multifictionx

[multifictionx]

all tied up {part 1}

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: angst, eventual smut

Word count: 10.5k

Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts (all the smut happens in part 2)

A/n: Well I had the goal of making this maybe 2k words initially, and now it's 22.4k so I decided to split it into two parts (please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)

Read part 2 here

Read it on ao3

"Morning."

Your coworker's tone is cold as ice, as if he swallowed the winter air on his way to the building and was now spitting it at you. 

"Hi," you grunt, not bothering to look up from your desk. 

It was a biting, harsh morning, and the headache you were nursing wasn't doing any favors to your mood. Only minutes into your work day you already felt bleary, your legs still shivering from the short walk between the subway station and the twenty-story building your office rested in. In the mornings you woke it from its slumber; the lights in the lobby blinking on, even the heater rumbling awake as you walked through the door, as if it took a break from its job all night, too. It certainly felt that frosty in here, especially at 7am sharp, when you stumbled in before everyone else. You preferred this early shift and were thankful to be walking out the door so early each day, early enough that even in the dead of winter the sun hadn't yet set. The early mornings never bothered you; the solitude was tender and warm with you, even if the air was cruel on these freezing winter mornings. 

The intrusion of your steely coworker was unwelcome, to say the least.

"Why are you here so early?" you ask, a sharp edge to your tone. You're bitter that you won't have your usual hour to yourself, especially given the meeting you are set to have with your boss in just a few hours. You'd needed this time to mentally prepare, and here he was ruining your plans, yet again.

"I figured I'd come in early to get work done before our little meeting with the boss," he replies, a slow sigh leaving his lips and betraying just how tense he is. Well, at least it wasn't just you. You had been dreading this morning since last Friday, when the two of you had your worst argument yet, prompting your boss to demand a meeting with you both. You had no idea what would happen; you'd never had your boss demand a scheduled meeting with you in the six years you'd worked here. Things were different now, now that you worked as a grant writer and not at the front desk, but still it was concerning. He always just met with people spontaneously, and the scheduled bi-weekly meetings for the entire administrative staff were the time where conflicts and confusion were dealt with. He'd never called just two people into his office like this; then again, no one at your company had ever butted heads like you two, so badly that it left the whole office simmering with frustration, everyone dreading the sour expression that permanently settled on your features by the end of each day. You were so different now, so changed from the calm and happy woman they all knew.

You stood to make your way to the kitchen, passing by his desk as you went to turn on the kettle, boiling water for your first tea of the day. This morning called for multiple cups, your throat scratchy and dry from nerves, your body depleted from your lack of sleep. You'd stayed up far too late with your best friend last night, rambling about the meeting, begging her to help you come up with an excuse to stay home. She'd laughed with you, throwing out a few random ideas, but she knew as well as you did that you'd be here today. As much as you dreaded it, you would only miss this meeting if you were on your literal death bed, your job meaning too much to you to lose it.

From this angle he had a perfect view of you, your face scrunched up in concentration as you set the kettle to temperature, placing other employee's dirty dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. You were too obsessed with organization, in a way that made him irrationally angry, but he couldn't stop watching you every day, watching the way you adhered so severely to your little routines, watching the way his interruptions cast your face in worry and made you snap at him. Today, like every Monday, you wore your favorite shoes, the black platform Mary Janes. Up your legs stretched your thigh-high wool socks, also black, held up by a ruffled stretch of gray lace at the top. Over your hips lay a gray tartan skirt, reaching almost down to your socks, leaving an inch of bare thigh exposed in a way he thought wasn't really work appropriate. And then there was your black turtleneck, tight and accentuating your obviously braless chest, the curves and shapes of your body not hidden in the slightest. He was watching you intently, waiting for you to finally notice, and boy was he not disappointed when you finally did.

"You've hid my mug, haven't you," you spit, slamming the dishwasher harder than you needed to. You hadn't seen it in the cabinet, so you'd gingerly searched through the dishwasher too, desperately hoping someone else hadn't used it the previous week and neglected to wash it. Not finding it in there was a relief in some ways, but immediately you knew who was at fault for its disappearance, and his dark chuckle in response to you confirmed your suspicions ten fold. "You're such a dick," you grumble under your breath, reaching for any other random mug in the cabinet, needing something to house the tea you desperately need.

"What was that?" he asks, his tone mocking you, knowing exactly the sentiment of what you'd said even if he hadn't heard you clearly. You sigh and roll your eyes, ripping open your tea bag and plopping it in the mug, gently pouring the steaming liquid over it. "You just love to blame me for everything, don't you, even if you have no proof." His voice is low, dark, and it makes a shiver run through you even as the steam of the water warms your face. "You're cruel y/n, so cruel." His tone of voice makes you feel trapped, even all these feet away, and you just freeze for a bit, your tea steeping a bit longer than it should have. A creak of the building snaps you out of it, and you fling the tea bag into the trash, gently blowing over the mug and taking a tiny sip, testing the temperature.

Finally you turn, catching a glimpse of him. Jeong Yunho, the newest addition to your little office, hired about six months ago now, you realized. The date hit you in the gut this morning; the year had flown by, especially the last half, and in days it would no longer be this year anymore, no longer be the ending of an adventure but rather the start, when you'd have to plan again, think again. His suit today is stone gray, the color only barely darker than his wool overcoat, his tie a dark navy that really just looked black. His shoes were dark navy too; which you only knew because of the difference in the toe box from his other black shoes, the ones he normally wore. It must be a special day, he must be heading to something important after work. Some sort of meeting? No, that wouldn't really make sense, you all didn't work in a field where meetings were held outside of work hours, in restaurants or bars. Unless the meeting was about getting out of here, finding another placement. Maybe a date? Who'd want to date such an asshole, though?

He was rich and good-looking. Even you could recognize that. And boy did it irk you, that he looked so good in his suits, that he wasn't too masculine or too feminine, that his nose sloped in just the perfect way, that his smile was soft and bright and so endearing. You hadn't met many people in your life who were so captivating at first glance, and sure, when he'd first started here a part of you hoped something might happen between the two of you. You'd eat lunch at each other's desks, excitedly discussing your newest grants or talking about your favorite shows, which of course, were the same. It was a blissful few weeks, a beautiful honeymoon of sorts. Of course it couldn't last forever; you landed your dream job, everything you'd been working towards finally coming true last year, a new perfect apartment with your best friend being the cherry on top. Of course this year a man appeared and tried to ruin everything.

The two of you work in silence until 7:45, when everyone else starts arriving for the day, led of course by Dr. Acharya, the supervising psychotherapist. Next is Tally, who gives you a short wave as she heads to reception, her horn-rimmed glasses peeking over the window to blow you a kiss when she finds the mug of tea you'd made waiting for her. Soon many others scramble in together; Marnie, Amir, Rua, and Keisha, each making their way to their individual offices to ready themselves for their first clients. Soon Jongho, in charge of billing and accounting, walks in too, sitting down at his desk next to Yunho. And finally Eliana stumbles in just before eight, her giant coffee in hand, her eyes slightly dark with panic like they always are as she rushes into her office. Your boss, Mr. Kangsoo, won't be in for another hour at least and the day lurches forward as the first clients of the day are brought back for their counseling sessions, the office breaking into a low hum that will stay with you until you leave.

Your digitizing task today is boring but necessary, and that headache isn't leaving you, even with the tea warming your throat and your favorite piano concerto comforting you through the morning. You always loved Rachmaninov in the winter. But even so, your mood was sour, too sour. Yunho and Jongho's comfortable chatter was making your blood boil, making it hard for you to focus on your stupid, tedious task. In a huff you stand, heading straight for the reception office, papers in hand.

"Hi hi," Tally greets you as you open her door, gently closing it behind you.

"Dude, I'm dreading this meeting," you say immediately, sighing.

"Why? I'm sure nothing bad will come of it, Mr. Kangsoo loves you," she says, canceling an appointment on her screen and typing out a note.

"I know, I'm just already pissy today, not exactly the best mood to be bringing to the boss's office," you chuckle, setting your papers on the corner of her desk. "I kept neglecting digitizing this pile and now I can't stop obsessing over it. And Yunho came in early today, and hid my fucking mug. Again."

"Did you see this?" she asks, grabbing a sticky note from the corner of her computer and holding it out to you.

Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?

"God he's such an ass," you whisper, making Tally giggle. "Thank god for you girl, I don't know what I'd do without you here."

"You're 100% sure it's Yunho?" she asks, eyeing you.

"Who else would it be?" you reply, rolling your eyes, making her laugh again. 

"Well, I guess now 'the pretty one' has been told," she giggles, rolling her eyes too as she crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash.

"Like I said, he's an ass," you reply, not as quietly this time. A parent obviously waiting for their child snaps their head up, looking in your direction. They're maybe twenty feet away, and the window between the lobby and the reception desk is small, so you doubt they really heard you. But you balk in embarrassment anyway, silencing yourself.

"I should get back to my desk, I guess," you say, sighing as you pick up your stack of papers once again.

"Just ignore him," Tally says, smiling kindly.

"I'll try," you sigh, earning a disapproving look from Tally. "I will, I promise. You're right, I know, I should just ignore him," you answer, looking over to see the back of his head, his large hands crossed over each other and resting there on his jet black hair.  Fuck him, you can't help but think. Everything had been going so well, and you'd never been someone who got into drama at work, ever. It was a point of pride for you for a long time, a huge reason why your boss gave you the position he did and trusted you to be a part of his team. Now it had all been ruined, by this fucking asshole, in his perfectly tailored suits.

The day dragged on, your mind spinning with anxiety. It wouldn't leave you until that dreaded meeting, you knew that, so you busied yourself with scanning and organizing the files, not bothering to try to get any writing done. There was no way you would, not in this state.

Finally your boss arrived, his heavy footsteps sending waves of dread through you, your stomach a fluttering mess. You hadn't been able to eat this morning, which was very unlike you; you could feel how weak you were from the lack of sustenance, the adrenaline making you shakier than it normally did. You stumbled on wobbly legs towards his office once he called for you, Yunho's presence dark and foreboding behind you, and you swore you heard him whisper 'behave yourself' as the two of you passed into the office. Your blood was boiling as you sat down, the two chairs facing the front of your boss's desk, your face a permanent scowl as you stared Yunho down, watching him settle himself down in the chair and spread his legs farther than he needed to, looking all too comfortable.

"Ok, to start, this is not to scare you, or fire you," your boss begins, already zeroing in on the dynamic between you; the cool and collected look of Yunho, and the angry, stricken look of you, your eyes deep with worry when you meet your boss's gaze. "You both know me, I don't really do this sort of thing. I don't need to control you all, to be a good leader." He sighs deeply, looking almost as pained as you do, like he's mulled this over for too long himself. "I just can't let this go on any longer. The conflict between you two is affecting everyone, and it's clearly affecting your own work, too. I can see it in the quality of your writing. You are both very smart, very good grant writers, and even so you've been doing a good job, but I know you both can do better. And this fighting, it really needs to stop." He sighs deeply again, shaking his head subtly, like his subconscious is trying to rid itself of the stress you two have caused him. It makes so many feelings bloom in your guts, but the overwhelming one is guilt, the feeling so entirely consuming that you have the urge to jump to the floor now and start babbling out apologies. But you stop yourself, stop the tears from coming, and taking a deep breath you regain some composure. You know your boss, and you know his cadence, so you know he has more to say.

"So, we're figuring this out today. I don't care what it takes, we're settling this. So tell me, why do you two fight so much?" His eyes sweep back and forth, eyeing each of you for any sign, any subtle movement that could give him some idea of what was going on. He had his own theories, but he really couldn't be sure, and due to his laid back nature with his staff, he hadn't been monitoring you two enough to really know. With a sigh he leans back in his chair, letting the silence hang in the room until one of you is willing to break it.

"Sir, I don't think she's liked me from the moment I started here," Yunho finally speaks up, leaning forward in his chair and setting his elbows on his knees, the casual and confident gesture making your skin crawl. "I think she's been trying to make me miserable, so I'll leave-"

"That is not tru-"

"I think she feels some sort of ownership here, cause she's worked here so much longer than m-"

"That is absolutely not true!" you cry, your shot nerves leaving you unable to control your volume. "I would never try to run someone out of the office that way, that's completely unprofessional! He's the one who started all of this, he's the one who leaves nasty notes for me and hides my things and puts me down constantly in every admin meeting, trying to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone! If we're really gonna go there, I think he feels intimidated by my experience here, by the fact that I have a clearly established relationship with everyone, that you and all the therapists like me, and that even though he has more experience than me I'm still writing better grants!"

"Y/n, please keep yo-" your boss starts.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he left a note for me on Tally's computer this morning! How unprofessional is that! Now he's dragging her into our drama too, which I promise you I've never done! I-"

"Oh sure, you've never complained about me to anyone in the office," Yunho juts in, rolling his eyes. "It's not like everyone here sides with you on everything, always. If it weren't for Jongho I think you would have made everyone in this office hate me by now."

"Everyone loves you here, what do you mean?" you shoot back, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I never talk about you to any of them, not even Tally. Because I know it would be wrong. Maybe everyone sides with me on certain issues because I'm right, have you ever considered that?! And by the way, Tally thinks poorly of you because of her own observations, because she doesn't like the things you say to me. So that has everything to do with you and your shitty behavior-" you cut yourself off, slapping a hand over your mouth. Because as comfortable as you are with your boss, you never, ever curse in front of him. It's an unspoken rule in the office, and one you'd never struggled to follow before. Shame washes over you like a wave of boiling water, making your whole body begin to shake.

"I'm so sorry, sir," you bow your head to him, your eyes closed as you fight to keep yourself from bursting into tears.

"She's obviously quite emotionally unstable, sir," Yunho pipes up from beside you, and of all the things he's said recently it's definitely the most hurtful. Your head shoots up, a single tear racing down your cheek despite your attempts to keep it at bay, and you just stare at him, your face betraying everything you're feeling.

"There's no need for that sort of insult right now, Yunho," your boss scolds him. "I need you two to resolve this, not fight even more. So tell me about this note, what did it say? Why did you leave a note for y/n on Tally's desk?"

"I'm sorry sir, I understand," Yunho responds, his perfectly respectful tone and gestures looking so put on. "And honestly sir, I have no idea what y/n is talking about. I didn't leave any notes for anyone this morning."

"Oh, so you're going to lie right to our boss's face?" you ask him, your volume lower but your anger still evident. "Do I need to go grab Tally? Seriously?"

"Did this note have my name on it anywhere?" he chuckles, fixing you with a strong gaze. And if you aren't mistaken, there's some sort of twinkle in his eye, almost like he's enjoying this. Is it seeing you suffer, seeing the anger and sadness in your eyes that makes him feel joy? Or maybe it's just messing with you in front of your boss, forcing you to over-explain yourself to the point of looking hysterical. Whatever it is it makes you uneasy, your stomach feeling like it might fall out of your ass at any moment.

"Sir, it said, 'Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?" you say, exasperated. "He just said he thinks I've been trying to drive him out. It was obviously him who left that note." You turn your body to face your boss again, not wanting to catch even a glimpse of Yunho anymore, your eyes pleading with Mr. Kangsoo to believe you.

"Sir, I did not write that. I would never say something so inappropriate about a coworker," Yunho adds, and though you don't see it, he's staring right at you. Your boss sighs heavily, your eyes fixed to the way he's staring at Yunho, the lines in his forehead deep with frustration. He looks like he's about to start speaking but then stops himself, another deep breath moving through his lungs, before running his hands through his hair and leaning back in his chair again.

"God, I wish you two would just sleep with each other already and get it out of your systems," he groans under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear, your whole body on high alert.

"What?!" you snap, your response involuntary. You had respected this man for years, admired the way he ran this office with calm confidence and respect for everyone, and you couldn't believe something so inappropriate had just come out of his mouth.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be gross. I just can't help but wonder if part of the issue between the two of you is, well, the obvious attraction," Mr. Kangsoo responds, sighing deeply. "I do sincerely apologize if I'm reading things incorrectly, or if that last comment made you uncomfortable. I don't in any way want to encourage my employees to sleep with each other, obviously, and that just slipped out of my mouth. It was inappropriate, I know. I just feel like I'm at my wit's end with you two, and I feel desperate to find some sort of solution. Because you both are incredible employees and I don't want to have to get rid of either of you."

"I'm so sorry sir, that this whole situation with us two has caused you stress, but I can assure you there's no attraction here. Only dislike," you reply, letting out a shaky breath.

"No attraction at all, sir," Yunho adds, making you feel disgusted at actually agreeing with him for once.

"Then why the constant arguing?" your boss asks.

"Like I said sir, he's been tormenting me-"

"She clearly has something against me sir, and I don't know what I could do to change tha-"

"You don't know what you could do?? Maybe stop being so mean to me!" you cry out again.

"Y/n, keep your voice down, this is my last warning," your boss cuts in, his face stern. "You know I see you as almost a daughter to me, you started working here when you were what, 17? And now you've finished your degree, made so many strides in the last few years. I'm proud of you and everything you've accomplished, but I'm struggling to feel proud right now, with how you've been acting recently in the office. It isn't like you. I know Yunho is at fault for this too, and I want you to know I've already talked to him about his comments made during our admin meetings. What he said a few weeks ago, insinuating that you didn't understand the "actual point" of your role in this company because you have less experience than him, was uncalled for. So was his comment earlier. But I see too that you are quick to jump on everything he says, to assume that everything he does has ill intent towards you, and I don't think that that's fair either. I know you're more mature than this," he finishes, his eyes soft as he looks at you.

"I don't think I am, sir," you squeak out, your voice breaking as more tears well in your eyes.

"Y/n, I won't have this. I need you to approach this like you've approached everything else in your life, with the goal of actually understanding it. Don't give up on this now," he says, his voice stern but encouraging in that special way only he can be.

"Sir, how am I supposed to feel watching you accept her hysterics?" Yunho asks, his face tense with annoyance.

"God, you're cruel," you whisper, curling into a ball on your chair, not caring that you're wearing a short skirt and you probably shouldn't be holding your legs this way.

"Yunho, you're getting on my last fucking nerve today," your boss snaps, and both of you have wide eyes of shock, Mr. Kangsoo not one to curse in the office, either. "This entire conversation went worse than I expected, and your uncalled for comments show me that maybe you're not as mature as I originally thought you were. You came in with great references, son, and you clearly are very smart, but you must realize you're up against someone who's been working for me for six years, and who has proven time and time again to be basically the perfect employee. This conflict is a blip on the radar for her, but for you it's been happening almost the entire time I've known you. I want to believe the best in you, but you must understand how this looks from my perspective."

You both just sit frozen, like two kids in time-out, your faces different versions of disappointment. Your eyes are slightly red from crying, and your knees are still pulled up to your chin, your arms squeezing so tightly around them that it hurts.

"I've had it with this conversation, I don't think this is going to work. Which I should have known, it's clear that conversation between the two of you always leads to conflict," your boss continues. "I'm sending you both home, right now, and I'm demanding that you figure out this thing between you, or I'm firing you both. You have a week. Do not return to this office until the two of you have sorted out your issues, and can promise me you will not fight ever again going forward," he states, his arms crossed over his chest.

You both gawk at him, your faces looking almost identical, as you try to take in what he's just told you.

"Sir, I-" Yunho starts, but even he's stumbling over his words with just how shocked he is. "I don't think this is fair, sir. You should- you can't force us to make up, that isn't going to happen. This- we- we'll both be fired by next week," he stumbles out, his collected demeanor finally shattering.

"With all due respect, son, this is my company. I can do what I want. And this is what I feel is best. So both of you go, now, I won't hear another word. Out," he demands, standing and nodding towards his door.

You rise without a word, your body shaking dramatically from the heaps of adrenaline still coursing through you. Silently you grab your coat and scarf, packing up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, walking to the kitchen to grab your lunch out of the fridge. You make your way towards the front door, stopping briefly at reception to look at Tally, her curly hair hanging down as she furiously types away at a document. Finally she looks up and sees your face, her own twisting into concern and confusion.

"What happened?" she whispers.

"I- I don't know," you respond, shaking your head. "Ask boss about it, I'm sure he'll tell you," you sigh, wiping another tear from your eyes. "I can't stay, I have to go," you squeak, giving her a quick hug, before turning and walking towards the front door again, nearly bumping into Yunho. You don't give him the courtesy of an apology, instead storming past him, walking angrily towards the elevator.

And of course you take the elevator down together, the silence awkward and tense and indescribable. You know he'll probably be walking down to the subway station with you, and it doesn't even surprise you when he gets on the same line as you, heading the same direction. But when he gets off at the same exact stop and you feel him walking up the stairs behind you, you can't just accept it any longer.

"Are you fucking following me?" you spit over your shoulder, your eyes dark with anger.

"No, y/n, I live up this way," he retorts, pointing ahead of you two in the exact direction of your neighborhood.

"God, don't tell me we're neighbors," you groan, trudging down the street, the remnants of last week's snow still stuck in the gutters.

"You live in Arbol Village?" he asks, almost sounding impressed.

"On Maple street," you sigh, with a nod.

"Me too," he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This isn't funny, you fucking psychopath," you retort, angry that he's still here in your proximity, and angrier that there's only one path up into your neighborhood from this side, and the hill that leads up is making you out of breath in a way that's nothing but embarrassing.

"And you say I'm the mean one," he responds, smiling as he shakes his head.

"I really don't get how you can be so blasé about this," you huff out, your footsteps heavy as you nearly crest the hill and enter your neighborhood.

"Workplaces are shit, this is how it goes. If I have to find another job, I will. But don't think I won't go down without a fight. Mr. Kangsoo is by far the best boss I've ever worked for, so I'm going to do whatever I can to keep my position," he says, his breathing annoyingly stable even after walking the entirety of the hill. Slowly you two start into the neighborhood, but suddenly he's turning down a path towards the second house on Maple Street, the large dark one with an almost Victorian structure. 

"Of course the fancy one is your house," you sigh, seeing the ornate curtains covering only part of the front window.

"Come in, we need to talk more," Yunho says, beckoning you with his hands, but you can't be bothered. 

"Fuck no, are you crazy?" you respond, already stomping down the sidewalk past his house, not bothering to look back. The last thing you could bear is his presence right now, and for some reason you feel like you're not totally in control of yourself anyway, your legs moving so firmly they'd probably still be going even if you protested. Yunho just sighs, himself drained from the meeting you'd just left, and not having the energy to fight more. Later today, or tomorrow morning, he promised himself, he'd call you and start sorting this out for good. But for now he just watched you grow smaller and smaller, your hair blowing gently behind you in the winter breeze, your legs looking weak.

Once you were home, two and a half blocks from your asshole of a coworker, you collapsed on your bed, passing out in moments. In the late afternoon you woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut, your roommate, Yunji, calling, "shit, sorry! The wind is crazy out there!"

"You're good!" you called back, but your voice made it apparent to her that it was one of those days where you needed to be left alone, so she didn't come into your room. You picked yourself up and stripped off your work clothes, finally freeing your thighs of the tight elastics that held up your socks, two red rings now visible on your skin. Automatically you brushed your teeth, grabbing your comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, and passed out in your bed again, not even eating dinner, not checking your phone. The sun had already begun to set, the sky outside rearing for another stormy night, and your body was lulled to sleep within minutes, your head buried deep into your pillows as you pulled your comforter over your head.

You woke in what felt like minutes, your room eerily quiet. The light looked bright outside, very bright; it was disorienting, both the quiet and the light, and you lifted yourself up, squinting around in search of your phone. You'd forgotten to plug it in last night, so it surely would be almost dead. You found it still in your work bag, hanging on for dear life with the battery at five percent. The time astonished you, 9am, and you gawked at yourself. No wonder you felt so disoriented; you'd been sleeping for nearly sixteen hours.

And as you finally sorted through your notifications, your shock over the time left your brain entirely. Because the shock of having a missed call from Yunho, having two missed calls from him, floored you, literally. You sank down to the ground, furiously clicking to see the times. One was last night, at about 7pm, and the other was this morning about an hour ago. This morning he'd left a voicemail too, presumably right after you hadn't answered. With shaky hands you clicked on it, holding the phone tight to your ear so you wouldn't miss a word.

"Y/n, I know you don't like talking to me, but we really should try to sort this out earlier rather than later. Please call me back as soon as you get this."

Well, fuck.

He sounded disappointed, and frustrated, and perturbed to even be leaving the message. But god was that voice convincing, even to you, the way he worded things so eloquently and politely, like he's genuinely a good and thoughtful person. It hit you hard while listening that maybe your anger wasn't justified, maybe you'd been unfair to him like your boss had said. The sneaking feeling had graced you many times over your months of conflict, but now it felt too strong to ignore. Did he really want to sort this out? It sounded like it. Why, why, why was this so damn confusing for you?

Your mind raced as your stomach growled, as you tried to get ahold of yourself. Still sprawled out on your carpet you felt exhausted, your body somehow still feeling pulled towards sleep despite the hoards of it you'd just been allotted. You peeled yourself up, standing carefully, moving towards your window to get a view of the backyard. Looking at the garden always calmed you, even in the winter when most of the flowers were gone. And as you opened your blinds you realized why things seemed so bright this morning, and why you were barely hearing a sound.

A thick blanket of snow covered everything, flakes still falling gently from the sky which was dotted with clouds. The sun shone through a gap in them, reflected bright off the entirely white ground. You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that everyone had been forced to stay home today, so your missing work wasn't really a disruption to the office. Whoever was miffed about having to take your early shift wouldn't have to, after all. It was like the world was granting you a favor, as you often felt that she did, and you were so thankful. Because this, too, was a great excuse to avoid Yunho longer. There was no way you could leave the house with so much snow outside; it wasn't safe. You breathed in a sigh of relief, shaking it out as you finally connected your phone to charge, slipping on some thick socks and gliding your way out to the kitchen.

After breakfast you popped back into your room, shooting off a quick text.

Y/n: I just saw the snow, I don't think I can come over. Let's see tomorrow.

Almost immediately a call comes through from him, but you let it ring out. There was no way you were going to waste this beautiful snow day talking to him, and you had a whole week to resolve this anyway. It gnawed at you, in the back of your mind somewhere, but presently you just couldn't find it in yourself to voluntarily speak to him.

Yunho: We can still talk on the phone. And we really should. Y/n: We should take a break from talking and cool off. For today.

That was how you were justifying it to yourself. You needed a break, deserved a break from him. You wouldn't be able to really resolve anything if you were still pissed, and with the shock of the morning's weather and your body's obvious need for even more rest, you just couldn't take it today. Plus, everyone else was getting a day off, why couldn't you?

Yunho: I disagree

You flip your phone over, setting it on your bedside table, and you walk away. You'd had it with him arguing with you over text too, and the idea of curling up on the couch with Yunji, sipping hot cocoa and watching your favorite movies, sounded too enticing. You were not going to think about him anymore today. It was decided.

And surprisingly you were mostly able to keep your promise to yourself, the day passing in all its wintery glory, your favorite tradition with your roommate leaving you just as content as it always did. With a gentle sigh you both finally stood up, moving to the kitchen to wash the dishes you'd made all day, finally putting away the snacks you'd covered the coffee table with. As you both walked past the window in the hall you stopped short, eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you.

"Holy shit," Yunji said, grabbing onto your arm. You both were used to the snow here, having grown up in the next town over. But this snow, that now seemed to be three feet deep, was something you hadn't seen since the one glorious winter more than a decade ago. You were eight that year, and the day after Christmas it snowed furiously, continuing all the way until New Year's Day when the ground was so covered that everywhere you looked outside all you saw was white.

You hadn't realized it was snowing all day, that the sky had turned dark in the early afternoon with all of the cloud cover. You were both too engrossed in your fun to notice.

"Well, I guess we're not going back to work for another few days," she laughed, sighing at how lovely it looked.

"Thank god," you replied, sighing in relief.

"Has Yunho been giving you trouble again?" she asked, and you turned to her with a downturned smile.

"When is he not," you sighed, laughing.

"Hey, how did your meeting go, yesterday?" she asked.

"Fucking terrible," you reply, a frustrated hand running through your hair.

"What happened?"

"Boss said that if the two of us can't resolve our differences, he's letting us both go," you answer, sighing harshly.

"Oh my god, that's crazy! How could he do that to you??" she replied, eyes wide.

"Girl, I know. I don't even know how it got to this point."

She moved to hug you, knowing just how much this situation had weighed on you, and just how much your job meant. She'd seen it in your eyes, even if you hadn't always told her exactly what was going on. She knew how sensitive you were, and she couldn't believe your boss would say such a thing. Especially given the years of dedication you'd given to that office, that you so genuinely cared about.

"What are you gonna do?" she asks, pulling back. 

"Well I guess, try to resolve it. I don't know how, though, every time we talk he just pisses me off and we fight. He's not reasonable about anything. He's always joking, nothing is ever totally serious. I saw him stutter for the first time yesterday, when Mr. Kangsoo gave us that ultimatum, but earlier in the meeting he was way too casual about everything. He was calling me hysterical and unstable, and, just, how the fuck does my boss think I'm going to solve this? That man is fucking impossible," you say, shaking your head.

"He sounds like a sociopath," she replies. "If I ever see him I will wring his neck, I swear to god."

"Well, you might. He lives in this neighborhood." Yunji's eyes go wide at your comment, her mouth hanging open. "Yeah, I know. He lives on our street, too, you know the fancy looking house that's second in from the road? Like if you're walking from the station this direction, the second house on the right? Yeah, that's his. I found out yesterday when I was walking home."

"How the fuck does a single guy in his twenties afford that?" she asks, baffled.

"He clearly has family money, he must. I'm sure he's made decent money for the past few years, but not enough to afford that. And all of his stuff, his suits and his briefcase and everything, looks expensive. And it's not like, shit that just looks expensive or name brand stuff. It's subtler than that, it just seems like everything he owns is so high quality."

"Fucking rich boys. I guess it isn't surprising, given how he's behaved. Like he's always gotten his way and never been told no."

"It really seems like it. Everyone always loves him, it's so annoying," you roll your eyes, thinking of every other staff member's reaction to meeting their shiny new coworker, and his easy demeanor, always saying what people want to hear. Except to you, it seemed.

"Well you can't really meet up and talk right now," Yunji says.

"No, but he said we should talk on the phone. I missed two calls from him, and he left me a message. But I can't bear to speak with him on the phone. I don't ever talk to my coworkers outside of work, no matter how close we are," you reply, shaking your head. "It just feels weird. I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I'm ignoring him for the rest of today."

"Understandable," she responds, squeezing your arm for a moment. "I should try to get some work done on my thesis, I guess, but you rest this evening. You deserve it."

As you both retire to your rooms, you sigh into your pillow. Despite the lazy day, despite the sixteen hours of sleep last night, you still feel tired. It must be mental, it's the only explanation at this point. And you know that means you should probably avoid your phone. But you reflexively check it; the anticipation brewing in your head isn't letting up.

You find two more missed calls from Yunho, and another text.

Yunho: How are we going to solve this if you keep ignoring me?

You suppose it makes you feel a little bad, a little guilty. Still, you can't be bothered to respond. You don't know why; you can't explain it. That feeling like you're not totally in control of your actions, like someone else is calling the shots, is back, and it really doesn't feel like something you can fight, or should fight. There's an eeriness about it, but it's so far in the back of your mind that you don't give it a second thought. After turning over your phone you climb into your covers, the light barely there outside as the evening approaches, the sky still covered in dark clouds and the snow still falling.

And just like that, two days pass. The snow has stayed heavy, making it unsafe to leave, the whole city quiet as few feel brave enough to venture outside. A desperate run to the grocery store calls a few, but thankfully you and Yunji have plenty of food in the pantry to last you a few days. She's taken the opportunity to really focus on her work, and you thought maybe you should, too. You never worked on grants at home, but you could bet Yunho was also taking advantage of the quiet time. You didn't really have anything better to do, yet you couldn't bring yourself to work at all, not when your head and gut were rolling with anxiety and fear and a crushing hatred of yourself. That first day avoiding Yunho had felt, well, not good, but justified. But the past two days, more missed calls and texts unanswered, you felt straight up guilty, and stupid. Not really for ignoring Yunho, as much as letting down your boss, which you knew you would. This couldn't be resolved; no matter what the two of you did you'd never get along, and it was clear that there was something in Yunho that made him unable to leave you alone. You hadn't particularly liked the last guy in his position, either, but the two of you had basically ignored each other, easily. But since his entrance to your office, Yunho seemed unable to not bother you, not leave notes, not piss you off every chance he got. And now you couldn't help but ignore him, even though you knew that doing so was fucking you both over, making it certain that you'd never return to that beloved office and your dream job.

You felt stuck. The literal fact of not being able to leave your apartment was eating you alive, making you feel scared and paranoid and vulnerable in ways you knew were illogical. Every little sound started to make you jump; you were losing it, slowly but surely coming apart at the seams. You swore you started hearing your mom's cat meowing for you, and once in the kitchen it sounded so real you spent minutes furiously searching the hall and your bedroom for her. You collapsed on the floor, waves of anxiety rolling over you as you held yourself in the fetal position, not even crying, just hyperventilating.

Yunho: You're being really immature and unfair by not responding to me. Not even giving this a chance of maybe working itself out

You hadn't responded to him in days, but something in you finally broke. It was in the way his words reflected how you felt about yourself, and the severe guilt that it brought you alighted in flames and suddenly felt like nothing but red, hot anger.

Y/n: Fuck you Yunho: Oh, so you are alive

Breathing heavy you stared at the screen, a sudden realization washed over you. You knew it was over; you'd maintained at least some level of professionalism up to this point, albeit not much, with him. Even when you fought in the office you didn't say anything personal or unnecessarily nasty. You only cursed at him under your breath, never loud enough that anyone could hear. But now you had said something nasty, in writing no less. Even if you both somehow made it back to work on Monday, he'd no doubt show your boss what you had said. And even with your long standing relationship with Mr. Kangsoo, you doubted he'd be willing to keep you on after seeing that.

So that was it. It was over. Logically you knew that you could find a new job, that this wasn't the end of your life. The new year was right around the corner, which was always a good time to find new placements. But you had studied communications and psychology specifically for this job, had dedicated years to learning everything you could about funding and mental health care and the ways your boss ran the office. Though it'd never been said directly, you had a feeling that one day you'd become his second-in-command, and maybe even take over running the place once he was ready to take a step back and retire. You loved this part of the city, loved living with your best friend here, and the commute was easy. You'd planned everything so well, yet it still was about to crumble in your hands. And with every passing minute, it felt like you were waiting for your life to implode, which made not being able to leave all the worse.

The next morning you woke to a call from your mom.

"Good morning," she answered, after your muffled and confused, hello? "Happy New Year sweetie."

"Hi mom, Happy New Year," you responded, rolling over to tuck yourself into the covers again. It had gotten bone-chillingly cold with the perpetual precipitation, and pulling the covers off in the morning felt torturous.

"Since you can't come down to see me today I thought I'd call. Are you two doing okay? Do you have enough food?"

"Yeah, we're doing fine," you say through a yawn. "We've got plenty of food, as long as this lets up in a few days."

"God, it better. I'm glad I got to see you on Christmas Eve."

"Me too."

"Are you doing okay? You sound off," she asks you, making your heart sink. She has no idea what's been going on; you've done an expert job of keeping it a secret from her, as you often do with your struggles, because you know she can't really handle it. You know she has too much to deal with on her own, and you never really feel like she gives you good advice, anyway. But with how you've been feeling mentally, hearing someone ask that has you panicking internally.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I just woke up is all," you lie, yawning again to punctuate your point. "I'm not really enjoying being stuck inside, I guess."

"That's not like you," your mom laughs, and you know she's shaking her head side to side the way she always does. "You used to always love when you were stuck inside, or stranded somewhere. Do you remember when you got lost at that theme park in Ocean City? When we found you at the ticket booth you were happy as can be. We thought we'd find you crying. The teenage boy who was watching you said you were quiet as can be, just sat in that little nook in total silence. You were such a funny kid." There's a mystical air to her tone telling the story, because she loves to reminisce in that way, and unfortunately you really, really don't. Because that was the time of your life when your dad was still around, and despite the years of therapy you still can't move past it all. 

"Yeah, I remember," you placate her, sighing. You wish you could travel to see her today, just to calm her nerves and make her not worry, because her worrying is the absolute last thing you want. As you stare out the window you see the sky is a bit clearer, and there don't appear to be many flakes still falling. But the snow is still thick and there's surely ice everywhere. You're not even sure if the three separate subway lines you have to take to reach her house are still running.

"Well, sweetie, the weather report said the snow's finally supposed to let up today, so maybe you can get some fresh air soon."

"That sounds good," you mutter, rolling over in bed. "I should go make some breakfast, I'm feeling really hungry. Thanks for calling, love you," you finish the call.

"Okay, love you too sweetie. Talk to you soon," she replies, before you hang up the call.

New Year's Day. You'd forgotten yesterday what day it was, and had been sort of avoiding your phone because of Yunho's texts and calls. You hadn't stayed up till midnight, hadn't welcomed the New Year in any way. You were surprised Yunji hadn't said anything, but then again neither of you really were the types to party or celebrate holidays much. You both had bad memories of them from growing up, or good memories that had turned bad once you'd matured and looked back without your naiveté. And your face and posture were probably screaming 'leave me alone,' Yunji always able to tell if you were upset. You were thankful for that, thankful that she knew how to leave you alone when you needed the space. Really, what did it matter what day it was? New Year's was like any other day of the year, it just had the honor of being first in the lineup. So why was your head spinning so much? Why couldn't you stop thinking about what your resolutions should be?

The morning was strange, even with a delicious bagel and a warm cup of Jasmine tea. It felt strange seeing the sky after it had been covered for days; it even felt strange looking out your living room window to the front yard, the snow on the street gray and muddy and pounded down by the tracks of the few brave souls who'd trekked out or driven in this weather. You saw one neighbor diligently shoveling snow off her driveway, bundled up head to toe in a giant puffy jacket and boots that looked too big for her. Her head snaps up, and you walk towards the window to see what she's seeing; a snow plow was making its way down your street, the drivers finally able to start their work today now that the worst of the storm was behind you. Even the sidewalks looked not so bad, as the clear day had allowed the sun to begin melting the thick snow, the air hot enough that it might not be too icy out there. Something in you called at you to go outside, but the second you thought about it a wave of dread hit you, and you knew you'd be too scared. It would be another day stuck in here, another day avoiding Yunho's texts and feeling so guilty, and you weren't sure if you could take it.

It had gotten to that point now. It had been so long since you felt like this, like you'd rather die than live another moment. Now, just like the first time, you felt so ridiculous and shameful for feeling that way, looking around to see the physical evidence of your privileged life. Your safe and cozy apartment, the food filling the fridge, the brand new washing machine you'd both bought yourselves as a Christmas gift. How could this be so awful? You had all sorts of entertainment, anything you could need to keep you busy while you waited for these snow days to end. You could be updating your resume, starting the search for a new job. You could be calling Yunho back, and trying to find a way through your conflict. You could be doing yoga, meditating, making soup from scratch, reading, writing, learning a new language...

It all sounded horrible. Your mind was collapsing on you, but this time you're not a kid, this time you don't have a great excuse. You'd let some petty drama taint your every waking moment, and you didn't have anyone to blame but yourself. You were too scared to do the right thing, you could see that now, that back when this conflict had started you'd assumed your boss and everyone else would side with you, just because they already knew you. You'd let Yunho get under your skin, to the point that every word he uttered made you angry, letting him in so deep that there was no way out. Not now. You knew this wouldn't be resolved, because you couldn't do it; you could never admit these things to him that you'd just admitted to yourself. You could never apologize, never acknowledge that you played a part. You'd sat yourself staunchly in a position, the innocent one who'd been wronged time and time again by the aggressor, and stepping down from that pedestal would hurt you more than you thought you could bear.

It was the shame of fucking up. Of not being perfect. A conversation from therapy, from almost ten years ago, ricocheted to the front of your mind. 'You're quite a perfectionist, y/n. Do you realize that? It makes you avoid doing certain things, even if you know they're the right thing to do.' You can still see your old therapist's face, her glasses near the tip of her nose as she eyed you. How could you still be right where your fourteen year old self was? You looked like her too, your skin burning with embarrassment at how you hadn't realized that yourself. It felt humiliating to have to be told, because that in and of itself proved you were imperfect. That you weren't totally and completely self aware. The biggest shame you carried was knowing that despite how hard you tried, you never were very good at knowing yourself. 

You laid face down on your bedroom floor. You didn't have the energy or motivation for anything else. You knew clinically speaking, this looked like the start of a depressive episode. But you hadn't had one in years now and were out of practice. What were you supposed to do now? All that felt okay was sinking more into your head, letting the darkness envelop your mind and take you on a ride through your worst memories, your heart racing despite your complete lack of physical exertion.

By early afternoon you'd had enough of that horrifying roller coaster. When you sat up your neck ached, your body screaming at you to never collapse in that position again. You felt jittery, restless, but nothing at home sounded appealing still, not in the slightest. Your eyes catch on your winter boots in the corner of your room, too big to fit on the shoe rack by the front door. And suddenly your mind is made up in less than a second. It was time to go for a walk, to get out of the house. Maybe the cold air would clear your mind.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab some snacks at Smith's, do you need anything?" you call through Yunji's bedroom door.

"You're going out in this weather?" she asks, opening it.

"The snow let up a lot today, and I'm running low. And I'm feeling too cooped up. It's only five blocks, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Ok, well, I don't think I need anything. I stocked up on Pocky last time we were there. Are we almost out of toilet paper or paper towels?" she asks.

"No, I just checked," you respond.

"Okay. Be careful," she says, smiling.

"I will, I promise," you say before walking toward the front closet, grabbing your big winter coat and zipping it up.

The outside air is a shock as it greets your face, making your cheeks turn pink almost instantly. The world is still bright, the sun shining the warmest it will all day, but you can see darker clouds off in the distance. You hope they aren't moving too fast; there is only a slight breeze in the air, and mostly it's just so quiet, even with a second snow plow heading down your street. It does feel relieving, a least a little, to finally be outside, and a part of you feels proud for actually going out, given how scared you were this morning. You feel like you're maybe proving to yourself that you aren't such a wuss, that you aren't so prone to avoiding things that one day it'll ruin your life. You walk briskly, your nerves buzzing as your heart rate rises to keep you warm.

It feels nice to be buying your favorite snacks, and you're able to get lost in the normalcy of it for a few minutes. The store is almost empty, so you try making light conversation with the one cashier working, his long hair covered in a beanie. Strolling back outside you're met with the chilly air again, a gust of wind nearly knocking you off your feet as you make your way through the small, empty parking lot. You could have sworn you were only in there for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but the sky looks almost completely different now, those dark clouds having descended on your area. You start your way back up the hill, bracing yourself against the growing winds, when the sky lets out a low rumble that shakes you to your bones. Suddenly it's raining, the air warm enough to turn the snow into sleet, and it's soaking your face and your hat and your gloves faster than you can believe. The paper bag holding your snacks is disintegrating in your hand, and you shove it under your coat to try to protect it, the cold bag on your stomach making you shiver.

"Fuck, this was a bad idea," you mutter to yourself, shakily making your way finally into your neighborhood, crossing the street that separates the houses from the row of commercial buildings. Your whole body is shaking, your head turned to the ground as you try to avoid getting sleet in your eyes and try to avoid falling. You're moving much slower than you were on your way to the store, carefully planting your feet one in front of the other as you hold your snacks against your stomach. Your brain feels fuzzy, the wind whipping past your ears, and all you can manage to think is, 'just make it home, just make it home.' It's only about three more blocks, you should be able to make it just fine, if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, if you just keep going, keep goin-

Suddenly someone has grabbed you, your body thrown up like a rag doll, your upper half thrown over their shoulder. You let out a guttural scream, the sound hoarse and weak and getting lost in the storm. You're furiously flailing your legs, wiping the water from your eyes to try to get a look at anything, your lungs heaving as you scream again, this time, "Let me go!!"

The grip on your legs only tightens after your outburst, and then you're hearing a door whooshing open, warmer air greeting you as you enter some house, your eyes able to make out hardwood floors and the large boots of whoever's holding you hostage. You're breathing ragged, trying to get ahold of yourself and figure out where the hell you are, and when you catch a glimpse into the front closet of this house you see those navy blue shoes, with that very unique toe box...

Part 2

Thank you sm for reading! <3

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This man is bout fine as shit. Platinum blonde looks so scrumptious on him my lord. Spectacular I'll take 14 of them right now. 🙂‍↕️🤤😫

Jaehyun — 【Unconditional】 MV Teaser Images

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Mmm this man knows what he be doing.

🥵

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♡ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊✞𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ♡

Welcome to this years Kinktober festivities!! I've been working hard on all of these, so I hope you can all enjoy each and every one of them. (I'll also be pinning this post for the duration of October, so if you miss a day, you can check my blog for updates ♡)

There are also some specials in amongst the days for the lovely event my dearest friend @whatudowhennooneseesyou is hosting. So please go check her out and the event ♡♡. I hope you all are ready to sin.

♡ Every day, a new day will be revealed. So sit back, relax, and don't forget to enjoy the ride ♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Buy me a Kofi ♡

Day 1: Tit fucking [Winner Takes All]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : If you win, you get a prize...But if yeosang wins he gets to fuck your tits.

Day 2: Masturbation [My Kind Of Prize]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You couldn’t wait any longer for your boyfriend to finish the match, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Day 3: Dry humping/Clothed sex [What Was Rule One Again]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There were rules Mingi needed to follow, but had the tendency to break them.

Day 4: Biting/Bondage [No Bark But All Bite]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It was just an innocent game of truth of dare. Nothing bad was going to happen... Right?

Day 5: Gentle sex [Special Treatment]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your loving husband just needed some extra care, and being an amazing wife, you were more than willing to provide.

Day 6: Cock warming [??]

Day 7: Rough sex [??]

Day 8: Voyeurism [??]

Day 9: Bike sex - [??]

Day 10: Thigh riding - [??]

Day 11: Double penetration - [??]

DAY 11 SPECIAL: ALIEN AU - [??]

Day 12:  Pussy slapping/squirting - [??]

Day 13: Getting caught - [??]

Day 14: Cum play - [??]

Day 15: Oral/Fingering - [??]

Day 16: Fae/Orc - [??]

DAY 16 SPECIAL: COLLARING - [??]

Day 17: Drunk sex - [??]

Day 18:  Monster Under The Bed - [??]

DAY 18 SPECIAL: BITING -[??]

Day 19: Bath sex - [??]

Day 20: Priest/Demon - [??]

Day 21: Sex pollen - [??]

Day 22: A/B/O - [??]

Day 23: Masked man - [??]

Day 24: Haunted House/Maze - [??]

Day 25: Angel/Bodyworship - [??]

Day 26: Vampire/bloodplay - [??]

Day 27: Tentacles - [??]

Day 28: Werewolf - [??]

Day 29: Giants - [??]

Day 30: Alien/Egg laying/breeding - [??]

Day 31: [??]

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

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Need to remember this 👀

✮ KINKTOBER '24 ✮

✮ BANG CHAN ✮

Vampire!Chan x reader

Summary⤑ Your boyfriend is acting unusually distant from you but you refuse to let it slide anymore; if only you knew what you were getting yourself into.

Includes⤑ Marking/Biting kink

Release⤑ October 3rd

✮ LEE KNOW ✮

Assasin!Leeknow x reader

Summary⤑ Asking him is not enough to spare your life, maybe begging will do the trick.

Includes⤑ Boot worship

Release⤑ October 5th

✮CHANGBIN✮

StreerRacer!Changbin x brat!reader

Summary ⤑ Why should Changbin's stupid car be the only one receiving his attention? While on one of your nightly rides with him, you decide to take initiative by getting his attention...with your mouth.

Includes⤑ Oral fixation

Release⤑ October 12

✮HYUNJIN✮

Nerd! Hyunjin x BFF!reader

Summary⤑ Studying in the library late at night with your best friend leads to unusual methods of memorization. Inspired by @hwajin

Includes⤑ Controlled Orgasm

Release⤑ October 13

✮JISUNG✮

Incubus!Jisung x neighbor! reader

Summary ⤑ You've been having the most vivid nightmares that included your new neighbor from across the hall. Who knew that your new perfume would give Jisung the push he needed to make his presence known.

Includes⤑ Scent kink

Release⤑ October 19

✮FELIX✮

Angel! Felix x reincarnated!reader

Summary⤑ Felix has lived hundreds of different lifetimes, the only consistency being your appearance in every one of those lifetimes. This time when he finds you again, he will do anything in his power to keep you by his side.

Includes⤑

Release⤑ October 20

✮SEUNGMIN✮

Ghostface! Seungmin x reader

Summary ⤑ You shouldn't have wondered too far from your friend group at the fun house, now you're being cornered by the infamous Ghostface taunting you with knife. How will you fight your way out of this?

Includes⤑ Fear/ knife play and mirror sex

Release⤑ October 26

✮JEONGIN✮

Yandere! Jeongin x waitress! reader

Summary⤑ It started with love letters. You thought it was cute at first, until you noticed that there was never an address written on the envelope. The strangest thing though, you seem to recognize that handwriting from one of your regulars at the restaurant you work at.

Includes⤑ Breeding kink

Release⤑ October 27

A/N: I will try my absolute hardest to actually get these posted on time trusttttt.

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Absolutely beautiful, please give this story a read. I promise it's worth your time for the fanfic girlie's.

the willow tree — prince!yeonjun x servant!oc (mira)

cw. brief mention of the death of a grandparent, chubby!reader (rarely self conscious), exes to ???, unsupportive parents, dual POV, classism, mira is described as chubby and has long wavy hair, mira often wears dresses/thongs/etc, smut, sir kink, sneakin around, pet names (darling, babe, baby, love, my girl), lots of cunnilingus/bjs/handjobs, more specific content warnings before each chapter, NSFW/MDNI!!! notes. this has taken me forever!! i know i've been talking about this for so long and i really hope you love it. the poll said to post everything at once, but i put chapter headers so you wouldn't lose your place since its so goddamn long. anyway, enjoy!! wc. 26K im so sry

cw. yeonjun is a bit of a jerk in a flashback, classism, yj is an environmental activist and if u are a climate change denier, feel free to block <3, mira (oc) is described as chubby, yeonjun sneaks into mira's room (but not in a pervy way).

YEONJUN'S POV

Open your heart to the adventure ahead. I glare back at the cheesy quote slapped across the page-a-day calendar resting on my desk Mother gifted me last Christmas. The phrases usually amount to nothing more than fortune cookie wisdom or elementary classroom poster encouragements, and today's offering is no exception.

It’s plastered in meetings and to-dos I have today. One meeting is with a new landscape architect for the garden, another with Gemma about the upcoming quarterly dinner, and another with our ambassador about an upcoming international environmental meeting I’m attending later this year. 

Philanthropy has always been a forte of mine. No matter the cause, I can persuade the richest of the rich to contribute to the cause, I host grand fundraising events, and love speaking for what I care about. My pursuits have evolved over time, ranging from childhood health to advocating for mental wellness and combating food scarcity. 

It’s been difficult to choose what I cared about most, but I simply can’t commit all of my focus to every cause, no matter how hard I try. Within the last few years, my focus has been the environment—an urgent matter demanding action, even if I’m not a major contributor to the problem. Nonetheless, I certainly have influence over large corporations that do, not to mention my political influence. I've also cultivated a deep appreciation for the arts, advocating for universal access. Last year, I facilitated the donation of $125,000 worth of instruments to local public schools.

Outside of work, I like learning new instruments and artforms—right now, pottery and piano—and reading. And I love to travel. I always fly commercial—never private. 

“Honey, be in the common room in fifteen minutes,” Mother—the Queen—says at my door. She glows as her deep ruby chiffon dress flows with her movements, exuding royal, elegance, and authority. She finishes putting in her gold earring before adding, “We have a new hire.” 

Ah, the customary introduction of new staff. I finish watering the peace lily on my window bench before heading down the hallway.

Our castle is opulent yet sophisticated and contemporary. I genuinely love the peacock-green walls, the gold trim, the myriad of photos on the walls—memories of the Queen presenting awards, snapshots from my trips, simple portraits. Despite the grandeur of it all, it’s home.

The common room is large and well-lit thanks to the floor to ceiling windows. Lots of comfortable seating scatters the floor for when guests are over. A large Morisot painting hangs on the wall opposite the windows—brushstrokes full of energy and splashes of rich greens and blues. But it’s the simplicity I love about it. It’s why I bought it. 

“Good morning, Your Majesties,” Gemma states as she enters the room, fifteen staff people following behind her. Everyone does their obligatory bows and curtsies, something I never particularly liked. But I understand the purpose behind it. 

The staff stand in a straight line facing us, Gemma being the stiffest of all—she commands the room, adores perfection, and keeps everything in order. She isn’t my personal favorite staff person, but I don’t know what we’d do without her. 

They’re all wearing their boring uniforms—half are in drab grey frocks with white aprons and the other half are in drab grey suits. I’d rather they wear whatever they want.

Formal introductions like these aren’t to my taste. I like getting to know the staff on our own terms. Organically. But this is important to Gemma. It’s a sort of initiation, a welcome into the family. So I let her do what she needs to do, but I’m busy reminding myself of my to-do list.

Email Princess Everly about the upcoming benefitReschedule interview with Philanthropy DailyOutline Climate Week keynote speech

“As you know,” Gemma startles me out of my thoughts. “We’ve welcomed a new person to our team. I want everyone to give her a warm welcome.” Walking to the end of the line, she introduces her, “This is Mira.” 

Mira smiles softly with a curtsy that I’m assuming she learned to do in the kitchen moments earlier. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am,” she says, tilting her head toward Mother. “And you too, Sir.”

“Nice to—oh.” My mouth hangs open. What am I supposed to say again? Oh right, “Um���it’s nice to meet you too,” I finally murmur. That was embarrassing. 

Everything flashes across the movie screen in my mind—memories with her. The girl I fell in love with when I was a stupid teenager. The girl who stole my first kiss. The girl that was so sweet to me and treated me like any other kid because that’s all I was—a kid.

But she wasn’t just a girl to me. She was the first—only—person I was in love with. The girl I snuck out of the castle at night to go stargazing with. The girl I told all my secrets to. The girl I never thought I’d see again. How could I have forgotten her? 

Do you remember me?

Perhaps that’s all I was to her, though—a boy. Another insignificant teenage romance. Then again…how could she forget? We’d talk for hours about spending our lives together. She’d even picked out her favorite room in the castle that we’d move into together when the time came. It’s now the music room, complete with a piano among other instruments. 

We’d sit under her favorite willow tree in the garden eating red bean buns she’d brought back from the next town over when she’d visit her cousins. 

Have you forgotten? To be fair, It has been six…seven years. Wow. 

The room soon clears, except for Mira and myself. She paces around and smooths her skirt.

“Oh!” Mira gasps. “I’m so sorry. I thought everyone had left,” she says with an awkward curtsy. Simply shaking my head, I stay put. “...Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?”

“Nope…uh, no,” I start, fiddling with the edge of one of the couches before finally speaking up again. “Where are you from?” I’m testing the waters. Trying to see if she remembers me without coming straight out and asking. Honestly, I do this with all our staff: ask where they’re from, get to know them a bit. I don’t like having robots I know nothing about doing everything for me. 

“I’m originally from the next town over.”

Hm. Am I wrong? Maybe she simply looks a lot like my Mira. And has the same name. And the same gorgeous brown eyes. Perhaps I shouldn’t refer to her as my Mira anymore. 

“I’ve lived here since I was a kid though,” she adds. Ah, okay. That seems like something I should’ve known. Nodding, I open my mouth to say something else, but Mother calls me from a distance.

“Yep.” I stand up straight as a pin, turning to exit the room. “Be right there.” 

-

Rummaging through my drawers, I finally find it. The necklace I’d bought Mira all those years ago—a delicate circle pendant with an “M” stamped in the middle hanging from a delicate gold chain. She wore it everyday for six months. I can’t remember how I ended up with it, though. 

So, she’s real. At least that’s true. What should I do with it? I pace up and down the hallways clutching it, brainstorming about what to do with it. Perhaps I should simply walk up to her and ask her about it. Should I wrap it for her and give it to her as a present? Should I give it to Gemma to return to her?

“Oh, Gemma, I’m sorry,” I say, apologizing for almost bumping into her. 

“Not a problem, sir.” She curtsies and begins to walk away, but—

“Gemma?” She turns, holding her hands behind her back, awaiting my instruction. “Can you tell me where the new hire stays? I want to make sure I’ve got everyone’s rooms in order in my head.”

“Mira?” I nod. “She lives in room number six, sir.”

“Thank you.” I smile, but she simply waits. Ah— “Dismissed.” 

As I nonchalantly make my way to the staff wing, I keep an eye out for anyone who might be watching. Not that anyone would question me, but I don’t like people in my business. I eventually find her room in the same hallway as everyone else’s—a basic wooden door painted white with a brass “6” nailed to it—I hesitate before knocking softly. No response. I try again, slightly louder. Still nothing. On the third attempt, I test the door handle and find it unlocked. I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m just gonna get in, put the necklace somewhere, then get out. I won’t bother any of her stuff. 

But her room is so sweet. Plain and organized since she just moved in. A single photograph of her and her parents with who I’m assuming is her grandmother rests on the dresser. The bed’s made neatly. There’s a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. 

Ah, the bedside table drawer. That should be a good spot, but I find things that are way too personal in there and decide against it, respecting her privacy despite the fact that I’m breaking and entering. 

Hm…where to put it? Sock drawer? The windowsill catches my eye—a perfect blend of visibility and subtlety. I approach it, careful not to disturb anything, and hang the necklace on the window latch. It’s hiding in plain sight but still easy to find and doesn’t show that I rummaged through her drawers, which is a plus.

Now, we wait. 

-

A week passes. Radio silence. I haven’t gone back to her room to see if it's still hanging on her window, but I haven’t seen it around her neck either. Perhaps she threw it away and I should give up. 

Trudging through my bedroom door, I loosen my tie and toss my phone and wallet onto my bed. I attempt to rub the tiredness out of my eyes, but I’m exhausted. Thankfully, my dinner is already waiting for me on my dresser under a cloche. 

Next to my plate is a glass of ice water dripping in condensation along with a napkin and a set of cutlery. And resting right next to my fork is Mira’s necklace. The sight of it sends a jolt through my system. I knew she came into my room somewhat regularly—all the staff do—but thinking about her in my room makes me tingle. 

I sink onto the edge of my bed with a sigh as the chain slips through my fingers. When I first gave it to her seven years ago, her eyes lit up and her smile made everything feel right. I knew we were supposed to be together. That all seems so distant now.

Why didn’t she simply get rid of it? 

Maybe she hasn’t given up entirely and neither should I. 

It goes back and forth between us for a few weeks. After I found it on my dresser, I slipped it into her apron pocket. Then I found it between the pages of my notebook. The day after I wrapped it around the sugar bowl’s lid handle, it appeared wrapped around the handlebar of my bike. 

We never spoke a word of it. 

Every time I found it, it made me smile, but I knew this couldn't continue forever. I need to see her, to talk to her, to find out what was really going on. Does she want to talk to me? Does she hate me? Does she even remember me?

The next morning, I slip a note under her door. 

Meet me under the willow tree at 8. - Y

Every minute of the day feels like an eternity as I wait for evening to arrive. Doubt gnaws at me, but the thought of seeing and speaking to Mira keeps me sane. 

The evening air is cool and crisp. The sun has dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep blue. Waiting under the willow tree, I think about the many times Mira and I have sat under here and talked for hours, watching the stars as the branches swayed in the wind. We’d talk about our days, places we wanted to visit together, how I wanted to tell everyone about us but she was too hesitant. 

Minutes start to feel like hours as I wait, the silence around me amplifying my racing thoughts. What if she never comes? What if she didn’t get the note? What if she’s avoiding me? Does she hate me?

Finally, soft footsteps approach and I turn to see Mira, her silhouette framed by the dim garden lights. She walks slowly, like she’s dragging it out as long as possible. As she comes up to me, her eyes search mine. My heart races, there’s a lump in my throat. 

"Mira," I start, my voice barely above a whisper. She curtsies. “You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s my job, Sir,” she says flatly. Rocking back on my heels, I press my lips together. 

"I thought I’d return this straight to you,” I say, holding up the necklace. “It seems like it keeps getting lost.” I chuckle nervously, trying to break the tension.

“Thanks,” she replies flatly as she accepts the necklace. Oh my god, she’s gorgeous. I thought I’d memorized every detail about her, but seeing her now under the lamppost, it’s like I’m rediscovering her all over again. She’s beautifully chubby and always has been. Her long, dark brunette hair has a tint of red that makes it look like cinnamon. The wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants paired with an old pair of flip flops tells me she either forgot about our meeting and got dressed in a hurry or wants to get this over with. Or perhaps both. 

“What can I help you with, Sir?” Awkward silence. 

“Mira,” I whisper, her name a fragile plea on my lips. She stares at the ground, avoiding my eyes. What was she expecting? For me to never bring us up? Of course I’d talk to her about it. “Mira Ashenrose, right?” She hums quietly. “I realized I never asked your last name since you started working here.” 

The silence between us is thick with tension. Memories flood my mind and I hope the same is happening to her. The last time we were here, we laid with each other for hours, so long that the sun started rising. She fit so perfectly in my arms. 

“I can’t forget you, Mira,” I say, stepping closer. “Why are you avoiding…us?” The space between us is charged as electricity swirls around us. “Remember us? All those nights we went stargazing? Our picnics? Those daisy chains you made me? You can’t tell me you don’t—”

“Of course I remember,” she interrupts, tears glistening in her eyes. My heart aches at the sight. “I remember everything, Yeonjun.” She wipes a tear from her cheek. “I remember falling asleep under this willow tree with you. I remember dancing with you. I remember kissing you before sneaking back into my house. I remember everything, okay?” Her voice trembles. “But that doesn’t mean I want to.” 

“What? Why wouldn’t you?”

She looks utterly heartbroken. “Don’t do this to me, Yeonjun. Stop being cruel.”

Her words punch me in the gut and everything comes rushing back. The reason we ended. I’d asked her to our annual ball—our first public appearance together. The Queen would find out. My royal friends would find out. The whole country would find out. She was a wreck for weeks leading up to it, but I reassured her every chance I got that it would be okay. 

She was—and still is—smart, incredibly beautiful, but most of all, I loved her. Why should anyone care if she wasn’t a royal as long as I was in love with her? That should’ve been enough. 

"Yeonjun, darling," my mother's voice sliced through the delicate hum of the ballroom. "I'd like you to meet Princess Penelope. She's your esteemed companion for the evening." Always so professional. 

“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering a strained greeting to Penelope before turning to face my mother.  "May I have a word with you in private?"

Graciously excusing herself, she left me to confront my mother amidst the grandeur of the ballroom. "Why would you do this? I told you I didn’t want to be set up.”

"I understand, Yeonjun," my mother replied with a tight-lipped smile. "But it's time you started considering your future—"

"My future?" I scoffed. "I'm eighteen."

"Exactly," she countered, her tone firm. "You need to think about a suitable partner. Someone who embodies the qualities of a Queen—dignity, wisdom, influence. And most importantly: royal,” she pointed a finger at me. “I won’t be around forever, darling.”

“Do they really need to be royal?”

My mother's smile widened, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

I swallowed what I really needed to say. There’s no way I’d win an argument anyway. With a resigned nod, I returned to Princess Penelope, the weight of my mother's expectations—and I suppose my entire country’s—heavy on my shoulders. So heavy I’d forgotten—

“Mira,” I said under my breath. There she was, staring at me in disbelief as I danced with Princess Penelope. Ignoring the questioning from Penelope, I abandoned her mid-step and made a beeline for Mira, my heart pounding with a mixture of dread and urgency. "Mira, wait!" I called out, desperation lacing my voice as I chased after her out of the ballroom and into the moonlit courtyard.

"Why, Yeonjun?" Mira's voice cracked as she finally turned to face me, tears staining her cheeks. "Why would you do this?"

"I had no choice," I confessed, my mother’s expectations running circles in my mind. “My mother made me.” 

"You could've told me," Mira interjected, her voice trembling.

"When?" I demanded, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I only found out thirty minutes ago—"

"You could've texted me.”

"I can't risk—"

"What, people finding out about us?" Mira's voice rose with each word, her anguish palpable in the cool night air. “Are you ever going to tell The Queen about us?” Squeezing the bridge of my nose, my eyes twist shut. “Well?” 

Looking at her—possibly for the last time—she looked absolutely beautiful. Her gown was perfect. Soft lavender satin that caught the light as it cascaded down the skirt, a glimmer of fuschia reflecting in the light. I wanted nothing but to hug her, to feel the satin on my fingertips. The sweetheart neckline was gorgeous on her, accentuating her frame perfectly. The M necklace rested around her neck. Her hair was absolutely perfect—she’d been trying out styles for weeks and the final choice was supposed to be a surprise.

“Answer me, Yeonjun.”

I couldn’t do that anymore. Mother meant what she said to me earlier that night: they must be royal. “Just go home,” I said, turning to leave her there alone. Breaking her heart was the best thing to do in the moment. If I could never truly be with her, breaking it off right then and there was the easiest thing for both of us. 

“What? Why—”

“What do you expect, Mira? You’re not royalty. You’re nothing,” I said. “Now go home.”

Too stunned to speak, I stare at her in disbelief. How could I have been so evil to her? What was I thinking? Why did I forget that? Must’ve blocked it from my memory. And now that I’m older, I’d never let some stupid outdated rule like that stand in our way. 

“I’m so—”

“Save it,” she says flatly. “I should’ve thrown away the necklace the first time I found it.” Straightening her posture, she wipes the final tear rolling down her cheek, shaking her head to rid of the emotions. “Let’s pretend this whole thing never happened, yeah?” 

Fine. If someone did that to me, if someone told me I was nothing after telling them they were in love with me for six months, I’d probably feel the same way, if I’m honest. 

As I accept my fate, I turn to walk away, but halt in my footsteps. “No,” I start. “I don’t want to forget this—that we ever happened.” She stays standing there, arms crossed, trying to control her breathing. But I hover over her, waiting for a response. “Please. I miss—”

“Don’t.” She snaps, shaking her head. “Don’t even think about starting that bullshit with me…Sir.”

“I told you, Mother set me up with her.”

“I don’t care about that. You told me I was nothing.” Speechless again, I can’t move. “You never even tried to contact me again and you expect me to give you a second chance?”

“That was seven years ago.”

“So?”

“I’m…we’re both so different. I used to be a stupid teenager. I would never— Please—”

“Please, what? What do you want from me?”

“I don’t—” Honestly, I thought maybe we could pick up where we left off, but I don’t know if that’s possible at this point. I hadn’t felt lonely until she showed up, drowning in my endless to do lists, barely ever hanging out with anyone that wasn’t on my staff or another royal. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe think about that first.”

cw. eating food. 

MIRA'S POV

On my days off, I hide away in a gazebo in a quiet part of the garden and sketch. It’s a nice place to escape to, away from everyone while staying close to home. Home. It’s still hard to believe this castle is my home, even if I am just a servant. 

The gazebo sits against a stone wall on one side—one of those that looks so old you wonder how it's still standing, withered with moss growing between the stones, vines going up and around it. The bench theoretically offers lots of seating, but most of it is covered in pots, plants, and gardening supplies. It’s more storage than an intended place to rest. 

My spot was bare when I found it and it gives me a full view of the grounds. To the right, our village is on full display—colorful, quaint, and inviting. To the left, a thick forest stands tall, leaves rustling with the wind.

Someone’s foot crunches the gravel as they walk toward me and my little corner, but I don’t react. As long as I stay relatively still and quiet, no one bothers me. I continue my sketch of those cute squirrels running around together under the willow tree I’ve always loved. Although it’s left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth recently. 

But the presence of a person looms behind me. Can’t I have one quiet day to myself? Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. They’ll leave eventually. Maybe. Hopefully. 

“...Mira?” A familiar voice says, slow and undeniably warm. 

“Oh.” I stand up straight, giving my obligatory curtsy Gemma has ingrained in me since day one. 

“I told you not to do that,” Yeonjun—Prince Yeonjun—says. He’s dressed casually today, cute even. But don’t you dare tell anyone I said that. A simple maroon cashmere sweater that fits perfectly with his dark wash jeans that barely gather at his ankles, exposing his black vans. A short necklace of black beads sits around his neck. One of those outfits you’d see him wearing in a magazine with a caption like, ‘Royals – they’re just like us!’ 

“And I told you, it’s my job,” I say, returning to my seat, continuing my drawing. 

“Not right now though,” he says, clasping his hands behind his back. “It’s your day off, right?”

“You have my schedule memorized?” 

“No,” he chuckles, running his fingers through his shiny, black hair that I can practically feel on my fingertips. “Why else would you be hiding in my corner?”

“I figured you followed me—your corner?” 

“I wasn’t following you,” he says, walking closer before rocking back on his heels as he stops. “I read here sometimes.” He holds up a book. “You thought this spot just happened to be clear on its own?” I hum, scooting over and patting the bench next me. “You’re really okay with me here? I don’t want to bother you,” he says, as genuine as one can sound. But I’m still surprised. Sure, he’s not the demanding type, but I don’t know if I’d act the same if I were royalty. 

“To be fair, I was here first,” I say smugly. Although, he is still my boss. It doesn’t matter that we know each other from that past. I add a quick, “...Sir.” for good measure. “Go ahead and sit.”

“Don’t you hate me?” He asks and I chuckle, but when I look up, I see he’s serious. 

“No, I don’t hate you,” I say. “I’ve moved on, Yeonjun.”

Shrugging, he sits near me, opening his book. I tried to get a peek at the title, but I never got the chance without being too obvious. As he sits next to me, I must admit his presence adds a peaceful comfort to what would typically be a relatively silent, if not boring, morning. There’s even a sort of completeness. Birds seem to be chirping more harmoniously. The clouds have disappeared. Oh, what am I saying? That’s ridiculous. That’s a coincidence, Mira. 

“You still draw?” He perks up, pulling me from my thoughts. 

“Of course,” I answer immediately. 

“What are you working on?” Straightening on the bench, I riffle through some papers quickly, trying to hide any potentially embarrassing sketches I don’t want him to see. 

“Just sketches.”

He nods, curiosity etched on his face. “Can I see?” 

“Uh,” I clear my throat. “Sure,” I say, sitting one of my feet on the ground, turning toward him. Our knees brush each other for a moment, but I quickly move it out of his way. Smiling, he examines my drawing of my favorite willow tree I finished yesterday before bed. My cheeks flush as I remember why it was on my mind while drawing, but I hope he doesn’t draw that conclusion. 

“Ah, you’ve gotten so much better.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I chuckle. 

“I just mean,” he looks at me, eyebrows raised in defense. “I can tell you’ve been working on it, I dunno. How else would I say that?”

“That’s fine,” I say. Awkwardness fills the air as I shift my weight around. 

“I’ve been doing pottery, you know.”

I do know. But I’m not supposed to be listening in on their conversations at dinner. I can’t help I’m nosy. I simply ask, “Really?” Humming, he pulls out his phone. 

“This one just came out of the kiln.” He hands me his phone—I wonder what world secrets are on Prince Yeonjun’s phone—to show me a beautifully hand thrown vase. The body is smooth and cylindrical with a slightly tapered neck that gracefully flares out at the top. White glaze covers the surface, contrasting with the thick organic strokes of black glaze. Small, oval handles are attached on both sides. “I just learned how to do handles.” 

“Oh my gosh, Yeonjun…” My breath is taken away. I had no idea he was such an incredible artist. It looks like it was plucked straight out of a museum. “It’s gorgeous.” He always was one to do things perfectly—an all-or-nothing kinda guy. 

“Thanks,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 

“Show off,” I say, lightly nudging his arm with my elbow.  

An hour or so passes and I’ve switched sitting positions several times, eventually landing on a classic leaned-back-against-the-wall position with my feet up on the bench so I can use my knees and thighs as a desk. He’s barely moved an inch though, sitting happily with his back pressed against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, reading. 

I barely notice my toes absent-mindedly tucking themselves under his thigh like I used to do when we were—

“Oh!” A servant that I haven’t learned the name of yet stumbles in on us, carrying a tray full of food. “I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay,” Yeonjun says, but I’m doing everything I can to hide my face. This can’t get back to the other servants. They’re all such gossips, which I guiltily love, but that doesn’t mean I want them gossiping about me. “Come on over, Natalie.”

“I swear I didn’t tell her about your spot, Sir,” Natalie says nervously.

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay,” he offers a gentle smile, reaching out for the tray, dismissing her after she curtsies, scurrying off quickly. “Don’t worry,” Yeonjun says to me. “She keeps all my secrets—she’s the only one that knows I come out here. She won’t say anything about,” he trails off, gesturing his hand between us.

“There’s nothing to tell.” 

“Alright,” he sighs. “You hungry?”

“No.” My stomach growls at the worst possible moment. 

“I kinda feel like you are.” I ignore him, focusing on my drawing. “I asked her to bring another meal. You can have it if you want.” 

Peeking over my sketchbook, the tray is fully decked out in sandwiches that look absolutely delicious; sides of mac and cheese and fruits, complete with two glasses of water and a little flower.

“I suppose I’m pretty hungry.” My stomach growls again at the sight of it. “Oh, ignore that; she’s been fussy all day.” I scooch closer to him hesitantly accepting the offer. 

“Mira,” Yeonjun starts. I hum, reaching for a pineapple slice. “Why are all the staff afraid of me?”

“Huh?” I look up at him.

“You saw how nervous Natalie was just thinking I might be mad at her.”

“I think you forget you’re a literal prince,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Are you scared of me?”

Hm. That’s an interesting question. No, of course I’m not scared of you. Why would I be? But perhaps the real answer is Yes, but in the way that everyone makes fun of when people say it out loud. Honestly, I am afraid. Afraid of falling for him again. Getting my heart broken again. We’ve barely talked since I started working here, but I know how convincing he can be. If I’m not careful, he’ll have me wrapped around his finger by next week. 

And let’s not forget he told me I was nothing. That kind of thing doesn’t simply go away. 

I wonder if he’s ever said something like that to one of the servants. Does he think all non-royalty are nothing? No, he wouldn’t be like that anymore. But how would I really know?

Shrugging, I finally say, “No.”

“That’s not very convincing.”

I roll my eyes, “I don’t know, Jjun—” I catch myself as that dumb nickname comes out of my stupid fucking mouth. What’s wrong with me? He looks at me with wide eyes. “Uh, Yeonjun…Sir.” Let’s just pretend like nothing happened. “You said some hurtful stuff to me. Have you said anything like that to one of them?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You could ask a servant if they’re scared of you.”

“I just did,” he points out. Right. I’m…a servant. I keep forgetting that bit when we’re alone. When we’re alone, it's like we’re friends. It’s casual and comfortable. See? What did I tell you? A few hours of silence followed by a few minutes of talking and I’m right back to where I was seven years ago. Stop being so pathetic. 

“Ah.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, I know,” I chuckle. “You’re right. But maybe ask a servant that seems like they’re scared of you. They’re probably scared of Gemma more than anything.”

As we wrap up our lunch, his phone buzzes—a calendar reminder probably. 

"I have to get going," he announces, moving efficiently to gather the remnants of our meal onto the tray. But as he stands to leave, an inexplicable urge pulls at me, begging him to stay. Please don’t do this, Mira. Don’t be stupid. 

With a gentle smile, he suggests, "I'll talk to you later?" It's then that I realize I’ve been staring at him in silence for the past who knows how long. "Oh, you have a leaf in your hair." I attempt to remove it myself, but without a mirror, it’s proving to be difficult. "Here," he offers, leaning down. My mind screams at me to resist, but his closeness sends a rush of warmth through my body. With gentle precision, he plucks the leaf away, discarding it casually.

Yet, instead of stepping away, he stays close. I pretend not to notice the magnetic pull between us. Stop it. Admit it. You want him to stay. Straightening my posture, we’re almost leaning into each other, like we’re about to—no. Our gazes dart between each other's lips, ghosts of his touch haunting my senses. Does he still taste the same?

The cool breeze snaps me back to reality. What were you thinking? "Thanks," I mumble, retreating to reestablish a distinct boundary.

"No worries," he replies. The fading sound of his footsteps on gravel leaves me facepalming.

How can I be this close to him without seeing him? Without falling for him again? There’s only one thing to do. 

Avoid him at all costs.

cw. sexual tension, suggestive.  

MIRA'S POV

“Didn’t you finish Mother’s painting in two weeks?” Prince Yeonjun asks, leaning against the doorframe to the sunroom. It’s become my makeshift painting studio. Once the Queen found out I sometimes do art, she thought it’d be a good idea to commission me for new portraits to replace the old ones in the Great Hall. I like painting and I need the money so I of course said yes. 

“Mm-hmm,” I nod, finishing up the final touches on the pattern of his royal cloak. “I’ve been busier recently,” I lie. In the painting, he sits with an arm resting atop a piano against a backdrop of rich velvet curtains like the ones in the living room. The intricate details of his uniform are perfect if I do say so myself. His face, though, is a grey blob with a basic sketch. I work off photographs for the most part, but for faces, I like them sitting right in front of me to get every detail.

But him sitting a foot away from me while I carefully analyze every detail of his face for hours does not sound like a good idea right now. Even if it does sound appealing. 

“You almost ready for me?” 

I should get it over with, but my hands are tired and I have a lot of tasks for my actual job to do before the end of the day.

“Tomorrow,” I say, walking my paintbrushes to the sink. “Does that work for you?” He’s quiet, so I look over my shoulder to make sure he heard me. Pushing himself off the doorframe, he shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“Y-yeah,” he says. “That should work.”

“Okay.” I wipe my paintbrushes with a towel. “Meet here after lunch?” Smiling gently, he nods. “Well, I’ve gotta get back to my real job. See you tomorrow,” I say with a curtsy. 

Tomorrow comes way too fast. I brush my teeth, floss, use mouthwash, and chew some gum to get rid of any trace of my lunch. Dragging my feet down the hallway, I can’t get there slow enough. 

“Ah, Mira,” he says with a smile that warms me from the inside out. I respond with a simple hello, but I’m already burning up as I gather my brushes and paints while he watches me in silence. I realize I’d forgotten to curtsy, but I decide to omit it this time considering he hates it so much. 

“The Queen sat on this stool when I painted her,” I say, moving the stool into place. “You might need to adjust the height.” While he does that, I mix a base for his skin. Starting by mixing the primary colors to get a deep brown, I add a good amount of white to lighten it up then a good amount of yellow and a touch of red for warmth. “Sit still,” I giggle, holding my palette knife next to his cheek. His shoulders rise and fall with his breathing while I add more brown to darken it a bit. Clasping my hands together, I say, “Alright, I’ll be painting for at least two hours, so do anything else you need to do.” 

“I’m good.” 

Shrugging, I adjust my easel so he’s in my sightline but not too close.

Two minutes into painting, he asks, “So how’s your day been?”

“Good. You?” 

“Good,” he responds. I truly don’t mind silence between us two, but I must admit this silence is deafening. “Do you work in silence or can you talk?”

I giggle and say, “I can talk. Or you can play music if you want.” 

“How about both?” I nod. “Alexa, play classical music to focus,” he pauses, waiting for it to respond and start playing. “Tell me what you’re working on.”

“Well,” I start, swishing my brush into some clean water. “I’d already had a basic sketch of your face, but I made some skin tones first. A base, a highlight, and a shadow,” I say, showing him my palette. “Then I’ll go in and fine tune everything.” 

Time passes by—I’ve honestly always liked simply existing near him. We used to do this all the time back when we were dating. Sit near each other and just be. Quietly. Like the other day in the garden when I was drawing and he was reading. It’s peaceful. I can focus. 

It smells like that day in here—soil and paint. Whoever keeps up with these plants is great at their job. They’re gorgeous even in the winter.

“Now I’m working on your eyes,” I say matter-of-factly. Part of me starts with his eyes to get it over with and avoid them as soon as I can, but the other part counts myself lucky that I have reason to stare at them for the next thirty minutes or so. I mix a deep, cool brown and dip my pinkie into it to hold it up next to his eye. “I’m, um,” I glance down. “I’m gonna touch your face.” My pinkie rests on the apple of his cheek so I can get as close as I can to his eye without touching it. “Open your eyes.” 

Damn. Those eyes are like mirrors reflecting my deepest emotions. The world around us fades. I almost drop my palette. Glimpses of our history, our laughter, tears, and dreams we’ve shared together swirl around in them. They take my breath away. 

Realizing we’re staring at each other, I snap out of it, jerking my hand away from him and dive into painting them instead of gazing into them. 

“First try?” I hum in question. “You got the color of my eyes right on the first try?” My ears warm up.

“Well, you know…” I say, my head hanging low. “They’re the same as the Queen’s.” Lie. The Queen’s are much warmer. Hues of deep mahogany and amber; they’re vibrant with hints of gold and copper that catch the light. They glow in the sun. His, on the other hand, are intensely dark. Deep and rich like shadowy moonlight. You could get lost in them like a maze at night. They’re like reading a book by candlelight. They’re gorgeous. 

“Why do I need to be here again?” He asks and I look jokingly offended. “I mean, you worked off photos up until now.”

“So I can get the details of your face I might otherwise miss,” I say, closely examining his face. “Like this freckle,” I say, poking the freckle on his right cheek with the end of my paintbrush that I would never miss in a million years. It’s one of my favorites. “Or this little birthmark.” He’s got the slightest purple splotch on his cheek that again, I’d never miss. 

“You’re painting those?”

“Of course,” I say. “They’re part of you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him grazing his fingertips over his cheek, smiling to himself. “Move closer.” Examining his features even closer, I’m a few inches from his face. I, again, realize I’m staring at his face and my heartbeat quickens. I snap back and say, “Um…sorry.”

“You’re okay.”

But this keeps happening. I keep getting close to him, our hearts beating together as our breath gets sharp. And fuck, I miss him. I can’t help but think about if I were doing this for fun, not as a staff person. I used to draw him all the time. 

And now, here he is, grown up, mature, tall, and utterly handsome as I’m forced to paint a larger-than-life portrait of the guy I used to love and thought I’d spend the rest of my life with. I was such a stupid eighteen-year-old. 

He doesn’t stop staring at me. Not when I add details to his nose. Not when I clean my brush. Not when I observe my painting from a distance. I catch his glare. 

“Can you stop staring at me like that?” I ask, a smile teasing my lips. 

“Like what?”

“Like…” I cock my head to the side. 

“Like you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?” Ah, fuck you. The warmth that rushes through my body is overwhelming and I swear my knees are ready to buckle. My hands tremble as I fight the urge to drop everything. “I don’t think I can stop that, Mira,” he adds softly. 

“You can’t say shit like that to me, Yeonjun,” I manage to say, my smile stubbornly betraying my attempt to stay cool. I keep my eyes on the brush, pretending I’m not seconds away from screaming. 

“Why not?” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my ear.

“Because…” I finally look over at him, incredibly close to me, eyes flitting all over my face, indiscreetly hovering on my lips. Admittedly, my eyes do the same: land on his lips and suddenly the only thing I’m thinking about is kissing him. “Because…” I repeat, trying to get me to do literally anything but kiss him in this moment, but we both know that’s the only thing either of us want. Each other. To be together. 

I try to remember what his lips feel like. Strong and passionate. At least they used to be. 

How have they changed now that he’s older and has most likely gone through a few serious partners and several hook-ups? Are they softer and more loving now that he’s not a dumb ego-ridden eighteen-year-old? Are they even stronger now that he’s found himself and has solidified his position as a Prince? I wonder. No. Don’t do this. Oh, but why not? 

In one ear, the wise and cautious version of me begs me to refrain from kissing him. Don’t do this, Mira. Remember how heartbroken you were. Mixing romance with your boss is a terrible idea. 

The more rebellious, lust-ridden version of me counters, Look how much hotter he’s gotten. Just make out with him. The Queen is your boss, not him. You could always make out with him, maybe even fuck him, and pretend like nothing happened. 

Wise Mira gasps, That’s mean! 

Right, Lustful Mira says. But he was mean to her. 

Listen to me, Wise Mira chirps up. Don’t kiss him at all. 

Lustful Mira chimes in again, But Mira…look how absolutely delicious his lips look. You want him. He clearly wants you. Don’t you wanna—

“Because I said so.”

He chuckles, “Fair enough.” 

cw. brief mentions of alcohol, cunnilingus, fingering, mira briefly feels self conscious about her body and pubic hair, mira lies to a stranger, begging, yj sneaks into a room she's in, sir kink. 

MIRA'S POV

"What are you wearing friday?" Hyomin casually asks, a knowing smirk on her lips as she effortlessly dusts the coffee table while I clean the windows—the newbie’s job. 

"Aren't we supposed to wear our uniforms?"

"Oh no, darling! The quarterly dinners are the sacred day we break free from the uniform chains—as long as it’s formal." Hyomin is one of few servants I genuinely like. Most of the others are constantly trying to play the game to move up the ladder—none of them really want to be friends. 

The ones that aren’t too busy playing the game are too on edge, following each rule to the letter. 

Yeonjun—Prince Yeonjun, I correct myself for the millionth time—unexpectedly knocks on the door. I, Hyomin, and Natalie perform our obligatory curtsies, even though I know he hates it. If we don’t though, Gemma fusses at us, which he also knows, so he plays along.

"Excuse me," he says, clearing his throat. "Could I trouble someone for a refill on my coffee?"

Natalie, always willing to volunteer, seizes the opportunity and responds quickly. "Certainly, Sir." She breezes by the coffee table to scoop up the metal coffee pot resting on it, returning to the Prince to pour him a fresh mug. 

Our eyes catch each other, a small yet obnoxiously noticeable smile appears on both our faces. Hyomin nudges my arm and mumbles, "And you've gotta wear something extra special for him, right?" What? My eyes widen, shock and annoyance evident in my expression. Shooting a piercing glare at her, I’m rendered momentarily speechless. Hyomin persists, her voice low, "Oh, don't act all innocent. I've seen how you two look at each other.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

A mischievous smile plays on her lips, "It's adorable, really. The blushing, the hair-tucking when he says hello, the clumsy encounters,” she says, tilting her head toward him. “Look how red his ears are.” I must admit, they are pretty pink. “We all talk about it, you know.”

“Did Natalie say something?”

“No,” she says confused, but her look soon turns suspicious. “Why would she?” Damn it. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? I avoid eye contact, hoping she’ll give up, but I doubt she ever will. “Mira, why would Natalie say something?”

“No idea.” 

She hums knowingly. "Yeah, right. You two are so obviously dating, it’s ridiculous,” she says, folding the decorative blanket that hangs on the back of the couch while he leaves the room. “We're all waiting for the announcement."

“We are not dating.”

Persistent as ever, Hyomin challenges again, "Look me in the eye right now and swear you haven’t at least kissed him."

I stand tall, smoothing the skirt of my uniform, then take a deep breath and lock eyes with her. “I swear I haven’t kissed him.”

Hyomin narrows her gaze, searching for any crack in my expression. My stomach churns, and before I can stop it, the words spill out in an unfiltered confession.

“…in seven years.”

Damn it. How did she get that out of me?

“What?”

“Shh—!”

“But wh-what do you mean?” She giggles, eager to hear what I’m assuming is the best gossip in years. Although, with royals, there has to have been something juicier than a teenage romance, right?

Motioning for secrecy, I say, “Promise you won’t say anything to the other servants. Please.” Hyomin nods, an expression that practically screams, Spill it. “We knew each other when we were teenagers. We dated then, okay? We broke up seven years ago. I’ve barely spoken to him since.” 

“Oh. My. God. Oh my god, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!”

“Calm down.” I hold my hands up. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? It’s a huge deal,” she exclaims. “Y’all are totally still into each other.” 

“I mean, he’s cute,” I say. “But that ship has sailed.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.” I nod. “We’re just too different.”

“I dunno, I think—”

“Nope.”

“I just mean—”

“Drop it, Hyomin. It will never happen.” My words carry a finality to the discussion.

“Fine,” she concedes, folding her dust rag to place on the table. “The question still stands—what are you wearing Friday?”

Shrugging, I shake my head, “I don’t have anything formal.”

“A perfect excuse for a shopping trip—let’s go into town tomorrow,” she suggests. “I’ll get someone to cover for us for the lunch service.” 

-

“Ah, look at you!” Hyomin cheers. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

“I can’t remember the last time I got this dressed up.” Actually, I do. That night. The night he broke my heart. But I’m not thinking about that right now. In fact, I won’t be thinking about Yeonjun at all tonight. 

Walking down the stairs into the royal hall, the silk of my dress rustles gently as it shimmers in the light. It’s a gorgeous deep viridian that cascades to the floor, creating an ethereal effect with every move I make. The bodice is fitted perfectly, with boning that snatches my waist and makes my tits look amazing. The off-the-shoulder straps elegantly drape across my arms. To complete the look, I’m wearing gold dangle earrings and my hair is styled in loose waves that cascade down one of my shoulders. Around my neck is a delicate circle pendant with a moon stamped into it. 

It’s simply beautiful in here. I’d helped set it up this morning, but seeing the guests dressed up, hearing the musicians playing, the grandeur of it all—it takes my breath away. The air is filled with the soft murmur of conversation with an occasional loud laugh. 

One couple glides along the dancefloor in each other’s arms, both of their dresses flowing gracefully across the dancefloor. A group of young people wearing crowns and tiaras clink their glasses near the champagne tower. Someone else checks their jacket at the front door. 

Deep emerald velvet curtains drape along the walls, adding even more drama. Every detail of the Hall has been meticulously curated to evoke a sense of luxury. 

“Excuse me,” someone says as they brush my shoulder. “Oh.” It’s Yeon—Prince Yeonjun. “Hello.” I nod to him before my obligatory curtsy. Not even trying to hide the fact that he looks me up and down, he makes my cheeks burn. “You look…” He clears his throat. “Um, really pretty.” Well, there goes me not thinking about him at all tonight. How could I put him out of my mind when he looks like this? Positively sexy as hell in his prince uniform. So regal, rich, and powerful. 

“Thank you, Sir,” I say. I catch Hyomin out of the corner of my eye looking stiff as a board with her mouth hanging open. 

Extending his arm out, he asks me, “Care to dance?”

God, I’d fucking love to. How did he do this to me so quickly? We have one nice conversation, maybe a few glances in the hallway and suddenly he’s making my heart race like he did when we were dating. “I don’t think it would look very good for either of us if you were dancing with one of your servants.” Is that even true? I don’t know. 

He nods, pressing his lips together. “I’ll see you later then?”

“When?” I ask as he raises an eyebrow. I hope I didn’t sound too desperate. “I just mean, I don’t know why we would see each other.”

“Right,” he says. “Well, have a good evening.” He nods gently at me and then to Hyomin before walking away. 

Turning to Hyomin, she looks at me with a wide smile and knowing glare. She’s such a smug bitch. “Oh my god,” she gasps under her breath, drawing the edge of her wine glass to her lips. “Look at Prince Sipho over there.” Tilting her head to the side, she adds, “He may be even dreamier than Yeonjun.”

I scoff in my head, but I’d never tell anyone that. Instead, I murmur, “Where?”

“Right over there,” she smirks, tipping her head toward a literal tall, dark, and handsome man. Commanding the room with his height, he undeniably catches my gaze—not an eye contact that stops time in its tracks, but one where we can’t take our eyes off each other. 

Prince Sipho pushes his way through the crowd toward me, but I can’t help but wonder where Yeonjun is. Actually, why do I care at all? Shaking the thought out of my mind, I welcome this new prince’s hand reaching for my own as he delicately touches my knuckles with the poutiest part of his lips. I suppose he’s too much of a gentleman to fully press them to my skin. 

“May I have this dance?” He asks, looking up at me through his eye lashes. So formal. Quickly glancing at Hyomin, she gives me an eager nod. I guess the servants will have something to gossip about later. At least that’ll replace the conversations about me and Yeonjun. 

“Yes, you may,” I say, returning the formality. We do all the obligatory dancing things—hand on my waist, mine around his neck, holding each other’s free hands. Slowly stepping with the classy romantic music of the string quintet, he admittedly looks stunning in his formal wear—baby blue with gold trim. The baby blue brings out the radiant sapphire undertones of his deep brown skin, the gold showcasing the warmth of his amber irises. 

“So,” he starts, his voice deep and rumbling. “Who am I dancing with?” 

Without any hesitation, I lie, “Charlotte.”

“Well, Charlotte,” he says. “You’re on Prince Yeonjun’s staff?” I blink up at him with confusion etched on my face. How did he— “The rose?” He asks, tilting his head toward my chest where a delicate ivory rose is pinned to my dress to differentiate us from the guests in case someone needs something from us. 

“Ah,” I giggle. “Yes. Yes, I am.” Where is he anyway? No. I’m not dancing with Prince Sipho to make Yeonjun jealous—I’m dancing with him because he’s hot, seems sweet, and seems to think I’m hot too. Why would he be watching anyway? This is his party. He’s probably busy schmoozing with some high-stakes donors or some other royals. 

Prince Sipho’s hand glides down to the spot right above my ass—he’s really testing the boundaries, huh? I love it. But guilt twinges my heart. Half of me hopes he isn’t watching this and the other half hopes he is. I don’t know which is worse. 

A loud crash brings the room to a halt and I try to locate where the accident is, but Hyomin waves me over. “Damn it,” I murmur. “I’ve gotta go…clean that up. Excuse me.”

After rushing to clean up the broken glass, I return the broom to the closet that’s three times the size of my bedroom. I take my time putting it back—a break from the hustle and bustle of the party is very much needed right now. The click of the deadbolt jolts my heart. 

A million things run through my mind. A creep is in here with me. Hyomin locked it from the outside and forgot about me and now I’m locked in until someone remembers to come get me. How long am I gonna be in here? Is someone in here with me?

“Hello.”

“Oh,” I say, relieved. “Hello, Sir.” I curtsy, tilting my head toward Prince Yeonjun as he steps into the light. Why is he in here anyway? I’ve been trying so hard to avoid him since the garden when we almost—nevermind. But he’s weaseled his way into my life. Telling the Queen I paint so I’d paint those portraits of them—yeah, I saw right through that bullshit. Bumping into me earlier tonight. But there’s nowhere to run now. We’re utterly alone. 

That’s terrifying. 

He’s never looked at me like this. Dark pupils dilated with lust and desire. It makes my heart race and I stumble back, tripping over some old cardboard boxes, but I catch myself on the countertop. 

Walking toward me, he keeps his hands in his pockets, but manages to box me in, cornering me and standing tall over me, intimidating and somehow…safe. I know he’d never hurt me. Physically at least. But I also can’t wait to see what he does next. 

“So it’s okay for you to dance with Prince Sipho but not me?” His voice grumbles with the low hum of the music right outside the door. 

“I’m not one of his servants,” I say matter-of-factly. “Why do you care anyway?” I ask cheekily as he creeps closer and closer. So close I’m fully backed into this counter now, almost sitting on top of it. “What are you—” 

“Can I kiss you?”

“No,” I answer quickly. 

“Mira…” he sighs. “How can you expect me not to kiss you when you look like that?” That makes me feel things all throughout my body that I definitely shouldn’t be feeling for ex-boyfriends, especially an ex-boyfriend that’s also my boss. And the prince of my country. 

My mouth parts and I swear I tried my best not to lick my lips. “Don’t kiss my mouth,” I say. I told Hyomin I haven’t kissed him in seven years. At least that’ll still be true after whatever happens next. 

Reaching for my hand with his white-glove-clad one, he places a gentle yet devastatingly sensual kiss to the back of it, looking up at me through his eyelashes like Prince Sipho did moments ago. But he had nowhere near the effect Yeonjun has on me. I bet he can smell the nail polish from when Hyomin painted it on my nails a few hours ago. As his perfect pouty lips kiss my hand, I can’t help but wonder how those lips would feel in other places. 

“You look—” he stops for another kiss on my palm. “Absolutely—” then the pulse-point of my wrist. “Stunning.” Then inside my elbow. Making his way up higher, my breath hitches in the back of my throat. “As usual,” he adds. 

That fucker. 

He’s always been like this. Silky smooth then sugary sweet. It gives me whiplash. 

Eventually, his lips explore my collarbone. “You’re so warm.” I don’t know how I got up here, but I’m fully sitting on the counter now. His hands are all over me—brushing my upper arms, grazing the smooth satin of the dress that covers my thighs, digging into the folds of my hips. 

How did this happen? How did I go from dancing with one Prince—a perfectly nice and gentlemanly prince—to sharing this romantic…something with Prince Yeonjun? Something because it’s not a kiss, it’s not more than a kiss, but it’s certainly not less than a kiss. It’s…something. 

His palm brushes the side of my breast and he stops himself from pushing any further before he whispers in my ear, “Can I touch you?”

“I think you already are.”

Firmly squeezing my tit over my dress, I groan as my back arches. Oh my fucking god. Is this real?

Something in his body language switches at the sound of my groaning and he drops everything to get to his knees. He pushes the skirt of my dress up and past my thighs, looking up at me for permission.

Is he…? 

My pussy clenches around nothing at the sheer thought of those gorgeous plump lips around my clit. I let him explore further with his lips without any hesitation whatsoever. Then they’re inside my thighs, slowly moving closer where I desperately need him. Nerves fill my stomach. Flashbacks of other guys going to taste me and not liking what they find enter my mind. Is that gonna happen with him? Is he gonna be turned off by my hair? My stretch marks? The way my fat thighs cover his ears?

As much as my inner feminist hates those thoughts, there’s always that twinge of embarrassment that I still haven’t managed to work through. 

“Yeonjun…” I sigh. “You don’t have to.”

“What if I want to?” He asks. “Do you want me to?” Obviously. I nod. Pressing his lips to the outside of my panties, he breathes me in and I realize he’s never been this close to me. Ever. 

Sure, we’ve kissed, but we were teenagers, we had no idea what we were doing. It never got this far. Never got past the occasional makeout session on my picnic blanket under the willow tree. “You smell so good.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

“I’m serious. You smell delicious.” 

Lips delicate and careful, he takes his time. I never thought this is how it would be with him. I always thought of him as the kind of guy to get straight to it. At least that’s how I imagined it—him embracing me because he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed me right then and there. Whisking me off to his bedroom to undress me, never careful, never delicate. 

But I love it. Love taking a deep breath, letting my head lull back onto the wall behind me, my entire body relaxing. The feeling of a tongue flicking my clit for the first time in months, and the first time it’s his tongue. I card my hand through his hair, gripping some strands between my fingers. Mouth dropping open, I sigh, looking down at him, eyes closed, fully entranced by my taste. Thank fuck he knows exactly what he’s doing now. 

The softness of his white cotton gloves feels like heaven against the heat of my thighs, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want his bare hands on me. 

Like a mind-reader, he plucks his gloves off, one finger at a time, putting me under a spell as he goes. I stare at him as he loosens the glove by pulling on the pointer finger, then the middle, the ring, his pinky, then tugging it all the way off. It’s so sexy. I think I caught a small smirk, but it's just dark enough for it to be hidden. 

The tip of his finger teases my entrance and I can tell— “Fuck,” he gasps. “You’re so wet, darling.”

Don’t call me that. But I can’t bring myself to say it out loud…I’m not even sure I’d mean it if I did. He finally pushes his finger all the way inside me, curling the tip of it to find just the right spot that makes me absolutely moan. He lets go of my skirt to grip my thighs, finally feeling him squeeze and touch me after all these years of wanting him. I beg myself not to stop him and make him touch me everywhere before continuing. 

My pointer fingers graces his and he intertwines his fingers with mine. Something this intimate only happens between lovers, right? Holding hands while fucking in the closet when there’s a party right outside the door? I can’t decide if this is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done or if it’s the most romantic thing. 

Arguing with myself internally, a second finger breaches my entrance, filling me even more so than before. He’s incredible…almost skillful with his fingers. It’s sexy. And exciting. 

Expertly flicking his tongue, he finds the perfect spot with his fingertips, forcing me to buck my hips…fuck I’m so close already. How did he do this to me?

“Please…”

Everything comes to a halt. “Please what?”

“Fuck, Yeonjun, don’t do that to me.” 

“Don’t do what to you? Get you to talk to me?” I look down, defeated. How am I supposed to respond to that? Is that the only reason he’s doing this? Because I’ve been avoiding him and this was the only way he could think of to get me to talk to him? “Tell me what you want. What are you asking for?” Oh. It’s like that. Okay. 

“Please…” It’s already unbelievable that we’re doing this in a closet with a party going on outside. Prince Yeonjun is on his knees for me. And he’s making me beg? I can hardly take it. “Uh…” I stutter, trying to close my legs instinctively. He backs off, eyebrows furrowed. He’s worried about me. I didn’t mean it like that. “You’re not finished yet, are you?” I ask, pushing him back closer with my heel. 

“I’ll finish when you tell me what you want.”

Gracing my finger under his chin, I force him to look at me in the eye before saying, “Make me come. I need it so bad. Please.”  

Cocking his head to the side, he says, “I’ve always wanted to hear you beg for me.” 

My chest heaves as he dives back in for more, flicking his tongue the way I love, thrusting his fingers in and out of me. 

“Fuck, you feel good.” 

“You are delicious.” I’d love it if he could talk to me the way I—and hopefully he—likes. Dirty, up close and in my ear, but this’ll have to do for now. He can get to the real good stuff later. Will there be a later though? 

A white-hot feeling that someone hasn’t made me feel in quite some time quickly approaches. Deep in the pit of my stomach, it bubbles as my body tenses, breath shallow and quick. It builds and builds until all I want to hear him say is Come for me, darling. I know you’re so close. But I know he won’t. He has to stick to the matter at hand. 

With a sharp inhale, I moan and whimper, euphoria washing over me as my thighs tighten around his head. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this good. He’s incredibly talented—like I said, he’s an all or nothing kinda guy and I love that about him. 

“Fuck. Oh my god,” I gasp, my hips rolling needing more, more, more. Goddamn, I’m in trouble. “Holy shit.” I trail off, my breathing shallow. My eyes squeeze shut as my head drops back before my body starts flinching. “Thank you, Sir.”

My body goes slack as he slows down. Once I catch my breath, my eyes flutter open to see him looking at me with a cheeky smirk. He’s so fucking smug. 

“Sir?” 

Shit. That is just about the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve been correcting myself for weeks, reminding myself to call him Prince Yeonjun, Your Majesty, Sir. I know he hates when I call him that, even in normal scenarios. I can’t imagine how mad he is now that I’ve called him that while giving me an orgasm. Not just any orgasm, though. One of the best I’ve had in months. All while wearing our formal wear too. Fuck, he looks so sexy in his uniform. Especially with it slightly disheveled, hair messy, gloves off. 

“It must’ve slipped.”

He simply stands, darkness and lust still in his eyes as his hands grip my hips, squeezing harshly before moving them up further to my waist. His right hand trails up even higher, cupping my face to force my ear to line up with his lips. “Call me that again next time.” Next time? There’s gonna be a next time? “Got it?”

Speechless, I compose myself before whispering, “Yes, Sir.”  

cw. cunnilingus, mentions of previous bjs and hand jobs, mira is described as chubby/fat/curvy in a good way, hickeys, biting, masturbation.

YEONJUN'S POV

“Mira,” I say simply as she walks by me looking gorgeous as always. Since our little rendezvous in the butler’s closet last month, we’ve “seen” each other several times since, each meeting ending with at least one of us coming. Nothing beyond oral and hand stuff—we still haven’t kissed or seen each other fully naked yet—but even so, it’s been amazing. She’s so good at it all. The teasing, the touching, the talking, all of it. I don’t think I can pick a favorite moment.

Maybe when she asked me to give her hickeys on the inside of her thighs. Her whispering, Give me hickeys, please…wanna look down and imagine you’re there after you’re gone. Oof. Chills. 

Or maybe when she laid her back against my chest and I rubbed her clit so perfectly, she dug her nails into my forearm for dear life, so hard it broke skin. I had to wear long sleeves for three days. 

Perhaps her seeing my cock for the first time, eyes wide as she said Oh my god, Sir. You have a beautiful cock. No one’s ever called me beautiful before, let alone my dick. That made me giddier than I even thought possible. 

“Yeon—Sir,” she quickly corrects herself in case anyone’s listening. Glancing around, we’re the only ones nearby. “You look nice. New uniform jacket?” I nod. 

Tonight’s occasion is much less grand than our first night together. A simple gathering with a few royals. It was the high-stakes donors I was hoping to get some money from tonight, but they’re all donationed-out it seems. 

“You look…” I look over her, never subtle about ogling her. “Absolutely stunning. New dress?” She subtly tilts her head. I stuff my hands in my pockets. What’s the point of delaying it any more? “I need to taste you again.”

“Already? You ate me out yesterday.”

“What can I say?” I chuckle. “I’ve got a craving.” She takes a deep breath before nodding at me, not changing her facial expression. “Closet, five minutes?” 

The closet isn’t the only place we’ve had our meetings but it is definitely our most frequented spot. Honorable mentions include the library, the sunroom, and under the willow tree where she laid back against me. That was only once but it was magical. 

As she turns away, I can’t help but wonder what the rest of her looks like. She’s got what feels like the most perfect ass, but I still haven’t gotten a good look at it. And her tits…good lord what I’d give to bury my face between her bare tits. 

“Prince Yeonjun?”

“Ah, Prince Sipho,” I say, returning his bow. “Nice to see you again.” He holds his hands behind him and maintains his intimidating eye contact. “I hope you’re enjoying dinner.”

“Can I ask for a favor?” He asks, almost urgently. 

“Sure.”

“I saw you were talking to Charlotte,” he says. “I danced with her last month and I never got her phone number.” His expression softens. “I realize how awkward and potentially inappropriate this is considering she’s on your staff. Would you mind providing me with her phone number?”

“I’m sorry,” I begin. “I don’t think I know a Charlotte.”

“You were just speaking with her,” he says matter-of-factly. “Right over there.” He tilts his head in the direction of…Mira? Happily prancing off in the direction of the closet. Our closet. Oh no. 

I suppose I should’ve seen this coming. Someone was bound to be interested in her at some point. I just didn’t think my competition would be another handsome prince. What am I saying? Competition? Stop being such an ass.

“You can ask her yourself, you know.” 

“Fair enough.”

“I don’t think now’s a good time though,” I rush to say, stopping him in his tracks before he turns around. “She’s busy. I just sent her to do a task.”

“Then I suppose you should give me her number now, then?”

After a few seconds of awkward silence, I finally speak up to say, “I’ll talk to her first. You know, make sure she’s comfortable with me giving out her phone number.”

“Of course.” He tilts his head and walks away. My mind races with questions. Did he sweep her off her feet? Have they slept together? Or worse: have they kissed? Why does he think her name is Charlotte? But I’ve gotta get back to the matter at hand.

“You’re already ready for me, hm?” I ask, seeing her proudly sitting on the countertop, waiting for me. She nods cutely, wiggling her feet back and forth. Locking the door, I take my gloves off one finger at a time before stuffing them in my pocket for safe keeping. Then I loosen my collar a bit, something I know she thinks is hot, so I always make a show out of it just for her. 

As I step closer, she grips the edge of the counter so tightly the veins on the back of her hand pop out. She crosses her ankles and looks down briefly but puts on a brave face to stare me in the eye. Wrapping my arms around her, I bury my face in her neck and breathe her in. 

“You smell so good.” I’ve noticed she’s started wearing a specific perfume for special occasions—the gala last month, dinners like these, she even wore it once when she shyly asked me to eat her out again on a random Tuesday. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Never taking my lips off her neck, I feel all over her, albeit over her dress, but she feels lovely. Dropping to my knees, I lift her skirt up to access her thighs with my lips, placing kisses everywhere. And there they are—those gorgeous hickeys I gave her last week. Still there. I swipe my thumb across one before biting her skin gently.

“Can I ask you something?” She hums as I move closer and closer to her center. Glancing up at her, her eyelids have fluttered shut and her hands are in my hair. “Do you know Prince Sipho?” Her hands stop.

“I know of him,” she says plainly. “Why?”

“No reason,” I say, nudging her thigh with my nose to encourage her to open wider. I add, “Said he danced with you and I guess he likes you.” I place a kiss on the outside of her thong right between her pussy lips. “Asked me for your phone number.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“...Oh.” She leans back, resting her hands behind her back for support. Is that a good oh or a bad oh?

“He thinks your name’s Charlotte though.” I chuckle. “What’s that about?”

“I don’t know,” she says awkwardly while I dig my fingers into her thong, pulling it down her legs, still watching her body language carefully. “That’s weird.” 

“Mira.”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, but still welcomes my lips around her pussy. “I dunno—I wasn’t interested so I gave him a fake name. Doesn’t everyone do that?”

“Mm…I suppose,” I say, spreading her lips to flick my tongue against her clit. Fuck, she tastes amazing. Every fucking time. Her hand flies to my hair again, taking quick breaths. “Why wouldn’t you be interested in him?” 

“Can we not talk about Prince Sipho while you’re eating me out, please?”

“I was just curious.” 

Why wouldn’t she be interested, though? He’s definitely her type—tall, handsome, smart, royal. 

Images of them dancing together, arms wrapped around each other, his hand sliding further down her back make my vision red. 

Maybe she’s interested in someone else with those same qualities, perhaps even more devastatingly handsome than him. And hilarious, might I add. 

But thinking about her dancing with Sipho while thinking about me makes me giddy. When else does she think about me? When she’s eating breakfast? Doing her chores? Getting ready to go to bed? In the shower? When she touches herself? Oh. That sends shivers down my spine. 

“How often do you think about me, Mira?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when do you think about me?”

She takes a deep breath, letting her head fall back against the wall, the slightest smile flashing over her lips before she says, “When I’m horny.”

“So you think about me when you touch yourself?” 

Her fingers stop again and she looks up, eyes wide like I caught her doing something she shouldn’t have been. I’d never let her see it, but I’m giggling on the inside. She’s so cute. 

“Um,” she clears her throat. “I guess, yeah.” There’s a looming awkward silence while I keep licking her. She’s trying not to react to how good it feels. Trying not to give in. 

“Well, go on.”

“What?” Mira asks. 

“Tell me,” I say. “Tell me exactly what you think about.” She takes a deep breath to collect herself, like she’s trying to hold back her noises and movements. I don’t like that she feels the need to do that with me. If anything, I crave hearing and feeling them. “It’s okay, you can tell me anything.”

Her breath hitches, eyes flitting away before locking back to mine. "I think about you touching me," she admits quietly, but I can tell she’s gaining confidence. "The way you did the first time.” She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. "I think about your hands on my body," she continues. "The way you knew exactly where to touch me, how to make me feel..."

"How to make you feel what?" I prompt, my hands gently caressing her thighs, urging her to keep going while my mouth is nowhere near her pussy.

"How to make me feel good," she breathes out, her eyes closing as she loses herself in the memory and the feeling of my tongue on her clit. 

“Do you miss it? ” I ask, my breath hot against her skin. "Do you miss me when I’m gone and can’t make you feel good?”

She nods, her breath sharp and quick. "Yes," she murmurs, her voice trembling with desire. "I miss it so much." My hands continue to explore her body, relearning every curve and contour, desperate to rip this dress off her, but we haven’t crossed that boundary yet. 

"What else do you think about?" I ask, my voice a gentle command.

“The way you taste.”

"And how do I taste?" I ask, my lips ghosting over her skin, teasing her with the promise of more.

"Salty," she whispers, her voice hitching. I can’t tell if she means— “That’s a good thing.” I smile against her skin, relieved while my hands squeeze her thighs. “But I mostly think about your mouth. How good you are at this. Those hickeys you gave me have certainly come in handy.” 

“How so?” I slide two fingers inside her and her breath gets quicker. 

Groaning, she says, “Looking down at them turns me on so much.” She swipes her hand across them. “Thinking about us sneaking around like this. It makes me feel…dirty.” She giggles. “Is that cheesy?” I shake my head and start licking her clit again. “They need to stop assigning me tasks while you’re around.” I hum in question. “The other day they made me clean the studio while you were in your pottery lesson—why it couldn’t wait, I don’t know—but it was too much,” she says. “Watching you with your sleeves pushed up, your hands on the clay, oh my god, you were so hot. You had me hot and bothered all day long.”

I genuinely had no idea. She does a great job of hiding that. Little does she know, I was stealing glances of her that whole lesson—I don’t remember a single word my instructor said. The only thing I was looking at was her body, her curvy thighs, full breasts, squishy tummy, the greatest ass I’ve ever seen and I haven’t even seen it bare yet. “What did you do afterward?”

She hesitates, tensing up, holding back. “I don’t wanna say.”

I stop in my tracks. “Tell me.”

“No,” she whines. “Don’t make me.” Refusing to speak or look down at me, I pull away from her, looking at her like, I’m not gonna keep going until you tell me. With an insatiable eye roll, she finally speaks up, “I thought about you.” I look at her again like, That’s not enough and you know it. “Fine,” she says. Of course, if this truly bothered her, she knows our safe word. Tapping her fingers on the counter before bashfully looking away, she admits, “I thought about you while I touched myself.”

Satisfied, I give her a kitten lick on her clit, making her gasp. 

“I, uh…I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, at the hickeys you gave me.” I start licking more and more, rewarding her for talking. “I thought about what it would look like if someone walked in on us while you did this to me. Or what someone would think if they saw the hickeys you gave me.”

Her hips start to roll and I know I can’t speak anymore. Because that would mean taking my mouth off her pussy, which neither of us want. Instead, my grip on the fat of her thighs gets harsher and I stay steady with my mouth, knowing this is the exact speed and pressure she needs. 

“I thought about you ripping my dress off but then slowing down to take my thong and bra off,” she says. Well, that’s new. We’ve never mentioned anything further than this. Does she want something more than this? 

“About you pressing your bare chest against mine,” she adds breathlessly. “You licking my tits.” Her thoughts and words start speeding up, like she’s telling me not to stop no matter what. “You tapping my clit with your cock.” Oh my god. She wants to do things like that with me? Fuck. I can’t show how giddy that makes me, not right now at least. 

Her hands hold onto my hair for dear life. Her moans pitch up and increase speed, like a chant, getting louder and louder. “You fucking me from behind,” she says. “Fucking me so good I can hardly take it.” She’s so close. “Until—until…” She's panting, clearly right on the verge of reaching her orgasm. “I’m coming so good for you,” she whispers breathlessly. I can feel it when her thighs tremble, when her clit pulsates against my tongue, when her nails dig into my scalp. 

Catching her breath after she comes, she finishes off with a sweet, “Thank you, Sir.”

cw. more yeonjun environmental activist, suggestive, cheesy idk. 

MIRA'S POV

“I can’t believe you did this,” I spit at Yeonjun, messily packing my old beat up carry-on. He refolds one of my t-shirts and hands it to me. 

“I thought you’d be excited to go.” 

Scoffing, I put a fist on my hip and face him. “I’m going as your servant.” He rolls his eyes before shoving his hands in his pockets. “All the other servants already think there’s something going on between us. Requesting me for your dumb business trip is gonna look suspicious.”

“Dumb?” He’s visibly offended. “This is an important business trip for me.”

“Still. They won’t shut up about this for months and you know it.”

“I thought you said there was nothing to talk about,” he says smugly, but I ignore him. “Look, I knew you wouldn’t act all servant-y the whole time, okay? Mother insists I take someone, but I’m a grown-up. I can do things on my own,” he says. “I knew you would be…normal, I don’t know. You wouldn’t curtsy, be on edge, or call me Sir.”

I stop in my tracks to look him in the eye and ask, “Except for when you want me to, right?” I hadn’t thought about what we might do at the hotel while we’re gone. Would he invite me to his room so he could taste me? Would he surprise me with a knock on my door? Would he text me to meet him somewhere else? I don’t know but I admit I’m excited to find out. 

The next morning, I hoist my suitcase into the trunk of the town car while the chauffeur, Eston, opens the door for me. I’m greeted with a sleepy “Morning,” from Yeonjun as he hands me a travel mug full of coffee that I didn’t ask for, but I’m definitely grateful for. 

“We’re taking the same car?”

“Of course,” he says. “Less cars on the road.”

Oh my god, he looks so cute with his sleepy eyes and messy hair. Although he flies commercial everywhere he goes, he wears every disguise possible: hat, face mask, hoodie with the hood up, you name it. We get to go through security privately though, which is nice. 

After our long flight, I want nothing more than to crash into a nice, warm bed—actually, any bed will do. It’s still light, but it’s evening and I’m ready to go to bed early. While he handles check-in, I scroll through my phone—international data plan paid for by the Queen, thank you very much. 

On the elevator, I ask , “Which floor am I on?” 

“Seven.” I nod, reaching for the seven button on the elevator, but it only goes up to six. There’s only one above it, which is labeled ‘Penthouse.’

Wait. “Did you only get one room?”

“Well…”

“Yeonjun!” I scream-whisper. “What is wrong with you? What did you think—”

He holds his hands up to clarify, “It has two rooms, okay? I wasn’t trying to…I dunno, make anything happen. It seemed easier.” 

The room is truly magnificent. Luxurious gold silk drapes frame the windows to let light flood the room. Sofas and armchairs surround a marble fireplace—cozy yet regal, just how Yeonjun likes it. An intricately carved coffee table sits in the middle of the room holding a vase of fresh flowers. There’s even a piano sitting in the corner. 

The view from the terrace takes my breath away. The gorgeous blues of Lake Geneva and the snow-capped alps are gorgeous. The air is crisp and clean and refreshes my lungs from the inside out. I lean on the railing, letting the cool breeze brush against my face as calmness washes over me.

“Gorgeous, huh?” Yeonjun asks as he stands beside me, his eyes scanning the horizon. 

“This is fucking incredible,” I say, my gaze never waiving from the beauty of the landscape. 

“I knew you’d like it,” he says. I glance over at him and he gives me a warm smile. 

“You’ve been here?”

“I’ve never stayed in this hotel, but I’ve been to Geneva, yes.” 

There’s a silence. Like we both know we want to do something, but we’re unsure of exactly what. Go in for a hug? No. Let him wrap his arm around me? No. Kiss him? Absolutely not. We can’t fall into that relationship space. The tension presses down on us, unspoken but palpable.

“Well, I’m exhausted,” he says, breaking the silence. “Did you wanna take a shower first or…?” 

“You can go ahead,” I say as I walk through the room, planning to unpack a bit first. Extending my suitcase’s handle, I ask, “Where’s the other room?” He grimaces, avoiding my gaze. “What?”

“Don’t be mad,” he starts, but I’m already visibly mad. “I must’ve looked at the website wrong.” I brace for the inevitable while he braces for my reaction. “This is it.”

“Seriously, Yeonjun? One bed?.” This is not gonna turn into a cheesy only-one-bed-left story. Nope. I won’t let it. “You better get me another room.”

“I already called and they’re out.” I’m fuming. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says. My face softens. I didn’t necessarily want that. “Really, it’s okay.”

“Yeonjun,” I say, guilt in my voice. 

“Mira, it’s fine. Really. It was my mistake, so I’ll take the couch.” 

“Okay,” I say. “I guess you can’t do stuff on your own, then, huh?”

-

The next morning, I wake up in this giant bed. Alone. The smell of coffee is already wafting through the air. Stretching under the covers, I sit up to see Yeonjun on the terrace, reading a newspaper. Not on his phone—a literal printed newspaper. I don't even know where he got it. 

An adorable little prince sitting there with his luxurious silk PJs, fuzzy slippers, messy hair, and the cutest pair of glasses anyone’s ever seen. Before joining him, I pull a hoodie over my tank top.

“Aren’t I supposed to get you your coffee?” I ask, admiring the view of the lake. 

“When you wake up on time, yes,” he says, not looking up from his paper while he pushes up his glasses. 

“I…I’m sorry,” I say, forcing myself back into my professional persona. 

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckles, sitting his coffee on the coaster and looking at me. “I wasn’t trying to be bossy. You seemed like you needed sleep. And I can get my own coffee,” he says. “Besides, today is a day off. You can get me coffee tomorrow.” I nod. “Did you have plans today?”

“I dunno…maybe I’ll draw by the lake or something.” 

“I’m kayaking on the lake and having a picnic lunch if you want to join me,” he suggests. “You can bring your sketchbook.”

-

The lake shimmers like a bed of gems, crystal-clear waters reflecting the sunlight in brilliant shades of blue. As we paddle alongside each other, our rowing is rhythmic until we reach a small pebbled shore on the other side of the lake.

Yeonjun jumps out first, standing up in the water to pull his kayak to shore. He’s so charming with his crocs and shorts short enough to expose his muscular thighs. The t-shirt he’s got on is somehow the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him wear, perfectly accentuating his pecs and clinging to his biceps. And the cutest lake hat sits on his head, making me absolutely giddy. 

Without having to ask, he pulls my kayak in so I don’t need to step in the water or pull it up myself. He offers his hand to me with a smile, my fingers lingering a bit too long after I stand to my feet. 

While I set up the blanket on the pebbled shore, I ask, “What’s tomorrow’s meeting about?”

His eyes light up while he unpacks our picnic. "Tomorrow's meeting is with the Global Environment Facility," he begins, settling back against the kayak, pouring some juice into two glasses. "We're discussing several things, but we’ll be focusing on keeping our water clean.” He tilts his head toward the sparkling Lake Geneva in front of us, its pristine waters a reminder of the importance of this endeavor. "Access to clean water is a fundamental human right," he says passionately. “But there’s so much…crap in them. You know 26% of the world doesn’t have access to safe drinking water?” My eyes widen. “And so many beautiful oceans and rivers and lakes like this one keep getting trashed.” 

His dedication is contagious, and I find myself leaning in, captivated by his words. "It's more than policies and proposals," he continues. "It's about creating real, tangible changes that will protect our planet.” He smiles, a mix of determination and hope in his expression. "I mean, I dunno…it’s a big goal I guess,” he says, glancing down in embarrassment. 

“Seems like you’re actually doing something about it.”

“We’re at least trying to make change happen.”

Sitting on the blanket, I fest my legs out in front of me with my hands supporting me from behind. He hands me a glass while he sits criss-cross next to me. “You seem really passionate about it,” I say. 

“I am,” he nods.

A comfortable silence settles over us as we enjoy our meal. Afterward, he takes his book out of his backpack, reclining back to rest his head against the kayak. I take out my sketchbook and pencils, setting it up against my knees and thighs. 

I try to focus on capturing the serenity of the lake, but my eyes keep drifting to him. His presence is so comforting and I’m reminded of that every time we’re alone like this. Watching him, I can’t help but think about what it would feel like to rest my cheek against his chest. Warm. Strong. Safe. 

“Yeonjun?”

“Hm?” He looks up at me from under his hat, but I don’t know what to say. After a few seconds of silence, he sits up completely and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I stutter, returning to my drawing. 

An hour or so passes—I’ve made great progress on my drawing and it seems like he made a nice dent in his book, but the sun’s setting fast. 

“We should probably go soon,” he notes. “We shouldn’t kayak in the dark and it’ll probably take an hour to get back.”

-

“Everything okay?” Yeonjun asks, startling me on the terrace. I hum, avoiding looking at him. He looks too good after showers—hair damp and skin pink from the hot water—so I better not take a peek. I’ve clipped my wet hair up—it holds its waves better that way. 

“I’m finishing up this drawing I started at the lake. Adding some watercolor.” 

“Is that me?” He asks, pulling the other seat around to sit next to me. 

“Yeah,” I nod awkwardly. “I just drew what I saw.” I say, giving in and glancing at him while he smiles to himself as he examines the art. 

Seconds pass before he adds, “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Me too,” I say, my arms crossed. He’s so, so close to me. 

“Yeah?” I hum. “Since you showed me this,” he says, gesturing to the drawing. “I’ll show you this picture I took of you,” he says, reaching for his phone in his pocket. Leaning even closer to me, I feel his warmth. I must say I look pretty. My hair’s windswept, I have a nice pink in my cheeks, and I look genuinely happy looking out over the water. His fingers mindlessly touch mine while he looks at me. “Thank you for coming with me,” he says. “You know, on the picnic.”

“No worries,” I say. 

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” he says, not moving an inch. Oh my god, he looks so kissable right now. I can’t believe how long we’ve gone without kissing each other even once. I didn’t think we’d last one week after we started…whatever we’re doing. Hooking up? 

Regardless, I’m relieved. We should not be starting something right now. He’s my boss. My boss and my ex that broke my heart. 

But we’re leaning in closer and closer, like we’re about to—don’t you dare. I catch myself first. 

“You can, uh…you can sleep in the bed with me if you want,” I whisper. He shakes his head and starts to protest. “Really, it’s okay. Swear. It’s a huge bed.”

cw. brief mention of the death of a grandparent, yeonjun environmental activist, eating food.

YEONJUN'S POV

As I make my way toward the grand conference hall, the weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. Today's meeting is a pivotal moment in my advocacy work and I need to be right on. I love this though. Speaking for what I believe in. Convincing people. And admittedly, sounding smart, which I am.

Glancing over my shoulder, Mira follows close behind me, which is what she’s meant to be doing. It still sends shivers down my spine. Our return to our professional roles after our idyllic kayaking excursion feels strange, but duty calls and we both have our parts to play. I square my shoulders and quicken my pace, the marble floors echoing under my feet. 

With a final glance back at Mira, she offers an encouraging smile and asks, “Ready?” I take a deep breath. “You’re gonna be great.” She opens the door and I step into the grandeur of the conference room. The air is charged with energy, a palpable sense of purpose radiating throughout the room. 

Taking my place at the head of the table, pride and excitement surges through me. This is it—the moment I’ve been preparing for, the chance to make a real difference.

-

Coming back home—hotel room—I’m exhausted but exhilarated. As I’m about to collapse onto the couch, a knock at the living room entryway wakes me up. 

“You hungry?” Mira asks, flipping through the room service menu. 

“Order whatever you like.”

“What would you like?”

“Anything’s fine. I’m not picky.”

After she places the order on the phone, we chat about the meeting a bit, but it isn’t long before the conversation gets lighter. We laugh about our kayaking adventure yesterday, recalling the near-disaster when I almost tripped into the water face first. The room service arrives promptly, and we dig into our meal. 

"So, tell me," she says between bites of her spaghetti, "what got you interested in environmental advocacy in the first place?"

I lean back, chewing the bite of pizza in thought. "I guess it started when I was a kid. You remember how much I loved nature even back then.” She nods. “Whenever I got stressed, I’d go outside—you know, for a walk, camping, whatever, and one day, I looked around and only saw wealthy people and it was one of those moments where I realized how lucky I am,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “Access to nature is a fundamental human right. It’s already inaccessible to many and it’s only getting worse.”

She nods. “It's easy to take it for granted.”

“It was something I’d never thought about,” I chuckle. “I was a fucking prick back then.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, a little too easily. She’s not wrong though.

“As I got older, I started to see the impact of pollution and climate change. I knew I had to do something, even if it was just a small part."

We continue talking late into the night, sharing stories and dreams, discovering new facets of each other's personalities. It’s in these quiet moments I cherish that I get to see some real parts of her, like in the garden, when she painted my portrait, when we went kayaking. 

“What’s something you’re passionate about?” I ask. She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “Nah, come on, you gotta be passionate about something.” Shrugging, she shakes her head. “How about your art?”

Smiling to herself, she asks, “What about it?”

“Why are you an artist?”

She leans back, tracing patterns of the fabric on the couch with her finger. "This is cheesy but when I look around, I see colors, shapes, emotions. When I draw or paint or whatever, it's like I'm putting pieces together, creating something whole. It’s not about making something beautiful, but capturing a moment or a feeling, things I can’t say out loud,” she says, glancing around the room bashfully. “Or whatever.”

“Not or whatever. You need to give yourself more credit.”

She nods shyly, looking down with a grin. "I remember this painting I did. It was of an old barn, you know, out of town a bit. Everyone thought it was just a pretty picture of decay. But it was about resilience, how even in decay, there’s a story that refuses to be forgotten, even if it can’t speak for itself or if no one’s listening but me.” I nod. “That’s what I really love. Finding those moments that only a few people notice. It’s like saying, ‘Hey, I see you and I feel this too.’” That’s amazing. She’s never spoken so candidly like this with me before. “Like when you asked if I was gonna paint your freckle and your birthmark, like, of course I am! That’s a part of you and I see you, you know?”

I chuckle with her. “Do you have a favorite piece?”

She thinks for a moment. “Probably a painting I did of my grandmother’s hands. She was a seamstress, and her hands were always so busy, always creating. When she wasn’t sewing, she was sketching, measuring, creating patterns. It was my way of honoring her, capturing her essence. Her hands have so many stories to tell.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She nods. “She was the one person in my family I really wanted you to meet back then.”

“Invite her over for dinner some time,” I suggest. 

“She, uh,” She clears her throat. “She passed a couple years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” She waves her hand. “I would’ve loved to have met her.”

“It’s okay.” But her eyes are tearing up just a bit. She blinks them away and adds, “She meant so much to me, but I guess that’s…how things go.”

“Where’s that painting now?”

“It’s back home, like, my home home, not the castle.” 

“I’d love to see it.”

“I’ll find it the next time I go back home and bring it back with me.” As the conversation winds down, we sit in comfortable silence as the city lights cast a soft glow through the window. "I should probably let you get some rest," Mira says, breaking the silence.

I nod, feeling a pang of reluctance. "Yeah, we have another busy day tomorrow."

She stands up, but before she leaves, she turns to me, her expression gentle. "Goodnight, Yeonjun. And thank you for tonight. It was nice to just...talk."

"It was,” I reply. “Let's do it again sometime."

cw. cunnilingus, protected sex, mira’s body is described as squishy/chubby in a good way, mention of moles and vvv brief mention of armpits, toys, body worship, masturbation, pet names (darling, love, babe, baby).

YEONJUN'S POV

After another grueling meeting, I’ve ditched my tie and unbuttoned a few of my shirt buttons while Mira has completely changed into lounge clothes back at the hotel room. Out of the corner of my eye, I sense her watching me, leaning up against the wall. But I let it slide. I don’t think she realizes how often she does it. 

“How did today’s meeting go?” She asks. 

“You were there.”

“I know, but how did it go from your perspective?”

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events fresh in my mind. "It was intense," I start, a mix of relief and excitement in my voice. "We covered a lot of ground. Like I said, we talked about keeping waters clean.”

“Did you all come up with any new ideas?"

"Actually, yes," I say, a spark of enthusiasm igniting. "We talked about implementing advanced watershed management and enhancing wastewater treatment technologies. But what really stood out was the proposal for a global initiative to reduce industrial runoff. It's ambitious, but the potential impact is huge."

She nods, clearly intrigued. "Was everyone on board?"

"For the most part," I reply, recalling the lively debates. "There were a few moments of contention, especially when it came to funding, so I’ll be doing a lot of fundraising for awhile, but everyone agreed they seem like good ideas.”

Mira's smile is warm and encouraging. "I'm glad it went well.” Her words, simple yet heartfelt, warm me up. She finally pipes up again to add, “You looked hot up there.” 

I chuckle. “Yeah?” She nods. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she starts, walking closer to me. “How smart and passionate you are. That’s hot.” That is exactly what I was hoping she’d say. I kept catching myself stealing glances of her during the meetings. It was hard to tell if she was looking at me to look at me or because that’s technically her job. Even if it is her job, I can tell between her different looks—her checking in look, her secretly admiring me look, and her I need you and I need you now look, which might be my favorite.

The look she’s got on her face is starting to lean toward that last one, but she’s not quite there yet. I only observe, let her fall into that place if she wants to.

“Well, thank you,” I tilt my head in her direction before the piano behind her catches my attention. “You know, I’ve been taking piano lessons.” She hums. Sometimes I forget it's also her job to know everything about me—everything about my schedule and activities at least. “You still like classical music, right?” She nods gently, a slight smile constantly on her lips. 

I’m not the best at piano, so I start fumbling through Moonlight Sonata. Giggling through every wrong note, she brushes some hair away from my face. 

“Ah, I need the sheet music,” I say quietly. Wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs, I know she’s still staring at me with look number three: I need you and I need you now. All professionalism has gone out the window. The biker shorts she’s wearing outlines her stomach perfectly, her thighs barely bulge at the hem, and her tank top accentuates her breasts beautifully. She’s a stunner. 

I reach for her hand and drag my thumb across her knuckles. My hands rest against the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer so she steps between my legs, my hand moving to her backside, squeezing her so deliciously. Her hands rest on my shoulders as I bury my nose between her breasts, taking a deep breath. She always smells so goddamn amazing. 

“I need you,” she whispers as her fingertips drag across my scalp. 

“I know, darling.”

“No,” she chuckles. “I need more from you this time,” she says breathlessly. I stand up straight, looking down at her as she looks at me through her eyelashes. “I need you inside me. Please.” 

“Of course,” I say, diving straight for her lips, but she turns her head, so my lips crash into her cheek. 

“Did I say you could kiss me?” Picking her up, I let my face rest in her chest again as I carry her to the bed, praying I don’t trip over anything along the way. As I sit her down on the mattress, she says, “Kiss me everywhere but my mouth, okay? Everywhere.” 

I don’t wanna argue with the no kissing rule right now, so I simply nod, covering her neck with kisses while I tug her shorts off her legs. Holding her leg by her ankle, I press my lips to it, trailing it all the way up to her thigh while her hand slips under her thong. I’m looking over her body, closing my eyes for a few seconds at a time, but I can feel her eyes on me. 

“Everywhere, babe,” she reminds me. Babe? I decide not to mention it—don’t ruin the moment. I slowly lift her shirt, but she gets impatient and takes it off herself, throwing it somewhere before tugging at the hem of mine, hinting at me to ditch it. 

My lips land right above her bra, kissing and nipping the tops of her breasts. I literally can’t wait to see her completely, so I waste no time in snapping it off and taking a second to admire her. Then, I gently kiss her neck and feel her whole body with my hands. Warm, soft, welcoming, curvy, squishy, perfect. 

When I squeeze her tit for the first time, she moans, arching her back while I sloppily stamp her collarbone with my lips. I want nothing more than to lick her nipples—it’s all I’ve thought about for the last few days—but…I dunno. I’m nervous. 

“Jjun…please,” she starts. There’s that nickname. It made my heart sing when she accidentally called me that a couple months ago. It used to slip past her lips so easily when we were together all those years ago, but now she stays so formal. “Lick my nipples, please.” 

Tongue flicking her nipple, her eyes roll back as her body follows. As I kiss further down her body toward her tummy, she reaches for my hair and pulls, making both our breath quicken. She takes the liberty of taking off her own thong and I get rid of my pants. 

We’ve been desperate for this. Desperate to actually feel each other’s bodies. Not clothing-clad bodies, but bare, vulnerable, warm bodies that want each other. And I can’t get enough. I thought I could taste her forever, but now that I’ve gotten my hands on her, on her squishy, chubby body, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off her.

She starts to get impatient, but I’m not finished with her yet. Landing back on top of her, I say, “Lemme just…kiss on ya for a second, okay?”

“Not my—”

“Not your mouth, I know,” I say, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, trailing down her jaw and sneaking in to nuzzle her neck. Whispering into her ear, I tell her, “I love making you gasp like that.” She chuckles, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, but I grab them and put them over her head to continue kissing her everywhere, tasting each bit of her with the tip of my tongue before pressing my lips to her. Her collarbone, her shoulders, her underarms. Everywhere.

She’s got the cutest mole on her side of her breast I kiss three times before moving on. 

A smile tugs at the corners of her lips when I gently kiss under her breasts. I lick a stripe up her chest between them, making eye contact with her, followed by a harsh bite of one of them. Reaching for her arm, I kiss her palm, then gently suck on the tip of her pointer finger. 

“Remember when you painted that portrait of me?”

“How could I forget?”

“When you put this pinky on my face,” I say, sucking on the tip of it. “I thought I was gonna explode. Feeling you so close to me like that. You looked so pretty that day too. With the sun shining in through the window and the plants around you.” Okay, shut up dork, too many feelings. I squeeze her tits harshly, burying my face in them. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.” 

Rubbing up and down her sides, she scrunches her shoulders, letting out a giggle. I kiss and bite her tummy—I’ve always loved her stomach, but especially so when she wears biker shorts. The way the fabric pulls, creating an outline of her tummy with rays of fabric going toward her hips. It’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. And to finally see her bare tummy right here in front of me, there’s no way I’m not gonna cover it in kisses. 

“Why are you being all touchy?”

Why wouldn’t I be? Spreading her lips, she looks absolutely delicious. I lick her clit, earning one of the most gorgeous moans I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth. 

“I told you, Sir,” she says. “I want all of you this time.” 

“I know. I’m just tasting you, darling.” I glance up at her. “You thought I was gonna fuck you and not taste you first?” 

Grinding against my mouth, she can hardly take it before she starts begging. “Please, please, please, Yeonjun. I need your cock inside me. Please. I need it so bad.” 

“You’ve never had to beg like this before, hm?”

“Nope,” she says. “People usually do what I ask.” Standing, I leave her briefly for a condom that’s in my toiletries bag in the bathroom. When I come back, she asks, “Prepared, huh?�� I nod awkwardly. “Wait, wait,” she stops me from rolling the condom down myself. “Let me see you.” I stand back, letting her look at me in awe before she reaches her hands out, rubbing all over my chest and stomach, kissing my hips, squeezing my balls and licking my nipple, making me gasp. 

Taking a deep breath, I admit, “I want to fuck you so bad, Mira.”

Sitting up on her knees, she reaches for my hand and places it on her breast before leaning into my ear to whisper, “Then fuck me, Sir.” Then, she takes the condom and rolls it down my cock, drawing out the process as long as she possibly can. “Your cock is so fucking beautiful,” she says. “I’m still not over it.”

She lays on her back and spreads her legs while I think of all the things I wanna do to her. I really wanna kiss her, but I can’t. She’s right. We shouldn’t. Resting between her legs, I rub my hands over her body again, taking my time contemplating, even if she protests, claiming I’m teasing her too much. But she teased me, so now I get to tease her. 

Honestly, I can’t believe this is happening. I thought we’d never get past oral in the closet. I line myself up with her entrance, bending to press my lips to her neck and whisper, “Are you sure?” 

“Yeonjun,” she says, placing a hand on my cheek to force me to look at her. “I’m sure. Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely.” 

As I push into her slowly, my whole world comes crumbling down around me. She is perfection. The way she wraps around me like a warm blanket, her eyes full of pleasure sparkling up at mine, the noises she’s making. Nothing else matters anymore but her. 

She breathes out like she’s relieved and says, “I’ve been waiting for this for seven years.” My head reels. Our arms wrap around each other as I find a slow and steady pace. Everything is her. She fits right in my arms as her nails claw at my back and her legs wrap around my waist to make sure I won't go anywhere, which I won’t. But I need to see the way her body moves. 

Sitting up, I stare down at her, pumping in and out, her tits bouncing with every move I make. Finding her clit with my thumb, the noise she makes in response is intoxicating. She arches her back, squeezing her own tit, which is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.

“That’s my girl.” Can I call her that? I don’t care. I’m going to. 

She giggles and scratches my thigh, whispering, “You feel so good. Faster?” And I can’t help but comply, speeding up my thrusts but maintaining control. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up though. I want…need to go faster and she’s asking me to, but I also want to take things slow, be with her forever. “Faster, please,” she almost sounds like she’s in tears. 

I don’t go much faster, though. This has to be perfect. I can’t be too much. But—

“Hey, stop for a second,” she says genuinely and I oblige, slipping out of her to sit back on my knees. She sits up and reaches for my hands. “Come here,” she says, pulling me closer so our chests are grazing each other’s. “Are you okay?” I nod enthusiastically. “It seems like you’re holding back.” 

“I just…you feel so good and I don’t wanna get carried away. And I don’t know your, like, limits.”

“You can fuck me so hard—no, I want you to fuck me so hard. You don’t have to hold back, okay?” She reaches down and squeezes my cock, waiting for a reaction from me. “I’ve been waiting for this cock and I need you to fuck me and don’t stop until I’m begging you to.” She smiles. “Unless you ever wanna stop, of course.” I nod. “Did you wanna take it slow?”

Without giving my brain time to process, I flip her onto her stomach, yanking her up by her hips so she’s on her knees, ass up. I gather her hair in a makeshift ponytail before thrusting into her so hard it takes her breath away. She feels indescribable—a radiating ache overcomes me and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go after this. 

My thrusts reach a speed finally fast enough for her as she’s whimpering on my cock, shuddering from the feeling of me buried deep inside her. The room fills with the sound of my thighs smacking her ass, making ripples roll down her cheeks. My hand tingles wanting to spank her, but that’s a bit much, no? But she said not to hold back.

I decide to indulge myself, spanking her harshly, my hand making a loud smack, earning an irresistible moan from her. She whispers, “Thank you.”

“Thank you, who?”

“Thank you, Sir,” she whimpers. I spank her again, rubbing it to soothe the sting. I’m fucking her so fast and hard that we’re both sweating, skin getting sticky and slick. Pushing on the small of her back to deepen her arch, I find an even deeper spot inside her. “Ohmygod—” Mira gasps. 

“You sound so sexy,” I groan. I don’t want her to hold back either. I want her to be as loud as she wants to be. No one else is on this floor anyway. Pulling her up by her shoulder, I reach in front of her to rub her clit, her head dropping back and onto my shoulder. 

Slipping out of her, she shudders and whines at the sudden loss but I turn her around so she’s on her back before I land on top of her again, pinning her hands above her head. Her knees fall open and I hook my hands under her thighs before thrusting back into her, earning an incredible eye roll from her. 

“Fuck, Yeonjun.”

“I know, darling,” I say lowly. I wonder if she actually likes it when I call her that. Should I call her something else? Baby? Babe? Love? 

The speed of my thrusts increases again, while I massage her tit. She grips her legs by the back of her knees, holding them wide open for me. “Look at you…being such a good girl for me, hm?” Using my body, I push her legs down gently, letting me in even deeper. Our faces are so close to each other, her lips are just begging to be kissed, but I resist. 

She takes a deep breath, her eyebrows stitch together and she looks up at me before saying with the most genuine sounding voice, “You’re so pretty.”

That makes me absolutely gush. My shoulders scrunch as I run my fingers through my hair before I bend to lick one of her nipples so slowly she can hardly stand it. Kissing up her chest, I whisper, “You’re fucking beautiful, Mira.” Her arms wrap around my neck to pull me closer. 

“Wait, Yeonjun,” she says. I stop in my tracks. “Can you, uh…” she asks, pushing me out of her before getting up off the bed. 

“Is everything okay?” I ask. “Did I hurt you?”

She’s rummaging through her bag and replies, “No, Sir.” Returning, she hands me a small clit vibrator. Oh. “Can you, um…can you use that on me?”

“Whatever you wish, darling,” I say, watching her lay on her back again, spreading her legs open for me. I switch her toy on to the lowest setting. “Do you think about me when you use this to make yourself feel good?” Before she can answer, I place it onto her clit. 

Gasping and nodding, she says, “Yes, Sir.” Her fingers grip the sheets before she admits, “I think about you every time.” She sighs. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

“Of course.”

“What do you think about doing to me?”

“I think about licking all over you. About making you feel good,” I say. “About you screaming my name.”

“You like making me feel good?” 

I nod and we’re both desperate as ever now. Desperate to feel each other. To come together. I thrust back into her, quickly reaching a speed we both like, increasing the intensity of the toy along the way. Her mouth drops open as she furrows her eyebrows, her moans getting higher pitched and quicker. 

“Mira, I wanna see you cum.”

Dropping one of her legs, she wraps it around my waist, grabbing my forearm, clearly close to losing it. “Don’t stop, babe,” she whimpers. I shake my head. “Please, Yeonjun, don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, darling.”

I reach the deepest part of her, and she finally lets go—eyes rolling back, thighs trembling, clit shuddering under the toy. She’s fucking stunning when she cums. Her other leg falls to the bed while she moans out loud, the corners of her mouth curving upward. “Babe, fuck,” she says breathlessly, “You’re making me cum so hard.”

My thrusts get sloppier and I bury my free hand in her soft waves, groaning and whimpering in her ear as I cum inside her, collapsing on her shoulder. That was truly the best I’ve ever felt. 

Forehead glistening with sweat under the moonlight barely shining through the bedroom window, she looks fucking gorgeous. Her post-sex glow would make anyone swoon. My stomach swirls with emotions. I need her. But I just had her. But I need more. No, I need something else. 

“I wanna kiss you,” she says. Fuck, don’t do this to me. “Please?”

I think about it for a second—I really do. That’s what I want, no, that’s exactly what I need, but— “You told me not to.” 

Shaking her head, she admits, “I don’t care.” She looks absolutely kissable right now. I need to feel her lips on mine again. Passing by each other in the hallway and pretending not to be fucking has been miserable. Every time I see her, I refrain from running up and wrapping my arms around her to give her the best kiss she’s ever had. Not being able to do that has been bad enough, but not even kissing her when I’m literally still inside her? Now that’s torture. 

The way she looks at me too—up through her eyelashes, eyes glistening from pure pleasure, cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen and utterly plump.

She hooks two fingers under my necklace to pull me closer, tilting her chin up toward me. Fuck, don’t do that. My heart races. “Please,” she says. “I need to kiss you.” 

No. Don’t. She’s the one that initiated the no kissing rule. And for good reason. We shouldn’t get involved right now. I let her tug me a few inches closer, but I dodge her lips and turn to my side to lean on the bed before clearing my throat.

“Let’s go take a shower, yeah?” I suggest. 

She sighs and says, “Okay.” Standing up silently, I watch her walk slowly to the bathroom, her body moving so beautifully, but I can tell she’s upset even from behind. I plop down on my back. Did I do the right thing? I want to kiss her more than anything but she’s told me over and over again not to. I didn’t want her to regret something because of the heat of the moment. I don’t want her to feel like I took advantage of her but I also don’t want her to feel like I don’t want her. 

The shower turns on, making me stand up. I catch her looking at herself in the mirror before she glances down. Without speaking, we both get in the huge shower that luckily has two shower heads. She wets her hair then smiles at me sweetly. 

“Can I at least have a hug?” She asks. I chuckle, opening my arms up to her. She wraps her arms around my waist. We wash the day off each other—stressful meetings, long walks to and from the conference center, the amazing sex we just had. The room is mostly silent with the occasional Can you hand me my soap? 

After drying off, we crawl back into the shared bed. I’m sitting up with my back against the headboard while I flick through the TV channels. Half laying down and half resting against the headboard, she keeps awkwardly moving closer to me, opening her mouth and breathing in like she wants to say something but never does.

I slouch a bit to get to her level before opening up my arm up to her and so she can lay her head on my chest. As she snuggles into me, I swear I could die happy right here. The air is calm and sweet and warm, her presence provides an overwhelming sense of comfort and I can’t help but graze my fingers up and down her arm until she falls asleep. 

As predicted, insomnia is my enemy tonight. Questions swirl around my mind. 

Should I have kissed her? What does she want after this? What’s she gonna be like tomorrow morning? How should I act tomorrow morning? After eating some almonds and a banana to try and induce sleep, I go for a walk around the hotel, trying to tire out my body and mind. Eventually, I lay back down thinking about what I really want between the two of us.

Normally, I’d squeeze my eyes shut to picture her lips and eyelashes, but the real Mira is lying right next to me. But I probably shouldn’t stare at her without her permission. With the warmth of thinking of her, there’s also a tug of uncertainty. What if she doesn’t feel the same way I do? What if she just wanted sex? I couldn’t really be mad at her for that, though. That’s what we both wanted at the beginning, even if there may have been some underlying feelings. That’s at least all we were expecting. 

Sighing, I turn away from her, thoughts tangling into each other, emotions pulling on the threads in every direction. I count my breaths, slow and steady, but each breath is full of her scent, making things worse, the adrenaline of unspoken feelings keeping me awake. 

Time stretches out and I look at my phone, the clock glaring back at me—4:37 AM. Another sigh escapes me, heavier this time. My meetings are done for the week, but I don’t like massive changes in my sleep schedule, even when I'm abroad. 

Pulling the covers over my head, I block out the world before quietly whispering her name, like it’s a confession I hope she may hear. I’m answered only by the faintest of snores that have been steady for hours. Finally, my thoughts blur, exhaustion pulling me into a restless sleep. But even in my dreams, she’s there, a shadow at the edge of consciousness.

-

“Hey,” I say groggily to Mira. “What happened to you?” Mira’s already dressed in her work clothes with her hair neatly tied back. The smell of the coffee she’s pouring wafts through the air and warms me up. I start to hug her from behind, but—

“I made coffee,” she replies, her tone professional and clipped. 

“Why’d you get out of bed?”

“To work. That’s why I’m here.” Her voice is detached and she finally turns to look at me. 

Searching her face for the warmth I’d seen last night, I say, “Yeah, but I thought after—”

“We shouldn’t have done that last night.”

“What?”

“Sex,” she says matter-of-factly. “We should not have had sex last night.”

“I know what you meant, but why not?” I ask, my heart pounding. “We’ve been practically having sex for months now.”

“Last night was different.” 

“So?”

Mira takes a deep breath before sitting the coffee pot back on the table. “Because, Yeonjun, I’m your servant and we used to date and now…”

“And now what? We pretend it didn’t happen?” Anger and frustration bubbles inside me. Whether I consciously knew it or not, I’d made my decision last night. I want to be with her for real and I’m willing to do whatever it takes, as long as she’ll have me. I was hoping she felt the same way, but she’s still not willing to admit the depth of our relationship out loud. “Mira, last night was…it was real. You can’t just ignore that.”

She looks away from me, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t do this anymore.”

My heart races faster with each step I take toward her. “It’s okay to have feelings.”

“No, it’s not,” she spits, twisting her head back to look at me. “I cannot do this again. We cannot do this again.” I start to interrupt. “I don’t wanna hear it, Yeonjun.”

“Mira, please—”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice breaking. “We have to end this before it even starts.” Her words bring a finality to us before she walks out of the kitchenette and onto the balcony. I suppose that’s it then. 

The silence left in her wake is deafening. I slump into a chair, running my hands through my hair, the weight of every unspoken word heavy on my shoulders. The morning light filters through the window, casting long shadows across the room. It’s surreal. 

No. This is not how we end.

Following her out onto the balcony, she stands with her back to me, staring blankly at the lake. The same lake we kayaked on together a few days ago. I envy the serenity of the water. “Mira, you can’t just walk away,” I say softly, hoping to reach her through the wall she’s built around herself. 

She doesn’t turn, but her shoulders tense. “You said it yourself, Yeonjun. I’m nothing. We couldn’t even be together even if we wanted to.” 

“Is that what this is about? You’re still upset about something I said seven years ago?” She shakes her head. “Then what is it?” She keeps turning away from me. And ignoring me. “Talk to me. Please.” 

“There’s nothing left to say.”

cw. crying, kissing. 

MIRA'S POV

The rest of our trip to Switzerland was business as usual. I made sure of it. I woke up on time, got his coffee, did everything a servant does and in the manner a servant would do. No smiles. No anger. Just business. 

“What’s been up with you recently?” Hyomin shakes me out of my daydreaming—or daynightmaring, perhaps—replaying that morning with Yeonjun. How hurt he looked. How it felt to break my own heart. How it felt to break his heart. “You haven’t been acting like yourself. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I say, glancing over at Yeonjun sitting at the dining table without even realizing it at first. 

Narrowing her eyes, she asks, “Did something happen between you two?”

“No,” I say harshly. 

“You can’t be serious.” I shrug. “You went to Switzerland together for a week and nothing happened? Not even a kiss or a not-so-platonic hug?”

“I have work to do, Hyomin.” Shaking my head, I stomp away in the direction of my room. Slamming my door shut, I press the heels of my hands into my eyes to stop the tears from coming but it's no use. My phone buzzes but I already know who it is. 

Yeonjun 3:52 PM Are you ever gonna talk to me again?

It’s been four days since Switzerland but that’s the twelfth message since we got back. 

Can we talk? Can you meet me in our closet tonight? Just to talk, nothing else. I’d really like to talk to you. Please stop ignoring me. 

I have sent zero. I can’t bring myself to. Tossing my phone on my mattress, there’s a black dress bag and a note on my bed. 

For Saturday. –Y

Are you fucking kidding me? He’s buying me gifts now? What kind of relationship does he think we have? We make each other come a few times, have sex in Switzerland once and now he won’t stop texting me and buying me dresses? Fuck this. 

Me. 4:01 PM Closet. Now.

-

“Hello, darling,” Yeonjun says smugly as I slam the door shut. 

“What the fuck is this, Yeonjun?” I scream-whisper, shoving the dress bag into his chest as his face turns horrified. 

“A dress,” he says defensively, trying to not let the dress bag fall to the floor. 

“Don’t patronize me,” I spit. “You think you can buy me or something?” He shakes his head nervously. “Taking me to Switzerland, staying in a fancy hotel, buying me food, now you’re buying me an expensive dress?”

“I took you to Switzerland as a member of my staff,” he reminds me.

“If you think for one second that I’ll just come running back to you because of this—”

He grabs me by my forearm and gently yanks me close to him to stare down at me hungrily, like he wants to take me right then and there. I know this look very well by this point. 

“You’re cute when you’re mad at me.”

“Shut up.” I throw the dress down and attempt to turn away from him. “Leave me alone, Yeonjun.” His grip tightens, not painfully, but firmly enough to prevent me from going anywhere. 

“Why are you so angry, really? Is it the gifts, or is it because you’re scared of what this means?” I glare at him, feeling the anger bubble up again. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I roll my eyes. He sighs, letting go of my arm but not stepping back. 

“I’m not trying to buy you, okay? I just...I like you. And I want to do things for you.”

I cross my arms, trying to maintain the obviousness of my anger but I can’t help I’m shocked. He likes me? Like that? I mean, I was hopeful but I never thought he’d ever say it out loud. Should I say it too? I almost think about it, but instead, I ask, “You think throwing money at me will make me like you more?”

“No,” he says softly, surprising me. “I just don’t know what to do, Mira,” he raises his voice. “You’re ignoring me and I want to show you I care about you.”

“I know you care about me, Yeonjun. I’m telling you to stop caring about me,” I say sternly. “It’s over.”

Over the next few days, he stops texting me, talking to me, I don’t even catch him glancing at me like I usually do several times a day. He must be avoiding me—or doing exactly what I asked him to do, I guess. Which pisses me off too. 

Saturday rolls around and we have yet another fancy dinner to host. The Queen pulled out all the stops for this one too—amazing food, open bar with fancy drinks, great music, even greater decorations. It’s gorgeous. I’d realized I should probably stop being such a bitch and make amends with him. As a gesture, I show up wearing the dress he gave me. 

“Prince Yeonjun?” I ask, watching his ears perk up as he turns around, a clear smile on his face at the sound of my voice. “Can I have a dance, please?” His face relaxes as he nods before he extends his hand to take me to the dancefloor. He performs his customary bow, followed by my curtsy. My tummy tingles a bit at the formality of it all. I feel like a princess. 

As my hand falls into his, nothing matters. Not our history. Not our future. Not his title. Not the lack of mine. I’m with him. We’re together. The soft music from the chamber orchestra is perfect accompaniment for us. 

I’d thought about the idea of us for so long. What we could be, what I want us to be, what I think he wants us to be. I don’t think it’ll ever work, but at least there’s tonight. There’s this dance. 

We sway together, hand in hand, my other hand on his shoulder while his rests around my waist. Eyes locked. His jacket catches the flicker of the chandelier while my gown flows down my waist and onto the floor gracefully. 

Expertly turning me, I can’t help but think back to the first night he broke my heart. Would he do that again? Pressing his hand firmer against my waist, I welcome it by pressing my body more securely against his.  The warmth between us grows stronger by the second. We’re falling in love again. Or maybe we already did. 

He towers over me, much like he did the night of our first kiss. Returning from a night where we’d once again snuck out to see each other, he walked me home. Standing on the front porch of my cottage, we refused to wish each other a good night. The moon was the only light source, but it was enough to see how handsome he was, even back then. 

“Yeonjun…” I whisper as he continues to lead us through a casual dance that lets us focus on a conversation. “I’m sorry.” He looks at me questioningly. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset about the dress. I felt…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I just felt so used, I dunno.” Horror crosses his face. 

“Mira…I didn’t mean—”

“No, I know,” I say. “But I felt like we could never be together, not really anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath and say, “Keeping secrets, never being able to tell everyone…we should probably stop…you know, what we’ve been doing.” I look up at him through my shaky eyes and he frowns but forces himself to nod. 

“If that’s what you want.”

“I just can’t,” I sniffle. “I can’t do this again. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t. I’m right here.” He presses his hands even firmer against my waist to prove it. 

“But where were you seven years ago? I’ve—” My eyes can’t hold my tears any longer, breaking free to run down my cheeks. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Brushing the apple of my cheek with his thumb, he lifts my face to meet his eyes. “I’ve missed you too.” Pressing my lips together, I blink a tear out of my eye and I shake my head in protest. “Mira…listen.” He never lets me go. “I am so sorry for what I said that night. If I could take it back, I would.” I smile. “You know that doesn’t matter to me. You mean so much to me,” he says genuinely. “That night in Switzerland meant so much to me.” Everything halts. Our eyes meet. “But if you want me to stop, I will. I’ll never bring us up again.” 

“Us?”

“You know I’m yours whenever you’re ready.” The wind’s knocked out of me. My heart races as he inches closer and closer. So close I can see each individual eyelash. “Tell me to stop.” 

“No,” I say, welcoming his lips on top of mine. His lips meet mine softly, a whisper of a kiss that feels like a promise. It's gentle, tentative at first, like we’re both terrified to lose each other. But then, the years of longing we've kept hidden surge forward, and the kiss deepens.

The room around us fades away, the music, the murmurs of the crowd, the flickering candlelight—they all dissolve into a hazy backdrop. All that exists is us, bound together in this moment of rawness. His hands move from my waist to cradle my face, his touch tender yet insistent. My hands rest against his chest. 

His kiss is everything I've ever dreamed of—sweet yet passionate, comforting yet electrifying. It speaks of forgiveness and second chances. The saltiness of my tears mingle with the softness of his lips.

It's as if we're communicating without words. Each movement, each touch, each breath shared between us is a declaration of our feelings for each other. His arms encircle me, holding me close, and I feel safe, cherished, and utterly adored.

When we finally part, breathless and overwhelmed, our foreheads rest against each other, our eyes closed as we savor the moment. The world starts to come back into focus, but it's different now. Everyone’s eyes are on us. The room has come to a halt. Glancing around the room, there isn’t one person that hasn’t stopped what they’re doing to stare at us. Not us. Me. 

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Excuse me.” I scurry off quickly, leaving him there alone.

cw. unsupportive parents, classism, crying, love.

YEONJUN'S POV

Everyone watches as she runs off like it’s a movie. She’s picked up her skirt to avoid tripping, and her head hangs low as she searches for the nearest exit. I awkwardly look around the room, excusing myself with a few head bows.

Running through the castle hallway, I catch up to her right outside my bedroom door. Her forehead’s pressed against the doorframe, arms wrapped around her body while she waits for me. She’s waiting for me. That gives me hope. At least she’s not running from me anymore. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” I whisper, grazing my hand across her shoulder blade. “C’mere.” I pull her into my chest, wrapping one of my arms around her while I open the door with my free hand. I lead her to my bed where she sits awkwardly scrunched into a ball while I rush to flick on some lamps. Then, I sit next to her, my hand resting on her shoulder blade for comfort. 

“I can’t—” she can hardly speak through her tears. 

“It’s okay.”

“I can’t do this, Jjun, I can’t.” She’s shaking her head, tears running down her cheeks. “I really want to but I just…” She trails off. Before I can speak up, she adds, “Your mother—” 

My heart sinks. “My mother? Did she do something to you?” Pressing her lips together, she nods. “Take some deep breaths, love, and tell me what she did.” She does as I say, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, attempting to compose herself. 

“After,” she starts hiccuping and I encourage her to take more deep breaths by modeling the breathing technique she was using earlier. “After that night in Switzerland,” she begins, but it’s too difficult for her to speak. Pulling out her phone, she silently thumbs through her phone to her voice mail box. My mother’s voice, cold and stern, plays from the speaker. 

Mira Ashenrose, the audacious servant who dares aspire beyond her station, it has come to my attention that your eyes linger far too long on my son. Your actions are not only bold but also insolent, as you seem to have forgotten your place within my castle walls.

Let me be clear: the Prince's future is one of sovereignty and grandeur, a path predetermined by bloodline and duty. Any attempts to disrupt or divert his focus with your insignificant presence will be met with severe consequences.

You are a servant, a role you should embrace with humility and gratitude. Your duties do not include entertaining fantasies of a life beyond your given position, especially one involving a royal whom you are unworthy to even address directly.

Cease your imprudent behavior immediately. Should I find even the slightest hint of your infatuation resurfacing, you will discover that my patience is not to be tested. Your continued employment—and indeed, your very well-being—hangs by a thread of my tolerance, a thread that I am fully prepared to cut.

Do not mistake this warning for mere words. You will find that I am a queen of action. Refrain from crossing boundaries that were never meant for you, and remember your place. It is only in your compliance that you will find any semblance of mercy from me.

Consider this your only warning.

By this point, her crying has subsided to sniffles but I’m speechless. How could she have done this? “I woke up that night after we…were together. You were still next to me. I was just checking the time and I had that message waiting for me.” 

“Mira, I don’t care what my mother thinks.”

“I care,” she says. “I can’t be with someone whose mother thinks of me like this,” she says, gesturing to her phone. “And you used to think of me that way. What if you start thinking like that again? Or do you already think of me this way?”

“Of course not,” I say, grabbing her hands. “Look at me.” She puts on a brave face before looking me straight in the eye. “Do you wanna know what I think of you?” She hums. “Perfect. Beautiful. Kind. Caring. Talented.” Smiling to herself, she looks down at our hands. “That’s what I think of you.” She nods gently and I brush some hair back. “You should have told me.” She shakes her head. 

“I decided to quit anyway,” she sniffles. “I already put in my two weeks. That’s why I asked you to dance. I wasn’t gonna leave without dancing with you at least once.” She glances down at my lips. “Or kissing you at least once,” she giggles. 

“Or twice?”

She chuckles again, glancing down at the floor, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “Sure.” I peck her lips gently. 

“Three times?” I ask, barely backing away from her. 

“How about you kiss me over and over until I tell you to stop?”

I don’t waste any more time playing silly games with her. I crash my lips into hers and we melt together, she groans against my lips and I deepen the kiss, my hand against her cheek. But she soon breaks it to ask, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why didn’t you kiss me? You know, when I asked you to.”

“Because I thought if I did, you’d do exactly what you did the next morning,” I say. “I didn't wanna lose you.” 

Nodding, she runs her thumb across my knuckles. “What are we gonna do?” She asks. 

“About what?”

“Us.”

“There’s an us?”

“Ah, shut up,” she laughs, nudging my shoulder. “You know I’m yours whenever you’re ready.”

-

“Yeonjun, what is it? I’m very busy,” Mother says, not bothering to look up from the many papers that are shuffled across her desk. 

“Mother, we need to talk,” I say, my voice steady but firm.

Sliding her glasses off her nose, she drops them on the desk and turns in her chair to make eye contact. “You’re right,” she says and I look confused. “What are these policy proposals you wrote?” Why is she reading those? How did she even find them? “This Freshwater Sustainability Proposal,” she says matter-of-factly. 

“What’s wr—”

“This is some of your worst writing. Half of it doesn’t even make sense,” she says, my stomach dropping. Those were drafts. “I mean, what is this part about ‘aquatic ecosystem revitalization through bioremediation techniques’? You think the council will understand that jargon? And this section on ‘community-based water stewardship programs’? It’s laughably naive. Who’s going to manage these programs? Volunteers?”

“That is a well-researched proposal meant to—”

“Well-researched?” She scoffs, flipping through the pages with a dismissive hand. “It’s idealistic drivel, Yeonjun. We need practical solutions, not fanciful ideas that belong in a classroom.”

“These ideas could make a real difference.”

She waves a hand, brushing off my words. “Idealism is pointless. We can’t gamble on untested theories.”

“Untested theories?” I can’t help but let a note of disbelief slip into my voice. “They’re proven methods many other countries have successfully implemented.”

“Our priority is status and stability.”

“What good is status and stability if our environment collapses?” I challenge.

She glares at me, her eyes cold before she lets out an evil chuckle. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.”

“Is that why you feel the need to control every aspect of my life?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I take a deep breath, preparing for the moment of truth. “When did you find out about Mira?”

The question hangs in the air, catching her completely off guard. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, but she quickly masks her surprise. “Who? Oh, that servant that quit last week? I did see you two kiss at the party.”

“Don’t play games with me, Mother,” I say, my voice hard. “I know you knew about us before that. That voicemail you left her? Where you threatened her, told her she was nothing but a servant, and to stay away from me.”

She recovers quickly, her expression turning cold. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing?”

“How dare you do such a thing?” I shoot back. “Mira is someone I care about and you had no right to interfere with our relationship,” I say.

“Relationship?” She rolls her eyes. “Your relationship is a shallow, pleasant distraction at best. She’s simply a way to blow off steam, to indulge in sexual frustrations.”

Ew. But okay. “It’s more than that, Mother. Mira means something to me.”

She sighs, a mix of impatience and disappointment in her voice. “Yeonjun, you’re too young to understand the complexities involved here. You have a duty to this kingdom, to your people. Mira is not part of that equation.”

“If you can’t find a way to accept the woman I love, then…I don’t know if there’s anything else for us to say to each other.”

“You’ve known her for three months, Yeonjun. You’re not in love.”

I shake my head. “We’ve known each other for seven years.”

“What?” She asks, shocked. “You’ve been seeing her behind my back for seven years?”

“No,” I say. “We used to date a while ago and then we…I dunno, started back up after she started working here.” 

“You think you love her,” she counters sharply. “But what you feel is temporary. It’s not sustainable. And you’re all for sustainability, right?” I roll my eyes. “I will not allow you to jeopardize your future and duty for a fleeting infatuation,” I say. “Your choices affect everyone,” she says, her tone unyielding. “Including the stability of this kingdom.”

“You’re trying to control me,” I accuse, feeling the weight of her authority pressing down on me.

“I’m trying to protect you. You must think beyond your own desires.”

Eventually, I say, “Mother, mind your business.” I storm off, headed in the direction of the garden to get some air. I don’t stop walking until I find myself sitting under the willow tree that Mira and I love so much. She’s always loved it here. 

Maybe Mira’s right—I don't know if it's such a great idea to be with someone whose mother thinks of them like mine does about her. Fuck, this is so unfair. Regardless, Mother’s getting what she wants. Us not together. 

Quiet footsteps approach me. Not now, please. I can’t argue with Mother anymore. 

“The woman you love, huh?”

“Mira,” I say, happiness evident in my voice. “Hi.” She smiles, holding her hands behind her back before she walks closer to me. “Um…” She sticks her hand out for me to grab and helps me to my feet. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear,” she says but I wouldn’t care if she were to be honest. “I was getting some water from the kitchen and overheard.” 

“Mira…” I say, an undeniable smile spreading across my face, my hands running down her arms, wrapping around her waist to bring her closer. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Why’s that?” She asks with a sweet smile. 

“I’m always happy to see you,” I say. “I’m sorry you had to hear what she said about you.” She shakes her head. “I do by the way,” I say. “I love you.”

“Fucking finally,” she whispers before reaching her arms around my neck to pull me closer to her, crashing her lips into mine. They move over each other passionately. She tastes so fucking delicious. She feels so fucking warm. She smells so fucking good. “Oh, I love you too,” she giggles, breaking the kiss. “Sorry, I should’ve said it sooner.”

“I love you too too,” I say between kisses. “So much. You have no idea.” She looks so sweet. “I guess we should probably talk about—”

Shaking her head, she says, “Not yet. Let’s just—” She gives me another deep kiss. “We can think about that later, okay?” I nod and press my lips to hers again. 

Everything is so perfect. The way her laugh echoes in my ear like nothing could ever go wrong, the way her body slowly but sensually grinds against my own, the way we know we love each other and can finally say it out loud, even if we don’t know what the future holds for us. 

Breaking the kiss gently, she’s absolutely stunning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as gorgeous as her. I brush my thumb across her eyebrow and say matter-of-factly, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she replies. “So are you.”

The air shifts. We’re alone and we’re hyper aware of that fact. I doubt anyone could even hear us. Our eyelids get heavy as we lean into each other, our lips touching in a fiery kiss that leaves me needing more. Holding her cheek in my hand, it grows deeper and hotter until a tiny moan leaves her mouth. “Fuck,” she says under her breath. “You’re such a good kisser.”

“That’s all you, baby,” I say, sliding my hand down to squeeze her amazing ass. 

“Yeonjun,” she whines. “You can’t tell me you love me and then not immediately fuck me.” 

“I can’t even imagine doing such a thing,” I chuckle.

“You think…” she glances behind her. “Think we can sneak into your room together?”

“Absolutely.”

Walking back to the castle makes us all the more giddy. Hands touching each other playfully, giggling and flirting in hushed tones all the way back to my room where I lead her to my bed. 

Landing on top of her, she’s so pretty. Covering every inch of her bare skin with kisses, I can’t stop whispering compliments to her. Real compliments I’ve always wanted to say. 

You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m so lucky I get to love you. I love every inch of you and I’m gonna show how much I mean it. 

“Please, Jjun, I need you.”

“You know I need to taste you first, though, right?”

“Of course.” She lets me slip her sweatpants off her legs, the cool air making goosebumps prick her skin. Her maroon thong is so sexy. Desperately moving her thong to the side, I take a deep breath, wanting to take my time with her. Letting go of her thong, it snaps back into place, covering her back up. I press my lips to her tummy, peppering her with soft and slow kisses. 

“So perfect,” I whisper against her skin. And I mean it. Every time I say it. “I could worship your body for hours.” 

“We’ve got time, my love.” 

All I know is by the time I’m done covering her body in kisses, the sun has completely set and she’s illuminated only by the lamp on my bedside table. But I can absolutely still see how beautiful she is. I could see her beauty in the pitch black. 

“Yeonjun,” she starts, pulling me up to look her in the eyes. She brushes some of my hair back and says, “Whatever happens after this, I want you to know—” I start to protest. What does she mean? I know what’s gonna happen after this. We’re gonna find a way to be together. “I want you to know that I love you, okay?”

“Mira…I love you too.”

“Just know that…” she takes a deep breath. “I’m yours.”

I give her a long, lingering kiss and say, “And I’m yours.”  

@aduh0308 request a tag :)

[multifictionx]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | SERIES 

Excuse me for spelling the chapter number wrong, I was in a hurry and didn't have time to change it.

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

Ch. 11

Ch. 12

Ch. 13

Ch. 14 (End)

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 

Word count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, and just being his sexy self. Possessive over his princess. Happily ever after with a fluffy and spicy scene involved. They have one more person in the family. Just a happy emotional ending. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: The long waited epilogue is here. I hope it's not too sloppy. I know it's pretty short, sorry. \: Haven't have time to publish it earlier because of health issues but I wanted to end the series finally so you don't need to wait longer! Enjoy .

TEN MONTHS LATER

Jungkook POV

Leaning back in the chair, he felt exhausted from the paperwork which needed to be done because of his kingdom's new adjustments and changes since his wife started living with him so if he wanted this place to be peaceful for her health, he needed to get it sorted out.

It meant better security around the castle and banning all the people who wanted him gone from the throne. It was hard work for several months but it was time to be able to breathe better once he finishes everything.

Massaging his neck, he felt stiff after working so much in the office all day. He already missed his wife and the little sunshine.

He smiled at the thought.

She gave birth to a beautiful baby boy and he was grateful for her giving him such a gift. He had his wife's blue eyes, father's nose but already growing small wings which was surprising considering the fact his wife is just a human. He at least inherited something from his world too and he was glad that the baby boy will have freedom to fly like his father can.

His love for her was so strong that he even rejected his position as guardian angel from heavens above.

It was not a hard decision. He already knew he will have Y/n by his side for eternity but the high angel council was disappointed in him to lose his powers because of a human. Months later they started to see that they can't do anything to change his mind so they allowed him to live on earth and still have his wings at least for protection.

Now he had people to depend on. A beautiful family by his side and he couldn't be happier.

The link with his wife allowed him to feel her emotions and as he sat there, thinking about her, the distress was getting stronger than usual. He didn't understand why.

Mindlinking her, he sent her his thoughts.

"Are you awake, my love?"

His question was left unanswered so it meant that she is sleeping because it was late at night already.

Immediately standing up, he took his cloak as well as his sword and headed out of the door. He needed to find out what's wrong with her.

His royal adviser Minho, the fallen angel was already waiting by his chambers when he bowed to his king," Your Majesty."

"My wife. Is she inside?"

"Uh, yes. She hasn't been outside for several hours so I assume the young prince also is inside."

He furrowed his eyebrows," And you are informing me only now?" he glared at him, his eyes blazing with emotions.

Minho bowed again, trembling in fear," I'm sorry, Your Majesty. It will not happen again."

"You better. Now leave," dismissing him, he went inside his chambers.

Leaving the cloak and the sword on a small wooden bench by the door, he went further inside, only just to stop in his tracks.

His wife was sleeping on a rocking chair, holding their baby boy, both were dreaming about something but the look on his wife's face worried him.

Is she ill? She was sweating.

Silently approaching them, he took his son in his arms when she blinked her tired eyes open," Jungkook?"

"Hey, love," he softly whispered and leaned down to kiss her forehead, feeling her face burning," Do you have a fever?" His concern was obvious.

She shook her head and just closed her eyes. That alarmed him.

Taking his son to the nursery room, he put him inside the crib to sleep, kissing his the crown of his head," Goodnight, Fin. I will go take care of mommy so sleep well my sweet boy," in response, the the baby boy just murmured something in his sleep.

Smiling, he went back to the living quarters to see Y/n in the same position as before.

He gently picked her up as soon as he reached the bed, putting her on the middle pillow where she usually slept in. It was strange that she wasn't moving at all. He could feel that she was burning, distressed about something.

Completely undressing from his attire, she didn't even resist when he pulled all of her clothes off so she isn't hot under the covers.

"Sweetheart, darling, are you sick?" His worried hushed tone made her whimper when she burrowed herself in his arms, suddenly shivering like she was cold.

This won't do.

Lifting her up in his arms again, he carried her towards the big bathroom where the biggest bath was located in their private space that they used for whenever they were together or for times when one of them has a headache. There was also a special medicine cabinet in case either of them have an emergency.

When he entered the bathroom, he quickly placed her inside the huge tub. Turning the tap for warm water, he let it run into the tub filling it up until it was nearly at the top. Then he turned off the water and added some smelling herbs for her to heal the body faster and possibly temperature will drop to normal again.

Taking the medicine for the headache and fever in the small bowl, he put it beside the tub for easier access.

Sliding behind her, he pulled her naked body between his legs, hugging her to his chest, her hair already wet and sticky against her skin. Gathering it together, he tucked her hair in front of her over her left shoulder so they doesn't tickle his nose that much.

Kissing her neck slowly, he takes one medicine pill and gently tips her head up with his hand beneath her chin, his fingers resting against her throat in a gentle hold," Open your mouth, baby."

Her tired eyes open with little strength as she obediently opens her mouth. Smiling at her, he slips the pill between her lips," Suck it gently. It's has a sweet taste to swallow better," he explains.

He watches her tongue wrap around the pill as she starts to suck it and he felt proud that she managed to keep it inside of her mouth so long before finally swallowing.

"Good girl," he coos, running his fingers through her long, silky hair and massaging the soft scalp.

She snuggled closer to him, nuzzling against him making him chuckle at her cuteness," Are you sleepy yet? You've probably been tired of nursing our son all the time and I haven't even checked your health. I'm sorry for failing you," he dropped his head against her shoulder in guilt.

Like a good wife she always is, Y/n lifts her hand over his head, massaging his hair gently," It's okay, Jungkook. I'm fine now because of you."

"No, it's not. You deserve more," he said as she moved away slightly and looked at him with sad blue orbs.

His heart clenched as he noticed how pale she was and how thin she has gotten over the past few months. "I promise I will spend time with you and our son more often now. It's just my duties require so much work that I..."

"It's okay, Jungkook. I know. You're the best husband and king in the world. To me you're perfect in every aspect. Times can get rough sometimes but that's why we are here for each other to support and help in the times of need. Being parents are not easy but I'm glad to be here with you, with our baby living the best life every woman could ask for. You've given me the world and I love you for that," her eyes are full of love for him and he can't help but feel tears forming in his eyes. It was hard to breathe for a moment.

He still couldn't believe that she belongs to him. This beautiful woman was his forever. And so is the son she gave birth to.

Taking her cheek, he seals his mouth over her inviting rosy lips, the tears escaping his eyes in silent waterfall. His emotions were too strong, too overwhelming.

The link between them showed him that she is really telling the truth. She loved him unconditionally and always would.

"I love you," his breath shuddered in fear to lose her, afraid to look away from her beautiful, soulful blue eyes.

As if reading his mind, she cupped his face between her hands, caressing his cheeks lovingly with her thumbs. Her eyes filled with joy and warmth which brought him happiness as well as relief.

A soft smile appeared on her lips," I love you too."

He never cried. Never. The life before made him grow up with nerves of steel but now the thought of something happening to her and his son, the thought of losing them scared him beyond belief.

But this time it happened. Everything came crashing down in a matter of seconds and he couldn't hold it in anymore. Not when she told him that she loves him. Forgives him for not caring enough about her feelings or health issues.

He was shaking uncontrollably as he held her tighter. His eyes shut tightly while he sobbed uncontrollably in her embrace.

She was ill so he didn't wanted to burden her with worry for him but she just held him tightly back, slowly straddling his lap, kissing him with all of her last energy from how tired she was but it was like she doesn't care. The only important thought was reassuring him, to show him how much she loves him.

Pulling slightly back, his eyes were blurry from the crying, probably red when he rested his forehead against hers," You're my whole world, Y/n. You and Fin are the most precious souls in my heart right now. I'm so happy that you chose me," his smile is brighter and this time his wife is holding her tears back but failing miserably when she starts crying and laughing.

When she calms down, she looks at him," We are such sappy fools."

He chuckles at that," You're right. We are a mess. But only with you," he says in a low voice and suddenly realizes their position when her clit slides against his hardness.

"Fuck," the feel of her wet slit against his throbbing cock makes him drop his head back on the edge of the tub.

"Baby...If you don't want me to fuck you right here, I suggest you to leave the tub. I'm really hard because of you," he whispers in husky voice, watching her carefully for her reaction.

She still blushes even after all these months together, even after giving birth, she always seem shy when he talks to her dirty.

"Sweetheart," his plead was enough to make her lift her hips in encouragement as she hid her face in his shoulder.

"All right," she breathes and that's what it took to grab her hips and push his length inside of her, sinking deep enough to feel her walls contracting against his length. He groans at the feeling that they're connected by nothing but skin and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist keeping her close to himself as he pulls out only a tiny bit then thrust back in with a strong thrust before taking her again.

"Jungkook ah," she whines in pain as he moves fast and harder.

Not able to take any more, he grabs her ass as he leans forward, lifting her body up high above the surface of the tub, spreading her legs enough to split her in two, causing both of them to moan loudly at their new position.

'Fucking hell! I can't stop myself. She feels amazing. Too good to be true. So beautiful.

"I'm so sorry, love. I can't help myself," he chokes out while pulling out to come deep inside of her once more.

Y/n throws her head back, screaming his name.

With an angry grunt, Jungkook pushes harder into her, grunting again in pleasure at the feeling of being filled, filling her until his balls hurt but he can't find any ounce of self control because of her and her smell, her taste.

He couldn't help the loud, guttural noises as his cock jerks against her, pumping so powerfully inside of her and he knows it's coming soon.

He knew that Fin is sleeping two rooms away but fuck, she felt incredibly good and he had to make sure this moment stays between them until they reach heaven and the end of their journey.

Pushing himself deeper inside of her, he holds her tighter to him, his body trembling with ecstasy. His eyes closed tight and he grunts louder, almost moaning," Come for me, Y/n..."

His thrusts became harsher, his grib beneath her ass leaving bruises but her moans only intensified as he comes faster and deeper into her, feeling how she clenches around him and the way his seed bursts inside her with one powerful thrust.

Silencing her last scream with his mouth, his tongue diving between her hot lips, he felt almost feverish as she when they both began to feel tired from the powerful orgasm. His thick forearms held her in the air till he slipped out of her, both of their cum dripping out in the water.

Lowering her back into his lap, she clings to him tightly, breathing heavily against his ear.

"You're incredible," he kisses her neck.

"And you're insane," she giggles softly, still out of breath," I feel like Fin will wake up after this because of us."

"Well, not my fault that my cock feels so good that you scream and beg for it more," teasing her, she only blushed but with a smile on her face.

Closing his eyes, he hugs her to him again before they go to the bed.

Not soon after there was crying heard outside and his beautiful wife pokes him in the ribs," Told you."

He rolls his eyes but chuckles," Yeah, yeah, yeah but this time you go to bed. I will take care of him, okay?"

She looks worried," But,-"

The stern look shuts her up when he kisses her temple," No, you need to rest. End of discussion."

"Fine. But come to bed after, will you? I miss your warmth," she pouts.

Kissing her one more time, Jungkook promises her," Always, Ms. Jeon. My queen.”

Since he was born, his duty was to protect Y/n and now he was glad that she has chosen him.

He will always love her and that will never change.

THE END

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

Taglist: @lepau123 @the-princess-of-mischief-1998@11thenightwemet11 @khadeeeeej @almosttoopizza@jiminismine4ever (If you want to be tagged, please message me)

🅒 All rights reserved

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He's so fine 😩😩

Excuse me…. My yunho… my love…

why are our out there making me fall in love again with you😭

THE LAST PHOTO ABOVE TOOK MY BREATHE AWAY..

Imagine … you (i mean me, the delulu) being in the crowd, watching and supporting my man… he is working but he saw you (me lol) amongst the crowd and just CANT TAKE HIS EYES AWAY FROM YOU (Still me lol). And then gave you the looks… types of stares, gazes, and fluttering of his eyelashes that tells you the he sees you and he cant wait to bee with you after the show/event.

Then after the even… we all know what will happen 👀 (just imagine)

Can anyone write a oneshot for this??? Pls?..😭

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GYAT DANN HOW IS HE SO FINE 😫🥵

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE HOW DID I MISS THIS WHEN WAS THIS AND HOW DO I CLOSE MY LEGS

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Hi! Am new to you, but do you think you could make a masterlist of your work so it’s easier to find?

Hey, anon! I’m really sorry for the confusion and for not having a masterlist up earlier. I’m new to writing and not the best at organizing things, so I had no idea how to format it. I had to check out @runariya’s profile to figure it out—she’s amazing and I love her work!

Here you go: THE MASTER LIST FOR CRIMSON SHADOWS

Summary: Detective Jungkook never expected to find his childhood crush, you, crying on his doorstep. You tell him your best friend, a pregnant woman, has died, and while everyone believes it was suicide, you're convinced it was murder. Desperate, you beg Jungkook for help.

Even though Jungkook thinks it was a suicide, he agrees to look into it for you. As he digs deeper, he discovers you were right—it was murder. Now, the killer is after you, and Jungkook has to solve the case fast to keep you safe and maybe win your heart too.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER: 1

CHAPTER: 2

CHAPTER: 3

CHAPTER: 4

CHAPTER: 5

CHAPTER: 6

CHAPTER: 7

CHAPTER: 8

CHAPTER: 9

CHAPTER: 10

CHAPTER: 11

CHAPTER: 12

Next chapters will be out soon.

I hope you enjoy my work, and thanks for your patience!

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐲 - Jeon Jungkook

ʚ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ɞ

Chapter 1: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐈𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐝?

Chapter 2: 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐨 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

Chapter 3: 𝐢𝐦𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

Chapter 4: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐲

Chapter 5: 𝐒𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥

Chapter 6: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

EPILOGUE

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When Eight Becomes Nine

This is a series that I asked about in a poll a while back, and I'm finally getting around to starting it! Like my other series, Can't Stay Away from You, I can't guarantee regular on time updates for this series, at least at the start, but I hope it will be enjoyed regardless! <3

Summary: When Ateez starts a search for a new member, y/n applies, not thinking she'd even get shortlisted. It was just a shot in the dark, but somehow the group was interested enough to want her to audition in person. Will her life change, or would she just go back to living a normal life, having failed to get a place as the ninth member of Ateez. Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Genre: Fluff and angst warnings: Stated in each chapter au: a/b/o, 9th!member Taglist: Open!

Chapter Previews

one | two | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

eleven |

Chapters

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

eleven |

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Just thought I should share some of the pics from the tour that I about LOST my mind over🫶🥳 enjoy! Last tour stop they were WILD

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🫠🫠

😏

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Seonghwa the man you are 😩🫣

I can't stand his slutty waist and his slutty attitude anymore I AM NOT SORRY

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Deja Vu

hades!seonghwa x persephone!reader / prosecutor!seonghwa x florist!reader

past life/reincarnation au

genre and warnings: a lot of fluff, lots of angst, slow burn, suggestive, swearing, violence warning

word count: 22k

synopsis: you move to the city to open a floral cafe with wooyoung but encounter seonghwa by chance and become involved with him as he investigates the biggest drug scandal in the history of wonderland. however, a number of coincidences follow and you start to question if you were meant to meet him especially when you're plagued by dreams of another life with him. as the events of the past intertwine with the present, you both struggle to keep your feelings in check.

There were a number of things you had been afraid of ever since you moved into the heart of Sector 1 to live with your friend Siyeon after spending your whole childhood with your overbearing mother at the outskirts of the town.

Some of them included the ‘basic’ fears that you shared with your mom- you’d get into an accident, get kidnapped, get in trouble, etc. The list was never ending and also unlikely to happen if you had to say.

Your own fears were more like your mom paying a surprise visit to check on you, finding Siyeon doing something weird like she was always doing and take you back home. Or, she could be visiting the city and accidentally run across you and Wooyoung while you scrooged the area for a potential place for your cafe, find Wooyoung doing some crazy shit like he was always doing, and lose her blind trust in him and take you back home. You were surrounded by the craziest people but somehow, your mother trusted you with both Siyeon and Wooyoung.

However, as you grabbed the hand of a stranger and ran for your life while gunshots sounded behind you, your first thought was, now that’s one scenario I didn’t prepare myself for. Especially when you didn’t even know why you were running.

You ran from one street into another, his hand gripping yours tightly, until you took the lead and slid into a narrow alley, hiding yourselves behind large boxes. You both waited for the sound of running footsteps to fade when you finally looked at him-

And found a very familiar face staring at you. You frowned in confusion- you had definitely seen him somewhere, but you couldn’t recall where. And he, too, frowned as if he was trying to make sense of you. You scanned his appearance- he was dressed in a suit, his dark hair matted on his forehead, eyes sharp. You licked your dry lips. “I’m sorry- do I know you?”

“If you’re wondering why I dragged you,” he said and you thought his rich deep voice sounded familiar too, “Those men were after me. They wouldn’t have cared if you had gotten in the way- they would have hurt you.”

You rested your head against the wall, trying not to groan. You were out of breath. The man asked you to wait and went to check if the area was clear. He returned looking relieved and offered you his hand which you took to get up. He took out a card. “Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I’m sorry for involving you- investigation went wrong.”

You gave him a sceptical look as you scanned the card. “Must be a dangerous case you’re working on.”

“You could say that,” he shrugged. “Are you alright? You scraped your feet- let me take a look at that.”

Before you could protest, he was down on one knee examining the long slash across your feet. It wasn’t noticeable when you were running but it ached now. You stepped back. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? It looks painful,” he bit his lips as he got up, looking guilty. 

“I didn’t even notice it before-”

“Let me accompany you to the convenience store then,” he insisted. 

“It’s not necessary,” you almost pouted but he didn’t look like he was going to back away. “Okay. I’ll accept that as an apology.”

He scoffed, urging you to follow him, watching you to check if you had a problem walking. Thankfully, you didn’t and you walked with him to the store which was a few minutes away. He made you sit inside and paid for the first aid and while you applied ointment on the wound, he made you some ramen and even got a few side dishes.

“You didn’t have to,” you smiled at the gesture. 

“I also need something in my system right now,” he sighed, sliding you the chopsticks. “I must say that I didn’t expect you to be this calm about it.”

You wondered if you could tell him that there were a number of scenarios you were more scared about, and most of them included your mother. “I’ve seen worse. Not guns,” you corrected when he raised his eyebrows at you. “But… yeah, nevermind. I guess I’m good at keeping my cool.”

“You must be, Miss…”

You told him your name and he nodded along, taking a bite of his ramen. You watched him curiously. “Is this your first time being chased like this?”

“Not really, no,” he replied. “Sadly, I’m kind of used to this now.”

“That’s a shame,” you took a bite, thinking. “I mean… what if something happens to you? Because you could have died- we could have died tonight. So if you die now, won't you have any regrets?”

He gave you a curious look and you memorised his face- he was very handsome, you noticed. You couldn’t stop staring at him and you were wondering if it was because you wanted to recall where you had seen him or because he simply was too handsome to not look at. He took a deep breath. “I would like to finish this case before I die. It’s more complicated than I thought and if I don’t get to the end of it, I’m afraid no one will.”

“That’s a work-related regret,” you pointed out in disappointment. 

“What about you?”

“Well, I also have unfinished business, quite literally,” you laughed. “I’m opening a floral cafe with my friend. I’ve been dreaming about it for like, a decade. I’d like to serve at least one customer before I die.”

“Isn’t that a work-related regret as well?”

“It’s my dream too, but I suppose you’re right,” you grinned and he joined despite himself, waiting for your answer. “I’d like to explore a bit. Live a little.”

Seonghwa could resonate with that. “I think I’d like to live a little too.”

You nodded, finishing the food. “Thank you so much for this- you really didn’t have to.”

“Consider it my apology for involving you,” he said. “Can I have your contact number? I might have to call you for a witness statement, if you’re alright with that.”

“Sure,” you took out his card and texted him on the number. “I don’t think I’ll have much to say though.”

“That’s okay, it’s just for paperwork,” he assured you and you got up, telling him you’d take a cab back home. You watched him leave first and then you slumped down on the chair as you wondered if those familiar sharp eyes were the ones you’ve been dreaming about for almost half your life.

What would that mean for you?

—------------------------

Flowers often wilted under your touch, and though your mother called it ‘wrong’, it somehow felt right.

That didn’t mean you felt excited about it. You were the goddess of spring. You were supposed to give life to flowers, not kill them.

You sat by the stream, digging your fingers under the soil. You laughed to yourself as you scanned the dead flowers around you, and you wondered what Lord Hades would think about this, because it seemed like the flowers were-

“Straight from the Underworld,” a voice sounded and you froze for a moment before you turned towards the dark figure of Hades announcing his arrival. You tried to look at his face- you could almost see it now…

“Interesting that they call you Persephone,” the King of the Underworld slid closer and then was down on one knee before you. “Why did you call me here?”

“I- I didn’t call you,” you managed to say, wanting to scoot away from him but you were captivated. “How?”

He smiled, glancing at your fingers still buried under the soil. Gently, he held your wrists and took them out, dusting your hands carefully. You tried taking your hands away. “I could hurt you.”

“No, you won’t,” he said nonchalantly before looking at you. “Have you ever hurt someone?”

“I think I have,” you found yourself saying. 

“And why would a sweet thing like you hurt someone?” He took one of the wilted flowers and tucked it behind your ear. “They probably deserved it, didn’t they?”

You were about to say something but he got up. “Go back before Demeter comes to find you. I’m not sure she’ll like this.”

“But…” you sighed, an indescribable ache in your heart. “I don’t know what to do. I feel helpless.”

“You’re not alone,” he simply said. “And if you ever feel lost, you can call for me.”

—-------------------

This wasn’t the first time you had that dream, however, this was the first time the voice sounded so familiar. 

As you got ready, pairing accessories with your pastel blue outfit, you wondered if you were closer to discovering the identity of the person you were dreaming about for so long.

Yes, it was probably a fictional story your mind had created for the sole purpose of your entertainment, where you were playing Persephone and your mother was playing Demeter. When you first started having these dreams a few years ago, though not as frequently as nowadays, you let the story play in your head until one day something occurred to you which prompted you to google the story of Persephone and Hades-

And left you gaping in surprise because it really did seem like you were legitimately seeing it from Persephone’s eyes.

You never mentioned it to anyone. You weren’t so sure you needed to- after all, there were various interpretations of the stories of the Greek gods. However, the character of Hades intrigued you a lot, and it was a shame you could never remember just who he was. Also, it didn’t help that your mother had been calling you Kore forever- she had been obsessed with Greek mythologies when you were little and read those to you as your bedtime stories. 

Perhaps these dreams were a result of hearing those dreams as a child, a trauma-

“If you’re done staring at yourself, the breakfast’s getting cold,” Siyeon popped her head in your room, snickering. “It’s only Wooyoung. Who are you getting pretty for?”

You glared at her. “Rich coming from you when we all know how big a crush you harbour-”

“Shut up and be at the table in a minute if you want me to drop you off.”

“Alright, madame,” you made a face and sighed, your mind wandering off to the familiar voice of Hades-

Your phone vibrated and you read the text from Prosecutor Park Seonghwa asking you if you were available to meet at the police station in an hour. You texted that you were and told Wooyoung that you were going to be a bit late before joining Siyeon at the table.

“Wooyoung told me you might have found a place for your cafe?” Siyeon asked and you nodded.

“We’re reviewing our options today and I hope we can finalise something,” you took a sip of coffee, sighing as you slumped back. “It’s about time we actually started running the business instead of just dreaming about it.”

“Right,” Siyeon nodded. “Your mother called me last night. Apparently you weren’t picking up?”

“Oh, I forgot to call her back,” you groaned. “What did she say?”

“Just the usual,” she grinned. “Tell y/n to stay safe, pick up her calls, stop roaming around so late at night- I don’t know how she’s gonna digest the idea of you and Wooyoung working together with actual people around you until midnight.”

“Yeah, I told her to be mentally prepared. I don’t know when she’ll understand I’m not a kid…” you sighed deeply. “Though after last night, I can kind of understand why she’s like this…”

“What happened last night?” Siyeon frowned.

You told her your story on the way to the police station where she was to drop you off. She was surprised but also momentarily got possessed by your mother as she scolded you for roaming around strange places all alone so late at night. When you arrived, the prosecutor was already waiting for you and Siyeon did a double take.

“That’s the Prosecutor that got you in trouble?”

You raised a brow. “You know him?”

Siyeon scoffed, getting out of the car and haughtily walking towards the prosecutor who looked at her and then at you, and then groaned.

“I can’t believe you almost killed my friend, Park Seonghwa.”

You gaped between the two, and he sighed deeply. “That’s an exaggeration, but good to see you too.”

“This is the Prosecutor who made my life at work hell a year ago,” she pointed and you nodded in realisation, stifling your smile- you had only heard bad things about him. 

“But we became friends over a few drinks, didn’t we, Siyeon? Or are you going to forget how I helped you out and saved your sorry ass?”

“I’m sure he was just doing his job,” you patted Siyeon’s arm. “You should go now- stop giving him that look.”

Siyeon glared at Seonghwa before saying bye and you gave the man a sorry look. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long, Prosecutor Park.” 

“Just call me Seonghwa. I’m sorry I had to call you. I would have dealt with it, but…” he sighed. “The police here don’t really like me.”

You looked at him in confusion and he led you inside. The officer in charge of the case made you both wait 10 minutes just because he was going through his phone (judging by the smile on his face, you were pretty sure he was talking to his partner), and though you both had stayed silent while you waited, you decided to break the ice. 

“Looks like you have some beef with him,” you commented.

“I don’t have beef with him,” Seonghwa laughed, caught off-guard by your comment and it made you stifle a grin. “We’ve just not had the chance to meet on good terms.”

“Same difference,” you muttered. 

Before he could retort, the officer finally looked up from his phone and gave you two a tired look, fixing his gaze on Seonghwa. “Prosecutor Park… ever so busy, eh? Still going after the elites just because they seem to be having fun? Still called the Underworld’s Grim Reaper?”

You blinked at the nickname and then it dawned on you why his voice sounded so familiar-

It was the same voice you had been hearing in your dreams.

“Officer Lee… I see you haven’t changed. I thought you got promoted after you rattled on about me to the superiors, but… too bad.”

The officer gruntled at that and you pursed your lips, looking back and forth between the two. Before they could make another jab, you cleared your throat and raised your hand awkwardly. “I’m here.”

Officer Lee passed you a page. “Fill this up and then answer my questions.”

You filled the page with your private information and then the officer asked you to narrate the events. By the end of it, he was tsk-ing at Seonghwa. “Now you’re troubling innocent civilians too. Do you have to go so far? Don’t you remember the last time you got a civilian involved-”

“You don’t have to worry about her inconvenience,” Seonghwa countered. “She’s a… friend.”

You raised a brow at that but decided to play along- it looked like the officer really wanted to get to him and you wondered just what had happened between the two. 

“Well, you’re free to go then,” he said after he asked you to narrate the event and you got up, bowing and waiting for Seonghwa who was still glaring at the man and then he exhaled deeply, getting up and going ahead without waiting for you. You followed him outside, watching him stop and run a hand through his hair, almost in frustration.

“You okay?” You asked cautiously. 

“Yeah. I’m good,” he nodded after a moment, scanning you- you suddenly felt like a child out of place in your pastel outfit. “Do you need me to drop you off?”

“No, it’s okay, I’m meeting a friend at the intersection,” you told him. “I’ll walk.”

“I’m passing by, so get in,” he motioned to the car and went ahead before you could refuse his offer, making you shrug and follow.

“Sorry for today,” Seonghwa said after a minute as he drove. “I won’t bother you again.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind,” you told him.

“I’m sorry for that day too,” he continued. “I could have gotten you killed, like Siyeon said.”

“It’s okay, it was just a big coincidence,” you shrugged and he glanced at you. “I’m just glad we’re both unhurt.”

Seonghwa raised a brow at your candidness. “Have you always lived in Sector 1?”

“I lived near the Sector 2 border- the town with the hills,” you told him. “I commuted for college and moved here not too long ago.”

“Is that where you met Siyeon too?”

“No, we’re school friends,” you smiled. “She also lived there back then.”

“Ah, I see.” A ghost of a smile lingered at Seonghwa’s face and you watched him, intrigued. “I don’t think Siyeon ever mentioned you but… we weren’t best friends either.”

“Siyeon never mentioned you either, I think- not directly. She did mention some jerk making it hard at work, but,” you laughed and he joined. “That’s about it.”

You spotted the intersection and told him to drop you off there. He offered to wait with you until your friend arrived, but you insisted that it was fine. Seonghwa did look at you a moment too long before he sighed. “I guess this is goodbye then. We probably won’t be seeing each other again.”

You scanned him, his sharp eyes just as familiar as his voice. You wondered if the ache in your heart meant anything. “Let’s hope if we do meet each other again, it’s when we’re not running for our lives or going to a police station.”

Seonghwa smiled at that and you watched his face transform into pure warmth, his eyes sparkling. “Sounds good.”

You watched him leave, wondering just what his deal was. He seemed to be dealing with a lot and you made a mental note to ask Siyeon just what exactly the officer meant by him being the Underworld’s Grim Reaper. At the sound of a horn, you turned to Wooyoung sticking out his neck and waving at you and you immediately got in the front seat.

“Did I keep you for long?” He patted your arm as a greeting before he drove off.

“Not at all,” you told him. “I hope you’re in full spirits because we’ve had enough of scouring potential buildings for our cafe. We need to decide today, Wooyoung. Don’t be a sloth.”

“Okay, okay,” he nodded his head furiously, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “I have a feeling that today is a lucky day.”

Today was indeed lucky. By the late evening, you went through your top 5 picks and decided on a spot to open your cafe- it wasn’t in the hotspot of the city but quite near it, and you were very satisfied by its architectural design which allowed you to make the most of the ‘floral’ part of the cafe. Wooyoung had no problem with it either, so you signed the deal and shook hands with him.

“I can’t believe we managed to do this today- I thought we were bluffing!”

“When I put my mind to something, I do it, y/n,” he simply stated. “Now let’s go for dinner- I’ll call the boys and you can call Siyeon- I hope some of them can make it. I need to introduce you to my other friends too.”

“Yeah, you know how hard it was for me to come back here when college was over,” you sighed. “And your ‘other friends’ are always too busy.”

“We should plan a proper party, though, what do you say?” Wooyoung asked. “We’ll treat them and then force them to help us.”

“That… sounds pretty good actually,” you grinned at him and he grinned back, bumping his fist with you as you both plotted the demise of your friends and how to exploit their services. 

With that, you and Wooyoung arranged a welcome party at a restaurant near your cafe on the weekend so you could have dinner first and visit the venue later. You invited Siyeon, which you started regretting when she decided she was in charge of dressing you up for the night, and you ended up in all black, with your hair and makeup more edgier than usual- she insisted you needed to look like you had your shit together and could tolerate doing business with Wooyoung which was no small feat. She still couldn’t believe how Wooyoung, who was the loudest and most blunt and outgoing person she knew, could be friends with you who was timid and always fidgeting with her words.

“But you can shut Wooyoung up, so I guess that counts for something.”

“I can shut you up too,” you countered. Siyeon snickered at that but didn’t deny it- you may have grown up sheltered and were just learning about real life and its responsibilities now, but Siyeon knew there was an undeniable fire within you. 

“But I don’t blab as much as him,” Siyeon pouted.

“Gosh, just tell Wooyoung that you like him, you’re so corny,” you threw your makeup sponge at her as she turned to hide her face after making that comment.

“I don’t like him,” she looked baffled. “He’s too much.”

However, as you entered the restaurant, you watched how Siyeon’s eyes darted immediately to Wooyoung and you rolled your eyes, greeting the rest of his friends- Yunho, Mingi and someone you hadn’t seen before. Yunho and Mingi you knew from college and met with them often.

“This is the famous Kim Hongjoong who is very hard to reach,” Wooyoung pointed and Hongjoong laughed in embarrassment. “You two better get along. We’re still missing one, but he’ll be here soon- he said we could start dinner without him.”

“Oh, we could wait?” You asked but Wooyoung told you it was okay, and you sat across Hongjoong, learning that he was a famous composer and Wooyoung told you that he was producing a soundtrack for your cafe as a gift too, which you really appreciated.

“Once I see what the vibe is, I’ll come up with something,” Hongjoong promised.

“No way, aren’t you asking too much from him, Wooyoung?” You looked around in disbelief and everyone laughed.

“It’s the least I can do-”

“It’s the least he can do,” Wooyoung announced and you laughed harder, Hongjoong promising to mess up the track if Wooyoung annoyed him too much and you enjoyed the bickering as you finished dinner and you all decided to walk to the cafe. You fell behind the group, watching them laugh over something and you smiled to yourself, glad you had such good people in your life-

You turned to your right and spotted none other than Seonghwa, dressed in a suit, probably coming straight from work, holding a big wrapped box. You met eyes with him and he stopped in his tracks when he saw you with the rest of his friends.

While you both stood gaping at each other, you suddenly had a flashback of the recent dream you had-

“I wish you weren’t so afraid, Persephone,” Hades crawled behind you, letting his fingers run down your sleeves and catch your trembling fingers- somehow, his touch comforted you more than anything else in this world.

“I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,” your voice wasn’t even and you looked down, watching his fingers interlock with yours as he rested his face next to your head. “I’m supposed to be the goddess of spring but all I seem to do these days is destroy.”

“And who said you were only the goddess of spring?” Hades' voice held a hint of playfulness. “You can be more than one thing.”

“Could I?” You smiled, embarrassed, moving away from him. Perhaps, he was trying to make you feel better. “I’m not even good at one thing.”

“You think we’re good at what we do?” Hades went to sit by the tree in front of you. “I can barely handle the Underworld these days.”

You sat near him, gazing at him out of curiosity. “What is the Underworld like?”

“Would you like to see?” Hades leaned in and for a moment, just for the shortest moment, your heart was gripped by the fear of your mother finding out who you’ve been hanging out with lately. 

“I don’t think I should leave the mortal realm,” you pouted. “Mother would instantly know I’m gone.”

“You don’t have to leave to see it,” Hades was smirking. “I can show you- close your eyes.”

You did and you felt his fingers on your forehead- and then you were suddenly shivering with cold, couldn’t see anything except darkness- until you realised you could actually see and it was just incredibly dark.

“This is the Underworld,” Hades said. “Where I live. A city down there. We have rivers too, but I’m not sure you’d like them.”

“How can I see this?”

“This is just my memory,” Hades said, drawing his fingers away and you opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times.

“It’s so cold there,” you tilted your head, grabbing his hand without a second thought. “You’re always cold.”

Hades frowned- could you actually feel the place from his memory alone? “I’ve clearly underestimated your powers, it seems.”

“I know just what that place needs,” you smiled, ignoring his remark- you tended to ignore anyone who talked about your powers. You watched Hades’ brow rise in confusion. 

“It needs a touch of spring.”

Wooyoung all but attacked Seonghwa with a hug that had him grimacing, going on about how he made it just on time but it was a pity that he had to miss dinner. When Wooyoung was about to introduce you two, you looked at Siyeon who muttered, “What a big fucking coincidence.”

You giggled at that, and Wooyoung looked between you and Siyeon. “Why does it look like you already know him?”

“That’s because she does, you idiot,” Siyeon slapped Wooyoung’s arm. “You should have told me he was coming. You know I have beef with him.”

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t,” Wooyoung looked proud and Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “I’m aware Siyeon and Seonghwa know each other from work, but how do you know him?”

“Uh… it’s a long story,” you shrugged, looking at Seonghwa for help.

“She was a witness in a case I’m working,” was Seonghwa’s short explanation and you nodded eagerly, hoping he wouldn’t ask more. Wooyoung didn’t, just dragged Seonghwa to the front and he greeted the rest.

“They’re old friends, huh?” You let out a short laugh, looking at Siyeon who looked both annoyed and curious. “Sure is a small world we live in.”

You reached the cafe and Wooyoung called you to the front, putting an arm around you. “This is us.”

“You sound like a married couple who just bought a house,” Mingi laughed.

“Might as well be,” Wooyoung scoffed. “Come in, let’s show you around.”

Wooyoung did most of the talking while you added in the details, showing them the main sitting area and a few private corners for people who would want to work in peace while having a break. The kitchen was huge and well-equipped as well, and upstairs, there was a terrace that you would be utilising for the customers as well, with two separate rooms that would be your offices. 

“We really won in the luck department with this one,” you finished showing them around, taking a seat with the rest on the terrace where Wooyoung opened the bottle of wine Seonghwa had brought as a gift. “I never thought I’d have a room here as well. I could practically live here.”

“That wouldn’t be very safe,” Seonghwa said.

“I know, but on the days when I’m too tired to go home, I could take a little nap here,” you shrugged. 

“Now that we’re all present and I’m pouring you all wine to commence the beginning,” Wooyoung finally began the speech you were expecting and you stifled your laugh. “I better see each one of your ass working with us.”

Hongjoong stopped in the middle of drinking. “Working how exactly?”

“Help us move!” Wooyoung slumped down. “Help us bring this place to life! With only the two of us, it’s going to take forever, especially with y/n’s clumsy ass-”

“I’m not the one who fell on her face because I was too busy looking upwards when I walked,” you muttered, referring to moments ago when Wooyoung tripped on empty boxes while he was walking, making everyone laugh out loud.

“Not the point!” Wooyoung glared at you and you glared back. “Anyways, all of you better be present here.”

“You’re only going to order us around and do absolutely nothing!” Mingi pointed his finger at him. “I still remember when I thought it was a good idea to move in with you.”

“I could help, but I expect something in return,” Yunho said and Siyeon clapped at that.

“My point exactly.”

“You owe me one in case you forgot, Yunho,” Wooyoung pointed his finger at him and Yunho grinned. “As for Siyeon… she could get a special discount.”

That fueled an argument on why he didn’t offer the ‘special’ discount to anyone else and Siyeon announced she didn’t need anything from Wooyoung, which made you elbow her. 

“We’re all busy and have a life, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa finally said and the boys clapped enthusiastically at that. “But… I’ll come around if I have some free time. And the rest of you should as well- otherwise don’t expect them to treat you any differently from the rest of their customers.”

You both were satisfied to hear that while the rest groaned, making promises to come and help, teasing each other. You opened a bag of chips and offered some to Seonghwa who was sitting near you.

“Funny seeing you here tonight,” he said as he took a few. “I didn’t recognise you for a moment. You look different.”

“That’s all Siyeon,” you touched your hair consciously, tucking behind your ears. “I thought you were just passing by. Seems like we have quite a few people in common.”

“Seems so,” he smiled. “Wooyoung always talks about you, I just never made the connection.”

“Really?” you laughed, looking at him who was still accusing his friends of being lazy. “He does talk a lot in general. He may have mentioned having a busy old friend- two of them. I met Hongjoong for the first time today.”

“He’s my oldest friend,” Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and you watched his gaze turn soft. “He’s also the busiest, so don’t expect to see him helping around more than once. He uses any free time for a nap.”

“I see,” you turned towards Seonghwa, resting your face on your hand, elbow propped on your leg. “And will I be seeing you more than once?”

Seonghwa’s breath caught at the way you looked, with hair shining brightly under the moonlight, eyes tired but full of life. He mirrored your position, a faint smirk on his face. “Maybe you will.”

That night, Seonghwa woke up feeling like a bucket of cold water had been splashed over him though sweat laced his forehead. He checked the time- it was 03.47 am. He went to the kitchen to drink some water and recalled the dream he had seen-

It was you. He had dreamt about you, but… it wasn’t exactly the person he knew. And he had called you Persephone. You had been sitting by a lake, eyes wide and helpless, and he had touched your face and said-

“If I could… I would make you the Queen of the Underworld.”

Seonghwa sighed deeply- was he thinking too much about you? He had been busy with his work, and recently, he’d seen a lot of you, which was perhaps why he was having recurring dreams about you where he called you Persephone, which made him Hades-

King of the Underworld.

Or maybe he took his nickname way too seriously. Seonghwa shook his head- the dreams were causing him to be restless in his sleep. Maybe he just needed to relax a bit but… his recent case had him spiralling into darker territories, and he wondered if he could even get to sleep anymore.

—--------------------------

The last few days were the busiest. You spent most of your time in the cafe and the boys occasionally dropped by to help you out, though you noticed having company meant you also slacked off as you got distracted elsewhere, but things were looking good so far. You and Wooyoung were done setting up your office rooms so you could focus on the rest.

Today, you were back to the last bit of scraping. You arrived late, having slept in since it was Sunday and you found Wooyoung taking a nap on the couch in his office. You didn’t wake him up, deciding to put on some light instrumental music while you scraped and got lost in your thoughts.

These days, your thoughts mostly drifted to the recurring dreams you were having- they were almost like flashbacks of a memory, of a… past life. But you didn’t believe in past lives.

Maybe you should, you wondered to yourself as you shifted to one leg, lazily scraping. But even if you did believe in past lives, did you believe in Hades and Persephone? Even if you did, why would they look exactly like you, Seonghwa and the other people in your life? Why would they be speaking your language?

Maybe they speak your language for you, you found yourself thinking. You recalled having a dream in Japanese a while ago when you barely knew two phrases. Dreams were supposed to be weird, you told yourself. But were they supposed to be playing out like a story of someone’s life?

Your train of thought was broken when you heard someone clear their throat behind you and you realised you hadn’t been scraping at all for a while now. You put on a smile in an attempt to seem normal before turning to greet-

Seonghwa. He had a way of appearing exactly when you were thinking of him.

“Hi,” he waved awkwardly, dressed in something other than black for once. The denim quite suited him.

“H-hi, I wasn’t expecting you- or anyone, for that matter,” you managed to say, recovering from the initial shock. “Uh, please have a seat?”

Seonghwa looked around in amusement at the absence of any seats. “Where’s Wooyoung?”

“He’s taking a nap,” you told him, fumbling to empty the nearest stool. “I just came and decided to let him sleep.”

“Good idea, it would be way too loud with him,” he laughed, asking you to stop. “I’m not here to relax. I’m here to help you out, so tell me what to do.”

“Really?” You smiled, suddenly conscious of the dirty apron you were wearing- it had everything from dust to paint on there. “Well… you could scrape this part and I could start on the next?”

“Sounds good,” he scanned you. “Do I get an apron too?”

“Oh, yes,” you said, laughing. “We have a spare for this purpose.” 

You went to the box near you, digging out the apron and handing it to him. He wore it and got to work immediately and you watched him for a moment before resuming your own. “You didn’t actually need to help out- I’ve heard how busy you are with your recent case, and from what I’ve seen… it’s hectic.”

“Come on, even Hongjoong stopped by,” he laughed a bit, looking at you. “Or is it that you didn’t want to see me?”

“Now why would you think that,” you pouted, surprised at how playful he sounded despite the serious expression on his face. “I just thought you’d be tired- your job is demanding.”

“It wasn’t always like this,” Seonghwa glanced at you as he said, “I got myself into this mess, and now I can’t get out until I win or admit defeat.”

You put a hand on your hip as you scraped. “Admitting defeat sounds dangerous.”

“It is,” he sighed. “I’m not ready to give up yet.”

You turned to him but then paused, resuming your work- it seemed to be easier to talk when you were both busy and not looking at each other. “Just what have you involved yourself in, Seonghwa? I don’t think we’ve addressed the fact that you’re in constant danger.”

Seonghwa sighed deeply and it looked like he was actually considering telling you. “I can’t really talk about it- the less you know, the safer you are.”

“Well, maybe I don’t love being so safe,” you said, surprised at how you voiced that so boldly, making even Seonghwa stop and turn to look at you. You matched his gaze.

“Sometimes I wonder who you are,” he said, and you felt like he meant more by it. “Why were you so calm that day? And why are you willing to involve yourself in something dangerous?”

You shrugged, going back to scraping, ignoring the loud thump of your heart between your ears. You could still feel his gaze on your back. Thankfully, Wooyoung interrupted and you got a call right at that moment, going into another room to talk to your mother who told you she would be paying a visit-

Right now.

You got out of the room, waving your hand wildly at Wooyoung who moved closer to hear your conversation while Seonghwa watched awkwardly.

“But mom… I’m literally scraping- it’s an ugly sight. You should just go to my apartment and I’ll arrive right after you-”

“I’m near the cafe, Kore,” she said and Wooyoung sagged down to the ground. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” you hung up and kicked Wooyoung’s thigh lightly. “Get up. We’ve got to make this look presentable.”

“Your mother’s coming, what’s the big deal?” Seonghwa finally dared to ask and then regretted it when you two glared at him.

“She’s a monster, for starters-”

“She’s my mother, asshole,” you slapped Wooyoung’s arm. “And what’s your problem? She loves you!”

“She only pretends to!” Wooyoung shouted. “She threatened to hang me upside down on the ceiling if I tried anything funny with you!”

“Let’s just get to work,” you clapped, sliding all the stuff lying in the middle of the room to the corners. Just two minutes later, you heard the sound of the door opening.

“Seonghwa’s still here,” Wooyoung pointed out. “Should I say he is my friend?”

“He is your friend, Wooyoung, please wake up,” you almost cried and Seonghwa snorted. “If you’re going to say something stupid, you better just shut up- hi, mom!” You went to hug her, Wooyoung following with a smile.

“You look well,” she commented. “But there are dark circles under your eyes.”

“Those are proof that I’ve been working hard,” you smiled and she laughed at that, handing you the bouquet of fresh flowers that she brought from home- your favourites. You sniffed them deeply, sighing happily before setting them on the table.

“And this is?” 

“My old friend, Park Seonghwa,” Wooyoung introduced and Seonghwa bowed. “He came to help us out.”

Your mother gave you a look before she sat down. “I won’t be here for long- I came to visit a friend and thought I’d drop by and see what’s up. Would you excuse us, boys? It’s good to see you, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung saluted, dragging Seonghwa to another room- or at least, pretending to. You just knew he would be loitering right outside the room, and chances were that Seonghwa would be too. You turned your attention to your mother. “You could have told me earlier. I would have arranged for dinner or something-”

“There’s no need,” she shook her head, looking around. “The cafe looks nice. Are you sure you need to stay and work with Wooyoung? You’ll only be dealing with flowers- you could do that from home-”

“Wooyoung is only going to be cooking, I’ll be handling everything else,” you reminded her. “We cannot work without each other.”

“It’s pretty late though- when do you even go back?” She checked her watch. “Here, all alone-”

“I’m going to be alone most days,” you straightened up- somehow, you found it easier to challenge your mother when you met her after some time apart. “Besides, there’s always company.”

She frowned at that. “Do you know that boy?”

“Wooyoung introduced us not long ago. He’s one of his old friends, like Yunho and Mingi.”

“I don’t like this, Kore,” she sighed and you groaned.

“You never like anything I do,” you said. “I’m not little anymore. I’m making my own decisions. Please give me space to breathe.”

“Do I suffocate you?” She raised a brow.

“Honestly? Sometimes, yes. I love you but you do that.”

Your mother didn’t look too hurt to hear that, which didn’t give you much satisfaction either. She got up, taking her purse. “I’ll be back when you finally open the cafe.”

“Sure, you have to make it to the opening. And please arrange for the flowers- I’ll send you a list soon, okay?”

She patted your cheek and left, and you finally felt yourself relax. You heard the sound of footsteps. “Damn. That was intense.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, looking at Seonghwa who told you that you looked pale and before you could protest, he poured you water and slid the glass. 

“Can I ask you something?” He asked and you nodded, glancing at Wooyoung who was peeking out of the window to make sure your mother was actually gone. “Why did she call you Kore?”

“It’s a nickname- she started calling me that when I was little. It’s something to do with Greek mythology-”

“I’ve heard,” Seonghwa nodded, accidentally brushing your hand as he took the glass from you and said, “Persephone.”

A stabbing pain in your head made you wince. “Sorry, what?”

“That’s what Demeter called her daughter, right?” he said and you nodded absently.

“Have you always known that?” 

“What?”

“That Demeter called Persephone Kore?” You asked, your voice small.

“Does it matter?” He asked and you thought that was a weird answer. Before you could probe, he went to Wooyoung, leaving you wondering why he didn’t simply answer that.

—--------------------

A few days later, Seonghwa found himself standing outside your cafe in the middle of the night.

There were a number of things that brought him here. The illegal drugs case he was investigating had taken a dangerous turn since the past few months, which meant he was being assaulted and blackmailed. His place had been ransacked, evidence stolen, and he found himself growing anxious with every passing day. But then, it involved the top class of Sector 1 notoriously known as the Underworld, and if he exposed the individuals involved, he was positive the citizens of Wonderland would lose trust in their government and officials.

He had told no one yet, and he wasn’t planning to, but now he was wondering if he could go on like this. He was being backed up by Mr. Ahn, the director of a leading pharmaceutical company, but he wasn’t sure he could trust him with the details- at least not fully. But he was powerful, and he had connections, which was how he had gotten so far and earned his nickname- Underworld’s Grim Reaper. 

He didn’t know how long he had been staring at the terrace until you appeared and noticed him, waving at him and motioning him to come inside. He sighed deeply- there was another reason he was here. 

He now knew why you seemed so familiar, why your voice shook him to the core the first time he heard you.

He had seen you in his dreams before he ever saw you.

He was positive about that- it sounded insane even to himself, but he was so sure, and it made absolutely no sense. But then he saw your mother the other day- he recognised her instantly from his dreams since she had a memorable face. And then, to top it off, she called you Kore. 

There was no way, he had thought at that time, but then… he wondered if somehow, you knew as well.

But he couldn’t ask you that, he thought as he went upstairs after looking around for Wooyoung. He couldn’t ask you like this. Not when it made no sense to him. Not when he wasn’t ready for the answer.

“Is Wooyoung not here?” 

“He went home a while ago,” you said, sipping from your coffee cup. “What brings you here at this hour- not for helping around, right?”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, taking a seat. “It’s a long story.”

You smiled, “I have some extra brewed coffee anyway. I think it was meant for you.”

When he had finally gotten a bit of coffee in his system, Seonghwa sighed for what had to be the tenth time. You were fidgeting with nervousness and anticipation now- it looked like he was going to tell you something big. “Come on- you look like you’re about to announce your divorce or something.”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, slumping back. “There’s a lot weighing on my mind, and I can’t really tell anyone.”

“I’m a good listener, and an even good secret keeper,” you told him.

“I don’t doubt that,” he laughed. “It’s just… it might be dangerous to share it with someone.”

“Is it about your case?” You asked and he gave you a look.

“You’re quick. Yes, it’s about my case- the same one that got me here with you right now.”

“Well, then I have a question for you,” you leaned forward, loving the challenge he was giving you. “Do you believe in coincidences?”

“I didn’t,” he thought about it, wondering if every meeting with you was just a plain big series of coincidences. “But now I’m wondering if I was wrong.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe everything happens for a reason. We encountered each other that day, perhaps, because you were meant to sit here right now-”

“Perhaps because we were meant to be-” Seonghwa glanced at you and you raised a brow. “Meant to meet,” he corrected. “That’s what you mean, right?”

“It’s up to you,” you relaxed back. “I don’t want to force you.”

Seonghwa wondered if he could tell you that he found you easy to talk to- in the past few days, he had visited a good few times. He got to learn little things about you and found himself drawn to you. “I’m only hesitating because it’s dangerous to know more than you should. Otherwise, I really like you. I really like talking to you.”

You nodded. “You know that I’ve lived a sheltered life with an overbearing mother, but Seonghwa… I’ve seen my fair share of horrors. I’m not easily rattled, not anymore.”

Seonghwa let that sink in- he always wondered where you got that edge from. He wasn’t sure he could ask. “The case I’m investigating is actually a case involving the top class of Sector 1- politicians, high ranking officials, influencers, you name it. They’re illegally trading drugs among themselves. They buy anyone with power and money.”

“Go on,” you urged.

Seonghwa shifted in his seat. “I’m being backed by Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceuticals. He’s providing me with manpower and connections, but… I’m afraid I’ll have to investigate him at one point too. I’m not sure who’s constantly threatening me- the people I’m investigating or the one who hired me, telling me to stay in my place.”

You whistled. “A double-edged sword?”

“Yeah,” he let out a nervous laugh. “So I’m wondering how I can keep track of my progress, where I can store evidence and important documents. My apartment’s been ransacked twice now. They also stole from me in broad daylight.”

“Hmm… No one would suspect you coming to the cafe to drink some coffee and meet your old friend, right?” You asked and Seonghwa shrugged. “You could use my office.”

“I… When I said that, I didn’t mean that you should give me a space-”

“No, think about it,” you ignored his protests. “Me and Wooyoung are already practically living here. I can give you the spare key to my office- you can come and go as you please and store whatever you need to. I won’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, I guess that could work.”

“And I know it’s too late to say this, but you should have backed out of this case when you first had the thought,” you said and he laughed in defeat. “It’s dangerous to back out now, isn’t it?”

“Very,” he confirmed. “But I don’t want to back out now either.”

You smirked at that. “Too late. Anyways, I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me.”

“I know I can,” he found himself saying.

“Why?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s something about your eyes.”

“It’s something about your eyes,” Hades tucked your hair behind. “I feel like I could trust you with my life.”

“But what if someone finds out because of me?” You looked down at your fingers, green with all the flower plucking Demeter had made you do as a punishment for being seen in public with Hades.

“Then I would know that it’s not your fault but mine,” Hades smiled sadly. “Because I got you involved.”

“What if someone finds out because of me?” You found yourself saying, feeling intense deja vu and you tried to gulp the feelings down.

However, Seonghwa had sucked his breath sharply as he heard that too. He watched you for a few moments before he said, “Then I would know that it’s not your fault but mine. Because I’m the one who got you involved.”

You accidentally dropped the pencil you had been fiddling with, leaning down to pick it up and gathering yourself in that moment. You cleared your throat. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Yeah…” Seonghwa shook his head, breaking the trance he was in. “I should go now- I’ll come by tomorrow with some stuff. Should I drop you off too?”

“There’s no need, I’ll get a taxi-”

“At this hour? I think not,” he poked your arm, urging you to move and you pouted as you picked your stuff. You told him the location- it was 10 minutes from the cafe. The ride was mostly silent as you both sorted your thoughts out. When you reached your apartment, you unbuckled the belt, halting when Seonghwa cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything. We just met recently, but… I’m glad I can trust you.”

You smiled. “Well then, we can work on that until you’re able to call me a friend.”

“You are,” Seonghwa laughed. “You know what I mean. Thank you, y/n. For everything.”

“It’s okay,” you nodded. “Just… stay safe, Seonghwa. It sounds dangerous and I really don’t like that you’re being chased around. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

It was a simple enough thing to say but it pulled at his heartstrings in the most unexpected way and he found himself tucking your hair behind your ear- he couldn’t help it- he had done that so many times in his dreams. However, he hadn’t expected you to basically stop breathing, and he realised his breath caught at the way you were looking at him too.

How were you so familiar yet so distant?

He patted your shoulder, nodding awkwardly. “I’ll try. Being safe, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you finally breathed. “Goodnight… Seonghwa.”

With that, you went upstairs to your apartment, glad Siyeon was sleeping because all you wanted to do was sink down in your bed and think of the way he had just tucked your hair-

Like he had done so a million times before.

Perhaps he had.

—--------------------

Seonghwa found himself coming to the cafe every other day, but he felt a bit guilty that he had to text you and ask the whereabouts of Wooyoung. He told himself that he was protecting his friend and that made him feel guilty because he might be putting you in danger, but you always assured him that it was okay.

It was an easy routine now- Wooyoung usually went home around 10 at night, which was when Seonghwa would drop by and sit in your office and do his work in silence. On the days when you were present, you would quietly come in and place some coffee and snacks on the desk. He didn’t hide anything from you but you didn’t want to intrude so you’d just leave and do something productive, finding it easier to get busy.

Tonight was one of those nights too. You had asked Wooyoung to take care of the other things while you did the painting, which was why he was out and about during the day, buying whatever you needed- you’d join him when it concerned you but since he was taking care of the kitchen, he was busier. You just needed to get the painting done so you could finally decorate and get the flower business started.

You began to think of the flowers back at home, of home, of your mother, of the house that almost felt like a prison and in several ways was, of the feelings of suffocation that still lingered-

You heard someone clear their throat and you looked up to see Seonghwa lingering in the doorway, passing you a tight-lipped smile and you looked down- you had been picking at your fingers- had he seen that? You got up and brushed your clothes.

“What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you had an extra marker,” Seonghwa said after a moment. “I couldn’t find it where you usually keep your stationery.”

“Ah, we must have run out- there might be one in the kitchen though, let me look for it.”

“It’s okay, I’ll look for it-”

“You’ll never be able to navigate through Wooyoung’s mess there,” you laughed and he grinned, finally relaxing. “I’ll be back.”

You went to the kitchen and after a few minutes, you were able to find a marker in one of the drawers. You went to your office and knocked at the already open door and Seonghwa urged you to come in. You noticed how he had pasted a few pictures and notes on your board, making a mind-map.

“Wow, that’s a lot,” you commented. “I hope it’s not so hard… what’s going on here?”

Seonghwa chuckled, pointing at the picture of a middle-aged man. “That’s Dr. Kwon of Wonderland Hospital Sector 1. That’s where the investigation began- apparently, Mr. Ahn got suspicious when Dr. Kwon stopped his business with KQ Pharmaceuticals, and Mr. Ahn wondered if he’s not buying from the best pharmaceutical company in Wonderland, who’s sponsoring him?”

“Ah, business rivalry at first, huh?” You said and he nodded. “So he started doing some digging?”

“Yeah, and he noticed that there was one specific drug that’s used for anaesthetic purposes that he wasn’t buying from any of the well-known companies. He has his ears everywhere, and he was quick to make a connection- that drug that the top class of Wonderland smokes, they call it ‘Mist’- it’s the same they’re using as anaesthesia in the hospital.”

“Oh,” you wowed, taking a moment to let that sink in. “That’s… intense.”

Seonghwa stifled his smile. “Now he just wants me to take down as many people involved as possible.”

“Why you?” You were curious.

“I’m called the Underworld’s Grim Reaper for a reason,” he smirked. “I won a big case a year ago too- probably caught Mr. Ahn’s attention.”

“It’s suspicious, though,” you went through his notes, looking at the pictures and frowning at a familiar face. “That he isn’t putting himself in the spotlight. Also, how is he involved?”

“You know him?” Seonghwa glanced at the picture you were holding. “That’s Mr. Jang, right?”

“From the Wonderland Art Museum, yes,” you confirmed. “He’s an acquaintance of my mother- we deliver flowers to him regularly. Is he involved in…”

“It seems so, but it’s only a suspicion right now,” Seonghwa sighed. “There’s no evidence of transactions- after all, the drug must cost something. I’m wondering if it’s not in the form of cash- which is why I’ll have to look into Mr. Jang’s paintings and who the real owners of those paintings are.”

You were still going through the pictures as you listened when you found a picture of a flower. “And what has this rare flower got to do with it?”

Seonghwa looked surprised. “You recognise this flower?”

“Of course I do. I’m a florist, Seonghwa,” you rolled your eyes.

“What do you know about this flower?”

“It’s one of the rarest flowers. It’s called the Middlemist Blue- wait,” you looked at the flower and then back at him. “This is the source of the drug?”

“Yes,” Seonghwa took the picture from you. “Where have you seen it?”

In my mother’s greenhouse.

“It’s very rare,” you attempted to sound normal but you were sure Seonghwa caught on. You sighed, taking a seat. “My mother found one a few years ago and since then, she’s been taking care of it and trying to reproduce it.”

“And was she successful?” Seonghwa dared to ask.

“Not that I’m aware of,” you shook your head, looking at him- for once, you felt scared. “Do you think she might be involved?”

“I can’t say- she isn’t the only one with that flower, though. There’s someone in Sector 8 who grows them too,” he said and you found yourself sighing in relief. “But… you understand that I’ll have to investigate her, right?”

You thought for a few moments- was this a big coincidence? Your mother did deliver flowers to Mr. Jang for display in his museum. What if she provided him with the Middlemist Blue as well? What if Mr. Jang really was involved in the Underworld’s drug dealing?

Seonghwa took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and caressing it. “You don’t have to think of the worst, y/n. I don’t think a mother who loves her daughter so much would do something that could harm her. The world doesn’t know that the Middlemist Blue can be used as a drug- that could mean that your mother is unaware. After all, she’s a florist, not a pharmacist, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” you took a deep breath. “But… Can you do me a favour and let me find out? With you?”

“It’s too dangerous-”

“Please,” you put a hand on his. “If it involves my mother… you understand why I have to, right? I could also help you with Mr. Jang’s involvement. We could do this together.”

Seonghwa thought about it. “You’re not doing anything on your own, okay? Don’t pull a move and make everyone around you suspicious.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I also don’t want you to confront your mother until I’m sure she’s the one supplying whoever’s involved. She could simply be keeping a rare flower safe.”

“Yes, sir.”

Seonghwa chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, making your smile change into surprise. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You understood what he meant. “I know you’ll keep me safe.”

There it was again- another conversation he was sure he’d had with you. He patted your cheek. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

You nodded, finding yourself unable to draw away from him, and perhaps the spirit of Persephone possessed you for a moment as you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, making his eyes go wide in surprise. “Thank you for believing in me, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa scanned your face, wanting to kiss you back but it took everything in him to simply smile and stand up to leave. He needed to clear his head, but most of all-

He needed to figure out just why he had been dreaming about you, and why the events of his dreams were playing out in the present.

—----------------------

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Seonghwa muttered as he pulled his cap further down and you groaned inwardly, taking it off and ruffling his hair, making him stop in his tracks. “What are you doing?”

“You’re looking too suspicious, Seonghwa,” you shook your head. “The mask and glasses are enough. You’re not a celebrity.”

“Might as well be,” he countered, pulling your hand and bringing you to the side when a bike passed by. “You should have disguised yourself too. My plan was better.”

“Mine is better, you’ll see,” you smiled at him and he thought you glowed in the sun. “Just a couple interested in art. What’s suspicious about that?”

It was a very basic plan- you wanted to go and check out the Wonderland Art Museum and see just how much your mother was involved- you were going to introduce yourself to Mr. Jang and you were bringing your ‘boyfriend’ with you. Seonghwa agreed to it because you insisted that you needed to learn just what your mother’s role was before he began investigating her, and for another reason-

Because you wanted to go out with Seonghwa, though you’ll never admit it out loud.

Interestingly, Seonghwa didn’t suggest someone else take his place or you go alone- it wasn’t uncommon to go alone. He had a few things he wanted to learn about you too, and he planned to find out today.

You both paused at the entrance, spotting yourselves in the reflecting glass- your lavender outfit was quite a contrast with his all black. The guards checked your ids, scanned you and allowed you to go inside and when Seonghwa exhaled loudly, you smacked his arm. 

“Not subtle at all, Mr. Park.”

“I’m only teasing you,” he rolled his eyes as he laughed. “You think I haven’t done this? Sneaked in and gotten into trouble? More times than I can count.”

You made an impressed face and made your way to the display section, blown by the magnificent art pieces and the florals surrounding them. “Mother really put her heart and soul into this. No wonder she thought I couldn’t take over this job when I suggested that. My initial plan did fail for a reason.”

“You can go ahead and look at the flowers or whatever,” Seonghwa looked down at your still linked hands. “I’ll hang around and… observe. I need to check who the owners of these paintings are.”

“I think it’s better if we stick together- and you can lead the way. I don’t think I need to take a closer look at the flowers,” you shifted your hands so you were holding his arm now. “Better?”

Seonghwa glanced at you, gulping before he nodded. He wondered why he was so damn nervous around you. This wasn’t his first date-

Was he thinking of this as a date?

He led the way and you went from one art piece to another, observing for a few minutes. One of the guides answered whatever questions Seonghwa had. When you were at the heart of the display, Seonghwa finally asked what he wanted to. “What was your life like back at home?”

He noticed you tense for the smallest moment and he may have dismissed it had he not noticed you do that whenever someone talked about home. “Nothing much. Boring, if I have to say, but I have to credit my mother for all I am today.”

“Even the dark parts?” Seonghwa teased.

“Especially those,” you grinned at him, glad he was keeping it light. “She’s the only family I have- my father was never in the picture. She did what she had to.” He didn’t probe further, nodding slowly and guiding you to the next part, wondering just why your relationship with your mother was rocky. You asked him about his family.

“We’re a small family, but we’re close,” you could see his eyes curve and you bet he was smiling under the mask. “But when I look at you… I think you found a family here. The way you are with Siyeon and Wooyoung… it’s endearing.”

“Old friends are like family,” you smiled, agreeing. Seonghwa motioned towards the guards stationed near the far end- it had to be the office. “Should we take a closer look?”

“No, the guards might recognise me if Mr. Jang is involved,” he said, leading you to the other corner and you continued admiring the art while he looked at the office. “Can I ask why you wanted to open a cafe as a florist?”

“Well,” you thought about it. “I’ve practically lived with flowers. It’s what I’m best at and what I’m most confident about, though I started hating it a little when I felt like I hadn’t explored my options much. But when Wooyoung suggested opening up a cafe because he loved cooking for others… I think that’s when I looked at it differently.”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you think people look when they receive food or flowers? There’s not only happy occasions, but they’re both meaningful. To be a part of someone’s life or routine… I liked the idea of that. So we decided to partner up- Wooyoung gives the food and I give the flowers. It may sound stupid but-”

“No, it doesn’t,” Seonghwa insisted. “I heard somewhere, that even the darkest of places can be brightened by flowers, and even the darkest of humans can be moved.”

You narrowed your eyes at Seonghwa. You had, of course, heard that in your dream. “Where did you hear that- oh, look at that.”

Seonghwa followed your eyes to Mr. Jang going to his office room, followed by who had to be his secretary. He was about to turn away reflexively but you tightened your grip on his arm instead. “We’re going to his office.”

“We are not-”

“My mom sent a wine bottle for him, and I am simply delivering it on her behalf,” you motioned to the bag you were wearing which contained the gift and he rolled his eyes. “You can stay back if you want to-”

“No, I’ll come with you,” he said, looking like he was in pain.

You considered that. “Won’t he recognise you?”

“I think if he’s involved, it might shake him a little, seeing me with you,” Seonghwa was almost smirking. “That is, if your mother is involved too.”

“Ah… so you’re going to use me as bait? Noted,” you said and began to move forward and he laughed, grabbing your hand and stopping you but you pretended to be sour about it and made it to the office, letting him grab your hand when you knocked.

The secretary opened the door. “What business do you have?”

“I’m here from Eden Florals,” you said, “on behalf of the owner. She’s an acquaintance of Mr. Jang- she sent a gift for him.”

The secretary asked you to wait a moment and then let you in. You took out the gift first and then handed it to Mr. Jang with a bow. “I’m y/n from Eden Florals.”

“Of course,” Mr. Jang got up and shook hands with you. “I remember seeing a picture of you at your greenhouse when I went for a visit. You’re all grown up now!”

You smiled shyly. “My mother sends her regards. I’ve actually been wanting to visit your museum for quite a while ever since I moved to the city, but couldn’t get the chance.”

“And it seems like you did,” Mr. Jang glanced at Seonghwa.

“Yep,” you squeezed his hand, urging him to take his mask off. “This is my boyfriend, Seonghwa. He’s a fan of your work.”

“Nice to meet you,” Seonghwa said and you watched as Mr. Jang paused for a moment before shaking his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have,” he commented before sitting down. “You’re quite busy these days, I’ve heard.”

You pretended to be surprised. “Do you know each other?”

“Oh, didn’t he tell you?” Mr. Jang laughed. “He’s a very famous prosecutor around here. We’re all a little wary around him even when we’re clean as a slate.”

“That must mean he’s good at his job,” you passed a warm smile to Seonghwa and took a moment to look around. You found nothing suspicious at the first glance. “Well, I must get going now- sorry for taking so much of your time.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I hope you visit again. Send my regards to your mother too,” he said and you bowed before leaving the office, deciding to just exit the museum as well.

“So?” Seonghwa asked when you finally got out. “What do you think?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s involved- he looked more surprised to see you,” you thought. “I’m not sure about my mother though- what do you think?”

“I’m not so sure either,” Seonghwa inhaled deeply. “But I know for sure that he’s aware of what’s going on in the Underworld, at least.”

“Well then,” you paused, spotting a barbeque restaurant and feeling your stomach growl at the thought of food. “Shall we think about it over some food? My treat for dragging you along.”

“Shouldn’t we just go back?”

“Come on,” you elbowed him. “You said you wanted to live a little, right?”

Seonghwa gave you a look but urged you to lead the way and you stifled your grin as you entered the restaurant and gave your orders.

“You remembered that I said that,” he said after you both relaxed. 

“Of course I did,” you shrugged, “We have that in common.”

“Is there something you want to do then?” Seonghwa rested his face on his hands, elbow propped on the table, looking casually at you. “I can’t figure you out. Sometimes you’re trying to dissolve in the background and then sometimes… you pull a bold move like you just did in Mr. Jang’s office.”

Before you could answer, the food arrived and you took that moment to think. “I could say a few things about you too, Prosecutor Park Seonghwa,” you teased and he groaned in amusement. “You seem miles away sometimes but then… you’re right here.”

Seonghwa raised a brow. “Are you talking about how I space out sometimes? Because I’ve been doing a lot of that ever since I met you. You make me confused.”

“Oh? How?” You asked, taking a bite of the meat. 

“I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a madman so I’ll let you know some other time,” he promised and you made a face at that. “It’s also probably because you’re quite weird too-”

“I could say the same for you!” You laughed. “You talk to yourself when you’re working! I thought I was hearing things and then I thought you were on a call or something, but you were just arguing with yourself.”

Seonghwa hid his face. “I have to do that when I’m lost while I’m connecting the dots. And you! You stare into the space like you can actually see something! I passed by one time and thought you were possessed!”

You both had a good laugh over that. “We’re all strange in some ways,” you acknowledged. “Speaking of, did you find anything strange about the paintings?”

“Yeah, I’ve got someone on it,” he checked his phone. “I just need to check if Mr. Jang’s really the owner of those paintings that he claims are his, or if most of the owners are involved in this drug business. What are you going to do, though?”

“I think I should visit back home- when my mom is away. Ugh, I don’t know how I’ll work that part out, but I need her to be away if I want to confirm my suspicions.”

“You might be offended to hear this, but…” Seonghwa began and you urged him to continue. “Normally, someone would have refused to believe their mother was involved in something like this. Why are you entertaining the possibility, I’m wondering.”

You took a deep breath. “We’re not on the best terms, as you must have seen when she visited the cafe,” you looked at him and he nodded. “She’s… overprotective. Overbearing. And she wasn’t the best mother- she could have done a lot of things differently about parenting,” you let out a short laugh, sighing. “And anyways, the Middlemist Blue is very rare. I can pull out of this but I shouldn’t stop you from investigating.”

“I understand,” he looked a bit apologetic and you shook your hand in dismissal, pouring him a drink and changing the topic,asking him how he became friends with everyone you knew and how he got to where he was. After you were done eating, he took the bus with you which stopped near your cafe and decided to drop you off.

“You don’t need to, I can find my way,” you teased, the few drinks you had back there making you both more comfortable with each other, especially when you both had talked so much the whole day. 

“You know my car is parked there, right?” He laughed and you pouted. “It was your idea of a ‘date’.”

“You liked it though,” you elbowed him and he grinned. “When should we plan our next date? Do you want to go somewhere else before we go to my town?”

“I didn’t realise I was coming with you there,” Seonghwa casually grabbed your arm and pulled you closer.

“Of course you are coming with me,” you glanced at him. “We have a nice view there. I’d really like to show you.”

“If you insist,” he scoffed, though he was pleased. “Is there anywhere you want to go then?”

“I asked you,” you poked his arm. “Come on. Spill.”

“Well… I think I’d really like to go to the beach. It’s been forever since I went.”

“That’s great. I haven’t gone in forever. We should all go together- I could ask Siyeon and Wooyoung-”

“We could all go together, but…” Seonghwa paused, turning to you. “I’d like it more if it was just the two of us.”

“Oh, really?” You were about to tease him but then it sank in. “Oh.”

Seonghwa smiled, taking your hand and walking the rest of the way to the cafe in silence while your heart thumped wildly. When you arrived, he turned to you once again.

“Thank you for today. It was fun and productive. I never thought it could be both.”

You shook your head. “Always thinking about work first. I still haven’t forgotten how you used me as bait-”

Seonghwa shut you up with a chaste kiss to your cheek, laughing when he noticed how surprised you were. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s- it’s okay, just took me by surprise,” you unconsciously touched where he had kissed you.

“Do you like it then? Should I do it again now that you’re-”

“Ah, you’re drunk,” you laughed, pushing him away when he tried to do it again. “Kiss me when your head is not in the clouds.”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, his gaze changing and you realised what you had said. “I think I might be drunk too. I should go back inside…”

“I’ll remember that for next time,” Seonghwa promised and you waved goodbye, heading inside and unable to stop smiling for a good few moments.

—----------------------

“It’s not how I imagined us to be,” you said, caressing his hair, his head resting on your lap. It looked like he had stars in his hair. “Everyone thinks you’re the villain- that you’ve brought me here by force. It wasn’t my intention to make you misunderstood-”

“It doesn’t matter, Persephone,” Hades sighed in pleasure. “As long as you’re with me and happy… it doesn’t matter what the world thinks of us.”

“But Hades,” you couldn’t shake off the feeling of impending doom. “Mother will do anything to get me back. She won’t settle for 6 months on Earth and 6 months in the Underworld deal. She might get your brothers on her side, and then-”

Hades pulled away, sitting in front of you. “Did you know what would happen if you ate those pomegranate seeds?” You nodded and he continued. “You chose to do this. Will you choose to be by my side when everyone thinks I manipulated you into doing so?”

“Of course I will. I’m doing it now,” you pointed out and Hades smiled. “You’re the first person who saw me for who I truly was, and accepted me. You made me the Queen of Underworld and offered me whatever I wanted. I want to be with you, Hades. I don’t want to go back to Earth.”

Hades tucked his finger under your chin to make you look at him as he said, “You’re also the Goddess of Spring. You brought life to the Underworld- look around,” he glanced at the once dead forest that now bloomed with flowers of all sorts, bloomed with life. “I never thought it could be warm here- warm here too,” he touched his heart. “And you’re also the first one to look past the monster everyone has made me to be.”

With that, he leaned forward and kissed you in such a gentle manner that you wondered how he still managed to stay alive all alone in the cold Underworld. You kissed him back with the promise that he would never have to feel cold again. Hades was surprised when you kissed him back, because for a moment he wondered if he had made a mistake, if he had been too hasty- but when you climbed in his lap to kiss him deeper and his arms wound around your waist, he knew that he had fallen for you ages ago.

~

You woke up with a groan, your muscles aching and you found that you had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room. You rubbed your eyes, hearing water run- Siyeon must be showering. With a sigh, you got up and decided to make breakfast, cracking eggs and frying them, turning the coffee machine on-

And pausing in the middle of flipping eggs when the memory of the dream came back. You poked your tongue in your cheek, resuming the frying and scoffing at the memory- Hades kissing Persephone.

Seonghwa kissing you.

You cursed under your breath- it felt too real. You could feel butterflies in your stomach- or maybe it was because you already had a thing for Seonghwa. You had to admit that you did, especially with the conversation a few nights ago when he had kissed you on the cheek and you had asked him to kiss you again when he was sober.

You had met Seonghwa after that, but he had been a bit busy so he only said hi or made small talk when he stopped by at your cafe, both of you waiting for the day your mom would leave town which would be the weekend, you found out thanks to Siyeon. You both were pretending that conversation didn’t happen and things were pretty normal, if you had to say-

“Gosh, you scared me. Why are you smiling like a fool?”

You snorted, setting the table and sitting across Siyeon. “Just had a silly dream.”

“I had one too,” Siyeon laughed. “I was running away from a giant chicken. I think I should stop eating too much chicken…”

“Do you believe in coincidences, though?” You wondered out loud. “Like… do you think we can foresee things in our dreams?”

Siyeon raised a brow at the sudden change of tone. “I think I read something about that once. That sometimes we can actually foresee things. It’s pretty rare though, and most of the time it’s our mind making up scenarios.”

“But like, what if you’ve been foreseeing things for a while?” You leaned forward. 

“I don’t know,” Siyeon shrugged. “Are you?”

“Not really,” you shrugged back. “Just wondering.”

You wanted to tell her that you saw Seonghwa in your dreams so many times before you met him, but… would she believe it? Even if she did, she’d think you were crazy. You couldn’t blame her for that- anyone would think you were crazy.

“You look like you have been having trouble sleeping, though,” Siyeon commented.

“Yeah, I haven’t had good sleep in a while,” you rubbed your face. “I’m going to go change.”

Before Siyeon could ask more, you were off to your room. After getting ready, she dropped you at the furniture store where Wooyoung was already waiting for you. He had picked a few options and you both went through the designs, choosing round wooden tables and comfortable cushion chairs in light pink colour for the cafe- you were pleased by how it looked in your mind so far. 

“I think Hongjoong’s idea of a vintage theme really stuck to me. This is going to look perfect,” you pointed at some old frames.

“Get anything you want- I’m ready to spoil you,” Wooyoung nodded. “Just remember the budget. We spared a lot since you’re painting yourself.”

“Yeah, I just need to get some paints now,” you put your hands in your coat pocket as Wooyoung filled the receipt. “Brown and white should be okay, huh?”

“Yeah,” he was done. “Let’s look at the curtains next?”

You spent the good part of the afternoon shopping as much as you both could, getting lunch in between and making a timeline of when you needed to get things done and started. Wooyoung was busy with his cooking classes but you were mostly free so you were going to paint. He said he would ask the boys to give you a hand but you declined, saying it was something you’d prefer to do by yourself and you would be calling them anyway when you would need to decorate and set the furniture.

You got a text from Seonghwa when Wooyoung was about to drop you back at the cafe. 

Hi. Can you meet me at the intersection near the cafe? I’m passing by and need to hand you some documents- I’m meeting someone and I can’t risk taking them along.

If you’re not busy, that is. 

If you’re busy, I’ll just hide them in my office.

You smiled at the texts and Wooyoung glanced at you. “Already have a boyfriend?”

“No, it’s not that,” you groaned. “Can you drop me off at the intersection instead?”

“Meeting someone?” Wooyoung teased after agreeing. “I gotta see who it is.”

“Gosh,” you knew Wooyoung wasn’t going to back out so you gave in. “It’s only Seonghwa. He needs to give me something.”

“Seonghwa?” Wooyoung scoffed. “When did you two become so close?”

You suddenly felt guilty for not telling Wooyoung and Siyeon anything about Seonghwa yet. “We’re not that close. He’s just using my office to hide a few important documents because his house got ransacked twice- the case he’s working on. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Wooyoung made an impressed face. “He’s trusting you with that?”

“You know I’m good at hiding things,” you teased and he laughed, recalling that one time you were fourteen and bought a phone and hid it from your mother for about a year until she found out and gave you hell for it. 

He dropped you off with a promise that you’d give him more details and you waved goodbye, spotting Seonghwa at the far end near a shop. You went to him and he apologised for making you come out when you were busy.

“I was just heading back to the cafe- I was out running errands with Wooyoung,” you told him, taking the USB and putting it in the inside pocket of your coat. “I’m interested to hear why you think this could be stolen.”

“It’s crucial information… and I don’t want to be careless,” he looked around, running a hand through his hair and your stomach swooped when your mind decided to flash back that one scene from your dream where you were running a hand through his hair instead- “And I think I have a tail, which is why I didn’t stop by the cafe too much. I need to find out who it is this time.”

“Oh,” you pursed your lips. “I’ll hide it well then.”

“I’m sure you will,” he smiled, checking the time. “I’ve got to go. See you later?”

“See you,” you saluted, going backwards where you came from. You took two turns down the street when you felt eyes on you and you turned around, catching a shadow hide behind a pole- since it was getting dark, you couldn’t see well, but-

If Seonghwa had a tail, it was possible they were following you now.

Which meant there was no way in hell you could go back to the cafe.

You decided to go to the convenience store instead, taking another turn. You took out your phone and used the screen and the lights to see if anyone was actually following you or you were just being anxious-

There was someone. And he was close. 

You unlocked your phone and texted Seonghwa: I have a tail and he’s following me rn. You called him next.

“Wooyoung! Did you see my text? I sent you the receipt of the furniture.”

“Uh, it’s Seonghwa-”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “Can you just take a look and see if it’s the right one?”

“Is anyone following you right now?”

“Yep,” you attempted to sound cheerful because you were pretty sure whoever was behind you could hear you. You decided to stay where it was crowded, though. At least he wouldn’t attempt something in the middle of a crowd, right?

“Oh goodness. Where are you?”

“Dinner? I think I’ll just have ramen at the convenience store.”

“Got it. Stay safe- don’t run. Stay around people, okay? I’m coming.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you said. “Aren’t you busy?”

“Stay on call, okay?” Seonghwa said and you could hear his breath sound like he was running. He had to be on foot now- you glanced around casually, noticing the man behind you properly now- he was wearing a face mask and a cap. 

Someone was starting to suspect you, it seemed. They couldn’t see you with Seonghwa.

“I don’t want to be seen with you, Wooyoung,” you almost scolded. “People will have the wrong idea.”

“Now is not the time to play games, y/n,” Seonghwa sighed. “I can see you- cross the street and when it gets busy, go to the backside of the convenience store. He’s a good distance behind you so if we run, we could lose him.”

“Got it. Bye,” you said and put your phone in your pocket, taking a deep breath and waiting for the signal to turn green, an old couple near you. You casually looked around- the man was indeed hanging around a few feet away.

You crossed the road with the couple, and after taking a sharp turn you started running when you spotted Seonghwa. He grabbed your hand and led you to an old building, exiting from the front and then going to another building, following him in the darkness and swallowing your panic until you made a stop at a parking lot.

“I think we’ve lost him,” he looked around. “You definitely had a tail-”

You sighed loudly in relief, your knees going weak and Seonghwa was quick to hold you against him, making you rest your head on his chest- you could hear his wildly thumping heart as well. Seonghwa chuckled in disbelief, patting your back. “I got you.”

“I was so scared for a moment back there,” you said as you finally looked up at him and he scanned your face, looking apologetic.

“I was more scared,” Seonghwa found himself tucking your hair behind. “I could see who's following you. I had to do something- I couldn’t simply wait and watch.”

You leaned into his touch, surprising him but then he brought you into a hug and you didn’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his waist. He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. I never should have asked that from you- I shouldn’t have let you do this alone. I don’t even know how they figured out-”

“It’s okay- I would have done it anyway,” you only hugged him tighter. “Besides, I was smooth. I’ve got it,” you broke the hug and patted your pocket that held the USB. “You should hire me. I think I might be a natural at this.”

Seonghwa laughed at that. “I think that’s tempting,” he licked his lips as he looked at you. “Let’s get out of here.”

He drove you home and insisted that you stay there for the rest of the day, just to be on the safe side. He made a call to cancel his meeting as well. When you arrived at the apartment, you offered him to come inside for dinner.

“I’m feeling chicken and beer now,” you said, getting out of the taxi and waiting for him. “A little company would be nice.”

Seonghwa pondered for a moment before following you out. “Isn’t this where Siyeon lives as well?”

“She won’t be home until 11 tonight,” you said, leading the way inside. He took off his shoes, looking around.

“Neat,” he commented. “I thought Siyeon’s place would look more like a dungeon.”

“It did,” you laughed. “Before I moved in. She’s better now.”

Seonghwa laughed at that and you took out the USB. “Should I just hide it here? It’s better to keep important things scattered, right?”

“Maybe, yes,” he thought for a moment. “I’ll just make a few copies of it.”

You sat down with Seonghwa on the couch, putting on whatever drama was airing and watching Seonghwa make copies on his laptop, handing you the original one to hide, which you did in a random jar in the kitchen that you were sure no one else would touch. Seonghwa was impressed. “I should have hid things in the kitchen too.”

“Doesn’t work everytime,” you told him and he shut his laptop and put it aside. The chicken arrived and you found yourselves absorbed in casual discussion, from the case to how he became a prosecutor to your family.

“We’re going this weekend, by the way,” you reminded him, having finished eating about half an hour ago and just relaxing with beer now. “You’re free for the day, right?”

“I am,” he confirmed and you scanned him- head resting on his hand, arm propped on the couch, sitting very comfortably on the floor. You could imagine him as Hades. Was it really a past life you were seeing or were you possessed? There was no way you were the goddess of spring and he the king of the underworld, but…

With your present occupations, you were beginning to doubt if it really made no sense.

“You’re staring, y/n,” he commented, his voice deeper. “What are you thinking?”

You gulped unconsciously. “Sorry. Just got lost for a moment.”

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” he pouted uncharacteristically and you laughed, taking the beer can away from him.

“Don’t tell me you’re drunk again!” You teased.

“I’m pretty sober right now,” he insisted and you narrowed your eyes at him, but he didn’t budge. “I also remember a promise I made for when I was sober-”

“Oh, please,” you looked away, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and he smiled at that.

“Do I make you nervous, y/n?” he asked, taking your hands away when you hid your cheeks and pulling them in his lap. “I’m sorry for today. I really wish you would stop involving yourself anymore.”

“Not this again,” you squeezed his hand. “We’re fine. We’re here. That’s all that matters- you know I can’t back out now anyway.”

He looked at you. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It could get worse now.”

“Well, I want you to pull out too. I want to keep you safe, but it seems like we can’t get everything that we want…” you shrugged and he felt warmth inside after hearing that. “Now can you stop looking at me like this?”

“Like what?” He teased and pulled you closer, taking you by surprise, your face inches away. “Like this?”

His gaze dropped to your lips and you felt butterflies, unable to look away, your own gaze dropping at his plump lips now parted. He ran his thumb over your lower lip, patting your cheek before drawing away but you took his hand and pulled him back, taking him by surprise.

“You haven’t kept your promise,” you said.

“I don’t think I’m fully sober,” he replied.

“Does it look like I care about that?” 

There it was- your gaze changing, your persona changing. He absolutely loved it when you got playful like this, and he wasn’t going to miss this chance. He smiled, leaning forward and hesitating before he kissed your cheek, lingering there for a moment. However, when he saw you with your eyes still shut, he couldn’t help but take it a step further, brushing his lips across yours as if asking for permission and you took the next step, pecking his lips and then drawing back as if you had been caught doing something.

“Y/n,” he groaned before he cupped your face and kissed you properly, moving his lips along yours, your hands holding his wrists tightening with every second and then he drew back for a breath. You moved closer, propping yourself in his lap and he felt deja vu, his arms going around your waist as you cupped his face and kissed him deeper. 

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to feel this, but you felt like you were doing something absolutely right- you somehow knew where to touch him, where to hold him, how to kiss him- you already knew the planes and curves and edges of his face as you traced it while you kissed him, and you felt like you belonged there. Somehow, that thought made you feel overwhelmed and you broke the kiss, caressing his face as you looked him in his eyes.

“Don’t you feel like we’ve been here before, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa thought he was hearing things, but he nodded. “I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”

You smiled at that, pecking his lips again. “Then I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

Seonghwa caressed your arms and you buried your face in his neck, wanting to feel closer, hugging him tightly. He hugged you back and held you for a long time before his phone vibrated and he came back to reality.

“I should get going before Siyeon comes. She’ll raise hell,” he laughed and you grinned.

“See you on the weekend then?” You asked. It was only two days away.

“Maybe you’ll see me before that too,” he smiled, taking his stuff and you walked him out. Before you could leave, he kissed you on your forehead.

“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” He said and you nodded, watching him leave, lovestruck.

—-----------------------------

You barely had the strength to move right now, but even if you did, there wasn’t any other place you would rather be, for you were home in the arms of your husband, the King of the Underworld.

Your king.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this…” he sighed. His voice sounded weary and you glanced up to meet his eyes- he looked beyond tired. “I wish I could take your pain.”

“We saw it coming, my love,” you buried your face in his neck. “One day or another, the mortals are going to forget us- we knew that. We knew we would dissipate into moths or flowers when that time came. And we are so brave to face it together- unlike the others who ended themselves.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain though,” he insisted. “You could go to Styx. You could end this too-”

“Are you that miserable to be with me?” You teased and he laughed. You marvelled at how young his laugh sounded.

“Of course not. All I’ve ever wanted was to die in your arms.”

Your heart tugged at that- you had spent an indefinite time with Hades but when he said things like that, you felt like you were experiencing something new. 

“Do you want to make a wish, then?” You asked. “Don’t tell me you’ve used the wish we got from Hestia.”

“I don’t think it’s any use now. She’s as weak as us, if not more.”

“But we could try- if we have the same wish.”

Hades tugged your chin up. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking… that this is the end, but I’d like to meet you in another life.”

“I’d like that too,” he nodded.

“Shall we wish to be reincarnated as mortal lovers then?”

“Why mortal lovers? Their lives are short and meaningless.”

“But,” you sighed dreamily. “But they know that, and still love with all their might. I’d like to have that with you once again.”

Hades smiled at that- he couldn’t have thought of something better. “Well then… let’s make that wish.”

~

“Well…” you got off the bus that stopped at the town where your home was. “This is it.”

Seonghwa put his hands in his pockets as he looked at the cloudy sky over the hills, the air feeling cleaner than usual. “It’s beautiful here.”

“It is,” you smiled and Seonghwa thought there was something sad about your smile. You walked side by side, following the track that led to your house. Seonghwa made small talk but he felt like there was something weighing on you- something else other than the fact that your mother could be involved in the biggest drug scandal in the history of Wonderland, so he let the silence take over until you reached the cottage house. 

“Do you want to have some tea before we investigate?” You asked and he nodded, eager to see this part of your life. You unlocked the door and let him in and he looked around.

“It looks cosy but why is it so cold?” He shivered.

You smiled faintly. “It’s always been like this.”

You asked him to get comfortable and went to the kitchen, smiling at the pictures of your childhood hanging by the fireplace. When you came back, he asked you about the backstory of those pictures and you told him- first day of school, first broken tooth, first day at college and more. You showed him your room and he boasted how he would guess your room anywhere if he saw it- he was very familiar with your vibe now. 

“And that’s my mom’s room, if you’re up for snooping,” you said and went inside.

“Very minimalistic,” he observed. “I don’t know what to look for, actually. You can do the snooping. I’m kind of scared of her.”

You chuckled at that, going through her drawers and the bookshelf, asking Seonghwa to check if there were hidden compartments in the room. However, you found nothing.

“She’s not that simple, my mother,” you said as you made sure everything was in place before exiting the room. “We should check her private greenhouse. She may have something there.”

“Do you have all her keys?” Seonghwa asked and you nodded. “I don’t think she’ll keep something like that where you could access it.”

“I think otherwise,” you glanced at him. “We’ve been playing cat and mouse for years now,” you told him as you unlocked her greenhouse, shivering a little as a few bad memories flashed in your mind. “I think this is where she’ll keep it, and then she’ll test me.”

Seonghwa didn’t say anything, just watched you as you went around and zoned out, staring at the far end corner. He decided to give you some space but after a few minutes, he found you still staring at the same spot. 

He walked to you and gently put his arms around your waist in a back hug and felt you finally relax. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cleared your throat. “Just some bad memories here.”

“You wanna talk about it?” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you smiled faintly- you had missed this. You caressed his hands as you looked ahead. 

“She used to lock me up here when I misbehaved, and I wasn’t the most well-behaved kid as a child,” you let out a short laugh. “I learned to love the dark. It worked until she found out I wasn’t scared anymore.”

“Oh, y/n,” he hugged you tighter. “You don’t have to pretend to be okay anymore.”

You pursed your lips, not wanting to cry so you turned around and let him sway you in a hug until you felt better. He sighed. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come here if I knew.”

“I needed to come here one day or another,” you shrugged. “And I’m glad you’re the one with me.”

Seonghwa caressed your cheek, kissing you deeply and hugging you again. “You’re really strong, you know that?”

You smiled, breaking the hug. “Thank you. I’m just pretending to be.”

Seonghwa smiled back, tucking your hair. “We all are, aren’t we?”

You nodded, spotting the familiar flower behind him. “That’s the Middlemist Blue. They’re more than I expected.”

Seonghwa turned around and found a few pots of the very rare flower. “It feels unreal to see it here. Do you think she’s only trying to keep this flower from going extinct, or…”

“I’ll look around- I really can’t say,” you bit your lip, going through the cupboards until you found a locked drawer. “What do you think she keeps here?”

“I don’t want to guess,” he admitted. “No key?”

“Let’s break it?”

“No, we don’t want to leave traces,” he said, glancing at your head. “Bobby pins?”

“Oooh,” you grinned, taking the pins out of your hair. “Don’t tell me you know how to do that.”

“I’ve learned a few tricks in my field- though one would question if I’m really doing something morally right,” he began unlocking the drawer. “I say as long as it’s serving a good purpose, you’re allowed to do something like this.”

“Wow,” you said as it unlocked and he flicked his hair proudly, making you stick out your tongue before you opened the drawer to examine the contents. You found her old pictures, a few of your father, and some receipts that you handed to Seonghwa.

“So she is providing the Middlemist Blue to Mr. Jang,” he went through the receipts. “Question is- is she keeping these because she’s involved directly in the drug dealing, or because she suspects something and is keeping proof?”

“Yeah, because she wouldn’t keep the receipts in this drawer unless they meant something important,” you nodded. 

“But these date only a year ago,” Seonghwa observed. “Did Mr. Jang change his provider or did she only start suspecting foul play?”

“I guess only she could answer that,” you took pictures of all the receipts. “You’ll have to call her as a witness now, right?”

“I suppose, yes. I’ve found some other things too, but it’s better to call her privately and discuss it,” he looked sorry and you told him it was okay. You locked the drawer back and exited the greenhouse, taking a deep breath and turning to Seonghwa. “Do you want to go to my comfort place to get some food? I wanna show you the lake too before we go back.”

Seonghwa agreed- the day had been tense and he wanted to make the atmosphere between you two light again. You took him to the restaurant by the lake where you had some seafood. You walked around, now comfortably joking about stuff and making small talk until you reached the quietest spot around the lake next to the stream.

“I used to come here when I needed to be alone,” you settled down on the grass. “Never thought I’d bring someone here, much less a prosecutor who’s investigating my mother.”

“Please, can you stop joking about that already,” he laughed painfully, settling down next to you. “Tell me what you like about this place.”

“Well,” you looked up at the stars in the sky. “That. The sound of water. The dirt,” you patted the ground. “The peace this place provided. I felt disconnected here, as if I belonged to another world and was simply a visitor here.”

“Interesting,” he looked up as well. “I like the night sky too. Especially the moon. I feel at home here.”

You glanced at him- you’d heard that before, in a dream. You realised you had said the same thing as Persephone too. Seonghwa looked at you cautiously as well, swallowing the questions down but still daring to ask, “Do you dream when you sleep?”

“Don’t we all?” You frowned at how cryptic he sounded.

“I dream of another life sometimes,” Seonghwa decided to play it safe. “I dream that I’m all alone and cold in another world, until someone comes and puts life in me, around me.”

You felt your heart sink- could it be? 

“I dream too,” your voice was quiet. “That I’m misunderstood and confined until someone frees me and takes me to another world where I can make my own choices. Where I can be free and not have to pretend to be someone else.”

Seonghwa and you both stared at each other, each lost as they tried to fit the pieces together. “Have you heard the story of Hades and Persephone, y/n?”

As soon as he said that, you almost lost your balance in disbelief. It couldn’t be a coincidence this time, could it? 

You had one shot. You had to play it right.

“I’ve heard many versions,” you said cautiously and found his puzzled gaze confusing. “But… I believe in the one that I dream of.”

“No way,” Seonghwa breathed, turning to you. “What does the Underworld need?’”

It was impossible, but you found yourself leaning forward and caressing his cheekbone, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

“‘It needs a touch of spring’.”

Seonghwa couldn’t believe his ears. He watched you laugh in disbelief as well. “Don’t tell me you’ve been dreaming about Persephone too, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa scoffed, looking up helplessly. “You’ve been dreaming about Hades?”

“I saw you before I ever met you, can you believe that?” You said and he held your hands, squeezing them. “I thought I was crazy.”

“I thought I was crazy- especially when I knew what your mother looked like before I saw her, and then I heard her call you Kore- I couldn’t believe my ears, I- this is unbelievable,” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathed. “If you’re Hades and I’m Persephone… what are we supposed to do, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa shut his eyes, letting himself relax fully for the first time now that he knew he wasn’t alone. He heard you sniff and opened his eyes, finding your face wet with tears. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I don’t know what to do, Seonghwa,” you let him wipe your tears away. “I missed you. I’ve yearned for you my whole life, and when I saw you that day? I thought I was insane. I don’t know how I managed to hold myself back, but oh, goodness, I feel like I’ve waited an eternity to be with you-”

Seonghwa kissed your lips, taking you by surprise but you kissed back as eagerly as he was, clinging on to each other as if that could wipe the distance of aeons away. He found himself kissing your temple, your forehead, the places he used to kiss the most as Hades, and he let you run your hands through his hair like you always did. You let him get on top of you, not caring if anyone could see- it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now, except that you had finally found him.

He broke apart, resting his head at the crook of your neck, kissing your exposed skin lazily and you thought you could dissolve right in the ground. “You need to tell me everything.”

“Well…” you laughed, still finding the whole situation unbelievable. “Shall we find a place to stay the night then? I don’t think we can go back to my house…”

“Let’s go back to Sector 1- you can stay at my place… if you want to.”

“Of course, I don’t mind,” you smiled and decided to waste no more time.

Throughout the bus ride, you shared your stories- the first dream you had, when you had it, how it changed when you met each other. When you got to his place and had a few drinks (and a few kisses), you managed to sketch a timeline.

“So Persephone- or Kore, Demeter’s daughter,” you began, “didn’t know she was a goddess. She thought she was an ordinary flower nymph, but she had something else in her- she could make the flowers… die?”

“Sort of,” Seonghwa agreed. “I think she had anger issues.”

You gave him a look and he grinned. You sighed. “So she might have caused some destruction but Demeter always hid her from the world. That’s an awful lot like my mother. Anyways, one day she was panicking by the lake when Hades found her.”

“He said she called for him,” Seonghwa recalled. “Fitting how we found each other by the lake again, huh?”

You considered that, nodding. “So he offers her his company. Why?”

“He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him,” Seonghwa rubbed his chin. “And he found her powers interesting too.”

“So Persephone calls for him again- or he comes by- did he stalk her? Anyways, they talk a lot and get to know each other. Persephone realises Hades is not the cold monster everyone has made him to be. Hades realises she’s not the good girl she pretends to be.”

“I don’t think he stalked her,” Seonghwa pouted and you laughed. “Even if he did… I didn’t.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “The events are somewhat similar to what’s happening in our lives now, right? You’re still the King slash Grim Reaper of the Underworld. I’m still a floral goddess. So the question is… why are we having these dreams? Are we a part of an experiment? Or is it simply fate playing games with us? Were we really Hades and Persephone in our past lives?”

“Do you remember that dream?” Seonghwa looked at you. “We were powerless and old. When people started forgetting us, we started fading.”

You raised a brow at how he was now referring to the entities as yourselves. “And then we made a promise to stay by each other’s side, and-”

“And made a wish. What was the wish, y/n?”

You felt as if you’d been dumped with cold water. “To be reincarnated as mortal lovers.”

Seonghwa smiled, “I don’t think we have to think too much then. We got what we wished for, it seems.”

You caressed his hand. “Do you think we only met each other because we’re Hades and Persephone?”

“I don’t care about that, but one thing I know for sure,” he looked into your eyes, eager to erase any doubts you had. “I fell for you in this life because of who you are today. I don’t care if we’re Hades and Persephone, if we’re meant to be or whatever. I know for sure that I would have liked you even if we were not.”

“Gosh, you say that but you’re still as cringy as Hades,” you laughed, making him groan. You scooted closer to him on the couch, letting your hand travel to the nape of his neck. “Well … I like you for just you too. I like Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I wanted to be sure that the old feelings weren’t messing with me, but you’re right. We’re really meant to be if we like each other for who we are today.”

“But you know what I like better?” Seonghwa’s gaze was hot as he traced your lips. “I know you- not the basics, but I know in my heart what you like,” he let his hands travel down the curve of your neck, satisfied when you shivered involuntarily. “And I’ve wanted to do this for a long, long time.”

He took your lips in a kiss, swiping his tongue along them and you immediately opened up for him, letting his tongue explore your mouth, the memories of it tugging at the back of your mind. You positioned yourself on top of him, arms around his neck, his hands on your waist as he kissed you passionately and you let your hips roll once, making him groan into the kiss and break apart.

“You’re not the only one,” you said and Seonghwa sucked in his breath at how dark your gaze was. “I remember it all too well. You were the King of the Underworld, and I was your Queen. This-” you looked down at your bodies. “This was my throne. You were cold and mysterious to the world, but for me, you were vulnerable and warm,” you smiled, curling your hands in his hair and leaning in to whisper in his ear-

“And I liked your hair longer.”

Seonghwa laughed deeply at that, shaking his head and letting you pepper kisses where he liked- along his jaw, on his nose, and then on his lips, which quickly turned heated, extra layers of clothes off and bodies as close as possible. Every brush of the skin and every kiss felt heightened, now that you both remembered what you had found and what you had lost. And there was no hesitation in your actions now. You had never been more sure about anything.

He was the one for you.

—----------------------

“I can’t believe you could suspect me of something like this,” your mother glared at you and you felt heat creep up your cheeks but Seonghwa’s hand on your thigh made you feel better.

“She’s not suspecting you, ma’am. She’s just trying to keep you safe,” Seonghwa’s tone was hard and you felt a bit proud of how he was standing up for you despite panicking earlier because he was very scared of your mother- he had the memories of Demeter to blame. 

Seonghwa had allowed you to call your mother to your cafe for a private discussion first, now that he had conclusive evidence- but he wasn’t telling you right now, insisting he needed to hear your mother’s statement as well. You were thankful for that and he told you it was the least he could do for you. 

“I’m doing this for your sake, whether you believe it or not,” you sighed. “You just need to tell me if you really know what Mr. Jang and the others are doing with the Middlemist Blue.”

“He’s always been interested in flowers,” your mother replied, tucking her hair back in her bun. “So when he showed interest in that rare flower and offered a high price for me to reproduce it, I didn’t suspect anything. I would have done that sooner or later anyway.”

“But did you know that the Middlemist Blue can be used as a hallucinogen?” 

“Not at all,” she shook her head firmly. “I didn’t, until… until a year ago when I heard something suspicious- Mr. Jang was talking to his friend, saying something about a flower that makes him see another world. I overheard him talk about how he needed to find another source for the flower too. That’s when I started to keep the receipts- he found out that I suspected him and threatened me, but I was smarter. I told him if something happened to me… my daughter would expose the details to the world.”

You frowned. “Your plan was good but I had no idea- you never told me anything.”

“I didn’t know how to, and I didn’t want to involve you in something dangerous,” she pursed her lips. “They could have hurt you.”

You bit your lips as you thought. “So that’s it? You’ve been keeping track of his receipts?”

“I was trying to find a way to get out of this mess, but then I saw you,” she looked at Seonghwa and he straightened. “Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I wondered why he sounded familiar.”

You and Seonghwa looked at each other. Seonghwa asked, “Why?”

“You were investigating the case,” she scoffed in amusement. “And you were by my daughter’s side. I thought you approached her because you were suspecting me. Is that true?”

“Of course not,” Seonghwa said before you could. “We have mutual friends. We met each other by chance.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugged. “Are you done interrogating me?”

Seonghwa took a deep breath. “I’ll provide witness protection to you- you can stop providing Mr. Jang with the flowers now. I know you weren’t directly involved, I just needed to hear it from you. I do have to ask you, though… how do you know Mr. Ahn?”

Your mother tensed at that. “What’s that got to do with any of this?”

You frowned at the sudden change of her tone and Seonghwa looked at you before saying, “Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceutical frequents your place a lot, doesn’t he?”

“What has my private life got to do with this case?” She practically seethed and you raised a brow in realisation.

“Don’t tell me you’re dating him?” You scoffed. “I knew you were seeing someone, I just didn’t realise who… wait-” you looked at Seonghwa. “Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceuticals?”

“Thank you for cooperating, ma’am,” Seonghwa got up and bowed. “I think you should also stop seeing Mr. Ahn for a while. I’ll be issuing an arrest warrant for him tonight.”

Your mother gasped in realisation and you stood confused, wondering just what was going on. However, she stood up and straightened after a moment. “I should have known. No one’s interested in a mere florist- not a man of his standing.”

“Don’t be too disappointed- not everyone is like that,” Seonghwa had a faint smile as he took your hand and caressed it, making you jump- you hadn’t told your mother anything about Seonghwa yet, and she was quick to notice. She only smiled knowingly. 

“I’ll catch up with her later, but you-” she pointed a finger at Seonghwa, sighing. “You better do a good job at catching those assholes, and my daughter better not get hurt.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” Seonghwa nodded.

“Can I have a moment with you, Kore?” She asked and you nodded, going outside with her. She sighed deeply, looking at you with fondness, which was rare, but perhaps this time, you had earned it. 

“I would have scolded you but… I’m glad he’s smart,” she grinned and you laughed nervously as well. She patted your cheek. “Come visit me soon. I’ll have no company now.”

“I’m sorry about Mr. Ahn…” you hesitated but she rolled her eyes.

“I should have known better-”

“No. You couldn’t have guessed,” you assured her, patting her arm awkwardly. “It’s okay. You should come by more often too. Wooyoung’s mother misses you. You and Siyeon’s mother should all hang out or something.”

“Open this place soon then,” she said. “We’ll gather here.”

You watched her leave until Seonghwa came by your side. “I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but… I had to respect her privacy too.”

“You did the right thing,” you nodded. “I’m not sure how Mr. Ahn is involved.”

“I don’t know whether he really likes your mother or he used her, but… the company that’s been creating the drug is his too. He set it up to put his rivals behind bars- he purposely disturbed the peace. He pretended to be fazed by the loss when Dr. Kwon of Wonderland Hospital Sector 1 stopped using his products, and he used that to create a drug scandal, tempt the people of power with the drug and then put them behind bars. He must have felt like a god, using everyone like that in his game.”

“Wow… that’s a lot,” you whistled. “How did you find that out?”

“Mr. Jang and I struck a deal,” he smirked and you gasped in realisation. “We decided to help each other out a little. When I told him there was a possibility that Dr. Ahn was behind all of this, he was all ears. I’ll have to cut him some slack though, where I can.”

“Wicked,” you grinned. “So what’s next?”

“I’ll be prosecuting Mr. Ahn… and he better have the best lawyer in Wonderland to defend him,” Seonghwa smiled. “He can’t get out of this now.”

“It’s going to be over soon, huh?” You wrapped your arms around his waist. “I’m glad it’s over, Seonghwa.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “It’ll take a few weeks and I’ll be busy but… when I’m free from all of this, do you want to go to the beach?”

“You have to make it to the cafe opening first,” you laughed. “It’s next Saturday, you haven’t forgotten, right?”

“Of course not,” he kissed your lips. “I’ll be there.”

He was there, as promised, when you opened the cafe officially. You and Wooyoung felt proud when all your friends and family arrived, admiring the floral exterior with flowers for sale as well, Hongjoong’s soundtrack running in the background, the vintage theme going along with the whole vibe. The first day was as busy as it could have gotten, especially when your friends brought their coworkers and colleagues and a famous blogger came as well. Wooyoung was excellent in the kitchen, working well with the team he’d hired, and you stood as a cashier for the day shift, greeting everyone and giving away flowers, making sure everything was okay.

Siyeon came at night again with the mothers, and when your mother gave you an approving wink, you felt like you had finally done something good to please her. Wooyoung noted that, joining the mothers at the table himself and Siyeon pouted because even her mother loved him. You called Siyeon to where you were standing at the counter.

“If you don’t tell him that he looks hot in the apron or whatever, then I will, because I know that’s what you’re thinking,” you poked her stomach and she glared at you. “Come on. Even I’m dating now. I didn’t realise you were such a coward.”

“He doesn’t like me like that-”

“Trust me, he does. He can’t stop glancing at you whenever you’re around. And he even took you to his apartment to make you taste his dishes! He never does that!”

“That’s only because I have superior taste buds-”

“Shut up, and I better see you both together tonight,” you announced and she muttered curses under her breath which you ignored. At that moment, Wooyoung passed by you two, casually patting Siyeon’s back and you wiggled your brows at her. Wooyoung went into the kitchen and while you two were teasing each other, he came out and told you he was almost out of ingredients, so you should close the cafe for the day- it was almost 10 anyway.

“The first day was a success, right?” You asked and he squeezed your hand.

“Huge success. We did it,” he grinned and you grinned back, going to change the sign on the door and watching Siyeon compliment something. You went outside for air.

You inhaled deeply, feeling a sense of achievement having announced the cafe closed, however… Seonghwa was very late. You wondered where he was-

“Are you not going to let me in?” He came in front of you out of nowhere and you blinked. 

“You’re late!” You pouted. 

“I know, just got held back at the court, but… I bought you something to make up for it.” He took out a box and you narrowed your eyes before you opened it.

“Oh goodness, you really are worse than Hades,” you laughed, making him grin. “Couple rings?”

“Aren’t people into this these days?” He took out your ring, taking your hand and looking at you for permission before sliding it in. You admired the silver band.

“Maybe. I love it, Seonghwa. I really do.”

“Come here,” he hugged you, swaying you back and forth and you got lost in it until Seonghwa paused. “We might have… an audience.”

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered and he snorted as you broke the hug and looked back at not only Siyeon and Wooyoung but also their mothers and your mother watching you both with silly grins plastered on their faces. You waved at them awkwardly.

“Let’s get inside,” he laughed. “I need some coffee.”

“I’ll be right in after a minute,” you said and he kissed your temple, nodding and going inside. You watched him bark orders to Wooyoung who put him in a chokehold, making everyone laugh. You smiled to yourself- with your loved ones enjoying together, it really couldn’t get any better.

—--------------------

Being with Seonghwa now that you both realised that this was not your first life together was a whole different experience. 

You had never envisioned yourself to be with someone who cared so much about you, for starters. You never thought you could meet someone who would understand you even when you didn’t explain, or know what you wanted even when you were not vocal about it. You sometimes found yourself wondering if he was real and you weren’t dreaming, but he was very real, and he was nothing like you had imagined- in the best way possible.

You had to come to terms with the fact that you were indeed living a second life. You spent a lot of days wondering what that meant. You wondered why you remembered it. You would have thought it was insane had you not correlated everything with Seonghwa- who also thought he was going crazy before he talked to you about it that day in your hometown. It was absurd, how you both found each other again, but it was starting to make sense. 

Most of all, you thought about the past. You thought about your life as Persephone- you didn’t have all the memories, of course. Only bits and fragments, and sometimes you’d see a dream that would play out similarly in your present life too. You thought about your mother who still had a similar nature as Demeter, though you were now working out on your differences more. You thought about Hestia and wondered who she was- was she a part of your present life too? She had fulfilled your last wish, after all. You would like to see who she was today, if she was still alive in some sense.

You thought about yourself- the flower goddess who was also the Queen of the Underworld, who could bring the dead to life but also suck the life out of anything alive. You read more about the story on Persephone but found a lot of contradictions and decided to not search anymore, instead letting the truth unfold in your dreams.

You also thought a lot about Hades. Of the cold and mysterious King of the Dead, ruler of the Underworld, who somehow turned out to be the warmest person you knew. He was strong and powerful but he needed you. And that made you feel proud, in a sense. He believed in you and he proved to be right when he thought you could bring life to the Underworld. He loved you like no one else and devoted himself to you.

Perhaps, Seonghwa thought about those things too. He probably did- and you two had made a promise to share whatever dream you’d have of that life, though you found out after a few days that whenever you dreamed, it was together. You couldn’t believe the coincidence and thought you really were meant to be. So you promised instead to not let the events of that life interfere in your present life- after all, that was another time, another world, perhaps. 

That didn’t mean Seonghwa and you didn’t use it to your advantage. You knew what his favourite flowers were, what he liked, how he approached things. He knew that about you too- when to give you space, when to hold you, when to tease you-

“You’re smiling like a fool,” Seonghwa’s lips brushed your ears as he whispered, and you leaned into his touch, digging your feet in the sand as the waves brushed them.

“Just thinking,” you muttered, caressing his arms that were slung around you and shifting in his lap.

“About?”

“Do you wonder where we would be if we didn’t meet each other that day?” You asked, squinting your eyes when the cloud passed by and a ray of sunshine hit the ground.

“Hmm… I do wonder but I get scared at the thought that you could have seriously gotten hurt that day.”

“But I didn’t,” you grinned and he kissed your cheek. 

“We would have met later- it was inevitable if you think about it,” Seonghwa nodded slowly. “We also could have met way before if that fool Wooyoung would have introduced us earlier-”

You laughed. “It’s not his fault. Who would have guessed we could be a thing?”

Seonghwa smiled at that. “Yeah, we have to give him some credit. If we didn’t have a mutual friend, we might not have met after the police station when you came for the witness statement.”

“Well, we might have encountered each other again,” you thought about it. “And we would have texted each other casually or something.”

“True,” Seonghwa nodded. 

“We could have met later, and you could have been dating someone else,” you sighed deeply, making him snicker. “Have you dated before though?”

“It never worked past a few weeks,” he admitted. “I always thought something was missing with the others.”

“But,” you shifted in his lap to face him. “We might have been interested in someone else if it wasn’t for our dreams and coincidences-”

“But that’s not why I was attracted to you now,” he pointed out. “I ignored the dreams- but you look like you’re interested in me because of them,” he narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps you should try dating someone else.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I thought you were hot the minute I saw you. I would have tried to find you one way or another.”

Seonghwa raised a brow. “Is that what you think?”

You nodded eagerly and he laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re too much.”

“Come on,” you poked his chest. “Be candid about this.”

“You want me to be candid about this?” He asked, his gaze changing as he shifted his position, making you lie down on the sand and getting on top of you. He licked his lips as he traced the outline of your face. “I think I would have used any excuse to meet you again- in fact, I knew what I was doing when I got your number the day we met… at least I like to think that I did.”

You laughed at that. “You had no idea back then, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll admit I only got your number because I needed you to come to the station later,” he said. “But… I would have definitely texted you again.”

“So you liked me first, huh?” You teased.

“Well…” he kissed your jaw, letting his lips trail down. “Does it matter?” He kissed your collarbone and you squirmed a bit but he pinned your wrists down and you giggled when the waves crashed and got you wet. “I like where we are now. Do you?”

“Hmm.. kind of, except the sand is getting in my hair,” you sighed loudly and he laughed, kissing your lips. 

“That’s what I like about you,” he shook his head, pecking your lips again. “You’re the most ridiculous and unexpected person in my life.”

“Wow, I’m so flattered,” you pushed him away successfully, kicking his leg before rolling away from him while he grinned. “You’re also the most annoying person in my life. I thought Wooyoung would hold that title forever, but he has some serious competition now.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “You love me.”

You stifled your smile. “I do. What about it?”

He matched your gaze for a few seconds before he hid his face in his hands and you laughed, crawling to him. “What’s the matter?”

You knew what was- he was feeling overwhelmed, just like you did whenever he told you that he loved you. You hugged him tight, kissing his temple and making him look at you.

“I love you, Park Seonghwa. Look me in the eyes when I say it.”

He did and then he captured your lips in a heated kiss, making you arch back, continuing to kiss you and tease you as you lay back down and you thought you couldn’t be anywhere else right now. 

He was there, with you, and it felt like you had another eternity to be with him.

[multifictionx]

jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul

in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post.

➺ bitchin - by @kinktae

summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

➺ hotter than hell - by @chateautae

summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

➺ jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien

summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

➺ too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton

summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

➺ the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts

summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

➺ when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts

summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces

➺ falling - by @starshapedkookie

summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.

➺ love alive - by @jamaisjoons

summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.

➺ changes in between - by @taegularities

summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

➺ falling skies - by @fortunexkookie

summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.

➺ sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild

summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

➺ an abundance of mondays - by @diortae

summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? you’re disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course it’s complicated.” he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasn’t just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.

➺ five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash

summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” Which then becomes five.

➺ here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates

summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.