Tumgik
#and make sure it makes sense and has heart
aurumalatus · 18 hours
Text
𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing. kinich x fem!reader
word count. 700
genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection
summary.
in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.
author's note. this is just a short prologue to show how things end (yay happy endings!), but the two have a lot of trauma to go through before they reach endgame. i love kinich's character and design so i'm excited for this! interaction is highly appreciated :)
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣
Tumblr media
Kinich thinks he’s loved you since forever.
He has no way of proving that, of course; those years are long gone, and even if he had the opportunity to ask, he’s not sure his younger self would have a comprehensible answer. He can only see now that he’s come so far, when the memories are too murky to make sense of but the warmth remains—when he thinks of your smile and feels something akin to the weightlessness of grappling and flying through the trees.
He says “forever” because he really has no idea when it started—the realization came far after the feeling. He’d been before school age when he met you for the first time, and it’s been over a decade since then.
“Kinich!”
Your call interrupts his thoughts, and his gaze is drawn skyward—you’re standing somewhere far above him, on one of the walkways lining the cliffs of the Scions of the Canopy. You’re waving so wildly and ridiculously that it almost makes him smile.
“Are you coming down?” he calls through cupped hands, well-acquainted with this kind of long-distance communication. Sound tends to echo well between the cliffs here, and he’s sure you heard him when you offer an enthusiastic thumbs-up in return. 
“Yup! I bought a few things, so I was hoping you could help me carry them home!”
Kinich rolls his eyes teasingly. “Somehow I doubt that you have enough Mora left to afford my services.”
You pout in reply. Ajaw decides to appear then, a malicious puff of smoke over Kinich’s shoulder. “Of course not! You better not be making fun of me, letting some mortal treat you like a servant! The Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw, won’t take this kind of disrespect—”
Ignoring his wordy introduction, you call down to Kinich again. “I’m coming down! Think fast!”
“—Don’t make me lau—wait, what?!”
Even Ajaw yelps in surprise as you take a running leap off the walkway, freefalling fast down the plane of the cliff. If he were any younger, Kinich might’ve had a heart attack. But you’ve been pushing your luck with him for years, and it comes as instinct when Kinich grapples up, deftly catching you in his arms with a light ‘oof’.
You’re holding a few boxes in your arms, he notices, and you smile. 
“I bought some Puff Pops for us to share later. I was thinking we can do some climbing, or there’s this cave I’ve been meaning to explore.”
His heart does a sort of flip that cannot be attributed to the way you fly through the sky. It’s all so much: the sensation of your warmth pressed against him, the scent of the wind rushing past, and the laughter of his tribe members below. Their eyes shine as they watch the two of you pass above them, chuckling at the familiar sight. 
And really, he can’t remember ever being this happy. When he thinks of how much it took to reach this point, the heartbreak and trauma aren’t the first things to come to mind. Instead, it’s you. The way you held him, the way you cried for him, the way you chased him. Always laughing, always in love.
Too lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice your curious stare for a moment. You poke at his cheek, and he startles, nearly dropping you both.
“Is something wrong?” you ask shyly, suddenly self-conscious of the box in your hands. “We don’t have to do any of that. Really, if you have a high-value job or something, I understand.”
Ajaw decides to butt-in again, reddened with rage. “Yes, all of that sucks! I mean, seriously, don’t you have anything better to do—”
“No, it’s great,” Kinich murmurs in reply, flicking Ajaw away with a strong hand—the Saurian’s roar dissipates with the wind. He holds you tighter against his chest. There’s nothing worth more to him than you. “That all sounds really, really amazing.”
As the two of you burst through the trees, laughing the whole way, he thinks that it doesn’t really matter when he started to love you. All that matters is that he doesn’t stop.
Kinich thinks he’ll love you forever.
264 notes · View notes
swordsandholly · 7 hours
Text
Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anothology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist | cw: oral (reader receiving)
Part Ten: Permission
Tumblr media
A/N: We're SO back!
You’ve never been so happy to work an extra day.
Johnny gets the shop to himself on Sundays for walk-ins. Usually, he mans the shop by himself but you need to record the cash income from the convention in the ledger. Sure, you could do that during your usual hours the upcoming Wednesday and catch up on sleep, but you have too much nervous energy coursing through you. If you were home you would just be stewing on your couch the hole day and probably spiral into a panic attack. At least here, with a task and Johnny yapping in your ear, you don’t have to think about the fact that you made out with your boss too much.
Fuck. You really did that. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
You woke up in a cold sweat, fingers brushing over your lips as you tried to decipher if it was real or dreamed. If you really kissed John, if he really held a hand on your lower back as he walked you home, if he really gave you a second, light peck before saying goodnight. The itch of his beard lingers, as well as the warmth where his hands cupped your face. It felt so good. So fucking good.
Then the context settles in. The fact that you kissed your boss makes you want to throw up - not for any dislike of it, just the fact that your job is now in limbo. Hanging in the balance until you can talk to him on Wednesday. At least you can take the next couple days to collect your thoughts - come up with a good apology that will hopefully let you keep your job and some semblance of dignity. Somehow make sense of the fact that you’ve kissed John and Kyle and surely when they find out they’ll think you’re a floosy. Loose and easy and pathetic and gross. You couldn’t quite meet your own eye in the mirror as you tried to get ready for the day.
The current, formerly “Future You” is not very happy with the now Past You. Frankly, you’d like to deck her for leaving you in this state of a permanent heart attack.
“Och, I’m about tae melt.” Johnny mutters, appearing from his room and stretching. His shirt rides up, exposing a thick happy trail that does not help you in your current spiral.
You just hum, gluing your eyes to the physical spreadsheet in front of you as you go through the sales from the convention. Numbers will clear your head. Yeah, nothing less sexy or more distracting than trying to do math with pen, paper and a TI-84 calculator.
“We should go get some ice cream.” Johnny leans over behind you, causing you to jump. Large hands settle on your shoulders as he rests his chin on the top of your head. At least Johnny is always touchy, you don’t have to read into it. You don’t think you could handle reading into it right now.
“Uh, yeah, okay.” You murmur, letting him lead you out of the office and flipping the out for lunch sign. You’ve been so lost in your head the entire day that you can’t fully pull yourself out of it - the same spiral of fears and self-degradation swirling around in your mind. A Cat 5 tornado of your own making. So stupid.
Johnny intertwines your fingers as you make your way down the street. Your hands swing lightly as you walk. Even with the heat, it doesn’t feel like too much. You’re not sure what it is - of you’re just comfortable or if Johnny just has something about him that makes touch feel perfectly natural - but it’s never overwhelming. Even when he’s hanging off you like a leech, it’s just Johnny. He doesn’t make you talk, doesn’t pry into why you’re so spaced out. He probably just thinks you’re tired. You are tired. So tired.
You don’t realize Johnny is saying something until he gently elbows your side. “Huh?”
“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks with a concerned furrow in his brow.
“Oh, uh, I can get my own-“
”My treat.” He shakes his head, batting away the hand pulling your wallet out of your back pocket. You have no choice but to give in to him - there isn’t any point in arguing with Johnny.
“Thanks for suggesting this.” You murmur, as you sit at one of the wooden, outdoor tables in front of the shop a couple blocks down from the tattoo parlor. The tables are covered in the shade of trees and an awning, luckily, keeping the sun from beating down on you. It doesn’t stop your ice cream from melting nearly faster than you can eat it, but you don’t have the heart to complain after Johnny took you out and bought it for you.
“Aye. Seemed like ye needed some cheerin’ up. Never seen ye so sullen.” Johnny comments, casually stuffing a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. His eyes are sympathetic, though.
“Oh.” You thought you’d been doing alright at hiding it - came into the shop with a jokes and everything this morning. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how much Johnny actually notices between all his volume and energy.
“Gonnae tell me about it?”
“No.”
“Might help.”
You shake your head. “I- I’m- I can’t.”
“Okay.” He smiles gently, giving you a once over. His eyes are so sharp. The others do it too - take your body language in piece by piece. It doesn’t burn like when Johnny does it, though. His gaze is consuming, even when soft.
He seems to let you off the hook, though. It’s impossible to know how much he does or doesn’t know - how much any of them know. It puts you on edge, the inability to ask. After all, to ask is to admit. If you admit to it, you might lose it all. Fuck why did you kiss John? Kyle you can explain away - just a fun little bet. You’re close in age, he’s pretty, you’re together a lot, you get along. Nothing to it - even if it feels like there was. Even if it feels like every time you’re near him you’re going to melt and the air gets too thick and all you want is to pull him to the back room one more time.
John… John you can’t justify like that. He’s your boss. He’s over a decade older than you. Easily. He’s been so good to you but that’s not an excuse - it’s not right. You’re jeopardizing his place in his community. You’re jeopardizing your job. The best job you’ve ever had. The best friends you’ve ever had.
You can feel Johnny glancing at you as you walk, your eyes square on the ground and fists clenched anxiously. The heat outside only makes your head spin faster. Your cheeks feel feverishly hot. The ice cream almost curdles in your gut. Everything is too loud, too hot, too heavy.
You glance up at the clock. The day’s almost over - there probably won’t be more than one or two people that file in at most. You’ve finished with your work, currently just cross hatching on a sticky note in an attempt to calm your frayed nerves. It hasn’t worked. You need a distraction. A real, proper distraction.
“Johnny.” You snap, standing in the door way to his workroom.
“Hm?” He looks up, thick brows raised.
“I want a piercing.”
He cocks his head, taking you in from head to toe. “Aye?”
“If you have time.”
“I’ve always got time fer ye.” He grins.
You almost roll your eyes, but you’re too raw at the edges to really care about his usual flirting. There’s too much weighing on your mind - too much real anxiety knotting itself around your synapses and crushing them in it’s hold. The pain will help. It’ll ground you - sharpen your senses. You can focus on taking care of it for the next couple days between sleeping the days away until Wednesday. Until you can get this shit over with.
The only answer is to quit, right?
That’s your only option.
“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks.
You shrug. “What’d you think?”
He taps his chin, eyes slowly making their way over your body. You wonder if he can see how tense you are - body so locked up your joints ache and your jaw throbs. It’s a wonder your teeth are still there with how much you’ve been grinding them.
“How about a navel?”
“Okay.” You agree too quickly, flopping back on the pairing table. You focus in on a water mark on the ceiling above while Johnny digs through his tool cabinet, laying everything neatly on a small rolling tray.
Johnny stops above you. You don’t even turn your head to look, fists clenching and unclenching.
You’ll have to quit.
That’s your only choice. No reference calls, no contact. Will Simon hate you? Will they all? Will they talk about why you up and left? Will they show up at your apartment to demand an answer? No. You don’t mean that much - only a blip on the timeline of their shop. The corners of your eyes burn.
Johnny’s fingers skate over your soft middle, barely touching as he passes over the button of your jeans. He pauses, glancing down at you. “Bonnie?”
“Yeah?” You reply a little too harshly.
Johnny leans over you, hands on either side of your head, blue eyes burning through your skull. He blocks out the light above. “Yer doin’ this because ye want to, yeah? Not to punish yerself?”
You shrink into the table, hackles raising. It really is so easy to forget that Johnny is an observant bastard. Loud, brash, but he still sees everything. Like how he learned your coffee order by heart without you ever even saying it to him or having it written on the cup. He absorbs things, files it away, keeps it close to his chest and hides it behind his blunt, brash daily manners. You’ll miss him.
“I- yeah, I’m fine.” You wince internally at the shake in your voice.
“Y’know, we all love ye.” Johnny murmurs.
You huff, eyes darting anywhere to get away from his. Laying on the table suddenly feels slightly trapping. You can’t get your gaze fully away from where he stands over you - so close as his thick arms cage you in. “Guess so.”
“An’ there’s nothin’ tae feel guilty or bad about.”
Your eyes snap to his face, wide and worried. Does he know? Was he told? Do you ask? If you ask, you’ll be admitting to it. If you ask, then he will know for sure. If you ask, you might ruin it all. “I don’t-“
“Ye do.” He cuts you off. “An’ ye have permission, even if ye dinnae need it. It’s okay. Ye havennae done anythin’ wrong.”
You stare, mouth opening and closing lamely. Johnny. Straight forward, loud mouth, unsubtle Johnny. Fuck, you love him for it. Doesn’t dance around what he means. Doesn’t avoid what needs to be said - from his end, at least.
“Did- did you talk to-?” You stutter, struggling between needing to know and fear to admit the truth so blatantly. Even if he obviously knows something.
“Not really. Not my business.” Johnny shrugs casually.
Not his business. So they persue separately, you think. That makes sense. Probably. It’s probably wrong to make assumptions about the dynamic, about the implication that they have some sort of free for all. Then again, you don’t really know anything about their interpersonal workings much. They live together, they’re touchy. The dynamic is a mystery to you - only adding to the piles of confusion.
“Yer thinkin’ tae hard about it.” He pokes the furrow between your brows.
Oh. Is that it? You’re overthinking? No, adults talk about these things. You don’t understand the interpersonal workings here at all. Are they together? Do they just do this? Pull girls in and push them around until they get tired? That feels too cruel for them. They’ve taken such good care of you…
“I still… want to talk.” You murmur, cheeks warm.
His face softens, a light smile tugging at his lips. “An’ ye will. Kyle’s been damn near loosin’ it with ye avoiding him.”
“I’m not avoiding him!” You snap far too defensively.
“Sure ye aren’t.” Johnny shrugs, as if to tell you he knows that’s bull. Not his business, though, he said. “Just… donnae be so scared of us, aye? We’ve got yer back.”
Your shoulders drop, sore from being tensed for the entire day. “Okay.”
“Still want tae get peirced?”
You nod, chest far less tight. As though you finally let go of a breath you had been holding the entire day. “Sure, why not.”
Your shoulders slump as Johnny makes his way through the usual song and dance - showing you the freshly cleaned tools and marking the spot for the needle. Somehow the world seems… quieter. As if all the chatter in your mind had been just as deafening to your physical ears. It’s tiring. That same sting behind your eyes that you get after a long night out. Your defenses are down, and your body is finally at rest.
“Ow!” You gasp, lifting your head to meet Johnny’s impish grin with a glare. “A little warning next time!”
“Tha’s what happens when ye donnae listen.” He teases, slipping the jewelry through. “She’s cute.”
You snort. “She better be. Y’know I should tell John on you for improper conduct.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Aye, ye an’ Price know plenty about improper conduct.”
There’s no malice in the comment, or in the grin he settles on you. For once, you don’t freeze up. Don’t send yourself into a panic spiral over what he knows or thinks or feels. Johnny made himself clear. Instead you land a light smack against his arm and huff in embarrassment.
“Stand f’me.” Johnny murmurs after cleaning the piercing, a heat in his eyes that you can’t quite gauge the source of.
You do as you’re told, slipping off the table. You have to hook a finger into the waistband of your jeans to keep them up, cheeks hot as you realize how much is actually exposed with the fully undone fly. You glance up at a far too pleased Johnny. Didn’t even say a word, the mischievous bastard.
He drops to his knees in front of you. Your brows shoot damn near into the sky. Johnny mumbles something about making sure the piercing is sitting right. You roll with it, knowing he’s probably just saying whatever to get you to keep your pants undone a little longer. Your breath quickens as a large, warm hand flattens itself over your soft belly, unabashedly groping. Not that you mind, really, even if it does make your face so hot it might melt.
Your heart almost breaks out of your rib cage when he places a small kiss next to the piercing. His hand lowers, resting beside yours on the waistband of your jeans.
“May I?” Johnny murmurs, big blue eyes blinking up at you.
You have permission.
You don’t need permission.
You have it, though.
“Yeah.” You gasp, shivering at the cold air on your skin as Johnny pulls your pants halfway down your thighs.
“Pretty, pretty lass.” He murmurs, nipping at the softness of your belly and down to your thigh. “Look at ye.”
“Flatterer.” You scoff, attempting to let the tension melt off your shoulders with the usual snide remarks you slide each others way.
“M’just honest…” Johnny mumbles absently, fingers catching in the hems of your underwear. “Ye always walkin’ around in somethin’ this skintie?”
For a moment, your brows knit in confusion. That is until he pulls back and snaps the string of your thong against your hip. Your face somehow gets even hotter and you grumble out a poor excuse of, “S’laundry day…”
Your hips twitch as he traces between your lips through the cloth. So uncharacteristically slow and methodical for Johnny as he feels you, like he’s trying to memorize it. A shamefully harsh jolt runs up your spine as he presses just slightly into your clit.
“Sensitive little thing.” Johnny grins up at you. You swear the devil has a less delinquent grin.
“It’s been a while.” You shrug, aiming once again for casual and missing by a mile.
His grin only grows, eyes bright and hungry. “Let’s get these off.”
You shimmy your hips a bit to help him get both your underwear and jeans completely down. A wave of shyness overtakes you as it settles in that you’re utterly exposed to Johnny, your friend and coworker, in the middle of your workplace just as the sun has begun to edge down close to the horizon. It’s almost too much, and you almost yank your pants back on with a stammered, fake excuse, but Johnny soothes his hands up your thighs, gaze locked onto your pussy like it’s the only thing that exists and yeah… you want that.
You have permission.
“There she is.” He cups you gently, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit just hard enough to make you gasp.
Before you can say or do anything his hand retracts and Johnny settles you with the most serious look you’ve ever seen from him. It looks wrong, almost, on that face that’s supposed to have a permanent ear to ear grin.
“If ye want tae stop, I need ye tae tell me now.”
“No.” The word leaves you before you can even register the thought - desperate and breathy.
It earns a low chuckle. The only warning you get before Johnny licks a long stripe up between your lips, letting his tongue rest on your clit for just a moment before repeating the motion as though he’s not just eating you out but truly trying to truly get a taste for you. To memorize you as he drinks you in.
“Should let me give you a Christina…” He murmurs, pulling back to look at you.
“Ah, wha-“
“Look so pretty on this fat little cunt.” Johnny gives you a light smack for good measure, grinning at the visible jolt that travels up your spine before diving back in. He hooks a leg over his shoulder, leaving you balancing on your tip toes with your hands flat on the table behind you. It’s precarious and with absolutely no room to escape the attention he’s lavishing on you. It’s almost desperate, the way he moves. The way he devours. A man utterly starved.
“Fuck-“ you gasp as his tongue piercing catches your clit. Rough hands knead at the softness of your thighs and hips, urging you to press into him, to take as much as he’s giving.
“Tha’s it, ride m’face…” Your fingers lock into his mohawk and Johnny’s slurred words become the most pornographic moan you think you’ve ever heard. He practically goes limp - body relaxed and pliant while you grind down onto his tongue.
You tilt your head forward, risking looking down only to meet those big blue eyes staring up at you with all the intensity of the sun. A shaky moan passes your lips and his eyes flutter.
“J-Johnny-” The whine of his name only spurs him on - has him pressing his tongue so deep inside you and drinking you in full.
If he has any complaints about the way your heel digs between his shoulder blades as you unconsciously pull him closer, he doesn’t make it known. His nails rake over your ass, biting and stinging in contrast to everything else. It’s so much. Heat continues to pool at the base of your spine - babbling words, please and moans spill messily from your lips.
Your climax catches you off guard as Johnny sucks harshly at your clit; lighting your body aflame with only his mouth. Every muscle inside you tenses and the sounds you let out can only be described as strangled whines.
You have to yank a little at Johnny’s hair to get him to stop when the overstimulation reaches just the wrong side of too much; he’s well and truly lost in the moment. It fuels your ego to dangerous heights - the idea that this gorgeous man became that intoxicated just from your pussy.
There isn’t even time to say anything before Johnny is standing and connecting his lips with yours. You taste yourself on his tongue, his lips - somehow this is the first time you’ve found that pleasant. With heavy breaths you watch him wipe around his mouth his his palm, only to exaggeratedly lick and clean what’s left off his hand. Fucking sinful.
“Nasty man.” You sigh, too blissed out to be truly critical. Johnny winks and you roll your eyes.
“S’about quittin’ time.” He says, tilting his head to look up at you through thick lashes. “Should get ye home.”
You frown, still trying to come back to earth as you glance down. “Don’t- do you want-?”
He looks you over, your mouth goes dry as his hand drops from your hip to adjust himself. The implications of the outline through his thick denim has your head reeling and your breath quickening. Johnny chuckles at you, surely seeing it written plain across your face. You might as well start drooling and panting like a dog.
He buries his nose into the crook of your neck to nip at your skin. “Another time. Want tae savor ye.”
You shiver, unable to stop the smile that quirks up the corners of your lips. You have permission. You don’t need it, but you have it.
A/N: Sorry if this is a little rough, I'm getting back into the swing of things. It's finally time for things to get fun, tho ;)
Also please give some love to this AMAZING fanart from @eurydicescurse
325 notes · View notes
smileysuh · 12 hours
Text
knight of roses
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. The Knight of Roses looks so beautiful as he says his piece, and the idea that he’s already committed to you is one that makes your heart race in your chest. He’s so beautiful- and you’ve tried to deny it for too long. You hate being the girl who falls for the same man that everyone else has their eye on, and Jaehyun has no lack of suitors, especially in court. However, you suppose there’s always legitimacy in the looks of a man who has captured the hearts of many.
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, virgin!reader, first time, dirty talk, praise, power imbalance, Jaehyun unties her stupidly royal corset, armor removal, hand job, pussy eating, fingering, stretching out, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k 
🍭 aus. Fantasy au, fairy au, royal au, knight!Jaehyun, princess!y/n, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So this is a fae au, but that’s more the kingdom fantasy side than any overt faerie wings or powers- Jaehyun’s hair is naturally pink, and Yuta has white hair, so that’s going to be the extent of the faerie aesthetic in this- I just wanted to do something royal, and I wanted a unique kingdom set up :) 
Tumblr media
Prologue:
Tourneys of this caliber are unusual. The northern reaches that expand through the Winter kingdom, as well as the Fall lands in the West, are known for their bad weather, not for their celebrations. While the Spring Royals host events, it’s with little regularity. No, this kind of lengthy drinking and fighting fest is a uniquely Summer type of pride and joy. 
It’s the Summer Kingdom’s Prince John’s birthday, and only a princely celebration could merit the expense of this sort of event. 
All the royals, from all four reaches, are here, as well as a host of knights from all sorts of families. Everyone is intent on proving themselves, but none more so than the Princes Yuta from the North, and Doyoung from the West. 
The Winter Prince has a reputation for upholding the traits of his house. He’s fierce, white-haired, and hardened from the cold temperatures and unforgiving terrain he was made in.
The Fall Prince carries some of those more ‘Northern’ aspects, however, where Yuta is more brazen, Doyoung is regal in every sense of the word. His motions are calculated, his blade as sharp as his eyes.
They’re both formidable fighters as the tourney day drags on, however, another favourite has emerged in the past two days that has shocked everyone. ‘The Knight of Roses’ they call him, in reference to the emblem on his chest plate, a man from a lesser house in the Eastern lands.
With pretty pink locks, this Jeong Jaehyun has stolen the hearts of many, however, you’re not so easily swayed, and your brother, John, knows it.
“Who will you be giving your favour to?” Johnny asks, leaning on his watching throne to get closer to you in the royal box where your family sits to watch the tourney.
“I’m not sure yet,” you admit, although, your gaze shifts to Prince Yuta as he pulls on his black dragon helm. 
“Don’t even think about it,” Johnny grins. “Yuta is a savage. You don’t want him to get any ideas.”
“Ideas?” you counter with a smirk.
“First it’s your favour he asks for, then it’s your hand,” Johnny points out.
“I’m too young to marry,” you insist. “Maybe I’ll never take a husband.”
Johnny sighs. It’s a well-known fact within your close family that you don’t want to adhere to political protocols. You have a wildness in your heart, and your mother has always attributed it to a touch of winter that had coldened her family line many years ago. 
“But if you must, it can’t be Yuta,” Johnny says firmly. “The North might be exciting now, but summer and winter don’t mix well. You might think of yourself as a savage, with your sword-wielding, and your dislike for ‘things befit of a princess,’ but you’re still too sweet for a man like him, believe me on that.”
Your lips pull tight, and you refuse to respond, focusing your attention on the tourney as the announcer begins to read out the names of competitors.
Yuta is one of the first, as is his right as a royal, and he approaches the elevated stand you’re sitting on. “I’m hoping for a favor, from the princess,” he says loudly, holding out his joust.
You stand, holding a small garland of wildflowers picked from the King’s wood. “Good luck, Prince Yuta,” you call, leaning over the rail to toss your favor onto his joust.
Yuta nods respectfully, and you’re taken by his striking eyes.
You go back to sit with your brother and he lets out an annoyed sound, but doesn’t pester you further.
Soon, the final tournament, the last of three days, is beginning.
You’re glued to your seat for all of it, eyes fixed on the commotion as rider after rider is bested. The royals hold their own, but once again, the Knight of Roses shows off his skills with a joust, defeating Prince Doyoung in the semi-finals.
You feel, as Yuta and Jaehyun size each other up, that the victor should be obvious, you’d given him your favour after all- however, the day ends with your bet not paying off.
The Knight of Roses finishes on top, and as you and your brother leave to head to the final departing feast, Johnny pulls you close. “That Jaehyun guy is no joke,” he muses. “I want him in my court.”
Tumblr media
One:
“In light of our mother and father going to The Bright Lands,” your brother sighs as he’s fitted into his coronation robe, “I think it’s best you finally get a proper bodyguard.”
“Jungwoo is doing the job just fine,” you muse, fingers clicking on your glass of wine while numerous maids fuss over the future king. 
“Jungwoo is my guard,” Johnny corrects. “And now that I’m about to be correnated, I want him back. He was a loan.”
“A loan,” you laugh. 
“I knew you wouldn’t agree to a new guard, but in an hour, I’ll be your king, so you’re going to make this easy on me, okay?”
You roll your eyes, but you don’t protest. “And who are you planning on assigning to baby sit me?”
“The Knight of Roses.”
Your heart skips a beat.
It’s been five years since Johnny recruited Jaehyun to come to your palace and train. Five years of you seeing the pink-haired man work at becoming an even better swordsman. Part of you had assumed that Jaehyun would step into the role of Johnny’s protector, not your own.
“I don’t need him,” you say.
“Yes, you do,” Johnny sighs. “Trust me, I think you’ll like his style of protection.”
With one last flair of his furred robe, Johnny turns to the door, and it’s clear the conversation is over.
The two of you exit his royal chambers, and you’re immediately flanked by guards. Jaehyun falls into step right behind you, and you do your best to ignore him as you make your way to the grand hall.
The Knight of Roses sticks to your side the entire ceremony, and it’s hard to focus on your brother with this pretty, pink-haired man practically breathing down your neck.
You’re ready for some alone time as the coronation closes. Tonight marks the eve of a three-day celebration to solidify the start of your brother’s reign, and you know you’ll have many duties in the coming seventy-two hours. You can skip the feast, especially while Johnny is swarmed in the great hall at the dining table.
As you slip away, you’re cognisant of the spring shadow following you. He’s silent, and you appreciate that as you make your way to your room. Once in the safety of your bed chamber, Jaehyun waits outside respectfully.
Two handmaidens join you, and they’re a little shocked at your request to be helped with putting on the armor your father had gifted to you three years ago. He’d known at that time that there was no way of squashing your wild heart, so he’d made sure you’d have the proper gear to protect yourself if you decided to live dangerously.
You exit your room fully adorned in royal armor. It’s similar to your elder brother’s, all golden, and stamped with the Summer house’s royal sunshine mark.
Jaehyun continues to say nothing, continues to shadow you as you make your way down to the courtyard and into the King’s wood. 
It wouldn’t be ‘becoming’ for you to practice swordsmanship where others could see you, so your father had made a training section of sorts for you a short way into the treeline, in a clearing where you’ve since spent many hours.
You expect Jaehyun to continue his silent streak as you approach a practice dummy, expect him to sit back and watch you the way Jungwoo always has- but as you ready your first blow, Jaehyun speaks his first words. “Do you come train here often, Princess?”
You pause, turning to look at your spring shadow. “Excuse me?”
“This practice site, is it yours?”
“Yes,” you respond, striking the practice dummy, “it’s mine.” You hear something of a scoff- or maybe a smile, and you turn to find the pink-haired man grinning. “What?”
“King John said you’re an unusual girl, but I never expected this.”
“Sorry to ruin your expectations,” you sigh, lining yourself up to take another hit at your training dummy.
“Has anyone ever given you any formal training, Princess?” Jaehyun asks next, stepping toward you.
“Johnny has tried to teach me a few times,” you confess.
“Are you open to pointers, Princess?” 
You let out a deep sigh. “My last guard would simply watch.”
Jaehyun nods, looking down at the ground. It’s clear he’s going to drop this, that he’s taken your response as a rejection. You’re his Princess, he won’t question you, and you kind of like it. But, at the same time, as you begin to hack at the dummy, you wonder what Jaehyun might be able to provide for you that Jungwoo couldn’t, or maybe wouldn’t. 
The Knight Of Roses has proven himself, and his swordsmanship, many times over. There are worse people you could accept constructive criticism from.
“Fine,” you sigh. “What am I doing wrong?”
Tumblr media
Two:
You’re elated from your impromptu training session with Jaehyun. After allowing him to teach you a few tips, you’d sparred for an hour or so before he’d insisted it would be a good idea to go back to the banquet. So here you are, all tightened in your gown and corset, your heart racing every time you think of how much you’ve just learned from your new protector.
Your brother is seated next to you, and as the dinner commotion quiets down a little, he leans closer to you. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
Johnny scoffs at your one-word response, his eyes shifting to the guard behind you, to the great hall full of people there to celebrate his coronation. “How do you feel about the familiar faces here tonight?”
You sigh, knowing who he means. Prince Doyoung and Prince Yuta are seated at their royal tables, one poised, the other relaxed and holding a cup of wine between his fingers.
“We just had a royal wedding,” you muse, looking at Johnny’s new wife as she sits on his left. 
“And as much as I like the Spring King, I don’t need Taeyond as a brother-in-law twice over,” Johnny agrees. “I remember a few years ago, you had an eye on Prince Yuta.” 
“That was a few years ago.”
Johnny nods, and he looks contemplative for a few seconds. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. You’re a summer child, but there’s always been an untamable side to you.”
“I appreciate that.”
“However,” Johnny lifts his fingers to his lips, leaning his elbow on his large chair. “I would like for you to dance with a few people tonight.”
“And what would be the point in that?” you counter.
Johnny shrugs. “Fun? Intrinsic value? Because your older brother, and King, wants to see you smile?”
“I doubt many of these men could make me smile.” 
Jaehyun is close behind you, and he listens to this exchange, a smug grin working it’s way onto his face. As familiar as he is with Johnny, it’s clear your brother doesn’t know very much about you. If he wishes to see you smile, he just has to see you with a sword in your hand.
The Knight of Roses has always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you dressed in full royal armor, wielding a blade- he’d realized that was your element. You’re happiest while battling, unladylike sweat dripping from your brow, eyes fixed on your task, the smell of deep concentration practically wafting off of you. 
Jaehyun would be lying if he said he wasn’t affected by the small training session that had just taken place. He wasn’t sure how to gauge what your relationship as princess and guard would be like, but now- if tonight was any suggestion of what’s to come- he thinks this might suit him just perfectly.
The feast is cleared away by servants, and large tables are pushed to the sides of the great hall to make way for dancing. 
Jaehyun shifts on his feet as he watches, holding his breath at what’s to come.
He’s not surprised when Prince Yuta approaches the royal table. 
“King John, Princess,” he nods, his gaze lingering on you, “I was wondering if I might have this dance.”
For something of a winter savage, Prince Yuta can be surprisingly well-mannered when he wants to be, and it’s no shock when you stand to your feet, allowing the man from the North to pull you to the dance floor.
Each kingdom has its own color scheme. While Fall is depicted with bronze and blue, Jaehyun’s own kingdom sports rose gold and green. Yuta however, is silver and black, and it is starkly contrasted by your gold and white dress. The two of you stick out like a sore thumb on the great hall floor, and there are many eyes that watch you humour the prince from the North with a dance.
Jaehyun has his opinions about this potential union, but he’ll keep them to himself.
Tumblr media
Three:
It’s the second day of Johnny’s coronation celebration. The Summer equinox is approaching tomorrow, and the days are long. The sun is hot, and it makes you sweat in your suit of armor as you and Jaehyun train by the lake in the King’s Wood.
There had been a tourney today, and you’d slipped away from the crowds to find a spare hour or two before the nightly banquet. You’re aware that you’ve been sparring for some time already, and the summer heat is making you exhausted faster than you’d anticipated.
With a sigh, you let your sword fall to your side, and your guard immediately mirrors the movement. “I think I’m done for the day,” you muse.
“As you wish, Princess,” Jaehyun nods. 
You pull off one of your armored gloves as you move closer to the rocky shore of the lake. “Come sit with me.” 
Jaehyun nods again, following you.
He’s quick to unclip his rose gold and green embroidered cape, setting it along the rocks for you to sit on. You and Jaehyun have found a way to communicate with motions more so than words, and you nod a thank you to him as you get seated. 
You release a sigh as you continue to take off parts of your armor, relieved by the coolness that washes over your skin after being cooped up for an hour.
“I have something to ask you,” you tell him.
“Whatever you need, Princess.”
He’s still standing, and you sigh. “Sit.” Jaehyun does as he’s told. “I’m sure you noticed me dancing with Prince Yuta last night.”
“I think it’s safe to say everyone noticed,” Jaehyun nods.
“I know what is expected of me as a princess, and I guess I’m wondering what your feelings are on love and marriage?”
Jaehyun looks out at the lake, and he’s quiet for a moment while you assess him. 
“I don’t have the same pressures that you do when it comes to marriage,” Jaehyun admits. “I’m your guard, my only duty- my only commitment, is protecting you, and even though it’s only been two days, I think I can be content with that.”
The Knight of Roses looks so beautiful as he says his piece, and the idea that he’s already committed to you is one that makes your heart race in your chest. He’s so beautiful- and you’ve tried to deny it for too long. You hate being the girl who falls for the same man that everyone else has their eye on, and Jaehyun has no lack of suitors, especially in court. However, you suppose there’s always legitimacy in the looks of a man who has captured the hearts of many.
“Thank you for saying that,” you nod finally. 
“How about you, Princess? If I might ask… what are you thinking about your future?”
“My brother says he won’t pressure me, so for now, I think I’ll just lean on that,” you admit, letting out a sigh. “For now, I want to be free.”
You stand up abruptly, and Jaehyun is quick to his feet as well, looking at you with a question in his eyes.
“Help me take my armour off,” you tell him. “I’m going for a swim.”
“Excuse me, Princess?” Jaehyun freezes, and you can see a hint of pink blossoming on his skin.
“I’m going for a swim,” you repeat. “I want to be one with the water. It’s good for your muscles after training.”
“But- you have nothing to wear-”
“So I’ll wear nothing,” you say simply. “We’re in my brother’s King’s Wood, no one will come here, only royals can, and every royal has been drinking since this morning. We’re alone, and I wish to be free.” 
Jaehyun lets out a breath. “Respectfully, Princess, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Regardless of his words, Jaehyun begins to help you take off your armor.
You’re wearing a white shirt and pants beneath your metal plating, and Jaehyun’s gentle as he helps undress you. When it comes down to the final layers, Jaehyun bows his head and turns around, giving you privacy to get naked on the banks of the lake.
You find it comical how respectful he is, and you kind of love it as you strip completely and step into the water. The summer heat has made the temperature seasonably warm, so it feels lovely on your skin as you wade in.
Once shoulder deep, you begin to swim, and when you turn back to the shore, you find Jaehyun watching you.
He’s standing there, guardian you from afar.
You know there’s no way he would join you, so you don’t bother to ask. Instead, you just enjoy the water, allowing your muscles to relax, your body decompressing. 
Once you’ve had your fill, you begin to swim back to shore- and that’s when you notice motion in the treeline.
Jaehyun is quick to turn around, and you watch as Prince Yuta stalks onto the beach, taking one look at your guard, and then at you in the water. 
“What is this?” Yuta asks loudly.
“The Princess wanted to go for a swim,” Jaehyun responds calmly.
You can see Yuta’s gaze shift to your pile of clothes, and even from a distance, you note the change in his expression.
“And you let her go for a swim?” The Prince from the North growls. 
“I don’t let my Princess do anything, that’s not my job,” Jaehyun retorts.
“Your job is to protect her. Her body, her virtue as a princess- Do you have any idea what future suitors might think if they were to find out about this?!” Yuta is yelling now, and it sets your teeth on edge.
This is one of the first times you’ve seen his brash, hot-headed winter features in a situation outside of a tourney, and you’re beginning to see what your brother has always meant when he said Yuta wouldn’t be good for you.
“If my future suitors are so pigheaded that they judge a swim in the lake in my brother’s King’s Wood, then they aren’t good suitors to begin with,” you yell back. “Maybe I never want to get married! And I won’t marry any man just because he’s royal or it’s expected!”
Yuta stares at you in shock, lips parting then closing again- it’s clear he’s at a loss for words. Finally, with a scoff, he turns and leaves, a flurry of black and silver as he gets back on his horse, disappearing into the trees.
Jaehyun’s shoulders relax when the Prince departs, and he turns to look at you in the water. He doesn’t say anything, but you get the feeling that he’d wished you’d stayed out of the altercation.
“Are you almost done in there, Princess?” he calls.
“Uh huh.”
“I’ll grab a blanket from my horse,” Jaehyun announces, swiftly turning. 
He comes back with the blanket, and you watch Jaehyun close his eyes as he holds it outstretched for you. You wade back to the bank, cognizant of your nakedness as you allow yourself to approach your guard.
You take the blanket from him, wrapping it around your body to dry yourself. 
His eyes are still closed. Jaehyun is so pure- you’re little Knight of Roses. 
“How, may I ask, are you protecting me if you can’t see?” you ask.
“I’m listening to the forest,” Jaehyun responds softly. 
You admire his beautiful face, and you can’t help but lean forward, slowly closing the distance between the two of you, testing his ability to sense things-
Jaehyun takes a step back, brows furrowing. “What are you doing?”
“Just testing you,” you muse, leaning back and taking a breath. “I’ll put my clothes back on now, then you can help me with my armor before we go back.”
You hope Yuta hasn’t made a scene about all of this, but only time will tell. 
Tumblr media
Four:
Jaehyun supposes he’s getting used to the sight of you dancing with other princes, and it’s easy for him to ignore the feeling bubbling inside of him, his mind wandering to what had just happened an hour ago at the lake.
“Jaehyun,” Johnny’s voice drags the knight away from his watch. The King makes a motion for Jaehyun to lean closer, so he does. “I heard something happened in the King’s Wood.”
“What did you hear, your highness?” Jaehyun asks.
“The Prince from the North came to talk to me, he gave me a warning about my favorite knight stealing the virtue of my sister.” 
Jaehyun’s skin runs cold. “You Highness- nothing happened, on my life, on my honor- your sister wanted to go for a swim, I kept my eyes shut-”
“I never doubted you,” Johnny interrupts, waving his hand. “Although, I do see the way you two look at each other… I don’t want to force my sister into anything, let alone a loveless marriage.”
Jaehyun considers his King’s words. It almost sounds like Johnny is giving Jaehyun permission to court you. 
“Anyways, I trust you.” Johnny leans back in his chair. “There’s a reason I chose you to be her protector, and what is a husband if not the ultimate protector?” 
Jaehyun wonders if he’s something of a knight in shining armour to you, roses and all.
“I appreciate what you’ve said, your Highness,” Jaehyun nods, and they both shift their gazes back to the dance floor where you’re wrapped up in Prince Doyoung.
It’s clear to Jaehyun that the smile on your face is fake. He’s seen your real smile, when you’re wielding a blade. You haven’t been faking it with Jaehyun, and he hasn’t been faking it with you.
“Jungwoo?” Johnny’s voice disrupts Jaehyun’s thoughts. “If you wouldn’t mind cutting in with my sister, it looks like Lord JYP is about to ask her to dance, and he’s much too old for her. I think she deserves a savior.”
Tumblr media
Five:
You focus on your breath, trying to anticipate Jaehyun’s movements. He’s hard to read, even though you’ve done your best to recougnize his tells. The Knight of Roses might put his weight onto his left foot, only to lunge from the right.
He’s very adept at this, and you think you must have gotten better in these past few days at swordsmanship than you have since you picked up a sword.
You’re entirely focused on Jaehyun, so focused, that when he suddenly pauses, you don’t know what’s happening. That’s when you feel a presence behind you, and you swing to find the Fall Prince standing there.
“So this is where you run off to every day,” Doyoung muses, sizing you up. “You’re quite good with a sword, Princess.”
“Thank you,” you nod, a little shocked that he’s praising such a non lady like pass time. 
“Your brother, the King, told me where I might find you,” the Prince explains. “I’ve come with an offer.”
Your heart sinks in your chest, and your gaze shifts to Jaehyun. He’s looking at the ground, doing his best to be respectful of this royal exchange while still manning his post.
“I’ve noticed Prince Yuta’s interest in you,” Doyoung starts, “and I’m civilized enough, even as a man from the Eastern reaches, to know that no summer girl should be thrown to those Northern wolves. A union of the Fall or Spring kingdoms would be better suited for you, and since your brother just married into the Spring’s royal line, I feel as if I might be the next best option for you.”
You swallow thickly. There’s a “No” that bubbles along the back of your tongue, willing to be let out- but despite your distaste for political things, you’ve been trained well enough to know not to be so blunt with the Fall Prince.
“Thank you for your offer,” you say curtly. “I’ll have to consider your proposal. I can’t make any decisions without first discussing them with my King.”
Doyoung nods. “I understand. Thank you for your time, Princess.” He reaches for your hand next, and you allow him to bring your armoured fingers to his lips.
You watch as Doyoung leaves, and once he’s gone, you let out a deep breath.
“Are you alright, Princess?” Jaehyun asks.
“Just flustered,” you admit. “I’m impressed by his confidence to ask for my hand like that. I’ve always liked a man who knows what he wants... I might be a princess who swings her sword and swims naked and free- but I’m still just a girl who wants to be pursued, to be wanted- for more than just a political alliance.”
Tumblr media
Six:
It’s been such a short time that Jaehyun’s been guarding you, but already, you’ve opened up to him numerous times. He’s beginning to understand you, and his feelings for you have been growing in a way he could have never imagined.
He can’t get the thought of what you’d said about being courted out of his head.
You want to be pursued, to be wanted- for more than your name, your title, your family- You want something real, and as much as Jaehyun’s never wanted to admit it to himself, he’s wanted the same.
He’s had hundreds of women throw themselves at him at this point- but they always liked him for his exterior, nothing more. 
The two of you are like different sides of the same coin. Wanted, admired- you for your rank, and him for his looks. It’s a difficult way to go through life, to feel like you’re never truly being seen.
But Jaehyun sees you, the real you, the you that you only show in your vulnerable moments. As fearsome as you think you are when you’re wielding your sword, there’s a side of you that is also open to being taught new things, and the ferocity in your approach to protecting yourself is more than admirable to the Knight of Roses.
He’s deep in thought, but his eyes never leave you as you dance around the great hall for the final night of the celebration, an endless line of suitors waiting for a turn at the Summer Princess.
There’s a flash of bronze, and Prince Doyoung catches Jaehyun’s gaze. The regal man from the West is cutting through the crowd, side stepping the line as is his right as a royal. 
There’s no doubt in Jaehyun’s mind as to what Doyoung wants to discuss as he cuts into your dance, and your guard sees the micromovements in your brow, the twitch of your lips as your smile momentarily falters.
Even so, you accept the prince’s offer of a dance, and Jaehyun broods while he watches.
Was it not just yesterday that King John asked Jungwoo to step in between you and a high born for a dance?
Jaehyun’s gaze shifts to the King, and something inside of him snaps. 
It’s the Knight of Roses’ duty to protect you, and maybe he’s let this farce of a party drag out too long. John won’t be mad at him for finally stepping in, of that, Jaehyun is certain as he steps down from his post.
People part to allow the armoured knight to pass, and Jaehyun can hear the blood rushing to his ears as he closes the distance between himself and you.
He stops just a foot short of you and the Prince, both of you looking at him with questioning eyes.
“May I cut in?” Jaehyun asks, and he’s pleased that his voice sounds more confident than he feels.
“I-” Doyoung opens his mouth, but you’re quick to cut him off, “You may.” 
There’s a clear anger in the Fall Prince’s expression as he reluctantly relinquishes you to your guard, and there’s a curious arch of your brow as Jaehyun takes you in his arms.
“What was that about?” you ask, once Doyoung has retreated.
“I thought you looked like you needed to be saved.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” you question with a grin. “Saving me?”
“It’s my duty, Princess.”
You narrow your eyes at him, and then you laugh. “Maybe you’re just jealous. Are you jealous, my good knight?”
Jaehyun tries to act innocent, to pretend the idea is stupid, but his scoff lacks conviction, and it’s clear you both know it.
“There’s something I have to tell you-” Jaehyun starts, but you cut him off in very much the same way you had the Prince just seconds ago. 
“Not here, not now, not with all of these eyes,” you whisper. “I thank you for saving me from this dance, I think the night ends here for me.”
Jaehyun nods, releasing you and stepping back respectfully.
You turn to head back up to your King, and Jaehyun follows three steps back.
“John,” you say, skipping the formalities for your older brother, “I’ve grown tired, and I’d like to go back to my room.”
“As you wish,” Johnny brushes it off, his gaze fixed on the great hall infront of him.
“Please tell Prince Doyoung that I reject his offer of marriage,” you continue, and this draws the attention of the King. “Would you let him know that I’d like to stay in the Summer Kingdom, at least for a little while longer, before I make any big decisions.” 
John looks between you and Jaehyun, who averts his eyes. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” You look so determined, so powerful as you stare down at your older brother, and in that moment, Jaehyun is proud of you. He’s proud of how much you’ve grown in the years since he first came to your Summer court- proud of the way you’re obviously following your own heart now that your brother is on the throne and allows it.
However, something tells Jaehyun that even if Johnny wasn’t so supportive of you, you’d still be making waves for yourself.
“I’ll talk with Doyoung,” John says finally. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” You curtsey for your king, and then you’re swiftly leaving the great hall with your knight closely behind you. 
The walk to your quarters feels dualistically long and short at the same time. Jaehyun’s mind is running a thousand miles per minute, and his heart is racing like it only does when he’s fighting.
He stops just outside your room, and you look back at him. “Well? Aren’t you coming inside?”
“I-”
“Come.” You leave no room for argument, and Jaehyun nods before stepping after you, closing the door.
“Well?” you ask, heading to your nightstand to pour yourself a chalice of water. “What did you want to say to me?”
“Hmm?”
“Just now, when you cut into my dance with the Fall Prince, it looked like you had something important to tell me.”
In the heat of the moment, seeing you with Doyoung had spurred something inside of Jaehyun, but now, in the privacy of your quarters, the Knight of Roses feels tongue tied. 
“Princess-” Jaehyun swallows thickly, and you set down your cup to move closer to him.
He can’t meet your gaze, so he looks at the floor, and he watches as you reach out to take his hand.
“Talk to me,” you plead, your voice near a whisper.
Jaehyun looks up at you.
Gods, you’re so beautiful. He likes you in your armour, but the dress you’d chosen for the final evening of your brother’s coronation celebration is truly ethereal, and Jaehyun thinks he may have never seen a prettier sight in all of his life.
Your gaze shifts to his lips, and Jaehyun’s breath catches. 
You move closer- like you had at the lake yesterday-
There’s a knock on your door, and Jaehyun practically jumps out of his armor. He tears his hand away from you, turning toward the intrusion as one of your ladies in waiting steps into the room.
“I’ve come to help the princess remove her gown for bed,” your maid announces.
“Yes, thank you,” you sigh. 
The maid looks to Jaehyun next. “Marcus Lee is also outside, to relieve you of your position for the night, Sir Jeong.” 
“Right.” Jaehyun nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Goodnight, Princess, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, good knight,” you bow your head.
It almost pains Jaehyun to walk away, but he has to. He steps outside of your bedroom, joining the knight who takes care of your watch while Jaehyun gets his rest.
Mark nods to Jaehyun, and Jaehyun returns the motion, not saying a word as he sets off toward his own room.
The Knight of Roses’ skin is practically buzzing, a fire raging inside of him. He thinks of all the things he’s wanted to say, all the things he’s wanted to do- 
You’d been so close to kissing him, and Jaehyun can feel it. 
When he gets back to his quarters, Jaehyun is quick to tear his armor off, the metal feeling constricting and like a furnace against his heated skin.
He falls into bed with a huff of exasperation, the thought of your lips never leaving his mind. 
Tumblr media
Seven:
There had been a huge morning going away party, in which you and Johnny said goodbye to everyone who had come to celebrate his birthday. You’d been doing your duty, and you and Jaehyun have yet to discuss last night. When you’re finally alone and head back to your room, you turn to your Knight of Roses expectantly, waiting for him to break the ice.
“Would you like to train today?” he asks in the doorway to your bedroom. 
“Get in here,” you instruct. “We’re finishing our conversation from last night.”
With a nod, Jaehyun closes your door behind him, standing awkwardly a few meters away from you with his head bowed.
“Well?” you ask expectantly. 
The knight takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” you urge. “What you’re feeling. Tell me that last night, if we hadn’t been interrupted, you would have kissed me the way I’ve been wanting to kiss you.”
Jaehyun’s eyes meet yours, and you see his expression break a little. “I talked with the King,” he starts, and you let out an exasperated sigh, not knowing what this has to do with anything. “He told me that he doesn’t want to push you into a loveless marriage, and then he noted that we look at each other the same way-”
“How do we look at each other?” you ask, wanting to hear him say it.
You watch him swallow thickly. “We look at each other like we care about each other. I know I care about you, more deeply than I ever thought I would- and in such a short time-”
“It has been a short time that you’ve been my guard,” you agree, “however, you’ve been in court for five years. It’s not like we’re strangers. I feel as if I already know you. I’m comfortable with you, and I’m not comfortable with many people, Jaehyun.”
Your knight nods, staying quiet.
“I care about you,” you confirm. “I care about you too.”
He looks up at you hopefully, and you have the sense that he’s waiting for you to elaborate.
“I’ve had these feelings, these longings-” you try to explain, clutching at your chest, where your heart is beating rapidly at the thought of how this might change your relationship. “But I have worries too.”
“Worries, Princess?” he inquires.
“It’s just… this power imbalance,” you motion between the two of you. “I’m your Princess, and you’re my Knight- I’d hate for you to grow to resent me as my protector if we were to ever take this leap.”
“I could never resent you,” he promises, words softening. “Princess- Never.”
“Never?” you repeat, stepping closer to him.
Jaehyun shakes your head. “I admire you, more than I’ve ever admired anyone. You’re a princess, but you don’t let your title define you. You are so singular- in the best of ways.”
“Keep telling me sweet nothings,” you whisper, reaching out to play with the belt that holds his sword.
“I’ve never met someone like you, man or woman,” Jaehyun tells you, his breath hot on your face as he looks down at you. “You’re so fierce, yet there’s a softness to you too- a softness I don’t think you want to show many people.”
You look up to meet his gaze. “You think so?”
“Yes, Princess.” Jaehyun nods solemnly. “I want you to feel safe enough to show me that soft side. Want for you to feel safe and know that I’ll always protect you, all of you.”
You cup his cheek, and Jaehyun leans into the touch, his eyes closing as he lets out a shaky breath.
“Kiss me,” you tell him.
“You’re a princess,” Jaehyun sighs. “Prince Yuta was right about not tarnishing your virtue-”
“Well, if you ask me to marry you, and I say yes, then my virtue is yours regardless of whether you take it now, or on our wedding night,” you point out.
Jaehyun opens his eyes, and you can see his resolve faltering. You can see him crumbling for you, and it’s a dazzling sight. This strong knight, breaking.
“I don’t have a ring,” he whispers.
“I don’t care about a ring.”
“We’ve not known each other intimately for very long.”
“My mother met my father on their wedding night, for royals, it’s not uncommon to meet your betrothed until you’re at the alter.” 
“Are you sure you want this, Princess?”
“My Knight, my dear, sweet Knight,” you move closer, until your lips are just an inch away from his own, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”
Jaehyun kisses you then, his arms wrapping tightly around you. He’s all hard metal, but his lips are soft. You’re sure he knows that this is your first time kissing a man, and he’s gentle as he wordlessly guides you through it. His tongue strokes your bottom lip and you hesitantly open up for him, allowing him deeper.
You mewl as he lifts you off the ground, carrying you toward your bed.
“You’re sure?” Jaehyun asks again, setting you down.
“Make love to me, Jaehyun, your Princess commands it.”
Jaehyun lets out a laugh, and his smile lights up his entire face. “Should we worry about a maid coming in to check on you?”
“They’ll just assume I’m off in the King’s Wood somewhere,” you tell him, fingers going to the fastenings on his armour. “Once I get this metal off of you, we can close the blinds on my four poster bed, a little more privacy that way.”
“Whatever you say, Princess,” Jaehyun nods, lips attaching to yours again as you work to undress him.
You’re not generally accustomed to undressing yourself, let alone others, and it’s clear that you’re struggling. “Here,” Jaehyun gently takes your hands, placing them by your sides. “Let me do the work.”
You sit down on the bed, watching as he expertly removes his armor. 
Soon he’s just in his under armour white shirt and pants, and you reach out to remove those next-
“Your turn, Princess,” Jaehyun tells you, gently pushing your hands away again.
“My turn?” You cock a brow before rolling onto your stomach. “Hope you're good with laces,” you grin, baring the corsetted back of your gown to him. 
Jaehyun laughs. “I think I’ll manage, Princess.”
“You better.”
Jaehyun’s shaky fingers find the laces, and he undoes the top bow carefully. Then he slowly begins to tug on each section, gently working his way down your back to open you up for him. You can feel his breath on your shoulders, and there’s something so erotic about it. He’s unwrapping you, his perfect little Princess present. 
“You’re sure about this?” Jaehyun asks again, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, sending a tingle down your spine.
“Please stop asking me that,” you breathe, practically writhing under his touch.
“Is that a command, Princess?”
“Yes.” 
Jaehyun chuckles, returning to his task as he gets the last of your corset undone. You hold the front of your dress close to your chest as you sit up, facing him. The sleeves are falling off your shoulders, and you look up at the knight, curious to see his expression.
Your guard looks stunned, and then he says, “Wait, I never officially asked you to be my wife.”
“I thought that was a given,” you admit.
Jaehyun gets down onto one knee. “Princess, would you do me the great honour, and make me the happiest man in all four kingdoms-”
“Yes, Jaehyun, yes, I’ll marry you.” You press your lips to his and he kisses you desperately, his hands balling up in the thick fabric of your skirt.
“I want to taste you,” Jaehyun whispers.
“What?”
“I’ll talk you through everything,” The Knight of Roses promises. “You trust me, right?”
“I trust you,” you confirm.
Jaehyun presses one last chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your throat. You love the feeling of it, and you throw your head back, moaning. You love the way he’s taking his time with you, his mouth descending. He ghosts his attention across your chest, and then, he gets onto his knees on the floor.
You watch him curiously as Jaehyun lifts up your skirt. “Lay back for me, Princess.” 
You do as you’re told, gingerly relaxing back against the bed as Jaehyun pushes your dress even higher to your hips. 
His breath fans across your core, and you wiggle desperately. The Knight of Roses hooks his fingers in your panties, dragging them down your legs.
“If you want me to stop-”
“Just do it Jae,” you whisper. “Do whatever you want.”
He doesn’t say anything else, his lips teasing up your inner thighs.
Your pussy is throbbing like it’s never throbbed before. You’ve touched yourself a handful of times, but nothing has ever felt like this.
“I’m gonna marry you,” Jaehyun tells you, pressing a kiss to your clit that has your toes curling deliciously. “You’re going to be my wife.”
You can only moan as he licks a stripe of your pussy, teasing his tongue around the sensitive bud. Your hands bunch up in the blanket on your bed, and you writhe beneath Jaehyun’s motions, prompting him to press a hand to your hips to keep you pinned.
He licks at you for a while, working you up, before his lips suction around your clit again, applying more pressure and stimulus than before.
“Oh my Gods-” you groan. 
Jaehyun returns your sound with one of his own, and the vibrations make you dizzy.
You can feel something building in the pit of your stomach- you’re not sure what it is, exactly, only that it feels amazing. 
Your moans are getting pitchier, and Jaehyun sucks harder on your clit-
That’s when the tension in your tummy snaps, and all of the sudden, summer waves are washing over you. It’s a pleasure unlike any you’ve felt- and it takes your breath away as you gasp and moan in the sanctity of your bedroom.
You quite literally see stars, your eyes clenched shut as Jaehyun continues his motions, keeping you on that pleasure cloud until you can’t take it anymore.
“Jae-” you whimper, pushing at his head.
He’s quick to draw back, and you open your eyes to see him looking up at you, licking his lips. “Was that good, Princess?”
“That was amazing,” you tell him.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he warns, rubbing his fingers through your wet pussy lips. “I’m going to stretch you out now.”
You can only whimper at his words.
“Relax for me, Princess, I’ve got you.” 
You lean back against the bed again, trying to breathe deeply as he begins to push his pointer finger into your wet hole. The feeling is foreign, but not unpleasant. In fact, as he begins to thrust his digit, it begins to feel heavenly. 
Gods, your inner walls have never been stroked like this- 
“You’re so wet, Princess,” Jaehyun muses. “Are you ready for another finger?”
“Yes,” you moan, eager to please him.
Jaehyun’s mouth returns to your clit, and he gently pushes a second finger into you. You groan at the feeling, your walls stretching to accommodate him.
“So tight for me,” Jaehyun tells you. “So perfect.”
You mewl, hips pushing toward his hand as he begins to curl his fingers inside of you. 
He works you open, and you can feel yourself relaxing more and more by the second. His mouth finds your clit again, and that sensation in your tummy returns.
You close your eyes, enjoying everything Jaehyun is giving you. 
“I think you’re going to cum again,” Jaehyun says, lips ghosting past your clit. “You going to cum for me, Princess?”
“Mmmm, yes, Jae,” you whimper, ready to agree to anything he asks of you.
His mouth suctions around your sensitive bud, and he sucks lewdly, triggering the release that’s becoming all to familiar.
You squeal with delight, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his soft hair as your high overtakes you again. Your pussy is throbbing desperately, body alive with a sensitivity you’ve never felt.
This is what heaven must feel like, you decide, as you writhe beneath the Knight of Roses, reveling in the way he’s taking care of you. You’ve always wanted someone to love you for more than your royal status, but this feeling of being worshiped is something you could get used to. 
When the sensation is over, Jaehyun pulls away again, and you take a shuddery breath. 
“I’m going to take your dress off now, Princess,” Jaehyun tells you, and you feel like a loved up, limp doll as he undresses you slowly, pressing soft kisses all along your body.
You’re fully naked for him, and you don’t feel an ounce of shame. 
Jaehyun’s eyes betray his feelings, and you can tell he’s as hopelessly in love with you as you are with him. There’s a connection here, one neither of you had admitted, but now that you have-
This is your person, and he’s going to be your person, forever. 
Your Knight of Roses begins to undress, and you can’t help the greedy way in which your eyes devour each piece of newly exposed flesh. 
He’s so perfect- his abs especially- or wait, no, just, everything. 
You feel shy for the first time when you take a peek at his cock, your skin heating with embarrassment. 
“It’s okay,” Jaehyun assures you. “I’ll go slow with you, Princess, I promise.”
“Come here,” you prompt him, crawling up to your pillows so you can be in the centre of your large four poster bed.
You watch Jaehyun draw the blinds, allowing you some inkling of privacy before he returns between your thighs.
He’s already rock hard, and you can’t help but reach out and touch him, stroking him gently while Jaehyun releases a groan of pleasure. 
The Knight of Roses leans over you, pressing his elbows into the bed while his lips meet yours.
You let go of his cock in favour of tangling your fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss.
His length teases your pussy, bumping by your clit as he begins to slowly rock his hips. 
“Are you-”
“Yes, I’m sure,” you groan. “Jaehyun-”
“As you wish, Princess,” he tells you, kissing you again before grabbing the base of his cock, lining it up with your pussy.
He teases the tip inside of you, and you groan at the stretch. Jaehyun pauses, allowing you to get used to his size a little before pushing more inside your aching core.
He’s very gentle, his mouth hot on your throat, a welcome distraction as he opens you up for himself the way no man ever has before.
Finally, he’s fully sheathed inside of you, and he releases a groan. “You’re squeezing me so tight, Princess-”
“Sorry-”
“No, it’s a good thing,” he assures you. “Feels good.”
“Good,” you grin, drawing his lips to your own.
You kiss him fiercely, getting lost in the feeling as he begins to move, slowly rocking in and out of your core.
The sensation of his cock along your inner walls turns pleasurable quickly, and soon you’re moaning against his lips. 
Jaehyun’s hand finds yours, and he links your fingers as he makes love to you. 
That tension is building in the pit of your stomach again, and you whimper. “I think- I think I’m close again,” you warn him.
“Want you to cum for me, then I can cum too,” he tells you, releasing your hand so he can bring his thumb to your clit.
You’re so sensitive from two orgasms that the brush of his digit across your bud has you mewling, grabbing at the sheets desperately. “Jaehyun-”
“I know, I’m here, I’ve got you,” he promises. 
You open your eyes, gazing up at your new lover, your protector, your future husband.
You’re overwhelmed by a feeling of complete joy, and it fills your entire being as he works you closer and closer to the edge, fucking you harder-
“Jae, I’m gonna-”
“Let go for me,” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck. “Let go for me, Princess, I’ll take care of you.”
With a whine, you release the tension in your abdomen, and for the third time tonight, your high washes over you.
You gasp, back arching, pressing your breasts up toward his chest.
Jaehyun groans deeply, hips unrelenting, fucking you through the feeling.
As your orgasm subsides, Jaehyun pulls out of you, pumping his cock as he coats your abdomen in his own release.
He lets out curse words under his breath, head bowed, eyes focused on the mess he’s making. You lay there, keeping still and watching in awe at the beautiful man in front of you.
Finally, Jaehyun lets out a grunt, his motion stopping. 
He’s breathing heavily, you both are. Then, Jaehyun runs a hand through his hair. “Let me find something to clean you up with.”
He stumbles out of the bed, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him not fully composed. You love the effect you have on him, and you lay there, in a state of complete bliss.
Jaehyun returns with a wash cloth, and he cleans the cum off your skin.
“I’ll get dressed, and when I leave, I’ll find your maid. I’ll let her know you want a bath,” Jaehyun explains.
“A bath sounds really nice,” you admit, feeling sleepy.
“I know, Princess.” Jaehyun kisses you one last time, and you lazily watch him put his clothes and armor back on.
Part of you hates to see him go, but you’re exhausted, and after your maids come in to help you with a bath, you fall into a deep, love filled slumber. 
Tumblr media
Eight:
Jaehyun knows he’s doing the right thing as he approaches the King’s quarters. 
Jungwoo and Haechan are outside, standing guard, and they nod to their fellow knight as he passes through, knocking on the door.
The King’s authoritative voice calls a, “Come in!” and with a deep breath, Jaehyun enters.
“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Johnny admits, looking up from his book at the Knight of Roses.
“I have news,” Jaehyun says, his throat dry already.
“Let’s hear it.” Johnny leans back in his chair, eyeing Jaehyun suspiciously.
“Well.” The Knight lets out a deep breath. “The Princess and I-” His voice cracks, and it makes Jaehyun look at the floor. 
“Are you two engaged now, or what?”
Johnny’s question makes Jaehyun’s eyes rise again. 
“It’s about time,” Johnny continues. “You know, our family has always loved you. Even before you were officially my sister’s guard, there was something there. My mother could see it. She left her engagement ring before she went away with my father, I guess she always figured that one day, you could give it to her daughter.”
The King stands, going to his bedside table, where he pulls out a tiny box. 
“Here,” Johnny says, holding it out to Jaehyun. “Give this to her.”
“I-” Jaehyun doesn’t even know what to say. “I couldn’t possibly accept this-”
“You can, and you will, your King demands it,” Johnny teases. “You know, the whole ‘sending Doyoung to ask my sister to marry him’ thing was just a ploy to get you to act on your feelings, but I never imagined it would happen this fast.”
“You orchestrated this?” Jaehyun asks in shock.
“Of course. My sister always had this weird thing about ending up in a wild Kingdom, the North, or the West- I wanted to show her that she’d do better with someone from our own kind of land, someone more peaceful, less headstrong, that sort of thing.” Johnny sighs, forcing the small engagement ring box into Jaehyun’s hands. “She’s a summer girl, and everyone knows Summer works best with one of their own, or someone from the Spring Kingdom. All I’ve ever wanted for her was happiness, and I think she can attain that with you. You have my blessing, Jaehyun, don’t mess this up.”
Jaehyun nods. 
He won’t mess this up. There’s no way he would ever intentionally hurt you. The Knight of Roses will guard you with his life, as your husband, and your ultimate protector.
Tumblr media
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I had so much fun with this fantasy au, and now... I'm going to plan my Halloween fic for this year, cuz I've gotta match how good Ghostie was from 2023
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. The Knight of Roses is so adept with his tongue- he’d spent hours eating you out on your honeymoon, taking the time to learn every inch of your body. He knows exactly what makes you tick, and you adore that he puts an effort into all things.
cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (sex in the forest), oral ( f recieving), body worship, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, dirty talk, praise, power play,  etc…  
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 1.8k I teaser wc. 135
🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyunl x afab!Reader
Tumblr media
 bonus
In the year since you and Jaehyun were wed, very little has changed. You’re still head over heels for him, and he’s still completely obsessed with you. It’s a beautiful little life- the two of you spending much of your time in the castle or the King’s Wood, where you’re currently training.
You’ve gotten so much better with your swordsmanship, and you can see the pride in Jaehyun’s expression every time you even slightly get the best of him.
You get the sense that he’s still holding back- your husband would never, ever, ever hurt you, not even while training, and it fills your heart with love every time you see him adjust himself or use less power in a blow.
“Don’t be scared, my love,” you tease. “You don’t have to hold back today.”
Tumblr media
☀️ to read the full fic AND 1.8k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list
Tumblr media
general taglist
@gotshinct - @runahways - @milkteade - @mocha000
@anothershorthuman - @notbeforelong - @darthlunaa
@chogiwapadada - @meowniee - @pandabur666
@just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono - @lovelyhan -
@grilledbananas - @quennlenn - @zezedoesshit
@unlikelysublimekryptonite - @wonwoothinker
nct taglist
@peachyjaemin - @sehunniepot - @shailasthings
thank you to those who interacted with the teaser
@theworld-accordingtocasey - @peachfulnight - @babbymochiiii
@guesswhatimthinking - @nosungluv - @babieculture
@changbinlov3r - @jeffreysleftdimple - @dvalities - @bobathi
@peachroseabyss - @im-gorgetastic - @soonnypeach
@itallstartsfromhome - @ollieollieoctopus - @got-sum-badhabits
@amazinggraxia - @jaessunflower214 - @axo-l0tl - @theunknownct
@cherrybbycheol - @btsreadss - @hqech - @kjwoozz
@markgeollie - @justwonus-recs - @ghostskilledmyaddiction21
192 notes · View notes
cosmicdahlias · 3 days
Text
What You Deserve
a ford x reader fic
MINORS DNI
Tumblr media
warnings: HEAVY NONCON, smut, possession
i really went wild on this one i hope y’all enjoy
Ford has been worrying you lately. His sleep schedule is erratic, he barely eats, and it seems like he’s always talking to someone that isn’t there. But there is someone, you’ve come to know him as Bill.
In Ford’s words Bill is his muse, his inspiration. You hadn’t questioned it at first, it kept him so driven. But now things were different, Ford wasn’t quite the same as when you first met him.
You’ve never spoken directly to Bill, only when he speaks through Ford via possession. You never let Ford know but it terrifies you to see Ford so unlike himself. He turns wild, dangerous, unpredictable. Sometimes disappearing for days at a time and returning with no recollection of what transpired. One time coming back sporting a tattoo of a star on his neck that he had no memory of getting, but a tattoo was the least of your worries.
You’ve started to hate Bill for what he’s done to your partner. You fear the day that you turn on the news and see that the local mysterious scientist in the woods has turned up dead.
You secretly love him too. He captivated you, perhaps that’s why you cared so much. If he was just your coworker it wouldn’t keep you up as often as it did. You wanted to take him away from all of this, to just kiss him and tell him that there was more to life than being Bill’s puppet.
These thoughts consumed your mind as you sat at your desk going over your research notes. You were so in your head that you didn’t sense the looming presence behind you.
A hand grasped your shoulder, you jumped nearly a foot out of your chair. It was Ford.
“JESUS Christ, Ford. A little warning next time?” You gasped.
He released his hand. “Oh dear I’m sorry I hadn’t realized I’d scare you like that, you just looked so wrapped up in your own thoughts. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You huffed. “Yeah, it’s just… I have a lot on my mind right now.”
“Oh? Perhaps I can take your mind off things.”
“How so?” You asked.
“Well for starters sweetheart I can rip off those clothes.” He cooed.
“What?” You stammered.
“You heard me.”
You blushed, this was so unlike him. “Ford are you feeling okay?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve never felt more like myself.”
It was then you noticed his eyes, the yellow tint and catlike pupils. Your heart sank. Bill.
“I know it’s you Bill. What do you want?” You spat through gritted teeth.
“I’m just doing old sixer here a favor. I’ve seen inside his mind and I know what he thinks about you. Thing is, he’s too damn shy to just go for it. So I figured, why not do it for him?”
You felt like a rock just sank to the pit of your stomach, you knew what that meant. Your thoughts quickly screamed at you to defend yourself. You knew you had a small knife in the drawer of your desk, but could you grab it before Ford, rather, Bill reached you?
You decided to take the risk, you shot up and darted your hand to the drawer, pulling it open. You quickly grabbed the knife and held it out in front of you. Your hands trembled.
Bill laughed coldly “That’s cute of you, but here’s the thing, you try hurting me and you’re just gonna kill Fordsy. And we wouldn’t want that now would we?”
Before you could say anything Ford descended on you, coming up behind you his hands gripping your wrists and wrestling the knife out of your grasp.
“Now listen to me toots, we’re gonna have some fun on behalf of my good old pal here. You can struggle all you want, but I think you and I both know he’s a lot bigger and stronger than you.” He said, running the knife against your throat.
You felt his teeth sink into your neck, rough kisses left at every bite mark, his hands traveling up and down your body. He hooked the knife underneath your clothes and began to tear away at the fabric, leaving your top half exposed.
You wanted to run, to scream, to cry, but you knew it would be in vain. Where would you run? To whom would you scream or cry to? You were all alone in a shack in the middle of the woods with a man possessed by a twisted demon.
The knife slowly cut away at your skirt, next your bra and panties. Ford kept a hand on your waist, the other still holding a knife to your throat.
“Now,” he said, his fingers massaging your breasts “I’m going to have my way with you.” His voice sent a cold chill down your spine.
In one quick motion Ford spun you around and forced you to the floor, hands holding down your wrists.
“But first, I think Ford deserves a good look at my work, don’t you?”
As you looked up at Ford you saw his eyes return to their normal whites and rounded pupils. He looked down at you, confused, then the horror set in.
“Y/n, what are you- oh god no, Bill what have you done?”
Before he could even remove his hands from your wrists his head snapped back violently, when he returned his gaze to you it was with the same terrifying look, Bill had retaken control.
Keeping a hand on your wrist he began to wrestle with his belt.
“I’ll never understand you humans and your complicated clothing.”
He slipped his pants low enough to reveal his cock, which was dripping with precum. You tried hard to fight against him but your efforts were in vain, Bill was right, Ford was stronger.
Sharply and violently he slid himself into you all the way to the base. You screamed from the pain and Ford let out a loud groan. He began to thrust hard and fast, growling and breathing heavily into the crook of your neck.
“Ah fuck, now I see why sixer wanted this so bad.” He hissed.
You felt your will begin to fade, you were stuck like this, there was nothing you could do, no one was coming to save you.
“I think Ford should feel this too, I never know if he feels anything I’m doing.”
His eyes reverted again, they widened.
“No no no, dear god, make it stop. I’m so sorry, y/n.”
Ford tried to fight it, he struggled to get himself off of you but Bill began to take hold again.
“Fordsy might be sorry, but I’m not. Quite frankly I always feel like you’re getting in the way of things, perhaps this will teach you to stay away.”
He resumed his brutal pace, the loud slapping echoing through the lab accompanied by his grunts and your whimpers. All you could see was his yellow eyes and wicked smile. This was pure hell, you wanted Ford, but not like this, never like this.
He could feel himself getting close, he grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulders. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your calves.
“Hahhh, hahhhh. I’m going to… make you regret ever agreeing to work with Ford. You’re gonna… keep your distance. You hear me?”
Tears began to stream down your face, you started to hope that Bill would just kill you after he was done.
Ford was fucking you at a punishing speed, as he forced a hand to your throat Bill released him right as he began to cum. Ford let out a deafening moan and his whole body shook. Everything went white for a few seconds, when his vision returned he was greeted with a frightening visual beneath him.
Ford let you go and backed up against the wall, he had to focus all of his attention on not vomiting.
“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
All you could do was lay on the floor, nothing felt real. Ford took off his trench coat and wrapped you in it. Tears began to fall down his face.
“I’m so sorry, y/n. I never meant to hurt you.”
199 notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 8 hours
Note
Hi! I want to start off by saying that I absolutely ADORE your stories!! ❤️💖💖😁😁😁😁💖💖❤️ And I also really hope you make a series out of the de-aged Captain Marvel au! The potential cuteness and absolute chaos is great!
Tim Drake no longer owned Drake Manor.
When his mother died, it had fallen out of his family's assets as his father had been less than prepared to run the company. When he woke that was.
At the time, Tim had been struggling with the loss and the craziness life had become. Moving to the penthouse was a necessary evil because otherwise, Bruce would have noticed that his "uncle" wasn't around as much. He hadn't really missed the manor, but it was a comfrot to see it there, unchaning since his family fell apart.
He always told himself he would repurchase it, making a mental note whenever he was at Wayne Manor, but he never did for one reason or another. The building remained on the market, but it was considered bad luck among the elites to purchase ancestral homes and the regular populance could never afford it.
Tim would sometimes glance at the manor while driving his motorbike to visit the Waynes. Occasionally, he would stop at the gate, staring at the building and reminiscing.
It would help clear his head on some dark nights. He silently promised himself that when he retired from the field, he would come back home and maybe raise his own family here. It was likely a lie because he couldn't imagine a life without being a vigilante, but it was a nice thought anyway.
He did that today, going for a drive to clear his head and aiming to stop in front of his old home to climb over the fence and sit under the same tree when he realized with a start that the yard had been cleaned up and a group of people were moving items into the building. Yanking out his phone, Tim did a quick search, feeling all the blood drain from his face when the listing now read: SOLD
An overwhelming sense of numbness erupted from his chest as he looked back up, watching the moving crew go to and fro with the belonging of the new owners.
Someone had bought his childhood home. Tim had allowed it to slip through his fingers.
He doesn't have time to process that before a child's laughter has him swinging his head to the top of the gate pillars. There, a boy with bright blue eyes is watching him, eating a giant swirl lollipop.
Tim's heart launches when he realizes how close the child is to tilting over as he yells "Hi mister!"
"Hey there." Tim says as calmly as he can speak."Are you okay up there? You can fall."
"I'm fine. It's really easy to climb up here."
Tim knows. He used the same method to follow Bruce and Jason as a kid. Still, it doesn't make it safe so he steps closer, just incase he needs to catch the kid. It helps, having this distraction from the ache of his mistake in not rebuying Drake Manor.
He ignores the empty sign that the child is leaning against, the faded outline of his family name showing where they removed the metal shapes. He can't handle that right now.
"If you're sure. My name is Tim by the way. What's yours?"
"I'm Billy! I'm five years old! " the boy answers, holding up his hand with a cheer. He gives his lollipop two licks before he gestures at Tim with it."Why are you standing in front of my house?"
"I just.....got curious. You have a pretty house." Tim says as evenly as he can.
"It's super pretty inside, too! My Dad bought it for my Mom and Papa," the boy cheerfully tells him. We move next to my uncle because my Dad says we have to stay close to family."
Wait.
"Bruce Wayne is your uncle?" Tim asks, and the boy nods rapidly. He even points down the street to where Wayne Manor can be viewed from a far distance- neighbors, they may be- the two properties were very vast. "He lives over there with my cousins."
Cousins.
"Oh" Tim hears himself say "That would be me."
Billy eyes sparkle "You're a Wayne?"
"Yes, Tim Drake-Wayne."
"I'm Billy Phantom! Heir to throne!" Billy shouts leaping off the pillar cuasing Tim to launch forward with his arms streach out ready to catch. He hits the ground with a oof but a lack of weight in his hands says he failed to caught Billy.
Not that it mattered as Billy floated in the air harmlessly. Tim glances at the workers to see if anyone has noticed that the boy is apparently a meta, but they don't even look over. Maybe the information was disclosed upon hiring?
"Are you Robin?" Billy says in his face, flouting upside down and staring into Tim's round eyes. He still lays in a heap on the floor, position for a catch and it must make quite a sight to any onlooker. "You look to big to be that one."
Before Tim could even think of an excuse, multicolored rose petals started to fall around them in a dazzling down. It appeared like foral confiti falling from the heavens. Billy flips around to see a pale, beautiful woman dressed in a gothic attire walking toward them.
Behind her, plant life blossoms into a wonderful sight. "Mom!"
"Billy, what did we say about Uncle Bruce's secret?" The lady says, voice musical to the ear.
"But Mom! Only the ghosts are around!" Billy whines, pointing at the moving crew further down the driveway, who have yet to pay attention to them. They didn't care that a goth version of Posion Ivy had strutted by.
"That's no excuse. What would your auntie Jazz say?"
"She says I was not being trustworthy with secrets and other peoples' feelings. I'm sorry." Billy slumps, flouting down to pout on the ground.
"Exactly. Hello Timothy," the woman continues, turning her purple eyes towards the down boy.It's lovely to have family over. "I'm Sam, goddess of the Green. Bruce recommended this place to us. We are excited for the next ten year vacation"
Bruce has a lot to tell him, more then just selling his family house without letting Tim know.
157 notes · View notes
bts-trans · 2 days
Text
240917 Weverse Translations
J-Hope's Post ❇️ with Jungkook's Comment 💬
Tumblr media
한 달, 그래 딱 30일! 시간이 야속하기만 했는데 이제는 정이라는 게 생겨 애틋해지네요. 짐 정리도 해보고, 잘 쓰고 애용하던 물품들도 후임들에게 나눠주고서, 가벼워진 관물대를 보니 그 마음이 좀 더 짙어집니다. 돌이켜보면 별거 아닌데 그때는 왜 이렇게 긴장되고 경직되어 있었는지.. ㅎ (관물대 열리는 소리마저도 신경을 자극했던 그 시절) 새로 들어온 전입 신병들 보면서 나름의 동병상련이 생기고 제 모습이 보여 귀여워하는 요즘입니다. 참.. 극한의 F 상태가 되어 제 군 생활을 돌이켜보는 중인데.. 뿌듯합니다! 떳떳하구요! 물론 지금은 말년 병장 그 자체, 침대에 누워 글을 쓰지만요 하하 연휴가 참 좋네요!! 푹 쉴 수 있어서! 사족이 길었지만, 그래서 추석 인사드리러 온 거에요~ 근데 우연하게도 딱 30일이 남은 오늘이네요~ 모든 분들의 가정의 평화가 이루어지고 있는 지금, 제 마음속에도 비둘기가 요동칩니다. 조금은 뜨거운 추석이지만!! 풍요로운 한가위가 되시길 기원하며 여러분들에게 안부를 전해드립니다. 얼른 가을이 왔으면 좋겠습니다. 떨어지는 낙엽 조심해 보게~ 🍃 🍂 다음 달, 이날에 뵙겠습니다. 그날까지 부디 건강 잘 챙기시길..! 충성🫡
ㅇㅁㅅㄹㅎ💜🕊
JK: 고생했어유 쨔홉💜 (https://weverse.io/bts/artist/0-149280230?anchor=4-335171757)
JH: One month, exactly 30 days! At first, time felt so cruel But now I've developed this fondness and am getting sentimental.
I've been clearing my things, and giving away some of my belongings that I used a lot to my successors. Now, looking at my locker that's much emptier than before
those feelings are even stronger.
Looking back, it really wasn't such a big deal, I don't know why I was so nervous..ha (back then, when even the sound of the locker door opening would make me flinch) These days, I watch the new recruits come in and feel sense if empathy towards them. I see myself in them, they seem so adorable.
Man…looking back at my military life in this extremely F state*..I'm pretty satisfied with myself! And proud!
Though of course, currently, I'm the typical sergeant at the end if his service—lying on my bed as I write this haha The holidays are so great!! It's so nice to rest! This has become a bit lengthy but, I wanted to come here to wish you a Happy Chuseok~ And then it just happened to be the exact day that marks my last month~
As all families experience peace, a dove flutters in my heart as well. It is a bit of a warm Chuseok, but!! I hope it is a prosperous one. My best wishes to you.
I hope that autumn comes soon. So that be wary of even falling leaves²~🍃🍂
I'll see you next month, in this day. Until then, please stay healthy..!
Salute🫡
I love you ARMY💜🕊️
(T/N: *Refers to the 'F' (feeling) personality type in the MBTI types.
In the military, people say that sergeants close to the end of their service should be wary of "even the falling leaves" as a way of saying that they shouldn't get complacent and make sure that they finish their service without any incidents, especially in the final stretch.)
JK: You've worked so hard and done so well JjyaHop💜
Trans cr; Aditi @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS
Jungkook's Post ❇️
추석 잘 보내시길 바랍니다 🫡
I hope you have a great Chuseok 🫡
Trans cr; Aditi @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS
124 notes · View notes
hyukascampfire · 2 days
Text
To: Someone From a Warm Climate
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
wc: 23.2k
genre: smut, angst, fantasy violence
pairings: faerie!taehyun x human!reader, faerie!yeonjun x human!reader
synopsis: a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.
you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.
a/n: this part, i put my heart and soul into! i rewrote so many parts and agonized over following the path that i most wanted the story to go down—i hope it shows! xoxoxoxo, love ya! again, this is a long one, so pls let me know about spelling mistakes :,)
! warnings: angst, unprotected sex, voyeurism, orgasm denial, jealousy, angst again, dubious intentions of multiple main characters... poor mc has no idea who to believe
playlists: taehyun | yeonjun | series
prev | next
You had hoped that learning of Yeonjun’s relationship with the same crowd who have made attempts on your life would be enough to rattle your brittle heart into sense. You really had. As you watch Taehyun, bent over the war strategy table, though, you wish you had more time to sort it out in your head. You hate the thought of settling on half-baked answers and information all for the fact that time is not on your side. When had time ever really been kind to you, though? It had not made exceptions when you were small and innocent in your cradle, had not slowed down to allow you to at least cherish your final moments a normal child with her human parents. You can only fantasize who you would be if you had been given just enough time to know that gentle love. Even now, time makes your choices for you.  
Taehyun looks over those metal figurines as if searching for something in them. There are more of them stood and strewn out on the map. It reminds you how you are now faced with a plethora of newer, more powerful players.  
You miss when this had been a simple spying mission—when your path forward had been unobscured and clear. You envy that version of yourself: able to believe that bad things presented themselves as such. The world had been clean-cut. Evil had jagged teeth and foul breath, and good had soft edges and sweet smiles. You’re not sure where that distinction lies anymore.  
“How’s your shoulder?” you say, making your presence known. You’re sure he had been keen to your presence from the moment you’d entered the estate, though; not only thanks to his better hearing, but also because Taehyun is constantly assessing his surroundings. The smallest insect could hardly sneak up on him. You push off the doorframe and enter the room. 
He nods his head once in greeting, but he doesn’t tear his gaze away from the table’s ensemble. “It’s doing fine.” 
Sighing, you decide not to push it. The sight of that puncture had been ghastly, and it wreaks havoc in your belly every time you replay it, but the tick in his jaw when you mention it tells you enough of how he feels about disclosing whether or not anything might hurt him. How many times in the past few weeks had you forced him to do just that? It’s no wonder that the two of you butt heads so terribly. Allowing you to stitch him up must’ve been the extent of how far he’d let you see him in need of help. 
You gesture toward the table. “Have you decided when we leave?” 
Taehyun answers you with a strained sigh out through his nose: a testament to how he’d been mulling it over. He levies those figures a few more moments of his gaze as if they might speak an answer for him. They don’t. He concedes to their lack of direction and turns to you. “Every moment we spend here, we risk our identities further,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest.  
You wince. He still believes that you’d at least contained some of your identity by taking out those three faeries. You know better. Even the bard in that tavern had known what had happened; it’s why Yeonjun ended up finding out in the first place. Even if not all of them had been a part of that rebellion, it’s reckless to assume that there were no more than that. 
Continuing, he says, “And judging by what we’ve picked up, we need to get it all back before the solstice.” He doesn’t pace as he thinks. Only the faraway look in his eyes betray the noise in his head. 
You hate the way it sounds like he’s going to demand that you leave immediately, and you hate how it sieges your tongue and makes it dance into a pitiful ploy to stay. To give yourself some credit, it’s better that Taehyun knows every bit of information you have. This moment is desperate for informed decisions. 
“I saw Yeonjun this morning,” you blurt. The words bubbled and bubbled behind your lips until they’d found the tipping point and spilled out. You’d agonized over what to make of it all for hours: that Yeonjun had been as deceitful with you as you’d been with him, that you are a sorry human girl that had wedged her way into the cross-firings of a war much beyond yourself, that you still have the gall to consider your own feelings despite its grandness... None of that worrying had led you to a conclusion that both your heart and mind would agree on.  
Taehyun’s gaze snaps to you, contained and remote aside from the twitching at the corners of his lips. The intensity of it makes you waver, but you have no time for wavering.  
“He’s... been made aware of our purpose here. He knows that we’re spies,” you say. As you watch him try to piece that together, you add, “He’s part of their rebellion.” 
Now he laughs, barbed and full of mock and disbelief. “The prince is rebelling against his father? He thinks he’ll find the throne like that? What’s his plan for when this falls through? For when his father hears of his mutiny? The prince will lose his head.” 
The thought makes you nauseous, despite how Yeonjun’s image has grown to be something murky. You don’t know what Yeonjun’s intentions are in aligning with the rebellion here. You hardly know anything about his relationship with his father and the High Court aside from the fact that he feels suffocated by his life back there. You’d assume that there’s a lot more to his reasoning, but you’ve learned your lesson about assuming that you know who people are. The inability to lie comes with the need for secrets. The thought that perhaps Yeonjun is only making a shady attempt for power crosses your mind, but either your own reasoning or your own stubbornness shoves it down. Nobody in faerie would hand their fealty to a prince who’d taken the throne of a long-standing king by those sorts of means. He’d be a king with no denizens to preside over. 
You interject Taehyun’s parade of scoffs. “He told me that war is coming, that it’s been coming.” 
His face drops, and he straightens up. “Of course it is. It’ll begin the moment we return with what we’ve found.” 
Your lips go a bit numb, and then your fingers follow. You know that this is your duty—it’d been this all along. It should come as no shock to you that he intends to relay this all to The King. But that was before you allowed your heart to make its home here. How simply he demands that you return to those lands with information that would kill Yeonjun... it has acid crawling a path up your throat. 
You make your best effort to ensure that your voice doesn’t falter as you speak. “He offered us protection as long as we stay here,” you say. “We don’t have to leave now.” You try to catch his gaze as you add, “We don’t have to leave at all.”  
You know that Yeonjun plays a part in the rebellion, but you don’t know how deep his devotion goes, and you also don’t know to what ends you can trust his intentions. How far do his loyalties to the rebellion go? And, where do his loyalties to you stand? The thought that he may have never loved you at all... it’s been a plague to your heart and mind from the very moment he’d revealed the truth to you this morning. Your guilt has chipped away at you without mercy—you’ve spent so many awful nights wishing you could unload your deceptions in front of him. How had it ended up so trivial in the grand scheme of things? How are you the one left feeling betrayed? 
You really, really cannot imagine having Yeonjun’s blood on your hands. He is one of them—a creature deception, and yet you still cannot shake those stolen nights from your bones. He had been your first. He’d made this place a home for you, where you had never had a home. It’s pitiful to search so deeply in someone else for your own strengths; even you can see that. Nevertheless, you do it. You suppose that a pair of warm arms and sweet words will do that to someone, no matter if you know that they could rot you like sweets do the tooth. It’s not unlike drunkards who find their day’s comfort in their drinks, even as it rots their body and mind away. Anything for a stretch of belonging and bliss. You're desperate for it. 
Taehyun’s sinewy words rattle your wandering mind back to reality. “He tells you that he is a member of the same group of people that have tried multiple times to kill you, and you believe him when he says he’s going to protect you? Still?” he spits, shaking his head. “What makes you so sure that he’s not just keeping us from running? That he isn’t handing us on a platter to his rebel friends? You’re going to get us fucking killed.” 
Blood roars like frothy-white rapids in your ears, warring with the echoes of his honey-glazed exclamations of love. To some capacity, he had to have meant those words. Faeries can’t lie, and he had said it so plainly. He loves you. 
“We can’t leave yet,” you say, stepping toward him on legs that you fear might collapse beneath you. “You said it yourself; we can’t return without the whole story. If we return now, we could be missing something.” You study the frosty set to his face and suck in a stabilizing breath. “Please, Taehyun. Please trust me on this.”  
You sound desperate and pleading, but you don’t reel it in at all. You are desperate and pleading. You have no intent of returning as some successful spy and continuing a life of deception and violence. It’s not who you are; it’ll never be who you are. Maybe this world tries to ask it of you, but you refuse to concede to it. 
“Part of our job is staying alive,” he says, his body rigid. He doesn’t like where you’re going with this, you can tell that much. 
“Is that what you want? To be a pawn of war? Isn’t that what we are if we bring this information back?” you challenge. “Don’t you think that if the prince of all people has turned against him, then serving at his hand is the wrong choice? I don’t know The King—I’ve never even seen him! Why should I be excited to serve him?” 
“The prince has more reason than anybody to want his father off his throne.” 
“That’s not what I’m saying,” you say, stepping further toward him. Though, it does make you revisit those thoughts. If vying for the crown is really Yeonjun’s intention, you suppose he’d have no problems pleading with you to stay in order to tie off loose ends. You wish you could see it all from somebody else’s untainted eyes. “What I’m saying is, do you want to be a spy? What has The King ever done for you to earn your loyalty?” 
Taehyun looks at you with disbelief, the corners of his mouth tilting down. “I don’t care about the damn king,” he snaps, and then gestures down at the table with all those figures. “The Queen operates on necessary evils. Where she can find a string to pull, she will pull it. My father was her general for a reason. Do you think she would keep him unless she approved of his violence? There is no good side to this war—just sides. If you’re suggesting that we stay here and try to forget that we came as spies, then you can forget it.” 
You glance over at the war table and wonder how you’ve become a moving piece in ancient faerie politics when all you’d set out for was a purpose. You’d been so warped by your bitterness with your upbringing that you’d failed to see how anything could be worse than that. You’d been so excited that you jumped willingly into dark water without knowing how deep it was, and now your feet can’t touch the ground. Is this the purpose you want? 
“Leave, then,” you say, stepping back. “You can leave. Just let me stay here. Please.” 
Something in Taehyun’s expression flips, so subtle that you can’t name it. It unsettles you, your hair standing on edge. There is something in his eyes that you do not like.  
“So, that’s it?” he says, his voice odd too. “That’s all it took for you to hand your future over on a leash to him?” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you stammer. The only ones with a collar around your neck are the spies. They’re the ones who insisted on that geas—the ones who needed to compel you with their faerie magic.  
“It means that you got all the way here, uncovered a whole rebellion, and made a life for yourself, not handed to you by a prince, and you’re going to trade it in. It means that you’ve let him convince you that you are weak and need to be coddled.” 
Your fists curl tight and dig your nails into your palms. “I never wanted to be a spy,” you grit out. Yeonjun is not the reason you want to stay here. He may be part of it, but you’ve come to be utterly unwilling to return to that spy den like it’s your home, or something. It’s not. You’d slept there for one night. Beyond just your word and that geas, what reason do you have to return? 
“You didn’t? And yet, it’s what we are, isn’t it?” he says. “Do you think that I dreamed of being a spy? That I do it because I love it?” 
“Then, what do you do it for, Taehyun?” you say. “When will you begin living your life for you?” 
Taehyun seems to consider your words for a few long heartbeats, and then he seems to settle into something in his head. You allow yourself to let go of some of the tension in your shoulders as you watch his expression morph into something much less poisonous. 
You hadn’t expected him to react like that. 
“Do you have any weapons on you?” he says. 
Faltering, you sputter out, “What?” You look over the room. The last time you’d been in here, you’d sparred. Does he intend to properly fight you in here now? Had you pushed him too far? Shaking your head and feeling at all the places you usually tuck your blades away, you say, “No... I don’t.” 
“Get some. Where we’re about to go...” he trails off, as if reconsidering, but then he continues, “I’ll get you a hag stone.” 
You furrow your brows, not taking off to do so. “A hag stone?” you echo, thankful that he isn’t trying to duel you, but wary at the need for such a faerie ward. Hag stones are of the more serious class of wards used to protect humans from faerie enchantment or glamour. Most often, humans would string theirs up with a bit of thread through the hole of it and wear it around their necks as a pendant. Unlike turning one’s clothes inside out or taking red berries on your person, hag stones protect against the more devastating faerie magic. You shudder simply wondering what you might need a hag stone to protect yourself from. 
He nods a bit solemnly. “Kelpie do not let a meal or trick pass them by when they wait so long to have them.” 
You look at him with wild eyes, hoping to see him laugh or play his words off as a joke. He does not, but of course he doesn’t. Taehyun doesn’t waste his words on jokes. 
“Why... Why would we be going to a kelpie?” you ask him, laughing around the ball of fright in your chest. 
He lends you a wretched look. “I have old debts to call on.” 
The forest in which Taehyun leads you is untamed. At some point, the sound of nature’s buzzing tapers off, and you know that you’ve entered a deeper forest than you ought to be sticking your nose in. When the forest goes silent, it’s only for one reason.  
You’d grown up here. Maybe you’d been born elsewhere, but that does not negate the fact that you had grown up scared every day of the powerful creatures that inhabit this world. Your fear has ruled you for your whole life, and you let it. You’d be a fool not to. It’s how you survive in this world. Your limbs tremble; they plead with you to listen to everything you’ve ever known—do not mess with what is bigger than you.  
You step around frost-capped puddles and dance between briars, careful not to snag yourself on their claws. It unsettles you further that this part of the forest is so untrodden and overgrown. With no folk coming through, you fear how the kelpie might behave when you make an audience before it. Will it climb straight from its frosty swamp and drag you back down with it? Is the hag stone you clutch at your chest enough to keep you safe? 
“I don’t understand why we’re doing this, Taehyun,” you say, delicately avoiding any tumbles as you speed up to gauge his feelings by his face. You’re not fond of the remote blankness in his eyes, nor the staunch determined set to his jaw. “That thing might kill us, and your shoulder is hurt. You shouldn’t be out here; you should be letting it heal.” 
“I know my limits,” he says. 
Grimacing, you return his curt tone. “Taehyun.” You grab at the material of his sleeve with urgency. When he stops to look at you, you continue. “I want you to actually listen to me. You’re being unreasonable. Yeonjun said he’d use his pull to protect us. Both of us. We have no reason to be out here, you’re just putting us in danger.” 
He lets your words stew in the air for a moment before saying, “I’m the one putting us in danger? Me?” He scoffs. “We are about as safe dealing with a kelpie as we are living off his promises. I’m doing what’s best for us. Trust me.” 
You’re winded by his choice of words. You’ve become wary of dealing out your trust so frivolously. Those two words ring alarm bells. 
“But where is this coming from? You didn’t want to stay.” Your breath furls out in a plume of white smoke in front of your face as you speak.  
He looks as if he doesn’t want to answer that. It only makes you more apprehensive. Your limbs fill with lead, planting you where you stand. “Taehyun, I’m scared,” you say. “Isn’t finding help from a solitary faerie a bit too far? How is trusting Yeonjun any more dangerous than that?” 
Taehyun steps toward you. “He is going to kill us. It’s not if, it’s when. That bastard is going to hurt you. This... This is for us. We are self-sufficient; we don’t need his protection shit.” A bitter tang colors his words. “I know that you’re scared. I won’t let it hurt you; I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise that you’ll be okay. You want to stay, don’t you?” 
You nod. You would even make deals with a kelpie for it.  
“Okay, then, let’s go,” he says, taking off with those words, effectively punctuating the conversation.  
You follow him. 
You grow more anxious the deeper you trudge into the forest without any consolation as the daylight begins creeping away. Following behind Taehyun, the wind whips at the perfect angle so that his form takes most of its terror, allowing you a respite from at least some of the brutal cold. You don’t feel any remorse using him as a shield against the elements—frost runs through his veins. He doesn’t shiver or wince at it. 
Taehyun stops a few feet before a wintry mire framed by crystallized cattails and reeds. Your heart stutters as he looks around to ensure that this is the right spot. The water is dark and deep. You stay a healthy distance away from it. You do not want to find out just how deep it is. 
“Where is it?” you say, keeping your voice low as if the beast might lunge from the water and snatch you up if you don’t. 
Taehyun surveys the forest surrounding you and then the body of water as he always does, and when he looks to you, you already know he’s calculated and planned. He doesn’t face a situation without thought—that notion soothes you, even if it’s to the slightest degree.  
“It won’t come until I call it,” he says, gesturing at those murky and horrible watery depths. Swallowing hard, you consider how close you stand to it. You take a shuffled step back. “When you see it, you need to stay calm. Don’t let it see your fear. It’ll find it amusing and latch onto you. Do you understand?” 
A rush of heavy dread spreads from your core and seizes your lungs at his words. You’ve made it this far. You want to stay. You want to stay, bad. If this thing outsmarts you, you will not go down without swinging this time. You have your daggers, and you know how to wield them. Bravery is most of the battle, isn’t it? 
You muster a nod, trying to give yourself a brave heart, but Taehyun shakes his head. Your eyes must betray how stricken you are. “Do you understand?” he repeats, his voice sharp and grave. 
“I do.” 
He accepts your words, pressing on. “It will try to trip you over your words and spin you into a trap with tricky words. Do not entertain it, even as it tries, okay?” 
You’ve been terrorized by faerie tricks your whole life. You can handle their schemes just fine. “Okay.” 
Taehyun frees a blade from its hiding place and brings it to his palm. He slides it there, slicing it open. Crimson creeps from the slit, running in between his fingers and trickling onto the snow. He’d cut pretty deep. 
“Why are you—Taehyun?” you say, stepping toward him as he curls his wounded hand into a fist over the water, shaking it so as to let the droplets down into the black water. You regret those steps you’d made toward him as something comes crashing through the surface. 
No, rather than emerging from under the surface, the beast is born from the water, manifesting from it as something gangly and wretched. From its pointed ears to its hooves, it pushes up from nothingness until it is standing there, real and terrible before you. Its skin glistens with a thickness like oil and its hair and tail hang in heavy, seaweed-like tendrils, plastered against its body. The scum floating on top of the water clung to its hair and pelt as it rose, twigs and the like poking from its withered body. A bridle cages its head, leather reins dangling down. Of all its awful things, you believe that its eyes are the worst—bone-white and piercing, they send a terror down your spine that solidifies in your bones. You know you will not soon forget the ancient soullessness that lives there. The folk do sometimes resemble the places in which they hail from; you suppose that the kelpie bares striking resemblance to the swirling water that sits at its feet. 
You try not to choke or gasp or react in any way at all, but it isn’t easy. You focus your adrenaline on keeping your breathing as even as you can manage. 
“It has been a long time since I’ve found a human at my doorstep,” the creature says, steam blowing from its nostrils as it snorts. How long might a long time mean to a faerie, especially one you know is so ancient? You hope that your presence does not intrigue the beast at all. 
Taehyun swoops in before you can speak, and you are boundlessly thankful for it. “I’ve come to call on the debt you owe me,” he says. He doesn’t leave any room for any familiarity or playfulness. 
“Is it that time?” the kelpie says, placing one hoof down onto the snow. It had looked so incorporeal and liquid that you half expect it to burst and turn to water as it does, but it climbs out just fine. Very real.  
Taehyun eyes the kelpie as it makes land, dribbling with water and its kelp hair swinging. You swallow hard as it disregards his presence to observe you. You’re used to the folk disregarding you, not this. How many years had you yearned for their attention? Right now, you scare under it.  
“For what do you need my help, boy?” it says, voice gurgled, “And why do you bring this human along? Is it for her? Or, rather, have you brought her as your peace offering?” 
Your legs tremble beneath you.  
“I don’t owe you any peace offering, kelpie,” Taehyun says, his head held righteously high. “You’ll offer me what I ask, or you’ll suffer for it.” 
Shifting under the tense atmosphere, you still don’t speak. In Faerie, debt is law. The folk live by a law that is, like many other things about them, foreign to you. Whatever natural laws by which they govern themselves are vastly lost on you—but of keeping promises and respecting debts, you are very aware. They hate to be indebted—you’re sure it’s why this kelpie is so peevish. You hope that the folk’s need to balance their debts is enough to keep it hospitable.  
The kelpie makes a rumbling and throaty sound that mimics that of a laugh. It rumbles the ground below your feet. “Just as rigid as the last time we met like this,” it says. “I wonder if it's because you’ve inherited your father’s stone heart, or because you fear me?” 
The kelpie remains playful with its intonation, but tension lies thick and dangerous beneath both of their words. You know well enough that the beast is not being light-hearted.  
Taehyun holds his face firm. He refuses to give an inch. “Do not try that with me. You have your word to upkeep for my help.” 
Shimmering under the moon’s light now, the beast treats us with a long moment of hostile silence. You can feel its malintent despite how hollow those eyes remain.  
“What do you ask of me?” it finally says, whipping its drooping tail behind it. 
“There is a rebellion here,” starts Taehyun, shoulders relaxing to the slightest degree as the kelpie defers, “The north is uneasy. I’m optimistic that you’ll lend us your protection and hand, whenever I call on it. Regardless of it being in my interest, I’m sure that you aim to keep your lands peaceful, no?” 
“Rebellion? For what would anything of the courts be in my interest? Of their rebellion or even just their ridiculousness, I do not care. I’ve left your gentry to you, leave me to mine.” 
Taehyun’s nostrils flare. “I’m not asking you to care about the courts, I’m asking you to lend me your help when I ask of it,” he grits out, “Or, rather, I’m not asking. I am informing you that I am expecting you to uphold your debt to me, and you’d better be ready to do so. This is just courtesy.” 
You feel the kelpie’s offense in the hollow quiet that follows Taehyun’s demands. Among many things, the fae are prideful creatures. Your stomach is in terrible knots. Taehyun is just trying to regain the power in the situation. You know that. It doesn’t make you any less scared for your life. With an ancient creature like a kelpie, it is paramount to earn its respect, or else it will push you around. 
Worse than that. It will drag you down into its waters and make your soul into a meal. 
“It’s a pity you think that hag stone will save you from me, human.” The kelpie turns its attention back on you. You bade your knees not to crumple. “It takes much more than that to protect you in places like these. Perhaps you’ll be safe from petty enchantment, though.”  
Taehyun shoves his words in before you can give the kelpie any sort of reaction. Not even a tremble. “Understood?” 
“You’ve made deals with our kind before. The magic reeks on you. It’s lousy enchantment, I could dissolve that geas for you. All you’d have to do is climb up on my back, and I’d grant you your freedom.”  
You can’t help but perk up. The prospect of ridding yourself of the geas placed over you is a painfully delicious one. 
Bristling, Taehyun steps between you and the kelpie. Whether he does it to fight off the beast should it lunge at you or to prevent you from approaching it, you’re unsure. “Do not,” he says. 
“Wasn’t going to.” You say it, and of course it’s true. The kelpie is poking around to see what will most entice you. Regardless, you can’t deny how awfully you wish that geas were gone. It’s the one thing that you fear will tether you to The King’s bidding. No matter how you armor yourselves from the rebellion here in the north, what’s to stop the spies from tugging on the enchanted leash? One command from Cricket, and your body would betray you and walk the whole way there itself. 
Though you don’t verbalize your interest, the kelpie no doubt sees the interest alight in your eyes. It pounces accordingly. “Unless you’d prefer that I give you a whole other enchantment. Protection against any of our kind’s glamours? Permanant true sight? A touch to my pelt would be all it would take for you to make yourself free.” 
Taehyun clicks just the hilt of his sword free from the sheathe. “Stop with the tricks. You can find your fun elsewhere.” 
Like the swampish water behind it, the kelpie stands there totally still, studying Taehyun. You really wish this altercation could wrap up at any pace faster than it currently is. You’re itching to escape those white eyes. They’re much more intimidating as night settles in. What sort of thing had Taehyun even done to indebt a creature like this to him? Once again, you’re left confronting how little you know of him and his past. By the time you’ve come to terms with the last thing, the next arrives to remind you that the folk lead much longer lives than you do. 
It finally speaks again. “Why have you brought this human with you, Lord?” Its furls out the term like a weapon. This bitter intonation that you’ve seen be used multiple times to speak of Taehyun’s title sticks with you. The title is a taunt. In this case, the you know it comes from the kelpie’s place of utter indifference and lack of obeisances toward whatever sovereignty the Courts may claim. The kelpie only answers to the land.  
“Because I needed you to know that your protection will extend to her. Know her face, learn it so that when I call on you, you’ll play your part correctly.” 
“I fail to see why you dote over her safety. Who is the human to you?” The kelpie takes a step forward, its powerful muscles rippling with the moon’s white light on its ink pelt. You mirror it with a step back. Taehyun stays put. “I owe her no help. That’s not how this works. I concede that I am bound to your help, but I do not repay double. You overestimate my generosity.” 
You watch as Taehyun takes on a posture that you’ve come to recognize as his offensive posture, potent adrenaline twisting up your stomach and sending your heart into a fit so fierce that you feel it in all your pulse points. You’re sure that swords are a laughable matter to the kelpie. Iron, though, you’re sure would still burn. Turning your hands to fists, you make a conscious effort not to find your iron weapons. If the kelpie were to see that, it may escalate things. You do not want to escalate.  
It’s only smart for you to consider your disadvantages: Taehyun is wounded. He had literally been struck by an arrow last night. You’re so far into the woods that running would consist of stumbling over roots and avoiding thorny bushes. Taehyun might know them, but you’re fully unfamiliar with a kelpie’s weaknesses, or if they even have any at all. You’re better off appeasing the beast.  
“Taehyun,” you warn. 
He pays it no mind. “I said,” he snarls, “stop with the tricks. You owe your very ability to draw breath to me, and beyond that. It was my neck on the line to grant you that. What I did for you was worth many debts. If you want to settle it all to even, you’ll do it. Don’t play this like a fool.” He doesn’t address the kelpie’s first question. 
Taehyun creeps toward the kelpie. You’re not sure where he sources all that fearlessness from inside himself. He’s way too close for your comfort. “What are you doing?” you hiss, quiet and meant for just him. There is no way he intends to fight this thing right now. You’d prefer taking the risk of trusting Yeonjun’s word over this any day. 
“Even the general”—the kelpie spits that word with a similar distaste as he had Taehyun’s title—“knew when he was in over his head. Ask a more respectable payment of me.” 
You suck in a breath. “Let’s just go,” you tell Taehyun. “We don’t need to do this; we didn’t need to in the first place.”  
As Taehyun takes one last step toward the kelpie, he reaches a sword’s distance from it.  
Really? Is this happening right now? 
“I’m giving you grace right now, kelpie,” he says, his voice pure warning, “My father is the one who landed you like that. It’s humorous that you’d even speak of him while we’re sorting out the debts that you incurred because of him. I suggest that you give up the sly act.” 
Once again, a charged and meaningful pause rings throughout the forest. The silence speaks volumes of how the kelpie takes his words.  
It’s a flash of movement, the two dark figures like blurs as Taehyun’s hand flies out to grab a hold of the reins that hang from its head and the kelpie rears back with a bone-piercing, harrowing whinny. He braces himself on its side and uses its flank to push off of. The creature bucks fast, but Taehyun is faster.  
The rage that it bellows with guts you. The forest ground trembles with its frantic clambering, hooves battering the snow.  
The kelpie’s frenzy ends as Taehyun takes the reins in both hands. It doesn’t make any more attempts to send him off, nor does it stumble about wildly. It settles. The kelpie bows its head. Your hands cover your mouth. They’re ready to muffle your scream. You wait for Taehyun to become one with the beast’s figure and for it to drag him down to the depths of its water that don’t see the sun’s light. Nothing happens. Instead, he slips off the back of the kelpie without any trouble, landing with a thud back on the ground.  
“Fix your appearance,” Taehyun commands.  
You allow a sound of surprise to slip as the beast melts down, shedding water to the ground and crumpling over. You watch it shrink all the way down until, where once the gangly beast had stood, the form of a faerie man stands. He unfurls from the forest floor to his full height, taller than Taehyun and reedy in his limbs. His hair cascades down from his head in shaggy, damp brown locks with twigs and leaves tangled in. Sharp faerie ears protrude from it. It confirms to you that this is just another form of the kelpie, not someone else entirely. 
“You’re a fool,” the man says, turning on Taehyun with wild eyes.  
You join his confrontation on Taehyun. “What the hell is going on?” you say. You’re still jittery with the urge to run. 
Taehyun entertains only you, saying, “I hoped that he’d just make things easy in the first place.” 
The man, dripping with water from his tattered, sopping rags for clothes, sneers. “I would not serve you if you fucking killed me. Of course you had to take my bridle.” 
You give Taehyun an expectant look. You’re in dire need of being filled in. 
“His bridle,” he says, grabbing the reins that still hang from the man’s face even in his human form and tugging him into a walk into the forest, “I grabbed it. He serves me, now. He can hate it all he wants, but he’ll do what I ask.” 
The thought makes you deeply uncomfortable, but you can’t pin exactly why. It lives somewhere around the place inside you that loathed the way the folk made your kind into their glamoured servants.  
“We’re just going to bring him back with us?” You trail them tentatively back through the woods that you had arrived from. “Like a prisoner, or something?” 
“Exactly like a prisoner,” the man says, excited to get a hit in on Taehyun. Of course, he’s unhappy.  
He stumbles as Taehyun tugs him forward by his bridle. “Shut your mouth,” Taehyun says. It’s more commanding than angry. “What’s your name?” he asks him.  
The man looks as though he wants to deny him that knowledge. Names are a powerful thing to a faerie. They spend their lives hiding them away—to give away their real name would make them totally vulnerable to the whims of whoever knows and uses it. However, you assume that whatever hold Taehyun has over him now works in a similar way, and his lips move despite his revolt.  
“Beomgyu,” he answers, eyes full of bite. 
You climb between a pair of close-resting, gnarled trees. “Does he have to keep that thing on, Taehyun?” you say, struggling with the sight of him being dragged along. It’s unsettling. “Like, does it work without that?” 
Stopping, Taehyun reaches up to pull the bridle off and around from Beomgyu’s head. He lets it fall to the snow. “You can use his name if you need to command him and I’m not around. He’ll have to do what you say.” Pushing Beomgyu into a walk, he says, “You’re going to protect us if in any case we need it. That includes her. You’re going to stay within my estate, unless one of us brings you somewhere. You won’t try your hand at any escape, and you won’t make any attempts to harm us either directly or by omitting something you are aware will do so.” 
You rub your hands together to generate heat as he lists his commands. Why would he even need those precautions, if Beomgyu is supposed to be his compulsory servant now? Would that not mean that he’d be unable to harm him? Either Taehyun is being extra precautious, or the command he has over him is weaker than you had thought at first. Beomgyu scowls the whole way through. Perhaps if Taehyun had not spoken those exact words, he would have lunged at him. 
As the kelpie stalls, Taehyun urges him forward once again with a shove. “Walk,” he snaps. “You did this to yourself. If you’d been a respectable man, I’d have only asked for your help when we needed. Now, you’re following us everywhere.” He allows him to stew on that for a little before saying, “You do your job well and I’ll let you return to your waters. I’ll forget I even made you my servant, and you’ll live knowing you’re no longer in my debt. You’ll not have to worry that someone might tame you again, because I already had, and I won’t even utilize it. We’ll never even make each other’s acquaintance again. You’ll be free to toil in your forest, and I will stay far away. All I need is for you to keep us alive and unharmed.” 
At least he doesn’t intend to keep him forever as an eternal servant. Most faeries that fall into debts work their long lives as living servants. Your years as Nut-hatch's worker taught you how that life whittles your soul down. Hundreds of years of just that is unfathomable. Maybe that is the cost of betraying honor here, though.
“So be it,” Beomgyu says, teeth gritted.  
You continue to trudge through the forest behind them. 
Once you’re within the walls of the estate and Beomgyu is given a place to stay, you turn to Taehyun. “What part of that was safer than trusting Yeonjun?” you say.  
His eyes drop closed and he sighs. “It was worlds safer,” he grits out. “I knew what I was doing. You had that hag stone, and I’d have cut him down if he tried anything.” 
He stretches out his shoulders, shifting them uncomfortably under the fabric of his tunic. You know that his sewn-up wound bothers him. Could it be getting infected? You hope not—an infection this early on would most definitely mean it would be a nasty one. If only he weren’t insistent on pretending that it’s nothing. “I don’t think you could”—you gesture at your own shoulder—“you’re going to infect your shoulder. I don’t know how to treat an infected wound that big.” 
“I wouldn’t have even gone there if I thought I couldn’t handle it. I had a plan. I can protect us just fine.” 
Us. You’ve been wondering what your purpose here might become once you abandon returning to your duties. Would you be staying with Yeonjun? If he betrays you, and Taehyun were to push you out now that you’re no longer partners in duty, where would you go? Crawl to the doorstep of some random faerie to place yourself in their services, just to find yourself a warm place to stay? Taehyun now makes it clear that he still sees the two of you as a pair, but why? You still can’t understand why he’d suddenly switched up the moment you said you’d stay here even if he left. Realistically, he should’ve killed you for being a traitor to the king that he serves. You know that his intentions are more complex than that, but you fail to grasp where they lie. His actions and his words clash.  
“And when Yeonjun doesn’t betray us? What will all of this be for?” 
“This doesn’t stop at the prince,” he says, “there are more players than just him and The Queen. Any one of them could determine that we’re liabilities. Don’t you think that we should prepare for that? We came here as spies infiltrating their court from the very king that they rebel against; of course they’ll have plans for us. 
“It’s still best that you stay your distance from the prince from this point on, regardless, unless you bring the kelpie.” 
Your mouth drops open, brows pinching. You don’t like the thought of being chaperoned at all. If Yeonjun is to betray you, then it’ll be your own fault. You can take the consequences of your actions just fine. “I think I can make that decision for myself,” you say, voice low. “And I can protect myself, too. Are you saying my skills aren’t up to your standards? Well, I didn’t spend that time working on them for nothing, and I don’t plan on stopping. I know I’m not perfect, but I think I can at least use a dagger adequately, no?” 
“You know that’s not what I meant,” Taehyun says, eyes flat with frustration. “You can protect yourself well. I know that. What I mean is that you shouldn’t rest your life on his integrity. I have no doubts that you’d be able to protect yourself from him alone. He’s delicate. The King doesn’t pamper his children, but I have no doubt that the prince hasn’t wielded a sword anywhere other than in sparring. But you don’t know if you’ll ever truly be alone, and you don’t know whether or not he’s setting you up. I think you can at least agree that it’s best that you can acknowledge that and behave accordingly, no?” 
“I rested my life on your integrity today. Am I supposed to trust you blindly, too? What if you’re just stringing me along until you kill me for my treason to The King? You were his spy, no? How many years did you serve him? Why have you given it up so easily? Why are you staying here? None of it makes sense to me, but I still trusted you. Was I wrong for that? Are you a liar, Taehyun? Does your tongue tell lies?” 
His eyes crystallize, a few degrees colder than you’d seen them all day. “I can lie,” he says. “But would I have done what I did today if I intended to kill you? It’s time that you see that actions tell you so much more than words ever will.” 
Again, he treads around your questions about his intentions. “Why are you staying here?” you repeat, studying him with your suspicion.  
He’s quiet. 
“Answer me,” you demand. 
“Is this not my home?” he says. 
Unsatisfied, you press more. “I thought you hated this place. Why would you want to stay here? Don’t you have an awful reputation here?” 
His eyebrows shoot up, but his face stays hauntingly blank. You’re used to his blank mask, but this feels different. “If you think that I left here because of my reputation, then you’ve fooled yourself.” He begins making for his quarters. “I have obligations to fulfilling my father’s role as Lord of this estate,” he says before turning and ending the conversation on his terms. 
That leaves you just as confused. If he cared about his responsibilities here, he would’ve never left them in the first place to become a spy under The King. It makes no sense. Whether or not it’s true, you’re positive that you aren’t getting the whole story. You sigh and drag your feet bed-bound. You hope to never have another day as unending as today again. 
You dodge Beomgyu for the entirety of the day, not sure what to make of a new presence around the estate, even if it’s an indebted servant beast of a presence. You’d half expected Taehyun to rope him up in the horse stalls outside, making that his permanent residence, but he’d given Beomgyu a place somewhere in the servant’s quarters. You’re glad of it—you may be wary of him, but you don’t wish anything like that for him. Now that he has a more human form, you find yourself able to empathize with him more than you were when he was a hulking, killer water horse. He doesn’t necessarily run around much—without a doubt because he’s not the happiest about being forced into Taehyun’s servitude. You don’t blame him. 
Despite your efforts, he enters the kitchens while you’re alternating between chomping on a slice of bread and a platter of dates. He eyes you. Though in this form his eyes are not as piercing, they’re still heavy.  
You offer him a slice of the bread and push the platter toward him. “Hungry?” 
He shakes his head. “I don’t eat the way you do.” 
Then why’d he come to the kitchens? Either he’s exploring, or he came looking for you. “Not even like this?” you ask, gesturing down to his form. 
“I eat when someone is foolish enough to come to my waters,” he says. “I thought I’d be eating yesterday, but the Lord subverted those plans, didn��t he?” 
You laugh a bit, though it’s absurd to laugh about being eaten with the same creature that had intended to do so.  
“I sometimes go for more years than the entire span of your human life without eating,” he says, tilting his head to one side. Shaggy locks of hair follow his head with it. It’s unkempt and in dire need of a washing to rid it of dirt. 
You gesture at his dirt-smudged cheek. “Do you want to clean up? I’m sure Taehyun has some clothes to spare for you. There are some pretty nice bathing quarters, here, too. The kind that makes you reluctant to get out.” 
A wry smile cracks across his face, a bit feral like the rest of him. “I’m not afraid of some dirt. These are my clothes. I’d go naked before dressing myself in his.” 
“Okay, then,” you snort, shrugging. “No baths.” You rip a bite out of the wrinkled fruit in your hand. “How did you even end up... in debt to Taehyun?” you ask, eager to fill yourself in. If Taehyun insists on not telling you anything, you’ll find it in other places. You’d picked up that it had something to do with his father, but you need to know more. The more you’re able to piece together, the better you’ll be able to make sense of Taehyun’s behaviors. You hope so, at least. He holds is truths very close to himself, and almost everybody else seems to harbor a poignant distaste for him. 
Beomgyu’s face sours up again. “I had a dispute with his father. The General was going to raze my forest and kill each one of us. I’d called on him and asked for his help. I’m not sure what he did, but The General never came. If I knew it’d land me like this, though...” He grimaces. “I’d have just let him make me history.” 
Reigning in the laugh that bubbles in your chest at his resentment, because you’re positive that you finding humor in his misfortunes would ruffle him, you nod and pocket that information. “Then, why didn’t you just agree to help when he tried to collect your debt in the first place?” 
“I was going to,” he snaps. “He’s just a prideful creature. No patience. If he’d waited a few moments, I’d have agreed.” 
Humming, you don’t tell him that he’s definitely the one who wound himself up like this. Taehyun had made it clear multiple times that Beomgyu needed to stop playing around.  
Taehyun’s voice comes from the doorway, cutting into the conversation with its matter-of-factness. “Speaking bad on my name while I’m away, kelpie? Should I amend your list of commands to include watch your mouth?” His tone is bare and humorless. 
Beomgyu bristles beside you, about to rebut him before you spy the weapon at Taehyun’s hip and interrupt before they can come to verbal blows. “Where are you going?” 
Taehyun rips his icy gaze from Beomgyu to you. “To Court,” he answers, plain and as if it were obvious. 
Furrowing your brows, you say, “Court? Why didn’t you tell me we’re going? I don’t want to get ready in a rush.” Your mind turns. You weren’t even sure what you’d be doing now that you’re no longer here as spies. There’s no need to infiltrate Court, now. Would you just be attending as revelers? Not to mention that Yeonjun no doubt has no clue that you’re even staying. You hadn’t seen him since you’d ran to him yesterday morning and had your world thrown for a loop as he revealed his truth. How had so much happened in one day?  
His mouth hardens. “You’re not attending with me,” he says, knuckles turning white over the pommel of his sword. “You’ll stay here with him today.” 
Your heart thrums in your chest; not with fear like it had been doing so much over the span of the last few days, but with anger. “What?” you say, voice strained with shock. “No. I’m getting ready; wait for me, or don’t. I don’t care.” You spin on your heels to do just that, gritting your teeth. He thinks he can tell you what to do? Is that it? You don’t care what he’s done for you, or what power he thinks he has over you because of it. You’d left your life of taking commands behind for a reason. This was supposed to be new beginnings, not just your past life under a new skin. 
He catches your upper arm frantically. Whipping your head to him, you rip yourself away from him and back off. “I said, no!” you say, lips twitching into a heavily emotional scowl. It’s not just that he’s telling you to stay back today. You know that what he’s doing is much bigger than that. It sends memories of a life in a seamstress’ cottage flooding back. You struggle to keep your head afloat, to keep yourself from drowning in it, but they’re old and deep wounds. 
“Oh, look at that,” Beomgyu croons. “You are just like him. Except, your father was a general, so at least he had some reason to believe that folk would obey him. You? Not so much.” 
Taehyun’s head snaps to him. He barks a command. “Leave.” 
His eyes flash and he reels against it, but Beomgyu’s body moves against his own will. There’s a spark of ravenous hate smeared across his lips and in the glare he gives Taehyun as he leaves. 
“So, you’re just going to hand out commands and expect them to be followed now, huh? Because you’re suddenly just... taking up this role as Lord? Well, you’re not my Lord. You’re not his, either.” 
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Stop that.” 
Laughing a bitter laugh, you spit, “Stop what? Oh, I’m sorry. I should just obey you like a good human does, huh? ‘Cause that’s what we’re for, right? My bad, I’ll get a head start on working around the estate—what would you like for dinner, my lord? Or, do you need me to press your clothes?” Your words are angry, but you choke toward the end around the lump of emotion in the back of your throat. 
He takes both your arms into his hands, his brow furrowed hard. “Stop it,” he snarls. “Stop it, damn it. Don’t do that. You’re not a servant here. Don’t you try to cry to me, I expect better than this from you. That’s not it at all.” 
You shove back on his chest, putting some distance between you. “I’m not crying,” you say. “And, so what if I was? There’s nothing wrong with it. I think it’d do you a little good to cry some time.” 
“It’s weak,” he says. “Pitying yourself just ends up making you a fool. If you just sit around and wallow, you’ll just stay where you are. The only thing you can do is act.”  
That sounds about right coming from his lips. “Is that what your father taught you?” you ask. “Well, he was wrong. You can cry and try and take care of things at the same time.” 
“I’m just asking you to stay back today,” he says. 
“Why?” you say, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Tell me why? It’s not like we’re spying around or have some sort of mission to keep secret. Why can’t I just go enjoy it like that for once?” 
“Can you just do this for me?” Taehyun says, jaw tight. “I just need you to stay.” 
You’ve become sick of him not telling you things. Being in the dark never feels good, but it especially feels like shaky ground now. If he thinks you’ll be attacked, so what? You’re the one who wanted to stay here. Let you come. You’re better off being attacked as a group of three than he would be by himself, no? 
You decide to lean into his own concerns to appeal. “What if they’re waiting for you? Wouldn’t it be better that Beomgyu and I are there? Isn’t that why you did that whole thing yesterday?” 
He shakes his head. “If they are, then it’ll be easier for me to slip out if it’s just me.” 
Crossing your arms over your chest, you determine by the solemn lines to his face that he’s not going to give. “Fine,” you say. “I’ll stay here today. If it’s so necessary, I’ll stay here. Do you want me to stay inside the estate, too? Could I go see Yeonjun?” 
“I’d prefer that you stay here,” he says, slow and measured and veiling tension. 
You shake your head, pairing it with a tired laugh. “Yeah, right, I forgot. He’s a threat too. Well, you have fun then.” Turning and departing from the kitchens, you leave behind your bread and dates. So much for lunch. 
Reaffirming Taehyun’s ability to lie, it was not just that one day. The next day, Taehyun slipped out for Court, sword on hip and pleading with you to stay in the estate on the terms that he believes they still might have an attack planned for you. It turned into a week that you were cooped up in the estate, and then two. The same walls you’d once looked at in wonder for their beauty became the ones you stared at mindlessly during the most boring of hours. 
You spend most of your time listening to Beomgyu drone on and on about the ways he’d tricked faeries and humans. He’s quite odd, but it’s not like you can blame him for it—most of the folk are odd to you, and he’s an ancient beast among them. You feel like that warrants a spunky personality like his. He’s nice company, anyway. Such a long life lends you an impressive wealth of stories. 
You can’t help but think about Yeonjun. He’s got to have seen Taehyun at Court by now. If there haven’t been any incidents at this point, doesn’t that mean that he doesn’t intend to betray you? The images of him thinking that you’re avoiding him makes you want to slip out to see him. You not sure why you don’t. Maybe the lies that sat between you affect you more than you thought they did. You’re quite the hypocrite, though. You’d kept secrets just as much as he had. 
You miss those stolen nights you two had shared. A knot, queasy and pessimistic, sits in your belly each time you lay in your bed and remember them and tells you that you’ll never see anything like that again. You’d allowed a girlish part of you to blossom beside him—a part of you that could throw caution to the wind and melt into the fun things in life.  
As you rot your days away in that estate that has become more like a dungeon than an estate, you allow yourself to miss him only a little. Once it begins transforming into a certain impending doom about how you’d thought that staying here would be everything you’d ever wanted, you find something else to do. If you aren’t toiling around by yourself or listening to Beomgyu drone, you’re practicing your combat skills. The times that Taehyun stops in to help you, it ends with you insisting that you’re fine to make appearances in Court by now, or at least see Yeonjun with Beomgyu in attendance. He never agrees. Each time, it’s the same awful excuse: Tensions are worse. He doesn’t know if they’re planning something. When you ask why he demands that he can attend, but you and Beomgyu can’t join: He’s a lord. It’s his duty to attend Court. 
The solstice is nearing, too. You’d looked forward to it, honestly. Hopefully Taehyun will let you attend by then. 
You sit crisscrossed on the hardwood flooring, running your fingers through your hair. Beomgyu is stood a couple feet away, and makes big gestures as he explains the one time he’d been called to attend Court as a solitary faerie. Moments like this have kept you grounded over the weeks. 
“And the stupid crone tried to say that I was wrong for catching him,” he exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head as if the ancient memory were still as fresh as day one.  
You laugh. “What did you even do to end up there, anyway?” you ask. You can hardly picture Beomgyu in the setting of Court, even more so meeting with The Queen and her council. Moreover, you’re intrigued to know what he’d said to talk himself out of trouble. You’re amazed that he managed to make a sufficient enough case to save his life. 
“They said that I’d been taking too many of their folk—hah! I must eat too, you know? Oh, the pretention! Do they expect me to starve? If a fool lands themselves on my pelt and then in my waters, it’s only natural that they’re eaten. I’m simply freeing them from one more mud-brained fool. The Courts are full of those, too. It’d take me a millennium to eat them all. What are they so worried for, I wonder? They do the very same to their own people.” 
“Aren’t they ridiculous?” you say. Like you, he’d been an outsider in Court. Though you’re sure that it’s just as, if not more, intricate to those well-versed in it, to the ones like you two... It’s odd to see. You had grown used to it in the time you spent there, but you still know what the first day had felt like. Anyway, you hadn’t spent as many days there as you feel you had. All that had happened had bloated that time in your memories. “To be quite honest with you, your kind are all so odd to me. I grew up among you, but still... my instincts are always kinda at odds with my surroundings, you know?” 
Beomgyu considers that for a moment, as if trying to view the fae from a human’s eyes. “Even when we look so similar?” he asks you, grabbing at a lock of his hair and making a round gesture over himself. 
You nod. “Even in this form, you just... I don’t feel like I’m looking into the face of another human. Maybe that’s because I watched you turn to this from a horse, though.” 
“A kelpie,” he corrects. “What gives it away?” 
“Sorry, a kelpie,” you snicker. You look over his face. It’s so close to right, but somewhere in your mind you can decipher that something is not right. Like all of the fae, though, there’s an unspeakable beauty there, beyond explanation. It demands your human attention. Even the most terrifying are beautiful. “Well, for starters, your ears. They’re pointy. All of you have that, and none of us do. And then... I guess”—you narrow your eyes—“your eyes? They’re just different. And your limbs are pretty lanky, too.” 
He frowns as if he’s unable to see it. “You don’t sound so sure,” he says, joining you on the floor. “I’ve had quite some time to look at myself in my life. I don’t think I ever saw any of that when I was in this form...” 
“I’m sure you did,” you say, lips turning up in a playful mock. A water creature no doubt has an eternity to stare into the water at themselves in its rippled reflection. “Did you do a lot of that?” 
Scowling, he huffs. “No. But I’m sure you would, if you looked like this, huh?” 
You roll your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” His face morphs from dismay to careful concentration. Frowning, you look around and ask, “What?” 
“I hear somebody,” he answers, pushing off the floor. 
Your spine tingles, but you search for the logical explanation. “Like... Taehyun?” 
“No... the walk is definitely different.” He strains to listen. “He’s usually pretty quiet. This one... they don’t conceal their footsteps.” 
Neither of you can get to a window to scope anything out before there’s three heavy knocks from the door, the metal knocker ringing. You shoot him a wary look and tilt your head toward the door. You mouth the word, answer? 
He considers for a moment and then nods. Well, he’s the one able to hear their approach. You trust they’re at least not imminent danger. You pull the door open. A breeze of frost comes rushing in as you do, blowing your hair and as jarring as a hit to the face might be. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long you’ve forgotten how bitter the cold here is.  
Behind the door your eyes lock with a pair of inky ones, settled into a pinched and snooty face. “Letters from the palace I have for you, my lady,” she says, her voice mousy. She holds out a stack full of letters to you, all held together by some twine. 
An errand runner. You furrow your brows down at her and accept them. The little hob wrings out her long fingers. “From who?” you ask her.  
She bows her head to you hurriedly. “Oh, from the prince, my lady! He sends these for you!” 
You look down at the stack in your hands, and your heart begins to run amok in your chest. He’d sent to you? You thank her. She scurries off in the snow and you close the door, sharing a look with Beomgyu. 
“The prince?” he says, brows shot up. “Meaning, The King’s son? He’s sent letters for you?” 
Nodding, you hold the stack close to you. Your feet ache to find your quarters and to begin tearing into each one; you’re ravenous for any sort of word from him. Does he hate you? Does he miss you? At least he still thinks of you. You’d worried that he might’ve found another lady of the court to dote on in your absence... 
“Yeah,” you say over your shoulder, more interested in tearing the letters open than explaining to him why the prince would be sending you letters. Curiosity sits in his furrowed brow. You hadn’t exactly prattled on about Yeonjun to him. Had you even mentioned him at all? 
He tags along as you head to your room and plop onto your bed. You don’t tell him to leave you; opening these letters alone... You appreciate his presence in some odd way.  
Unstringing the pile, you pull the first one out and run a thumb over the wax seal that identifies it as definitely from the High Prince—a fine silver dusted over white wax and branded with the image of Yeonjun’s insignia, the fox. It’s uneven and dribbled, clearly sealed by Yeonjun himself with the insignia ring he often wears on his finger. You pry it open and then unfurl the parchment inside. 
Do you intend to return to Court? Perhaps we keep missing each other. Though, the Lord is always there. I wonder where you are. If my letter reaches you, please write me back. Or better, come see me. My doors are open to you.  
They always have been. 
Yeonjun 
Beomgyu’s gaze burns holes through you as you read this first one. You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you reach for the next one. This one twists a hot knife of guilt into your belly and up into your heart. 
Have I done something wrong?  
The General’s son continues to attend Court, and though I seek your lovely face beside his, you’re never there. I’m under the impression that he wants you not seeing me. Although, perhaps that’s only because I loathe what your absence might mean otherwise. 
Is it because I learned of your identity? Is it that you think I hate you? 
Allow me to make it utmost clear: I do not. I doubt I could if I tried. You’re quite the heart stealer.  
I know I sound a bit ridiculous telling you I love you when we only knew each other for so long. I understand that. It’s that sort of love that ought to burn bright and short, right? But I won’t let it. Not us. 
Some might say that a love found so easily is fickle. That it doesn’t exist. I say it does, because I have felt it. 
Do you remember how it felt the first time our eyes met, too? How odd is it to feel something so deep inside you, but also so far beyond your reach that you cannot alter its course?  
Please write me, pretty. If I can’t see your face, at least allow me the pleasure of knowing that you’re okay. 
Yeonjun 
“What do they say?” Beomgyu asks, timbred voice whipping you apart from the words on paper that manage to send your heart hurting.  
You’re not entirely sure how to tell him that they’re desperate letters of the High Prince’s love for you, a worthless human girl that had avoided him on purpose. He probably wouldn't believe you, anyway. Leaving behind your old life, you had pleaded with the sky to make your life something worth note. It seems that it had answered. Life works in odd ways.  
“A lot,” you say, brushing him off. Your voice cracks with the word, though,  
Hearing the veiled emotion, he frowns, inching forward to take a peek. “Why are you upset?” he pries, and then gasps as a thought formulates in his head. “Have they called you to be tried by the council?” He considers his own suggestion for a long moment and then shakes his head. “You hardly have gone anywhere enough to cause that degree of trouble, though.”  
You let your face drop into your hands. Is the tremor in your chest from laughter, or from crying? You can’t tell. Maybe it’s both. 
The kelpie makes an unsure sound, clearing his throat. “I... uh, I jest...” 
Collecting yourself, you say, “No. I’m not being called in for trial.” You reach for the next letter.  
The next envelope has dried up rose petals that come falling out when you pull out the letter. The flower of love. 
Have you left the north? Could you not have at least lent me one last look at your face before doing so? I don’t mean to be so pathetic, but my heart is lonesome. I thought we’d have more time. Hadn’t you wanted to stay with me?  
If you still reside in his estate, I send these letters to you. I’m not sure if they’ll reach you, but I hope that they’ll move you. Don’t you know that I’d give you anything? 
Please come see me. I beg. Let’s talk. I just want to know what’s wrong. 
Yeonjun 
Why hadn’t you at least gone and told him that you’ve stayed? How had you allowed yourself to feel fear when you think of him? You don’t deserve his love.  
You don’t even know if you deserve love at all. All it would’ve taken was one night of slipping out. He deserved to know that you’re okay. You don’t remember being this selfish. When had this happened? Maybe this is just what happens when someone spends a lifetime not allowed to think of themselves before serving others. You don’t want to be selfish, though.  
The next one you open is more raw. Hurt. The paper, scrawled in writing that becomes less elegant and more frenzied as you read down it, crumples in your hand. 
If you think that I’m the sort of man that will easily forget what we’ve shared, I am not. I love you. I love you. I love you. Please return to my arms. They ache for you. They remember your weight, and they won’t soon forget it.  
Do I need to say it anymore?  
I love you, darling. It’s making me sick.  
Yeonjun 
You stuff the letters back in their envelopes and shove them into a box in your wardrobe. If you don’t, you’ll read them over until you’re ill. Once over was enough for you. 
“The Lord would have my pelt if I let you leave,” Beomgyu, crossing his arms firmly over his chest, says. “Let alone by yourself.” Realizing that his words insinuate that Taehyun holds any true power over him, he backtracks. “If it weren’t for the harness, I’d be unconcerned with his anger, but... Of course, you know, I’m obligated by my imposition to his word, so...” 
Tugging your boots on, you say, “So, tell him I commanded you to stay. You’ll be fine.”  
You had waited for Taehyun to leave for Court, anyway. You have hours of the night to sly-foot your way around him. 
You’d moped around for a few more days, your gut heavy with stones each time you remember Yeonjun’s letters. Stuffing them into a box, no matter how deep into the corner of your wardrobe, still could not wipe those words from your mind. You’d turned them over and over until you couldn’t handle imagining him writing those letters with a hopeful heart any longer.  
The solstice is only a few days away now, too. You’d been bound to the estate for weeks. Although you’re unsure what Taehyun’s real intentions are in boarding you in, you can no longer even care if leaving will end up getting you attacked. You’ve become a bird with clipped wings.  
Even if your wings are out of order, you’ll walk your way to your freedom. Hell, you’d crawl there. It just so happens that Yeonjun’s doorway feels like freedom in this moment.  
Like he’d always said, the doors remain unbarred. You don’t even have to use the metal knocker; you just push through the doors of swirling white engravements. Just as if nothing had changed. He’d been waiting for you. 
Instead of Yeonjun in his quarters, you find a brownie diligently working on doing up Yeonjun’s bedding. When she turns to you, her hands continue their efforts. 
“The prince is not here right now, dear,” she says, snout twitching. Round eyes recognize you before you can introduce yourself. “He’s only just made for Court, though. You should catch him quite quickly, if you mean to.” 
It seems he hasn’t given up searching for you in Court, either. You offer her your gratitude and slip out from his room. Picking up the hems of your dress, you race to catch Yeonjun before he’s arrived at Court. Once he does, things get more sticky—if Taehyun spots you... Pushing down the anxiety that bubbles up at the thought, you cross your fingers. Let luck be on your side.  
Your Court dress, though heavy, feels nice on your skin. Although you often look down on court goers for their pompousness, you can’t deny how good it feels to fit in. That’s perhaps the reason you cling to Court the way you do; you’re beyond desperate for belonging. 
On the plush, snow-dusted bits of the forest’s floor, you spot a set of footsteps. They’re quickly being filled with the flurries. You clasp your hands in an overwhelming bout of gratitude—luck had listened, this time. Those tracks are as fresh as can be. You double your pace. 
Around a bend, you’re overjoyed to see his figure walking there. Finally hearing you coming over the roar of snowfall, he spins. His face pinches and then drops as he recognizes you. 
“You... You came?” he says. Disbelief flips his lips into a frown. “You got my letters?” 
“I did,” you answer, catching your breath. “I’m so sorry.” 
A few feet float between you, the space not yet closed but so magnetic. His cheeks are tinged pink with the cold. Yours must be too.  
“I’d thought you left. I thought I’d never see you again.” 
Your chest caves in a little at the hurt in his voice and the way it clashes with the longing in his eyes. He wants to be angry; he wants to yell at you. He can’t do either when he’s just thankful to see your face. You had missed his just as much. 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat. “It shouldn’t have happened.” 
Yeonjun approaches you and takes your face into his hands. His fingers are ice on your skin. He swallows in your face, soft black eyes darting from your eyes to your lips and around the rest of it; just like he’d begged you to let him do in his letters. 
“Why?” Yeonjun asks you, brushing your hair back with his fingers like he’s just testing the feel of it. 
You don’t know how to answer him. You could tell him a lot of things: Taehyun told me to stay away. He had told me that you’d hurt me. I’d started to believe him. I became scared of you. We had lied to each other. None of them feel adequate in this moment, so you shake your head. 
His eyes harden to a degree as you don’t answer. “Why wouldn’t you come talk to me, pretty?” he urges. “If something was wrong, why couldn’t you come to me? We can’t leave things broken. I sent you weeks of letters. Weeks.” 
Weeks? You’d only seen four.  
“Finally, I got smart enough to send them when he’s at Court. And then you show up here. Tell me, how am I to think that you’re okay? When he won’t even let you speak with me?” 
You blink once. Twice. Taehyun had been intercepting letters. A pit of anger flares in your belly. Whatever this protecting thing he’s doing really is, you’re sick of it. Since when had he become your keeper? He’d demanded that Yeonjun was trying to do just that, but here he is, and you have no clue why he’s doing it. 
“I didn’t know you’d sent letters until yesterday,” you tell him. “I should’ve come and seen you.” 
Running his thumb over your cheek, he murmurs, “You’re not going back there. Please, tell me you’ll stay with me. If you’re to stay here in the north forever, let it be with me. We can’t slip around like this forever.” 
Shaking your head in his hands, you pull back. You can’t decipher the dread that washes over you at his suggestion once again. Your heart is wary with the need to do just that—to not return to the estate where you’d become some sort of prisoner. Something washes over you and tells you that it won’t go the way you’d wanted, just as most things in your life hadn’t. 
Seeing the way you retract, Yeonjun becomes more desperate. “Please,” he says, hands finding your shoulders to hold you as if you’ll leave him there.  
“We’ll figure it out,” you say. “Just give me a few days to think about it, okay?” 
His face stays drawn as if he wants to argue it, but he relents. Taking your frozen hands into his own and wrapping them up in attempts to warm them, he says, “Okay. Okay, let’s get away from this blizzard, then. I’ll wait for you, love.” 
Your chest sizzles. The cold isn’t so bad, today. In a way, you’d missed it. You nod.  
Yeonjun brings you to his chambers and urges you to settle into a plush seat. You run your hands over the embroidered whorls of thread on the cushions as you watch him rummage through a chest. “What are you looking for?” you ask him, drinking in his figure. He’d switched his Court shirts for some more comfortable wear, but even in those he looks princely. He’s so pretty. Your heart flutters as he fishes out what he’d been searching for and turns to you with a smile. He settles beside you carrying a leatherbound book and a miniature wood sculpture of a girl. 
“These,” he says, setting them down on the cushion between you.  
You pick up the wood thing, looking over its painted pink cheeks and feeling the carvings that make its face. It’s fitted with a dress; one unlike any you’d ever seen. Your brow furrows. “What’s this thing?” you ask. 
“It’s called a doll,” he says explains. You feel his eyes on you, watching your reaction, not on the thing in your hands. “Human girls carry them around to play with. They change the dresses and stuff. They even make things for them to hold, but... I couldn’t get ahold of any of those.”  
Heart stuttering, you look at the wood-carved thing. “Human girls?” you ask, imagining a life where you too could have worried only about what dress your toy would wear. You revere the resilience your younger self had to have. At least you didn’t know any better; you didn’t know how you could’ve had it. That ignorance saved you. The painted eyes of the doll stare back at you. 
“Kinda cute, huh?” he says, smiling and scooting closer to fiddle with the thing’s hair. “They even do their hair up all pretty.” Looking back up to you, he says, “It’s a shame that no human who has ever grown up here knows of things like these. Simple joys.” 
You nod, a little choked up. “Yeah. I wish I had. It would have been nice to have something like this as a girl.”  
He tucks some hair behind your ear to get a better look at your face from the side. “How did you ever end up being a spy?” 
Tearing your gaze from the doll to meet his, you find a sadness there despite you not even having told him yet. It’s as if he knows it’ll hurt him already. You fiddle with the little doll’s dress as you recount. “I was a servant to a seamstress,” you start. “A royal seamstress, too. She was favored well by the gentry. She brought in hordes of clients and made dresses and Court clothes for them—but, really, her work mostly ended at being there to hear what they’d want and inlaying the dresses with her magic when they’d ask for it. The rest was my work. Taking their measurements, making their dresses... I worked her shop as soon as I became able to.” Memories of cruel and wicked faces that snickered at your expense or those who found it entertainment to scare you come back, as fresh as ever. Those memories never leave you; the ones so early on that they’d calcified into permanent parts of your personality. That terrified little girl will always be somewhere in your mind. She surfaces quite a lot, these days.  
“There was this one time...” you say, trailing off to trudge up a more awful memory. “A Lady had come in to have a dress made. She brought a guard along with her. He was this massive troll with grey skin like a toad.” You’d recall his details without any trouble for the rest of your life, you think. “I’d ran off to grab some fabric for the Lady, and he followed,” you say, voice wavering just how your little heart had wavered as you had turned around from the bolts of fabric to see the goblin stood there. “He yanked me around by my hair until I sobbed, and then he had me get on the floor and beg him to let me live.” You know now that of course he wasn’t going to kill you—he wouldn’t want problems with Nut-hatch—but you hadn’t known it then. You thought you were dead. “When he had enough of his fun, he let me go. When the other two saw how hysterical I was, all I got was being asked why I’d left them waiting so long.”  
Yeonjun asks, voice soft and tender, “The seamstress allowed that?” His eyes are heavy with a mixture of emotions. You see sadness and anger there, but also something a bit more. 
“Nut-hatch?” you say. “Of course.” They’d known what he was doing in there, of course. Even a human could have heard it. As long as you served your purpose, the folk could not care less. 
He looks taken aback at that, recognition turning his brows up. “Nut-hatch? You worked for Nut-hatch?” he asks. 
Nodding, you hum. You had no doubt he’d know her name. Her work was well-renowned in his father’s court and beyond. “I did.” 
His eyes rake over you for a long few beats before he turns your face up. “Their names?” he asks. 
“Huh?” 
“The goblin and the Lady. What are their names?” 
You try to tug at the threads of that old memory. “I don’t remember,” you say. Much of it is fresh, but you hadn’t committed their names to memory. Inconsequential in the grand scheme of it. “It’s okay. It’s passed now.” 
He doesn’t look very convinced, mind wheeling behind his eyes. You don’t want to stay on this memory for too long. Pushing it back into the dusty corner where it stays, you continue explaining. “I accepted that as my life for a long time, but... At some point, I just wanted more. I imagined all the ways I could find a new life as a human here. There are so many other things I’d preferred, but the only one I could manage was that. Even that, I was wrong about. I’m not really made for that, you know?” You lighten your tone in hopes that it’ll make your chest feel lighter as well.  
He listens intently and then leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling you into his chest and keeping you notched under his chin, he says, his voice smooth to your ears, “I’m so happy you’re here now, pretty.” 
Letting out the weight in your lungs in a long, meaningful sigh, you melt into his touch. It’s difficult not to when his body is so warm against yours. You revel in it for some time, just letting him smooth over your hair and rub your back. You try your best not to let any old, sad emotions pour out through your eyes; this is a happy moment. You’ve made it. Perhaps things had been harder than you imagined they’d be, but you knew it’d be a long journey when you escaped that sewing cottage anyway. 
Peppering a few last kisses to the top of your head, he releases you to pick up the book he had also grabbed from that chest. On the front it reads: Pride & Prejudice.  
“A book?” you say, looking over the brown leather and gold printing. It’s an unfamiliar name to you, but you never read much anyway.  
He nods and pries it open. The spine crackles with age. “It’s also from the human world.” Thumbing through the pages, he adds, “It’s a story. I read it often, it’s quite a nice one. I want to give it to you so that you can read it too; it’s a beautiful love story.” 
You lean in to take a look at the words, too perfect to be handwritten. “Where do you get all this stuff?” you say. It reminds you of he’d brought you to that market for human goods. He seems to be interested in things that are human. Perhaps that includes you. Either that or he continues to show you these kinds of things for your sake. 
“I lived in their world for some years,” he says, flipping through the pages. “It’s quite different. Though... I found myself not wanting to leave. When the time came, I brought these back with me to remind me of that time.” 
Lived? Not just visited, but Yeonjun had lived in the human realm? Your heart flurries with a lifetime of wondering what your true home was like. How ironic is it that he knew more of humans than you? That you’re the one asking him questions about your kind? “How long?” you ask first. “And why were you living there?” 
“Just for something my father wanted me to do,” he answers, “Somewhere around a decade, I believe.” 
He’d spent ten years there. Multiple things click into place—no wonder he’s so able to understand your human emotions. No wonder it feels as though you’ve been seen to a different degree by him than you’d ever known before. He’d spent years with your kind. “What is it like?” you say, not sure where to begin with your questions. 
He smiles fondly. “You wouldn’t even be able to believe me, pretty. You’ll just have to see it.” 
See it. “You’d take me there?” you say.  
“Of course,” Yeonjun says, frowning. He takes one of your hands into his, pressing a kiss to it. “You deserve to see it.” He presses another kiss to your skin, now at your wrist. The hair on your skin raises at the contact. His eyes find yours as he begins a slow ascent of kisses up your arm. Each is warm and sends your spine blazing. Once he reaches your shoulder, he slows down, leaving a long moment between kisses. He continues this pace—one that both makes you wish he’d slow down and that he’d hurry and quell your want—right up the juncture of your neck and up the column, too. His controlled breaths puff out like fire on your skin where his mouth lingers. You let your head back to help his path up. He places one final kiss at your jawline before his lips land on yours, drunken and in no rush at all.  
You can’t help the visceral urge to run your hands over his soft skin, to check if the warmth there was real or if you’d manifested it in your longing. Yeonjun breaks this lethargic kiss just to laugh, but he’s quick to recapture your lips. He meets your hand and brings it under his silken shirt, guiding you up the soft planes of his abdomen. 
Pushing you back, he whispers into your mouth, “I missed you so much, pretty.” 
You rememorize the gentle muscles of his stomach beneath your palm. “It was only so many days,” you tease, “you’re just horny.” 
He lets go of your hand to begin slipping down your dress from the shoulders. “Yeah?” he hums, gobbling up each inch of skin that he reveals. “I suppose I am. It’s a gift to be able to love you in this way.” Once the fabric is clear of your hips and he’s tugging it down your legs, his face turns sly. He studies your wettened core. “I think you missed me too, though, love.” 
You drag your bottom lip into your teeth. You had. Your chest thumps rhythmically in your chest, syncing like symphony with the throb between your thighs. 
Blood sings in your veins when he places his palm right on the boundary between your lower belly and your cunt. Your stomach soars, too, so excited by his touch so near where your body craves it. He runs it up, feeling the curves of your body, up to your breast. You expect him to stop and pay attention to your chest, but he presses his hand down right over your heart and feels its beating against his palm. His eyes flutter to a shut, and he leaves his hand there for a few moments, relishing in it.  
“What other purer form of love can I show you?” he says, tapping on your hip. “On your hands and knees, baby.” 
You flip, your limbs a bit clumsy in anticipation. Once you’ve found your way there, he dances his fingertips on the small of your spine. 
“Did you think of my touches while we were apart?” 
“Mhm,” you hum. Especially on the nights when the estate seemed the emptiest. Some nights, your fingers were just not enough to save you, and you’d contemplate making a big escape to find him.  
“Well, I shouldn’t make you wait too much longer then, huh?” he coos, running that hand down to ghost touches over your slit. Though minimal, you jolt. You’d been so ravenous for this. He’d worked his shirt off so that when he leans forward to meld his chest to your back, it’s his skin that touches yours, not fabric. His hand stays ghosting touches that leave you softly gasping. 
He teasingly pinches your clit, laughing in your hair at the sharp hiss it draws from you. “So reactive,” Yeonjun muses. His fingers find their way to your hole. He dips the middle two in. “Just like the first time we made love like this. Your lovely face is burned into my mind, pretty. You have such hungry eyes.” As he pushes his fingers in, he uses his free hand to tilt your face against the cushion so that he can better see your eyes. 
You sigh, shuddering and breathy, as he begins to curl his fingers. It only takes him a few curls to rediscover that spot that has sparks flying behind your eyes. 
“There?” he asks, chin on your shoulder. “That feel good, darling?” 
Your muscles tremble at their own accord, rendering your huffs trembled as well. “Yes,” you answer. Each meaningful curl hits its mark, knees unsteady pillars that dig into the cushions. “So—so good. Please don’t stop.”�� 
He maintains a sickening pace—your muscles twitch around his giving fingers, just enough so that your entire body buzzes and your stomach twists, but not enough to send you shaking yet. You collapse down from your elbows, chest in the cushions. He brushes back the hair that obscures your face with the movement, adamant to see your face.  
He eggs you on by curling deeper; faster. Your answering groan is shaky and tense—you can’t get enough of the knot he curates in your belly, but at the same time, it’s daunting. He sits back, but his fingers don’t falter. His free hand explores, feeling your body up for all the time he couldn’t.  
Stomach taut and brimming on your peak, you suck in a breath. Your orgasm sits so close, running a line of electricity from between your legs up to your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin.  
Your eyes fly open, mouth ready to scold, as Yeonjun pulls his fingers from you. Your chest bubbles up with frustration, your orgasm drifting off to somewhere else. “Why?” you ask, cheeks burning. It slips and slips away from you, hole twitching around nothing as if seeking out just enough stimulus to bring it crashing back. “I was so close.” 
His hand soothes the loss ever so slightly by circling your cunt, but he does not make the mistake of offering you any touch where you most need it. It only prolongs the float down, keeping you suspended. You abhor it.  
“Please,” you whine. 
He doesn’t entertain your whines. He only continues to deliver just enough to torment you until he’s sure that you’re not so wound up that you’ll cum the moment he touches you, and then he slides his fingers back in and begins building up a more tense knot with pointed curls. Your insides delight in the return of attention, falling almost instantly back into a brutal climb. Yeonjun doesn’t bother with languid, teasing strokes now. He aims for your ruining. 
You writhe against the cushions. Your heart is a fluttering bird in your chest, trilling at the prospect of your release. It’s so close—so close that you might be able to just touch it. It tastes like honey on your tongue, painting your words sweet. “Love you,” you tell him. “Love you so much.” 
Yeonjun rewards your sweetness with his free hand on your throbbing clit, sending your hands gripping at the cushions. You wiggle your hips helplessly in search of just the right amount of friction that it’ll finally give you want you’ve been wanting. “Yes,” you mewl. “Yes, so close—” 
“Wait, baby,” he commands from behind you. “It’ll feel so much better. I promise. Hold it back.” 
He reins in his touches once again, not stopping like last time. It’s not enough to put a stop to the orgasm rippling right under your skin, right at the edge of ripping through you. You can’t hold it back; it’s right there. 
“No,” he says, once again ripping his touch from you. It doesn’t stop anything—you go rigid just before it crashes over you, and then you’re shaking without his hands even on you. You cum with a vengeance—body reclaiming twofold what he had denied you.  
“Holy shit.” Yeonjun groans watching you come unraveled without his help. “So riled up that you’re cumming by yourself, pretty,” he says, running a hand around to feel your belly muscles twitching and the way they roll along with the twitches of your hips. He eggs on your orgasm with gentle touches at your clit, sending you jolting, until you’re a panting mess and he can tell that you’ve had enough. 
You attempt to push yourself off your chest, but he gently guides you back down with a palm against your back. “Stay there, pretty. You can handle a little more, right? You did so well, I know you can. Let me make love to you, darling.” 
The cushions are awfully warm against your skin and you’re still dealing with the waves of pleasure that drift up from your cunt, but you nod your head for him. “’Kay,” you say. 
The rustling behind you tells of how he’s slipping out of the rest of his attire. You lay boneless as he does, focusing on the waves running down your thighs. It’s ecstasy in its purest form. It floats through your veins, addling any consciousness and breaking you down into what you are at your core. 
The familiar prod at your entrance jolts you back to life. As he presses in, he presses a hand to your flushed cheek. It’s a welcome temperature difference—you feel set ablaze in some sort of languid flame, one that takes its time to consume you. He laughs softly. “You’re burning up,” he says as he bottoms out, as if the feeling of him filling you up isn’t rendering you jittery in anticipation. “Ready for me, pretty?” he teases, taking your hips into his hands. “I need you to make those pretty sounds for me. I want to know that they’re just as sweet as I remember them.” He punctuates his sentence with deep rolls of his hips, aiming where he knows will have you singing. 
You’re helpless to the chorus of ‘Oh's and ‘Yes’s that he draws from you, the smacking of his hips and your sweet moans much too loud for you. You dread the thought of his servants hearing you and push your face into the cushions, muffling the array of sounds that bubble over. It’s all you can do—you could hardly contain your sounds. 
Your scalp strains as he tugs your head back, tugging your face from the cushion. “None of that, love. I waited too long for that. Don’t hide your pretty voice.”  
You shake your head. “Too loud,” you pant. “They’re gonna hear.” 
“I don’t care who hears you. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel, or I’m going to stop. Do you want me to stop?” His fingers cling to your soft hips, betraying how much this is affecting him. You know that he hardly wants to stop. 
You’re turned to mush, though. In this moment, being heard feels nowhere near as awful as Yeonjun ceasing those dizzying thrusts. You shake your head, scalp aching against the movement. “No,” you say, breathless.  
“That’s what I thought,” Yeonjun taunts, letting your cheek drop back into the fabric. “Let them hear our love. Let them hear how real it is, darling. Louder.”  
You tentatively let your sounds out into the thick air, but he decides that it’s not enough for him. Taking his hand off your hip to brace himself on the seat’s plush armrest, he doubles down his thrusts, feverish and desperate to guide you both to a beautifully explosive end. Your mouth drops open, unfiltered words and sounds spilling out from your chest as you grab at the cushions for help. With the hand that he doesn’t use to deliver those wild thrusts, he encases your hand in his own, threading his fingers between yours.  
For a few more incandescent moments, Yeonjun’s room only consists of your unabashed cries, his alternating grunts and whines, the rhythmic and hollow smacks of his hips to your skin, and the musk of your passion. Frantic bodies dance against each other, skin against skin in the purest way. Your thighs tremble pathetically, his cock brushing against your sweet spot until you squeeze your eyes shut and ride out the quivering of your cunt around him. You squeeze his hand as you shake. 
“Yes,” his pretty voice whines, “Just like that.”  
Picking up his pace, he chases to join you in your orgasm. He pants behind you, desperately fucking into you until his hips stutter and he stills, falling into your shoulder to deliver needy rolls and shooting warm spurts of his release into you.  
You two stay like this for some unhurried moments. You focus on his heartbeat; feeling it thudding against your back reminds you that he is real, and he is love. You hold his hand in yours a little tighter. 
“I doubt that this will go exactly as you believe it will,” Beomgyu says, watching you do your hair up. Your eyes meet his in the vanity’s mirror.  
Arms burning as your hold them over your head, your words come out clipped with the ache. “It worked yesterday, didn’t it?” you say. You push a filigree comb into your hair to secure it up. “I got back hours before he did.” 
“I’m not saying that Taehyun is right,” he says, “but I think that it would do us both a favor if you practice a bit more precaution.” 
“What, are you afraid of Taehyun?” you ask, raising your brows at him in the reflection.  
Your taunt hits its mark, Beomgyu shifting in your bed and scowling. “Of Taehyun, never,” he parries, “of the fact that he could ask me to do anything and I’d do it, yes.” He shakes out his lightly matted tresses, a habit you’ve noticed over the passing weeks. “I played a little too closely to the fire with him once, and it landed me like this: no longer the owner of my being. I’d sooner chew off my own fingers than become his obedient dog, but I believe you also know that it’s best to soar low with this, no? Are we not together in this?” 
You press your lips into a thin line. In a way, you’d come to an alliance of sorts with Beomgyu. Despite his being a kelpie, the two of you are not so different now. Both confined to these walls, listening to Taehyun when he commands it. You don’t want any of your actions to snap back on Beomgyu, though. With you attending Court today, it’s almost definite that Taehyun will see you. You turn to face him. “Why don’t you join us, then?” you offer. “I’ll tell him myself that I commanded you to come with me. I’m sure he’ll be less upset if I have you there with me.” 
He gives it a thought, his eyes looking as tired and sunken as they always do. “I’m not one for Court,” he says. 
“But I’ll be there,” you plead, unable to help the twitching of smirk on your lips. “If we do it together, it can’t be so bad.” 
He frowns, but you can see that you’ve won. “I grieve for how the forest left me to my own,” Beomgyu grumbles. 
You surge up from your seat, eyes bright. “You’ll go?” you say, giddy to return to the thrill of faerie revelry and also to see the strange kelpie in the center of it. 
Grimacing, he answers, “I will join you.” 
You take his hands into yours and press a cheeky kiss to his forehead. “You’re not so scary as you try to paint yourself,” you tell him, watching as he catches bait. You laugh as he glowers. 
“Don’t push it.” He climbs off your bed. “I’m scarier than you should imagine, girl. I do this for my own reasons.” 
You pull a patronizing frown and nod. “Of course, I know.” 
You don’t have to wait for him to get ready to any capacity; he tells you that he has no intentions of making any impressions, and you’ve seen faeries in far more drastic states of disarray. Many show up for their reveling in just their skin. 
Beomgyu drones on about how he detests the audaciousness of the gentry folk while you make for the hall. The forest around you is as quiet as you remember it being when you’d first met him. It reminds you that, no matter how used you become to him, he is a creature to be feared. The little folk are right to hide away. For you, though, his might is a relief: should Taehyun be right, you’ll be safe. He moves at your beck and call. Though, the thought of forcing the kelpie to carry out your will is an uneasy one that you do not strive to fulfill. 
Once the buzzing of Court comes into earshot, wonderful faerie music along with it, you breathe it in. “First time in... how long since you’ve shown your face here?” 
“Perhaps four-hundred-something years,” he answers, looking over the scene with as much distaste in his face as his voice. “We solitary folk don’t make ourselves known here unless to bow to a crown. I do not bow to any crown.” 
Itching to find your prince, you gesture toward it. He should be fine—Court is supposed to be an insouciant place. “Don’t they host anybody who decides to come? Faerie hospitality, and all that? You’ll be fine.” 
“It’s all hospitality until you step foot from those trees,” he says. “And even hospitality is sometimes betrayed. You know how capricious we can be, I’m sure.”  
You approach the warm lights, but his words remain with you. It beckons you to remember that their minds are fickle and fundamentally different from yours. However you think they may act, they might act in the complete opposite way. You should at least let that guide how you conduct your actions a little bit. 
As you breach the pillars of trees and are finally surrounded once again by their pinched faces and gangly limbs, you search for both Taehyun and Yeonjun. You see neither, and so you make your way to the tables to seek snacks. You scour them for something sweet to chew over as you wait for him to appear. He’d said he’d be coming around this time, right? You surely hadn’t mistaken the time he’d told you? 
Beomgyu speaks from beside you, observing a hag that loiters nearby. “Is he not here?” he asks. 
Shrugging, you say, “He’ll be here soon.”  
You watch the hag inching closer, bent over with age; though, you assume that’s she’s been old for the entirety of her life. Her pointed ears droop from her thin tresses of silver, cuffed with gold.  
Turning from her, you gesture over the cavorting crowds, more frantically chasing their merriments than ever before. The solstice arrives tomorrow; they welcome its presence with their excitement. “This is all for the solstice?” 
He offers you an affirmative nod. “Just some excuse to entertain themselves like this,” he explains, “the solstice will arrive whether they encourage its coming or not. I believe that they just enjoy this debauchery too much.” His hollow eyes rake over the throngs. “Anyway, many of them are just here because it’s the only time that they’ll see Court. Otherwise, only the gentry gather here.” 
“What makes you any different than them?” you ask. “What makes you so averse to offering your allegiance to the High Courts? Would it not be nice to have their protection, and to keep them off your back?” You seek Yeonjun once more in the crowds, but still, he doesn’t appear. “You know, so they don’t call you in for things like eating too much?” 
“I do not surrender my sovereignty to any. Come they to my doorstep and demand that I do, I could not care. I’m content with the way I make my life.”  
His refusal to do just that must be why Taehyun’s father had come to claim his life. You’re sure that it’s also why the coming of the General’s son to steal his autonomy must’ve made him so angry. You don’t blame him.  
Why would The Queen demand fealty from the solitary folk? You’d thought that, like the High King, she’d leave them to their forests. If they’re all as adamant as Beomgyu, it seems like a lost cause. 
“Well,” you say, “I’m glad that—” 
A gnarled hand, fingers knobbed against your skin and skin about as soft as tree bark, tugs your arm. You spin to find who owns it.  
The hag’s eyes remind you of Beomgyu’s, piercing and dull with the weight of a long life. Though, hers are much more unsightly than his mud-brown ones, saggy eyelids drooping over a pair of eyes with ink-black where the whites of her eyes should be. She pulls you toward her by your skirts.  
You tug yourself back, pinching your brows. “Who are you?” 
She points her clawed, grey hand out at you, bangles of gold and chunky beads jingling as she does. “You, girl,” the hag says, urgent. Her voice is harsh and it crackles as she speaks. She reaches inside of her furry robes and produces a wood trinket from it. In her palm that she shoves at you lays a bit of wood carved into the shape of a wolf, painted in black. Its shaggy black fur reminds you of the kind Taehyun would sometimes wear over his shoulder.  
“I don’t need that,” you say, rejecting her hand. Nothing in faerie comes for free—the hag just sees a human girl that she can offer free things to in hopes that you’ll know no better and take. Then, you’d be in her debt, and she’d demand something from you. You do know better, though. 
“Oh,” she says, shaking her head as she draws out the word. “You do, girl. Take it, take it. You need it, I know it. Take it, I won’t hold it to you, girl, just have it.” Razor teeth appear behind her curled lips. “It is dormant with me. But, in your hands... Take it.” She shakes her jousted hand out at you each time she demands that you take it. “It offers you protection. It would do no good in my possession. It beckons me to give it to you, its pleas are so loud—loud, loud, loud! Take it off my hand, won’t you?” 
Her urging unsettles you, but so do her words. You assume that it’s inlaid with some sort of protective enchantment. Why would you need protection? Although, she could also just be fooling you. She could be holding a perfectly plain hunk of carved wood in her palm for all you know. You shoot a look at Beomgyu. If she were any trouble, he’d tell you. 
He looks about as lost as you do, shrugging. 
“Oh, sakes!” the hag grumbles, clutching her robes to her body. She takes Beomgyu’s hands and places the thing there. “There. I have no reasons to be here fooling humans. Useless debts, what could you give me? Nothing I need.” She points a sturdy, twiggy finger at you. “Keep it on you, girl, else it won’t do its work.” 
With those final ill-boding words, the hag hobbles off, her curved back disappearing between the gaps in the crowd. 
“Here,” Beomgyu says, regarding the trinket with his observation. “That hag really wanted this to be yours, so I think it ought to be in your hands.” He tries pushing it off to you. 
Laughing, you don’t reach out to take it, darting his hand with your whole body. You hang your hands in the air. “I’m not taking that thing,” you say. “She handed it to you, so I really think it ought to be in your hands.” 
He deadpans. “I’ve just been collecting myself a heap of debts, haven’t I?” He closes it into his fist for his lack of pockets. “What’s this one to add?” 
“Does it... feel like it has anything bad on it?” you ask, remembering how he’d identified your geas. “Like a curse, or a bad enchantment, or something?” 
Shaking his head, he says, “No. I feel it does have a protective purpose, but the magic there is... odd. Hard for me to decipher. Probably that hag’s.”  
You purse your lips, nodding. Regardless, whatever protection that thing might have offered you, you’ll be fine without it. 
Shaking off the odd interaction, you resume perusing the snack platters in your wait. You skip over glazed pinecones. Those would be terrible on your human stomach and teeth. You can only imagine how they’d jab at your gums. You opt for a helping of braised fiddlehead ferns. Chewing on the furled thing, you entertain yourself with the revelers. Littler folk dart in and out of legs. Long-limbed gentryfolk with flowers in their hair spin with interlocked hands at the center of the clamor. Sharp-eyed faeries with even sharper mouths speak in clusters, no doubt scheming. In all its oddness, you’d missed it.  
 A silk-smooth voice steals your attention. “A kelpie?” Yeonjun says, regarding Beomgyu beside you. “Now, how did you manage to befriend a kelpie? Even better, how did you drag it here?” 
Your chest lights up. “Long story,” you say, brushing his curiosity off. “What took you so long?”  
He’s dressed in his Courtly best—cuffs made of ruffle and an array of rings decorating his fingers. They catch light as he brings his hand up to run a hand along the expanse of your collarbone. He hesitates to answer for a split second. “I ran into Kai on my way,” he explains. “He’s performing here today and for tomorrow's solstice.” 
Accepting his answer, you go to tell Beomgyu that you’re going off, but he’s not even there as you turn. He must’ve wandered off as Yeonjun had arrived. 
“Want to join them?” he asks, tilting his head toward the dancing bodies. Soft black strands drift over his eyes.  
Shaking your head, you offer him some of the sweets you’d been eyeing, knowing that he’s got a knack for sweets. “Not today. I think I want to remember all of tonight, and, well...” Memories of the way you’d danced uncontrollably until it’d fade to black lick at your mind. You want to revel in your return to normalcy fully, not with a buzzing mind. You can’t deny the allure of that tingling in your bones as you hear the faerie music, though. It curls a wild finger at you, beckoning. 
An uncomfortable look passes through his eyes, gone as fast as it had come. “All right, darling,” he hums, accepting the sweets. “Does the Lord know you’re here?” 
Lips tugging into a faint frown, you say, “Not yet, I think.” The quick expression doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Unlike the ice the Taehyun offers you, Yeonjun wears his feelings all over himself. It’s just one way that they are fundamentally different. “Is something wrong?” 
Yeonjun looks taken aback at your asking. “I’m doing just fine,” he says. “Why do you ask?” 
He does not say nothing wrong. You know it is because he cannot lie. You look him over. What had happened? And, why is he averse to telling you the truth? “Just thought you looked a bit upset.” You shrug. “Did you want to dance?” 
His nose crinkles with a laugh. “No, pretty. I’d be in your presence doing nothing and still be content.” He takes your hands into his, the metal on his fingers biting cold against your skin. “How about we go listen to Kai play?” 
He leads you to where the musicians work at concocting their works, claiming a chalice of some drink from a table on the way. Kai, of course, stands away from the rest, back to a tree while his fingers dance on the strings. You look around for Taehyun from here, but still, you don’t see his face. 
Yeonjun holds the chalice’s neck between his middle two fingers, sipping from it. “It’s nice to know that even as this season ends, I won’t be forced to go back there.” 
His pretty lips wrap over the edge of the chalice as he drinks from it. “Won’t your father know something is up when you return?” 
Nodding slowly, he grimaces. “I suppose that time has finally come.” 
You squeeze his hand in yours. “We both sacrificed things to be here, huh?” you say. You don’t know a lot of what Yeonjun’s life back in his home court was like, but you know that it would be hard to revolt against your own family for anybody. Even for the prince of Faerie. 
He captures your eyes, his soft brown ones making crescents with his gentle smile. “We did,” he muses. 
“Remember our first night in Court?” you say. You’d been so uneasy, searching for a place to fit in. Then, from the crowds of overwhelming faces, he’d appeared, all charm and welcoming smiles. How couldn’t you have let your heart fall? 
Another flash of disconcertment flashes, his smile faltering. He hides it behind another sip of his drink. Swallowing, he nods, laughing off-kilter. “I do. I think watching you dance that time was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” 
Odd, but you don’t push the issue. If he says that he’s fine, it must just be something to little effect. “What made you come up to me that night?” you say, remembering how confused you’d been when such a pretty gentry boy had taken interest in you. You’d agonized over why he’d done so for long, and sometimes you still, but you’ve made some peace with it by now.  
His lips are tight. “I... It’s hard to explain.” 
You accept that answer at face-value and let your head fall into his shoulder while you watch Kai dutifully work at his songmaking. Among those making the music for Court, his contributions stand out as the most enthralling. Faerie music is too elusive for you to decipher why, but perhaps it’s just his lazed passion. “I understand,” you say. His shoulder is tight and less cushy than you expect it to be. Looking up to him, you frown to see how he’s looking down at you, eyes stormy. He looks like he’s sick to his stomach. You go to ask if he’s going to be okay, but he speaks before you can. 
“Pretty, I... I have to tell you something.” He pulls you off of him to look into your eyes. He’s always been so steadfast and sure, but now his gaze wavers. “I’m so sorry.” 
Your stomach drops. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. “What?” you say, a tingle in your spine telling you that something isn’t right; that you’re not going to like what he’s going to say. “Yeonjun, you’re making me nervous. Is something wrong?” 
You know it’s awful and you’re not sure why you do it, but for a split second, you inspect the hall for possible attackers. A terrible bout of potent adrenaline makes you want to run or cry. Beomgyu is here, right? 
He swallows hard, face a ghostly pallor. “I can’t keep doing this,” he says, voice trembling. “I need to tell you the truth, it’s... it’s been eating me alive. I can’t look into your sweet face and know...” 
Acid climbs up your throat. Your heart joins it, thick in your throat and choking you. “What? Know what Yeonjun?” you ask, lips trembling. Your skin prickles, hair raising. You may throw up. He looks stricken in place, not answering you. “What?” you demand. 
“I didn’t come up to you for no reason that day.” 
Your heart, still caught in your throat, bursts. It’s a horrifying, bloody affair. “No,” you say, shaking your head. You feel so removed from your body that you can almost envision how your blood-drained face might match his. 
“I knew that you were the spies the moment I saw you. It was....” He sucks in a breath. Your world spins around you as you wait. “I was supposed to determine who the spies were. I was supposed to have them killed, but pretty, I knew I couldn’t do that the moment I saw you. I thought it was just going to be some... some random faerie that I’d...” 
If your world was spinning before, it’s now flipped upside down and inverted. “No,” you repeat, a guttural plea that you know won’t change anything. It’s the only word that your mouth will make for right now, though. 
You’re hurt. You’re scared. You’re angry. You’re frozen. 
Yeonjun grabs for your hands, but you rip yourself away from him, your glaring eyes so at odds with your wobbling lips. “It doesn’t change anything,” he says. “It doesn’t change how I love you now. You know I love you. You know I love you, right? I’m so sorry. I would never hurt you. I did my best to protect you. Please, I never wanted to hurt you,” he rambles, frantically grabbing for your arms as he falls down to his knees before you. 
A few faeries around you gasp, and a blur of their commotion forms around you. The crowned prince of Faerie just went to his knees. Your eyes dart wildly around their guffawing faces, and between a space you spot a familiar face: cold eyes and a cracked mask of indifference. He looks right at you. 
What on earth is going on? How is this life right now? You snap back to Yeonjun in front of you. 
“Please, don’t look at me like that, pretty,” he pleads. “Please.” His voice cracks, eyes frantic. “Slap me. Tell me you hate me for it. But please, don’t look at me like you’re scared of me.” 
Tears scald your cheeks. 
“I know that it’s selfish of me to ask you that; I know, I know it—but please, I can’t handle it, love. I was never going to let anything happen to you, I knew it the moment I saw you. I felt it right here”—he gestures to his beating heart, the one your hand had felt and cherished so only last night—“I knew that no matter how big my ambitions were, they would never be bigger than that.” 
You can’t listen to any more. His words pour out onto your skin, but they all slip off like rain upon a beast’s winter pelt. None can penetrate the ringing in your ears. 
Yeonjun sees how retracted you’ve become. “Pretty, please,” he says, slower and more dire now. “Say something." 
You don’t know what to do. Your feet are rooted fast to the ground, but you know that you have to leave, or else you’ll start creating excuses for him. You know yourself too well to let that happen. 
Picking up your skirts, you manage only a few words to part him with. “Though your kind can’t lie,” you say, “you have been the biggest liar I have ever known. You said you loved me.” 
“I do,” he says, shaking his head, eyes twinkling. “I do.” 
Maybe love is a different thing to a faerie. 
You take off. He calls for you, but it’s muffled by the restlessness of the folk around you and the still-playing music. You dart between openings and bounce off bodies, lights and angry faces a blur in your frenzy. Most folk don’t spare you even a glance; nothing could pull them from their merriment. But others gawk at you like you put on a performance, greedy eyes drinking in any amount of fanfare. Their eyes itch under your skin. Crossing the expanse of the hall has never felt so arduous.  
You’ve become their spectacle. 
Breaking into the cold night air, you don’t run home or collapse to your knees in a sob. You hold your dress hard in your hands, the one he’d gifted you among so many others, its fabric bunching in your fists, and stand there as if frozen staring into the tree line ahead. You don’t move and you don’t think; both would remind you that this is real and that you are a fool. You just allow the bitter air to swaddle your skin. 
You don’t even know if you doubt that he loves you. You don’t even know if he actually never intended to hurt you. Had there been times where all you’d done was look at him with starry eyes, and he’d look at you deciding whether or not to have you killed? 
Why are you even here? There is nothing left for you. Whatever simple joys you thought you’d found, they’re gone. You’re so far away from home, and you’ve nobody to call home. You’d left behind your beginnings of a purpose, and now the only purpose you serve is to rot away in Taehyun’s estate because you demanded that you stay here. 
All that time you’d spent worrying, and still, you walked yourself into this. You’re a joke. 
White breaths unfurl into the night air before you, floating off to join the snowflakes and heavy fog. You just watch those fluffy flakes fall for a while. 
Snow creaks under a few footsteps behind you, someone letting you know that they’re there. “You’ve gotten awfully good at sneaking around,” Taehyun says. 
You let your head fall back, sighing slowly out through your nose. Turning to him, you spit, “I understand. You were right. I got it, okay? I don’t need you to come here and rub it in.” 
Beomgyu approaches from behind Taehyun. 
Taehyun doesn’t say anything for a bit, ice-hard eyes darting all over your face. “Take her back to the estate,” he tells Beomgyu. 
Glad to escape him, you begin your way on your own. You know that he’s only looking at your break down as pathetic. Perhaps it is, but recognizing that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Wind lapping at your wet cheeks have them stinging as you walk. 
Beomgyu awkwardly trails behind you as you follow the path that had become trodden in the time that you and Taehyun have been here, foliage and shrubbery broken down to make somewhat of a path. 
He doesn’t speak; you don’t expect him to. Instead, you break the quiet yourself, unable to stand only the sound of wind twirling between trees. “I should’ve taken that ridiculous charm thing,” you say, laughing through your tears. That hag had absolutely been able to feel what was coming with you with whatever intuition that the magic in her bones lends her. 
“But then,” Beomgyu says, “you wouldn’t know the truth.” 
That’s true. Not knowing the truth doesn’t make it untrue, but at least it spares your fragile heart. “I don’t know if I’d mind that,” you tell him. “I think I’d prefer it.” 
Ignorance is bliss, as the saying goes. 
You don’t remember falling asleep. You remember climbing into your bed, dreading that you’ll be in your head all night, but to some mercy, you’d found sleep not long after that. 
You’d pulled yourself from bed, no matter how it had grown a gravitational pull and insisted that it’d hold you warm while you weep. If you hadn’t, you might not have gotten up at all. As a girl, you’d force yourself into the day’s routine when you had your worst days. It’s the only way that you live through it. You’d also made an effort to walk past your wardrobe. It carries so much of him: the lovely things he’d gifted you, his letters, and that book he’d lent you. It’s not that you don’t want any of these things; to wither away in your bed, to go through his things and wonder how someone who’d showered you so had meant to be your killer, to drag your feet... It’s that you can’t. 
You poke your needle through the fabric. On the cut of white fabric stretched inside the embroidery hoop, you’ve embroidered a dozen woven wheel stitch flowers of different colors and types. Your bottom aches against the hardwood flooring and your lower spine strains, but you don’t pay any mind to their complaining. You just continue to embroider the little flowers. Some are poppy, some rose, and some you’d made up just to have more to stitch. 
A knock resounds through the war room from the doorway. You look to see Taehyun there. He’s dressed in his Court attire. 
“You should get dressed,” he says. “It’s almost midnight. If you want to make it in time, you’ve got to get ready now.” 
Since when had he decided that you’re okay to go? It’s as if this elusive threat that’d he’d been so careful has up and disappeared. “You can go. It’ll take me too long to get ready.” 
Truth be told, you’d go sick seeing Yeonjun’s face, and you know without a doubt that you would. 
“It’s the solstice,” Taehyun says, stepping into the room. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. 
Despite how much you had wanted to see it, your heart is too apathetic for it to be worth anything now. Returning to the same faces that had seen your demonstration and no doubt now talk of it... You’d rather finish your fifth rose. “I know.” 
He hesitates, studying you while gears turn in his head. “Hadn’t you thought that something would happen on the solstice?” he says. “Come on. It’s worth seeing how this unfolds.” 
“Why? We aren’t spies anymore. I don’t care what happens in their conflict. It’s well beyond my control as a human here.” 
He grimaces, but you don’t recognize the look there to be anger, more a rigidness. He rests his hand on his sword as he always does. “Then we’ll stay here.” 
You furrow your brows. “Huh?” 
“We can celebrate the solstice here,” he elaborates. “We don’t need to do it there. Plenty of folk celebrate on their own.” 
It dawns upon you that this is his stilted attempt at comforting you. It’s the only way he knows how. You push off the ground. You couldn’t ignore this sliver, however little, of tenderness. You’re not sure if you’d ever see it again if you did. You’ll take anything to distract your mind, as well. You can’t escape the image of Yeonjun’s eyes as he’d pleaded with you from the ground. “I’m not sure Beomgyu will join us, though. He doesn’t believe in the need to celebrate the solstices.” 
“He will if I command it,” he says.  
“What, you’re going to command the poor kelpie to sit and watch a bonfire with us?” you say, imagining how he’d brood. 
The north is wickedly cold at all times, but it’s especially so after night falls. You shuffle closer to the bonfire that Taehyun had built. It’s multitudes smaller than the bonfire you’d sat around with Yeonjun, but it’s warm enough for just the two of you. You quickly shove down those tainted memories before they sting. A lump of emotion forms in your throat before you can, though. You clear it. “Is there anything special that you’re supposed to do?” 
Feeding one last log into the flame, he watches it catch. “We started this really early,” he says. “The fire is supposed to keep you warm and represent the sun’s warmth until sunrise...” He trails off, sliding the cuffs of his shirt that he’d slid up to his elbows to tend to the fire down and sucking in an awkward breath. He looks between the fire and you as though he’d not fully thought out his offer when he’d made it. 
You face your palms to the orange flame, letting the roiling waves of heat warm them. “It’s nice like this.” 
The flame sizzles and pops, spewing sparks and eating up the wood, for a few long moments. You’re not in a talky mood, and Taehyun doesn’t seem to know where to begin on conversation with you that isn't functional. No snow falls around you, and any wind is cut by the estate. This—a place to lose yourself to your mind—is both the thing you need and what you most should not have. 
Taehyun stands watching the fire twirling, his arms over his chest.  
“Is your shoulder healing fine?” you ask, once the air starts feeling a bit heavy with the weight of the prolonged quiet. “Are my stitches holding up fine? No infection, or anything?” 
His gaze flicks up to you. “You stitched it up pretty well,” he answers. “I saw the flowers you were making. You’ve got a good hand.” 
Frowning, you say, “You didn’t say it’s not infected...” 
“It’s not infected,” he says. 
That could be a lie or the truth, you know. But... this sort of deception, you’re more comfortable with. Your human mind can pick up on these subtleties, can catch the careful intonation of somebody trying to hide something behind a lie. “Could I see it?” you ask him. 
He hesitates, expression flat as his eyes convey the extent of his consideration. “You can.” He grabs at his tunic, the fabric the only thing his frost blood even needs to wear out in the cold, and pulls it over his head. 
You swallow hard and fight the flush to your cheeks at the sight of his scar-flecked flesh, his muscled abdomen disappearing as he turns around to show you his back. When you’d last seen his bare skin, you’d been so high on your fear and adrenaline that you’d barely flinched.  
Blinking, you focus on the arrow puncture at his shoulder blade. It’s done some healing, but tinged by an angry red and visibly swollen around the stitches. You curse. 
Of course, he’d rather let his shoulder rot away than admit that he needs any more of your help than he’d been forced to allow. That would require admitting that he’s not just an impenetrable wall of ice. “That is definitely infected,” you say. “Were you just going to let that kill you? Infections like that are beyond help once they get in your bloodstream.” 
“I’ve had infected wounds before,” he says, preparing to put his shirt back on. “This one is nothing. It’ll take a bit longer, but... It’ll heal up fine.” 
You grab his arm. “Just let me clean it a bit,” you insist. “It’s not that big of a deal. You’re not scared that it’s gonna hurt, are you?” 
Sighing, Taehyun says, “I thought you wanted to enjoy the solstice.” 
The hopeful girl you’d been had wanted that, but now it’s just a reminder of everything you don’t want to remember. You wave your hair in the air dismissively. “We did. Come on.” 
You find a bucket to fill with water and cloth along with some stash of ancient spirits in the kitchens, their containers lined with a layer of dust so thick that you know they’re left over from Taehyun’s father. He watches you gather it all. 
You beckon him to turn and show you his shoulder again. He does, bracing his arms on a counter and letting his head hang. You spill out some of that strong liquor into the wound. You’re not really sure if it’ll work as a disinfectant, but as a girl you’d seen an older woman pour it over her wound once, and it’s all you know. 
Gently dabbing at his shoulder now with the water-soaked rag, swollen except for where the stitches sinch it, you say, “You should’ve been going gentle on this thing.” 
Taehyun doesn’t make any fuss as you prod at the wound. “I had more important things to concern myself with,” he says plainly. You press the wet rag to the wound and hold it there, and he begins to try and redirect the conversation to anything other than about himself. “What did the prince say to you at Court?” 
Your stomach drops. “It was nothing.” 
“I know that’s not the truth,” he says, picking up his head to try and look over his shoulder at you. “Tell me the truth.” 
You take the long, torn strips of cloth and begin wrapping it around the expanse of his broad shoulders in a sloppy and amateurish wrap. As long as it shields the wound, it’ll work. “That’s rich coming from you,” you say. “There’s plenty that you lie to me about. You even lied about this.” You tap his shoulder. 
Turning now that you’re done, Taehyun eyes you. You don’t know if he’d been able to hear anything over the sounds of Court or if he’d heard it all with his better hearing ears. You can’t tell which it is.  
“I’ll hear it from some Court gossiper anyway. I think you’d prefer to tell me it yourself.” 
The thought of that scene being a topic of Court gossip makes you ill, but you know that it’s true. The folk love the show, especially one that includes a prince of Faerie on his knees in front of a human. Red-hot embarrassment takes a leisurely stroll up your spine. Your biggest fear has taken flesh in the cruelest way possible.  
Well, if he’s going to end up knowing anyway... You’d prefer it’s from your mouth. You don’t know what sort of conflated half-truths the folk might come up with, since they have no more idea what happened than what they saw. “He was supposed to kill us,” you say, chest too tight to explain it in any depth. “Or, at least, find out who we are, so that we could be killed.” 
Taehyun doesn’t look shocked. He nods. “So, they anticipated our arrival, then. The odds had been stacked against us from the beginning.” 
You nod. Would you have been able to escape? If things had never become entangled between you and Yeonjun, would you and Taehyun lived beyond the first day? Taehyun is strong and you know that he’s no doubt survived plenty in his life, but you’d have been caught completely unaware. “Yeah.” 
“I told you that he’d show you his colors eventually.” 
You want to fight him on that, but you can��t. You have nothing to say. He’d been right. 
What’s left for you now that he has?  
END PART 4
Tumblr media
a/n: RAHHH! like i said, this part gave me a bit of grief because part 3 was left so open ended—i had so many options and paths i could follow, but ultimately, i chose this one! how do we feel?
taglist: @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @sanshiningstarhwa , @hyucktapes ,
91 notes · View notes
beenbaanbuun · 1 day
Text
ateez as muppets
i have work in the morning but muppets are more important than sleep
fun fact about me! the muppets was the only film i watched for a period of about 2 months. i would watch it at least once a day, sometimes twice, and i had the soundtrack downloaded so i could even get my muppets fix on the move… anyway🧍🏻‍♀️
kim hongjoong - beaker
Tumblr media
hear me out!!!!! despite being a little orange tube who makes zero sense when he talks in ‘meeps’, he is smart (not really)! he’s a scientist!! he is dr bunsen’s right hand man!!!!
he also just carries the aura of hongjoong about him with that dainty frame and red hair. hongjoong and beaker are twins, i’m sorry
park seonghwa - kermit the frog
Tumblr media
i can tell i’m losing you here and honestly, i’m losing myself but let me explain!! kermit is caring. of all his personality traits that one sticks out to me the most
this muppet would give it everything he has for the other muppets and that’s a trait i see a lot in seonghwa. he loves his team, and kermit loves the muppets
jeong yunho - fozzie bear
Tumblr media
what can i say other than the guy is just silly? he lives his life on where the next pun is coming from and he’s willing to put in the work to find reasons to make a joke
he also just kind of looks like yunho? look at this fuzzy little fuck and tell me you don’t see yunho buried behind those beady eyes. i need it for halloween, yunho PLEASE
kang yeosang - miss piggy
Tumblr media
it was between miss piggy and rizzo rat but i thought about it for a few more seconds and realised that miss piggy is literally just yeosang… like come on
the beauty, the sass, the elegance, the love she shares for her fellow muppets despite not always being able to show it. tell me that’s not yeosang, i fucking dare you
choi san - rowlf the dog
Tumblr media
i love rowlf. he’s so chill and yet he’s a man of many talents! sure, he’s a dog first and foremost but did you also know he’s an actor? a pianist?? a veterinarian??? just like san, this dog can do it all
i also just kind of want to hug him in the same way i want to hug san. i just know in my heart of hearts that it’s such a warm, gentle hug
song mingi - animal
Tumblr media
i was struggling for mingi until i remembered that oh yeah! animal exists and just like mingi that muppet is just an unstoppable ball of energy who thinks he’s so cool
mingi gives me drummer energy which is why i have written him as one multiple times. animal is also a drummer, and a pretty sick one at that!
jung wooyoung - rizzo rat
Tumblr media
the main reason i picked rizzo for wooyoung is bc he’s a chatterbox. it’s not necessarily the most helpful or intelligent of things but it is being said whether you like it or not
rizzo is mischievous and fun and he makes me giggle and if that isn’t wooyoung?? he also has a lot of love to give! watch a muppets christmas carol and you’ll see what i mean 🙂‍↕️
choi jongho - gonzo
Tumblr media
gonzo just feels so jongho to me. from his exasperation with the other muppets to his daring nature (bro fires himself out of cannons…) he’s just so jongho!!!!
gonzo has that divorced dad of 3 drip that i know jongho would look stellar in. you’re telling me jongho wouldn’t rock a floral shirt?? some suspenders??? he’s a dilf! of course he would…
72 notes · View notes
midnight-bay-if · 3 days
Note
Alright, everyone else gets angst posting, I’ll give it a shot.
How would the RO’s react to some sort of spell being cast on the MC, making them think their father is there? Some sort of ploy to get the MC closer to them, probably for harm.
Loving the story so far!!! :)
(Ouch, this hurts... My fellow pain enjoyers, rejoice! Also, apologies that this took so long to get to.)
S: They see it. The clarity in your eyes fog over, the once bright light filling with murky water. It's a sight S has witnessed often. You have been hit with a powerful curse to dominate your mind and fill your head with painful visions.
"Dad..."
You whisper the familial title like a solemn prayer, reaching out into the empty space before you, and S's chest lurches. They do not hesitate to act. In moments, they stand in front of you, grasping your face with both hands as they stare into your eyes, filling your vision with them rather than what they can only imagine coaxes you behind them.
"It isn't real. Look at me," they order, pressing their forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry, my love, but it isn't real. Whoever has cast this curse on you means to harm you, and I will not let that happen. Keep your eyes closed, darling. Keep them closed until I can take it away."
Rain: Rain doesn't understand what is happening. One moment, both of you were enjoying a bit of banter, a playful back-and-forth with teasing insults, before it stopped. Everything stopped.
"MC?"
Nothing. Then, something. You look straight past them as you call out to the darkness. "Dad..."
"Oh, no."
In a flash of realisation, Rain steps between you and the apparition. Anybody or anything willing to conjure up an image of your greatest wound does not have good intentions, but Rain cannot fight what they do not see.
"I'm sorry for this, MC," they whisper, clasping a hand firmly over your eyes. "Your dad isn't there, MC, I promise you that. I'm so sorry that I can't make it different."
Taj: Taj senses it before they see it. Something in the air, like a crack of electricity whipping across their skin. It causes the scars to ache. Then, Taj turns to you, ready to ask if you are sensing something similar. But what they are greeted with terrifies them.
Your usual colourful eyes have dampened as if a dark smog is purposefully shutting out the light. It scares them.
"Dad..."
Taj watches as you reach for an empty space, an lifeless smile on your face.
"Oi, Koel, snap out of it." Taj snaps in front of your face, their heart beating rapidly in their chest. When you keep reaching out to nothingness, Taj grabs your hand and holds it to their chest. "There's nothing there, so stop it. Please."
When even that doesn't seem to work, Taj snaps. "Oh, fuck it." With their forehead pressed firmly against yours, they hold you in place.
"Listen to me right now. Your dad is dead. You spent your entire life fucking shit up because of it, and I fuckin' love you for that. No matter how shit things got, you never gave up. So don't you dare fall to this now. Ya hear me?"
N: N knows dark magic when they see it. They are sure to some their magic could be considered dark. In their opinion, a little mind-reading wasn't really hurtful... Well, that was what they believed until meeting you. Now, they see you reaching out into nothing and feel their burning skin turn cold.
"Dad..."
"Oh, no you don't," they mutter, standing between you and the nothing you reach for. "Sorry, my dear, but I get terribly jealous. I can't let just anyone inside your head."
N is inside you in an instant. For once, they don't wish to see. Instead, they concentrate hard on creating some kind of barrier to stop access. "Feel free to punish me later. I'll wait with anticipation."
Umbra: Umbra has spent far too long gazing into your eyes. They have every tiny variation of colour seered into their mind. The instant the colour of your eyes becomes muted, their already pallid skin grows paler.
"Dad..."
They turn towards where you reach for, and they realise you are grasping at nothing.
This isn't like them. This moment isn't like theirs. They had no body to lose; it was given. But it breaks their heart to think you might believe this is possible thanks to what they are.
With a tentative touch, Umbra reaches up to cup your cheek, hoping the cold of their touch might serve as a light raft to pull you to safety from wherever your mind lays adrift. "Feel the cold, MC. Feel what is real, and know what is not. I'm sorry, I know it is selfish, but I need you back with me."
80 notes · View notes
pearl-blue-musings · 3 days
Text
Untitled #4
Tumblr media
Tsubakino tries to keep his feelings about you to himself but it comes out more when he’s alone with Umemiya. Umemiya hasn’t been able to shut up about you since the two of you met over 5 years ago. Tsubakina can’t help but he happy seeing Ume so thrilled, but a little heartbroken as well. His facade is easily seen through.
“You’re upset about something.”
Tsubakino smiles hesitantly at his friend before coughing out, “you can tell?”
Umemiya nods as he prunes more of his garden. “You’ve been like this ever since I started dating her.” Without turning around he can sense his friends apprehension. Umemiya chuckles and stands up. He’s aware his tall friend wears his heart on his sleeve and that he’s had it for years. Umemiya feels regret that he doesn’t match his comrades feelings, but he can’t deny that strong pull he has toward you. Ume sighs and slowly turns around. “I really like her, love her, with all my heart. She’s… she’s really special.”
Tsubakino sniffles as he rubs at his eyes. He blinks quickly and smacks on a smile. “I know she is.
“And that’s why you’re gonna propose, isn’t it?”
****
You knew Tsubakino was better with make up and fashion which is why you had invited him over. After a couple of delinquents from a neighboring town tried giving you trouble, some of Bofurin had swept in to save the day; one of them being Tsubakino. The two of you quickly bonded and as the years went on became inseparable way after graduation. Within his friend group you met Umemiya and it seemed like the world around the two of you stopped momentarily. And the two of you weren’t the only one keen to that.
Right now, you’re looking through your closet for a good outfit as Tsubakino grills you about your date. You hadn’t revealed who you had a date with but you were getting too giddy and eager. As he examines your make up and accessories, you step out in your chosen outfit. The man on the floor claps his hands as he gasps in astonishment. “You look amazing! Whoever you’re meeting is sure in for a surprise!” You smile and clap with him, doing another twirl to admire your outfit. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep this to yourself. So you blurt out:
“It’s Hajime! Uh I mean Umemiya!”
Surprise and resentment quickly flash through Tsubakino’s eyes before he shakes his head and fakes shock. He wants to cry despite understanding why you would feel this way. So that’s why he’s been asking about you. “Oh? You caught my leaders eye! That’s not an easy task. He can be pretty dense when it comes to romantic feelings. So tell me, who asked who?”
You bite your lip nervously like a giggly teenager. “H-he asked me! He had walked me home from work and had the cutest expression on his face! He was so nervous which is weird for him,” you ramble on. “But he handed me a-“
“A ticket to the aquarium?!”
“Yes!”
He wants to cry. That’s the advice Umemiya had asked him the other day. “So that’s why he asked me about cute date ideas the other day.”
You pause and move to hug him. A strange feeling overcomes him as he hugs you back. His heart is shattering but at the same time he’s elated that someone he considers his best friend is finding happiness. Even if it’s not with him but you. You sign as you release him from the hug. “Thank you.”
Tsubakino points to himself in shock, lifting her eyebrows. You smile and intertwine his fingers with yours. “I know it sounds weird to thank you, but if you had never saved me I would’ve never met him…or you. You have no idea,” you squeeze his hand tightly, “how important you are to me. So I want to ask,
“Is it okay I go on a date with him?”
How is he supposed to say no? How can he tell you no? It’s clear the both of you have become important people in his life over the last few years. But can his heart handle the two most important people in his life dating?
****
“Gah?! How could you tell?”
Tsubakino crosses his arms and shakes his head. “You only come back to the top of Furin when you’re debating major life choices. Plus, the box in your pocket is poking out.”
Umemiya wipes at his forehead with an embarrassed chuckle. “You know me so well! Can you believe I’ve been with her for two years?” Umemiya sighs as he leans against the fence railing. “Amidst all the craziness we’ve been through, she still wants me.”
Tsubakino chuckles. “Why wouldn’t she? You’re an amazing guy. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” The wind rustles past them blowing flowing black tresses behind him. Umemiya turns to face his long time friend with a melancholic expression. The gardener sighs before speaking.
“I’m sorry I don’t return your feelings.” The other man flinches and gets flustered under the truth from the words. He blinks quickly in an attempt to keep his feelings at bay. Umemiya’s heart lurches for his friend as he steps forward. He places a calm hand over his comrade’s trembling one. “Thank you for caring for and about me. Thank you for loving me. And you know I will always love you,” Umemiya squeezes Tsubakino’s tear covered hand. “You both are very important to me and I wanted to check in with you before I asked her the question.
“Do I have your permission to marry her?”
****
Tsubakino is the first person you tell about your engagement. You video called him in happy tears with Hajime by your side. As the exchange happened, you notice a silent conversation between the two most important men in your life. You end the call by telling him, “I love you Tsubaki, thank you.”
He sniffles and nods, waving to the two of you. “I love you both. But I hope you know, Ume I have dibs on being her man of honor.”
He hangs up and the silliest argument between you and your fiancé ensues.
61 notes · View notes
pressureplus · 2 days
Note
HEYA HELLO HI
first, i want to genuinely thank you guys for the account's existence and your hard work. reading through the posts is often the highlight of my bleak days, and im immensely grateful for you providing those moments of joy :]
SECOND UH ID LIKE TO ORDER A SPECIFIC KINDA HEADCANONS LIST IF NO ONE MINDS AND IT HASN'T BEEN WRITTEN ALREADY ALRIGHT YEAH
a nonbinary reader who is pretty similar to Seb's stubborn, independent and sassy persona but WOMP WOMP, they're suddenly head over heels for him. NEITHER WANTS TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE FEELINGS (aka "HE'S FUCKING MARRIED, IT'S NOT MUTUAL AND IM BUSY WITH NOT DYING, BUT I CANT GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD" & "I HAVE A WIFE AND THEY'RE JUST SOME EXPENDABLE BASTARD, GET OVER IT, SOLACE"). the distracting, unnecessary, painful pining. how do both cope and who's gonna break first? and most importantly, is either gonna throw their ego and rationality out the window to confess despite the fear of looking pathetic?
oooof i hope it's not too much and it's not breaking any rules. thank you in advance if you find it interesting enough for writing! :D
Awww, thanks so much! Although I should make it very clear the wife in question will remain vague and is NOT BASED ON ANYONE! Thanks for the request ❤️
♡Married! Sebastian Solace x NB! Similar! Reader Headcannons♡
Warnings: Sebastian is Married and Y/N is technically an Affair Partner
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟
He had found you interesting from the moment you opened your mouth and got sassy with him, mostly because most people don't have the balls to do it
Despite finding this slightly irritating, he also found it refreshing, so he didn't immediately shoot you if only for his own entertainment
A terrible mistake he'd soon find out
He developed some definitely unhealthy feelings the first time one of your comebacks had an almost flirtatious undertone
It was an accident on your part, but it got him thinking
He was a married man fawning quietly over you, how awful is that?
I mean of course he’s flashed the wedding band, and of course he's mentioned his wife when others flirt with him, but that doesn't change his feelings
If you flirted with him, would he really reject you?
Could he?
He hadn't known the touch of his wife in years, the softness of her hands, the warmth of her kisses
After everything that's happened he couldn't even remember her name. He should be able to remember his wifes name right?
Does he really even care about her? Does he love her now? Did he love her then?
It comes with an odd sense of guilt he doesn't like to look at. Especially when you do something that makes his heart flutter.
You, on the other hand, probably didn't develop any real feelings until he actually saved your ass.
You'd been running for your life and he’d snatched you up and into the vents, tossing you easily into his shop and shutting it behind you
His gaze transfixed on said vent, a hand on his gun. Something about him choosing to save your life while also putting up with your attitude was a little attractive…
Okay, insanely attractive
Sure, Sebastian’s guilt for being attracted to you is bad, but so is yours
You’re attracted to a married man who has absolutely gushed about his wife in front of you before. Even if it was only because someone tried to get a little flirty, what does that matter?
Honestly the mutual attraction makes it hard for you both to focus
Everything about that man is intoxicating, his smile, his laugh, his attitude. Can you really be judged for this?
Neither of you can focus on anything but each other whenever you’re both in a room.
It’s led to Sebastian getting surprised whenever another person buys something off him because he had no idea anyone else was in here
Its also led to you freaking out whenever one of the other expendable touches your shoulder without you having realized anyone was standing behind you
You hide it well…at least you hope you do?
The longing glances and quiet staring on both sides is unbearable though
Especially considering you’re both making those dolly eyes at each other, batting lashes and daydreaming
It’s cute but it’s also incredibly wrong of you two and you’re painfully aware of it
No amount of sharing food and acting like it’s not a date will make it less of a date
He’s already long since decided that he’s going to offer you come with him so you both can leave together
And though neither of you will have the heart to confess for quite a while, I think he’d do it on your way out. Something about you almost dying when you both escape makes him desperate to tell you how he really feels
When that ‘I think I’m in love with you’ slips out while he’s bandaging your arm that’s been cut by glass, how can you refuse?
Especially when you’re in love with him too?
He’ll toss that ring into the ocean once you reach the surface, his wife never loved him like you did anyway
59 notes · View notes
tinytinyblogs · 16 hours
Note
Can you please do Stray kids members how they would act around the female 9th member
Welcome To The Team!
Tumblr media
Skz has a new member and they trying to get close to you, too.
Hyung line, Maknae line (Coming soon)
💬I apologize for the delay in fulfilling this request—I’ve been quite overwhelmed with a lot on my plate and feeling exhausted. However, I’m here now and ready to assist. I genuinely appreciate receiving feedback and requests from all of you, and it always makes me happy to help. Wishing you all a wonderful day!
Stray kids masterlist
Tumblr media
Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨
Tumblr media
Chan
Tumblr media
Meeting Chan for the first time feels effortless and comfortable. As the leader of the group, it’s only natural for Chan to take on the role of being the bridge between you and the rest of the members. True to his gentle nature, he has an uncanny ability to dissolve any awkwardness right from the start. There's something about the way he carries himself—calm and approachable—that instantly puts you at ease. Even if you tend to feel nervous around new people, his presence reassures you. It's as if he knows exactly how you're feeling, intuitively recognizing any discomfort you might have. What stands out most is how he helps you connect with others, easing you into the group dynamic without making it feel forced. He doesn't just leave you to fend for yourself but subtly helps guide the conversation, making sure you don't feel left out. It's his attentiveness that truly makes a difference. He’s always checking in with you, making sure you're comfortable, and adjusting the interaction to suit your pace. Chan’s genuine care and effortless charm create a space where meeting new people no longer feels daunting but enjoyable and even fun.
As you grow closer to Chan, his care and affection become more evident with each passing day. What started as a gentle and considerate friendship blossoms into something even more meaningful as he lets his affectionate side shine through. He enjoys being at the heart of the group, craving connection not just with the other members but with you in particular. It’s subtle at first—small gestures like sitting closer to you or casually brushing against your arm—but soon, he becomes more open with his warmth. Out of nowhere, he’ll wrap you in a hug, a gesture that feels both comforting and familiar. His eyes often linger on you, not in an intrusive way, but in a way that makes you feel truly seen. There’s an unspoken admiration in the way he watches you, as if he’s quietly appreciating every little habit and detail about you that makes you unique. Whether you’re laughing at a joke or lost in thought, Chan’s attention is always there, taking it all in. Sometimes, he would gently caress your hair, a soft, caring gesture that immediately made you feel more at home. His tone was always soft and considerate, and he'd ask questions to make sure you were okay: “Are you feeling alright? Are you comfortable? Is there anything bothering you?”
And while he’s affectionate, his care goes deeper than just hugs and soft looks. Chan isn't afraid to speak up when something’s wrong, giving you a playful scolding or a serious talk when he feels it’s necessary. His gentle reprimands come from a place of genuine concern, always with the intention of helping you grow or stay on the right path. But no matter the situation, he’s never far when you’re in need. If you're feeling down or overwhelmed, Chan is there in an instant, offering support and encouragement, making sure you know that you don’t have to face anything alone. Through it all, his affection and care create a sense of security, making you feel valued, protected, and understood. His gentle encouragement helped you find your place within the team, and he made it clear that you belonged. With Chan by your side, you never felt out of place or like an outsider; instead, he created an environment where you could flourish and grow, surrounded by the unwavering support of someone who genuinely cared. His thoughtful presence helped smooth out any initial awkwardness, allowing you to build a strong connection with the group and become part of the family.
Minho
Tumblr media
Minho, being naturally the most reserved person in the group, approaches new situations and people with quiet caution. During your first meeting, he doesn’t say much beyond a polite, brief self-introduction. He tends to stay on the outskirts of conversations, observing everything around him with his sharp, thoughtful eyes. It's clear that he prefers to take his time, watching and absorbing the energy of new people before diving in. With you, it's no different—he doesn’t rush to interact, opting instead to silently evaluate and adjust to your presence. In those early moments, you may notice him sitting quietly or exchanging a few words when necessary, but his true nature lies in how carefully he observes everything. He’s taking note of the dynamics and your habits, making sense of the situation before he fully steps in. Minho’s approach to connecting is slow and deliberate. It’s his way of giving himself time to feel comfortable.
After some time, you’ll start to notice subtle changes. Slowly but surely, he begins to make his way into your world. At first, it’s small—he’ll join in on a group conversation where you’re involved, adding a comment or two, enough to make his presence felt but without drawing too much attention. Little by little, these moments grow more frequent. You start seeing him join in on light small talk, his words carefully chosen but meaningful. Over time, the walls he had built around himself start to lower. What began as casual contributions to group discussions evolves into more personal interactions. One day, you realize he’s seeking you out on his own, initiating conversations that aren’t just polite but thoughtful and genuine. As you grow closer to Minho, his reserved nature starts to melt away, revealing a more playful, talkative side. He begins to open up, often filling the space with his teasing and lighthearted jokes. He loves to mess with you, whether it's by cracking jokes or poking fun at you just to get a reaction.
He has a way of spotting you from across the room and coming over to talk, even if it's about something completely random—he doesn't mind, as long as he has your attention. When it comes to helping you with dance practice, Minho’s patience and focus shine through. He’s always ready to offer guidance, paying extra attention to your steps and making sure you’re on the right track. He’s supportive but never misses an opportunity to play around, and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he’ll warn you, “One more wrong step, and I’ll tickle you,” his playful glare letting you know he’s only half-serious. His combination of care and teasing makes the time spent with him both productive and fun, and it’s clear that he enjoys every moment of being around you. Even though he claims not to be a fan of physical touch, it's obvious that when it comes to you, that's far from the truth. His hands always seem to find their way around you—whether it’s a casual arm over your shoulder or a playful nudge. His actions speak louder than his words, and it’s clear that he enjoys being close to you, even if he won’t admit it.
Changbin
Tumblr media
When you first meet Changbin, he greets you with a wide, infectious grin that instantly sets the tone for your interaction. It's clear from the start that he’s the most enthusiastic about meeting you, his excitement practically buzzing through the air. With his high-energy personality, he makes you feel immediately welcome, creating a warm atmosphere where it’s impossible to feel out of place. His positivity is contagious, and you quickly realize that with Changbin, there’s no room for awkwardness or hesitation. From that very first moment, you feel like you can lean on him. He has an effortless way of breaking the ice, making you feel comfortable despite the newness of it all. His easygoing nature shines through as he pulls you into conversations, introduces you to others, and helps you find your footing in the group. It's like he’s taking you under his wing, ensuring that you don’t feel like a stranger for long. His knack for building connections isn’t just limited to himself—he goes out of his way to help you become friends with the others, acting as the bridge that brings everyone together.
Changbin’s energy and enthusiasm create a space where you feel seen, appreciated, and instantly part of the group dynamic. Even during your first meeting, he makes you feel like you belong, as if being around him is the most natural thing in the world. Changbin had a genuine warmth about him, and though he was incredibly talkative, he was also incredibly thoughtful. He knew exactly where to draw the line, never pushing you too far outside your comfort zone. While he loved engaging with you and pulling you into conversations, he also had a strong sense of awareness about when to step back. If he noticed you growing tired or if the conversation began to lose its flow, he’d gracefully shift gears or allow you the space to take a break. As your bond with Changbin deepens, your interactions become a blend of playful mischief and genuine affection. You both find yourselves constantly teasing each other, exchanging nicknames, and engaging in spirited play fights.
Changbin often jokes about your height, laughingly declaring, “We’re definitely the shorty duo—don’t even try to deny it!” His light-hearted teasing and the friendly banter become a hallmark of your relationship, creating a dynamic where fun and laughter are always just around the corner. But beneath all the playful antics, Changbin's true nature shines through. When you’re feeling down or going through a tough time, he’s quick to shift his focus from fun to support. His primary goal becomes making you smile and bringing joy back into your day, no matter what it takes. Whether it’s through a silly joke, a heartfelt gesture, or just being there to listen, Changbin demonstrates that his care goes beyond just playful interactions. It’s this balance—between the fun, carefree side and the thoughtful, caring side—that makes your friendship with Changbin so special. No matter how much teasing or play-fighting there is, you know that when it really matters, he’s someone you can count on to brighten your day and be there for you, offering both laughter and support.
Hyunjin
Tumblr media
When you first meet Hyunjin, he may come across as somewhat shy and reserved. He tends to keep his conversations brief and polite, not wanting to intrude or make a fuss. This initial reticence is part of his nature, and while he may not be very talkative at the beginning, he remains courteous and respectful. Hyunjin’s sensitivity can sometimes lead to misunderstandings, especially when you're still getting to know each other. This might result in a few minor disagreements or awkward moments as you both navigate the nuances of your interactions. These initial conflicts are often a result of miscommunications rather than any real friction. However, as you both spend more time together and become more familiar with each other, these early misunderstandings will gradually dissipate. Hyunjin’s true, warmer side will begin to emerge, revealing his more open and engaging personality. As you both get to know each other better, the initial shyness gives way to a deeper connection, allowing for a more comfortable and genuine friendship to develop.
Once you've had the chance to warm up and move past the initial awkwardness or silly disagreements with Hyunjin, he’s quick to make amends by engaging with you on a more personal level. He’ll start asking about your hobbies, interests, and what you enjoy doing in your free time. This genuine curiosity helps bridge the gap between you, and as you discover common interests and shared passions, you’ll find that your connection deepens. As you both open up to each other, Hyunjin becomes more expressive and involved. He’s eager to share his creative thoughts and ideas with you, enjoying the process of exploring and learning together. Whether it’s working on a project, diving into a new hobby, or just discussing your favorite topics, he takes pleasure in collaborating and spending time with you. His enthusiasm for sharing his new discoveries means that you become his go-to person for exciting news or fresh ideas.
Hyunjin’s approach to friendship is rooted in a desire to connect and grow together. He loves finding new ways to explore and learn, and he values having someone to share these experiences with. When he comes across something new or inspiring, you’re always the first person he wants to tell. This constant sharing and collaborative spirit make your relationship with him not only more meaningful but also filled with creativity and mutual support. "Don’t be silly—I told you to wear mine,” he says with a playful smile, tossing his hat in your direction. Sharing is something he truly enjoys, and he’s always happy to offer advice or lend a helping hand whenever you need it. His willingness to share extends beyond just material things; he also values open communication and turns to you whenever he needs someone to talk to. Whether he's seeking guidance, sharing a personal thought, or just needing a listening ear, he feels comfortable confiding in you, appreciating the support and understanding you provide.
109 notes · View notes
lemonlyman-dotcom · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
In lieu of Season Five just around the corner, I thought it would be fun to do a Work is Published Wednesday for my TK Strand’s 30th Birthday fic TK Strand’s Sweet 16 (times 2) (minus 2) 🎂
Lucy’s setting a comically large glass filled with an orange liquid in front of Mateo when TK comes into the kitchen. She elbows Mateo in the side hard, and he plasters a big cheesy smile on his face.
TK, oblivious to the weird vibe on the other side of the room, leans against the counter next to Carlos, pulling his attention away from the spectacle. He happily accepts the remaining half of Carlos’s taco when he hands it to him. TK takes a bite and closes his eyes as he chews. “Oh, I always forget how good that is.”
After a moment, he puts his hand on Carlos's forearm. “How are you doing?” he asks.
“How am I doing? It’s your birthday. I’m doing fine.”
“Sweetheart,” TK says, voice somehow both soft and stern. “This is the first big family blowout since your dad. It would be understandable if you were feeling sensitive. I just wanted to check in with you.”
He thinks about that for a moment. He wants to give TK’s considerate concern the time it deserves. It’s true — this is the first big family party since they lost his father. He’d still been too broken-hearted to do any kind of big celebration for his own birthday. He knew TK and his mom had wanted to do something, but they’d respected his request for a low key day. They’d resumed Sunday lunches about a month after Gabriel’s passing, but those were more subdued affairs. They had a quiet Thanksgiving last month, the first major holiday without him. Christmas is sure to be harder.
He looks inward and finds the sadness is there, of course, but it’s much quieter than it was even a couple months ago. He finds himself feeling an overwhelming sense of joy tonight. His entire family has come together to celebrate his new husband. That’s something he never thought he would have.
“Dad would have loved this,” he says. “He loved you. I think I’ll always feel a little melancholy at family gatherings. But tonight I’m just happy celebrating you. My sweet husband.”
A beautiful smile crosses TK’s face and his eyes go soft. Whatever he’s about to say is cut off by Mateo exclaiming across the kitchen.
“Oh! Cupcakes! Maybe a cupcake will make me happy.”
He takes a huge bite before anyone can warn him, and immediately makes a sour face and spits it out.
“Oh my god, poison!”
“Oh, dear,” Tía Lucy says as she refills his sangria. “Wash it out.”
“It burns a little!”
Read on ao3!
Thank you for the tags @paperstorm @corsage @orchidscript
Tagging @ironheartwriter @captain-gillian @heartstringsduet @emsprovisions @carlos-in-glasses @whatsintheboxmh @nisbanisba @chicgeekgirl89 @literateowl @emsprovisions @bonheur-cafe @alrightbuckaroo @honeybee-taskforce @thisbuildinghasfeelings @welcometololaland @eclectic-sassycoweyes @tellmegoodbye @ladytessa74 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @basilsunrise @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @sapphic--kiwi @herefortarlos @firstprince-history-huh @fitzherbertssmolder @fifthrideroftheapocalypse @filet-o-feelings @fallout-mars @your-catfish-friend @kiwichaeng @tinyluminaryzombie @guardian-angle22 @rmd-writes @iboatedhere @reyesstrand @never-blooms @decafdino @certifiedflower and OPEN TAG 🏷️
43 notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 2 days
Text
Change My Mind [3]
Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.
Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but what you can't do is accept the fact that they're your soulmates.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory
Words: 8.8k
ao3 is down so I'll update it first here. Chapter got delayed since this wasn't originally part of the roster. its currently 1am so there will be mistakes I missed but that's for future Winter's problem.
edit: please comment if you want to be added to the tag list :DD
[1] [2] [3]
__________
For a guy with his heart on his sleeves and his emotions displayed so loudly on his face like neon signs with gigantic arrows, Taehyung is an enigma.
It didn’t help that he had experience in acting, if anything it made it harder to understand him.
One moment he's supportive of your quest for a perfect husband then another, he's raging with a jealousy even the power of the thousand burning suns couldn't replicate. Even when Guwon has long disappeared, Taehyung didn't stop from hanging off of your arm when the three of you had entered your home. 
In the short time they had stayed over, he made sure he was somehow close to you or having you within his sight while Jimin returned to being the sweet boy he had always presented himself as but the glint of something dark in his eyes never disappeared.
But it didn't make any sense. All of their behaviors, even Jimin, is confusing.
Taehyung had introduced a date to the group before, and had hooked up with a few people from the after-parties if the others’ words were anything to go by. Jimin is the same, although he took every chance to flirt with you at any time and everywhere, you always thought it was him being his playful self. But after last night?
You don't know.
And you hate not knowing.
To find out that Jin still liked you was shocking already, then comes this new realization—along with the impacts of Jungkook’s confession—to knock you off of your feet. You thought he had moved on like he had said years before, but last night's conversation had told you otherwise.
“That's the tenth time I've heard you sigh just this hour alone and we're only drinking coffee, what’s wrong?”
Your head shot up to meet the concerned gaze of the oldest make-up artist. Jihae is one of the original staff back from 2013, the woman who had picked you up when you tripped in front of the BigHit building crying with your bag spilled out, having been given a low grade in one of your subjects. 
They were lacking in staff back then, urgently searching for another body to help with the debut look and when she saw your cosmetic bag, she tugged you inside and told you to agree with whatever they were going to ask. 
Stunned, you followed the woman without question.
A month later, you dropped out of the nursing course your mother had insisted you take and pursued cosmetology.
Many times have you looked back at the memory and grimaced. It could've gone wrong, she might've been leading you into a trafficking ring but nonetheless, you're glad you had accepted it.
All because Jihae had seen you with mascara-stained tears and somehow deemed you skilled enough for the job. Up until today, you still wonder what she had seen in an emotional teenager who had comically tripped face-first in the company’s front yard, mascara running down her face and thought: ‘She’d be a good addition’ . 
Whatever it is, you're thankful. 
“Hey, you still with us?”
Snapping out of your trance, you wearily smiled at her. “Yes I am, unnie. Just frustrated about something...”
At this, multiple heads turned to you, their stares a varying mix of curiosity and teasing. Suddenly reminded of the group lunch Jihae had proposed that day, a bonding exercise for the entire make-up artists roster, for better teamwork, she had said and internally facepalmed. You had forgotten that it wasn't just your friends sitting on the table with you and you had just aired your problem out in the open for them to hear.
Fuck Kim Taehyung and his confusing attitude. You should beat his ass next time you see him for being the catalyst to the dilemma haunting your mind.
Leaning closer to you, Nabi—another friend of yours—crossed her arms and flashed a shit-eating grin.
“Is it boy problems?”
Instantly, the table explodes into chatters, all of their questions drowning each other.
“Which one of them?”
“Did someone from Bangtan confess to you, unnie?”
“Is it Hoseok? Please say it is! I have a bet with someone from the styling department.”
“Was it Taehyung? I always thought he had a crush on you for a whi—”
“It's not any of them, please we're just friends.” You interjected before they dig further and find truth in their questions. “It's a different guy I've had two dates with.”
Never had you sounded more unsure of yourself until now and you had wished nobody had noticed. But one look around the table says differently. Your friends’ eyes glinted, all of them telling you that this discussion was far from over and you find yourself already dreading opening the groupchat once you're home. But unlike them, someone wasn't satisfied with your answer and crossed her arms from the other end of the table.
“Why so dismissive, unnie? We're all friends here, no need to be so defensive.”
Immediately, the ones closest to her snapped their heads at her with a scandalized look. Alexa was a new recruit, A half-Korean and half-Chinese who lived in the States for a better half of her life, had just joined the week before the first leg when one of the crew went into labor and had recommended her cousin as her last minute replacement until she could return.
In the short time she had been in the company, there had been whispers and none of them were positive. Rumors of an unhealthy obsession hidden beneath the skillfully applied make-up that granted her a younger and cuter appearance, hushed stories of their encounters where she'd reveal her soulmate mark—inked initials, and written on her wrist is a K.S.J, something she boasted around with a smug look, as if to imply something you refuse to entertain.
It was absurd. 
Seokjin was untethered, if he got a soulmate mark out in the open, he would've screamed it on top of the world. Delighted and in cloud nine at the thought of having someone destined for him. Not to mention, it meant that he didn't need to go through any of the shit you've gone through, going through dates after dates looking for someone better to settle down with only to be met with constant disappointment at the end of the day.
(You'd also be the first to know. He would've ran to you and asked if you manifested a mark too, but for your sanity, you pushed the thought at the back of your head as soon as it came.)
To say, to imply that Seokjin’s soulmate is the kid on the side of the table, it almost made you grimace.
“Hey Alexa, I know you're just new and a foreigner but that doesn't mean we'd let you disrespect your seniors!” Minhyuk, someone who had quickly wormed into your friend group last year, had jumped to your defense.
Alexa scoffed. “I'm just saying, no need to be so secretive, unnie. Everyone in this table knows how close Bangtan is to you. Everyone is wondering if you've at least dated one of them.”
“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”
“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I'm just saying what you're all thinking,” She looks back at you. “I've seen how they look at you, surely you've at least had a fling with someone.”
Your brows shot up, incredulous and shocked by her audacity but before you could bite back, Minhyuk stood abruptly, face darkened with pure unadulterated anger.
“Oh this—” Nabi and you were quick to tug him back down to sit. 
At the commotion, everyone in the cafeteria shifted their attention to your table, inquisitive and curious of what might've set off the resident social butterfly, someone who everyone knows the name of and has been at the end of his constant kindness.
Minhyuk is a passionate soul, especially towards his job and friends. Having been kicked out for being himself, he turned to the very skill that had his father screaming expletives at him. Recommended by Jihae, who had been visiting a nearby friend at the time and was passing by his street, had found him crying in the rain, outside the gate of his family house. She had taken him home and the rest was history.
There's never been a time when you've all hung out, five emptied bottles of Sojus later, where he wouldn't be crying, thankful for the chance your eldest had given him before turning to you, sobbing loudly and hugging you and the rest of the group in a tight grip. Heart full of gratefulness for his new found family.
So there was no shock that he had been the first one to jump at the first sign of aggression towards your group.
“Everyone is looking, hyuk. Let's calm down.” Nabi whispered to him, eyes cautious and Minhyuk grunted.
“She's lucky we're in public, I would've torn her down for that comment.”
At the end of the table, Alexa scoffed, incredulous. “Are you seriously mad that I'm saying my opinion? Is it a crime to express their own opinion these days?”
“Not when it's as rude as yours.”
Jihae sighs. “Calm down the both of you. Remember that you're working right now.”
You didn't doubt that everyone in the company has speculated about your relationship with Bangtan. It's hard not to when the maknaes hang onto your words and comfortably play around with you, especially not when you have dinner at their dorm every other week so you didn't blame the newbie for being curious.
That's what you would've felt if she hadn't been going around planting ideas into people's heads that she might be Jin’s soulmate like the delusional slug she is.
You had half a mind to loosen your grip on Minhyuk and let him wipe the floor with her unnecessarily expensive work clothes.
Shrugging both your and Nabi’s arms from his, Minhyuk stands up again only to walk away from the table. Instantly, the rest of your group follows him as he marches through the gathered crowd in the cafeteria and in front of the closed elevator.
You trailed behind him, waiting for his eventual frustrated explosion as he always does after an encounter with Alexa since she was hired. Once you were all far enough, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public, he threw his head back and let out a loud, exasperated groan.
“That girl I fucking swear!” He growled as combed his long hair back. “Why did we even let her continue working after the tour?! We could've just found a better alternative, she's getting into my fucking nerves!”
Nabi sighed. “It's not like we have a final say in this, hyuk. Whether you like it or not, we'll be stuck with her until Hyuna comes back.”
“God,” He groaned. “You should've let me hit her once! I'm so tired of hearing her bullshit! Surely, you've heard the lie she's spreading around right?!”
“Like Nabi has said, we can't do anything unless it starts to hurt the reputation of the idol. She's smart for not saying it outright and somehow containing it within the styling departments.” Jihae responds with a defeated shake of her head.
The answer didn't satisfy Minhyuk, who then turned to you with a pout and wide puppy eyes before promptly stomping over and taking both your hands in his.
“Surely you can pull some strings, noona? Tattle off to Namjoon hyung or Seokjin hyung, surely one of them would do something, right?”
You almost considered his suggestion. Alexa had been grating your gears ever since she arrived to replace Hyuna. You had excused her lack of cooperation with the team for being a newbie and clumsy mistakes of haphazardly leaving her items everywhere for the stress of the new environment she was suddenly put in. But for her to go around implying Seokjin is her soulmate is another can of worms you didn't even want to open.
The mere thought of her existing on the same floor as Seokjin invokes an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.
But unfortunately, even if you had tattled to Namjoon about her, nothing would happen since it's not too drastic of an event to fire someone over for. It's also just not a good idea overall. The tour is set next Wednesday and while Alexa doesn't cooperate with most of the team, she unfortunately got the skill to back her up. Her skills nearly compensate for her rude personality.
Almost.
“They won't fire someone over a small argument, Hyuk. Just suck it in until Hyuna returns.”
“Which will be in December after Japan,” He mulls it over before shaking his head. “Yeah no, I don't think I can tolerate her nasty ass that long.”
The elevator opens—Jihae had called it the moment they've arrived, bless her—and everyone piles in. It was a quick ride, the stylists being on the floor below the cafeteria. In a flash the metal doors parts opened and you all walked out. But before you could follow your friends back into your department, your phone vibrated from your pocket.
Slowing down, you pulled the device out and looked at who's texting you.
           [13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor
           [13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏
           [13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁
There's also a text from Guwon not too long ago. Something you missed while you were lost in your thoughts earlier.
           [12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon!
           [13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during.
           [13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁
You briefly grimaced at how robotic your reply sounded before returning to Hoseok who had sent another text.
           [13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢
           [13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona
           [13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba
           [13:04] Hobi: YAY
           [13:04] You: how can I help you?
           [13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁
           [13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance
           [13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it
           [13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺
           [13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room?
           [13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver
           [13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise
           [13:07] Hobi: but yes😁
           [13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁
“Y/N?” Jihae asks and you look back up to see your group waiting for you.
“Who is it?” Nabi adds.
“Better be news of Alexa getting fired. If not, I don't want to hear it.” Minhyuk says as he crosses his arms. You shook your head and he threw his hands up in frustration.
“Got asked to help with something but I'll be back in a moment.”
With a brief goodbye, you turned back to the elevator and directed yourself to the floor where the dance practice rooms are at. 
The walking distance from the elevator is not too far from the dance room but seeing five familiar teenage boys speaking in hushed whispers and hitting each other's arms in front of the vending machine just a feet away from the door easily distracted you.
If they had been crowding around the machine, you would've thought they were fighting over the last snack but instead they were all facing the same direction as your destination.
Sneaking up to the five giants, you're slowly introduced to the dilemma they were hitting and pushing each other for.
“You're the oldest, you should go and knock!”
“Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I should always be the first! Why are you even ordering me around?! Go ask Huening Kai instead!”
“Why me? I can't talk in Korean, I-I’m foreigner .”
“Oh don't you pull that shit on us. How are you only a foreigner when it matters?!”
“What are we talking about?”
Three shrill screams pierced through the air as the five of them jumped back, awkwardly long bodies falling against and clutching onto each other for dear life, all of them huddling onto the next body for protection. But once they recognize you, Yeonjun immediately regains composure and breaks off from the cluster to stomp over to you with his bottom lip jut out as he dramatically latches onto your arm.
“Noonaa, why would you scare us like that?!”
When you first met Yeonjun, he was standing in front of the cafeteria bar in front of the exhausted cashier and the long irritated line of workers, peering up onto the menu before looking down to count his money. He looked like a little kid lost in the sea of busy adults, painfully alone and helpless as the hungry customers behind him began to complain loudly.
He had been holding up the line as he recounted his change once more, hoping he had miscounted and that he could afford what he was eyeing. Seeing his hopeful expression crumble into defeat was enough to make you approach him and buy him lunch. 
Yoongi had teased you when he found you being trailed by another kid, saying you were collecting every doe eyed kid in the company and becoming their reliable older sister. Especially when his soulmates began to follow his footsteps.
“What were you guys doing? Fighting against who gets the last chip?”
Beomgyu then ran to wrap his arms around yours, the sweetest and most innocent smile plastered on his face as the two boys began to walk you forward, the destination? The dance studio.
“You know that we love you right, noona?”
Why these kids are genuinely intimidated by your sweet Hoba is beyond you. The man screams and flinches at the smallest of bugs daring to exist two feet away from him. Still, you entertained them with a raise of an eyebrow and Yeonjun continued.
“Our favorite make-up noona, the greatest sister figure we have ever had, my savior and my salvation, our dearest credit—”
“Okay, what do you guys want?”
You all stopped in front of the dance room door. IDOL was blasting on the other side of the wall, the floor vibrating with the beat. Although muffled, you could pick up the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor and heavy footsteps accompanying the song.
“Could you pretty please knock on the door?” Beomgyu asks, pleading and also hopeful and the rest of his brothers chimed from behind you with their own versions of the request which ended up sounding like a bunch of warbled words.
“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”
“But they're busy and J-Hope sunbae is scary.” Taehyun quietly adds behind you.
“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”
“Okay, let's not lie to ourselves now,” Huening Kai shoots back before motioning to the door. “Just… knock and we'll handle it from there. We promise!”
“Cross our hearts.” Taehyun says, drawing  a cross over his chest. The other four follow.
Dance teacher Hoseok to you is a hoax. You've never been subjected to his intense scrutiny and harsh perfectionist side, always managing to slip past or only being able to meet him outside of the workplace where he'd be far relaxed and cheerful. 
Sure there's been plenty of photographic and recorded evidence posted in the group chat but you still find it hard to believe he's more frightening than the bugs that scare him off the room.
“He's not that scary, guys.”
Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”
“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.
“What—”
The door swings open before you could ask what he meant and Jungkook steps out of the room. 
In a span of a second, the memories of his drunken confession flashed before your eyes. From the moment he had entered your home with bags of snacks to the way his voice had sounded, hushed and shaky, when he asked you for a kiss.
Seeing him again outside the concert where Namjoon and Yoongi had made sure there were no contacts between the two of you, evoked a weird sense of longing within you. Having absolutely no contact with Jungkook for two days had you missing and recollecting your past memories with him. In the short amount of time you've been away, you wondered about many things.
From something as headache-inducing variations of hows and whys questioning his attraction to you to something more simple and short like ‘how is he feeling right now?’.
It was a dumb question with an obvious answer yet you wanted to know. Curiosity and anxiety clawing at your chest. 
Is your friendship still okay? 
Did rejecting someone this time finally ruin your entire dynamic with the group? 
Should you have chosen someone as your sister had told you to do? 
They have plagued your mind and haunted you in your waking days yet the moment you finally see him, your mouth dries up and your voice dies in your throat.
But before you could even muster the courage to talk to him, he turned his attention to the boys who had retreated behind you the moment the door opened and greeted them with a short bow before walking away, completely ignoring you. Pain blooms in your chest like a thorned vine wrapping and strangling your heart tighter and tighter as you watch his back disappear around the corner.
“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”
“Is that even possible?”
“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”
“Noona, are you okay?” Soobin’s concerned voice, soft and cautious, brings you back to reality and you turn to them, a precariously built smile on your face.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
The five shared a look as you stepped into the studio, exposing you to the two figures laid on the floor, heaving and panting. The main topics of your thoughts sitting at the far corner next to the black plastic table while Hoseok stood in the middle of the room, unaffected by whatever had happened and was chugging the water from the small bottle in hand.
As if he had grown a sixth sense for you, he suddenly spun around, a wide grin brightening his stern face.
“Noona!”
At this, the two men on the floor perks up. Namjoon merely waves before promptly dropping back down, Jimin and Taehyung only smiled at you, looking spent from whatever routine Hoseok had them do before turning to the two tallest. Seokjin had pushed himself up to stand and approach the black plastic table from the other end of the room where a dozen take outs were.
As Hoseok approached you, his gaze then found the cluster of five heads peeking through the sides of the entrance and laughed.
“You’ve got five ducklings following you, noona, didn't know you started collecting more after our maknaes.” He jokes before turning to the teens and waving them over. The group then spread to occupy the space in the doorway and bowed. “What can I do for you guys?”
They suddenly disappear behind the wall but you hear them hitting each other and their whisper-shouts, it took a long while before Soobin was pushed out of the shadow and forced to talk to their sunbae. The painfully shy teen shuffles over, shoulders folded forward and taking the smallest of steps forward before stuttering a bow.
A wide smile brightens Hoseok's face, endeared by the boy’s overly formal actions.
“H-Hi sunbae.”
“Hello, Soobinie.”
“We-we we're just wondering if we-we could watch you guys? Practicing dancing I mean—Not that you sunbaes need it cause you're professionals!—I mean of course you still need to practice to be better at dancing and—wait no—”
“ Yah Soobin, stop embarrassing us like this!” Yeonjun scolds and immediately, the boy almost broke his neck with how face he looked over his shoulder.
“Then go do it yourself!”
“We don't mind, as long as you guys stay in a corner like good kids then we'll all be good!” Hoseok cuts in before an argument ensues.
There's a tap on your shoulder and you look over to see Seokjin standing behind you, a gentle smile playing on his plush lips, both hands hidden behind him.
There's an awkwardness that hung in the air as you both gazed into each other's eyes before he cleared his throat and began.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it.
Turning to face him fully, he then takes one of your hands and forces your fingers to hold the neatly folded top of a paper takeout bag.
“I've packed Yoongi’s portion here as well as an extra for you.”
“You didn't need to, I already ate.”
“I even had them order some soft tofu soup, you were craving it last week, right?”
It was sweet being loved so selflessly by him. It tasted like the sweetest nectar from the garden of Eden with a foul aftertaste once your mind reminded you of your sins against the man and the thorned tendrils of guilt coiled tighter around your chest, its sourness easily overlapping the sweetness of his love.
After Jungkook pretending you didn't exist earlier, having Jin, someone who you didn't even know still admired you all these years while you had messed around with many faces and came to work with some of their marks on your skin, expressing his care had you almost bursting at the seams. 
It enrages you thinking about Alexa going around spreading her bullshit spiel about being Jin’s soulmate. As if she deserved a morsel of his attention.
Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.
“Thank you Jinnie, but I already ate.” You then remembered your promise to return to your friends soon. “And Jihae is expecting me back immediately.”
“Coffee and toast is not lunch.” He deadpans as he takes your hand and forces it to close around the pack. “Just eat it with Yoongi, he'd be happy to be able to eat with someone and I’ll handle Jihae noona.”
“How the hell did you know what I had for lunch?”
Shock crossed over his face and he brought a hand over his mouth. “I was right? I just had a hunch on what you ate.”
“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”
“Maybe it’s a soulmate mark manifesting.” He shrugs but you doubt he meant it in a joking way.
“You’re way past the age, give it up hyung.” 
You both turned to the door at Jungkook’s voice. Like earlier, he had strode in without acknowledging your presence, something Seokjin had noticed immediately. His eyes slid to the five boys tentatively pushing each other to the empty corner of the studio before looking back at their youngest.
“How could you insult me like this? I fed you with my hands, you should be addressing me formally with a full 90° bow!” 
“I should’ve bitten your hands at least once back then.” Jungkook jokingly muses.
Before you could witness their banter explode, there’s a tug on your shirt and you spun around to face Hoseok who had nudged his head to the door. Jin had already marched towards the maknae before you could even thank him so you left.
Once you were both outside the studio, Hoseok closed the door behind and hugged you.
“Wh-what is this?”
“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do. It was in the way he tried soothing you with back rubs and this tight hug.
“I’m fine, Hoba. I didn’t expect us to be buddy buddy again after what happened.”
He sighed.
“He still shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Seokjin hyung will talk to him about it later.”
Stepping back, you shook your head. “No need, I understand why he’s acting like that.”
His eyes regarded your face for a moment before pulling you back in for a hug and nuzzling his head on top of yours. “You don’t have to defend him noona, he’s acting like a child. It's our duty as his hyungs to fix that up.”
“Please don’t. It feels like you’re taking sides, he might think it's unfair.”
He laughs. “Are you kidding? ‘Cause from what I’m seeing, he’s being a petulant child. He should handle the rejection with more grace when it's his fault he’s in this predicament. You know Seokjin hyung warned him, right?”
“He told me when he and Tae took him home.”
“Then you should know better than defend him.” You opened your mouth to refute but he pressed a finger to your lips. “Don't start. He's not the same sixteen years old we had to raise back then, he needs correcting.”
With two hands on your shoulders, he then spun you around and began to push you towards the elevator, leaving no room for an argument. 
Once he had led you back to the locomotive, he briefly stepped in to push the correct button for the production floor and stepped back and waved as the elevator wall slowly closed to a shut.
“Now go feed hyung and yourself before you go back to work. Thank you again noona and see you later."
“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”
A beat.
Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”
Punching the proper strings of numbers on the door code, you open the door to the genius lab to find Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, one ear off of his headphones as he goes back to a specific second again and again.
Situating yourself on the couch next to the door, you place the paper bag on the coffee table and slowly unload all its contents, hoping its smell is enough to deter him from his work just for a second.
Taking one of the containers, you open it to see bulgogi generously sprinkled on top of rice. The savory smell of the dish wafting out almost immediately, and Yoongi visibly perks up from his table; if perking up meant him temporarily stopping his incessant clicking and head tilting a little to the side.
“Is it all bulgogi?”
Placing down the container, you opened the other one to reveal the same dish except this time with fried rice.
“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”
“Whatever you like less.” He grumbled as he returned to his work.
“That's not a proper answer.”
“Just take whatever you want, I like either.” He muttered.
Staring at the food on the table, you found yourself at a crossroads. The fried rice looks more appetizing than the plain white rice on the other container but you've had enough sodium for the week, having challenged Taehyung, Jimin and Jin to who can eat more ramyeon in one sitting the day before the concert.
But today just doesn't feel like a plain rice type of day. 
But fried rice isn't healthy.
“Just choose please, I don't know what I want either.” You groaned out, frustrated.
With a grunt, the man took off his headphones and turned to face you before maneuvering himself closer to the table and picking up the container with the plain rice.
“Stop thinking so much about what is healthy or not,” He remarked as he took a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. “I could hear your thoughts even with my headphones on and my back turned.”
“Then why tell me to choose if you already knew?”
Yoongi only shrugged as he took his first bite, prompting you to take yours. He seems to mull over something as he chews, staring at the food on the table for a while before placing the container down and leaving the room without a word.
You had learned not to question his confusing actions throughout the years, even then you couldn't help but be bewildered.
When he returned, he was carrying two drinks in one hand. Sprite and Kombucha. Settling back on his chair, he placed down the bottle of Kombucha in front of him before opening the can of sprite and placing it in front of you.
“I don't have any straws on me so you'll have to just chug it.”
People don't usually notice it but you think Jin and Yoongi are more similar in how they show their affections, just in different volumes. Seokjin’s care is always voiced out, always asking whether you want something or not and offering to do or make it for you while Yoongi just somehow always knows what you want and does it wordlessly. Both of them are always willing to provide.
If you had asked them for something as ludicrous as fried cotton candy with melted cheese on top, Jin would complain and express his disgust openly, ranting about the strenuous process while holding the handle of the pan and a spatula in the other while Yoongi would cook it without questioning your sanity.
Either way, it never fails to make your chest warm.
“Thank you, Yoongs.”
He suddenly takes a huge bite, bringing the container close to his face before humming out his response, easily flustered as ever.
You both eat your food in silence. With years of friendship under your belt, you have learned to enjoy the serenity Yoongi brings. It had been rough at the start, his quietness matched with his stoic expression had often led to misunderstandings where you often thought he thinks of you badly for being close to his brothers, especially after Jin’s confession.
He had confronted you once he heard it from Namjoon—who had immediately tattled onto his hyung after you had told him not to tell anyone—, saying he simply had problems expressing himself. You could remember how his hands, despite being entangled with each other, shook with his voice, could recall how he had forced himself to hold eye contact with you when he always had difficulties in holding one.
It was thoughtful and that was the first time you had felt the tingles of warmth in your chest. Teenage you had her feet swept off by a stuttering mess of a guy with eye contact issues.
Despite Jin being the first in the group to confess, Yoongi was the first to touch your heart.
“Why are you looking at me like that?’
You tilt your head. “Like what?”
A conflict of emotion crossed his eyes as he struggled to find the words but before he could, your phone vibrated from your pocket.
           [13:54] Guwon: I'm at the cafe close to your building
You almost choked on your spit, surprised by his message. His office was on the other side of the city, why would he drive so far just to get some coffee with you during work days? 
Love , a voice answers and you immediately waved it off.
There was no way he had fallen in love with you in such a short time. You have been on two dates with him yet he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend when there's been multiple times throughout those days and nights he had the chance to do so.
During nights where you'd restlessly toss around on your bed, you found yourself facing one more problem outside of your friends.
You didn't notice when it started when Guwon began to make your stomach churn and it bothers you to the nines at how you were being suspicious of him.
Guwon is a genuinely nice guy with a legit and grand background from what you learned throughout the short time you've been hanging out, his case stories of helping out women stuck in abusive relationships and bringing justice to those the law has failed once proven true when you've typed his name on Naver. The man didn't deserve the doubt twisting in your stomach nor the aversion you were slowly gaining towards him.
Your conflicting feelings surrounding your friends' confessing and odd behaviors shouldn't be affecting your relationship with the man you will marry at some point yet it ended up doing so.
There was something foul and bitter simmering in your guts these days whenever you force yourself to think about him during your time. It burns like bile and tasted like betrayal, almost like unfaithfulness ; you try not to think hard on why you feel this way but it's hard not to when Jimin and Taehyung's jealousy keeps flashing behind your eyelids with every blink.
           [13:55] You: Oh wow, which one?
           [13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe.
           [13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me?
           [13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you
           [13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁
“Who is it?”
“It's Guwon,” You say, scratching your head. “He says he's at the cafe down the road and wants to meet up.”
Yoongi placed down his food and stared at you, long and hard. Cat-like eyes narrowed and observing as he leaned back on his chair. You feel his eyes regard your body language before sighing.
“I assume you need help getting out? I'm not as… bold as the younger ones but I think I can help… somehow”
His appearance would surely help tamper down the discomfort that had bloomed with the recent revelations. Yoongi is intimidating as he is caring, having him next to you would ensure you a shorter time spent with the man, as well as prohibit him from pulling another surprise kiss on you.
But why are you so uncomfortable spending time with Guwon anyways?
You didn't have any problems before, even wanted to sleep with him the night prior so why now?
“How’d you know I need help?”
“You looked like your mother just told you to come to another date.”
Immediately, you ironed out the frown you didn't realize had marred your face. 
“I thought you would've been delighted you've finally met your match?”
“I-I am.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, the sound echoing louder in the silence of the room. “Try again. A little more sure this time.”
You sighed and relented, knowing the man wouldn't let you take a step out of the door if you lied to him again.
“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, eyes widening with surprise. “How so?”
“You know, when Jimin and Taehyung came over last night to make sure I got home safe, they were acting strange towards Guwon.” When he made no move to respond, you continued. “When Guwon suddenly kissed me, Taehyung looked… scary. Jimin too, if you can believe it.”
“I actually do.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Yoongi goes silent again, mulling over something as his gaze finally met yours for the first time that day. “For someone so perceptive, you're a bit oblivious.”
“What is it?”
“I won't elaborate, I'll let you realize things on your own.”
You groaned, facepalming because ain't no way Yoongi just added more fuel to the forest fire that is your thoughts. The man doesn’t even look aware of what his words had done, reaching over and innocently sipping on his kombucha once more.
“Back to what you were saying, why do you think it felt wrong to see Guwon?”
With his calm voice and the deafening silence of the room, you found yourself comparing Yoongi, who even has his hands folded over his crossed jean-clad legs, to a therapist and laughed.
“Didn’t know I was due for a therapy session when I dropped off your lunch.”
“Well I did, so deal with it,” He placed down his bottle. “Do you need my help or not?”
“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”
He nods and stands, but not before saying, “I hope you know this conversation is far from over.”
While his presence had given you more peace of mind, leaving the BigHit building with Yoongi—who had forgone his usual outdoor style of beanies and big prescription glasses matched with a black mask in order to appear more intimidating, claiming the beanie softens his edges, something you playfully rolled your eyes at—still felt like walking into your doom.
The moment he steps out of the building, suddenly everyone's eyes are on him. The cool stoicness surrounding him commanded attention and the people listened without complaint, not when Yoongi looked like every highschool teenager's bad boy wet dreams.
Strolling into the cafe is easier with Yoongi trailing behind you like a guard dog; or in his case, a guard panther.
There's something about having the rapper, who has never shown a hint of romantic attraction to you in all your years being their friend, accompanying you to meet the man you might marry once the discomfort born from conflicting feelings subsides. It makes your heart jittery and your stomach twisting uncomfortably, the nerves from meeting Guwon only adding fuel to the fire.
It felt improper somehow, as if you were breaking an invisible rule you're yet to uncover from the depths of your soul.
The tempting aroma of freshly baked buttery goods and roasted coffee beans greeted you the moment Yoongi had pushed the door open for the both of you. In the controlled volume of mixed chatters from different tables, a calm acoustic instrumental flies through the air and you almost forgot what you came here for. 
It didn't take long for you to find Guwon sitting on the table farthest from the entrance, secluded and away from the wide glass pane windows. When the door had opened with a chime, the man had raised his head from his phone and met your eyes. You try not to linger on how his expression stiffened when he realized you had Yoongi in tow before a smile wipes it away.
“You see him?” Yoongi’s voice grumbled from behind and you nod. Guwon stands, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor catching his attention. “That him?”
“Yeah, I don't think he's happy I brought you with me.”
He chuckled lightly. “Good.”
Guwon met you both halfway, arms opened wide to greet you with a hug and you let him. When you pull away, his hand casually falls to your waist and your skin scrawls . 
Immediately, Yoongi’s eyes drop to look at it but before any hint of emotion breaks onto his face, his cool eyes are already back on your suitor’s face.
“Which one of your kids am I given the pleasure of meeting this time?” Guwon asks before offering his free hand to Yoongi who had taken it with a carefully crafted blank expression and unrelenting stare.
Seeing him remain in eye contact with Guwon surprises you. The man, even after your years of being friends, had never held eye contact for longer than five seconds outside the time he had opened up to you about his struggle with expressing himself.
It made you curious. Why is he provoking him? Is he testing Guwon?
“I'm not one of her kids, I'm actually older than her. Min Yoongi.”
“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”
Even when both their hands had long pulled away from each other, their eyes lingered longer. Challenging on Guwon's part, and taunting on Yoongi's as he stared back, completely unfazed.
Seeing them silently engage in a dick measuring contest, something you didn’t expect Yoongi to ever partake in since he had been loud in his distaste for his own gender, irked you. The tightening grip on your waist didn't help, wanting nothing but to slap it off if it wasn't for your promise to your mother to not fuck this up.
‘If you don't tell them what you're uncomfortable with, then they'll continue on doing it. The other guys out there aren't like us who'd feel guilty if we knew, I fear that they might take advantage of you instead, noona.’ Hobi’s voice echoes in your mind.
Sorry Hoba, I'm trying to make this work. But if this behavior continues, then I'll listen to you.
“I thought you idols are often more busy than the average folk?”
Yoongi sucks air through his teeth before responding. “We were in the middle of a fitting prior. I hope you don't mind me keeping watch, can't have our staff getting distracted by heartthrobs like you.”
Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.
“She's been telling you guys about me?”
“All the good things, don't worry.” He then turns to you, eyes searching your face for a hint of extreme discomfort before continuing. “I'll go order the others some food.”
Sparing one last nod of his head at the man next to you, Yoongi then turns towards the counter to order. The moment he was out of earshot, dread drops onto your stomach like an anvil and you looked up at the Guwon whose eyes were already trained onto yours, a lazy smile stretched on his lips.
“I assume you’ll be needed back once he’s done?”
“ Yeah, I’m sorry it's just… Wrong timing.”
He waves you off. “Nonsense, it’s my fault for bringing you out of your work. They won’t fine you for this, right?”
“I went with one of my bosses, of course they won’t.”
His eyes studied your face for a moment, searching. For what? You don’t want to know. When he had found whatever it was, his face melts into a softer, more mellow expression and your heart clenches. The outpouring of awe in his eyes felt heavy and thick, it clogs up your throat and weighs your already strained form.
“I missed you.” He whispers with the sweetest of voices. “Did you miss me?”
“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”
The lie weighted like lead on your tongue and burned like acid. Compared to the genuineness practically dripping from his lips, your words fall short in your ears. With the way his softened expression crumpled into a frown, you knew he also noticed the hesitance in your voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. With the tour being so close and more sponsorship offers coming in, it got a bit stressful than usual.”
When his arms reach around your shoulders and pull you flush to his chest, you will yourself not to tense. You were both hugging in the middle of the coffee shop and you could feel the nearby patron’s stare pressing onto your body, judging and unpleasant. Embarrassment burns your cheeks and the desire to push him away grows.
Even Jimin and Taehyung doesn’t dare to get affectionate in public, none of your friends ever did anything more than a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the correct direction or a pat on the back when Jungkook had more sleep and food ingested, and and you just happen to be assigned to him that day.
You wanted nothing more but to tell him to back off but the words got stuck in your throat. 
“Just a tip, she doesn’t like PDA so maybe step away?”
Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Guwon says, his hand falling from your shoulder and down to your arm. You shivered.
A firm and familiar hand lands on your shoulder and Yoongi tugs you back to stand next to him. There’s a set in jaw as his eyes narrowed down at Guwon, the hand replacing Guwon on your arm is tense and rigid but not enough to hurt. 
You sensed that he had a lot to say once you were out of sight, all of them expressing his distaste for the man you’re set to eventually marry. Even when you were all standing there, you could already imagine the curses and nitpicked details pouring out of his lips.
“We’ll be going back now,” Yoongi says to Guwon, voice tight as if holding back his emotions as he curtly bowed. “Our leader is already demanding us to come back so we’ll have to cut this meeting short. It was nice meeting you.”
Guwon looked incredulous at the turn of events, eyes shuttering before he nodded in understanding and turned to flash a smile at you.
“Message me when you’re home, alright?”
Yoongi didn’t even linger long enough for you to respond, already walking away. By the time you turned to look at him, he was three gaits away from leaving the coffee shop. With a dip of your head, you sprint to follow closely behind the man now pushing through the door. 
You could understand the reason for his irritation, always the most protective out of the bunch and the one with the most to say about men. To see your closest female friend be made uncomfortable by her suitor, a stranger in his eyes, there was no doubt he’d be livid.
But why does he have to walk so fast?! 
You’re not physically built to match his pace, he takes one step and you have to do three. It was infuriating but you couldn’t exactly scream at him to slow down in public, catching the attention of other people would only create more problems than you both could take on
He eventually slows down to a halt in front of the double glass doors of the BigHit building and you were able to finally catch up to him. In the lobby, you both calmly approached the elevator, a complete juxtaposition of how hasty you two were not a moment before. 
But the moment the metal doors of the elevator shuts, isolating you and Yoongi from the rest, he begins.
“I don’t like him.”
It was stupid but you wanted to know what specific trait he had found irksome.
(Deep down, you knew you were finding a reason to stop, to let go of Guwon and stop this stupid charade.)
“He didn’t even notice you were uncomfortable earlier. When you told us that he’s good, I thought he’d be decent, not top grade bare minimum.”
“H-He was actually good, believe it or not.”
“So he's a pretentious prick?”
You sighed. “H-He just—”
“Hyung wouldn't approve.” Yoongi cuts in, his hardened eyes now piercing through yours, almost taunting you to bite back. “Not just him, everyone would. You'd break poor Jiminie’s heart if you continued seeing him once he found out how he acted today.”
You knew he was guilt tripping you and it was working. But you swore Guwon was better than the others, he had treated you with a gentleness and care your friends had shown yet something had changed after that night. 
Was Taehyung's clinginess, their presence in general, been the catalyst?
Had he felt threatened by them showing up? You had established early on that they're your boss and your mother would've mentioned your relationship with the boys in passing at least, so why would he feel threatened by them?
“I know what you're thinking but it doesn't work like that.” His voice, now softer than it had been earlier, pierces through the trance you’ve submerged into. “Even if you had said you’re only friends with them, it's human nature for us to still feel intimidated even if we're just friends.”
“That's dumb.”
He shrugged. “Men are dumb, I'm just slightly better than the rest.”
“That's debatable.” You joked and he raised an eyebrow.
“ Your taste is questionable.” He shot back and you hit his arm in response, making him laugh but it stopped as fast as it came. “I'm serious, hyung won't like it if you continue meeting Guwon.”
“I know, I can already hear him and we're not even there yet.”
“Don’t be dumb, if you want a husband so bad, tell aunt to wait for me to renew our contract next year and I'll marry you.” 
He meant it as a joke, you knew that, but you couldn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering wildly. You're suddenly reminded of a scene from years ago, his alcohol-flushed cheeks pulled taut by the dopey smile stretching his lips wide and his slurred voice admitting something you—until today—have no recollection of what had been uttered.
You both have been battered to the nines, drunken out of your minds and stumbling over the smallest rocks on the street by the time Seokjin and Namjoon had found you halfway home. It was a miracle you both got off unscathed with how giggly and dumbed down you were.
“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”
“I got wealth, I got a good mug on me, what else would you need?”
“Seokjin also got those.”
He pondered long and hard, sucking air through his teeth before he turned to you again with a playful glint in his eyes.
“You know what they say about my tongue right?”
He couldn’t say he didn’t expect the punch in the arm that followed soon after.
When the elevator door opens and you both go straight for the dance studio, the conversation about Guwon is put on pause and you dread the moment Seokjin hears what had transpired in the coffee shop when suddenly, Yoongi stills and hissed out a curse.
“ Shit , I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”
40 notes · View notes
frudoo · 10 hours
Text
Bells Ring (2)
Title: Bells Ring
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Warnings: Mentions of self-harm (scratching), blood. One slap. Ewan is a warning of his own lmao.
MDNI
You’ve never succumbed to torture, but you can only imagine it hurts about as much as watching Ewan devour his overcooked steak without a care in the world, as if you haven’t just discovered that he has done the worst thing a spouse could do to you, his wife. It is pure agony being the only one to know of his affair. You’re not even sure if he’s noticed your lack of appetite or the pain in your expression. You’re not sure any of them have.
The prongs of your fork scrape against the fine china plate with a piercing screech, and three sets of curious eyes fall upon your flinching figure. You feel about as small as a junebug and just as inferior. The small grin you had seen on your husband’s face while he ate disappears when he looks at you, replaced by an annoyed downturn of his lips.
“Ye wuid be wise tae mind yer manners,” Ewan hisses, cold eyes narrowing at you before returning to the meal in front of him.
“My apologies, Your Highness,” you whisper, biting your lip to hold back the tears that threaten to spill from your red-tinged eyes.
“Wha’s gotten intae ye anywey?” Your husband questions, and you stiffen, the room suddenly suffocating, making you gasp for precious breath as your silverware drops onto the table with a clang.
“A-apologies, may I… I should like to cool down in my chambers,” you ramble, quickly standing from your chair and nearly tripping yourself in the process.
Ewan’s booming, irritated voice follows behind you as you rush through the halls, but you ignore him, desiring nothing more than to curl up beneath your duvet and cry your shriveled little heart out. Unfortunately you were not quick enough. Your husband slams his hand down on your shoulder and spins you so that you’re facing him, his dark eyebrows pinched together and pupils so shrunken you’d think he was about to berate a naughty dog. Perhaps that is how he sees you and precisely what he plans to do.
“Ye listen t’me,” you can feel the hot puffs of air escaping his nose like an irate dragon breathing fire, and fleetingly you wonder if the princesses locked up in those towers far, far away were not quite so miserable.
Despite his crystal clear demands, your mind does not process a single word your husband is saying, even as he presses your back against the wall and traps you in—funny, that very gesture used to make giddy heat blossom in your lower belly, and now it just makes your head pound with irritation and despair. You see his stubbled mouth moving and distantly recognize them as words you’re familiar with, but it’s as if no sound makes it to your ears.
“I read your letter,” you blurt out, causing Ewan to stop in the middle of his lecture.
A kaleidoscope of emotions twist in his oceanic eyes before settling on a devastating display of fear and rapidly heightening anger. Your husband scoffs, stepping back to cross his arms like a petulant child told they cannot open their Christmas present early. He’s utterly speechless, and perhaps you shouldn’t say anything more, but slippery words spill from your mouth before you can gather the sense to stop them on your tongue.
“I know it was not my place-”
“Ye’re reit, it wasnae yers tae-”
“Your Highness, please, just allow me to explain,” your bottom lip puckers as you reach out to place your hands on his chest, but he jerks away from your touch with a grimace. “I know it was not my place to read something of yours, but the fragrance on it was one I did not recognize. At first, I believed it may have been a relative of yours I was not made aware of, but that is not true, is it?”
Ewan’s gaze falls to the floor beneath his feet, but no effort to speak is made. His silence tugs at your heartstrings, and for once, it is not grief you feel but anger. Betrayal.
“Who is Coralie?” You question, pushing your foot between his to startle him into meeting your eyes once again. “As your wife, you owe me that.”
Still, no sound makes itself known from his traitorous lips, and it is enough to prove your suspicions as though the evidence had not already revealed itself to you. When you turn on your heels to continue the journey to your chambers, he does not dare follow you. There is no need to glance over your shoulder to know that he is still stood in place with that same dreadful expression on his face.
Your hands are shaking when you sit at the edge of your bed. Your nerves feel like they have been set ablaze, sharp pinpricks dancing across your skin viciously. Your senses are overwhelmed, your head is pounding, and the tremors swimming through you are the breaking point. A raspy scream rises from your throat, ricocheting off of the walls and startling the maids as well as yourself. You try to claw the pain away, digging your nails into your skin and scraping as hard as you can until blood cakes beneath the keratin.
An infinite amount of hands come rushing toward you from all over the palace, holding you down or giving you something to drink so that you can relax. The taste of honey and tart cherries runs down your aching throat before your body finally exhausts itself and you cannot fight them off any longer. In your chambers remain the nurse and a couple of laundresses who could not bear to leave you in this state.
The elixir you’d been given must have finally worked its way into your body, as sleep comes easy for you while the nurse cleans your wounds and bandages you up. She ties off the last tourniquet expertly, patting your hand fondly before pulling away to look you over. You are at peace in your sleep, no thoughts of your husband’s adultery making their way into your dreams, no fits stirring you from your slumber. It is the best sleep you have had in months.
Ewan is not quite so lucky, nervously shifting on both feet in the presence of his father. King MacTavish looks ready to have his head served up on a silver platter, his knuckles white from how tightly they grip his chair. Before your husband gets the chance to speak, his father inhales deeply, gruff voice rumbling lowly.
“Ah’ve tolerated this… quarrel ‘tween ye and yer wife fer long enough, now, but the state she is in—the state ye put ‘er in—is shameful,” John frowns, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wha’ were yer vows tae yer wife?”
“Da, ah dinnae understand-” John interrupts the baffled younger man, raising his large hand with a flick of his wrist.
“Mus’ ah repeat such a simple question? Answer me, no’ as yer father, bu’ as yer king.”
“Tae have an’ tae hold, fer better fer worse, fer richer fer poorer, in sickness an’ in health, tae love and tae cherish, till death do us part,” Ewan sighs, head lifted slightly to look at his father for approval.
“Continue,” John raises an eyebrow, displeased with the pathetic look on the prince’s face.
Ewan sucks in a deep breath through his nose, biting the side of his tongue to avoid raising his voice to the older man the way he so desperately desires to. Even upset, he knows better.
“Wit’ this ring ah thee wed, wit’ mah body ah thee worship, an’ wit’ all mah worldly goods ah thee endow, in the name of the Father, an’ of the Son, an’ of the Holy Ghost.”
“Ye made those vows ‘fore God, aye?” The king questions, fingertips tapping along the armrests of his seat.
“Aye, sir,” your husband nods, eyes darting all around the room nervously.
“Then why is yer wife bed-bound wit’ only the nurse tae keep ‘er company?” The king frowns. “Did she no’ make the same vows? Was she no’ there fer ye when ye fell ill some time ago?”
“Aye, she was, bu’... Father, we are no’...” Ewan hesitates, pulling at the hangnails adorning his fingertips.
“Speak, boy. Ah ken there is somethin’ ye’re keepin’ from me.”
“Ah’ve fallen fer another,” Ewan mutters, and the room falls silent—if someone were to drop a quill, the sound would resonate throughout the entire area.
“Pardon?” John speaks after an uncomfortable amount of quiet, his ordinarily blue eyes nearly black with emotion.
“When ah wen’ tae Paris, ah met a lass, an’... we fell in love.”
The king shuts his eyes and nods shortly, rising to his feet and slowly approaching his son. The prince flinches when John gets close, and rightfully so—he does not hesitate to slap the younger man’s cheek with the back of his hand, hard enough to leave red marks on both of them. Shocked, Ewan grabs his affected cheek and looks at his father with perched eyebrows and a hurt pout on his lips.
“Father-”
“Ye are nae son o’mine,” John spits, jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth grind, the dull ache overlooked in the midst of his rage. “Return tae yer chambers. Ah dinnae wish tae see ye a moment longer.”
Now playing the part of the kicked dog, Ewan follows orders and sits at the edge of his bed, seething.
40 notes · View notes
pyxxiestyxx · 2 days
Text
Snickerdoodle
(Cw: bittersweet, death and mourning, no kink) She looked at the affini in the way one looks at the stars for the first time, in the way that was filled with equal parts confusion and wonder and that dizzying sense of perceiving something wholly unlike the world she ever knew. The affini smiled down at her with a serenity that felt impossible to shake, holding out a gift, an invitation, and a promise.
It was called a 'snickerdoodle', a word that felt like laughter on her tongue when she said it. She said it twelve times that night: once to make sure she heard it correctly, ten times in the mirror to herself after she got home, and once more before turning off the light. The last thoughts that spun through her head tasted of warm vanilla and softly sweet cinnamon, of wishing she could always have one in her bedside table for hard moments. To remind her of this Day.
Her Spring was a season of firsts: first dates, first kisses, first secrets, first dances in starlight. She learned how warm the affini's core was as they embraced, slowly circling the pavilion where they first met as they stepped in time with the music that was felt more than heard. She gave her last true choice on that night, offered it up to the one who wrapped around her heart and sang her a lullaby.
She spoke with her affini in the way an old married couple does, in the way that was less words and more humming and gentle sighs and careful flicks of their eyes. Of shared jokes and shared memories and shared love, of a trust that only deepened with time. It was the girl's greatest and most beloved gift: the relationship between her and her affini was irreplicable, irreplaceable, irremovable. She lived a thousand days of warmth and movement and passion, of sweat on her brow and rosy red blushing her cheeks. And after they were done, she felt the affini's serenity cascade through her muscles and fill her thoughts.
She took up baking, working on her craft for years. Her hands grew strong and sure as they kneaded dough and mixed the ingredients together. She sang while she worked, a trait she learned from her affini. They would often bake together, the harmony in their voices carrying out the open window and over the nearby hills. It rang of joy, the kind one has when they are happy to be alive, to be in this very moment, to share a memory with another. She never tied her hair up, so her affini would always have to reach behind her and keep it out of the way. The girl always rolled her eyes and laughed when the affini shook a vine at her in mock warning.
Her Summer was a season of motion: bodies in motion, motioning for friends to come closer, the motion of a musical melody. She learned about change, on how affini would grow old and weaker before being reborn in an eruption of vines and love. She held her affini's hand as they closed their many eyes on this bloom, and squealed with joy as they lifted her on arms anew. She gave her last sigh of relief that morning, the last true worry in her mind extinguished.
She walked with her affini in the way one walks when their body is aging faster than their mind, in the way that was an itch to run and frolic and get dirt on her knees…but accepted that most of those days were behind her. She smiled with some of that same serenity now, the kind of peace one can hold in their heart when they have been content for a long, long time.
She couldn't bake as much anymore, so she took to teaching the newer florets her craft. It was rewarding to watch them grow under her watchful eye, to shake her head and sigh with mock exasperation at their antics. How silly they are!, she would mutter to her affini. Surely I wasn't like that? And oh, how her affini would chuckle and roll their shoulders in a shrug, before telling the florets about how their mentor used to skip stones on the pond out back, or how she used to shriek and play just as they did.
Her Autumn was a season of relaxation: relaxing into chairs, into baths, into the vines of her beloved. She learned the pleasure that came from watching the world around her, of being a part of it and sinking into it and through it, woven like fine threads as they slowly walked to the pavilion to watch the sunset. She gave her last steps that evening, one last dance as she rested her weary head on her affini's chest.
They held their floret's hand in the way one holds a precious treasure, in the way one holds memories and songs and laughter in their heart. Their floret had been bedridden for a long time by now, but they both knew that change would always come. Her floret smiled down at them with a serenity that felt impossible to understand, squeezing their vines with every ounce of strength they had left in their fragile bones.
The affini was asked to look in the bedside drawer, which held her last gift to them: A cookie she had baked over a century ago, held in perfect stasis, still warm from the oven the floret had pulled it out of. The affini gently broke it in half, letting them both savor the cinnamon and vanilla together. A last meal, a last memory, a last moment. A worn and wrinkled hand wrapped around the vines of someone both young and old, squeezing for the last time.
Their Winter was a season of loss: losing nights to worry, losing days to planning, losing their mind to grief. They learned anew the pain that comes with change, the trembling in their core that cried out for their floret to be pushed against it. They learned about the letter when they were cleaning their floret's room, the letter old after sitting under the pillow for years.
"To my beloved, my one, my everything,
My Life was one of sharing: sharing songs, sharing dances, sharing memories and golden dreams and little things. I learned about you, about how you gave me so, so much, more than I could ever hope to ask for and then more. You opened yourself to me, knowing you would be here after, knowing you would suffer. I cannot hope to understand the depths of your love; I only hope you knew that mine was deeper than I ever thought possible. I give you my last words, so that you can find that same serenity you gave me:
I love you more than there are stars in the sky, and I want you to remember me when you next make a treat for a new one to hold. I want you to smile your wonderful smile, the one that ensnared my heart and led me places I could only dream of before. Fill their world with cinnamon and vanilla, my love, and show them how to let go of what hurts to cling to. Let yourself make those new memories; your warmth is too special to be left alone.
My darling, my affini, my life: show them how we used to dance.
I remain, as always, Your Floret, now and forever"
40 notes · View notes