner of his lips curling up as he softly placed them against yours.

Thoughtlessly, your own body turned to face the prince’s, your legs going up and around his waist, holding his frame in between, maybe for some more stability, maybe because you wanted him closer; Soobin gulped down, both of his hands hugging you behind your back as you clasped your hands behind his head, your fingertips pressing against the little hairs on his neck.

The prince hummed against your mouth. “You know that I love kissing you but I’m afraid this is not what I wanted to show you” he mumbled against your lips as he pulled away a little, a bit of fun in his voice. “Look up at the sky, pretty.”

Throwing your head back, you did as you were told, your mouth opening at the beautiful sight of the sky filled with shining stars above you, big full moon radiating the most precious light that reflected against the water they were in, bathing the prince and you as well; Soobin swears he could see the stars shining in your eyes as he was solely focused on you and the way your sweet lips stretched into a pretty smile at the sight, feeling his heart beating like a wild animal against his chest.

“Soobin this is so beautifu- oh, that is nice too” you hummed as you felt the warm lips of the prince pressing down against the skin on your throat, leaving a trail of wet kisses everywhere, a sigh escaping from your lips as a relaxed smile trailing up, the hold around you tightening as the man hummed in delight against you.

“I thought it would be nice for you to spend some time out of the castle walls” he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose softly up and down your neck. “Was I right? Did I do good?”

You hummed, feeling your cheeks burning up as you heard his voice― which was naturally very deep, going even lower while he moved up to your ear, his plush limps brushing against your earlobe before his tongue and lips got it caught in between them, making you whine softly at the weird feeling of it.

“Yeah, so good” you mumbled, eyes shutting close while your hands clasped his hair, feeling his teeth provocatively nibbling at your ear, his heavy breath turning yours into one alike. Soobin let out a deep and long sigh against your skin, the palm of his hands spreading open wide on your back, pulling you closer as if it was even possible.

As soon as you looked back down to the man, his lips attached to yours, moving painfully slow making you ache for more. With your own hands you pressed him closer to you, tilting your head to deepened the kiss, drinking the low groan that crept from the back of his throat at your motion, hands tensing against you.

Soobin’s tongue was warm, moving longingly inside your mouth, the once spec of bashfulness from the first kisses long gone; you couldn’t help your own sounds coming out of you as the man sucked at your wet muscle, his own gasps for air in between, hands grabbing onto you more desperately each time, his hips started moving at a slow pace against you, the feeling of his growing erection pushing against your clothe core making you tense under his touch, pulling at his hair with yearning, only gaining more beautiful sounds from the prince who seemed to accelerate his pace with that.

“Fuck, don’t do that to me” he pleaded against your mouth when you grabbed his bottom lip in between yours, sucking his skin like he was some sweet for you to eat and softly pulling. You flicked your eyes open, his lip still caught in between yours, only to meet his heavy gaze on you, eyelids half-open. A smug smile crept on your own lips as you purposely let go of his lip, only to immediately lap on it. “Y/n-“ your name left his lips in a shaky breath as his hands trailed down from your back to your thighs, squeezing your muscles hard in his big palms. “I- I want to touch you. I need to touch you.”

“Do it.”

Soobin’s hands started trailing up your thighs, pushing the clothe of your dress with them and sneaking underneath it; a sigh escaped from you as you felt him grab onto the bone of your hips, unbashful as he guided them up and down against his hard crotch, making the both of you pant against each other, the rhythm of his hips increasing each time until either of you were satisfied with it and wanted more.

“Fu-fuck, Soobin” you muttered under your breath as the man practically started pounding on you still full clothed, the sounds of the water splashing in between your bodies getting you dizzy in the head, meanwhile the prince took the best of the cares to your neck with his mouth, tongue running over and tasting you, biting softly and moaning against you. “Need you, fuck- please, need to feel you.”

You heard the growl erupt from the prince’s throat at your words, his body underneath you tensing and then how his hands hurriedly move to the waist of his own pair of pants; even though you couldn’t see anything that was happening under the line of the water, you felt his hands move and brush against you as he pulled down his pants, then pulling you closer once more, forcing a whine out of you as you felt his hard, bare dick pressing against your hot, still clothed entrance.

“Felt me enough?” he inquired, a smug smirk curling up in his face as he thrusted against you, watching every little expression you made, adoring the way your eyes rolled back before you shut them and the contrast of your mouth opening as you panted. The lack of answer only made Soobin click his tongue and push you harder against you, using the hold on your hips to push you against him, matching his own movements. “I guess this is enough for you, mh?”

“N-no, wait” you mumbled, forcing your eyes open to stare at him; Soobin had to bite down his own lip to avoid a pathetic groan escaping from him at your pleading look, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks red, lips swollen, eyes glassy.

“What is it? You have to speak up and tell me what you want, pretty” your legs hugged Soobin’s waist tighter, pushing him closer to you, your own hips moving against his making the prince chuckle airily.

“Need to feel you inside, Soobin, please.”

The way you so prettily moan his name had him almost rolling his eyes to the back of his head; instead, he managed to grab the waist of your panties and pulled them down, your legs forced to let go of him for Soobin to pulled them off completely. One of his hands found you quickly as the other grab his length, eyes fixated on yours as he placed the tip against your entrance, a sigh caught in his throat as he felt the heat and warmness from it, even though your body was underwater.

A shaky breath came from him as he pushed himself inside, head falling backwards as he felt the way your walls so deliciously clenched around him and heard the beautiful sounds that came out of you, breath leaving your body as you felt the big cock sliding inside your pussy, spreading you apart, making you dizzy in the head.

“So tight for me, pretty” he groaned once he bottomed out, forcing himself to take a look at you, his lips curling into a smirk as he saw the pleasure washing over your features; Soobin closed the gap in between yours and smashed your lips together, panting against you when he felt you clench around him even more.

“Soobin” you pleaded against his lip, him drinking up every little sound you made because of him, your hips moving up and down against him, trying to fuck yourself with his cock and failing at it while he held your hips tightly in their place. “Need more, fuck- need you to move-

“Yeah?” he chuckled breathlessly, pulling away from inside you until it was just his tip, then thrusting back in, earning a breathy moan from you that had his dick twitching. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that” you nodded, your hand grabbing a fist of his hair on the back of his head while your hips started moving again at the loss of movement from the man. You whined in annoyance; why was he such a tease? “Soobin, please.”

The sound of his name falling out of your lips had him doing what you wanted again, this time not coming to a stop as his thrusts gained a rhythm that had your mind spinning around; Soobin moaned loudly when you tugged the hair caught in between your fingers, making him going even harder against you, tongue twirling over his lip as he devoured the way your eyes rolled back when he started going deeper.

“Fuck, that’s it” you moaned before pushing his head down to caught his lips in between yours, his raspy gasps for air against your open mouth, tongues devouring each other.

“Is this what you wanted? Uh?” he inquired, his hands squeezing hard against you, fingers practically burying on your skin as he slammed into you. “Fuck, I’ll give you anything you want, pretty.”

Sweet honey-like words were ignored by you as your body started tensing up, one of your hands grasping to his shoulder hardly enough to bury your nails on his skin, earning a hiss from him. You were close and he felt it too, cooing at the way you walls sucked him in. “Going to cum for me, all over me? Please do, fuc-“

“Oh, fuck-“

Your toes curled as you felt the knot in your low stomach snap, your head falling backwards, mind going numb as pleasure washed all over your body; Soobin cursed under his breath feeling the way your juices coated him completely, warm, thrusting a few more times before he was coming undone too, turning into a moaning mess, his lips pressed against your ear making you the direct receiver of his sounds.

As the sounds slowly died down, all you could hear was the heavy pants from the both of you; Soobin groaned, sensitive, his dick still inside you, lips sticking to your neck, peppering kisses all over you. “Are you okay?” he asked, tenderness in his voice.

You nodded, letting your head fall against his shoulder, the tight hold on it gone as you caressed his back. “A little tired” Soobin chuckled and finally pulled out from you, still hugging you closer to him, embracing you in his firm arms.

“We should go back and have some sleep” he decided after smoothly pulling back on his pants just with a hand, while the other held you close, then started walking closer to the edge of the lake. You hummed in agreement, letting yourself be carried by the prince out of the water.

“What…” you looked confused at the two men standing in front of you; Beomgyu was a common sight already as you were in the middle of your magic training session; however, Soobin being out of his usual schedule was a rare one as the prince could only meet you during meals or after dinner. “What is going on?”

“We have something for you” spoke the prince, smile drawing on his face before flicking his eyes to his friend, who tirelessly sighed and walked over to a covered mirror in the middle of his office, pulling the curtain away and waving his hand for you to walk closer.

“Soobin forced me to do this” said Beomgyu once you stopped behind him in front of the mirror, yourself standing in between the two tall man was quite a funny sight and you knew they thought it too as you watched their reflecting expressions; Soobin trying his best to conceal it while Beomgyu practically snorted seamlessly. “Hand.”

You looked down at the mage’s palm opening for you to take it; slightly confused, you did, looking up again to meet his brown eyes staring at you through the mirror, a sly smirk spreading on his face. “You don’t have to look so scared, Bambi.”

“Not scared, confused” you replied, with a slight roll of eyes. “Can you tell me what is going on?” you asked the prince, eyes flicking from the reflection of the mage to his.

“It’s a surprise” he said, soft smile on his face turning into a little pout as he held up his own hand for you. “Hold me too.”

“Toddler” muttered Beomgyu on your side as you took the prince’s hand.

“Shut up.”

Then you felt the wave of magic flowing right into your body, a stronger wave than the ones you were used to making your knees shake a little; your eyes flicked back to the mage whose focus was all on the glass in front of you, yet to no one in particular. Then you saw how a purple smoke swirl appeared in the pane of glass, just where your face was and soon all you could see was a pitch-black hole.

Not long after, the hole was filled with color, noise coming from it and then the clear images on the other side making you gasp, your heart clenching on your chest.

“What the actual fuck is th- Y/n?!” Yeonjun terrified scowl quickly disappeared from his face, his eyebrows jumping while his eyes opened wide in shock, blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes before looking back at the mirror in front of him. “What the fuck? Did I lose my shit already? God-“

“I see where this little habit of yours come from” mumbled Beomgyu as your friend on the other side kept on and on, talking more to himself than to you.

“Junie” you said, voice breaking at the sight of your best friend. Yeonjun stopped talking when your voice reached his ears, mouth hanging open; you saw perfectly fine how his eyes filled with tears and how he moved to grab the mirror in his hand desperately.

“Holy fuck? It’s you, really?” he asked, lips trembling. You wanted to lean closer, but the men beside you held you tight by your hand. “Are you okay? Where are you? Do you have any idea-“ his voice broke and he had to stop to take a deep breath before continuing. “We thought you were dead, y/n, you just… completely vanished into air, no one could find you anywhere.”

“Sorry, sorry” you said as if you were in a trance, the realization of what it must have been to your friends, to Granny, to Yeonjun, thinking you were gone, not knowing anything about you for weeks; then you noticed the prominent bag under Yeonjun’s eyes, his plump lips dried and bitten, the despair in his eyes and you felt even sicker. “I’m sorry” you sobbed.

You saw Yeonjun chuckle shakily, moving his head to his sides. “Don’t be, baby, just tell me you’re okay, tell me where are you so I can come and get you, okay?” You saw how his jaw clenched and how he inhaled sharply before speaking again, this time with a little more anger in his voice. Your friend was an emotional mess, and you totally got why. “Did that bastard kidnap you? Knew he was fucking crazy from the start, fuck, shoulda beat him up when he was just under my nose.”

Soobin awkwardly cleared his throat before leaning closer to you, waving his free hand to your friend whose eyes seemed on fire when he caught the sight of the prince standing next to you.

“You!” Yeonjun exclaimed. “Soobin, when I catch you-! When I catch you, Soobin- if that is really your name!”

Beomgyu laughed loudly, catching your friend’s attention too. “And who the fuck is this?” The mage’s laugh came to an abrupt stop, brown eyes staring daggers at your friend who scowled back.

“Do you have any idea who you are talking to, you insignificant being?” “Ah, god, another one with his head screwed?”

After a few long minutes of explaining everything that had happened to Yeonjun and another few long minutes of convincing that everything you were telling him was true and that no, you hadn’t gone crazy too and that no, the men with you weren’t crazy either, Yeonjun reluctantly accepted your side of the story.

“So? When will you be back?” he asked; you turned to look at the mage who side-eyed you quickly before rolling his eyes.

“We still don’t know that-“ Beomgyu inhaled sharply as your friend interrupted him with a load of curses and bitterly smiled before speaking again. “Lovely. As I was saying, we don’t know for sure but maybe… a few weeks? Maybe a month thought, I really am using a lot of energy on this precious right now.”

“Sorry, are you tired?” you asked worried, turning your head to get a better look of the mage’s face; Beomgyu did look quite tired, he seemed to be trying to hide it but the look on his eyes and the way his hold on your hand started to become lose each minute was enough for you to notice it. “Oh” your eyebrows furrowed. “Junie, we need to go now.”

“What?” asked your friend, fear appearing on his face.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let Beomgyu use all of his energy now” you said, looking sorry at your friend. “I love you and I will contact you again, okay? I’ll let you know when I’ll be back and I am so, so sorry for having you so worried all this time.”

Yeonjun pouted but still nodded. “I love you too, y/n, please be safe and if any fucker mess with you be sure to rip out their bal-

“Sure!” you cut him off, giggling softly as you felt Soobin tensing behind you. “Take care of Granny, okay?”

Yeonjun smirked. “Of course, baby.”

And then the image disappeared; Beomgyu beside you let out a long and exhausted sigh, his hand falling limb to his side, yours only grabbing onto his. “Thanks” he muttered under his breath, eyes flicking down to yours, a little ashamed by his weakness. You nodded, squeezing his shaking hand in yours and smiled softly at him.

“Guess today’s lesson’s canceled” the mage chuckled lowly, shaking his head, mumbling something under his breath you didn’t catch onto before he turned on his heals and went over to the couch, letting himself fall over it.

“Wouldn’t you be happy if that was the case?” replied the mage, letting his head lean back on the couch’s chair, eyes closing and a simple frown on his face, even though his lips were curled up in a tiny smirk.

“You think badly of me, oh Blessed One” you answered, rolling your eyes and letting yourself take the seat next to him. “I’m not that weak to magic anymore though…” you mumbled; Beomgyu’s eyes flicked open to look at you, arching his eyebrow.

“Lucky for you that I am a little bit tired, I would have whooped your ass if not.”

“A little kinky, aren’t ya?” you said, smugness in your voice as you tried to suppress your laugh; Beomgyu’s lips trembled in annoyance before he huffed and looked away, only making your laugh escaped from you. “You’re so fun, Beomgyu.”

“And you’re insufferable.”

And Soobin didn’t know the two of you had gotten so close to the other; the prince observing the interaction between you two as he stood still in front of the mirror, unknowingly frowning as he watched you laugh and joke with the mage who, even though was frowning, and sighing, and snorting, was enjoying the little fight you put up with him. Soobin noticed it, he knew his friend after all and the glint in his brown eyes that rolled at your words was enough for him to tell.

Yes, he was aware that the two of you would spend several hours in the company of the other and yes, he did know you didn’t have much trouble getting comfortable to new people; you had demonstrated that once you met him and again when you got into his world, the servants everyday growing fonder of you as he had been informed. The thing was Beomgyu, a person he had grown with and knew perfectly well, a person who was uninterested to everything below him; who was annoyed first at the mere thought of babysitting you but now seemed to enjoy the little bickering you two had.

Oh, he didn’t like at all what he was feeling.

Sadly, for the prince, he soon needed to be excused and return to his daily duties, leaving him with no choice but to say goodbye to the both of you, a bittersweet taste in his mouth as he walked away and out of the room.

“Why are you still here?” questioned Beomgyu after Soobin was gone, the common judgy look on his eyes making you scoff.

“I can’t?” “I certainly would prefer if you go away.”

“C’mon, Beomgyu, don’t lie to me, I know you enjoy spending some quality time with me” you smiled brightly to the man in front of you, whose eyes widened for a second for you to see clearly the thought of she must be insane on his head. “There must be something fun we can do to kill some time today.”

“Just say you don’t know anyone else around, Bambi” he said, voice tinted with amusement, making you roll your eyes.

“Not like you have any other friends, Beomgyu.”

“You are really annoying, you know that?” Beomgyu snarled. “Okay, fine, maybe there is something we can do.”

That is how you and Beomgyu found yourselves leaving the grounds of the castles, teleporting into town; himself under his usual cloak, hood covering almost all his face while you, on the other hand, wear one of the pretty dresses that filled the wardrobe of your bedroom, kindly being tidy up by the maids when you told them you were going out.

“You really should cover yourself” is what Beomgyu said before he’d take your hand and made you appear on the entrance of the carnival displaying all over the town. Ignoring the twist on your guts by magic travelling, you soon got mesmerized as you observed around; it really resembled the pictures you used to watch, everything looking kinda medieval but with the little twist of magic being a crucial part of society.

Beomgyu observed the way you watched every single detail carefully, your eyes almost sparkling at everything that was so common in his life and he couldn’t fight the small smile threatening on his face.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed, clearly excited as you walked into the town’s heart; new smells and sights stealing your attention by the second, dragging the mage by the hold you had in his hand, making him awkwardly stumble on his own feet as he tried not to crash against your small body leading the way.

“Come, come here, my child, and taste Madam Renée’s delicious caramel apples!” your attention was quickly stolen by the gentle lady who flashed smiles in your direction, displaying some really good-looking caramel apples for you to have your mouth watering and your feet moving on their own as if you were in some kind of spell.

“You shouldn’t use magic to attract clientele, old lady” it was Beomgyu’s stern voice behind you that got you out of your trance, his hand sliding up from under yours to hold your wrist in place before you could grab one of the apples. Your eyes flicked to the lady behind the counter whose smile suddenly dropped and scoffed at the mage.

“Back away, little rascal, I’m just doing business” the lady snarled at him before smiling again at you. “How many would you like, sweetie?”

The little glint in her eye made you gulp a little nervous. “Just one, please.”

“Do you even have any money?” questioned Beomgyu, tilting his head over your shoulder to look at you. You laughed nervously, feeling some warm spreading through your cheeks as you remembered that, in fact, you were broken.

“Forgot about that” you mumbled, showing the mage the best-selling smile you could; Beomgyu scoffed and grab the apple you had reached for initially, leaning over you and putting down some gold coins on the counter.

“Two apples, old hag.”

“Better watch your mouth, you little shi-“ the lady’s words quickly stopped as Beomgyu lifted up his hood a little, revealing his face enough for the lady to recognized him, the color of her face quickly draining. “O-oh! What an honor to have you here, master."

“That’s better. Let’s go, Bambi.”

After grabbing your own apple, you hurried behind Beomgyu’s tall frame, your eyes looking up curiously as you tasted the really sweet apple.

“You really are careless, y/n” he muttered, giving you a stern look as the both of you continue your walk down the carnival. “What would have happened if that old hag had worse intentions and you just obediently followed her?”

“Good for me I have you, then” you answered flashing an innocent smile at the mage whose eyes quickly snapped away from you, nose shrinking in annoyance.

“Ah, yes” he sighed already feeling the headache the whole day with you was going to give him. “I guess you are lucky indeed.”

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Beomgyu ended up having a good time; it had been a really long time since he had been into town’s carnival, his good only memory of it unfortunately being attached to a really bad one that had had him having nightmares uncountable times just until a few years ago. But this time, with you annoyingly running around amused at everything, reminding Beomgyu of a little cub, and him following you to stop you from getting into trouble, he barely had time to think about anything else.

“Break time” he pleaded, taking a seat on the edge of the fountain that decorated the town’s center, coins filling its ground as people still had that silly belief of asking for wishes. You smiled at the, your arm brushing to his as you carelessly fell took the seat next to his unknowingly too close, your eyes admiring the surroundings, a soft smile resting on your face. The sun had started to set down and that meant the lights had flicked on, bathing everywhere in warm light; laughs were heard everywhere and music reached your ears as a small group played some catchy melodies, making people stop to either hear some more or dance around. “I might have made an extraordinary job with you- how do you even have energy left, Bambi?”

Laughing, you replied. “I guess you could say I am the best one of your students so far, uh?” you joked, making Beomgyu scoff.

“Yeah, the best at annoying my ass” you laughed even louder at his comeback and Beomgyu couldn’t help but to stare a little longer than he should, the warm lights making you glow underneath them, his heart painfully skipping a beat― what? The realization made him pull his eyes away from you, the smile on his face that he had fail to notice falling. “We should go back now.”

“Oh” he hated the sad look on your face when you heard that and the way your smile faltered a little as you tried to keep the eye contact with him, failing at the end and looking away before nodding. “Alright, let’s go.”

You followed Beomgyu or, well, tried to but it became harder as he only fasted his pace; not only that but the amount of people had multiplied and you had to stop in your tracks several times to avoid bumping into someone. You tried calling for Beomgyu but he didn’t seem to hear, only walking back to the entrance of the town and after a few more people got in your way, you soon lose the sight of him.

“… Princess…” you looked around, the mass of people flowing around you and blocking your sight making your chest hurt, the feeling of being trapped and the failed attempts to spot the mage around making you panic, the palm of your hands sweating as you clenched them in fists; the shiver running down your spine made you slightly jump in your caged spot, turning your head around to watch where the sinister whispers were coming from. “Little princess, you’re time is running out, hehehe-“ Your breath got caught up in your throat, a feeling you already knew and never wanted to feel again, but the familiar voice that tormented you during the nights alone paralyzed you.

“Dumbass” a big and warm hand grabbed your shoulder, starling you; Beomgyu arched an eyebrow when you flinched and turned around, eyes bewildered and breath agitated. “What is it? Were you that scared of losing me?” Even the little tease in his voice didn’t help you calm down, your eyes leaving his to look around once more, your sweaty hands moving up to clasp his forearm tightly, scared of being left alone there.

You were grateful he didn’t start interrogating you right in the middle of the sea of people and instead was quick to drag you out of there; his eyes though, they flicked back and forth to you in concern and it was only when the two of you were at a safe distance from everyone else when he decided to speak. “Tell me what got you like this, Bambi.”

You fail to notice the way you had been gripping onto his forearm this whole time and only let go of him when his free hand brushed your fingers’ thigh hold, blinking a few times before taking in a deep breath, trying to calm your scared heart.

“He was here” you mumbled, the slight tremble in your voice not going unnoticed by the mage.

“Who?” he frowned, unconsciously taking a step closer to you, even if he knew he couldn’t help it, you looked like such a lost deer that he felt the urge to save you in his pocket.

“Kai.” “That is impossible.” “I am sure, Beomgyu.”

The mage gulped down at the serious look your shot him, one of your hands clasping the cloth of his cloak and hanging in there, your eyes still bathed in fear but managing to contain a little of yourself to connect with his eyes. Beomgyu’s mind rushed in thoughts― if Kai was there, how come he didn’t sense him? Were you sure? Or was it the trauma of your last encounter with the dark mage playing with your mind right now? Whatever it was he knew he had to investigate it further, but alone so what he did was sigh and grab the hand hanging from his clothe in between his.

“Let’s get you to safety first” he said, not waiting a second before teleporting the two of you back into the castle, and exactly to where he knew you needed to be right now.

Soobin’s eyes flicked up from the papers spreading all over his desk when the warm and familiar light loomed up out of nowhere in the middle of his office, his eyebrows knitting as he was able to spot the figures of both his best friend and you hand in hand.

“Good evening, Your Highness” mumbled Beomgyu, turning his head to look at his friend sitting behind his desk, the dark frames slipping on the bridge of his nose being pushed back into place as he leaned back to observe at the mage. Hearing his words, you also looked to the prince glaring at the two of you, an almost inaudible sigh of relief leaving you at the sight of him.

“Soobin” your lips stretched into a soft smile, your hand scaping from the mage’s hold as you took a step closer to the prince. Soobin’s eyes flicked to you and, even thought he smiled back, you noticed how it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hello y/n” the stiffness in his voice got you frowning a little and the way he broke the eye contact with you to look down at the papers on his desk got you stopping in your tracks.

“I will be off now, got some work to do” informed the mage on your back, not waiting for an answer from anyone as he walked to the doors and crossed them, shutting them close behind him and leaving you alone with the prince in his office― you and him and the awkward silence around you.

“Is something wrong?” you asked softly as you walked closer to the prince, whose eyes still rejected to look back at you. Soobin hummed, writing something down before answering.

“Of course not, why would it be?”

You stopped next to him, behind his desk, and leaned against the dark wood; your fingers shadowed under the prince’s chin before pushing it up, forcing him to meet your eyes as you whispered a look at me, Soobin.

A long sigh came out of his pouty lips the moment his dark eyes met yours, his eyebrows knitting immediately over his dark frames; your free hand moved up and grabbed the frames before delicately pulling them off, placing them away on his desk before you cupped his cheek, your thump caressing his soft skin earning another shaky sigh from him.

“Tell me what is wrong, mh?” you asked as you pulled off some pretty eyes just for him, tenderly drawing circles on his skin

Fuck, you were good, he thought. “How… How was the carnival?” he asked, envy evident on his voice catching you a little off guard.

“Well, I had fun” you replied with honesty, deciding to leave the last part out, tilting your head slightly as you leaned closer to look into his eyes, trying to decipher what was happening with your little prince. “Were you sulking cause you couldn’t come?”

“… No” he answered, bashfully looking at a random object behind you. “I am most definitely not sulking… I just- I don’t know, it’s embarrassing” his ears tinted red as he flicked his eyes back to yours. “I am a little sad that I wasn’t the one escorting you.”

“I see” you mumbled trying to bite down the amusement in your voice, yet your eyes shone in a way that gave you away, making the prince getting even more embarrassed. “So, you were jealous, uh?”

“God, it sounds awful if you put it like that” he groaned ashamed, making you laugh a little.

“I just spoke the facts, Soobin” you smiled tenderly before leaning closer and giving him a soft kiss on his pouty lips. “There is nothing for you to be jealous about.”

“But there is” he mumbled, his head following yours as you pulled away from the short kiss, his eyes glued to your lips. “Not only Beomgyu’s the one taking you to the carnival but to the dance.”

“What do you mean? I don’t remember him asking me” you replied, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “You haven’t asked me either” Soobin groaned again, this time in annoyance.

“Trust me, there is nothing more that I want but that. I would have already asked you if I wasn’t..., well, me” he replied, tasting the last word bitterly. “The Crown Prince isn’t supposed to take anyone to the ball, he’s supposed to just stand beside his parents like some kind of accessory for them to brag about all night long.”

“Oh, that sounds…” you grimaced; wasn’t this supposed to be a ball to celebrate the prince’s safety return? Biting down the question, you decided to plant another sweet kiss on the prince’s lips, who reciprocated assertively and again chased after your lips once you pulled away. “Cheer up, bunny, it will be only a couple of songs, I’m sure Beomgyu would leave me when he gets tired.”

“I am confident he will not” he replied a little bit sulky but still leaning in to your touch. “Bunny, uh?”

“A little nickname I thought it suited you” Soobin lips stretched into a tiny smile as he turned his face to plant a kiss on the palm of your hand still cupping his cheek. “Do you like it?”

“Love everything that comes from you, pretty.”

Days went on and the ball was just around the corner; the castle was buzzling with the final preparations for the main event of the Kingdom, maids and butlers rushing all over the halls, even Beomgyu started getting severely interrupted for instructions by his disciples during your lessons. You observed carefully how the mage explained something into further detail to the rest of the young mages, them watching him with stars in their eyes and nodding at the words leaving his mouth. As he turned around, one of his brown eyebrows arched in your direction while you stared at him from your sit on the couch.

“I guess you are pretty looked up to” you stated once his disciples rushed out of his office; Beomgyu snorted, his eyes rolling but a faint shadow of a smile appearing on his lips.

“And you realize that now?”

“Looks like I’ll be going to the ball with someone quite big” you said playfully, your eyebrows moving up and down at the mage.

“I don’t recall asking you to be my partner.” “Who else would you take then?” “Mind you, I am a pretty solicited man in this kingdom, Bambi.”

“Okay, I can see that” you replied, nodding slightly as you got up and walked closer to the mage who seemed a little taken aback and almost flinched. “Well then, I will ask you first. Would you like to be my partner for the dance? … God, this feels like prom but older.”

Ignoring your last sentence, Beomgyu frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Aren’t you going with your oh, so charming prince in shining armor?”

“He told me he isn’t supposed to take anyone…”

“Oh, so he told you” the mage nodded, dark brown eyes staring into yours. “And I am the second option?” the corner of his lips slightly turned down.

“You’re no second option, you’re just the best one I have right now” you answered smiling jokingly at him. “Although I don’t really mind going alone” you added, ending with a simple shrug on your shoulders. “If you want to go with someone else that is completely fine” Beomgyu snarled at your comment, making you a little confused so you ended up adding: “Or if you just don’t want to go with me, geez, that’s fine too.”

“Shut up” he mumbled. “Fine, I’ll go with- no, you’ll come with me. I will pick you up from your bedroom so you better be ready in time.”

You smiled. “Of course, partner.”

“Master Beomgyu! A word, please?”

Ball day arrived as fast as you could blink and it was the most chaotic morning you had ever have in a long time; maids rushing in your bedroom at early hours, spreading open the curtains to let the natural light inside, pulling away your bedcovers from your body making you flinch in your bed and then tugging from you out of the comfort of your sleep to get you inside the bathroom and help you bathe.

They dedicated full hours to polish every single detail of you; from your nails to your eyebrows, doing a full skincare all over your body and even a massaging session to help you relax your muscles. By the time you were all dressed up and your hair was finishing getting done, you heard a few knocks on your door.

“The mage is here!” exclaimed one of the maids after speaking to Beomgyu on the other side, making you frown; he was earlier than he had said. Either way, you just motioned for them to let him in; you heard his footsteps as he walked inside but you couldn’t turn to greet him as a maid was working on finishing your make up, blocking your view and movements completely, only being able to hear the rest of the servants offering him to take a seat on the couch and wait for you.

“We are done, miss!”

There wasn’t a time when seeing yourself all dolled up by the maids didn’t catch you off guard but this time it made you had to close your mouth after a few seconds when you realized you were gawking at yourself; they really should rise their salary you thought as your fingers brushed your face still in amusement, your eyes trailing up from the beautiful and delicate jewelry they had put on you to the dress hugging your body and falling to the floor splendidly.

Fucking Cinderella shit.

Clumsily you got up from the seat and turned around to face the mage who was too focused on his own nails to notice you were ready; his eyes only snapped up to you when he heard your steps getting closer― oh. Beomgyu’s eyes grew bigger at the sight of you, gulping down to kill the feeling of his heart beating loudly on his throat, his own mouth going slack as his eyes moved down to your figure. The mage opened his mouth trying to get some words out, anything but when nothing came out he decided to clear his throat and stand up, ignoring the shameful way his knees trembled as he took steps closer to you.

“You cut your hair!” you exclaimed surprised at the sight of the mage; he wasn’t wearing his usual robes nor he had his long hair falling over his shoulders or tied in a ponytail as usual. Beomgyu’s hair was cut short, still fairly long, but its ends reaching his shoulders, wearing a beautiful suit that matched the colors and designs of your dress.

Beomgyu felt his breath faltering when you leaned closer and carelessly reached out a hand to touch his hair, your face closer to his than he had ever imagined― beauty, he dared to think.

“It suits you so well” you complimented him, letting go of the strand of hair and putting some distance again, oblivious to the way the mage regained his breath as you did that. Beomgyu forced himself to regain some composure, kneeling slightly in front of you, taking you by surprise as it was something he had never done before, and offering his hand for you to take; moving closer both of your hands to his face and placing a delicate kiss on your knuckles as he looked up.

“You look… beautiful” he said as he straightened up, his hand lowering but not letting go of yours, instead giving you a light squeeze. You thanked him, your smile only growing bigger at his compliment and he had to force himself to look away, clearing his throat once more and directing your hand to grab on his arm. “Ready?”

As Beomgyu and you walked down the hall and the muttering of people became louder and louder, so did the panging of your heart anxiously beating on your chest and the mage next to you, as the meticulous observer he was, realized it. “I can hear your brain working, Bambi, relax.”

You laughed nervously as you looked up at the man escorting you. “Sorry, just a little nervous, never had done something like this before.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous, you have me as a partner” he replied smuggly, making you scoff a little.

“You sound so cool” you joked, watching Beomgyu’s lips curling up in a sly smile.

“I am cool.”

Beomgyu and you made your way into the big, completely transformed ball room, shining brighter as ever, and you fighting against your urge to turn around and run away as you felt all ― absolutely all the eyes on the both of you; heads turning in your direction and conversations stopping abruptly to take a better look at whoever was that young girl escorted by the most prestigious mage of the kingdom.

“See?” muttered Beomgyu quietly only for you to hear as he led the two of you to a corner to patiently wait for the main characters of the night to arrive, grabbing two cups filled with sparkling water from a butler walking around with a tray filled with it and offering you one. “Not as bad as you thought, uh?”

You simple nodded and sipped some of the alcohol in your glass, your eyes looking around curiously; rich people party is what you thought as you quietly analyzed their clothes, their jewels, their mannerisms, their judgy stares towards you. What were you doing in that place? You didn’t belong to this world, clearly.

Your thoughts were cut off by the loud trumpets booming all over the ballroom, everyone’s attention shifting to the principal entrance’s door that were opening only to reveal two big figures with strong auras walking inside, crossing the middle of the ballroom under everyone’s eyes until they reached their seats on the throne; behind them walked alone a man of great height and port, polite smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes.

Soobin stood next to his father whose big smile seemed to radiate light, a cup filled with wine being raised in his hand and his free hand on his son’s shoulder, patting him tenderly for everyone to see. What the King was saying didn’t even reach your ears; your mind went immediately numb the second the pair of dark eyes met yours across the room, shining brighter at the sight of you before they shamelessly trailed down to your dress, his eyebrows slightly twitching and his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down.

“… For the safety return of this Kingdom’s beloved crown prince, cheers!” “Cheers!”

Soobin didn’t move his eyes away from your for a second, nor when he drank from his own cup or when his father indicated him to seat on his throne or when Beomgyu caught your attention by pulling away your empty cup and gently grabbed your hand, silently asking you to dance; the prince inhaled sharply, straightening his back against his throne backrest, his lips inevitably curling down as he watched Beomgyu place one of his hand on the spot in your waist, pulling you closer to him and smirking smugly at you, muttering something on your ear that had you laughing softly as you reached your own hand to hold his.

And the way― the way you looked tonight, you were incredibly stunning, shining like a jewel yourself and Soobin had to grab tightly onto the armrest of the throne to stop himself from standing up and stealing you away from his friend and from everybody else in the room whose eyes lingered on you longer than he ever wanted.

“Y/n…” muttered Beomgyu under gritted teeth, the hand on your waist tightening, making you gulp nervously. “Did you just stomp on my feet? I thought Soobin did teach you how to dance.”

“Sorry, sorry, heh” you laughed nervously, feeling your cheeks warm; Beomgyu, of course, was a good dancer too and lead you perfectly well through the dance floor but his style was quite different to the one you were used to, which was Soobin’s. “Did I hurt you?”

Scoffing, Beomgyu replied. “Well, obviously not, you are so light you couldn’t even hurt a fly if you step on it.”

“I don’t think that’s- “I am trying to say that you can stomp on my feet if you need to, Bambi” “Thanks.”

Two full songs went on successfully with you and Beomgyu dancing around the ballroom, muttering some sorrys in between as you continued to step on him, and him ever so slightly making fun of you for it, liking the way you huffed in embarrassment and looked away. After a third song you accepted Beomgyu’s offer to take a small break and have something to eat and the two of you walked out of the dancefloor, heading to where the big buffet displayed for everyone to have a blast.

You were too caught on the deliciously looking sweets in front of you, debating on which to try first to even be able to notice the way Beomgyu tensed and froze on his place, head snapping to a side, sight sharpening as he felt something that shouldn’t be around.

“Listen Bambi, there is something I need to take care of, I will be right back, okay?” Beomgyu’s eyes didn’t see the curious look you gave him before walking away, disappearing from your sight.

You paid him no mind as you reassumed your arduous job of filling a little porcelain plate with sweets, the tip of your tongue in between your lips as you carefully picked one by one, your eyebrows frowning when you were about to pick up the last of a kind and it was suddenly grabbed by another hand. Looking up, you were met by an amused stare already on you, lips stretched into a silky smile and the sweet― your sweet being held in front of your eyes.

“Oh, I am so sorry, my lady, did you want this?” the man asked referring to the sweet, you nodded. “Would it be improper of me to suggest trading this sweet for a dance with my lady?”

You looked around trying to spot the figure of Beomgyu anywhere near, sighing in defeat as you saw him nowhere around and looking back at the man in front of you, waiting for a response. “… I don’t even know you.”

“How rude of me” the man kneeled in front of you and held his hand for you to grab it, which you hesitantly did, regretting it immediately as he placed his lips on your knuckles for a little too long. “I am prince Jaehyun from the Third Kingdom; may I know the name a princess such as yourself ports?”

Pulling your hand away and wiping it on the cloth of your dress with no dissimulation, you replied trying to control your facial expression as you stated your name.

“Such a beautiful name! Would my lady make me the honor of sharing a dance with me?”

“Sorry but she has promised me a dance.”

A large and strong back blocked your view completely; taking a few steps back involuntarily, you looked in surprise at the prince standing in front of you, his back towards you as he stood tall in front of the man whose eyes widened and smile fell from his face in a second, kneeling immediately at the sight of the crown prince.

“Your Highness crown prince Soobin” greeted the man, head low for a few long seconds until Soobin told him to stand up. “It’s an honor.”

“I am sure you wouldn’t mind if I take what’s mine now, won’t you?” stated the prince, bitter smile on his lips as he looked down at the man in front of his shaking his head quickly. Without even letting him speak another word, Soobin turned around on his heels, his smile widening once he connected eyes with you and he so charmingly held out his hand for you to take it. “May I have this dance?”

The plate in your hand shook slightly catching both of your attentions; Soobin took it from you and gently put it away, before scooping in his hand under yours and lead you back to the dancefloor. Well, shit if you thought you had received some looks when you and Beomgyu arrived it was nothing compared to the amount of stares now that Soobin was the one at your side and while you felt ever so tiny under so many judgmental eyes, Soobin seemed to shine even brighter, not paying any mind to the others and just carefully stopping in the middle of the ballroom, his hand gently grabbing your waist, his tender touch contrasting the intensity of his eyes on you.

“You look gorgeous” he told you as he began leading you at the rhythm of the music, his breath fanning over your face as he leaned closer. “Too gorgeous” he added, a bittersweetness in his voice that caught you a little off guard.

“Why do you look so mad?” you asked softly, squeezing his hand on yours and knitting your eyebrows in confusion. “Did something bad happen?”

“Everyone here wants you” he muttered under gritted teeth, nose wrinkling a little as he flicked his eyes around just for a second before they were back on you; Soobin pulled away a little and guided to you do a little spin, releasing the hold on your waist just for a second as you spun, catching you immediately back and pulling you closer to his chest, your cheeks burning as his tongue twirled over his lips and leaned closer to your ear. “But they can’t have what is mine, right?”

The low growl from the prince on your ear had your face flushing vivid red; his eyes lingered on your lips as they opened to try and say something, nothing coming out of it making him smirk; how bad did he want to kiss you right now in front of everyone else to make them understand that they shouldn’t even imagine putting a single finger on you or else.

But Soobin can’t do that there in the middle of everybody, in front of the King and Queen of the Kingdom whose eyes are fixated on the both of you, half intrigued half astonished; so instead the prince drags you out of the ballroom once the song finishes and guides you down the endless halls of the castle, pushing open a random door to an empty room and pushing you against the wood of it once it closed on your back.

Before you could react, his lips were over yours, moving in need and hunger, so desperately his tongue lapping on your parted lips before sneaking inside your mouth, groaning at the addicting taste of you; his hands that were first placed besides each side of your head now sliding up and down your body, grabbing and squeezing everything he can in his way, making you whine pathetically against him.

“Can’t stand it” he mumbled pulling away from your lips only to slid them down to your neck, his body pressing hard against yours as he kissed and bit and licked, his hands steadying on your hips and gripping them, making the silk of your dress slid up only a little from his roughness. “I hate that they think they can have you, ha! They should know better than that.”

You gasp when you feel one of his hands sliding down under your thigh to lift it up and wrap it around his waist, pushing up your dress even more; your hands moved up to clasp his hair in between your fingers, your head falling against the wood behind you. “You’re more possessive than I gave you credit for, bunny” the petname had the prince thrusting harsh against you, making you let out a soft whine while tugging at his roots.

“I can’t help it, y/n” he groaned as he slid down from your neck to your collarbone and inhaled sharply the scent of you that had his mind crazy before placing soft kisses down the invisible path to your chest, nibbling at your tits over your cloth. “Never had felt his before, never felt this fear of losing something from me” his eyes flicked up as he nibbled meaningly against one of your nipples, making you gasp yearning from more.

“You can’t lose me” you mumbled, looking mesmerized at the boy lapping yearningly your chest over your dress with his eyes fixated on yours; you felt the smirk forming on his lips at your words.

“Right? Because you are mine?” he questioned as he moved further down, placing a last kiss on your breasts before nibbling at your stomach, the sensation making your breath flinch. You hummed in agreement but that wasn’t enough for the prince. “Words, pretty, use your mouth.”

The leg that once was around his waist was now being moved by him over his shoulder as he got down on a knee, his nose moving down on your stomach till your pelvic bone, his eyebrows furrowing as the scent of you became stronger and got him drunk on you.

“Y-yeah” you muttered shakily as you felt his hot breath fanning over your entrance while his hands slid down under your dress and pulled it up; his eyes not moving an inch away from your reaction. “I’m yours, Soobin, all yours.”

The prince almost moaned at your words; licking his lips eagerly, he pulled the skirt of your dress over his head and slid under it, his fingers grabbing the cloth of your panties and pulling them down to your ankles. A loud moan came out of your lips when Soobin pressed down his mouth against your pussy, himself groaning out loud at the taste of your juices, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lapped against it like a dog, collecting everything he could on his tongue― so fucking sweet.

“Wa-wait Soobin- fuck, slow d-down” you whined breathlessly as you felt Soobin’s tongue working feverishly on you, trying to pull him away from your abused core by the hold on his hair; the prince huffed in annoyance at your intents and only sank further in you, growling a low no as he continued tongue-fucking you.

Soobin ate you out like he was some kind of starved man, groaning needily whenever your hips jolted against his face, his nose and chin drenched in you; he wasn’t going to fucking slow down, he wanted you to fall apart on his tongue, the mere thought of you cumming just by the muscle of his mouth numbing his mind and going feral underneath you. His devilish pace only worsened as he heard you getting louder announcing your climax; the prince groaned loudly as you pulled meanly from his hair while your hips rubbed against his face, your hot cum falling all over his mouth, dirty slurping sounds from underneath you reaching your ears as Soobin took over the job of licking you clean.

You breathed in and out deeply as you watched the prince appeared from under your skirt, after putting back on their place your panties, straightening the skirt of your dress and standing up, cupping your face in between his hands to connected his lips with yours, tasting yourself on his mouth, making you groan against him. His kisses became calmer and tender, thumbs caressing your cheeks before he pulled away, placing his forehead on yours.

“… Sorry” he mumbled a little ashamed but deep down satisfies with himself. You pecked his lips in response, making a soft smile appear on his pretty swollen lips. “So perfect.”

The both of you stood there a little longer catching your breath with a few kisses in between; you smiled softly as you help the prince tidy up his hair― the one you had been pulling and messing just minutes ago. Soobin let himself be tidy up by your gender touch, his eyes on you as you carefully straighten up his wrinkled clothes, his heart beating as loud as ever against his chest.

The intimacy of the moment, sadly, didn’t last too long. The loud knocks on the other side of the door got the two of you startled and, just in time as you stood back from it, the doors were flying open. Beomgyu panted loudly as he got inside the room, wild eyes fixated on you as he got closer.

“Beomgyu, what happened?” questioned Soobin, hugging your waist with his arm and pressing you closer to his chest. The mage ignored the act and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you away from the prince.

“You need to get out of here” he said hurriedly, ignoring the calls and demands of the prince on his back, his brown and tired eyes staring into yours.

“W-what?” you dumbly stumbled on your feet, grabbing his shirt for support as he continued to guide you to the doors. “Beomgyu, stop! What’s wrong?”

“Should have sent you back sooner but I just- I couldn’t. It’s my fault” he rambled as he guided to down the hall and out of the castle’s walls. Soobin followed closely behind; his words being completely ignored by the frantic mage. “I got too attached, too weak, too blind; he’s been here all along- fuck. I need to send you back, y/n.”

The realization fell upon you like a bucket of cold water. Beomgyu only stopped in his tracks when you reached the castle garden and, without wasting any more time, he fell to his knees and begun enchanting some words in a language you couldn’t decipher, that you hadn’t ever heard, not even during your magic lessons.

Soobin reached you in no time, stopping at your side and hugging you closer to him as he realized what was happening; Beomgyu’s aura became clearer and clearer to the eye and the air felt electrifying, making your skin get goosebumps all over.

“Tic tac, little princess.”

The familiar, disgusting, feeling of something slimy and wet touching your skin got you gasping in no second; the long and thick black tentacles were back and they snaked around your waist tightly, stealing the air out of you as they lifted up in the air. Your eyes met the half bored half amused blue eyes of the dark mage floating in the air, a tiny smile spreading on his lips as he drank up your expression.

“Long time no see, princess” he said, mockery in his voice. “Got the chance to spot you that fun day in town, we had so much fun, remember?”

“So, you were there!” you exclaimed, a shaky finger pointing accusatory to the man in front of you. “Are you some kind of stalker or something, man?” God, you hated it― you and your lousy mouth in the worst times.

Kai’s lips turned down. “I see that not even the castle’s discipline could win over you, uh? Guess you are one like me! Hehehe!” His loud, ear numbing laugh made you wince― not for so long before a loud growl came of his lips, his eyes going feral as he looked down to the floor.

Beomgyu was done with the enchanting― there was a large pitch-black hole on the floor. Now the mage was taking over the job of blasting away the annoying little tentacles of the dark mage with fire coming out of his hands, mumbling incoherences under his breath as his eyes were furrowed in annoyance.

“Such a pain in the ass, this one” you heard Kai saying to himself. “Say, little princess, should I just suck the life out of your body and have this over with?”

“Uh…” you blinked a few times at the question. “Well, I really would appreciate if you didn’t.”

“Boomer” Kai sighed and rolled his eyes before a mad smile spread on his face. “Good thing I get to decide things here. Why don’t I give you a fun ride while I take care of your little boyfriends down there?”

“They aren’t my boyfri-“ your words were cut off when so suddenly you were being lifted up in the air by the tentacle’s hold in your waist, reaching as high as they could in the sky; time froze as they suddenly stopped in mid-air for a second, you being able to spot the lights of the castles very far away from the ground before the tentacles were letting go of you.

There were little moments in your life where you had felt the real fear, horror, terror; for example, when you were very little, still very innocent in life and you were forced to abandoned your so precious childhood to face the real world before you, you parents were gone, you had no other relatives around or that you knew of, you were alone. Or, at first, that was what you thought before Granny and Yeonjun appeared to save you from your pitch-black hole.

There was also that time in high school days when Yeonjun had forced you to go with him to that new amusement park after school, which you thought was an incredible idea at first. You had blast, rode a lot of fun games and won against your best friend in those cute little stands of ‘knock out the pile of bottles and win a plushie!’. It was a great day until Yeonjun convinced you to ride on the first cart of the rollercoaster. Sometimes, if you recalled the memory in detail, you still could feel the pain in your throat from the intense screaming that came out of you and the way your heart fell from your stomach.

Since that day you started developing some kind of fear to heights.

And just like that day, a loud and painful scream came from the very back of your throat as you free-fell from God knows how many meters tall.

“Beomgyu!” screamed Soobin as his eyes were glued to the tiny figure falling from the sky, the loud scream from you erupting in the air making his heart stop.

The mage grunted as he rolled away from the sharp attack of the dark mage’s tentacles. Jumping and avoiding any kind of grip it could have on him, while trying to blast the damn thing with his magic. God, how he hated those things― they were ugly, they were gross and they were a pain in the ass.

From the corner of his eyes, he caught the sight of you falling at incredible speed from the sky. Kai giggled loudly as he tried to use the little distraction of you to caught his enemy, but Beomgyu knew the other man well― too well for his own good, and as the dark mage tried to strike another deadly hit on Beomgyu, he was quick to stop it and blast the tentacle away, teleporting immediately to the back of Kai, striking a hard hit on the back of his head while kicking his legs, making him fall to the ground.

Beomgyu’s eyes flicked to the sky once more and waisted no time before teleporting himself to you, in the middle of the air, wincing at the sharpness of your panicked scream before tangling his arms around your body, trying to shush you and calm you down which was fairly quite difficult. As soon as you were firmly in his arms, Beomgyu teleported you both to the ground, a few feet away from the intimidatingly big and black hole he had opened for you.

Once the arms around you pulled away, you fell on your knees, hands pressing against the ground as you took deep and shaky breaths. Beomgyu went back to the dark mage that was rushing towards the both of you, trying to get him away from you as much as possible, screaming something over the loud noise of blasting magic for you that didn’t reach your ears.

“Get her out of here!”

Soobin rushed towards you, helping you get up and forcing you to take some steps; you following blindly, only snapping out of the shock when half of your feet were hanging from the portal on the ground. You tried to jump away, but Soobin got you on your place tightly. Wincing, you turned your head to him, eyes filled with tears and lips trembling as you tried to plead for him to not let go of you.

The prince reprimed his urge to cry, at least in front of you, as his hands squeezed the sight of your arms; his breath shaking as he inhaled deeply to say the next words: “You need to leave.”

“No.” “Yes, it’s not safe for here anymore.” “Soobin, I can’t-“

The prince whined in agony as he forced you to turn around, the shouting of Beomgyu behind him telling him to hurry, yet his hands moved up to your face and crashed his lips against yours messily, drinking in the soft cries of you as you reciprocated, feeling his face wet either from your tears or his, he didn’t know. Pressing his forehead against yours, he planted a last, soft and tender kiss on your lips before whispering against them I love you.

And then you were pushed into the black hole in your back, your hands trying to grasp the hold of the prince, screaming in panic as the nothingness consumed you.

“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?” Yeonjun knocked softly on your door before pushing it open with his shoulder, tray with food on his hand and a soft yet worried smile on his face. You smiled back and sat down on your bed, looking down at the plate of ramen he brought, probably made by Granny out there in the kitchen, thanking him for it.

It had been barely a week since you came back, yet it felt like years. Since you were able to reach Yeonjun, he and Granny had decided to move in with you in your previous complex, the ceiling already fixed. Neither of them had left your side since then, taking care of you with meals made with love, hugs, shoulders to cry onto and a lot of patience as they listen to you when you needed to let go of everything― the last one being mostly Yeonjun, who knew the truth to it all.

“Did you get some sleep?” he asked softly as you eat the steaming noodles, reaching out his hand to caress your head tenderly.

“Barely” you replied, sighing. “Still got a lot of nightmares.” Yeonjun eyebrows knitted in worry. “But I’ll get over it with time, I guess.” I hope is that you truly wanted to say, but for the sake of your friend’s worry you decided to keep it in.

“Of course,” he agreed, tucking the little strands of hair behind your ear. “What do you say if we go out today? Maybe a walk will be good to clear your mind. You can get a shower and I’ll pick up some real nice clothes for you, mh?”

If you had to be honest, you didn’t want to get out. You didn’t even want to get up from your bed, but you knew Yeonjun was trying to help you the best he could, so you agreed to it and thanked him when he took the tray with the empty bowl from you back to the kitchen, leaving you alone to get into the shower.

Spring arrived and everything around you bloomed, beautiful flowers and the trees porting themselves beautifully as you and Yeonjun walked down the streets, eating the ice creams he had bought for the both of you, him talking about things that didn’t really reach you. Point for him, taking in some fresh air did help you feel a little lighter, but your mind― that was something you couldn’t shut down.

“… And so, me and Taehyun are the only ones who made it into the contest” Yeonjun smiled, finishing his story and looking down at you, only realizing you were somewhere else, your eyes glued to the flowers blooming from the trees over your heads, your eyes lost in thoughts. He sighed and finished his ice cream quickly, hiding the pout on his lips even thought you weren’t going to notice it either way.

Shyly, he pulled from the sleeve on your shirt, catching your attention, and pointed back to the convenience store standing on his back. “I need to get some things for Gran real quick, you wanna come or you prefer to wait here?” You opted for the second one, pointing to an empty bench a few feet away. “Okay baby, be right back.”

You watched silently, from the seat on your bench, to the world around you. Spring brought more color to the city surrounding you, people seemed livelier, laughing and spending their times with their loved ones. And you were supposed to be like them, but your heart ached whenever it was awake― the reminiscence of the prince flooding your mind, his last words, his last kiss.

You forced yourself to snap out of it again, shaking your head and inhaling deeply, trying to lose the knot in your throat. You needed to get over it, over him but, was that what you really wanted? To forget everything? To forget Soobin?

“Hello there” you had been so caught up in your thoughts, so buried in your mind, that you had failed to notice the person taking the seat next to you, so when they suddenly spoke and got you out of your head, you were startled.

More startled you were when your eyes met a pair of unforgivable ones, already staring into yours nervously, his familiar lips stretching into a shy smile. You blinked one, two, three times, as if you were hoping the image to fade away like it was some kind of hallucination, but it didn’t.

Your lips trembled and you sobbed audible, not even having the force to try and suppress it, making the man in front of you flinch in surprise. Soobin leaned in and cupped your face, quickly wiping away the running tears down your face, his eyebrows knitting in worry as he scanned your painful expression.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, pulling you to his chest and hugging you, warm covering your body as you continued to cry on his shoulder, his hands caressing your back, his own voice faltering as he spoke. “I’m sorry, I missed you, I’m here, I love you.”

I’m sorry, I missed you, I’m here, I love you.

552 notes · View notes

forlix · 1 year ago

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative

warnings・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack, alcohol is consumed, lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication, complex people feeling complex emotions, smut warnings under the cut

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

smut warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?”

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path.

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.”

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there.

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.”

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour.

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

“Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?”

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall.

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze.

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter.

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds.

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session.

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete.

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person.

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe.

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels.

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you.

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand.

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system.

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod.

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?”

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane.

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

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