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lemineso · 1 year ago

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Oils and Incense [Masseur AU]

FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC) X male reader

Following your friend's suggestion, you went to a health & beauty spa, specifically for a massage and you're surprised to find a fellow student working there as a part-timer. What's that smell and why do you feel so hot? This was the wrong room? Your body won't be the only thing getting oiled up!

dubcon af, rough sex, aphrodisiac on both ends, shady reader(?), sousuke munching, profile

Find out more under the cut!

"All the rooms are full?"

The clerk standing at the register nodded with a polite smile on her face. (m/n) frowned, feeling the ache on his shoulder weighing on his figure.

It had been a harsh week for the (h/c), catching up on his assignments, managing his club activities and after sleeping on his desk for a week straight, his muscles were tense and in pain.

His friend, Daisuke, had suggested this place, a high-end beauty spa and of course it was expensive that motherfucker was loaded. But you decided to treat yourself, as a reward for getting through the semester and you drove over to the place after your classes.

Unfortunately for him, all the rooms are filled and busy.

"Well, we do have a private room available. Although it is usually booked in advance for regulars, I can make an exception for you." She winked at him, feeling sorry seeing the (h/c)'s tired expression. "I'll take it."

"And what kind of package would you like?"

(m/n) didn't bother reading the whole brochure, only skimming through the numbers. "Two hours, please."

The lady escorted her to the room, opening the door inside and (m/n) awed at the interior, fluffy flooring, multiple candles on mahogany cupboards with decorations to make the room more presentable with gold and green highlights with a warm lighting to compliment the whole design.

A massage table stood in the middle, layered with a white covered mattress and a hole for the face in the head area. "The rooms are designed for your privacy and comfort, thick walls and we provide a change of clothing afterwards. Your assigned masseur will be here soon." He thanked the lady and placed his bag on one of the lush seats.

(m/n) stood in the room idly, peering at the ceramic dishes and balls before hearing a conversation outside.

"Make sure you take the right incense and oils, okay. He's not one of the usual clientage." The woman from before seem to be speaking to someone. The masseur perhaps.

"Yeah yeah, I know." The voice replied with a drag, implying annoyance followed by a smack.

The door opened and (m/n) turned to see a familliar person, holding a basket of bottles and taper candles. Said person, with his long red hair in a claw clip with strands sticking to his forehead, froze seeing the (h/c). He had adorned the usual white piece, what masseurs would usually wear.

"You..." He seemed to be taken aback, although his face doesn't show much, (m/n) could definitely tell he knew him and vice versa as well. "...We go to the same university, right? Keio Shiki?' (m/n) broke the awkward silence with a nervous grin.

The redhead seemed to snap back out of his trance as he coughed into his fist and moved to one of the cupboards, setting up the session, placing the taper candles in its holders. "Yeah, we do." He replied dismissively.

"We shared a class once, too. Aito? Was that your name-?" "It's Sousuke. Just Sousuke." (m/n) tensed, nodding quickly as he rubbed his nape.

(m/n) had seen Sousuke around campus before, always alone and keeping to himself with his muted red hair that had always caught his attention. When they shared a class together, the (h/c) had attempted to converse with the redhead but was ignored or only received half-assed answers.

He only knew snippets about the redhead from his peers, who told him to stay away from the man, saying that he brought trouble everywhere he goes. However, (m/n) thought of otherwise.

"So you work here? I thought your dad runs a dōjō." It's not everyday you get to talk to the brooding guy in your prestige university, especially when he's supposed to service you. (e/c) eyes gazed at him with a smirk, teasing the redhead whose hazel ones squinted at him.

"...It's temporary. Until that old man gets off my back." He mumbled, lighting one of the candles with a long nozzle lighter, clicking it a few times. The (h/c)'s eyes still wandered, lingering on his muscular back the white uniform couldn't hide. "Do you remember me? You looked shocked when you first walked in here-"

(m/n)'s words were cut off as Sousuke promptly pressed a white fluffy cloth to his chest. "I do. (l/n)." The redhead emphasized, pushing the article on his chest with pressure. There's a hint of annoyance but (m/n) can see the tip of his ears turning red.

"You can call me (m/n)." His lips stretched a smile, cheekily looking up at the redhead through his lashes.

Sousuke stared for a second before turning away. "Change."

The (h/c) held the cloth Sousuke had given to him, it was literally just a white fabric meant to tie around his waist. "Just this-?" "Yes." Sousuke huffed as he turned back to the (h/c), his fingers snapping a pair of black latex gloves on his hands. "In other words, strip."

"Will do." (m/n) whistled, pulling his clothes off.

The redhead rolled his eyes, rummaging through the cupboards as the (h/c) had his fun teasing the former.

Sousuke did not expect the (h/c) as his customer for the evening. His father had sent him here for work since he had broken three sandbags at the dōjō, apparently his old man's friend owned the place and needed a pair of strong hands to cover a few shifts. Unluckily, Sousuke had been taking a degree in physical education so he was more or less qualified to work here.

However, the clerk suddenly called him on his break, saying that there was a fill-in in one of the private rooms, he was never allowed to step in there by the way, and the woman told him that there was someone looked like around his age while lecturing him about grabbing the right bottles or whatnot.

Sousuke had mindlessly grabbed the basket for the private rooms, there can't be much difference there can it? Probably just the brand itself or whatever.

Fuck, why is he here? Sousuke grumbled silently. He had known the (h/c), (m/n) (l/n) who had caught his eye ever since he walked on campus. His stupid cute smile, really nice build and those fucking thighs-

He snapped himself out of his thoughts hearing shuffles of clothing behind him as he lit the incense and waving the smoke around, letting it dissipate. Something smelled weird. He's dealt with incense before but this one smells more honey?

"I'm done."

The redhead had to stop himself from looking too much as he ushered the (h/c) to lay stomach down on the massage table.

(m/n) pouted, seeing the redhead was quick to place him down as he straddled the massage table, putting his head in its place and his face facing the floor through the hole.

Sousuke helped him place his legs on the rest of the table, his large gloved hands pulling his calves up before setting it down, avoiding looking at the (s/c) presented before him.

The (h/c) felt like he was purring in bliss. "It smells...sweet?" "It's the candle. Nothing much." Sousuke reassured (m/n) and himself, he had never used this specific candle before.

Taking a bowl of warm water, he placed three different sizes of ceramic balls or spheres, letting it sit in the liquid while the (h/c) attempted to start a conversation with him. "How've you've been? Anything interesting coming up?" "None of your concern." (m/n) scrunched his nose at the immediate rejection.

Was the room supposed to be this hot?

He felt warmer than usual, the blood rushing to the lower part of his body. (m/n) continued staring at the carpeted floor beneath him, talking to the redhead. "My team is having a practice match next week. With a university in the next town over."

Tilting the glass bottle, Sousuke dripped the oil in his gloved hands before rubbing them together, warming it up. "So?" "Will you come watch?" He huffed. "For what?"

"For me." There's a hint of flirt and Sousuke had to take a breather before nearing the laying (h/c), avoiding looking at his (s/c) legs. "I'll start now." "What-?"

(m/n) bit his tongue to prevent a moan from escaping his lips when warm gloved hands pressed on in between his shoulders. Fingers moving around, testing the waters as Sousuke gently spread the oil on his back like slicing butter on a piece of bread.

When the redhead felt the skin beneath him less tense, he slowly pressed his fingers deeper, kneading the muscle beneath him, rubbing his thumb in the notches and crooks of his shoulder blades.

Then he moved upwards, trailing his hand and poured more oil directly on (m/n)'s shoulders, letting it stain the cushioned table and he dipped his fingers in the skin between his neck and his shoulder, inching closer to his chest as he massaged his clavicle.

Sousuke was wondering why was the chatterbox underneath him was quiet. Usually customers would let out a satisfied groan every now and then. Maybe it was better for the redhead himself, not having to answer to the (h/c)'s incessant questions.

Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, sliding down the tip of his nose. (m/n) was holding in his breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when Sousuke's fingers massaged his nape, pressing his knuckles on the base of his neck, letting the pressure subside when he reached his hairline.

He had been holding in gasps and groans from his throat, feeling so pleasured with the service he's receiving. He felt more fired up than usual. (m/n) almost released a whine when Sousuke pulled his hands away, walking over to the front of him, where the bowl of water was and (m/n) stared at his legs, licking his lips.

"...Everything okay down there?"

Yeah I want you down here- "All's good." (m/n) felt his cheeks flushed, trying to focus back but his mind was foggy, all fuzzy and warm, he couldn't keep his head straight only thinking about those nice thick gloved fingers touching his skin.

Sousuke carefully picked up the smallest ball, placing it in the middle of (m/n)'s back, the latter letting out a noise of confusion. "It's a new thing they brought in. Constant pressure isn't good but the warmth helps and we've been receiving positive feedback..." The redhead muttered, stabilizing the sphere.

"Is it okay for you?"

(m/n) nodded drowsily. "Yeah, yeah. Anything's good from you." Sousuke's mouth gaped from the comment before looking away, grabbing the second ball while ignoring the butterflies raging wildly in his stomach.

"Don't move." He mumbled, balancing the second ball on his upper shoulders, near his nape. He rolled it around, using it as a tool before letting it rest on (m/n)'s body. Sousuke was unaware of the drooling (h/c) who was resisting the urge to utter the most sinful things human beings have ever heard.

The redhead paused, his steps stopping as he gazed at the taper candle, his eyes brimming suspicion before (m/n)'s voice brought him back to reality.

"Hurry up." He whined. Sousuke gritted his teeth, his cheeks warming at the cute noise the other had mewled out. "Be patient." (m/n) grinned. "Don't think you're supposed to talk back to your customers."

He heard the redhead sighed, his legs coming into his line of sight and Sousuke's face suddenly appeared close to his. "And I don't think you should be acting like a brat but here we are. Be quiet...and let me do my job." Hazel eyes stared up at him, his position crouching on the floor near the massage table.

(m/n) was silent, taken aback by the sudden proximity of his handsome face. He definitely got hard. "... Yes, sir." Sousuke groaned in annoyance, immediately standing back up, secretly adjusting his pants.

Immediately, he retrieved the third sphere, letting them all line up on (m/n)'s lower back, the latter letting out a guttural groan at the pressure. Hazel eyes leered at the (s/c) legs on display, sighing lowly as he poured another batch of oil on his gloved hands.

Steadily, he placed his hands on the (h/c)'s thighs, near the cloth and he dragged his palms down, pulling the muscle and knots all the way down to the ankle. Heat was looming all around his crotch as he massaged (m/n)'s foot, rubbing his fingers in between the appendages.

"You're like...mmn- really good at this."

Sousuke heard the drowsy comment from the mouth at the other end. "I work here. It's my job." "Wasn't it temporary?" "As I've told." "Wish it wasn't. I'd come for you everyday."

(m/n) was slurring his words, his cheeks flushed, his dick hard and sweat was dripping from his face to his nose. Fingers massaging him all over, caressing his thigh, pushing his skin and god he wished those fingers were in him.

Just fuck me- The (h/c) grinned to himself, not noticing the reddened masseur who pulled away, grabbing the spheres as well, eager to end the session already.

"Sit up. We'll work on your front next." "...My front?" "Yes. Is there a problem?" Sousuke went to grab a pillow to fill the hole in the head area so (m/n) could lie down on it but when he turned around, the (h/c) was on his side, his face looked embarrassed and he looked away when Sousuke's eyes travelled down to (m/n)'s crotch.

"...It's normal." The (h/c) frowned, mad that Sousuke isn't getting the hint. What the hell? Is it normal for customers to get hard after you massage them or what? (e/c) eyes glared at Sousuke, who was panicking in his head.

"And if I say it's intentional?" "I won't believe you."

He couldn't deny his slight attraction to the (h/c) and what the fuck why does he feel so hot right now? Sousuke staggered when the loop of his pants was tugged.

"Is it normal for you to get hard too?" (m/n) whispered into his ear, huffing his warm breath into the shell of Sousuke's ears that flushed at the contact.

The redhead looked down and he was indeed hard. Had he not noticed the whole time? Sousuke pulled away, facing the cheeky (h/c) who was kneeling on the table, the cloth around his waist barely hiding his erection and an amused expression on his face.

"Stop that." "You don't hate me." "I can." "I don't think you will."

What? Sousuke pressed his lips into a thin line, his head dizzy. (m/n) was so lax around him, closing the gap he had with others, toying with his boundaries like he was edging the redhead, wanting to draw a reaction out of him.

It's the same when they had first met too, when they shared a class. To (m/n), it was normal but to Sousuke, it was thrilling and confusing.

He was melting under the (h/c)'s gaze, his lips quivering and he felt his eyes water. "Are you flirting with me?" (m/n) purred. "Maybe." He winked and held out his hand.

The redhead swatted it away. He can feel his sweat building up on the collar of his uniform. (m/n) looked like a meal in front of him but he couldn't, his heart conflicted.

"Don't...play about these things. Don't toy with me." Sousuke stated, him placing down the pillow, covering the hole in the massage table, (e/c) eyes following him. "....I'm not."

Sousuke clenched his jaw, his neck tense as he felt fingers inching on his nape, tugging his claw clip. He yelped, his hair now loose, red strands laying on his back as the redhead glared at the (h/c).

(m/n) clipped the hair accessory onto his own tresses. "You should kick me out. I'm harassing you and all, aren't I?" The redhead stared at the now sitting (h/c) who swung his feet back and forth. He glanced at his hair clip on the (h/c)'s head.

"I ought to." "...You're hot, Sousuke." A cough escaped his lips, exasperated at the sudden confession. The redhead scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. (m/n) gleamed at him, glancing at the taper candles behind him.

"If you wanted to have sex with me, all you had to do was ask." "What?"

"You think I don't see that?" (m/n) jutted his chin to the candle holder behind Sousuke, the one he had lit up earlier. "Lucky Clover. Common choice but it does its job."

Sousuke snatched the candle out of the holder, blowing out the flame, his eyes scanning the brand name edged on the side of the candle. He had grabbed the wrong basket. "I didn-"

"Haa...now I'm all hot and bothered. It's not fair you're not as affected as I am." "I took the wrong candle. I didn't mean to-" "Whatever was your intention, it doesn't matter." (m/n) rested his chin on his palm, his body was coated with sweat, his back smooth with the oils Sousuke had rubbed in earlier.

"I have at least an hour and a half left. Now come here and do your job, masseur."

Something snapped inside the redhead at that moment, something raw and viscous. His feet slowly moved to the (h/c), settling behind him and grabbing a bottle of oil.

Sousuke should have never denied the attraction he had for the (h/c). His words that jumbled his thoughts, his eyes that made his legs quiver, his tongue that flicked against his teeth that made the redhead desire to grab his neck so he can-

(m/n) leaned his back against Sousuke's chest with a satisfied sigh, smudging the redhead's white uniform. Biting his lower lip, he grinned while staring at across the room. Sousuke was something (m/n) had wanted to solve, it wasn't a priority, but with the massages and the oils, it was like a candlelit dinner for him.

The claw clip was pulled from his hair, Sousuke swiping (m/n)'s hair back and clipped it in properly, (m/n) rubbed his cheek on the redhead's hand, the latter not responding and the (h/c) heard him picking up a glass bottle.

Slippery liquid trickled down his chest, Sousuke tilting the whole bottle on (m/n)'s torso letting it trickle down onto the (h/c)'s crotch. He placed the bottle aside, cracking his fingers. The redhead placed his arms underneath (m/n)'s own, looming his hands over his body before placing it flat against the (h/c)'s chest.

(m/n) gasped when Sousuke cupped his pecs, rubbing his nipples in between his fingers. "Mmnn!" He mewled as the redhead continued his work, massaging his man tit, rubbing his hands up and down as (m/n) gripped Sousuke's arms.

He squirmed when Sousuke's movements became rougher, squeezing his chest and essentially groping him. The redhead's right hand trailed down and rubbed the oil all over his stomach, kneading it into his side.

(m/n) was wrong when he had stated that the redhead was not affected as he is. The redhead had only not noticed. His will is strong, not something that is easily swayed by a mere candle.

Sousuke had bear flirts, jabs, and allure from the (h/c). He's a man. He has sensual passion. Although the redhead simply locked his aptitude to bite back deep inside himself. However, (m/n) was brave. Almost like he was aware Sousuke would let him trample all over him.

Hovering his tongue over the (h/c)'s shoulder, he licked a stripe experimentally. (m/n) flinched, his head turning to the side, looking with his glossy (e/c) eyes. He was panting disheveledly, Sousuke's hand still playing with his chest, gripping the fat and pinching his nipple.

The redhead leaned in closer, his face close with (m/n)'s and their breaths mixed. (m/n) was staring at the masseur's mouth, gazing over his lips and the redhead was looking for any sign of desire in his eyes until (e/c) met hazel.

There was only pure unholy lust. Sousuke pushed his mouth towards (m/n)'s awaiting lips. The latter moaning as they mushed their tongues together, exchanging drool and (m/n) was so excited as he sucked on the redhead's muscly organ.

"Aanh haa ah ah!"

Sousuke's right hand went lower, cupping (m/n)'s erection as he squeezed it lightly. The (h/c) bit his lower lip in response, the redhead gasping as (m/n) stuck his tongue inside Sousuke's mouth.

Tearing the fabric at (m/n)'s waist off, Sousuke grabbed (m/n)'s cock, pumping it up and down, earning whines from the (h/c). It was so slippery, so easy to move with the oil coating (m/n)'s skin and Sousuke gave no mercy to the (h/c) whose hips started to stutter in his hold.

(m/n) bucked his hips, loving the attention his cock was receiving as he pulled away from the makeout session. "I-I'm close- nggh ahh ang ahh!"

Ropes of cum spurted from his tip as Sousuke gripped his base, dragging out (m/n)'s orgasm. His hazel eyes had a fire in them, one (m/n) had ever since Sousuke laid his hands on him.

Drool seeped from his lips, (m/n) was in a daze as Sousuke laid his body on the massage table, letting him lie stomach down. He shivered when he felt the redhead pour more oil on his bottom, the liquid dripping on his ass, seeping and touching his twitching hole.

"You wanted this." Sousuke grunted, pulling off of his sticky uniform, revealing his sexy sweaty torso. His hand rubbed one of the (h/c)'s asscheeks before bringing it up and slapping it. The (h/c) yelped at the contact and Sousuke spanked him again, rubbing the oil on the cheek before swinging his gloved hand back down.

"Ah! F-Fucking- ah!" (m/n) screamed, feeling his cock twitch every time Sousuke smacked his ass. His hips stuttered he felt the redhead gripped and spread his ass, revealing his perky hole, Sousuke dipping his covered thumb in experimentally and scratched his rim.

Whining endlessly, (m/n) flinched as Sousuke spat on his hole, feeling the cold liquid trickle down. The redhead pulled his hips up, (m/n) hugging the pillow for stability, his nails digging into the fabric and pushing his face into the pillow.

Sousuke laid his tongue flat against (m/n)'s balls, licking up until he reached the wet entrance and he pushed a finger in, hearing a squeal from the (h/c). Digging inside, he shoved another gloved finger in to spread the hole with a scissoring motion. The (h/c) could only emit muffled cries, staining the pillow with his saliva.

The redhead licked his hole, a flinch from (m/n), and he pushed his tongue inside, brushing his fangs against (m/n)'s rim. He kissed, licked and spat on the twitching entrance, taking his time and ignoring the begging (h/c).

"P-Please- mmn ahh! I-I'm sorry- ungg mmn!"

Sousuke didn't want an apology from the (h/c). All he cared about was the ass in his hand he was eating right now. The redhead sucked on (m/n)'s balls while pistoning his fingers in and out of the (h/c)'s puckered hole.

He stopped when a hand grabbed his arm, Sousuke glaring down at the crying (h/c) whose back was facing him. "T-Too much. I'm s-sorry- mmn!" (m/n) cried, his tears and drool wetting the pillow under him.

"...Then what do you want?" Sousuke asked nonchalantly as he released (m/n)'s hips, letting him drop onto the table. (m/n)'s lower half was trembling.

"I w-wanna suck you off..." "Is this your apology?" (m/n) shook his head. "I want your c-cock in my throat." He mumbled.

Sousuke stared at him, (m/n) tried to calm down his nerves but his entire body was so hot, the oil covering almost every inch of his skin. "Get on the floor." He heard the redhead ordered.

Shakily, (m/n) pushed himself off of the table, landing on the floor on his knees with a pitiful whine. He turned to the unimpressed redhead who stood, his back leaning against the massage table, his flowing red hair framing his gorgeous face.

"I don't understand you, (m/n)." Sousuke mumbled, grabbing his jaw when the (h/c) inched closer to his crotch while on his knees, his (s/c) glistening under the warm spotlight.

Caressing the (h/c)'s inner thigh with his shoe, Sousuke gazed at his dripping dick, raising his line of sight to (m/n)'s panting flushed face. "You don't have to..." The (h/c) closed his eyes, enduring the tightening still gloved grip Sousuke had on his face.

"You're so...confusing. Pushing my buttons, testing my limits. I'm a man, (l/n)." (m/n) nodded drunkenly. "Handsome man..." He slurred and Sousuke rolled his eyes at that and extended his hand into (m/n)'s face who pulled off the drenched latex gloves with his teeth.

"I can't believe you're into this shit." The redhead raised his bare hand, slapping (m/n)'s face, not too hard but enough to leave a red mark. "You like this? You like getting slapped?"

Sousuke smacked the (h/c) again, who only cried out wantonly, his body leaning closer to the redhead's. "Does your friend know? That you're a fucking freak." (m/n) shook his head, tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm supposed to be special then?" (m/n) couldn't even talk properly, getting slapped for the third time. He only slobbered, his eyes peering up at Sousuke's hazel ones. "I-It hurts..." He whined.

The redhead released his tight hold, carressing (m/n)'s cheek. "Went too far, huh? Least' I know your limit now." He gently stroked the (h/c)'s reddened cheek fondly, as if its a way for him to say sorry. (m/n) purring into his touch.

Extending his hand, (m/n) tugged Sousuke's pants, sticking his tongue out eager to suck his cock. The redhead scoffed, his face expressing amusement. "You're cute, y'know?" The (h/c) pawed at the redhead's zipper, pulling it down and shuffling his pants off.

Sousuke pushed his briefs down, his hardened cock springing out and (m/n)'s eyes brightened, his tongue drooling and he whined even more, leaning closer into the redhead. Sousuke cooed, running his fingers through the (h/c)'s hair and he pulled the hair clip off, placing it on his own head.

(m/n) placed his tongue under Sousuke's tip, sliding it gently as he licked the base, caressing the veins. The redhead groaned, bucking his hips and accidentally gripped the (h/c)'s hair. Moving his head forward, the (h/c) took the long cock in his mouth, slobbering his spit all over the shaft.

It was a wonder how their dynamic switched. When (m/n) had first walked in, he was so adamant at poking at the redhead, now he was the one on his knees, sucking Sousuke's cock so desperately.

His cheeks hollowed as he hummed, (m/n)'s palate being grazed and the tip touching the back of his throat. He choked and coughed, Sousuke wanting to pull back but (m/n) grabbed his hips and shoved his own face into the redhead's crotch, his chin touching his balls.

"Anngg- mmff!" Sousuke held onto the table, his fingers clenching on the cushion as he closed his eyes, hot pleasure focusing on his dick and the (h/c). Cum shot from his tip and he was ready to pull out but (m/n)'s nails dug into his hips as he hissed in pain. Sousuke pulled his other glove off with his fangs.

The (h/c) sucked everything he could muster out of the redhead, letting the semen pool on his tongue as he shakily stood up and grabbed Sousuke's face, pushing his tongue in so the redhead could have a taste of himself.

Sousuke choked and gagged as the (h/c) shoved his tongue into his mouth as they stumbled, the redhead's arms around (m/n)'s waist and the latter around his neck. They planted themselves back onto the massage table, (m/n)'s back lying on the stained cushion and he spread his legs.

"Put it in." He breathed out, staring at hazel eyes who gazed back at (e/c), their sweaty foreheads touching each other. Sousuke took a breather and he adjusted himself, pumping his cock and lining it up against (m/n)'s hole.

"Just a second." The redhead spoke, he leaned forward, (m/n) stupidly clinging onto his body and rubbing his cheek against his face as Sousuke grabbed a decanter, biting the cork off and spitting it on the floor. The (h/c) rubbed his dick against the redhead's abs, letting his precum smear all over the rockhard muscles.

Sousuke pushed (m/n) to make room, tilting the decanter and pouring oil onto the (h/c)'s thighs, the liquid dripping down onto his ass and the redhead used his fingers to push it into (m/n)'s throbbing hole.

He also spilled the oil onto his own body, letting it drip from his chest and onto his dick, (m/n) now thrusting his hips to get the redhead's attention. "I know, I know." He mumbled, brushing his lips over (m/n)'s forehead.

Carefully, he held the (h/c)'s waist, adjusting both of them and he pushed in, the slippery oil letting him thrust all of his cock in one go. (m/n) let out a satisfied mewl, his thighs shaking as Sousuke pulled his cock out until only the tip nestled inside the twitching anus.

"Aannh ann ah ah ha ahh!" (m/n) wailed as the redhead began to pound himself with wet sloppy noises emitting around the room. Their squelching was so loud, the oil making their skin soft and wet as it smacked together.

Sousuke licked the (h/c)'s ear, his fangs biting the shell as the (h/c) spread his legs even wider, letting his ankles dangle in the air and the redhead slapped his inner thigh. "God you should've came here earlier." Sousuke groaned into (m/n)'s ear who nodded ferverently.

"Fuck fuck fuck." The (h/c) cussed with a moan , every time the redhead's cock kissed his prostate, his shaft dragging against his walls. Sousuke poured more oil on his base, as he pushed (m/n) down on the table, humping and fucking his meaty cock into his drenched ass.

The candle's waft still lingered in the air, although not as intense as earlier but (m/n) wished that it would last longer. His untouched cock was flicked by the redhead's fingers and (m/n) came, cum shooting out of his stimulated penis and it landed on both of their chests.

Sousuke wanted to kiss the (h/c), however he opted to graze his neck and sucked on the skin there instead, leaving hickies and marks. His hips stuttered as he shallowly thrusted into (m/n)'s bottom, his orgasm arriving and reaching its peak and (m/n) locked his ankles around the redhead, forcing him to still and cum inside his ass, filling his hole with his white batter.

(m/n) pulled Sousuke by his hair away from his neck and crashed his lips onto his and their teeths clashed. There were biting and saliva dripping from their chins, the (h/c) pushing his hips, indicating his want for a second round.

Sousuke climbed onto the massage table, asking (m/n) to kneel like him and he positioned himself behind the (h/c). He rammed himself inside (m/n) who arched his back and started to bounce himself on Sousuke's lap in time with his thrusts.

The redhead hands sneakily cupped (m/n)'s chest, groping his pecs and rubbing the skin. (m/n) whimpered when Sousuke scratched his nipple with his nails, pinching and twisting it as he continued slamming himself in and out the (h/c)'s throbbing hole, his previous cum spilling and dripping out of (m/n)'s rim.

(m/n) turned his face to the side, his (e/c) eyes begging Sousuke for a kiss as he stuck his tongue out. The redhead obliged licking (m/n)'s lips and kissing him again, them sloppily making out for the nth time already. The table shook with each thrust, shockingly still able to support the two.

Sousuke came inside the (h/c) again while (m/n) was pushing his ass back desperately for his own orgasm, the redhead gritting his teeth as (m/n) prolonged his climax by using his cock like a joystick.

Both of them lost any sense they had as they succumbed to their arousal, having sex on the table as much as they could. (m/n) was having the time of his life getting slapped, used like a fleshlight, begging Sousuke to fold him into many position and the redhead indulged in his cries, pushing him up against the cupboard, forcing him to ride his cock and they only stopped when the clerk had came back, knocking on the door while Sousuke was pushing (m/n) into a mating press.

"Is everything alright in there? Aito, the session is supposed to be over."

The redhead grunted out a half-assed response as he covered (m/n)'s mouth and quickly fucked himself inside the (h/c) making them both cum. (m/n)'s body was sweaty and slippery, his skin covered in oils and bite marks, his neck filled with hickies and his ass was dripping spit and cum.

Sousuke pulled the (h/c), pushing him and himself into the small shower station they had and quickly washed themselves clean, (m/n) begging the redhead for one last round and he unceremoniously followed through, making the (h/c) cum on his cock under the pouring shower head.

The redhead forced (m/n) to help him clean, changing the cushions, wiping the floor, throwing away the candle tapers so the clerk won't lecture him for using the wrong ones. Sousuke checked everything, making sure he didn't leave any evidence behind as he changed the drowsy (h/c) into a simple clothing the spa provided for customers.

He packed (m/n)'s clothes and his dirty uniform into a paper bag, clocking himself out of his shift as he left the spa hurriedly with the (h/c) hugging him fondly. Sousuke made sure to drive (m/n) back to his dorm with the latter's car, not trusting him to arrive safely as the (h/c) immediately passed out in the passenger's seat.

"(m/n), someone's looking for you." His classmate called him, the (h/c) lifting his head from the table he was sitting in. The class had just ended and (m/n) wanted to stay behind to finish his notes before his classmate yelled for him.

It had been three days since the whole massage thing and he couldn't find the redhead, not even at the spa. Hilarious to think that (m/n) actually went back searching for him but the clerk informed him that Sousuke asked for a few days off, him claiming that he had exams to study for and the (h/c) frowned, knowing that the redhead was avoiding him.

Understandably he was taken aback when he was met with the sight of the abashed redhead, who was standing with his hair still clipped in that purple accessory, his shoulder bag on his side.

"I thought we should go on a date. After that whole y'know." Sousuke handed him a singular sunflower, its stem jagged and (m/n) could tell that he didn't bought this at the florist.

(m/n) caressed the petals as he laughed. "Now which poor gardener did you stole from?" The redhead jabbed his finger behind him, the window showing the university's prestige courtyard with many beautiful flowers blooming, people won't notice one going missing.

"How sweet." The (h/c) smiled and Sousuke looked away, his ears reddened. "Let me grab my bag first. Where are we going?" "Eat. You need some meat if you want to win that practice match."

(m/n)'s heart fluttered, Sousuke remembered the practice match he had mentioned and he took it as a sign of him attending it for him as he hurriedly retrieve his books, shoving it in his bag as he skipped to the redhead.

"Told you I wasn't toying with you." The (h/c) teased Sousuke as he hugged his bicep. The redhead only rolled his eyes, letting (m/n) hang off of his arm as they walked through the hallway, earning weird looks from the rest of the students.

"The sunflower reminds me of you." Sousuke quirked an eyebrow, he had only chose said flower because it was the biggest one in the flower patch. "A flower?" "The sun." The redhead was silent, not understanding what he meant but shrugged. He'll let his potential boyfriend run his mind in weird places.

"Say...do you have it?" "Have what?" (e/c) gleamed up at the redhead. A knowing grin on (m/n)'s face as Sousuke slightly opened his shoulder bag, letting (m/n) peek inside.

The same candle taper, a new one, Sousuke had grabbed some from the spa. He'll cover a shift or two later and (m/n) kissed his cheek, the latter flinched and blushed heavily.

"Can't wait." The (h/c) was now pushing the redhead, eager to start and finish their lunch date so he could make room for their raunchy dinner that would last from the early evening to the dead of night.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

I had debated the plot for this au but i didnt want it to be some random drugged bunny fuck so theres the convo, the trifling comm, and the buildup there. Everything is better w feelings involved and its good if its one that makes u think, its what gives character

I wished this fic was what debuted sousuke on my page argh. this might be my proudest work yet. When i meant rough I meant ROUGH

This will probably be my last one before i disappear for a couple of weeks. I'll reply to stuff but to post nahhh new sem starts soon so imma be super bz.

Haha i got happy cuz ppl commented on my last post so i shat this one out as quickly as i could.

comment lots and ill post lots mkay🍖

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lemineso · 1 year ago

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Twisted Love | JJK | M!Toga!Oc

In which, Miyahira Yuu finally accepts who he is, a cold blooded murderer in search for love, something he is destined to never find

Pairing; JJK x Male!Toga (platonic)

Genre; pure angst

Warning; yandere-like tendencies, genocide, gore, violence, death, cannibalism, possible spoilers, bullying, parental issues, gas-lighting, etc

Status; on-going (slow updates for all of my series)

Introduction

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to be continued…

Check out these; masterlist — interaction — About me

© Marion3tt3 | 2024 — My work is not allowed to be used or adapted in any way without my permission. If you would like to translate please contact me about it, however, reblogs are appreciated and allowing

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lemineso · 2 years ago

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omg- thank you for 100 likes ?! :( <3

#100 likes #tumblr milestone #thank you #kpop #lemineso

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lemineso · 2 years ago

Note

Hey can you write A fluff Taehyung head canon for daring male reader

Kang Taehyun x Male reader

Kang Taehyun x daring!male reader headcanons

request? yes

i really like the idea of him with a bold and daring bf, i think it’s a perfect match will his temperament <3

honestly? he’s here for it.

you wanna go bungee jumping? count him in.

sky diving? sure thing, anything for his cute bf.

he probably loves to do daring stuff with you because of how good the adrenaline rush feels after, and hanging out with his bf is a plus too after all.

of course, naturally he will worry for your wellbeing if you start getting too daring and adventurous.

he’ll step in to make sure that you’re always safe. <3

he will definitely brag about how fun of a couple you guys are to his members. (who may or may not think you’re a little crazy for some of the things you try to do.)

will learn how to surf with you so that you guys can have fun on the beach. (and to make sure you don’t drown..)

“hey babe.” “yeah?” “we should go zip lining..” “..i’m in.”

he just likes to be with you, so of course he will tag along with you for any spontaneous ideas you may have. :(

whenever you do go on any dates, he always makes sure to have a first aid kit in case you hurt yourself. <3

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lemineso · 2 years ago

Note

Hey can you write A fluff Taehyung head canon for daring male reader

Kang Taehyun x Male reader

Kang Taehyun x daring!male reader headcanons

request? yes

i really like the idea of him with a bold and daring bf, i think it’s a perfect match will his temperament <3

honestly? he’s here for it.

you wanna go bungee jumping? count him in.

sky diving? sure thing, anything for his cute bf.

he probably loves to do daring stuff with you because of how good the adrenaline rush feels after, and hanging out with his bf is a plus too after all.

of course, naturally he will worry for your wellbeing if you start getting too daring and adventurous.

he’ll step in to make sure that you’re always safe. <3

he will definitely brag about how fun of a couple you guys are to his members. (who may or may not think you’re a little crazy for some of the things you try to do.)

will learn how to surf with you so that you guys can have fun on the beach. (and to make sure you don’t drown..)

“hey babe.” “yeah?” “we should go zip lining..” “..i’m in.”

he just likes to be with you, so of course he will tag along with you for any spontaneous ideas you may have. :(

whenever you do go on any dates, he always makes sure to have a first aid kit in case you hurt yourself. <3

#kang taehyun #txt taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun x male reader #txt x male reader #txt #kpop x male reader #male reader #txt x reader #headcanon #kpop x reader #kpop #lemineso

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lemineso · 2 years ago

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intro page*~

BODHI ! • HE/SHE ! • 19 !

male idol x male/gn reader content. ★

[ masterlist ] ★

requests are closed ★

RULES !

i write for male and genderneutral readers only !! (including ftm reader.)

i will write poly one shots but please limit it to two idols x reader !!

lowercase is intended.

GROUPS I WRITE FOR:

ATEEZ

SEVENTEEN

STRAY KIDS

BTS

TXT

SHINEE

REQUESTS:

please be specific about your request !! let me know if you would like a oneshot/headcanons/imagines/etc, and what the genre of that request is! (angst, fluff, etc)

i may edit your request slightly.

be clear about what you want !! the more you tell me, the more i am able to write.

i am new to writing on tumblr, so please give me feedback and let me know if i make any mistakes. <3

please send only one request at a time.

#ateez x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #male reader #atz x male reader #svt x gn reader #shinee x male reader #skz x male reader #seventeen x male reader #txt x male reader #bts x male reader #x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop #lemineso

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lemineso · 2 years ago

Text

MASTERLIST ★!

ATZ:

SVT:

SKZ:

BTS:

TXT:

Kang Taehyun x daring male reader headcanons

SHINEE:

#ateez x male reader #kpop x male reader #male reader #atz x male reader #seventeen x male reader #txt x male reader #skz x male reader #kpop x reader #bts x male reader #shinee x male reader #x male reader #kpop #masterlist #lemineso

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lemineso · 2 years ago

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STARSEED : PERFECT LOVE … mature one - shot

pairing : king!hongjoong x concubine!m!reader (ft. concubine!seonghwa and guard!yunho)

genre : fantasy au, slight historical au, royal au, smut, romance, sprinkle angst (i'm sorry i just can't help myself)

word count : 3.7k

warnings : language, slight jealousy (mainly yn), mentions of working in a brothel

smut warnings : unprotected sex, anal sex, oral, slight cumplay / eating

note : for my secret santa @yourfatherlucifer! i hope you enjoy it and happy holidays!! no tag list for this since its a present!

as the king’s favorite, you had many advantages and most of those included being with king in a way no one else could.

something felt uneasy in your stomach. like a swarm of moths flocking around inside of you. it was a feeling you didn't like, but you couldn't figure out how to get rid of it.

"what's wrong, moonflower?" you look up at the voice that snaps you out of your dazed thoughts. your eyes easily lock with seonghwa's figure who is standing behind you. his features are so soft and comforting as he smiles down at you.

his hands come to rest on your shoulders, gently massaging them and you feel the uneasy go down. but not disappear. "hmm?" he cocks his head to the side and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"i don't know... i'm just nervous i guess."

"nervous? about what?"

"hongjoong hasn't requested to see me in a while," you say with a sigh as you feel seonghwa's fingers press into your shoulders and you slowly feel the knots go away. seonghwa always was good a massages.

"i'm sure he's just busy, y/n. he is our king after all," seonghwa tries to reassure you and you appreciate his attempt, but it still doesn't settle the uneasiness. you hate it.

it's been several days since hongjoong last came to see you or even requested for you to spend the night with him. basically almost a week, and he's never went longer than a day without coming to see you. you couldn't help the thoughts running through your mind. was he still interested in you? did he still love you like he claimed?

you know he hasn't been by himself. having heard that he's been requesting for seonghwa as of late. your eyes flicker back up to the male standing behind you. seonghwa... he was so beautiful and kind. you don't blame hongjoong for taking him as a concubine, because you too fell in love with him. it wasn't hard.

perhaps hongjoong has just fallen for seonghwa harder and enjoys his company more than yours. the uneasiness returns tenfold the longer you think about these questions.

"moonflower?" seonghwa's voice once again brings you back to the present, his hand coming to rest on your jaw as he turns it to look at you. his eyes filled with worry as he looks at you.

you don't want to admit it, but you're completely jealous of seonghwa. how could you not be jealous of your lover? even when you both were growing up, he was the star of the village that everyone either wanted to marry or be. even when your village was raided and you were both sold off to the brothel, seonghwa was seen as the favorite "jewel" that everyone wanted. you were always second place to him, your own lover.

hongjoong probably only kept you as a concubine because of seonghwa.

"y/n, what's wrong?"

you open your mouth to speak; however, a knock at your chamber doors stops you. it opens to reveal yunho stepping inside, his armor hugging him nicely as he stands tall and proud.

"excuse me for interrupting, but his highness as requested to see you, y/n," you feel your heart jump into your throat as you stand up. you feel your palms sweat at the negative thoughts that fill your head.

this is it, he's going to tell you that he doesn't want you anymore. he's going to dismiss you and you'll never see him or seonghwa or any of the others again.

"hey, y/n," seonghwa grasps your wrist and you turn to look at him. "come find me later. so we can talk, okay?"

"okay, hwa," he smiles at your words before he's quickly leaning over to kiss you. his lips feel soft against your skin and you have to will yourself to not melt into his touch. thankfully before you can he's pulling away, his touch lingering on your skin even when you walk out of your chambers and down the grand hall.

yunho trails behind you, not saying anything as he escorts you to hongjoong's personal chambers.

"thank you for escorting me, yunho," you say looking at the guard with a smile. yunho returns your smile, bowing his head a little bit and you can't help but think he might have gotten taller since you last saw him. he's definitely gotten buffer, probably training with san and yeosang instead of resting. his brown hair is soft looking and he looks much happier now than when he did years ago when you first met him.

"of course, y/n," he says before his eyes are darting down each end of the hallway. there's no one else but the two of you and yunho takes the chance to lift your hand up and kiss the back it. he lets go of your hand before he's standing tall and adjusting his armor before he's turning and making his way back down the hallway.

and then you're left alone in front of hongjoong's chamber doors. you feel an ugly twist in your stomach as you knock on the oak doors and wait for his voice to let you in.

"come in," god, how long has it been since you've heard his voice. even just hearing him speak is enough to make you weak.

opening the door, you are immediately greeted to the sight of hongjoong lounging at his table, sitting in one of his plush, velvet chairs. his royal garments have been discarded, leaving him in only his thin, silk blouse and black trousers. his brown hair framing his face perfectly and you feel a wave of butterflies fill your stomach as your heart beat picks up.

hongjoong turns to see who has arrived and upon seeing you, his stoic face quickly turns into one of happiness. he stands up and makes his way over to you as you close the door behind you.

"my moonflower," he says, arms open as he brings you into a hug. his strong scent fills your nostrils as his arms wrap around your form and you can't help but to return the hug as you bury your face into his neck. you hear hongjoong let out a small laugh as his hand comes up to run over your head. "i've missed you so much."

you can't help but doubt his words. the knowledge that he's been seeing seonghwa again and again comes crashing in. if he truly missed you then why did he wait till now to request you?

"i've missed you too, your highness," you tell him, you can't help the mix of emotions that swim through you. you want to question him, but you know it will do no good. it will only make you look jealous.

"come on now, y/n," he says with a grin as he pulls away just enough to look at you, "we're alone, there's no need to call me that."

you can't help but feel flushed at his words, "sorry, just a habit," you say a little embarrassed, but hongjoong brushes it off with a laugh. "so... did you call on me solely because you missed me?"

"ah, yes, i actually have something i want to talk to you about?" he says before he's taking you by the hand and guiding you to his lavish and overly large bed. you sit down when the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

"talk about?" you feel your nerves bubble up when you watch hongjoong walk away from you and over to his desk that is filled with an assortment of stuff, but mainly parchment papers with writing all over them. however, its none of the papers that he picks up, but a small ornament box instead.

hongjoong holds the box as if it will break any second before he's gently sitting down next to you on his bed. you look at the box with confusion before you're are looking back up at hongjoong.

"this box is very important to the royal family," he begins to say as he runs his hand over it. you take notice of the white moonflower – the lunar tear – craving on the top of it. "my mother gave this to me when i became king," he adds on and you can't help but feel your palms start to sweat. "when she gave it to me, she told me about the duty my family had to the goddess and to protect this box."

"what's inside it?" you couldn't help but ask as you reached your own hand out. not to touch the box, but to touch hongjoong's hand.

"my mother told me its the spirit of a great evil. that centuries and centuries ago, pandora's soul was trapped in this very box by the goddess," he explains and for a second you want to laugh at his words. you think he's messing with you, but when you look at his face you can tell he's serious.

however, despite this information he is sharing with you, you can't help but want to ask him the one question that stands in your brain. "why are you showing me something this valuable, hongjoong?"

"because, my moonflower," he says with a smile as his hand comes up to cup your face. "i want to give it to you, to protect for me."

"me? h-hongjoong have you gone crazy or something?" you are completely caught off guard by his words. he wants to give you the box that supposedly has the soul of the most evil spirit the world has seen.

pandora is a person of myth; however, its been proven throughout the history of the world that she was just as real as you and hongjoong are. her goal was to bring about the end of the world. how she attempted to bring about the end of the world tended to change slightly, but her goal was still the same. kill any and everything.

and here, hongjoong was giving you this box to trust and hold. "hongjoong..."

"i'm giving entrusting this box because i know i can trust you," he says, leaning over as his lips ghost over your cheek. you feel a chill run down your spine as you look towards your lover right as he rests his forehead against yours. "my favorite flower, the one i love the most," he adds softly as he places the box into your hands.

his words make your heart skip a beat as his hands come up to cup your face. his breath fans against your lips as his hovers closely to yours. just centimeters from touching yours.

"but that's only if you accept the box, my love, i won't force you to take it," he says and that's when you're reminded of the weight in your hands from the small metal box.

you take a deep breath before answering, "of course, i’ll guard it with my heart, joongie." the king's smile is enough to make your heart do a flip.

“that’s not the only reason why i summoned you here though,” hongjoong said, his usual grin on his face as he gently takes the box and sets it on his bedside table.

you feel hongjoong tug on your sleeve and you turn to see his eyes filled with lust and longing and you can't help the smile that tugs at your own lips. "its been way too long since we have been one, don't you think?"

"yes it has, my king."

hongjoong's chamber was filled with a mixture of your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin. your legs were spread wide and you were practically bent in half as hongjoong pounded away at your hole. you couldn't help but arch your back as how hongjoong's cock filled you up.

"you take me so well, moonflower," hongjoong says a grin painting his lips as one of his hands wrap around your own cock, he gives it a firm squeeze that makes you cry out. your lover can't help but let out a laugh as he watches you wither underneath him.

"n-ngh! joongie! p-please!" you cry out as you feel hongjoong hit your sweet spot as he continues to stroke your cock. his thumb runs over your slit and it slowly begins to leak pre-cum that hongjoong uses as lube to stroke you off quicker.

"please what, love? use your words," he's clearly mocking you as he leans down to kiss you before he's pulling out of you and turning you onto your stomach. you can't help but moan at how hongjoong handles you like you were nothing.

"h-hongjoong," you can't help but moan as you feel hongjoong lick at your puckered hole as his hand grabs at your cock again and begins to jerk you off once more. "a-ah fuck! fuckfuckfuck!"

hongjoong laughs as he licks at your hole before he's pulling away. "does it feel good, moonflower?"

"y-yes s-so-so good, joongie!"

you let out another moan when you feel hongjoong enter you once again. you can't help but let out a sigh at hongjoong not only filling you up once again, but also at him finally leaving your poor cock alone. both his hands grip your hips tightly and he begins thrusting into you once again.

you grip the sheets below you tightly as you can't help but feel your eyes roll back as hongjoong's cock massages your prostate. you clench around him tightly as you feel your orgasm build up the longer he fucks you.

"you're so perfect, my flower," hongjoong says as he presses his chest against your back. his hands wandering over your body before they stop of play with your nipples and pinching them harshly which causes you to let out loud cry. "you take my cock so well and your body was made for me."

"n-ngh, yes joongie, only yours," you say in your fucked out daze as you felt hongjoong trail his lips down your back. you felt a pleasurable chill run over your body when hongjoong licks up your spin before his arms are wrapping underneath your armpits in order to pull you up off the bed.

you're pressed flush against hongjoong as he continues to abuse your hole, pounding away as he uses you for his pleasure. not that you mind, you would happily allow hongjoong to use your body to his heart's content in order to pleasure himself and make himself happy.

"you're so beautiful," he says before kissing your cheek. "i love you so much, moonflower," he says and the nickname that him and seonghwa and others always use for you makes your heart skip a beat. you remember when hongjoong had overheard seonghwa call you that nickname and how he had asked if he could call you that ask well.

"if i could marry you, i would in a heartbeat, but t-those bastard ad-visors of mine– fuck!" hongjoong cuts himself off as he does a particularly hard thrust before he's stilling himself inside of you for a moment.

he slowly lets you go as you rest back on his sheets, the cold material feels good against your hot skin. hongjoong moves once more to hover above you as he leans down to kiss you again.

"i wanted to ask..." he begins as he moves at a slower pace this time. "if you would come with me on my next campaign. i can't bare being without you and so i want you to be with me."

"r-really?" his question catches you off guard as you turn to look at him with just as much shock as you feel.

"yes," he says with a little laugh. "i've been trying to find a way to ask you since i got back from my last one and i even asked seonghwa if i should ask you. he scolded me for trying to hog you too much, but he eventually told me to just ask and so... yeah, here i am."

"fuck– hongjoong, of course!" you say when you feel his tip rub against your sweet spot. hongjoong gives you a teasing smile.

hongjoong doesn't say anything as he kisses you one last time before he's focusing back on making the two of you come. and when you finally do, you moan at how you feel hongjoong pumping you full of his cum. you know that when he pulls out, it will leak out of you knowing how much cum the king has.

you are left a panting mess as you feel your own cum panting your stomach. hongjoong pulls out slowly and you whine at how empty you feel as your lover turns you onto your back to look at the mess he had cause.

you watch as hongjoong bends down before licking up most of your cum that painted your skin. he then moves to lean over you before kissing you and you cringe at how you taste yourself on his lips and you can tell hongjoong is enjoying himself.

when he pulls away from your lips, you can't help but pout as he smiles at you softly before he's rolling over to lay next you. he brings his hand up to rest on your waist as he pulls you closer to you.

"i love you, my king," you said and hongjoong looks at you fondly as you brush some hair out of his face.

"i love you too, my moonflower."

its a few hours later when you are finally leaving hongjoong's chambers. your lover of course begged you to stay with him longer, pleading to spend the entire night with him, but you turned him down. not because you didn't want to spend the rest of the night in his embrace, but because you needed to find seonghwa.

you wanted to talk to him as a way to clear your conscious from those jealous thoughts you had earlier.

you kissed hongjoong's pouty lips, "next time we can spend the entire night together, my king."

"yeah, yeah, just go before i change my mind in letting you leave," his tone is full of tease as he rests on his side, his silk blankets the only thing covering his nude body.

you let out a laugh as you reach for the box before making your way out of his chambers and down the hall before you are arriving at the wing that has both yours and seonghwa's private chambers.

standing outside of seonghwa's chambers, you feel a sense of nervousness settle on you as you try to build up the fleeting courage to knock on his door.

then without a second thought, you knocked on his door. you bit your lip as you waited for your lover to open the door, and it felt like ages before you heard the door opening.

your eyes immediately met seonghwa's bright and shining ones. and then he beamed a bright smile at you when he realized who was at your door.

"ah, y/n!" he says your name and you can't help want to hear him say again and again, over and over. "did you go see hongjoong?"

"yeah, i just got back," you tell him and the box he gifted you feels heavy in your hands as you look at seonghwa. "b-but i wanted to talk to you, can i... can i come in?"

"of course, moonflower," seonghwa says before letting you, "how did your visit with hongjoong go?" he asks once the two of you are in his room and away from any prying eyes.

seonghwa had stripped you of your clothes, a wet rag in his hands as he wipes down your body. you felt a warmth spread over you as you felt seonghwa's hands roam around your body. you had to stop yourself from moaning when his hand wrapped around your cock.

"so..." seonghwa begins after he finished wiping you off, "what did you want to talk about?" his head tilts to the side as he watches you redress yourself.

"i wanted to apologize for earlier," you say, feeling embarrassed now that you say it out loud.

"what for, y/n?" seonghwa asks as he comes to sit down next to you on his bed. he takes your hands into his warm ones and sweet scent makes you want to melt into his embrace.

"i thought hongjoong was going to dismiss me from being his concubine because he had been seeing you more than me recently. i was... scared that i would never be able to see you again."

"oh, y/n, i would never let that happen," he says pulling you into his embrace. your head rests against his chest, your cheek pressing into the soft material of his blouse. "i love you so much."

you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his confession, tears brimming at your waterline as you wrapped your arms around him. "i'm sorry for being jealous, i'm sorry for not being good enough like you."

"you hush now, don't think like that, my love. you are more than enough for me, that's why i love you." you peer up at seonghwa to see him smiling down at you. his hand runs through your hair before he's cupping your face and kissing you.

you immediately melt into the kiss as your hands pull him closer to you. seonghwa moves in order to lay you down onto his bed with him hovering overtop of you. both his and your own hands roam over each other's body, pulling away your clothes so that you are both bare and pressed up again each other like you have been so many times before in the past.

seonghwa kisses down your body, his hands squeezing your flesh as he leaves his own trail of lovebites next to and around the ones hongjoong had left.

and then seonghwa is entering you, your warm hole welcoming his cock as he milks your prostate. your moans fill his chamber as his hips meet your ass and you can't help but feel loved by seonghwa.

eventually, you reach your climax with seonghwa before you're laying together in his bed. the two of you lay so close to each other that your noses graze each other whenever one of you moves.

"seonghwa?"

"yes, y/n?"

"we'll be together forever, right? nothing's going to tear us apart?"

"no, never. together forever." you two share a brief kiss before seonghwa is pulling you to rest your head against his chest. seonghwa smiles down at you before his eyes flicker up at pandora's box that sits idly on the bedside table behind you.

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

613 notes · View notes

lemineso · 2 years ago

Text

CRYINF ITS SO CUTE

you’re hongjoong’s bias

when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you

⇀ pairing idol!hongjoong x idol!reader

⇀ genre fluff, idol au

⇀ style one shot

⇀ word count 8.6k

⇀ warnings brief mentions of idol life difficulties, food, hugging, kissing, this is basically all fluff

⇀ reactions from the gc “IM GONNA JUMP OFF A MOVING TRAIN” “Ooohhhhhhh Oh Shit” “You love to torment us with this don’t you”

note this is written completely gender neutral, all of your group members use they/them pronouns and have unisex names so you can imagine any type of group, there’s a mention of makeup but all genders wear makeup in the entertainment industry, also here is a little playlist inspired by the group in this fic if you’re real delulu like me

your group, eclipse, had been enjoying your recent promotional period, your fans, lovingly termed starlight, had been working hard to promote your latest comeback and for once your company had been able to do the same. eclipse wasn’t particularly unknown before, you’d already had your first music show win and been recognized at several korean music award shows, but this was certainly your most successful song and mini album yet. you, as the main dancer and oldest, had particularly enjoyed all of the interest from idols that had asked to do the dance challenge with you for tiktok and instagram. it allowed you to meet a lot of people in the industry who you had admired and wanted to get to know before but didn’t know how to approach. of all the idols you had done the challenge with there was certainly one that stuck out in your mind, kim hongjoong, captain of ateez and dj on idol radio.

your group had gone onto the radio show as part of your promotions, something not unusual for you all as you’d been on an episode when youngjae and young k were the hosts, as well as one with joohoney and hyungwon as djs just over a year ago. this time, however, felt very different. maybe it was the nerves from how much more attention your group was receiving that was making you feel a little fidgety in your seat or maybe it was the fact that one of the djs couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

for the first ten minutes of your time at idol radio you’re scared that there’s something on your face, trying to subtly glance at any reflective surface to parse what could be causing someone to pay so much attention to you.

when yunho and hongjoong both seemed to be completely focused on another one of your members, asking something about the recording process for the album, you try to subtly place a hand on the arm of your group’s leader, nuri, sat right next to you.

as you lean away from the microphone in front of you, your leader turns to you, and you breathe out the word “makeup” in hopes that nuri will find whatever smudge caught hongjoong’s sharp eye.

unfortunately, they only shake their head, eyes darting around your face but returning to your own once they don’t find anything. they squeeze your hand gently with their own before turning back to the interview, a subtle gesture to both comfort you and let you know that they will definitely ask why you were concerned later.

as you retract your hand from nuri’s arm, you turn back to face the center of the table, which was conveniently set up so that your and nuri’s seats were directly opposite hongjoong and yunho’s, respectively. meaning that when you turn back to refocus on the matter at hand you instantly notice how hongjoong nervously looks away from you, suddenly finding the side of his co-hosts face extremely interesting.

“so, your latest mini album is called,” yunho begins, looking at the card in front of him to guarantee he doesn’t mispronounce it, “close orbit. this is the end of the orbit series in your concept right?”

nuri nods eagerly next to you before beginning their usual spiel about the members' roles in the creative direction of your group.

often times you’re deemed as the second in command, filling in the gaps your leader may miss, and therefore you’d like to think that you’re pretty good about turning on professional mode no matter the situation. however, from the corner of your eye you see hongjoong’s gaze flitting between you and nuri every few seconds and his behavior has begun to have you a bit nervous, fidgeting with one of the rings your stylist had given you that morning. you desperately try to pay attention to what nuri is talking about but, with the combination of the fact that you already know everything about what they’re saying and the heat that’s creeping up your neck as you try to push the thoughts of hongjoong’s behavior from your mind, you find your own thoughts wandering to hongjoong and his weird behavior.

yunho calls your name suddenly, once nuri is finished, shifting your attention back to the interview at hand and beginning to talk about your involvement in eclipse, aside from simply being a member of the group.

you try not to flick your gaze over to hongjoong too often, who now seems to find the cards he’s surely read over several times before intensely interesting, as yunho acknowledges your skills as main dancer and notes for the audience how involved you are in your group’s choreographic process, which already has a warmth blooming in your chest as you’re aware he’s the main dancer of his own group and you always find recognition from other group’s dancers to feel extra special, but the warmth is quickly transferred to your cheeks only a moment later.

“it’s kind of funny,” yunho starts and you tilt your head in interest as he peaks over to his co-host, “you’re hongjoong’s bias.”

from the look that takes over hongjoong’s face, a mix of shock and embarrassment, and the way he turns quickly to look at yunho with slight anger, you assume that this fact was supposed to stay secret, although you’re partly thankful that you have a seemingly good explanation for why hongjoong hadn’t been able to look away from you since you stepped into the studio.

you’re sure your own shocked expression comes over your face before you’re schooling it quickly, although you hear your maknae, star, sat right next to you, snickering softly under their hand, and you shoot star a quick side eye that seems to remove the humor from the situation for them.

“uh, thank you,” you say with a bow as low as the table in front of you allows, “it means a lot to hear that from a senior like you. thank you for your support.”

“of course,” hongjoong speaks suddenly, mirroring your bow as much as he can before stuttering out a statement about how you’re “so inspiring” and “light up the stage”. his face is getting redder by the second as he digs himself further into a hole but you can feel that your face is heating to match his own.

yunho seems to sense the way he’s pushed the interview off the rails and interrupts to bring attention back to your group entirely and your comeback.

through the next few minutes of the show, you’re noticeably and uncharacteristically distant as you now find yourself to have almost traded positions with hongjoong, subtly staring at him as much as you can manage without drawing immediate attention from your fans or members.

in opposition, hongjoong had now taken to looking at pretty much anything that wasn’t you after yunho had shared his little secret. unfortunately, maybe fortunately, you found that you can barely tear your gaze from the blue haired man across the table.

you were obviously a fan of ateez, being able to appreciate a lot of aspects about their talents and skills, but you’d never really gotten too much into the members themselves, aside from knowing who was who and what they each did. you found that as an idol yourself it could feel weird to try acting like a normal fan of a group, making you almost hyper aware of your own fans and their habits as you would try to focus on just one video that wasn’t related directly to the group’s music or performance.

this had meant that you had no ateez bias, although you knew a decent amount about the members, but now you’re rethinking your whole ideas of being a fan as an idol.

as you think to yourself, you attempt to rationalize the past few minutes, assuming that yunho was just joking around, trying to make fun of his hyung or maybe meaning something different from what your group’s fans meant when they said they biased you. however, every time you’ve managed to start convincing yourself, you’re just reminded of hongjoong’s reaction in the moment his member had said something.

your spiraling thoughts are only serving to distract you and suddenly, feeling a hand on your shoulder to bring you back to reality, you realize that they had started playing one of the songs from your album, letting you and your members grab snacks and wave to the fans through the window. the member with their hand on your shoulder, one of your best friends in the group, eunjae, looks at you with a mix of worry and bemusement, although you hear the slight smirk they wear in their voice as they ask if you’re okay.

you wave eunjae off before you head over to the window, not feeling particularly hungry, and hope that maybe seeing your fans will help to ground you, just as they always do.

as you’re waving through the window at several people with headbands of your and your member’s names you feel a presence beside you, much larger than any of your members. you turn to find yunho near you, not crowding you but obviously intentionally in your space, most likely to draw your attention without suspicion.

“sorry about that,” he says as you turn to him and he gestures toward the snack cart closer to the corner.

you know what he’s doing, trying to make it seem like you two are just talking about the food so as to not make fans question your interaction and so you follow him to the snack cart as you ask, trying not to show any of the question on your face, “about what?”

“making you uncomfortable,” he supplies. “hongjoong had asked me not to say anything but i didn’t think about the fact that he may have been asking that for your comfort rather than his own” yunho says in barely a whisper and you can see a light blush dusting his cheeks.

you’re thankful that your members had basically switched with you, greeting fans after clearing away from the snacks.

“don’t worry,” you reassure. “i'm not uncomfortable, it was more shocking than anything” you tell him, and as you say it you realize it’s the truth.

as an idol you often have to sacrifice your comfort for others but in this moment you aren’t saying it out of necessity but as the truth, and when you glance behind you at hongjoong, who’s intently avoiding all of your members as he also waves to the atiny that are mixed in with your fans, you feel something sparkle in the pit of your stomach. it’s a pleasant feeling, something reminiscent of admiration but more complex, deeper.

you’re not afraid to admit to yourself that hongjoong is attractive, undeniably handsome and, from everything you’d heard, genuinely nice to those around him. you could admire him as a leader and creative, knowing how much responsibility he had and that he still managed to enjoy what he did, but, with both of you working in the industry, dating could be next to impossible.

in all honesty, you’re not sure the last time you’d even had time to explore any sort of romantic interest in anyone, and maybe you were simply deprived of that experience so your brain was running wild with even the slightest exploration of thought. however your company had no dating ban and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to venture into that side of a normal life.

bringing you back to the present moment, yunho lets out a heavy breath and hands you a random piece of candy off the cart that you accept with a slight bow, convincing everyone that might be watching that you were talking about the snacks the whole time.

soon after your interaction concludes, everyone is quick to gather back around the table, taking your seats as your song fades out in the background. the next segment goes smoothly, yunho and hongjoong leading your group in a little game about how much your members know each other.

throughout the game you can’t help but sneak glances at hongjoong, your mind still working through the thoughts you’d had during the break. he appears to be trying hard to not notice you looking at him, but he manages to slip up occasionally and you try to send him a warm, if not slightly teasing, grin each time your eyes connect.

though your original intention with the gesture wasn’t to fluster the man, you find the way he reacts each time to be endearing, the blush returning to his cheeks and even starting to spread up to his ears. every time your gazes meet you feel that same tingle in your stomach begin to spread up to your chest, his expression each time feeding it, and you start to find a bit of comfort in that sensation as you feel like you’re getting to admire hongjoong who you’d been avoiding at the beginning of the show.

you’re starting to have a bit too much fun with this little game you made for yourself when yunho introduces another one of the songs from your group’s album and it starts to fade in, bringing an end to your antics.

this time, as the break starts, you intentionally take a moment before standing, pretending to stretch in your seat and standing slowly as you see hongjoong moving toward the fans out of the corner of your eye. you, as subtly as you can, move toward the fans and in the general direction of hongjoong, trying to get the opportunity to talk to him since he had been shying away from speaking to you ever since yunho’s little slip up. he seems too distracted by an atiny that’s mouthing something to him through the window to notice how close you manage to get.

once you’re sufficiently within speaking range, but not too close, always careful of fan suspicion when you’re in the presence of other idols, you try to casually greet him with a simple “hi” but you’re unprepared for the way he quickly flips around to face you, looking almost like a deer in headlights.

you’re both a bit stuck, just staring at each other before you hear a very obvious fake cough coming from both yunho and nuri that seems to snap you out of it and you each try to play it off with giggles and laughs, mostly for the camera and fans that had been intently tuned in to the strange interaction between the two of you.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you say as you move toward the window, pretending like it had been your intention the whole time to simply say hi to fans once again.

“oh no, uhm, i’m sorry, i don’t know why i reacted like that,” he answers shakily with a nervous chuckle and turns back to the fans as well.

for a moment you both just wave out at the fans, genuinely finding interest in those that had come to support you. after what you deem to be enough time of interaction you finally speak up.

“i’m not uncomfortable, by the way,” you mention casually, hoping hongjoong understands what you mean.

“oh, really?” he sound’s surprised, and you peak out of the corner of your eye to see that he’s trying to hold back the surprise from showing on his face.

“yeah,” you admit. “i’m actually flattered,” you add, turning to hongjoong with a soft smile before you move to the snack cart.

you miss the way his shoulders seem to visibly relax and the grin that spreads onto his face as you leave. fan’s will chalk it up to the fact that he was relieved to be a further distance from you, hongjoong being know to keep his space from the idols that come on as guests, but yunho is quick to spot that it looks more like the expression his captain wears after a satisfying performance or successful interview.

your break is quick to wrap up after that, this song being shorter than the one they’d played earlier, and you’re all back to your seats. you start to readjust in your seat, getting comfortable for the next portion of the show, until you’re passed a head mic and remember that you’re going to teach, along with another one of your members, insoo, yunho and hongjoong the point choreography from your title track.

you’re excited to be back in your element, almost forgetting everything that had happened with hongjoong as you and your member run through the choreography to demonstrate before you’ll teach the boys.

the choreography is nothing too difficult, as your company is always sure to remind you that easier point choreo is more marketable, but it involves a great deal of interaction between you and your member, them starting the section standing directly in front of you, and you manipulate them until they have to squat in front of you.

yunho is quick to decide that he will do your part, claiming that because you’re both main dancers it makes sense as well as sighting the height difference, although the height difference between you and insoo is almost negligible compared to yunho and hongjoong’s height difference, but hongjoong doesn’t put up a fight, the gaze he’d had on you at the beginning of the schedule returning with a different undertone, one you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

the choreography wasn’t particularly sexy, your group not one to lean too heavily into those kinds of concepts, but it was certainly powerful and this particular song made you feel confident, considering you got to be center for the point.

you blame hongjoong’s shift on your own perception, but his gaze certainly reignites the buzz in your stomach, now fully formed into butterflies whose wings brush against the inside of your ribs, longing to be released.

you try to shake it off and step into teaching mode, familiar comfort seeping into you as you take on the most usual role for yourself. you quickly teach yunho your part, and as expected he catches on quickly, and insoo tries to demonstrate what hongjoong should do as best they can, although their part is hard to describe as insoo often goes off of your energy and cues.

when he stumbles out of the ending squat to fall on his butt all three of you that are standing are quick to rush over to him but he just chuckles in slight embarrassment before picking himself up and you all laugh together.

“hm what about you try it with him and i can do it with yunho,” insoo suggests quickly, looking like they just thought of the best solution to hongjoong’s learning difficulties.

you’re a little surprised but agree nonetheless as yunho adds that he’s sure his hyung would be fine with that, but once hongjoong is standing right in front of you it’s not so much hongjoong you’re worried about.

you try to back up a bit, trying to give yourself a bit of distance between you two, but are quick to realize that the choreography won’t work if you’re any further apart and so just as you take a step toward the man in front of you he also takes one into you, realizing that you had both started to get too close to the table now behind him.

your hands are quick to come up to his chest before you can fully fall into him and you jump back as quickly as you can, pulling your hands away as though he burned you.

the same look of shock as when you’d come up behind him during the break is present on hongjoong’s face, and he’s glad there are no cameras that face him right now to see it, but all you can pay attention to is the warmth that you had felt on your palms at the contact between you two.

the whole interaction had felt to you like it was minutes long but in reality it was barely a couple seconds, and you’re once again trying to slip back into the dance teacher role as well as you can when you’re so acutely aware of how close hongjoong is to you in this moment. you can just smell the fading cologne he’d applied earlier in the day, a mix of linen and leather that feels like it turns your brain to mush as you try to remember what you were supposed to be doing with him standing in front of you like this in the first place.

his surprise melts to a look of concern as he sees you shake your head, hoping to clear your thoughts as though they were being physically blocked by all your senses screaming hongjoong.

“so you start like this,” you supply quickly, trying to ignore the way hongjoong won’t drop the worried expression from his face.

you need to move quickly, the man in front of you is starting to make you feel dizzy and you aren’t sure your company, or your members, would enjoy you passing out for seemingly no reason while on a live program.

normally when you dance this part, you make full contact with your member but you can’t bring yourself to touch hongjoong completely, partially fearing you won’t want to let go once you do. instead you ghost your hands along the places you might normally drag them and float over the places you might normally grab.

as you move him slowly into the final positioning you’re realizing that it may have been more torturous to avoid touching him then to just give in to your desire to connect with him, every time your skin makes the lightest contact sending a jolt up through your arms and your breath catching in your throat, if for a moment.

“so that’s it,” you nod, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel and hongjoong looks up at you almost expectantly. you’re waiting for him to move, looking back down at him, and you feel his gaze almost peering through you, like he can see every deep breath you’re taking to try to calm your heart, like he knows exactly how you’ve felt for the past few minutes as you tried to teach him the movement, like he knows exactly what he does to you.

it’s kind of funny how you could feel so small compared to a man that you’re currently looking down on but it’s kim hongjoong who’s looking back up at you, in your clouded brain it seems to make sense.

you’re not sure who speaks up but you hear yunho and insoo moving next to you, although the dull ringing in your ears hasn’t fully subsided. you feel yourself, as though in a daze, move away from hongjoong, something you’re not actually sure you even want to do but your body has decided for you.

as insoo reclaims their place in front of you, you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’d had that entire encounter with hongjoong in front of, not just your friends, but your fans, your managers, and several live cameras. you feel redness creeping up to consume almost your entire face and you’re glad insoo is blocking you. they give you a slight look of concern and you just clear your throat, pushing the thoughts of hongjoong down until they meet the butterflies in the pit of your stomach, taking a breath to urge them to calm down as well.

the rest of idol radio seems to pass in a blur. you’re even more distant than when you were lost in your thoughts earlier, although this time it seems as though your mind is absolutely blank. if you had wanted it to shut up before, now you’re wishing for it to just go, the image of hongjoong squatting in front of you the only thing you can seem to focus on.

you don’t fully come back to your senses until you’re sat in the car that’s set to take you, and your members, back to your dorm, your schedules for the day complete, and although you thought that distance may have aided your situation you were certainly wrong. your mind has taken to replaying the moment you’d shared with him over and over, not sparing a single detail and you feel as though you’re reliving the interaction again as you practically sense the heat radiating from his skin under your fingertips.

“are you, like, good?” star asks, placed once again right next to you. you look at them with what you hope is a convincing smile as you nod gently, before turning back to watch seoul pass in a blur through the window.

that night, you and your members, seven in total, gather to eat the takeout your manager had ordered as congratulations on a good day of promotions and suddenly you feel several pairs of eyes on you.

“what?” you ask, looking between all the members that weren’t currently too focused on their food.

“what was that between you and hongjoong?” insoo asks with a smirk, noddles almost forgotten on their plate.

“what was what?” you ask, trying to will the blush that creeps up your neck away.

insoo rolls their eyes in response, seeing right through your act and very clearly remembering what they had seen when they were stood right in front of you.

“y/n’s crushing on hongjoong,” star sings cheerily before someone’s foot, likely eunjae’s, makes contact with their shin under the table and they hiss.

you scoff at the statement, trying to play dumb to the way all your members were clearly seeing through you. “i do not,” you state indignantly, taking a big bite of your food as you glare at star.

“whatever you say,” star shrugs, a teasing smirk on their face.

luckily the conversation is quick to shift away from you and you’re able to enjoy your meal without any more interrogation.

later that night, as you prepare for bed, you hear a gentle knock on your bedroom door and open it to find nuri.

“hey, what’s up?” you ask, noticing they’re already dressed for bed.

“here,” they say, holding a piece of paper out which you take from their hand with some hesitancy.

“thanks?” you state, although it’s more of a question as you wonder what’s on the slip of paper now in your possession.

“hongjoong’s kakao id,” they say with a nod toward the paper and you blush, clearing your throat quickly. “it’s fine to have a crush by the way,” they continue and your face only grows warmer. “i’d just appreciate it if you'd tell me if you end up dating. easier for me to help.”

you don’t say anything as you just nod your head in understanding, closing your door quickly and pressing your face into your hands in embarrassment.

you place the slip onto your desk, glad in moments like these that you got the only solo room, and debate about adding him. i mean, you hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to each other, but what could really be the worst that could happen?

you try not to think about how nuri got his id, wondering if maybe they already knew each other and praying they hadn’t asked him for it just for you today, as you add him on your kakaotalk, tossing around ideas of opening messages. eventually you settle on a simple “hi, this is y/n” and send it quickly before you can overthink.

you don’t expect a reply immediately, noting how late it is, but almost as soon as you lock your phone the screen is lighting up with a message back.

hongjoong: hi

hongjoong: i wasn’t sure you were actually going to text me

hongjoong: i mean i know you told me you weren’t uncomfortable but still

a smile stretches across your lips as you realize hongjoong gave his id to nuri to give to you specifically and you scold yourself for being so out of it that he couldn’t give it to you directly.

you: i meant it when i said i was flattered

you: it’s a huge compliment to be admired by someone like you

you try to err on the side of caution. maybe he just wanted to talk to you about work, music and dance, so you tried not to be too informal, ateez and hongjoong being your senior. although you did try to hint that you were interested past a professional, and even platonic, relationship, but it had certainly been a while since you’d flirted with anyone, outside of fan service.

hongjoong: i wanted to ask you something

you: ask away

hongjoong: we have a new song coming out soon and i wondered if you’d be interested in doing the dance challenge for it

hongjoong: with me

you could feel the butterflies awaken inside of you once more, excited at the prospect of being able to see him again and the fact that he asked you specifically about doing the challenge.

you: i’d love to

you: just text me

with your agreement you both wrap up the conversation, bidding each other good night, and you go to bed with your thoughts full of hongjoong and stomach full of butterflies.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the rest of your own promotional period flies by, successful and rewarding as the support from your fans results in several music show wins and lots of recognition from all over the world. the whole time you try to focus more on work than your recently budding friendship with the leader of ateez, but it’s hard when you find yourself just as excited to end your day and finally be able to message him as you do when you can see your fans or perform. your members have certainly noticed a change in your demeanor, eager to shut yourself in your room to be alone, and some fans have commented about how happy you’ve seemed lately. luckily, your interaction from idol radio is barely recognized, only a few of the usual shippers making theories about your or hongjoong’s behavior that other fans are quick to brush off as a reach.

hongjoong: happy last day of promotions! i hope your schedules go well today

he doesn’t normally text you in the morning but you’d been telling him the night before about it being your last day to promote your comeback and so you check the timestamp on the message to find it was sent around 3am, probably when he managed to actually get to bed considering he’d told you he was working in the studio on ateez’s next comeback.

you shoot him a thank you text back, doubting he’ll see it until he wakes up a little later in the day, and get ready to head out for your schedule.

you were performing on the show again today, a music show that one of hongjoong’s members, yeosang, was an mc on. you didn’t even think much of the fact as you arrived and got ready with your styling team, having interacted with yeosang as an mc during this promotional period already. although as you sat in the hair and makeup chair, ready for the usual routine, a light knock sounded against the door of your dressing room.

after a quick check that everyone was decent, nuri approached the door. you couldn’t see who was on the other side, nuri discussing something with them and bowing as you assume the other person handed them a plastic bag.

you were slightly confused, none of your members or staff having ordered delivery, as nuri closed the door, taking a peek into the plastic bag before heading in your direction.

“here,” they said as they placed the bag onto your lap and you gave them a questioning glance.

“what’s this?”

“from yeosang who said it’s from a friend,” they explain with a wink and you try not to blush at the implication.

nuri walks away without saying anything else and you glance into the bag, seeing a few of the snacks you’d mentioned craving to hongjoong just last night. you push around the items and find a little note, similar to that which had held his id on it, and open it in the bag to avoid suspicion from those around you.

i know how hard it can be to eat during schedules so i hope this can help. good luck today, text me when you win

you try to ignore the way your heart picks up at the thought of him caring this much for you but it’s hard when you know that you’re already so infatuated with him. his confidence in you and your group was also just so heartwarming, something that was certainly making you fall deeper for the man you’d so recently grown attached to.

you munch on the gift as your hair gets styled, a smile unable to leave your face as you debate texting him to thank him. unfortunately you don’t get a chance as you’re thrown into the whirlwind of performing and preparing for a potential encore stage, your group loving to do silly little things for starlight whenever you win.

of course, like most times, hongjoong is right and your group wins for the final time this comeback, celebrating on stage with your fans and members. throughout your encore, your mind drifts to hongjoong, how you can text him and celebrate together.

as soon as all of your members arrive to your dorm, shoes discarded in the entranceway and takeout being served on the table, there’s a sudden ring of the doorbell and half of you freeze. the other half continue on with their tasks as nuri offers to get the door, handing off the serving task to insoo who is more than happy to take responsibility.

“y/n!” nuri calls from the door only a moment later and a few of your members give you a confused look as you shrug and make your way to your leader.

“yeah?” you ask as you approach, turning the corner to see two bouquets, not too large but very beautiful, in nuri’s grasp, the front door closing as you assume the delivery driver leaves.

“this is for you,” nuri says with a grin and you don’t keep the surprise from your features as they hand you the smaller of the two pieces, noting that they are your favorite flowers and spotting the little card in the center.

y/n,

congratulations on your win today. you always look so beautiful when you dance.

hj <3

you don’t try to hide the blush that blooms over your cheeks, your mind hyper focused on the little heart at the end of the message, and turn to nuri.

“what does that one say?” you ask, gesturing to the other bouquet that contains a mix of flowers with your group’s official colors.

nuri turns the bunch to you so that you can read the card.

eclipse,

congratulations on a successful comeback,

ateez

you nod as you turn back to the flowers in your hands, nuri pushing past you to join the other members in the kitchen. you can hear them explain who the flowers are from and mentally thank nuri when they don’t mention your personal bunch.

you manage to sneak the flowers to your room before you head back out to the table for dinner, shooting hongjoong a picture and a quick thank you.

hongjoong: i’m glad you like them

hongjoong: and i meant it, you looked breathtaking today

you suppress your smile as you read his response, trying not to catch the attention of any of your members, but you glance up to see nuri looking at you with a knowing, if not approving, smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’ve been following ateez a little more closely now, their newest comeback, bouncy, releasing just last week and doing amazingly on the charts. you’d been sending hongjoong little things like snacks, coffee, and meals to keep him motivated and show your support and he’d been showing his appreciation by sending you pictures of him eating or just selfies of him during schedules.

you were certain that your relationship was headed in a more romantic direction as you both became more bold in your texts. you’d also begun video calling when you were able, sometimes just doing your own things while you were on a call together.

you were eager to possibly try taking the next step and actually go out on a date but with ateez still in the midst of promotion you understood that hongjoong’s free time was limited. so you left it up to him, not pressuring hongjoong by asking him out or even alluding to wanting to date.

“do you know the challenge or do you want me to teach you?” hongjoong had asked one night when you were on video call.

he’d brought up your promise from months ago to do the challenge and you assured him that you were still interested.

“i mean i sort of know it just from watching it a bunch, but if you want to teach me i’m not opposed,” you said with a cheeky shrug and hongjoong grinned.

“i don’t have to teach you babe,” he says with a light chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine.

that was another thing that had started recently, the pet names. hongjoong had accidentally referred to you as “babe” over text one time, rushing to apologize when you had taken just a second too long to respond, but you assured him that you weren’t upset just trying to be able to actually think again when the name had short circuited your brain.

“fine,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “i want you to teach me,” you admit with a slight wine. “there, happy?”

he chuckles again with a nod and an “okay” before you’re setting up the best day for you to meet at the kq company building, having to end the call soon after so that he can actually get some sleep.

the next few days have you on edge as you anticipate being able to see hongjoong in person for the first time since your appearance on idol radio. you even plan your outfit a day in advance, feeling almost like you’re going on a first date as you ensure your hair and makeup are perfect.

“have fun,” nuri says with a knowing wink as you leave your dorm and you don’t give them your normal embarrassed look, too focused on the excitement of seeing hongjoong.

you arrive at the kq building right on time, a staff member greeting you in the lobby and taking you to the practice room where you’ll be doing the challenge. you’d seen this same room plenty before on video, ateez dance practices being one of the few contents you’d watched before getting to know hongjoong.

“he should be here in a second,” the staff says, glancing at her phone, and you nod with a grin.

“its fine,” you assure. “thank you.”

just as you start to observe the room a little more, looking around and comparing it to your own practice room, the door opens and hongjoong enters.

even though you’d seen him on your screen almost everyday for the past week, nothing can compare to the way he looks in person, especially since he’d changed his look. atiny had been going crazy over his newly silver hair and you were no different, texting him how much you loved it as soon as you found out.

“hi,” he says with a smile as soon as he spots you.

you reach out your hand and repeat his greeting, bowing as you shake hands to imitate a sense of formality in front of the staff member.

you don’t want to let go of his hand but you pull away anyway, taking a step back to put some distance between you two and hoping to calm the urge that bubbles in your chest to take him into your arms.

“so, would you like for me to teach you the challenge?” he asks and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop the laugh that builds in your throat at the question, knowing you’d already asked him to teach it to you a few days ago.

“yes please,” you nod and hongjoong gestures so that you can move toward the mirror.

honestly, the choreography is pretty easy to pick up, especially since you’ve watched it so many times already, but you relish in the way hongjoong watches you and decide to just mess around with him a little. it couldn’t hurt to ask a few questions you already knew the answer to right?

“so, is it here or out here?” you ask with an innocent quirk of your brow, placing your left hand out, palm flat and moving it back and forth between two positions.

you see hongjoong’s eyes narrow just slightly, as he had clearly seen you get it right the first time, and you know he’s picking up on your little game. his eyes flick to the staff member in the room, noting that she’s on her phone in the corner, looking away, before he takes a step toward you.

instead of just answering your question he reaches around you, keeping his body on your right and wrapping his left arm around your back to grasp your elbow. he moves your arm into the proper place and you feel his other hand place itself on your waist. as you try to focus on anything but the way his fingers press into your skin he leans his head down slightly, enough so that you can feel his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear and across your cheek.

his proximity has your heart pounding and you almost hope he can hear it, wanting him to know that what he’s doing is working. you want him to know that this is exactly what you wanted, that you wish this is how close you could have him all the time.

“right here,” he says, barely a whisper, and just as you start to lean into him, longing to be completely consumed by his warmth, he steps away and his presence is replaced by the cool air that blows through the vent above you.

you clear your throat as you try to shake away the lingering warmth his touch left against your skin and slow your heartbeat as you go back to rehearsing the movements, for real this time.

you try to ignore the smirk that paints his face as he watches you practicing, a blush painting your own cheeks that starts to match his the longer he stares.

“okay, i think i got it,” you say after a few more rounds of practice. “what do you want to do for the outro?” you ask. “or do you just want to end it after the ‘fly’?”

you turn to hongjoong who looks around the room in thought.

“we could do the ending pose from moonbeam,” he suggests, referring to the title track you’d been promoting on idol radio, and you’re taken aback for a moment.

you’re not so much shocked that he would suggest something to do with your group but that he would choose that pose specifically. it would normally involve you and eclipse’s main vocalist, gam, standing while everyone else sat around you, leaning on each other. you and gam would be staring just past each other as your right arms were tangled in front of you in a sort of love shot position.

“oh, sure,” you say taking a moment to picture you and hongjoong in that position and your blush darkens. “i guess.”

“we don’t have to,” he says, sensing your hesitation. “we can do something else.”

you shake your head as you reassure him, “no, no, it’s fine.”

hongjoong just nods and you run through the challenge once more, practicing the final pose as well and trying to not let the proximity that the pose forces you into affect your face, of course you have no control over how it affects your heart and mind.

“great,” he says, mostly to himself, before calling over the staff member who directs you where to stand and prepares the shot.

the shooting of the challenge itself goes well, you both switching easily into professional mode even if you can see his eyes watching you through the mirror the whole time. you do a few takes, allowing the company to pick whichever they deem best, before you’re done and thanking hongjoong and the staff member for their time.

“oh,” hongjoong perks up before you can begin to head out. “i got you a thank you gift for doing the challenge but i left it in my studio.” he turns to the staff member and asks, “would you mind going to grab it?”

she nods before making her way out of the room, leaving you and hongjoong alone.

your eyes follow her as she leaves but before you can even turn back to hongjoong he’s pulled you into a hug, arms wrapped securely around your waist as he looks into your eyes.

“hi,” he greets with a chuckle, absolutely beaming as you snake your hands around his shoulders.

you giggle in response, your expression mirroring his own, as you finally get to see him how you wish you had for the entire time you’d been in his presence.

“i’ve been waiting to do this for the last half hour,” he says, practically reading your mind.

“so do you actually have a thank you gift or was that just an excuse?” you ask with a tick of your head to the door where the staff member had disappeared.

he looks almost offended as you ask, a humorous disbelief shining in his eyes. “of course i have a gift,” he says and you can hear a slight whine lacing his tone.

“of course,” you say with a chuckle and a shake of your head.

“i would’ve invited you to lunch but the staff would’ve been suspicious,” he adds, “so this is the next best option.”

“i can feed myself you know,” you joke, truly more than happy to have hongjoong buy you meals.

“not if i can help it,” he insists, wrapping his arms tighter and pulling you closer.

you don’t fight against him, your chests now pressed together as you simply wade in the comfort that surrounds you both.

you debate about leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, wanting to feel the soft skin against your lips, but you don’t. instead you let your cheek fall to his shoulder, resting your head against him and letting the scent of his cologne wash over you.

“what are you doing tomorrow?” hongjoong asks, one of his hands starting to trace along your spine, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“mm,” you hum in thought as you try to remember your schedule. “we have shooting until five and then eunjae wants to watch a new movie,” you say before lifting your head from his shoulder. “why?”

he lets out a breath and his hand comes to a stop on your back, both of his hands gently holding either side of your waist. the smile he gives you seems nervous now, not quite reaching his eyes.

“i wanted to ask if you’d like to get dinner with me tomorrow night,” he explains with a gentle squeeze of your hips. “but if you’re busy we can do it a different night.”

you shake your head quickly, face red and smile as wide as your lips can manage. “eunjae can wait one more day for that movie,” you giggle and watch as his own smile grows.

his hands move from your waist and you start to pull your own arms away when his palms are suddenly on your cheeks, holding your face, and your own hands fly up to cup his. neither of you speak as you glide your hands down to wrap your fingers around his wrist gently, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his eyes flick between your own.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, trying to see any form of discomfort that might appear on your expression.

“yes,” you respond and before you even finish he’s bringing you into him, lips pressing against your own as softly as he can.

it barely lasts a second before he’s pulling away, his eyes once again searching your own for any hint as to how you’re feeling.

“again?” he asks with a smirk when he notices your lips still puckered and chasing his.

he doesn’t wait for your response this time, diving back into you with an eagerness that challenges your own.

his lips move in sync with yours, one of his hands shifting to the side of your neck and the pads of his fingers pressing into the skin there, sending a shiver down your spine that you're sure he notices by the way you feel him smile against your lips. hongjoong hums gently, the sound vibrating from his own chest to yours and causing you to melt into him further.

you try to pour all of your appreciation for him into the kiss, desperately grasping onto his biceps like he might just vanish at any moment. you hope that he can understand just what you’re trying to tell him, that in this moment, and every moment you’ve shared, he’s made you feel normal. when you were with him, talking to him, you weren’t an idol and neither was he, you were both just you, human and flawed, and in love.

he pulls away after a moment more, placing a few light pecks against your lips before separating completely, and you try to chase his lips again but his hold on your cheek keeps you in place. instead, he presses his forehead against your own, eyes closed as he focuses on steadying his breathing while you flit your gaze around his face, trying to commit each feature to memory.

after what feels like an hour of just existing in the comfortable silence that has engulfed you both, hongjoong pulls away from you, his eyes opening slowly as his hands return to your waist, your own grip on his arms loosening.

“so tomorrow?” he asks, biting his lip before you bring your thumb up to pull the flesh from between his teeth and he places a gentle peck against your finger.

“it’s a date,” you confirm, leaning in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.

he smiles and says, “i’ll text you,” before he takes a few steps back, forcing you both to separate and you immediately miss him even though he’s still stood right in front of you.

only a moment later the staff member from earlier is stepping back into the room, carrying a bag of your favorite delivery food and making a beeline to you.

you bow in thanks when she hands it to you before doing the same to hongjoong, showing your formal appreciation for the gesture, and the staff member is offering to guide you out of the building.

you’re quick to bid hongjoong goodbye, worrying that you might never leave him unless you go now, and the staff leads you back out the way you came in.

as soon as you make it back to your dorm you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, a text from hongjoong lighting up the screen.

hj<3: can i officially say i’m dating my bias?

↼ ateez masterlist

note this started as delusional texts in the group chat based on the specific instagram photos in the header and turned into this

tell me your thoughts

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lemineso · 2 years ago

Text

CRYINGNFNF

my everything ( jeon wonwoo )

wonwoo x male!reader

wonwoo prepares something special for his boyfriend.

content : 2k words, fluff, some light suggestive lines, idol!wonu x non celeb!reader

wonwoo sat in front of his laptop, eyes narrowed and brows knit together in focus. the only light in the room came from the screen and a bit from the master bathroom, as the light was left on by his now absent boyfriend.

seventeen was currently on vacation in jeju. wonwoo managed to convince their manager to let y/n come along, all of them renting out a large house on a secluded part of the beach for a week. he and y/n were in a shared master suite with a glass door overlooking the beach, while the other members shared their own rooms.

with only a day gone by of their vacation so far, wonwoo was getting more and more nervous about a plan he'd come up with weeks ago for y/n. he sighed as his sleepiness began to tug at him, removing his glasses to rub his eyes.

he was about to look back at his computer when several loud knocks came from the glass door. he jumped, quickly shutting the laptop and looking over to see jeonghan, joshua, and chan eagerly waving at him from outside. wonwoo rolled his eyes, knowing he should've expected something like this from them.

he got up and went over to unlock the door, the others letting themselves in.

"what'cha lookin' at over there??" joshua teased as he gestured to the male's now closed laptop.

"yeah, you closed that shit real fast. you got lotion somewhere? tissues?" chan added.

wonwoo rolled his eyes again at the insinuation.

"no, no. he has y/n here for that exact reason," jeonghan answered. the three of them burst into a fit of laughter while wonwoo stifled a small chuckle and shook his head.

"shut up. you guys are weird," he finally said as he went to sit back down.

"where is y/n, actually?" jeonghan asked after noticing he wasn't in the room.

"he's out with seungkwan, i think."

they all nodded at wonwoo's answer as joshua gave him a mischievous smile.

"so really, what were you doing?"

"..nothing."

"tsk. whatever you say," jeonghan pouted.

"c'mon, i'm nosy! pleeeease," joshua said again, the other two nodding along eagerly. wonwoo sighed again before finally turning in his seat and slowly opening the laptop back.

the screen lit up as the boys gathered around their groupmate, now seeing the list he'd made that was titled "proposal ideas for y/n ❤️".

"holy shit.." jeonghan muttered, his jaw falling agape.

"you're proposing to y/n??! like, marriage?!" chan screamed. wonwoo's eyes went wide as he watched all three of them basically jump out of their skin in excitement.

"wait, you're proposing here in jeju?!"

"how long have you been planning this??"

"do you have a ring for him?!"

wonwoo's heart hammered against his chest as he tried to take in all their questions and enthusiasm. he was already beyond nervous about proposing to y/n, and this was not helping.

"guys, calm.."

the others simmered down a bit, though still obviously dying to celebrate for their friend.

"alright," wonwoo began, "yes, i was planning a proposal while we're here since it's so beautiful. but now i'm second guessing how i'm gonna ask him."

the nervousness in wonwoo's voice was easy to hear, making the others become more serious.

"i'm sure what you have planned is perfect. the proposal itself is already huge as it is, you don't need to make any grand gesture," joshua comforted. the others nodded in agreement while wonwoo looked at them.

"plus, you can't really do a public proposal or anything cause people could find out.." chan said sadly.

"yeah, exactly. but i don't think a public thing would suit us anyways," wonwoo responded. "plus, i think it'll be a much more intimate experience if we're alone, y'know? and if he rejects me then no one will have to know."

"he's not gonna reject you!!" jeonghan scolded with a small hit to wonwoo's shoulder. the latter laughed and nodded.

"let's hope so.. i was planning to just take him on a walk on the beach to do it. i thought that'd be really romantic, but now i dunno.."

"oh my god, it is! do that, he'll love it!!" chan screamed again. wonwoo laughed at the male's eager energy.

"thanks for being so supportive, guys."

"wha.. of course. that's what we're here for, idiot," jeonghan responded.

"so, do you have a ring for him already?" joshua asked. wonwoo's eyes brightened, getting up again and heading toward his suitcase. before he could retrieve the ring though, the bedroom door suddenly opened to reveal his boyfriend.

"wonuuuuu!! ..oh, hey guys!"

"hey, babe. back already?" wonwoo asked. y/n skipped up to him and gave his lips a small kiss before nodding.

"mhm! we only went to get some ice cream. what're you guys doing?"

"not much, just talking," wonwoo replied, slipping his hand into y/n's. the latter smiled and nodded as he now looked at the others. joshua and jeonghan looked like they had small tears in their eyes while chan held back his excitement. y/n's brows furrowed at the unusual behavior.

"you guys okay..?"

"huh? oh, yes! we're fine!" joshua immediately answered. a nervous laugh left wonwoo's lips, now beginning to usher the three of them back outside to continue their night swim.

"g'night, brats!"

"hey, two of us are older than y-"

"good night!" wonwoo said again before closing the door completely and adjusting the curtains. he turned back to see a slightly concerned y/n with raised brows.

"that was.. odd."

wonwoo sighed and walked back over to him to take both his hands.

"they're odd," he corrected. he placed a gentle kiss on y/n's forehead before resuming, "let's get ready for bed?"

y/n smiled now and nodded happily.

"yes please."

y/n awoke the next morning to see the ceiling of his and wonwoo's temporary room. he groaned at the realization that it was already time to get up before he rolled over to cuddle closer to his boyfriend, frowning when seeing that the male wasn't there.

"wonwoo?" he called tiredly as he sat up. wonwoo's head poked out of the bathroom to see the other awake and squinting while his eyes adjusted.

"good morning, my love."

y/n's view quickly shifted to finally see him, a large smile stretching on his lips as a result.

"morning, wonu," he responded happily. wonwoo stepped out of the bathroom in only some shorts, drying his washed hair with a towel. he walked over to their bed to give y/n a deep kiss on his lips.

"wanna go on a morning walk with me?" he asked. y/n's eyes brightened at the idea. he nodded and began getting out of their bed.

"let me put my contacts in and get a shirt and we can go," wonwoo said.

"noo, you look so good just like that. hottest boyfriend ever," y/n praised, making wonwoo blush a bit as he felt the former's eyes scan his body. his broad frame and messy hair made y/n fall in love all over again. his eyes traveled from wonwoo's glasses to the print of his phone in his shorts pocket, which looked rather bulky in y/n's opinion, but he paid the thought no mind.

"alright, just a shirt then," wonwoo compromised.

"tsk, fine."

once the couple made their way onto the beach, they walked at a comfortably slow pace with connected hands, enjoying the sea breeze and clear sky. wonwoo looked over at y/n a few times while trying to think of how to start a conversation for a proposal. y/n was simply too distracting though. wonwoo found that he couldn't think straight, entranced by his partner.

y/n finally felt the other's gaze on him after a moment and looked at him. he smiled in content and squeezed wonwoo's hand.

"you okay?" y/n asked.

wonwoo looked down now. he watched the sand move with their footprints and the waves meet their skin. y/n stopped at the lack of an answer, a little worried now.

"wonwoo?"

"hm? oh yes sorry, i'm okay," he finally said. y/n was not convinced.

"do you need to talk, or..?"

wonwoo looked at him again, his mind screaming at him to just do it already.

"no no, i'm really okay, baby. just thinking," he assured. y/n nodded and gave him a satisfied grin as they began walking again.

wonwoo watched y/n's attention go back to the waves of the ocean while his hair and clothing moved with the wind. he didn't think he'd ever felt this nervous around him. it was an odd feeling, as y/n's presence had always been comforting and warm. but now, it was like wonwoo couldn't stop shaking around him.

"y/n?" he finally spoke up as they stopped again.

"hm?"

wonwoo gazed at y/n's gentle eyes and the cute smile he always got when he felt content in a certain moment. he took a deep breath and now held tightly onto his boyfriend's hands.

"i have something i want to ask you.. but i'm not exactly sure how to bring up something like this, so i'm just gonna say it."

y/n looked at him, a little nervous himself. he nodded for the other to continue.

"i'm so.. just, incredibly in love with you. i have been for years. i really can't imagine a life without you in it, by my side," wonwoo paused, letting go of y/n's hands to reach in his pocket and pull out a black ring box. y/n's jaw instantly fell as he realized what was happening.

"wonwoo," y/n was speechless, watching his boyfriend turn the open box toward him.

"y/n, will you-"

"yes."

wonwoo blinked. a smile broke onto his lips, a little in shock.

"really?"

"yes," y/n said again, trying to contain his happiness. wonwoo let the response sink in before hugging him tightly. both were smiling ear to ear as they tried to grasp the situation.

wonwoo pulled away to look at him, chuckling a bit at the happy tears leaving the other's eyes. he carefully wiped them away before their lips met passionately. this didn't last long though, as it was hard to kiss when neither could stop smiling.

"oh my god," y/n mumbled in disbelief. wonwoo laughed again and took the ring from it's box. he gave y/n another ecstatic grin as he slid the piece of jewelry onto his finger.

"does it fit okay?"

y/n looked at the engagement band while twirling it around his finger. it was a metallic black color with a matte grey strand running through the middle.

"it's a tiny bit big, but that'll be easily fixed."

wonwoo nodded, gazing at him as he admired the ring. y/n quickly looked back up at him and gave him another short kiss.

"i love you so much," wonwoo said a bit quietly. "i can't explain how much i love you, you're my everything, y/n."

"damn it, wonu, stop making me cry," y/n mumbled, wiping his eyes. he took wonwoo's hands back and and composed himself. "i love you too, more than anything."

the pair continued walking for another minute, reveling in the feeling of their new engagement. y/n's eyes soon drifted back down to their connected hands. the presence of his new ring made his heart swell. he then looked to wonwoo again, who was already looking back at him. he leaned over to give y/n another soft kiss on his temple.

"let's go back and tell the guys?" wonwoo asked eagerly. he watched excitement wash over y/n all over again.

"they're going to ruin our eardrums with their screaming," y/n joked. wonwoo snickered and nodded, swinging their hands back and forth as they began walking back toward the house.

"yeah, but it'll be worth it."

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lemineso · 2 years ago

Text

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸??

sensing disturbances in the force

m.list

aiiprn m.list

prev | next

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lemineso · 2 years ago

Text

tw: cheating

the gala has been going amazing so far. the second round of donations have only just started and you’ve already raised more than enough money for two of the featured charities of the the event.

you shuffle around the venue with a polite smile on your face as you greet several of the guests as you make your way to the appetizers bar, grabbing a small sandwich and a champagne flute. you spot mingi standing across the room, gently waving to him before walking over to him, careful not to spill your refreshments.

he smiles at you as you approach. “pretty great turn out huh?” he points out, his gaze scanning over the sea of celebrities and wealthy individuals.

you give him a nod, taking a sip of the champagne. “much bigger than last year’s,” you mumble around the rim of your glass. “we’ll definitely reach our goal of ten charities.”

mingi responds with a confident nod, a wide smile spreading across his face as he makes eye contact with san for the umpteenth time tonight. you couldn’t help the sly grin that crawls onto your face as you take notice of the light flush painting his tan cheeks.

the taller man had been going back and forth between helping keep the event on track and sitting with san and wooyoung. while no one would find it too weird that san lets his secretary sit with him and his boyfriend, you knew just how big of a deal it was, for mingi at least. your conversation with wooyoung left you a bit unsure just how deep him and his boyfriend’s feelings for mingi went, but you were sure it would work out. san is a romantic at heart and wooyoung would end up flirting until he actually catches feelings, so you had no doubt that the three would end up together.

“go over there,” you suddenly say, surprising mingi for a second as he turns to you in confusion. realization crosses his face as he watches you nod your head to the couple. “go. i’ll cover for you,” you smile before he could protest. with a tiny nudge from you, he nervously makes his way over, fiddling with his suit jacket as he walks.

you sigh in content as you watch san greet the younger man with a bright smile and wooyoung with a cheshire grin.

“they are so very cute and stupid,” you chuckle quietly to yourself.

“oh thank god, i found you.”

the sudden voice behind you makes you jump, almost spilling your champagne as you turn to face the person who almost gave you a heart attack.

your shoulders remain tense as you’re greeted with the sight of your boss, a small smile dancing across his face.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you,” hongjoong apologizes, his eyes darting to your suit to make sure you hadn’t gotten any of your drink on it.

“it’s alright. i was the one who was distracted,” you wave him off, downing the rest of your drink to prevent any future messes. you turn back to your three friends, finding them laughing and joking with each other. “did you need me for something?” you ask, setting your now empty flute on a table. you’d take it back to the kitchen later.

“just some company,” hongjoong sighs, looking out over the party as he moves to stand next to you. “yujin ditched me to hang out with her friends and i’m in a bit of a rough patch with mine right now,” he laments quietly, his gaze a bit sad, “didn’t want to spend majority of the gala alone or kissing corporate asses.” you snicker involuntarily at the last comment, covering your mouth and turning away from your employer, effectively missing the soft look he gives you.

you clear your throat, turning back to hongjoong, “well i’d be happy to keep you company while you wait for your speech,” you reply gently, beaming politely at the ceo. “wouldn’t want you feeling lonely at your own party.”

hongjoong hums his appreciation and you could almost swear you see a light flush on his face but as soon as you blink, it disappears. you just chalk it up the lighting or champagne.

“i appreciate that. i know you’d probably rather spend your free time with your friends and not your boss,” the young ceo chuckles, his smile soft.

you simply shake your head. “i see my friends everyday. they won’t miss me if i hang out with you for a couple of hours.” that gets a shy smile out of him that makes your heart stutter in you chest.

you both chat about general work topics, mostly about the gala and your hopes of achieving the company’s goal of donating to ten of the charities in this years line up, before a soft rumble emits from hongjoong.

“sorry,” he’s bashful, his lips pulled into a small grin as he places a hand on his stomach, “i haven’t eaten much besides that sandwich you gave me earlier.” he seems to feel as if it’s not too big of a deal until he looks at your face and is met with a fairly terrifying glare.

“you’re almost as bad as mingi,” you grumble quietly, missing the breathy giggle from the older man as you grab his wrist and pull him to the buffet table. it seems all professionalism you had was thrown out the window as you quickly fix hongjoong a plate of grilled vegetables, rice, and chicken, gently handing it to him as you grab his wrist once more to lead him to the table you both were originally standing next to. you pull out a chair, gesturing for him to sit when you finally look back at him.

he had the widest and brightest smile in the world as he held back his laughter, free hand covering his mouth. your eyes widen in realization.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry mr. kim-“

“it’s fine,” he cuts you off with a chuckle, taking a seat after he sets the plate down. “you just reminded me of seonghwa. he used to do the exact same thing to me back in school.

“still i shouldn’t act so unprofessional. you literally sign off on my paychecks,” you groan, hands covering your face.

he waves you off. “i’m not gonna fire you over something like this. especially because that would mean i’d have fire san,” his chest fills with pride at the snort that gets out of you, “it’s fine, really.”

you let the breath you were unaware that you were holding, shoulders finally relaxing as you sit down with hongjoong, continuing to chat until one of the curators announces him for his speech.

adrenaline is rushing through hongjoong’s veins, his mind moving a million miles a minute. he was practically vibrating with excitement. treasure reached its goal of getting ten charities over a hundred billion won in donations. and in the middle of his speech too!

hongjoong had to pause just to take in the fact that he had just hit his biggest goal since starting treasure. he didn’t even finish the last of his planned speech, completely improvising his closing statements to highlight the accomplishment his beloved company just made. the cheers of the crowd filled his ears, san being the most prominent among them as he had ran onto stage shortly after hongjoong finished speaking, tackling him with a hug as he congratulated his friend continuously.

he had turned his gaze to the left finding you and mingi celebrating as well, you basically jumping in place as you looked at the screen showing the charity and its donation amount. he couldn’t help the way his eyes traveled across your face, taking in the large grin and the apples of your cheeks, the look of absolute joy gracing your features and mingi shakes you by your shoulders.

god, you looked stunning.

but you weren’t his to look at.

and he was painfully reminded of that when yunho joins you and mingi on stage, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips in congratulations. you look to him in awe, your bright eyes turning away from the screen to stare at the man before you.

hongjoong looked away before his heart could turn in on itself. figured if he didn’t pay it any mind, then the feeling would go away

however, that was around twenty minutes ago and the feeling is still very present. so he decides to seek out his beloved girlfriend to share the amazing news with.

at least that’s what he tells himself.

the young ceo wanders the hall of the museum they had rented for the venue, in search of his partner. he knew she wasn’t in the banquet hall as that was where the gala was officially being held.

“she must have run off somewhere with her friends,” he thinks to himself, walking up the stairs.

hongjoong stops when he hears what sounds like her voice, quickly following it to the end of the hall. he arrives in front of a door, eagerly opening it, ready to greet his girlfriend and share this lifelong milestone he and his company just achieved.

only to pause at the sight he’s met with.

yujin, sitting half naked on top of her friend and fellow influencer, zico, who was in a similar state of undress.

it’s only then that he realizes that the sounds he heard were her moans and gasps of pleasure. which he could still hear as they hadn’t bothered to stop yet.

“what the fuck,” he breathes, seemingly loud enough to catch the attention of zico, who looks over and almost chokes on his spit at the sight of hongjoong standing in the door.

this makes yujin halt her movements, an annoyed twitch of her lips as she gets ready to ask what’s taken zico’s attention from her before following his gaze.

and she looks as if she was about to shit herself when her eyes meet hongjoong’s.

she gapes at him dumbly as she remains planted on zico’s lap, evidently still processing her boyfriend’s presence.

“joongie—,” the nickname feels like poison coming from her now, tears of anger welling up in hongjoong’s eyes as his hands quiver. “joongie wait—,”

he doesn’t let her finish before he’s bolting down the hall, his footsteps quick as his dress shoes click on the linoleum floor. as he reaches the ground floor, he’s bombarded with press asking him questions about the donations and what this means for the company and who he’s wearing and if he’d be celebrating with yujin.

hongjoong holds back the sob at the mention of her name, pushing his way through the sea of journalists as he makes his way to the door. he manages to get to the door, quickly opening it and slipping through. leaning against the door and taking a deep breath through his nose, he does his best to keep himself from breaking down right then.

god, all he wanted to do was cry. to just let go of all the emotional stress and anguish he’s been holding onto the last couple of weeks.

but he has a party to host.

yet the thought of going back out there with all those people, with all the journalists and paparazzi, with her…

it made him sick to his stomach.

so he called the one person he knew could calm him down.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸??

what the fuck

m.list

aiiprn m.list

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a/n: let the mess begin >:)

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lemineso · 2 years ago

Text

good boy gone bad | 26

so much can happen in so little time

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a/n: "we should get back on track soon" he says, leaving this for exactly an entire month SDFJKGSDFK for some reason writers block for this series specifically hit me like a truck and i ended up writing every Other wip i have except this... till now, hallelujah! sorry its rly messy it was done across multiple sittings and i was tryna get thru a bunch of things before moving onto the written part, which will be next!

...i apologise in advance for how long that's gonna take. ☠

taglist: @jaxavance @fiantomartell @roulette010 @jcngh0-hq @remiee @syunderful @absentcaryatid @yunho-leeknow @inarizqkis @pastelsicheng @john-joong @i-dont-know-me-either @xavi-in-kpopland @beautifulcolorgarden (pls lmk if the tags working or not lmfao and lmk your thoughts :))) )

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lemineso · 2 years ago

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what goes on in neverland. ⇝ aftercare, aftershocks, and the aftermath

word count: 8.9k

pairings: transmasc!reader x Everyone, everyone x everyone (its literally too convoluted for me to try type them out here anymore just see the masterlist for full pairings LOL)

genre: e2l, f2l, smut, fluff and lots of assorted shenanigans. hijinks, if you will

au: battle of the bands!au but make it gay and horny

warnings: nothing really? discussions of top surgery scars and gender identity?

a/n: noticed a lot of chan likers after the last chapter... yall gonna love this one :)

tags: @honeybyunnies @syunderful @absentcaryatid @mingirn (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

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Waking up in the bed of your biggest competitive rival is definitely, to say the least, sobering.

You’re not surprised to find the bed empty next to you, but you are more surprised to find yourself still there. Staying the night was never on the agenda, but neither was really submitting to him, so you suppose compromises were made. The memories flood you with the uncomfortable kind of heat now that the lustful haze has faded, and you are left with nothing but the searing humiliation at how easily you played into his hands.

Who really won there? You really thought you had him for a moment back there, pressed against the wall and shutting you up in the exact way you wanted him to. It was all going so damn well. He seemed so close to breaking then, you saw his subtle blush and the hitches in his breath, the way he leaned into your touch rather than away from it, the way he had to kiss you to shut you up because he knew you were right. He was enjoying you playing with him, he was excited at the prospect of you having a go at him, what fucking happened to all of that?

Was that an act? Letting you have your moment so it can be even more satisfying when he gets to shut it down? Did he find you cute then, too? Or was it that goddamn golden boy, did he want to seem nicer in front of him still? Did he not want poor little freckles to see him be mean?

Illuminated by only the dim coloured light atop Chan’s bed – a warm yellow-orange, now – you wince as you roll over and check the time. 1:47am, your phone says, which isn’t that long after you would’ve finished, considering the time when you arrived there already. God, he really did take his time with edging you – but before you could wonder where exactly he went, he comes back in with a bottle of something in hand and all his make-up washed off.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

“Were you about to do something to me while I was–?!“

“Shh,” he whispers, putting a finger to his lips, “You’ll wake up the rachas if you start yelling. They’re deep sleepers, but not that deep.”

He seems far too calm for someone who could have been caught doing something dastardly or nefarious, so your mouth falls shut, and he opens the bottle and pours some oil on his fingers. You notice the label on the bottle then, soothing massage oil – and after warming it up in his palms, he gestures for you to turn over.

“What?”

“Turn around. On your stomach if you want, but you can also stay sitting up.”

“Why?”

He snorts, nodding at your wrists. “You were bound for a long time. Are you not sore?”

When he says it out loud, you are no longer able to ignore the aching pain in your shoulders, wrists, and your back as well, from being stuck in such a position for so long. While you’re no stranger to aches and pains, whether it be for BDSM related reasons or pole dancing, it definitely doesn’t make sleep any easier, and probably what woke you up.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“Come on then. Turn around.” His voice doesn’t carry any sternness, nor does it even hold much impatience, simply just having a task he plans on accomplishing and getting straight to the point. You comply.

His hands on you are gentle, but firm, pressing down at the tightness in your back with enough pressure to make you moan softly, but he doesn’t so much as make a snarky comment about it. He’s surprisingly silent as he works, focused on the task at hand, and you wouldn’t mind the change of pace if not for how hyperaware it makes you of every sound you make.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, “you don’t need to hold back that much. The walls are thick enough.”

“It’s not the rachas I’m worried about,” you mutter, uncharacteristically self-conscious despite not even facing him, but you can’t deny his massage feels good. When his skilled ministrations slow down to a halt, you cast a glance at him over your shoulder.

He’s smiling at you.

“What, worried ‘bout little ol’ me?”

You whip back around with such ferocity your neck audibly cracks. “Asshole.”

He chuckles lightly, then gets back to massaging your shoulders, a little gentler this time. “I’m not big enough of an asshole to tease you during aftercare, tough guy. You can relax.”

Aftercare? It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, having done similar acts of aftercare yourself and having received it more times than you can count, but something about receiving it from Chan of all people is puzzling. Last time you checked, you were having hate sex. Not that you hate him, really, that would be a pretty strong sentiment you currently only really hold for Felix by merit of him being Eric’s flaky ex-boyfriend, but you don’t exactly like him, either. Well, you like pissing him off, and you like competing with him, and you like getting reactions out of him, and maybe you like his artistry as well, but that’s about as far as it goes.

Oh, and you like his body, too, that’s a big one. The way his hands work the tension out of your shoulders is positively divine. Suppose he’s a pretty face, too. All up until he opens that big mouth of his.

“You say that, then you teasingly call me tough guy again. All men do is lie, huh?”

“Tch, you’re one to talk,” he scoffs, pressing harder with his massage, but not too hard, so it’s welcomed. “Besides, I wasn’t teasing. You’re tough.”

You wait for him to elaborate on that, but after a long moment of silence staring at the figurines on his headboard and the flickering triangular lights above it, you realise that was where his comment ended.

“…Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” he hums simply, definitively, then shifts you on the bed to turn back around and face him again so he can take your wrists and begin massaging the oil into them too. He doesn’t even so much as spare your face a glance, but it’s not avoidant. It’s focused, and just a little bit tired, too, you realise, noticing the crease in his brow.

You frown. Something about the silence feels so damn intimate – even more so than the actions itself, which you suppose are just him going on automatic after dominating someone. After all, giving aftercare is often the aftercare in itself for dominants, too, so maybe he’s doing this for himself as well.

He pauses to look up at you. “Got something on my face?”

As intimate as the silence felt, getting caught staring is far, far worse.

“Yeah,” you snort, throwing up snark as a reflex, “Ugly.”

It’s a bit harsh, you think, and the way he cocks his head makes you think he’s disguising a wince, but he looks back down at your wrists as he continues to massage them anyway.

“You wouldn’t be in my bed right now if you really thought I was ugly.”

He’s right.

“You’re right,” you echo, not really wanting that to be the hill you die on anyway when you both know its not true. That isn’t a good look on you, either. “It was a joke. I don’t sleep with ugly guys.”

“I know.”

He wraps up and pulls away, and you find yourself missing his touch as soon as it leaves you. Which is odd, because once again, you don’t even particularly like him, nor were you even expecting aftercare, and he’s already doing more for you than you would’ve bothered doing for him.

Or that you did for Felix.

The silence stretches on, and that thought grows louder. Is that what this is? Considering how Lino obviously told Felix what you messaged him, you wouldn’t be surprised if Felix told everyone else about your night at the Prism in excruciating detail, too. Based on how Chan acted with you tonight, it seemed far too deliberate for that to not have been the case. The look he gave Eric while kissing up on your neck? Hell, he had to have seen that. That’s right, he was there, he must have seen it and–

“Feeling a bit better? Want me to massage anywhere some more?”

His face is as open as you’ve ever seen it, expecting to hear a genuine response. There’s no more attitude, no more competition, no more sexual tension – despite the fact that you’re both still half naked, you in only the unbuttoned shirt you didn’t take off before he bound your wrists, and him still gloriously shirtless, just sitting in his underwear. He looks a lot less intimidating without his make-up on anymore, either, the softness of his features really bleeding through, and without such a cocky expression either, he looks like a whole different person.

The lingering soreness is more of the pleasant kind, now that he’s worked his magic, but you nod anyway. Just so you don’t have to look at him again. You shift back around. “My back’s still pretty sore, actually.”

You feel the bed shift behind you as he shuffles onto his knees, and presses a hand between your shoulder blades to push you down, and you lie onto your stomach without a word.

“Does that hurt?”

“What?” He already lifted his hand, he can’t possibly think he shoved you too hard. Is your back supposed to hurt while lying on your stomach after being bound like that? “Um, yeah. Kinda.”

“Your scar, I mean,” he says plainly, blinking at you dumbly when you peer over your shoulder again to look at him. “I mean I know it’s healed, at least, it looks healed enough, but still, pressure on such a large wound…”

“Oh, that- that’s fine,” you reassure him, plopping your head back down on the mattress and letting your eyes fall shut. “Bed’s soft. Didn’t even think about it.”

“Alright.” He throws a leg over you to straddle your hips, this time massaging your lower back as well, and while you asked him to continue mostly just because it felt nice, you now realise how much tension you had down there, too. “Can I ask how you got it?”

“My scar?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know what top surgery scars look like, but that looks a bit more violent. Makes me wonder if it was something else.”

“Ah.” You fall quiet, not really sure what to say. That you asked for it to be that way? Doesn’t really sound all that impressive when you put it like that. He’d probably ask why, too, and you aren’t sure how you would explain that to him, either.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says, stopping only to crack his knuckles and pour more massage oil onto his palms before resuming the massage, “Was just curious.”

“You said it was pretty,” you breathe out, not daring to open your eyes and look at him. “Guess you’re not bad at dirty talk, huh. Suppose it is pretty violent looking in reality. I like it that way, though.”

He pauses – his words, not his hands – for a short beat before responding. “Pretty and violent aren’t mutually exclusive, you know. There can be beauty in violence, sometimes.”

“Yeah?” you huff. “Sounds like something a pretty violent person would say.”

He presses down extra hard on your shoulder and you grunt, knowing it was entirely on purpose. “Says you, tough guy. You’re a little menace.”

“Who you calling little? First freckles, now you – you guys sure do like pulling the height card for a bunch of garden gnomes. Glad to have someone shorter than you for a change? Congrats, he’s not even a cis man.”

“What do you identify as, by the way? Do you consider yourself a man, or...?” Chan asks genuinely, once again dodging your attempts at provocation. He’s getting quite good at this, and that bothers you, because provoking him was the entire fun of him, but you suppose now is too nice of a moment to really push it.

“Man enough. Man sometimes. On Tuesdays, maybe. On Wednesdays I’m just a gendery enigma.”

He chuckles. “What about Thursdays?”

“Hmm. Guy, but in the same way you call an animal friend you find on the street a little guy, y’know? Just a dude.”

His signature giggles are back, and you find yourself smiling and cracking your eyes back open before you even realise it, hazy. You can’t remember the last time you felt this relaxed since the whole competition started.

“And on Fridays?”

You yawn loudly, letting your eyes flutter shut again as sleep threatens to tug away at you once again, but you know you won’t fall properly asleep while he’s still touching you. “Gender on Fridays… that’s between me and God.”

He laughs properly at that, catching himself quickly and keeping it quiet as to not disturb his roommates, but you feel an oddly swelling sense of pride at being able to make him laugh like that. Maybe he won this game of wits you played in bed, but he can’t deny you’re at least funny.

“Alright, I’m getting tired,” he yawns as well, rolling off you and flopping back onto the bed next to you. It’s only then when you notice the bright red lines adorning his back, and gasp at the sight.

“Holy shit, Chan, your back.”

“Yeah?” He looks over his shoulder at you with a simultaneously sheepish and smug grin. “Suppose you didn’t get a good view before, huh?”

“No, I’m not— okay, I am appreciating the view, but dude, I basically mauled your back, does that not sting?”

He wrinkles his nose, twisting his torso this way and that experimentally. “A bit. It’s not bad, though.”

After he took care of you so gently, you find yourself wanting to take care of him at least just a little – just to even the playing field, so he can’t chastise you for not knowing safe kink practices, or otherwise flip it on you somehow. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when you get up and ask him if he has any ointment for it.

“Ointment?”

“Yeah, like an antibiotic cream, or something. I broke skin, Chan. There’s a bit of blood. The least you should do is get it cleaned so it doesn’t get infected, especially if you’re gonna sleep without a shirt.”

He yawns again, stretching out and then wincing slightly, no doubt at the fresh scars adorning his back now. “Get it cleaned, huh? I don’t suppose you’ll do it for me?”

You bite at the inside of your cheek. “Is this a test?”

“A test? No, it’s a question. Do I have to get up and do it myself or can I stay here?”

“...Where’s the ointment? Or should I just use water?”

“Bathroom’s around the left corner, in the cabinet behind the mirror.”

It’s exactly where he said it was, so you return with a damp cloth and ointment in hand, and seat yourself behind him on the bed. This is certainly not your first time tending to your own scratch marks – or claw marks, as Kevin likes to call them, joking that the band are your scratching posts – so you fall into the process rather quickly. A gentle wipe-down before applying the cream, that’s all it is, you could do it in your sleep.

Your heart is beating out of your chest like it’s about to erupt.

You know why. It’s not a Chan thing, you know that for sure – it’s the same when taking care of your bandmates, too, as there is something so sacred about the whole process that’s almost tender. It’s the vulnerability of it all, and you’ve since gotten more adjusted to it with the others, but without any trust built between you and Chan, it feels significantly more potent than usual. Risky, almost.

Maybe it is a Chan thing.

Silence drags on and neither you nor Chan do anything about it. Out of tiredness, probably. You wouldn’t call it entirely comfortable silence, though; for some reason, tending to him feels even more vulnerable than him giving you the massage. You suppose you can’t really keep pretending like you hate him while you’re treating the wounds on his back that you inflicted, and you’re not sure what this means, anymore. You don’t know what any of this means, or how you’re supposed to be feeling about this.

“There,” you finish, closing the cap on the cream shut. “All done.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, shifting around on the bed to get a better look at you, and you find yourself unable to hold his gaze. He shrugs and simply flops down onto the bed. “’Think I’m gonna go sleep now… oh wait, did you want like, undies or something–“

You snort. Undies. “You’re not kicking me out?”

He tilts his head up just enough to drowsily stare at you in confusion. “No? Not when you look like you’re about to melt right into my mattress. But hey, if you wanna uber home or something, go for it. I’m not keeping you here.”

He rolls over, slipping under the blankets and curling himself around a large pillow. Cute, you think. He looks even smaller like this. You wonder how you must look for him to make such a comment, how much of the number he did on you is visible, but you know you won’t get any sleep tonight if you stop to check in the mirror now.

“Yeah, I’ll take you up on the undies.”

“Aight.” He yawns again, stretches, clearly falling asleep already as he grabs you a spare pair of boxer briefs and tosses them at you as he slides back into bed. Once your shirt is on the floor and you are under the blankets with him, you find yourself subconsciously gravitating towards his side of the bed for warmth, to which he responds by turning over and draping himself over you instead of the pillow. It reminds you so much of sleeping with Sunwoo, Eric or Mingi that you find yourself lulled right back to sleep at a record speed.

If waking up in the bed of your rival was sobering, waking up in the arms of your rival is like a bucket of cold water to the face.

What is worse is that it takes you far too long to realise it, at first. Sleeping with strong arms around you is your norm, so you don’t really question it as your sleep-fogged brain slowly starts turning its gears, and you practically jolt when you pull your head back and realise you’re snuggled up to the one and only Bang Chan and pointedly not one of your bandmates.

“You’re not Sunwoo,” you blubber out, sliding away from him on the bed, and Chan just drearily groans and rolls over, pulling your half of the blanket with him.

“No. M’not.”

He stays still there, so you suppose this is your cue to get out, make your walk of shame, et cetera. Not that it was ever really a shameful walk for you, it being more like a walk in pride at the accomplishment of the notches in your belt, but Chan being who he is and his roommates being who they are make you finally understand why they called it the walk of shame in the first place.

“Where y’goin?” he mumbles, peeking out at you over his blanket as you start picking your clothes back up and getting dressed – still in his underwear with yours discarded on the floor somewhere, but at this point you consider leaving it behind as a prize, just so you can get out of there quicker.

“Where do you think? Home. Unless you’re up for round two? I’m warning you, I won’t go easy on you this time.”

Chan laughs out loud, wide and bright and fucking humiliating. You threatened him and he’s laughing at you. You scramble to get your things quicker. You need to leave, and you need to leave now, before you can dig your own grave even deeper.

“Have brekkie before you leave, at least!”

You pause to gawk at him, curly hair now free from its chemical restraints and sticking out in every which direction, his softer face illuminated by the morning sun. Who is this man?

“Breakfast? Seriously?”

He stares back at you like you are the one out of your mind.

“Yes? Do you not usually have breakfast? It’s the most important meal of the day, you know.”

“I pissed you off, tossed you around, let you bring me home and fuck my brains out, and now you’re making me breakfast? Chan, do you like me or something?” you guffaw, the only reasonable conclusion you can come up with using the limited brainpower you have access to before noon. Seriously, who the fuck does mornings these days? It was either that, or he’s trying to kill you with kindness and make you feel bad. Ha. Like he could ever.

Chan furrows his brow, recoiling in mild disgust and confusion. “No? God, is that what you think? I’m literally just being a good host. You stayed the night, I had my way with you, now I take care of you. It’s not rocket science, y’know.”

It’s not rocket science, he says, but trying to make sense of him is looking more and more like a complicated algebra equation you failed in math before dropping out. Why does he feel the need to take care of you? You’re not his responsibility. He doesn’t owe you anything. You were mean to him on purpose and he knows it, so he might as well have tossed you out on the curb as soon as he got off. Maybe called you an Uber if he wanted to be a gentleman. But this?

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I just said why! Have you never had someone be nice to you before, or something?”

“Wh– of course I’ve had people be nice to me before, I’m not that pathetic,” you scoff, folding your arms. “Just not after I’ve gone out of my way to aggravate them on purpose.”

Chan just snorts. “Maybe you should stop aggravating me on purpose, then.”

“So that’s what this is!” The final piece of the puzzle clicks into place, and you stare him down intently – or maybe that’s just the morning glare in your eyes. “You’re trying to kill me with kindness, aren’t you? Think being a good host will make me go easy on you? Smart, but I have less of a conscience than you seem to think I do–“

“God, a man can dream, I guess! No,” he sighs your name in the most exasperated tone you’ve ever heard from him, “this isn’t some evil plan to take you down as a competitor, I’m literally just being nice. Because I like being nice to people. Is that really so hard to believe?”

“You don’t have a reason to be nice to me. I sure as hell ain’t nice to you! Every time I think you’ve grown some backbone you–“

“Oh please, that is not what you were saying last night,” he interrupts, finally starting to lose his cool. Good. You hate fighting him when he’s so clear-headed. “You wanna be so tough and scary so bad, but you insisted on cleaning my wounds before bed–“

“Oh my god, you are in love with me, aren’t you?”

Whether you actually think Chan harbours any sort of romantic feelings for you leans heavy towards no, but the accusation is one you can think of very few people who wouldn’t get a rise out of. Not to mention how funny it is to see them flounder to prove themselves just for you to twist everything they say against them.

“In love with you? Are you seriously that self-obsessed? No, no– I’m not falling for that, you know I’m already–“ he cuts himself off this time, realising the hole he just dug, but it’s too late.

“So you are in love with Felix, you admit it!” you cackle victoriously, clapping like a seal. “You’re right, we already knew, but I sure wonder if Felix does. What was his Instagram tag again? Lix something?”

“Sure, go ahead and tell him, like he’d believe you,” Chan huffs, “You’re not subtle either, tough guy! ‘You’re not Sunwoo!’ Hm, I wonder why you’re thinking about waking up in his arms.”

“We sleep together, genius,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes, “the entire band, we all sleep together, I did not think any of us were subtle about that.”

“I know that, but why is it Sunwoo’s name specifically you think of first thing in the morning, huh?”

Fuck. Why is it Sunwoo? As soon as you ask yourself that, your recent conversations flash through your mind, and you sure as hell are not about to let Chan of all people know about that.

“Because your arms felt like his, it’s not that deep!”

“I don’t mean this in a body-shaming way, but his arms are like half the size of mine. I’m not exactly convinced.”

“Then don’t be! I have nothing to prove to you.”

“You really don’t! So why do you keep acting like you do have something to prove to me every time we meet?”

His words slice through you like a hot knife through butter, and it takes a second too long to come up with a response. He’s right. You fucking hate when he’s right, and you would sooner edit a Wikipedia article to win an argument against someone when you’re in the wrong than admit it to him.

He sighs. “I don’t get why you have such a raging hate boner towards us. I know Eric has beef with Felix and we’re neck and neck in the Battle of the Bands, and you get your kicks out of provoking people, but you seem to think that I – or the other guys too, for that matter – would act against you if you slipped up enough to give us a chance to. But we’re not like that.”

We’re not like you, is the unspoken message there, but you hear it loud and clear. “Why wouldn’t you? Felix still has something to prove, that much I can tell for certain. Lino was quick to spill my secrets as soon as he had them. Hell, Changbin threw me over a table for something entirely consensual and even went as far as to slut-shame all of us. Like, riddled with diseases? Really? You’re no better than we are just because we actually own up to being assholes, you just lack the self awareness.”

Chan tilts a brow up at you, then it furrows into a puzzled expression. “This is what I mean about you bringing out the worst in people. Lino went for it because he knew you’d definitely do the same, and Changbin... he doesn’t start fights as often as you’d think he does based off of your experiences with him. They’re usually justified. Though I will admit the slut-shaming wasn’t, he was just trying to get some sort of edge over you since he didn’t know you knew about Hyunjin’s career. He’s actually done sex work in the past too, got his fair share of STI’s, it’s not an insult that comes from a place of actual prejudice.”

“Oh, so its all blatant hypocrisy then! Wow, that’s sooo much better, you guys are such morally-correct heroes.”

He rolls his eyes so hard you think he got a glimpse of his brain, then pinches the bridge of his nose in barely concealed frustration. “Okay, yes, sure, he’s a hypocrite! I’ll admit to that! But you’ve had something to prove since before any of that happened, so I’m just wondering why exactly you expected us – why you expected me – to be some sort of villain from the get-go! Why do you want me to be the bad guy so bad when I’m just trying to be nice to you and make you some goddamn breakfast?!”

You see he has reached his wits end, and it’s no longer a noble attempt to defend his team but a cry for help to save himself. You knew your verbal spars had more behind them than he tries to act, but now he can’t pretend like he’s their infallible shield anymore. Nor can he pretend his little posse are all virtuous saints. In a way, you finally won, you made him crack.

So why does it feel so much like losing?

“Because I just don’t get why you don’t,” you confess in an aggravated sigh, “Other people would! I’d argue that you should, given it all! It feels— it feels wrong to have you just, clean me up and make me breakfast when we’re not even friends! We don’t even like each other! Like, this goes above and beyond even for just a Tinder hookup!”

Chan barks out a dry laugh. “It’s like you really can’t comprehend the concept of someone being nice to you. Have you never had someone properly take care of you before?”

“I have! My band take care of me better than I could even ask for. But that’s the difference, they’re mine. They’re my band, I mean, we have a bond even deeper than family, we take care of each other because we love each other. What reason do you have to take care of me of all people? I haven’t given you a single reason to and yet, you do anyway.”

“You think people need a hard-earned reason to be nice to you?” Chan remarks back at you, and it shocks something deep inside you with an ice-cold chill. Yes? Maybe? That would sound stupid if you say it out loud. Would it? It makes so much sense to you, though. People can be nice without reason sometimes, but not to people who don’t deserve it.

Not to people like you.

“I... I’m not saying people can only be nice to people once they’ve done something to earn it, I just mean that people aren’t usually nice to people who have given them a reason – or in my case, multiple reasons – not to be. If someone hurts the people I love, I’m not making them breakfast, I’m kicking them to the curb when I’m done.”

“I know,” Chan deadpans, no doubt thinking about Felix too. “That’s where we differ then, I guess. I don’t filter who I’m nice to based off of some invisible tally of who deserves it or who doesn’t. I choose to be kind because it’s how I want to be, not because it’s what someone does or doesn’t deserve. I’d like to say that all people deserve kindness, but even I cave and deliberately deny people of that sometimes. I’m only human, yeah? We all are. Even you. So I’m not sure why you’ve convinced yourself you’re so unworthy of my kindness that you lash out at me for it. Have you been wronged that much?”

He says it so casually and gets up to wash his face in the connected bathroom like he didn’t just cover you in paper cuts then drop you in a pool of lemonade and salt. Have you been wronged that much? Hell, have you been wronged by that many? You think back to your family, then your former friends, their friends, your peers. You think about your band, all runaways or renegades from similar surroundings, and the safety you found in them being like-minded individuals. How you all met because you were all so scorned taking the road not taken, so driven yet so lost.

Society has a way of chewing you up and spitting you back out into more pieces than you started off in, then expecting you to pick them up and glue them back together yourself, as if you are the one who did it. That’s just how life is; there is no childhood without hardship, no adult without trauma, despite the best efforts of many and the lack of effort of many more. Everyone has their own demons to fight, all while fighting for their lives in the blender that is late-stage capitalism and man-made prejudice.

You know all this. Yet when Chan asks, ‘Have you been wronged that much?’ Part of you thinks that all of that is bullshit and somehow you and your band have ended up being through hell and back for no other damn reason than drawing the short straw in the hand dealt to the rest of the world.

“I don’t... I...”

You struggle to find words for the emotions you are feeling – rage, grief, sadness, bitterness, envy, but there’s something else in the muddled pit of them all that doesn’t quite fit with the others. Hope, maybe? That’s a dangerous emotion, but that’s rarely stopped you before. You wouldn’t be where you are today without it. Fear? Closer, but what for? Relief? At what?

Chan walks back out of the bathroom with a hand towel around his neck, then right past you towards the kitchen.

“Come on. I’m making pancakes.”

Feeling like you don’t have much of a choice not to – or a reason not to, for that matter – you follow him, plopping yourself wordlessly down on a stool on the outer side of the counter.

He doesn’t say more as he takes out the ingredients and gets to work, a simple recipe but nonetheless homemade compared to the pre-made pancake mixes you use back home. You take the chance to observe your surroundings, spacious yet rather cluttered with the various belongings of the multiple men in the household, and that is when you remember you two are not the only occupants currently home.

“Are the others still asleep?” you ask, and he just shrugs while pouring batter onto a fry pan.

“Probably. We’re not usually up before noon, but I’ll make some for them to have for lunch.”

“Did I wake you, then?”

“Yeah. But it’s fine. I got more sleep last night than usual, honestly.”

It will never not be jarring to you, the difference in the kind of conversations you have with Chan. You’re either arguing with blades drawn, or you’re laid completely bare with nothing but an emergency razor blade hidden under a band-aid on you, conversing like you actually know each other. Like there’s any sort of closeness or trust between you. You don’t know if that is just because you’re more used to fighting him than not, or because something about Chan with his guard down makes you feel even more exposed than ever, or if it’s the things he’s done and said in the past twelve or so hours that changed the air between you. There’s discomfort in how comfortable it is, a juxtaposition you have no idea how you got to.

“Don’t get much sleep, huh?”

He nods, scarred back still facing you as he cooks. “Not usually. I tend to stay up late until I’m exhausted enough to maybe catch some sleep when I finally go to bed, then try to sleep on and off until it gets too hot at noon and I just give up. Well, not all the time, I do get uninterrupted sleep some nights, but the staying up super late and getting up late is pretty consistent. So yesterday I went to bed kinda early.”

“2am kinda early, huh?” you snort, and he chuckles.

“Yeah. Earlier than five, at least.”

The relatively comfortable silence from last night returns, and you find you don’t hate it as much this time. It’s still rather foreign, but not as deeply unsettling as it was before, so you are content to just take in the view of his half-naked form cooking a gigantic stack of pancakes until he finally plates and serves.

“Eat up, then.”

You do.

You have been dreading returning home since the moment Eric threw his little fit last night, so you are already bracing yourself for metaphorical impact – the impact being rancid vibes more than anything else – from the very moment you open the front door to your apartment.

What you find instead, is a messy-haired Han with the buttons on his shirt done up one buttonhole too low, skewing the whole symmetry of the shirt sideways. If the bruises on his jaw and neck are any indicator, you’d guess this is Sunwoo, Wooyoung, or maybe San’s handiwork, but given that it’s your apartment he’s coming out of, you put your money on Sunwoo.

“Damn. You too huh—”

“I was just leaving!” he blurts out, shoving past you and speed-walking away while still putting on his layered jackets, and you snort and close the door behind you.

“Let me guess, that was the work of one man starting with a ‘Sun’ and ending with a ‘woo.’”

“You know it!”

He calls back at you from the kitchen, and you realise the mop of dark hair you spotted on the couch is not him and his permed curls, but simply Wooyoung’s atrocious bed hair. Or maybe sex hair. Could be either or, with him. Walking into better view, you notice the whole band is here already, seemingly waiting for you with Eric standing between the two couches expectantly.

“Ah good, you’re finally here!”

He sounds less than thrilled, and the rest of the band don’t seem all that excited either, barring Sunwoo’s aura of smugness at having his plaything leave moments prior. The tension in the room is palpable, like mugginess on a humid day, except the windows are wide open and the constant drone of the fan on in the background makes the would-be silence even louder somehow.

“Oh boy,” you groan, “if you’re going to grill us all on sleeping with the enemy, frankly I do not want to hear it.”

“You think I wanted to hear Jisung screaming out Sunwoo’s name repeatedly last night and calling him oppa?” Eric guffaws, as if that’s somehow your fault. You take a quick glance at the man in question, who only looks even more proud of himself, so you snicker at him.

“Wow, nice.”

“No, not nice, what the fuck you guys! Is there anyone here who didn’t fuck a stray kid last night?!”

“Huh?”

You look around the room at the others, only thinking you and Sunwoo did, but the only one who cautiously raises his hand is Kevin. You figure Wooyoung and Mingi probably got Changbin to crack with the added influence of Lino, but your eyes widen at San.

“Whaaat? That Hyunjin kid was testing my patience. Though I can’t say I wasn’t curious after his stream—”

“Seriously guys, did everything they said just evade you? They dissed our music, our message, Wooyoung and I’s dancing, our sex lives— and you’re going on and fucking them instead of fucking them over? What the fuck you guys!”

Wooyoung just shrugged. “I sure fucked him over his boyfriend, I think he appreciated the view—”

“You’re not even taking me seriously at all!” Eric roars, eyes flaring, but he’s right. You aren’t. You don’t think anyone else in the room even is.

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re trying to come at us for who we choose to sleep with. Like, I thought we agreed that what we do with other people is none of each other’s business, and it’s extra hypocritical when you were the first to do so this time. Last year we literally fucked a homophobe from the rival band to humiliate him and now you’re drawing the line? Just say you’re upset about Felix still and be done with it,” you tell him with scalding bluntness, and you can see the hurt visible all over his face. It does make you feel partly guilty, but you meant every word you said. Suppose you didn’t hear everything the others said once you were preoccupied with Felix and Chan, but you don’t think it would have changed your path of action regardless.

“Fine then,” Eric hisses, bitter and thoroughly done. “Fine! Fuck them all if you want, have one big fat orgy in our living room for all I care, but don’t expect to touch my ass once you’re done with them. Kevin, you’re the only one left with hole privileges.”

Kevin wrinkles his nose and raises a brow, puzzled. “But I’m a bottom?”

“Good! Then don’t use them! An extra fuck you to the rest of them!”

He storms off after that, slamming the door to his room behind him, and you all take a collective sigh at his little temper tantrum. They aren’t anything new, but he usually isn’t this unreasonable, but you all know why. Felix. It always comes back down to Felix, the first love who broke his heart into so many pieces he is still trying to glue them back together. You feel sorry for what he is going through, you really do, but that doesn’t mean you are going to let him walk all over you and lash out like that.

“So. Movie night?” San suggests to break the tension, and the others are quick to nod and mutter in agreement.

“Definitely not here, though,” you pitch in, Eric’s loud trap music blasting from his speakers through the closed door, right on cue. “Let’s give him some space to cool down.”

“I’ll stay here,” Sunwoo suggests, “Just in case he needs to talk it out while we’re still gone.”

“Let me,” you offer, “I’m not huge on movies anyway—”

“Respectfully, I think he’d rather talk to anyone but you,” Kevin interrupts with an apologetic frown. “You did kind of fuck around with his ex without him. I don’t think he wants to confront how jealous that made him. He still misses him so much.”

“I know,” you sigh, sinking down into the couch, wedged between him and Mingi. At this point you have already accepted movie night is not going to happen until you have talked this all out with the others. “I think it’s more than that, though. When I was talking to him about it while training him on pole, he said the rest of the kids made him jealous, too. Because those are all effectively, and I’m paraphrasing this bluntly, mind you, but they’re basically his replacements. His and the rest of their dance crew that he left. He wanted me to fuck Felix with him to prove that he too had moved on and met cooler, hotter and more talented friends to make music with, so he could feel in control again. But I think it backfired on him as soon as they started winning and rubbing it in our faces. At least, based on his outburst just then, that’s my guess. Still needa ask him directly, preferably once he’s let off some steam.”

Mingi plays with your hand as you talk, his large ones easily encasing yours and tracing patterns along your skin. “Sounds about right. Maybe we should stop sleeping around with them, then. It’s not like we’d have much of a dry spell without them, as hot as it is I don’t know if it’s worth making Eric upset.”

“That’s treating the symptoms, not the root of the problem,” you point out, noticing the way he stays fixated on your hand, not looking at you, but more so, not looking at Wooyoung. “That’s the thing I don’t get about monogamy. People will go to such lengths to make sure their partners don’t get jealous, instead of trying to unpack why they feel so bad about seeing someone else with them. Like, clearly he has a lot of insecurity about being replaced, or other people being better than him. I get that. So we just need to show him how much we value him, and how irreplaceable he is to us. How fucking with other guys doesn’t change that.”

That seems to stir something within Mingi, gears turning in his head visible on his face. You hope that it’s the realization you think it is, because while Mingi has never been the overly jealous type like Eric is, you know from many late nights drinking hot chocolate on his shoddy balcony that his insecurities are just as loud and all-consuming sometimes. You haven’t had the chance to properly check in on him since his fight with Wooyoung in front of you, but you hope he can read between the lines nonetheless.

“Huh. And how do we do that?”

“We put him in control again,” you say decidedly, nodding. “A position of power, of some sort. Make him the star of our next stage, build it all around it. Let him run it, even. And of course, him permitting, suck his dick till he’s shooting blanks.”

A unanimous chuckle ripples through the room at the last part, knowing full well how the combined effort of the six of you could make that a very easy feat.

“He did call us here to talk about our next stage,” Wooyoung hums thoughtfully, “I think he wants to do another special stage like we do at those dance clubs, with you taking over drums and Sunwoo on bass so he and Mingi can dance with me, if I were to guess. He seemed particularly torn up about their comments on dance specifically, which makes sense given how that’s how Felix left him.”

��What did they even say about your dancing, anyway? I didn’t catch that, was too busy arguing with—”

“Sneaking off to suck Felix’s dick in a hallway, we know,” Wooyoung snorts, shifting himself into his usual seat, that being Mingi’s lap, and leaning against his chest. “They said I danced like my sex appeal could make up for a lack of talent. Which is whatever, honestly, I just used that to make Changbin admit he still found me hot and eventually lead to bringing him home – amazing ass, mind you, he wanted to top so bad and I damn near let him but—”

“Okay, okay, details later, what else did they say about us?” Knowing each other inside out means that the tendency to cut each other off is never taken too personally, given how much you all have the tendency to ramble. You’re grateful for it, because at times like this, you need to get straight to the point. “Did they insult Eric’s dancing too?”

Wooyoung grimaces, lips pursing into a line, and that is enough to confirm your suspicions. “...yeah. To be fair, Eric did bring it up first. He was taunting them about their dancing and how they should go compete in dance competitions instead like they used to in Force – but oh, that’s right! Felix left Force, and for this, and he implied it was because he knew that they’d never make it in an actual dance competition without Force. So they dragged him and the rest of Force through the mud, saying maybe the reason they disbanded as soon as Felix left was because they knew he carried the team and they were nothing without him. You can imagine how hard that would have hit.”

You poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. Can’t exactly say their response was entirely uncalled for, then, but at the same time, Eric made a solid point. Why didn’t they just enter dance tournaments instead? You remember Eric going to compete in a whole ton of them between Force and Triple Z, the dance crews he was in with Felix and Wooyoung and Mingi respectively.

Force since disbanded with Felix’s departure since he acted as the glue that held the crew together, the other members closer with him than each other, while Triple Z still meets up sometimes, but a lot more casually than they used to now that most of them aren’t studying anymore, and have a lot less free time working to pay rent. Especially with the Battle of the Bands coming up, you don’t expect they will be doing anything big for a while now. At least that meant Eric finally stopped overworking himself between all his commitments.

You think about the week prior he spent learning a whole new medium of dance just to prove a point, and you quickly retract that thought.

“I think I know just what he needs,” you speak up, the puzzle clicking together in your head one piece at a time. “Not just what he needs, what this competition needs. An even match.”

“An even match?” San echoes, and you nod, noting the way he looks slightly disheartened, but you continue before he can think that the band isn’t a worthy competitor to the current reigning group.

“An even playing field, I mean. They’re doing something completely different to everyone else; that’s why they’re winning, because they can’t be compared to anyone else. We just need to give them something to compare to. Another dance group. Four of us are already some form of dancer, and the rest of you are fit and fast learners. If we spend the next week on the grind, we can make a dance performance out of one of the old tracks Kevin or Mingi produced for Force or Triple Z that never got used– and if we let Eric run this little boot camp, he hopefully will feel like he’s in control of the situation again and that we still value his opinions and role on the team.”

“So... your vote is basically plagiarism then,” Wooyoung snorts, crossing one leg over the other with a playful flourish, almost kicking you in the face in the process. “I’m interested. In fact, if we want to really boot camp this, we should all take the week off work. I think I can help cover the costs that may arise from that one.”

“No way!” San gasps, eyes quickly widening while the rest of you glance around at each other, not getting the memo. “Don’t tell me that sugar daddy you were talking to is actually legit...?”

“More than legit,” Wooyoung preens, evidently rather proud of himself. “I found out how to squeeze even more dough out of him. He loves seeing me in fancy designer brands, he has no idea I just stole half of it and have been using the generous allowance he gave me to spoil Mingi instead and buy other sorts of useless shit and necessities. So I just pretend I’m this fashionista diva who only wants to wear the most exclusive of designer, and even with all the money he’s giving me, it doesn’t give me the connections to get limited edition pieces from exclusive collections... and he gets them for me, of course, and do you have any idea how much those kinds of things sell for?”

If there was one thing you always admired about Wooyoung, it was how clever that sly fox could be when it came to things like this. Trust Jung Wooyoung to milk rich old men for all they’re worth, but still not consider that microwaving rice three times would make it into a solid brick. The duality of man.

“Why haven’t you told us earlier?!” San seems almost offended, lips falling into a pout. “That’s huge! You’re basically rich now!”

“Ew, gross,” Wooyoung wrinkles his nose, “I’m not rich, I’m exploiting the rich. Big difference. Don’t lump me in with those bastards! I didn’t tell you all yet because I didn’t want to get my hopes up in case it was a scam or he ended up being dangerous, but... I think we’re in the clear now. I’m still going to pole dance because I love it and I don’t want my only source of income to be reliant on some old rich man’s whims, but I can afford to take a week off and pitch in for you guys too. I might have to leave periodically if he calls, though, but luckily I already know how to dance. I’ll catch up quick.”

“It’s a plan, then,” Kevin speaks up, and the relief it fills you with is immense; you were the most concerned about his reaction to the idea, as he was the least inclined to heavy physical activity out of all of you, but you figure you must have been underestimating him – he may be no dancer yet, but Gaga nights at the gay club have him vogueing like he is one. “We make our next stage a dance stage to rival theirs, and Eric gets to put us all through dance hell? Good thing I started working out…”

You look around the room for any signs of protest, but luckily enough, everyone seems to be on the same page. You see a particular spark in Wooyoung and Mingi’s eyes – for completely different reasons – that make you think this really is the right path to take.

“Going once, going twice… agreed, then!” You clasp your hands together, determined. “Someone pick a movie, and we can tell Eric when he feels like speaking with us calmly again.”

a/n: not gonna lie this might be one of my favourite chapters so far hehe those chan scenes were extremely fun to write. anyway if you havent already, let me know your thoughts thru this google form or even through an ask, either or can be anonymous if you want (tho if you want me to reply to your form responses, pls do sign off w ur @!) as always reblogs are always appreciated and im always down to talk in depth abt these characters if any questions or brainrot arises. LOL

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lemineso · 2 years ago

Text

♕ of princes and princesses ♕ | s.mg, j.yh

✒ pairing: princess!song mingi x trans!prince!reader x prince!jeong yunho

✒ wc: 16.7k

✒ genre: royalty au, angst, romance, smut, heavy on the themes of queerness and identity

✒ summary:

"Only princesses like princes," you were all told. Mingi figured that must make him a princess, because he knows he loves the Crown Prince of Choeya, Jeong Yunho.

"You're a princess," you've been told, but you know you're a prince - and if it takes recruiting the estranged princess of Reuji to help you prove that point on your last stand, so be it.

Yunho is throwing a gala between the three kingdoms to forge alliances, and has no idea just how successful he will be.

✒ warnings! blatant transphobia and homophobia, verbal and emotional parental abuse, implied dysphoria, smut, anal (m. receiving), mirror sex, first times (mingi is a virgin), both of them have stupidly huge cocks, unprotected sex bc this is medieval times did they even have condoms? usage of the title "sir"

✒ a/n: this piece is very, very, very important to me, so i really hope you'll give it a shot! i especially invite cis readers to give it a chance to boost more marginalised identities within the reader insert community, to help even one other queer person out there feel more seen and normal. any reblogs or feedback would mean the world to me <3

as this fic is about queerness and acceptance, i will happily rewrite it for other queer identities upon request, whether that be trans woman, nonbinary, or any other shade of queerness, so just let me know!

The scalding syllables of the name that is not yours linger in the air again, ringing in your ears – the painful reminder of who you are expected to be. Princess.

“I’m not your princess,” you snarl, but like always, your words fall on deaf ears as the Queen pivots around to glare at you, shoulders tense and fists clenched.

“You are going to drop that attitude right this instant, young lady. With the gala coming up we cannot afford to have you dragging our kingdom’s name through the mud even more. Do you hear the things they say about you? First Reuji’s boy princess, and now our own Uchian Princess parading around as a prince. It’s a disgrace.”

“Yeah, just like your parenting.”

Wrong move. Nevertheless, you smile at the rage reflected in her eyes, storming towards you, but you don’t flinch. She won’t hit you. You know she won’t – such would reflect badly on her, and she has a role to play; the role of a kind, benevolent Queen. So gracious that she houses you, despite the dirt you put on her name. How generous and understanding of her, to not cast you out for the crows to finish off for defying her so constantly. Truly.

She grabs your wrist harshly and drags you out of an earshot from the seamstresses sorting out your dress, lowering her voice. “This is your last chance, child. I have been merciful thus far, but if you keep up your ‘prince’ act and ruin things any more than you already have at the gala – in front of both our neighbouring kingdoms, may I remind you – you’re out. I don’t care where you go, but it will certainly not be here.”

You swallow down the bile that rises in your throat at the threat. She’s insinuated such things before, but never has it sounded so final, concrete. You suppose perhaps she has been waiting for this – a chance for you to publicly fuck up badly enough that exiling you won’t reflect on her as a Queen, and more on you as a failure. After all, the problem has always been you, hasn’t it? No one else seems to have a problem with their name, their role, how they’re referred to or how they’re supposed to act. No, you’re just some spoiled princess who craves attention since her older sister is the heir to the throne instead. How spoiled you are, to have it all and still have the nerve to ask for some basic respect and understanding.

Who else could possibly even begin understand you, anyway? You don’t see anyone else rejecting the role they were born with, living the life of another – except, maybe, the name you hear scandalously gossiped about in the courtyard and throughout the town, the estranged firstborn of the Reujian Royal Family. Princess Mingi.

The princess, to your knowledge, is actually a man. At first you though perhaps he wasn’t, and he simply was born that way and like you, wanted no part in it – but word got around that he fell in love with a man, and was told much like you were, and only princesses like princes. He took this and decided that he would simply be a princess. It was a bold move. You respect it. You only wish you could speak with him, maybe then you’d feel more sane.

The Queen would never allow it, though, as she remains boring her eyes into yours with an icy cold warning. Whether to scream, laugh, or cry, you’re not entirely sure. Instead, you meet your mother’s gaze for a few long moments, hoping she can feel the piercing hurt and bitter hatred that seeps from your very being, and wordlessly turn around to leave. She is not worth the breath you have to spare on words to change her mind; there will be no such thing. You know that much by now.

You have better plans now, more important ones. The first step? Writing a letter and finding a way to contact the infamous Princess Mingi.

“So are you going to tell me why you’re sneaking around and trying to keep something hidden from our mother, or what?”

Your older sister blocks the doorway you were attempting to go through, leaving you without many options. Finding the privacy to write a personal letter was easy; finding someone who would be willing to keep secrets from the rest of the royal family was not, and as trustworthy as your selected messenger may seem – a pretty servant boy called Wooyoung with a fine eye for shiny stones and a certain distaste for the rules – you were not willing to bank on him not ratting you out if your sister, or gods forbid, your mother, interrogated him personally.

“Bold accusations to toss around,” you huff simply, buying yourself some time to formulate a cover. “I swear everyone’s just looking for an excuse to get me in trouble. You, too?”

The Crown Princess sighs deeply, seating herself on the plush study chair you were writing in not long before. “Not if you help me with something. And promise you won’t tell mother.”

“Now that’s more like it.”

You grab yourself a chair to sit across from her, crossing your legs and waiting for her to talk. She doesn’t meet your eye, which is rather uncharacteristic for the woman; not for her to be shy, or even anxious, but for her to be so around you. Usually, it seemed like she cared about just everyone else’s opinions except yours.

“The stable boy,” she breathes out quietly, “I think... no, I am... I’m in love with him.”

Had you been sipping a drink, you surely would’ve spat it right back out.

“The stable boy?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and seemingly trying to shrink into herself, shield her ego from the blow of such a confession. “It’s… I don’t know. I tried to ignore it. I know Mother really wants me to find a prince or nobleman to marry, she’s been so insistent on me attempting to court the Crown Prince of Choeya at the gala… but I cannot do it. Not while I know my heart belongs with another. Not while his belongs with me.”

It’s reciprocal, then, that changes things. You let the new information bounce around in your head to really process it before offering any sort of advice or reaction; a learned behaviour taught to you by the royal court since the moment you were old enough to speak. Since, you have commonly opted to not bother filtering or formulating your responses based on other’s reactions, but this situation is far more delicate than most – at least to you. For your sister was the only one who tried to treat you the same despite it all.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

She wouldn’t have come to you just to confide a secret, you’re sure. Well, mostly sure, though royal life is rather lonely and there is a chance she came to you as the only person she could get it off her chest with, barring the stable boy himself.

“Truthfully, I don’t know.” She plays with the sleeves of her dress, staring at them like the answers lie within the intricate lace patterns. “But you’re good at these things, usually. Figuring out how to do things we’re not supposed to do. You find a way.”

“Find a way?” You scoff, unable to believe what you’re hearing. “Is that what it looks like to you? Our mother threatened me with exile this morning.”

Her movements halt, hands dropping from her sleeves and looking up at you with wide eyes. “She... surely she doesn’t—”

“She means it this time.”

The silence is deafening, ringing through your ears. She means it this time. A probability that neither you nor your sister ever wanted to face, and thought maybe, just maybe, it would never really happen. What else would keep the young going if not foolish hopes and dreams? It was a wilful delusion, one that you wished didn’t have to be over so soon.

Like usual, however, fate has other plans.

“What do you plan to do, then?” Her voice is edged with worry, more than you’ve ever heard from her before. More than you ever thought you’d ever hear from her.

You shrug. “Pack my things, maybe. She says this gala is my last chance, and if I ruin it I’m out for good. Good riddance, then,” you snort dryly, bitterly attempting to seem like this could be any sort of desirable outcome, a feeble attempt to regain any sort of control over the situation. “I’ll have to raise hell on my way out. This is going to be one hell of a party.”

“You’re not even going to try?”

“Why would I?”

It’s as clear as day to you. If there was any chance of pleasing your mother without sacrificing who you are, you would’ve done it already. You aren’t about to sacrifice who you are for the sake of what other people think. You refuse to live a lie, no matter how easy it would be. Easier on the outside, maybe.

“Is the luxury worth it if it comes with no real power, no real respect? Living as a commoner seems more appealing than this if it means I finally get seen as a man. Not being watched and scorned for my every move.”

She has nothing to say back. There’s a silent but mutual understanding that you won’t change your mind, and that she will miss you. She toys with her sleeves again, trying to think of something, and you let her. Not that you think it’ll make much of a difference, but you let her, just because.

“Court Prince Yunho for me, then.”

“Huh? Did you not miss the part where—”

“Lie. Lie to our mother, tell her you’ll shape up and you regret acting up and you want to make things right by courting the Crown Prince. Convince her that you’re the better choice to send, since if I marry the Crown Prince and he wants to lead his own kingdom and not ours, that will leave you next in line to the throne. That’d be her worst nightmare, right?”

It stings, but she’s right. She’s right, and the more you think about it, the better of an idea it seems – not just will you get the dramatic exit you would make sure you get regardless, but with a big enough scene, Prince Yunho wouldn’t want to go anywhere near your sister, nor would any other potential suitors from all three kingdoms.

“…and then I wreak as much havoc as I can in one night.” You finish her train of thought for confirmation, and she nods slowly. Who knew your penchant for disruption would ever be useful?

“Then we both win, no?”

“I don’t need to do this to win, though,” you point out. “I could get what I want without bothering. What’s in it for me?”

She rolls her eyes, folding her arms crossly. “Can’t do one favour for your older sister before seeing yourself out, huh?”

“Can’t give anything in return to the brother you’ll never see again?”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “Alright. I’ll try and organise you a safe place to stay after it all goes down. The court still listens to me, I’m sure I can get a holiday house. I’ll say you’re my housekeeper, and then when I leave the palace, I can say I’m going there and go stay with my… my stable boy.”

“Wait, really?” Truthfully, you’re stunned. You were hoping for a memoire of hers to keep with you in your exile, maybe one last home-made meal she used to make when she picked up cooking as a hobby in her teen years. “You’d do all that… for me?”

“I would. I may not understand why being a man is so important to you… but that does not mean I want to lose the only sibling I have. It’d be different if you were married off and moving kingdoms, at least I’d know you’d be happy and well looked after – but exile is not so kind. You deserve this kindness.”

Suddenly feeling indebted to your sister, you crush her in a hug far too tight and too improper for anyone else to see, but she isn’t as surprised as you anticipated. She hugs you back, holding you just as tight, and no more words are needed to express your gratitude, nor her appreciation for you so rarely voiced.

When you finally pull back, you’re smiling genuinely for the first time in far too long.

“Thank you. I’ll make sure this gala is unforgettable – but first, I need to rewrite a letter.”

Dear Your Royal Highness, Princess Mingi of Reuji, I hope this letter finds you well.

I’m sure I don’t need to remind you about the upcoming gala. Are you excited for it, perhaps? Or are you dreading it? You can be truthful with me, Princess. From what I’ve heard, your family sounds a lot like mine. Gatherings such as this are usually such a chore, and keeping your cool in front of such rude guests questioning the very things that make you, you… it’s tiring, isn’t it?

Word does travel. We seem to have a lot in common, I think, so I would love to meet you in person when the date arrives. If your parents are anything like mine, they’ll be warning you to stay away from me, right? Gods forbid we sully their reputation any further. I don’t know about you, but that only makes me even more keen to meet you.

Within this letter I offer you a gift – the custom-made dress my mother forced me to order as a condition to be allowed to talk to Prince Yunho at the gala. That’s a long story there, but the short of it is that my sister does not wish to marry him, and to save her the strife, I am offering to be the one from our family to court him instead. I don’t imagine I’ll actually succeed, especially once I tell him that despite what my family likes to tell people, I am, in fact, a man. Being born otherwise does not change that. Unless the Crown Prince is like us, it will probably not lead to much. If he is… well, wouldn’t that be interesting?

Anyhow, I doubt the dress will fit you, so I included some of the locally sourced, luxury fabric used to make it so your seamstress can adjust it accordingly, if you so choose to wear it. It’d make quite a statement, don’t you think? Considering your reaction to being told only princesses can like princes was to become a princess, I figured such bold statements would bode well with you. It’s a beautiful gown, truly, but alas, it is simply not me. I have a feeling it will look better on you than it ever would on me. In fact, I ordered it with you in mind – I heard you were a fan of the colour pink, and it certainly pleased the Queen to hear I was getting a dress so feminine. I’ll be fine stealing one of my late father’s suits for myself.

I apologise in advance if any part of this letter is presumptuous. If you wish not to interact with me nor wear the dress, that is perfectly fine by me. I hope you enjoy the gala either way.

Yours truly,

His Royal Highness, Prince of Uchia.

Mingi has to read the letter three times before it sinks in that he was really just contacted by the infamous Prince of Uchia. The prince, which he had heard was “actually a princess,” but dressed up in suits and cut his hair and declared himself a man to the public – that’s prince enough as far as Mingi is concerned. He had been so damn curious ever since the word got out, wondering if maybe you were like him, or at least, understood him, but the thought left his mind up until the gala between the three kingdoms was announced.

He was shocked that the King and Queen permitted him to attend, after they had forbidden him from travelling outside the city’s walls ever since he first confessed his crush on Crown Prince Yunho of Choeya, at the tender age of fifteen.

They were visiting so he could meet the Choeyan Princesses, not the prince, but the Princesses simply never caught his eye the same way Prince Yunho did. He was kind, charming, funny, tall – well, taller back then, Mingi briefly wonders if he’s now caught up to him or if Yunho towers over him still – and everything Mingi could dream of… except that he was a man.

It didn’t strike Mingi as a problem, back then. After all, he had travelled to meet potential suitors, see their chemistry, court them, and that is exactly what he planned to do, until he realised just how much of a problem that actually is.

“Mother… I think marriage doesn’t so bad after all.”

“Really now? That’s wonderful news darling, which princess caught your heart, mm?”

That was the last time Mingi remembers his mother calling him darling.

“Actually… it’s the prince.”

“The prince?”

“Prince Yunho. I really like him, Mother, I’m–“

“You’re delusional, is what you are.”

He often wonders what would’ve happened if he never said anything. If he feigned interest in one of the princesses, got along with them well enough, and got married like everyone else wanted. Everyone else but him. Would it have been easier, to not have ever been cast aside? Or would it have been harder, to keep a secret and live a lie? Would the way his heart beat for Yunho have ever gone away? He still thinks about him now, years later, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing him at the gala and seeing if that spark he felt between them was real or just part of his imagination.

Because when he thought back to the moments they had spent together, the long sparring matches or chess games – both of which, he was no real competition for Yunho, but he couldn’t say he minded losing too much when the other boy would pat his shoulder and tell him he did well and offer to go again, obviously going easier on him so he could feel good about winning, and it worked. He knew what Yunho was doing, but it still worked, not because he actually felt better at sword fighting or chess, but because it meant that Yunho wanted him to feel better, and Mingi was sure he would give Yunho anything he could ever want from him.

The look in his eyes back then, the mischievous sparkle when he had him at sword-point or checkmate, or the warmth when he praised him for being able to beat him when it was too obvious he let it happen, they made Mingi feel something. Something he hadn’t felt anywhere else, something that had been described to him hundreds of times on paper and out loud.

“But Mother, I don’t get it. All those things you said about love, I feel those with Prince Yunho more than any of the princesses I’ve met, I really like him and–“

“Only princesses like princes, Mingi. Not princes. Princes like princesses, and you are a prince, are you not? So you will turn around, rid your mind of the thought and never bring this up again.”

Little Mingi scrunched up his nose. Like all teenagers do when being told they can’t do something, he figured he would do exactly that no matter what anyone said – that being, in this case, loving Crown Prince of Choeya, Jeong Yunho.

“I think I’d rather be a princess, then.”

He had stormed out that day, prideful and stubborn as ever, and truthfully? He doesn’t regret it at all, not anymore. He spent enough years regretting it, crying himself to sleep over the parents who detested him and the boy who he could never have. He’s older now, wiser, and he knows better – if his parents would detest their son over who he fell in love with, is their love even worth anything anyway? Is it really love if it’s conditional? Hiding may feel safer, be safer, but he no longer wants to hide. He wants to be heard, seen, witnessed – maybe he foolishly hopes Yunho will catch wind of it and reach out to him. Or maybe it’s just been far too long since he’s got to truly make a scene.

What better way to prove that than wearing the prince’s dress to the gala? Mingi doesn’t know you well, but from what little he’s gathered from rumours and from your letter, he decides he likes you. Maybe he just likes the idea of you, considering you’ve never met, but he has a good feeling about you. Someone kind enough to make him a dress, but someone so bold, even bolder than him, daring to make such a statement to be who they are… it’s hard not to admire such gall. He wants to be more like you, he decides. Playing princess was a good start, but he needs to make a bigger statement. He needs to be louder, speaking over those speaking over him, instead of playing docile in his defeat – and that starts with you, the gala, and this dress.

He isn’t used to sneaking around much, but he figures now is a good time as any to start – his palms are sweaty and everything feels twitchy as he tries to duck through the castle unnoticed, and he stutters when he tries to explain to the tailor he chose what he wants fitted and that he’d pay for her silence, but he does it in the end, and the thrill it gives him is exhilarating.

It helps that the dress is absolutely gorgeous, too. He doesn’t stop grinning the whole time the tailor takes his measurements, unable to hide his excitement at the thought of wearing it – and meeting you. Talking with you, just for a night, for once in his life since that fateful day feeling normal around someone else – he briefly wonders if his parents would allow him to wed you, considering how people still see you as a princess, and what better fit for the man that calls himself a princess than the “woman” who calls himself a prince?

No, no, he’s getting ahead of himself, he realises, blushing at how far that thought had gotten. It has been years since he’s genuinely gotten to consider the possibility of a romance, but he figures he should slow down until he meets you at the very least. Just one step at a time. He takes in a deep breath, takes out a fresh sheet of parchment, and grabs his trusty quill.

Dear Your Royal Highness, Prince of Uchia, it was lovely to hear from you.

I will not hide the truth from you; I have been intrigued with your character ever since I first heard of the wayward princess calling himself a prince. I wondered if maybe, you were just like me? Well, I do not call myself a Princess as a woman, but simply as an act of defiance, so I suppose we’re different there, but I will happily go along with your plan of defiance and take this gift with much gratitude.

I wasn’t completely dreading this gala, not really – I am trusting you with this secret, but I was mostly just excited to meet Prince Yunho again. I have not seen him in many years. I do not know if he is like us – we had some sort of connection when we met, but before I could ask him if he felt the same, we were torn apart. I have not been able to see him since. Now, however, I am counting down every day towards this party – I can barely conceal my excitement to meet you. For the first time, it feels like someone understands me.

I sent the garment to my tailor the first thing after reading your letter. It’s gorgeous, I’m honoured to have such a gift – but that would leave you without a custom piece for the gala, and I could not accept that. With this letter I am sending you a suit made especially for you, although without your measurements, it likely won’t fit, so I followed your lead and included some fabric as well. I hope it’s to your liking; I may have been presumptuous as well, and made our outfits match.

I am aware of how this may come off. But I figured I will ask anyway if you would be my date at the gala. I think we would make a good pair. I hope you think so, too.

I doubt any reply will arrive before the gala anymore, though, so I suppose I will hear your response in person. It’s alright if you say no. I look forward to meeting you regardless.

Sincerely,

His Royal Highness, Princess Mingi of Reuji.

The night of the gala.

As much as you wished to reply to Mingi’s letter, he was right – it wouldn’t reach his kingdom in time. The suit he sent you was positively beautiful, the perfect partner piece to the dress you sent him, in the same style but opposite colours – black and red to match his ivory and pink, the embroidered patterns and glittering jewels mirroring the dress’s patterns. Truly the most stunning garment you had ever laid your eyes on, and all the more meaningful that he had you in mind when designing it.

The tailor certainly had questions, but nothing the right price couldn’t dissuade – after all, a humble but talented tailor that didn’t work for the castle always dreamed of taking work for royals, who could possibly refuse? Even if it was for the estranged prince.

Since, you had kept it hidden somewhere your mother nor the servants would ever find it – with the stableboy that had won your sister’s heart. You gave him your blessings in private, and he wished you well in turn.

Everything led up to now. All the secret letters, the gowns, the planning, the sneaking around and colluding with your sister to buy enough time to change into the suit and make it to the carriage before your mother could see you. The stableboy ended up a more valuable asset to your plan than initially thought, getting you your own carriage to sneak into, your sister feeding your mother the fib of leaving early to meet the Crown Prince and win his heart.

You’d certainly try, just for the hell of it – just to humiliate your kingdom further when you try to court him as a prince. You wonder how he would react to that, though you suppose it didn’t seem like it would be the first time Prince Yunho was courted by a prince.

The Choeyan Royal Family run the gala, the richest and most influential of the three powers, and when you arrive at the castle it sure does not disappoint. Tall stone spires shrouded in ivy and flowers, and yet – not a single stone brick out of place, not a tendril or vine out of place, falling perfectly symmetrically on the sides of every archway and fireflies dancing around them. How such a feat was achieved is beyond you, but you marvel at the view nonetheless.

Stepping inside, the interior is just as impressive as the exterior, polished marble floors and stairs, art on every available surface, and the biggest jewelled chandelier you’ve ever seen above your head. It speaks louder than words of the success Choeya has accumulated, just comparing it to the castle back in Uchia; you start to see why everyone is so hellbent on marrying into the Choeyan lineage. It would probably help your kingdom immensely if you could actually succeed in what you told the Queen you would do, the allyship could bring so much good to your people, the people you swore to protect – but what have those people done to protect you? Perhaps there is only so much a commoner can do against the word of a Queen, but either way you don’t feel too bad about burning the bridge between you and Choeya tonight. You’d be exiled by morning anyway, and your sister is determined on her stableboy.

You’re gazing up at the kaleidoscope of lights in wonder when you hear a deep voice clear itself behind you, and only then do you notice the strange looks of the guests around you – for once, not fixated on you, but rather, behind you.

Turning around with curiosity tugging at the corners of your lips, you set your sights on a tall, broad figure with soft eyes and plush lips, donning a bejewelled prince’s crown and the very dress you ordered yourself, the silky fabric hugging his waist then flowing all the way to the ground and trailing behind him. He’s curled into himself nervously, offering you a shy smile as he curtseys low, polite, then meets your eyes again, brimming with excitement.

“Princess Mingi,” you breathe out, smile widening. You almost forget to bow in response, about to curtsey back out of habit before you realised that you are not, in fact, being forced to wear a dress this time. You still wear the tiara of your birthright, but it’s liberating, proudly presenting yourself as you are and defying the rules like this, and you notice the way Mingi straightens up a little when you stand back up with your shoulders set and head held high – partially to look up at him towering over you, partially because of your newfound confidence from your expression and your absolutely stunning date. “My answer is yes; I would love to be your date tonight. You look ethereal.”

“And you look incredibly handsome.” His voice is far deeper than you expected, and any jealousy it would make you feel is washed away by how it turns your knees to jelly. He can’t stop smiling, wide and gummy and showing too much teeth for any royal to consider it proper, but it takes your breath away. “I confess I have been thinking about this moment non-stop since I received your letter.”

“And? How is it, now that it’s happening?” You prompt, absolutely buzzing at just the sight of him. Him, a man, a princess, a Reujian, in a traditional Uchian dress, and positively thrilled about it.

“Exciting.” he admits, taking a step closer to you. He offers you his arm and pausing in confusion earns you a raised brow. “What is it? Surely you’re not bothered by the gendered etiquette we use? If you’d prefer, I can take your arm instead, but…”

He giggles softly, gently placing his large hand atop your head, slowly enough for you to move away if you so wished. You don’t.

“Yeah,” you chuckle in response, getting his message loud and clear. “Suppose I’m a little too short for that to work well, huh?”

The Princess shrugs, and you’re amazed at how he manages to seem both awkward and easy-going at the same time. “We could try-“

“No worry,” you insist, stepping closer to him and taking his arm gracefully, just happy to have a point of contact between you. Enough to ground you, remind yourself that this is real, he is real, and live in the moment for the night while you still can. “I’m fine with this. You’re right, I’m sick of people telling people what a prince or princess can or can’t do.”

Mingi seems pleased with that, whisking you past the gaggle of whispering party guests and onto the dance floor, long before anyone else has started dancing, the live orchestra only just getting started – but that doesn’t deter him, gloved hands finding your shoulder and your hand, yours taking his waist and following his lead. You’ve never danced the gentleman’s part in a ballroom dance with a partner before, only watched longingly and tried to learn the steps by yourself in the privacy of your room, but Mingi is a natural dancer. He leads you through it, twirling himself around and giggling bashfully at how the dress twirls around with him, and when you pull him back in, chest to chest, his breath hitches at the proximity. You can feel him this close, feel his pounding heartbeat, and it’s almost like you can feel everything he’s feeling like this, too. Like you’re on the same page, like he can feel you too – he’s a complete stranger, yet you feel closer to him in this moment than anyone you have ever known.

“You’re quite the talented dancer,” you hum, getting more in the rhythm of it – you truthfully expected to be more bothered with all the scornful eyes boring into your skull, more spiteful, but all you could focus on was the man right in front of you in all his beauty and natural talent, swaying with your arms around him. “You do this kind of ballroom dancing often?”

“Kind of,” he replies a little bashfully, “Never with a partner. I just watched a lot, practiced with my hat stand in my room…”

“Me too!” You gasp, grinning at the mirrored experience. “Well, not with a hat stand, just the air – I’m not sure which is more amusing, though.”

Mingi’s stare bores into you in place of a reply, and at first you think it’s something you said, until he blinks twice and shakes his head, like he’s snapping himself out of it. “Apologies,” he mutters quickly, “But your smile is simply breathtaking, I find myself at a loss for words. Um– right, the dance– I think the hat stand is more embarrassing, personally. You can laugh if you want, I don’t mind.”

How he manages to seem so shy and confident at the same time is beyond you, but if there’s one thing that you’re sure of it’s that you find it incredibly charming. As far as first impressions go, he’s definitely won the grand prize in your book. When was the last time someone has treated you with such casual attention? Made you feel so normal?

“A charmer, are we?” You tease, but you can’t hide the way you only smile wider at his sweet words. “I do hope I’m at least more entertaining of a dance partner than a hat stand, though.”

“Of course!” Mingi exclaims, as if he thinks you would be genuinely threatened by the dancing abilities of a hat stand. “You’re very graceful.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle, leaning forward to rest your head on his chest. You’re completely relaxed, the heavy weight of anticipation from earlier melting away in Mingi’s arms. It feels right, not just because of your similarities in status and identity, but simply the warmth he regards you with that only makes you want to return it tenfold. Is this what falling in love feels like? You never thought it could happen so quickly, that being merely a thing of fairy tales, but you can’t deny the magnetism between you that has nothing to do with him being a boy princess or you being a prince without the parts. If Mingi had shown up in a suit, addressed as a prince, and still treated you the same, you don’t doubt you would’ve been just as enamoured, and that isn’t as alarming as you thought it’d be. It feels… normal. Like it only makes sense that you’re already falling for a man like Song Mingi, like it is inevitable.

You wonder how this must look from the outside – the two outcasted royal children, dancing together, wearing the ‘wrong’ things, dancing the ‘wrong’ way, sharing what seems like an intimate moment in the middle of the dance floor. It’s only now that you’re not mesmerised by Mingi’s features and hear the pounding of his heartbeat – from you or from all the negative attention, you aren’t sure – does the sick sense of satisfaction finally start creeping in, childishly poking your tongue out at an old woman giving you a particularly scandalised look and giggling at how she immediately turns away and starts muttering something to her husband.

“What are you giggling at, my prince?” he asks, and you feel it rumbling in his chest with your head laid there. It’s grounding, and you find yourself dreading letting go with each passing moment.

You tilt your head in the direction of the judgemental old lady with a scoff. “Look at them, princess. They’re quivering in their boots at the very sight of us. We disgust them.”

Mingi’s grip on your shoulder and hand tighten, steering you in the other direction almost protectively. “Don’t look at them, then.” He moves his hand from your shoulder to your chin, lightly tilting your face up to meet his. “Just look at me.”

“That wasn’t a complaint.” His lips fall into a surprised ‘o’, which is almost as endearing as finding out he practiced dancing with a hat stand. “We disgust them, and that feels good. If being ourselves makes their blood boil, then I hope they keep boiling until it scalds their very skin. Is it not satisfying?”

“Why would it be satisfying?” Mingi asks quietly, not able to meet the crowd’s gazes for too long, even with more couples making their way to the dance floor, he can’t escape all the eyes on him. “What’s satisfying about knowing your very being is repulsive?”

“Repulsive to them,” you remind him, your turn to cup his face and pull his attention away from the bystanders. “The same people who make our lives so difficult. The kind of people that are so averse to anything that isn’t them that they have to be hateful… they deserve to be repulsed, I think. So if we’re so repulsive, I will take pride in it, as I have no interest in earning the approval of those who don’t deserve my effort. Is that not why you became a princess?”

Mingi gnaws on the inside of his cheek. “I became a princess as an act of teenage rebellion. I stuck with it to prove a point but – while I refuse to feel shame about it, I don’t think I’ve ever been truly proud, not really. Not until I wore this dress, I think. Not until I met you.” He smiles, and when he looks back at the disapproval around him, he doesn’t shy away. “You’re right. They don’t deserve my effort to be palatable. I hope they boil in their misery, too.”

You can hear what they’re saying about you. Uncouth, unheard of, unnatural – who allowed them to sully their kingdom’s names like this? Who do they think they are? There is something wrong with them. They’re multiplying. Keep them away from the children!

In truth, despite the front you would wear as much as you could, those words always did hurt, but within Mingi’s warm embrace, they ricocheted right off you. After all, you finally had proof they were wrong – you’re not the only different one out there. You have someone.

Your little reverie is shattered by the shrill voice of your mother crying out the name you abandoned, shoving past party guests to get to you two in the centre – and when she sees you, the chalice of wine she was carrying slips from her grasp and clatters to the ground.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demands, anger boiling over the edges and cascading down to her trembling fists. “I told you young lady, you had one chance, and you were to court the Crown Prince–“

“Man,” Mingi interrupts, and the Queen whips up to glare at him, appalled at his nerve to cut her off.

“Who do you think you are, boy–“

“Young man,” Mingi corrects calmly, “Not young lady.”

You’ve stopped dancing now, so when your mother crosses the line of your personal space and pulls you off Mingi rather ungracefully and steps up to him rather threateningly, Mingi takes a step back.

“You don’t tell me how to speak to my own daughter, you miserable crossdresser. Now get out of my sight.”

Mingi briefly makes eye contact with you, uncertain, and you’re not sure what he sees in your expression – you’re not sure if you’re pleading for him to stop or keep going, frozen under the pressure – but he seems to find his answer there, turning back to the Queen.

“Son.”

“Guards!” she bellows, calling the attention of everyone who wasn’t already staring uncomfortably at the altercation, even the members of the orchestra quieting in caution. “Get this man out of here, he is disrespecting the royal family–“

“He is the royal family,” the nearest guard says slowly, stepping forward carefully. “With all due respects, Your Majesty, you are not the only royals in attendance. We can only take orders from Choeyan royalty.”

She’s fuming, which would usually strike a chord of fear in you – today instead it’s glee. You have never seen your mother look so powerless.

You try to make a break for it with the Princess while she’s distracted arguing with the guard, but she catches your arm, giving you one of the most furious glares you’ve ever seen from her – and you’ve seen a lot of furious glares from her.

“Yes, mother?” you ask as daintily as you can, wearing a saccharine smile you were sure her and everyone else spectating could see was as genuine as thieves’ gold.

“You. Said,” she starts slowly, voice shaking in her desperate attempt to not start a screaming match in the middle of a gala between three kingdoms, “that you would wear a dress and court the Crown Prince–“

“I promised I would get the seamstress to make me a dress, not that I would wear it.” You grasp Mingi’s hand, pulling him back to your side. “Isn’t it gorgeous? I think it suits his long legs better than mine“ – she scowls your birth name again, but you continue without paying her any mind – “and I’ve yet to see the Crown Prince. I was just sharing a dance with a princess, since when was that disallowed?”

“That is no real princess,” the Queen spits, glaring directly at him. “That’s a prince playing dress-up.”

“No, I’m the prince playing dress-up whenever I put on your silly dresses. But you’re right,” you add on the end before she can continue, earning Mingi a shocked tilt of his head in your direction, “I have a Crown Prince to court. Guards, do you know where his Highness, Prince Yunho is?”

The Choeyan guards point you towards the refreshments table before your mother could get another word in, and you tug Mingi along into the sea of people without giving her the chance to, weaving in and out of as many circles of people as you could to shake her off your tail. It works rather smoothly, her continually being stopped by all sorts of nobles trying to get in an important word with Her Majesty herself.

As it turns out, finding Prince Yunho wasn’t very hard – not just from his extravagant crown, but much like the Princess, he towered over most of the crowd around him, standing tall and regal, the very image of princely masculinity – everything you wanted to be, everything the world wanted Mingi to be. You have never been more ready to publicly make a fool of yourself.

Waltzing right up to him rather determinedly, the Crown Prince notices you right away, and only a split second later, your company. He immediately loses the remaining words in whatever sentence he was saying to a group of noblewomen next to him, murmuring a brief apology to them before taking long strides to meet you both.

“Mingi.” His eyes linger on the Princess, then flicker to you. “And- you must be the Prince of Uchia?”

You bow before him, giving him a cheeky wink on your way back up. “That’d be correct. It’s an honour to meet you, your Highness.”

“You as well, I’ve heard a lot about you. You look amazing tonight. And…” He turns to Mingi expectantly.

Mingi seems torn on whether to bow, curtsey, or crush his old friend in a hug, but when he fumbles with his words for a second too long, Yunho beats him to it, pulling him into an embrace that has the partygoers all around you gasping in astonishment. You wish they could just turn around and not scrutinize every action any of you made, but Yunho nor Mingi seemed to pay them any mind.

“I thought I’d never get to see you again.”

Mingi is frozen completely still, but it’s no brief embrace, either – Yunho stays there until Mingi melts into his touch and carefully hugs him back, burying his face in his shoulder. “Yunho… I missed you too.”

They stay there for a moment longer before Yunho finally pulls back, beaming brighter than all the crystalline lighting hanging above you. “You’ve– You’ve grown taller! More handsome, too.”

Nothing could stop the flush colouring Mingi’s cheeks and ears at that, turning away at the intensity of looking at him – only to settle his gaze on your knowing smirk, which only deepens the shade of scarlet adorning his face. Seeing him so flustered is a real treat, and you only wish you could have had more time with him before reuniting him with the man he obviously still has feelings for.

It doesn’t upset you though, not really. You’re happy for him, and you’re happy you at least got to be his date for the night. It’s a night you’re sure you will never forget, and you’re immensely grateful to him for it.

“U-Um,” he pauses to clear his throat, gathering his courage. “You too. Both the taller and more handsome parts. It’s really… been a while, hasn’t it? Uh– the Prince has something to say, though, before we catch up.”

“Huh?” He nudges you forward, and it takes a second for what he’s expecting you to do to click. Oh. Right, the favour for your sister, the promise you made your mother – courting the Crown Prince. It’s now or never; time to throw this party into chaos the three kingdoms will be talking about for years to come. The cataclysm of your life and possibly the future of Uchia as you know it.

Whirling back around to Yunho with your most bedazzling smile, hyperaware of the noblewomen that were staring daggers at you, you ask him.

“Prince Yunho of Choeya, are you interested in men?”

The gasps you get in response are louder than all the previous ones you’d heard that night, the most shocked, the most scandalised. Exactly what you wanted to hear – exile be damned, the Queen would never recover from this. Her entire family name would never recover from this, and that is precisely the legacy you intend to leave, for your sister’s sake and your own spite.

Mingi evidently did not expect you to be so forward with your approach, jaw hanging open and eyes flitting between you and Yunho in disbelief – but you don’t miss the way they linger on Yunho longer, bated breath waiting for his response. Yunho seems equally taken aback, glancing not just you and Mingi, but all the party guests around you and their looks of varying degrees of disapproval, all centred on you two. Not him.

Your mother finally finds you among the sea of people – suppose all she had to do was follow the condemning glares and muttering – and steps between you and the Crown Prince, plastering on the fakest of apologetic smiles you know are exclusively for the public. A well-rehearsed façade that speaks volumes to the commonness of her insincerity.

“Sincerest apologies for my daughter’s outlandish behaviour, I assure you she is just–“

“Yes, I do like men, actually.”

The orchestra stops completely.

He didn’t even say it that loud but somehow the entire castle seemed to hear, everyone falling silent with surprising quickness, and for once, your mother is truly, genuinely, speechless. Possibly the most genuine thing she’s ever been.

Yunho grins, that same beaming grin he wore when he met you and Mingi again. He loops a strong arm around each of you possessively, standing tall and with his head held high in defiance – in direct contrast to how Mingi shrinks into his side, bracing for the metaphorical impact. You though, you gawk at him in amazement, clearly expecting some sort of negative response, a conflict and a swift exit to leave him with Mingi – but you can’t say you aren’t pleased with this turn of events.

“These two? They’re with me. If you lay your eyes on them, let it be with respect.”

Oh, you are definitely pleased with this turn of events.

You can’t believe your eyes; the way with just a few sentences, all the looks on the crowd’s faces changed, brows unfurrowing and looking at you with a new curiosity and intrigue rather than warped in distaste – so quickly? So soon? Is that the power of the Crown Prince, the only suitable heir to the most powerful throne out of three kingdoms while the King is rumoured to be on his deathbed – a lifetime of prejudice, gone with just a few words?

Upon closer examination, you realise what’s written on everyone’s faces is hardly awe, but fear. A special kind of fear, a kind of fear you know – the fear of doing something wrong. The fear of stepping a single toe out of line, and suffering consequences, whether it be reputation, possessions, or worse.

Yes, that is the true power of the Crown Prince of Choeya.

“Well? Were we not in the middle of a party?” Yunho questions loudly, clear voice ringing through the castle and just challenging anyone to step up to him. “Go on, start the music again, dance, mingle. There is nothing for you to see here.”

Just when you think people will finally do exactly that, Yunho decides he isn’t done with his spectacle. He tugs the two of you closer, earning him a gasp from Mingi which he quickly covers with his lips, a kiss that lingers, his eyes half open to glare at whoever was bold enough to keep staring, and Mingi hasn’t even caught his breath before Yunho pulls away and leans down to kiss you.

His lips are soft, warm.

It’s the only thing your brain can process with it whirling so wildly, and it’s over as soon as it starts, the only proof that it happened being the lingering warmth on your lips and the way the partygoers finally stop blankly staring and hustle to move away and avoid eye contact. They can’t look, but they can’t not look either, sneaking stunned looks in your direction before quickly looking away as soon as Yunho even so much as blinks at them.

“Come on,” Yunho insists, breaking the shocked silence between the three of you, and tugging you away towards the stairs.

“Where- Where are we going?” You manage to get out, finally coming to your senses enough to form words again, but the Crown Prince’s pace only quickens. With no idea what to think of any of it, your words are hardly in protest, hurrying along to keep up with him. “What about your father, what will he think?”

“Have you seen him all night? The rumours are true, he’s bedridden with illness and has been for a while now. I am running the kingdom in his stead.” At the top of the spiral staircase, he tugs you down a corridor and around a corner, you and Mingi barely able to exchange bewildered glances as you’re dragged along. He speaks of his father’s illness so casually, to foreign powers no less – such would be considered weakness by any other member of the royal court. Just how much is he risking be being so open with you two – how much is he risking by pulling the stunt he just did?

“Where am I taking you? Away from that stuffy party, and those stuffy people, all of it. I thought it’d be refreshing, having people from other walks of life over to mingle and gain new perspectives on the world – but all anyone wants to gain is power and status at the cost of others. The only breaths of fresh air in this godforsaken palace right now, are you.”

A couple more staircases later, the three of you finally end up on a balcony, high above the party beneath you, and Prince Yunho finally lets go of your hands with a sigh, leaning back on the stone railing. He gives you the most sheepish look you’ve seen from him all night, and it’s uncharacteristically cute for how charismatic he had been the rest of the night.

“Apologies,” he says at last, knowing the two of you were likely waiting on him to explain, well, everything. What this means. Whatever it means. “I got carried away trying to make a statement. I think you two do it better, though.”

Mingi finally speaks up, carefully leaning on the railing next to him. “Is that all that was, then? A show?”

He’s hopeful, it’s written all over his face all the way down to the way his hands can’t keep still, rubbing the details on his dress mindlessly, the way he’s practically holding his breath. He must have been waiting for this for a long time. There is so much left unresolved between the two, and here you are, spectating.

“Should I go?” You ask awkwardly, not wanting to impose on their reunion, but Yunho grabs your wrist as you turn to leave.

“No,” he assures firmly, not leaving any room for doubt in his voice. “Stay.”

“Okay.”

Mingi gulps. Yunho stares at the ground and bites his lip, and the palpable tension is driving you insane a lot quicker than you have the patience for.

“Oh just say it out loud already, you’ve been in love since you were boys! What do you need me here for?!”

You realise Yunho’s grasp on your wrist never loosened, only gripping firmer at your outburst, abruptly tugging you forward before you could turn away again. You’re close, intimidatingly so, and you almost think he’s going to kiss you again, but he doesn’t. From up close you get to examine every detail of his perfectly sculpted face while he waits for – whatever it is he’s waiting for, whatever it is he’s looking for in your eyes.

He’s beautiful, you think. Too beautiful for a world like this. Just like Mingi.

“You’re right,” he admits, breath fanning over your face, looking at you and not Mingi. You’re not sure why he isn’t looking at Mingi when he says this. “But you… you’re incredible. You and everything you stand for. The courage you had, coming up to me like you did tonight.”

You can’t help but shy under the praise, and the way he says it with all seriousness. The way he says it after outright confessing his feelings for Mingi, as if the two facts had equal importance. Your heart quickens at the implications. “Oh… wow. Thank you.”

“I want to get to know you more,” he continues, then finally turns to Mingi, gently taking his hand. Cautiously, unlike his unrivalled bravado from earlier. “And… I get the feeling our Princess does too.”

“I– I do!” Mingi confirms, eagerly stepping forward and taking your remaining hand in his free one, joining the three of you together. “I didn’t think– I didn’t think there was a point in hoping for anything with Yunho. But you…” The warm flush returns to his cheeks under the torchlight, but he doesn’t lose his resolve this time, squeezing your hand. “…I hoped about you. Since the day I got your letter. I hoped, if our kingdoms see me as a prince, and you as a princess, then maybe they would allow us to marry. And if they saw I was marrying a ‘princess’, I could be the heir again, and when its my turn to rule– I never wanted to rule, but if I did, I could fix all this. Make things right. It’s… presumptuous, I know, but–“

“You do tend to be presumptuous at times,” you cut in teasingly, recalling his letter. “But I’d be lying if I said I don’t find it endearing. Or that you’re wrong, really.”

He seems to light up at that; perhaps it’s just the reflection of the fireflies, but his eyes really do sparkle – and then he acknowledges Yunho again, deflating slightly. “I’m– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Wanting to marry him? I’m the last person who would fault you for following your heart, Mingi.” Yunho stands up straight, intertwining his fingers with each of yours. “But I have a better suggestion. Marry me instead.”

“But–“

“Both of you,” Yunho clarifies, looking at each of you in turn. “Your parents don’t need to approve. Not if you stay here with me. It’ll be a moon at most before my coronation, we could have our wedding shortly after, and no one will be able to refuse.”

“Both of us?” you echo in disbelief, but you can already feel the hope flaring up in your chest at his suggestion. Your history tells you to crush it, suppress it, stomp out that spark – but you don’t want to. Not this time, not when this spark is landing on kindling to a bonfire, hot as ever. “Can we even do that?”

The Crown Prince shrugs. “I’ll be King, then. We can do whatever we want.”

It’s overwhelming. Mingi is overwhelmed, too, so instead of saying anything he grabs Yunho by the collar and pulls him into a passionate kiss; one that is instantly returned with just as much fervour, but he doesn’t let go of your hand. Having the two of them kiss right in front of you is expectedly a little bit awkward, but it’s heart-warming, too, the way they smile into the kiss like they just can’t get enough of each other.

Yunho is hooked, leaning forward for more every time Mingi pulls back, breathlessly laughing against his lips, but he seems to remember your presence when you loosen your grip on his hand. He must like holding hands a lot, you think, based on the way he refuses to let either of you go, and you can’t say you mind. Not when his hands are so warm, soft from the lack of any menial labour, and large enough to completely envelop yours.

He pulls away finally, and to your surprise he pulls both his hands away too – only to hoist you up in his strong arms onto the cold stone of the balcony railing, pinning you there.

“Hey,” Mingi whines, leaning over him to try and shoulder his way into your space too, “He was my date first, and you already stole the first kiss from me.”

“Oh?” Yunho challenges, leaning in closer to you, “Don’t be so demanding to your future King, Mingi. What if I wanted to kiss him first?”

“Wait your turn! Are you seriously pulling rank with me right now–“

“How about we let him decide, hmm?” His breath fans over your face again and its blurring all your senses, but Mingi shoves his face next to his and suddenly those plump lips of his are so close, but he stops inches away to give you room to make your decision.

“You’re both dorks.”

Grabbing each of them by the back of their heads, you pull them in at the same time, faces pressing together as all three pairs of lips meet each other in the centre. It works out a lot better than you expected in the moment, not really expecting it to work at all, but being able to kiss them at the same time makes you unreasonably giddy.

It doesn’t last long, Yunho pulling away when Mingi hungrily presses for more and more of you, the two of you giggling at the little disgruntled noise Yunho makes from being pushed aside. You make quite the show out of it, wrapping your legs tightly around Mingi’s waist to hold him flush against you – and so you won’t fall backwards off the edge – and tangling your hands in his silken hair, careful not to knock off his crown but still pushing it off-center, giving Yunho the same cheeky side-eye he gave everyone else when he kissed Mingi that first time.

Yunho scoffs at this, crowding into your space behind Mingi to cage both of you there, kissing along Mingi’s neck and shoulder and making him shiver against you. Either Yunho knew what he was doing more than you and Mingi or he was really good at pretending, because the way his hands and lips dance across Mingi’s body and the reactions he pulls out of him seem practiced. That, or Mingi is just extremely sensitive to touch, and extremely vocal about it. You’re not sure which possibility has you more heated.

When you finally pull apart for air, you glance over your shoulder down at the party below, and luckily it doesn’t seem like anyone has spotted you in plain sight, storeys above them. “We should take this inside,” you murmur, caressing Yunho’s face, your lips brushing Mingi’s with every word they spoke. “Before someone sees us out here.”

“Let them see,” Mingi growls, pressing himself closer to you, holding you tight against him. “Let them look and ridicule like they always do, let their hatred boil over and know there is nothing they can do in their power to stop it.”

You laugh in his embrace, forehead to forehead. “Princess, I’m sure they’re boiling already, but I was more implying feeling a different kind of warmth beneath our skin that they frankly don’t deserve the luxury of spectating.”

Mingi freezes up at that and blushes wildly, Yunho chuckling against his neck and pressing a soft kiss there. “Glad we were on the same page, at least,” he hums before detaching himself from him, “Unless you’d rather do something else?”

“I-I’ve never–“ he swallows, peeling off of you and letting you hop down from the railing.

“That’s okay,” Yunho soothes, taking each of your hands again and squeezing them reassuringly. “I’ve had a bit more freedom as Crown Prince. If you want, we can wait, or I can lead you.”

It wouldn’t be your first time – there were some select few knights that were attractive enough for you to see past the fact that they saw you as a princess still – but it would certainly be the first time it ever meant anything to you, and your heart is nearly beating out of your chest at the mere thought.

“I want it,” Mingi whispers, his voice getting caught in his throat with just how badly he wants exactly that. “I want both of you.”

“Then both of us you will have, my princess.” Yunho accentuates his promise with a peck on the lips, and you find yourself uncharacteristically shy under their confidence.

“Even though I’m– my– I–“

“I don’t care,” Yunho says simply. “I’m not as attracted to body parts as I am to the people who own them. I’ve brought enough women to my bed to know what I’m doing in that regard, too.”

Ah. You nod slowly in understanding, then turn to Mingi, who just smiles back at you. “I just want to be as close to you as physically possible,” he murmurs, “A-And make you feel good, too. Everything else is irrelevant to me.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out, not exactly sure what you’re thanking them for. They’re already ushering you back inside to follow Yunho to his chambers by the time they tell you that you have nothing to be thanking them for.

Yunho can’t help but grin as soon as the door behind you clicks shut, a certain glint of playfulness and excitement – maybe the tiniest bit of cockiness, too – adorning his features. His room is expectedly spacious, colour-coordinated in navy and gold, but the first thing that catches your attention isn’t the impressive, jewel-encrusted swords mounted on the wall above his bed – but instead, his headboard. Detailed gold frame, taller than the headboards in you or your sister’s chambers, but most notably – glass. Reflective glass.

Crown Prince Yunho’s headboard is a mirror.

You and Mingi notice this at the same time, the curious raise of your brows earning you a chuckle from him.

“I do hope you aren’t that self-conscious,” he hums, the cheeky grin not leaving his face, “because I would love to let you see just how beautiful you are.”

Mingi nearly chokes on air, and if he could get any redder, he would; you almost think he is about to ask Yunho to cover it, or face away, but once he gets his breath back he’s excitedly tugging you towards the massive bed.

“Eager, are we, Princess?” Yunho teases, gently pushing Mingi – who is far too happy to be malleable for him – down onto the bed, remaining standing between his legs so he can look down at him and tilt his face upwards. “I think I like the view of you looking up to me like this.”

Mingi gulps. “I– I can’t say I dislike the view from here either.”

“Do you prefer being on the bottom, then?” you chime in, sauntering over and kneeling before him, resting an arm on the bed and your head on his thigh. Both you and Yunho smirk at the way he looks like his head is about to burst. “Or do you like the view of me on my knees for you, too?”

“You two are going to be the death of me,” he exhales. “Both, both is good, can one of you please just touch me already?”

You grab at his dress to bunch it up on his lap before Yunho grabs both of your wrists and moves to hold them in only one of his hands – a feat that already has you reeling – then uses them to tug you up to your feet, and then back on the bed beside Mingi.

“Rewards come to those who wait.” That playful energy has quickly warped into something darker, but equally as heart-pounding. He must notice this, because when he leans in closer and places your hands in your lap, he pushes you onto your back with only a single finger; you find yourself obeying him without a word. “And trust me, my prince, I can be very, very rewarding. So are you going to be patient for me, or are you going to defy your future King?”

“You really like being the one to call the shots, don’t you?” you blurt out, but you love the way he his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek at your attitude. “Just because you’re going to be in charge of a kingdom doesn’t mean you have to be in charge in the bedroom. What if I wanted a turn, hmm?”

Yunho is quick on the uptake, giving you that same smile that looks far less innocent now than it did out at the gala. “You have to earn that privilege, my prince. So I will ask you again – are you going to be good for me, or are you going to disobey?”

As tempting as it is to disobey him and see what he does next, Mingi looks at you like he’s pleading for you to say no so he can finally be touched already, and the offer of having your turn in charge at a later point is one you cannot refuse. You simply smile back at him, sweet as you can muster.

“I will be good today, sir.”

“Sir,” Yunho echoes, increasingly pleased with himself. “Yes, that’s more like it. Now, stay still. Mingi, climb on top of him.”

“I– Okay.” Mingi doesn’t look incredibly sure of himself, but he definitely is keen either way, the mattress dipping as he awkwardly climbs over you in his haste to please Yunho. His legs sit outside yours, his hands on either side of your head, and when he meets your eyes from his new angle, his eyes widen and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi,” you parrot back at him with a giggle, craning your neck up to peck his lips once. “You’re very cute, you know that?”

He beams from above you, and it doesn’t matter that his head is blocking most of the light above you because his smile is positively radiant enough to outshine them all. “Thanks. I try.”

“Unbutton his shirt,” Yunho orders, tracing a hand down Mingi’s spine, and he is quick to follow, long fingers working at the buttons of your suit. Yunho gives you a warning look as you reach to help him, but you cut him off before he can say anything.

“I’m fine with it up to here,” you state clearly, holding the shirt at its most open without exposing your full chest, leaving a button done in the middle. “I would rather not take it off. After all, I look so good in it, wouldn’t it be a waste? Our Princess gifted me this, you know. Custom made.”

“You do look incredibly handsome in it,” Mingi confirms, returning your affectionate peck. “I’m glad you decided to wear it after all.”

“Very well. That’s still plenty of room to work with,” Yunho nods, understanding your deflection and not pushing it. As your buttons were coming undone, he was slowly undoing the lace on the back of Mingi’s gown, and he seems to finally notice it when Yunho grabs the fabric and starts pulling it down enough to reveal the expanse of his back. He leans over Mingi again, much like when he had him between the two of you and you against the railing, both of them caging you in place, to whisper right next to Mingi’s ear. “Go on then, kiss him. Mark up what’s ours, even, if you’re so inclined.”

The question is directed to you as much as it is to Mingi, checking your face over Mingi’s shoulder for any objection, but you meet him with a smile. “Go ahead, princess. Don’t be afraid to use teeth or leave them visibly.”

Mingi’s breath hitches, looking at you then glancing over his shoulder at Yunho. “Um. How do I…?”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d ask that,” Yunho chuckles, voice rumbling deep in his chest, before attaching his lips to Mingi’s neck and sucking, grazing his teeth against the skin before soothing it over with his tongue. The way he stiffens and gasps beneath him, eyes going wide, has you biting your lip in anticipation. “Like that. Keep doing it and it’ll leave quite the scandalous bruise. How do you like it?”

“I really like it.” He speaks in a hurry, not able to reply fast enough. “C-Can you do it again?”

Yunho nods towards you, breath still fanning over Mingi’s neck. “Try it on him, and I’ll mirror your every action.” Yunho obviously must have been planning this ever since he put you in this position, but you don’t get the chance to wonder how many steps he’s planned ahead.

Mingi wastes no time, diving down to kiss and suck at your neck far less timidly than you expected or were prepared for; the sound that leaves your lips has you heating up with embarrassment – among other things – but it’s mostly drowned out by the way Mingi moans against your skin at Yunho doing the very same to him. For how shy he seemed before, he’s surprisingly shameless; while you bite down on your lips to spare yourself just an ounce of dignity, Mingi keeps humming softly as he kisses down your neck to your chest, Yunho copying his movements down to his upper back.

Getting increasingly excited, he bites down at the soft spot right above your collarbone hard enough to make you whine and buck your hips on instinct, Mingi moaning again when Yunho bites his shoulder hard enough to leave a matching bite mark there.

“You two really like being bitten and marked up, don’t you?” Yunho muses aloud, delicate fingers trailing over the marks he and Mingi both left. “Princess, let me give you a tip.”

His tip isn’t verbal; instead he shifts back on the bed and grabs Mingi’s leg, shoving it between yours so his knee presses up at your core before resuming his position hovering over the both of you. “Now, try that again.”

You already know he must’ve noticed how your body reacted the first time, but you don’t try and fight it when Mingi bites you again and your hips move on their own accord, grinding on Mingi’s leg. He lets out a pleased grunt at the realisation, repeating the action but this time grabbing your hips and pulling you harder against him.

“Is that okay?”

“More than okay,” you breathe out shakily, clutching at his shoulders, conscious of leaving enough space for Yunho’s lips to roam still. “Th-Though, shouldn’t we be focusing on Mingi, sir? It’s his first time after all.”

Yunho clicks his tongue, pulling back to admire his handiwork. “And such, he likely won’t last long. Forgive me for being greedy, darlings, but I want to drag out this moment for as long as you’ll allow me. Besides,” he shoves Mingi’s head down back towards your chest, who obediently doesn’t even need to be told to put his mouth back to work, “He’s just so eager to please us. I hardly hear any complaints from him.”

“I have none, sir,” Mingi confirms, his cheek pressed to your rapid heartbeat, like he can’t break that contact between you even if he needs his mouth to speak. “I could kiss you all day.”

He shudders when Yunho’s hands venture lower, pushing up his dress then caressing his thighs up to his ass. “Have you touched yourself here before, Princess?”

“Ah– y-yes, I have.”

“Oh? Our sweet princess not so innocent after all? And tell me, love, what did you think about when you did?”

You have a feeling he already knows what the answer is gonna be, and the way Mingi dips his head to avoid your gaze confirms it.

“You, sir,” he mumbles, biting his lip as Yunho pressed his clothed hips forward to the curve of his ass. “Sometimes the guards, or this one really pretty advisor, but... it always came back to you.”

Yunho surges forward, pulling Mingi up back to his chest, one hand firmly holding his jaw and the other gripping his inner thigh. “That’s right. Because this ass is mine, isn’t it? Always has been.”

Mingi moans weakly in response, which is adorable considering Yunho didn’t even touch him where he’s aching for it. Wanting to join in on the fun, you grab Mingi’s frankly impressive length with both your hands and squeeze, him gasping and instinctively thirsting into your grip.

“In that case, his cock is mine,” you declare boldly, twisting your soft hands around the head, collecting the wetness gathering there and spreading it across him, drinking in every twitch and detail of his face as he melts under your touch. “How does that sound, mm?”

“Hmm...” Yunho pretends to think about it for a bit as he slips two long fingers into Mingi’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue. “Seems agreeable. Though I do expect you’d be kind enough to share if I so desired it?”

“Of course,” you hum in response, spitting on Mingi’s dick and laughing airily as he whimpers around Yunho’s fingers, effectively reduced to a mess before even reaching the main event. You suppose it’s to be expected, having never done this before, but it’s no less amusing to see just how quickly he crumbles. “I do expect the same, of course. Granted, I may not be able to claim him the same way you can, but I’m sure I can put my hands and tongue to good use.”

“Please,” Mingi whines, a string of saliva connecting his plump, kiss-swollen lips with Yunho’s fingers. “Stop teasing.”

“What did I say about patience, princess?”

He doesn’t get to reply, whatever he was going to say cut off with another sinful sound as Yunho’s fingers finally breached his rim. With the other man not holding him up anymore, he keens forward, bending over until he’s once more hovering over you with arms on either side of you.

He really, really likes kissing, evident in the way he brings your mouths together once more and moans against it as Yunho’s skilled fingers work him open. His lips stutter as the two of you work your hands on him in tandem, him barely able to kiss you back, haphazardly just trying to press his mouth to yours. You can’t keep your hands off him, running them along his sides, his thighs, his back, his neck, and not-too-gently grabbing a fistful of his hair at the back of his neck, greedily swallowing all the pretty noises he makes.

“I‐I'm ready,” Mingi parts from you – barely – to insist, but it only earns him a dark, rumbly chuckle from Yunho. “You can—”

“No, you’re not,” Yunho says simply, continuing his leisurely place and sliding in now a fourth finger.

“Just because it’s my first time doesn’t mean I don’t—”

“Trust me,” Yunho chuckles again, leaning down to kiss the top of his head, “You aren’t.”

He finally works his belt off and pants down with one hand, and it very quickly becomes apparent exactly why; Yunho is huge. Mingi is already impressive enough, much bigger and longer than your limited experience with the guards, but Yunho is thick and heavy, making his large hands looking normal-sized as he strokes himself.

“Oh.” Mingi swallows as he looks over his shoulder, seeing it for himself, eyes blowing wide. “Y-Yeah, suppose you’re right.”

The quick change of mind has you giggling lightly, unable to resist pecking him on the cheek, but he doesn’t even acknowledge it, staring directly at Yunho’s dick.

Yunho hesitates. “If it’s too much we can—”

“No, I want it,” Mingi affirms, pushing back onto his fingers with a newfound determination. “I really want it. I want you. Please.”

You’re content to just watch them and wait your turn, but Yunho seems to notice you resigning yourself to a spectating role, and pulls you back in. He leans over Mingi to kiss you sweetly, just long enough to acknowledge you there still before he pulls away from Mingi completely.

“Princess, on your back. We have to please our dear prince too, don’t we?”

Mingi nods so quickly and intensely his crown slips sideways on his head, which is a cutely messed look on him. You like it, but you have an idea of a look you’ll like even more, taking the crown from him and swapping it with the tiara atop yours. It compliments him far better than it does you, you think, and seeing him wearing what’s so uniquely yours has your heart swelling and the heat between your legs throbbing.

“A tiara fit for a princess, don’t you think?” you muse, and Yunho nods with a smile.

“It suits him. You should see yourself like this, Mingi. You’re a vision.”

He truly is, flushed and thoroughly tousled from his hair to his dress, his hard cock resting heavy on his stomach and dripping onto the expensive fabric. You only wish you could ask a court painter to preserve such a sight, but depending on how he feels about it, you wonder if that could actually be possible once Yunho becomes King.

Shockingly enough, Mingi doesn’t appear embarrassed at all, not this time. He’s now just staring at you, eyes glittering in the warm light of the bejewelled chandelier above, mouth hanging slightly agape.

“It’s perfect,” he murmurs, and you know he isn’t referring to your tiara on him. “So handsome… my perfect prince.”

“You’re right,” Yunho confirms assertively, nuzzling your neck and gently grazing his teeth along it. “Our perfect, pretty prince. Now it’s our time to thank you, hm? For changing both of our lives so drastically in the span one evening. Truly, Choeya will be lucky to have such a wilful King Consort.”

Mingi beams, almost in a daze. “I think we’re the luckiest to have such a perfect partner.”

“That we are.”

Now it’s your turn for your face to burn under the earnest praise and title, dumbstruck smile playing on your lips before you can do anything to stop it. For someone always running your mouth, it renders you positively speechless, and you’re hastily shedding your pants and undergarments to hover over Mingi in just your barely buttoned suit blazer. You’re about to tease him again at how responsive he is before your core has even touched him, but a chuckle from behind you informs you it was the work of Yunho’s long fingers once more.

“Relax yourself for me, princess, or this will be harder for you,” Yunho instructs once he’s satisfied with his prep, pressing his tip to Mingi’s quivering hole.

“I sure hope it’s hard for me,” he blurts out without thinking, and after a beat of silence, the three of you crack up into laughter at the same time. It’s silly, corny, and a little bit unfitting for the mood, but you find yourself endlessly endeared with his humour nonetheless, pressing more and more kisses to his face, neck and chest in between your giggles. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

“Good,” Yunho breathes out slowly, “I don’t want you to hold anything back from us.”

The drawn-out sound he makes at Yunho pushing into him proves he doesn’t plan on it, his body tensing beneath you before catching himself and taking a shaky breath in an attempt to relax.

“That’s it, my love,” you coo, lifting his tiara to stroke his hair softly as Yunho pushes in single inch at a time, giving Mingi plenty of time to adjust. “Just like that. You’re doing so well for us.”

Once fully sheathed, Yunho lets out a throaty groan that’s the first indication of his controlled façade beginning to crack, but he holds himself back from moving just yet.

“Fuck,” he growls, hands digging into your hips rather than Mingi’s as to not overwhelm him while he still gets used to the intrusion and giving you something to focus on in the meantime. “So good for me, princess, so good for us.”

Mingi’s face falls to the side, teeth digging into his bottom lip, but when he opens his eyes he’s met with his reflection staring back at him in crystal clarity, able to see just how thoroughly messed up he is already.

“Oh gods,” he breathes out, “I almost forgot about that. This is why it’s there, isn’t it?”

The wicked grin on Yunho’s face confirms his suspicions, the man still unmoving to give Mingi more space to breathe, but busying his hands with running them all over your body. “Quite the bright one, aren’t you? Yes, I like to make sure I don’t miss a single detail. After all…”

He spreads Mingi’s legs wider apart for a better view in the mirror, pulling out and pushing back in only the smallest amount, but it’s enough to make Mingi’s breath stutter.

“This way, you can see me inside you and you inside our prince at the same time.”

Mingi groans at the mere words, head rolling back on the sheets. “At the same time? Oh gods, if I die here, I’m dying a happy man.”

The two of you giggle at that, Yunho nodding at you to go ahead and sit down on Mingi already, so you wrap a hand around him and line him up to your entrance, sinking down on him incredibly slowly for both you and his sakes.

He’s so tense and wound up you can see it on just about every muscle on his body, and you don’t doubt he’s gripping Yunho like a vice with the way he’s taking deep, controlled breaths behind you. You appreciate the mirror now even more than you initially thought you would – looking to the side allows you to view the taller man situated at your back, and see the way he bottoms out into the man beneath you; the vision alone almost has you as dizzy as the stretch. You can only imagine what Yunho’s would feel like.

“How are you faring, darling?” you ask down at Mingi after a few moments, who’s finally starting to breathe normally again.

“I think… I’m good. You can move now, but maybe start one at a time…?”

Yunho takes his chance as soon as he hears it, his controlled demeanour crumbling under the sensation of Mingi wrapped so tightly around him, and starts very shallowly rocking his hips into him with a low grunt from the back of his throat. It’s a stark contrast to the almost melodious moan Mingi lets out in comparison, his deep baritone voice raising in pitch at the feeling, and it makes you clench around him on instinct despite sitting perfectly still.

“Ah– o-oh gods, that’s heavenly– ngh–!”

His cute, broken-up whines are music to your ears as Yunho steadily ups his pace until he’s no longer fucking just the tip of himself into the other man, but bottoming out completely with each thrust, the movement making Mingi shake enough to give you some sort of friction while waiting for your signal to move. It comes not long later with a desperate grab of your thighs, nails digging into the soft flesh and a broken out “Y-You can– you can– move…!” from the very overwhelmed princess.

Both Mingi and Yunho hiss at the same time when you finally lift yourself up and drop yourself back onto him, gasping at the fullness of how well he stretches you out, but the pleasure from it is white-hot. Repeating the movement again and again, you find both of them grabbing at you in an attempt to ground themselves, but it doesn’t seem to be working well – at least for Mingi, who has his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, body quivering with very thrust and bounce of your hips.

“You’re fucking huge, Mingi,” you moan through gritted teeth, savouring every drag of his generous length against your walls, “S–So fucking good, gods, fuck!”

“Quite the foul mouth you have on you, hmm?” Yunho teases, sticking two fingers in your mouth and turning your head towards the headboard mirror so you can see the way he smirks darkly at you while fucking Mingi still, his other hand intertwined with Mingi’s on the sheets. “One of these days I’ll have to clean it out myself, I think.”

You can’t do much but moan around his fingers and keep rolling your hips into Mingi’s, reaching down to rub at yourself to heighten the feeling of it all, but Mingi is quick to yelp and grab your waist with an almost startling strength.

“Wait– stop– hold on!” Mingi stammers, pulling you off him abruptly as both you and Yunho still to a complete halt, glancing down at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Yunho is the first to mutter, pulling out of him completely, but Mingi shakes his head, slumping back down on the bed and covering his face with an arm in embarrassment.

“Sorry. I was really about to come like that and it was just too fast.”

“Oh!” With a smile, you sigh in relief at the reassurance that it was okay, then giggle at how worked up he must be right now. You understand his embarrassment, but truthfully, it’s more complimentary than it is a letdown – you can’t resist teasing him for it, though. “That close so soon? My, my, what ever will we do with you?”

“Tease!” Mingi whines, muffled behind his arm, “It’s my first time, give me a break!”

Yunho chuckles, gently prying Mingi’s arm away. “That we will, princess, don’t worry. I know it must be a lot. Do you want one of us to stop?”

He frowns at that, pouty lips only making him look all the more irresistible. “But… I want to make you both feel good still.”

“Think you can try using your mouth?” you suggest helpfully, not minding to be the one giving it up if it means avoiding any further close calls – as alluring as the thought was, you didn’t want to risk any scares for later. You don’t expect Mingi to nod so eagerly, but he does, and before you can suggest to change positions, he’s already pulling you over his face by your thighs and keening up towards you.

“You’ll have to guide me a little,” he mumbles, “but I want to learn. A-And Yunho, you can… keep going. It feels really, really good.”

The Crown Prince didn’t need to be told twice for that one, repositioning himself to slide right back in and continue the pace where he left off, Mingi’s face instantly contorting into one of only the utmost pleasure. You slowly lower yourself to his waiting tongue with the gentle command to suck, a hand in his hair guiding him to finding your clit, and as soon as your body jolts in response he is relentless. Sloppy and uncoordinated by all means but with enough eagerness to more than make up for it, he holds you there and laps at you enthusiastically, the vibrations of his moans as Yunho continues to pound him sending all sorts of pleasurable waves through you.

“Keep fucking him like that, Yunho,” you pant, grinding against his tongue, “He moans so fucking pretty for us, doesn’t he?”

“The prettiest,” Yunho agrees, brows scrunched tight with tension and a thin sheen of sweat accumulating on his skin that only made him glow under the light of the chandelier. “He’s so fucking tight, too, fuck, if only you could feel this.”

You don’t get to linger on how much you wish you could do exactly that, because Mingi flicks his tongue in a way that has you crushing his head between your thighs, but his muffled groans sound like he’s more than happy to be there. With all the movement and violent jerking of your body, Mingi’s – your? – crown slips off your head, but Yunho’s reflexes are fast enough to catch it and prop it back on.

“A prince needs his crown,” he coos, slowing down to lean forward and kiss your temple while making eye contact in the mirror. Mingi whines pathetically at the change in pace, but Yunho only finds it amusing. “Aw, our sweet princess. Need to come?”

Mingi nods fervently – well, as much s he can from between your legs, so you lift yourself off his face to let him catch his breath. “P-Please, I’m so close!”

“Me too,” Yunho grunts, abruptly snapping his hips forward again and making Mingi cry out as the rapid pace from earlier resumes, the bed shaking in the onslaught of pleasure. Noticing your hesitancy to sit on Mingi’s face again, the princess looking far too blissed out and gone to be of any help right now, Yunho takes the initiative to pull your back to his chest and hold you with one arm, hand diving down to press and rub at your clit roughly. He’s hasty, but a lot more controlled than Mingi’s mouth was, and you find yourself struggling to stay upright if not for Yunho’s steady grip on you.

“Ohh fuck– you’re both so– ngh– I’m gonna– c–“

Mingi’s back arches off the mattress as his voice cuts out completely, writhing and thrashing about as his cock stains the under layers his dress with long ropes of white, over and over until he has no more left to give. The sight is ultimately what sends you over, moaning their names as your high finally crashes down on you, grinding down onto Yunho’s large hand to ride out the wave.

“Fuuuck,” Yunho growls, low and guttural with none of his cool composure left as he pulls out and frantically strokes himself to completion after holding back all this time, spurting his seed across your thighs. You and Mingi watch in the mirror with heavy breaths as he keeps bucking into his fist until he’s twitching from the overstimulation, then finally crumbles back down on his knees, panting.

He looks to the mirror at his side, eyes half-lidded and dark, cursing under his breath again at the vision before him; the two of you thoroughly messed up, sweaty, covered in come and with crowns crooked atop your heads, while he remains almost fully dressed and put together. He flashes you two a hazy smile.

“How about a bath?”

When you aren’t seen for the rest of the gala, no one says a word in protest. When you don’t take your carriage back to Uchia, they don’t wait for you. Neither do the Reujian carriages for Mingi, but neither of you have a problem with that.

When Yunho’s Coronation finally comes, you and Mingi have only seen the start of the beauties Choeya has to offer, from the perfectly sculpted face and body of its King to its beaches and rolling hills – Yunho insists he’ll take the two of you to their mountains someday, maybe he’ll even marry you up there – but you already know you’re going to love every part of it. The less beautiful parts of Choeya, Yunho has already been working hard to fix, getting your input on how to improve the country’s poorer regions and make transportation routes safer for merchants, and you know that things will quickly change under his rule as King.

When that large, jewel-encrusted crown finally is placed upon his head, Mingi slips his hand into yours as you stand by Yunho’s side; while he has yet to announce any plans of marriage to the kingdom, it’s obvious that the three of you are in separable, and since have already been referred to as the King’s Consorts. While a part of you holds some bitterness at being given the respect you deserve only after being accepted by someone as powerful as a king, you bite that down to make the most of your newly gained privilege and acknowledge that it was your hard work and bravery that got you here in the first place. Almost as if he can read your mind, Mingi squeezes your hand as if to remind you that.

“I now present to you, His Majesty King Jeong Yunho of Choeya.”

The crowd cheers from beneath you, and you and Mingi clap for him too – he turns around and smiles at you from ear to ear, like the two of you make him happier than his coronation ever could – and then he turns back to his people.

“My first act as King is an important one,” he starts, projecting his voice to be heard as far as he can reach. “I hereby declare that anyone has the right to be whoever they want to be, and love whoever they want to love. Anyone who objects this can have a hasty escort to the dungeons.”

Your eyes grow hot with tears threatening to spill, almost unable to believe the dream you’re living in. Finally. Finally. With a quick glance you see Mingi much in the same boat, eyes glossy but unable to keep from smiling so wide his cheeks probably hurt. This is the freedom you’ve been praying for since you were a child, the freedom you had given up on long ago, but it’s here, it’s finally here, and it’s so much better than you could’ve possibly imagined – even with the barely concealed looks of discontent of some of the townspeople on the courtyard below. You couldn’t care less about them; things are changing now, and they’ll either change too, or spend the rest of their lives staring at iron bars.

Yunho turns back to gesture the two of you forward, taking one hand in each. “This is Princess Mingi of Reuji, now of Choeya. He is still a man and you will address him as such.”

He shies a little under the attention, but a reassuring nod from you makes him stand a little taller.

The King introduces you by your name, your real name, not the one your mother forced upon you, loud and clear. “He is also a man, and a prince, and you will refer to him as such.”

He releases your hands, only to reach into the deep pockets of his extravagant royal regalia, pulling out a small box and taking a step back – onto one knee. Opening the box, there are two rings that lie inside, fitted with the very same red and pink jewels from your gala attire. You and Mingi gasp at the same time.

“And I will be marrying them both, if they will have me,” he continues, voice steady and refusing to falter under all the eyes on him. “As they are the loves of my life, and I wish to have them ruling Choeya by my side. Will you—”

“Yes!”

You and Mingi cut him off at the same time, giggling quietly together at your own combined eagerness. Yunho gazes up at you with all the fondness of the world in his eyes, taking each of your hands and sliding the respective rings on and standing back to his full, impressive height, then giving your hand each a kiss.

“Together, we will bring Choeya to a brighter future,” Yunho promises, ending his speech – and with your whole heart, you believe him.

Any future is bright so long as Mingi and Yunho are in it with you.

Dearest Sister, Her Royal Highness, Princess of Uchia.

I miss you. How have you been? I heard the news about your upcoming coronation, congratulations. While the news of Mother’s sudden passing was most unfortunate, I do hope you don’t expect much grievance from me. She wasn’t much of a mother to you either, was she?

Times are changing now. I’m sure you’ve heard of Yunho’s coronation by now, I understand if any letter you may have sent simply hasn’t arrived yet. He proposed to both me and Mingi and we said yes. The three of us are going to get married in the Choeyan mountains later this year, and I would love for you to come. You can bring your stableboy, too. Will you marry him, now that you have the freedom to do so? Please do invite me to the wedding if so.

We hope to unite Choeya and Uchia with this marriage, then Reuji will have no choice but to follow suite. May I have your blessing as future Queen, dear sister? We will be able to be family still, and both our kingdoms shall prosper for generations to come.

I would also like to thank you once again for the kindness you offered me before the gala, even though I didn’t have to use it. With this letter I am sending gifts of my gratitude – please take them. You and your stableboy are always welcome in Choeya at any time.

I love you. Long live the future Queen.

Your Brother, His Royal Highness, King Consort of Choeya.

Dearest Brother, His Royal Highness, King Consort of Choeya.

The bitch is dead, you and I are now free. I shall see you at the wedding – whichever of ours comes first.

Long live the King.

With love,

Your Sister, Her Royal Highness, Queen of Uchia.

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