Author's Note: I kinda rushed this one, but I hope my Xavier girlies still like it <33 Please Check Out The Artist! (Artist & Original Post)
Xavier doesn’t pause the match; he doesn’t have to. One glance at you whining across from him, and he’s already slipping two fingers into your needy cunt. “Shh. Be good and let me finish this round,” he whispers as his fingers curl just right. He hopes his teammates don’t hear you; but the way your slick coats his knuckles, and the way your whimper? Part of him wants them to. ⭐
Xavier is a jealous man. You smile a little too sweetly at the guy down the hall, and an hour later, Xavier’s in your bedroom like a storm. No warning. No words. He bends you over the nearest surface and fucks you mean, hips snapping hard enough to make the furniture creak. ⭐
It’s not just about fucking you; it’s about burying himself in you, over and over, until the only thing left in your head is him. “Let him hear how wet you get for me,” he groans, breath hot against your spine. “You think anyone else could fuck you this deep?” And when you cum? He keeps going. ⭐
Thigh-fucking with him! It’s rare, but Xavier gets needy. He won’t say he’s begging, but the way he grips your thighs like he’ll die without you says otherwise. You press them together just right, and let him rut between them like a desperate thing. His cock slides through the plush squeeze of your thighs, flushed and throbbing, the head brushing your folds but never breaching. ⭐
The second you’re both off the clock, his fingers are in your panties. Doesn’t matter if he’s half-asleep or still in his hoodie; Xavier needs to touch you. His middle finger grazes your clit, slow at first, then rolling with more urgency as you lean into him. ⭐
⋆⭒˚.⟡.ᐟF*ck her, flip her, bend her backwards!!*ੈ✩‧₊˚
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ — INSTRUCTIONS you must be logged into Twitter beforehand to access these links, remember, I do NOT control what the publishers write for the headings (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ — P*RN ST⟡RS INCLUDES Xavier, Zayne, Caleb, Rafayel, Sylus
A/N If ya’ll know me in real life, literally just scroll and save me from embarrassment, just read my actually fics and not this😭🫶 and yes, per usual, I have poc friendly links ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ ‘n’ do not force yourself to watch this, it’s p-links
⏦ﾟ♡︎XAVIER ⎛ Warnings ; cunnilingus, oral (fem), breast play, fingering, making out, cowgirl, breeding, face down ass up⎞
꒰ lazily eating you out while fingering your pussy ☆ ꒱ ꒰ sucking on your tits while you bounce on his cock ☆ ꒱
꒰ taking his time with you only for him to get more needy and hungry for your juices ☆ ꒱ ꒰ sluggishly playing with your pussy after he wakes up from a nap ☆ ꒱
꒰ making out ☆ ꒱ ꒰ jealous Xavier ☆ ꒱
poc links below (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
꒰ drunk Xavier ☆ ꒱ ꒰ pushing your legs to your chest, breeding your pretty pussy ☆ ꒱
꒰ fucking up into you ☆ ꒱ ꒰ jealous Xavier pounding you once you get back home ☆ ꒱
꒰ more jealous Xavier ☆ ꒱ ꒰ subby Xavier letting you bounce on him ☆ ꒱
꒰ sit on his face ☆ ꒱ ꒰ nasty, sticky sex with Caleb, his cum all over your skin ☆ ꒱
꒰ using your hand to get off ☆ ꒱ ꒰ watching your ass bounce and jiggle while he fucks you in doggy ☆ ꒱
꒰ fucking into you while toying with your clit ☆ ꒱ ꒰ eating you out while stroking himself ☆ ꒱
poc links below (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
꒰ sucking him off in his kitchen ☆ ꒱ ꒰ watching your ass jiggle with every thrust ☆ ꒱
꒰ gagging and chocking on his cock ☆ ꒱ ꒰ Caleb’s too lazy to tug off your clothes, just pulling your panties to the side and shopping his cock inside you ☆ ꒱
꒰ mating press on his couch ☆ ꒱ ꒰ the only snack in the kitchen is you ☆ ꒱
꒰ sucking on your tits ☆ ꒱ ꒰ one of your thigh on his shoulder while he pounds into you ☆ ꒱
꒰ fucking you in this position to watch all your pretty reactions and expressions ☆ ꒱ ꒰ sticky mess ☆ ꒱
꒰ grabbing your thighs tightly while he eats you out to ensure you don’t writer and squirm away from him ☆ ꒱ ꒰ back shots ☆ ꒱
poc links below (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
꒰ size kink ☆ ꒱ ꒰ it’s just the both of you at his private pool, what’s wrong with having a quick fuck? ☆ ꒱
꒰ tearing your shorts off your body so he has a better view of your stretched out pussy ☆ ꒱ ꒰ he loves your tits so much that he would want to fuck them ☆ ꒱
꒰ creampie, filling you up over and over until you get pregnant ☆ ꒱ ꒰ he does not care who sees or hears you, he’ll pound you until both of you are an overstimulated mess ☆ ꒱
I’m probably not gonna post any fics this week, maybe next week tho<3
warnings: sexual content below! p-links and sexually explicit descriptions are in this post
i genuinely don't know what to say anymore but this is sylus. on everyone's soul, THIS IS SYLUS
this one too
this too
sylus likes to fuck his seed back into you himself, he does so quite softly. it's an extremely intimate act when he does it, he's gentle and slow, and it's really not about possession to him. he just likes it— the warmth, the slickness, the sound, and the lewdness of it all.
> heavy breeding kink with no hints of possessiveness, he straight up just wants you to have his kid idfk. he would definitely say stuff like, "you're going to make a wonderful mother to our kids." / "kitten, one day you're going to get pregnant and i'm going to be so lucky." / "fuck, kitten, you want me to fuck my cum back into you, right? you want me to get you pregnant, right?"
idk why but this one gives me a caleb vibes
this one is also him
this one too
this too 😭😭😭
i keep adding caleb links im tweaking
caleb really enjoys watching his cum leak out of you. he would tease you, "pipsqueak, you're wasting it", as he just watches you squirm. to him, this is something akin to 'marking' you, walking up behind you later while out talking about, "think you're still leaky, pip."
> he's also probably got a crazy breeding kink mixed with a little —or a lot— bit of crazy obsession idfk, shit like "when your belly gets big, everyone's going to know who you belong to" / "one day i'm gonna get you pregnant" / "you'd look so good carrying my child, pips" / "if you let it all out, you'll hurt my feelings pips."
i think rafayel kind of goes feral once you let him cum in you... like he just keeps going idk
teasing him
rafayel is less breeding kink more crazy about you. loves anything to do with you, sex is not an exception, and he puts you on a pedestal a little differently to the rest of the boys. a bit like a mutt, you let him cum in you and suddenly he can't stop rutting into you, trying to chase another high.
> less breeding kink, more pathetic subby male who is so fucking excited to be fucking you. "fuck. fuck. fuck. 'm gonna cum again, please? please let me keep going?" / "princess, you feel soo good, please." / "princess, i'm sorry, let's keep going..." / "i'll be so good for you, princess, let me keep going."
sorry i know you specifically asked for breeding and i know this isn't but it still has cum ...
this is also zayne idk
zayne....
zayne rarely ever finishes inside of you, citing that it's not good for you, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to. idk how to explain it, he doesn't let himself finish inside of you because he's worried he'll lose self control.
> heavily likes the idea of breeding, like it probably takes everything in his body to not ram into you as he feels his balls squeeze, probably in your ear talking about "you'd look so beautiful pregnant." / "want to start a family with you." / "one day i'm going to get you pregnant, no need to worry." / "if you keep asking me to cum in you, i just might one day..."
i think xavier would like you fucking yourself with his cum... like shoving anything that comes out back inside
this one too
anotha one
xavier just wants to watch your fingers plug your hole up to prevent any more spillage. it brings a smile to his face to see how desperate you are to keep all of his seed inside of you, it probably gets him hard all over again prompting him to say something like, "don't worry, there's more where that came from."
> no specific breeding kink per say but likes the possessive element of pregnancy like caleb, "they'll know what we get up to at night." / "maybe when you're pregnant he'll stop coming up to you" / "want everyone to know how good you make me feel every night"
notes : i couldnt find that many links 😭😭😭 i've been searching all day so i'm sorry anon... pls forgive me... i hope the little blurbs makeup for the lack of links :(
Warnings: MDNI, PIV sex, creampies, pussy eating, cum eating, clit play
Sylus, who's a sucker for eating you out after giving you a creampie. His teeth are gritted as he sets up a delicious rhythm inside your gummy walls, engorged cockhead brushing your gpot with each stroke.
The way he grips you, fingers sinking into your soft skin, all the while growling his pleasure into your ear leave you weak in the knees, knowing how much you turn him on.
"Fuck, so tight for me kitten." His low, raspy voice fills your ear and you arch your back like an animal in heat, your cunt clenching around his hard velvety cock. A ring of cream gathers at the base of his erection, mewls of pleasure leaving your lips as his fingers start to toy with your sensitive clit, already tender from a previous orgasm.
The pads of his fingers are gentle on the swollen nub, gathering your combined fluids that are leaking onto his shaft and pushing it onto the throbbing bud in circles. Your body feels unbearably hot, feeling the warning flutters of your impending orgasm pulsing inside your pussy. A keening moan escapes you as his hips angle upwards and his tip kisses your cervix with each stroke.
Sylus lets out a guttural groan, then whispers hotly in your ear, "You're close. I can feel you on my cock. Are you gonna cum all over me?"
The words are so crudely stimulating and you manage to nod. "That's my good kitten. Go on now, show me how much you want it."
His balls slap against your folds with each thrust and the coaxing circles on your clit are overwhelming, and in no time at all you cum hard on his cock, walls spasming pleasurably as you savor your release, the breath tearing from your throat.
"I'm almost..." Sylus grunts, his hips stuttering to keep up his rhythm. "Kitten, you're going to hold whatever I give you."
Your mind is in a fucked haze, and you shake your head, trying to concentrate. "What?"
"Hold what I give you. I'm going to fill you, and when I pull out, I need you to clench as hard as you can. Hold it all in until I tell you to. Can you do that?" His voice is breathless like he's struggling to form the words.
You're confused but agree. "Ok. I'll hold it."
"Good girl." Sylus starts to rut into you with abandon, his hands tightening almost painfully around your waist, then with a growl of satisfaction, he buries himself to the hilt as his hot seed pours into you. You can feel him twitching inside you as he empties himself, then he strokes yuor back tenderly.
"Remember what I told you," he murmurs then slides out of your well-fucked hole, and you quickly tighten your walls, holding his seed as best as you can. Sylus ensures you're steady on your hands and knees before he slips between your thighs, his face underneath your glistening pussy. His lips kiss your messy folds while his tongue parts them and you clench tighter, trying not to relax too soon.
When his mouth is in position right under your core, his nose firmly lodged against your clit, he gives you a command, muffled against your moist cunt. "Unclench."
You relax, and immediately feel the sticky fluid drop down your wet channel, dripping it's way outside your body, then realize, with a jolt, what Sylus intended to do and it brings a blush to your face. His mouth opens to receive the sweet cream, catching the droplets on his tongue, savoring the taste as it slides down his throat. His lips seal around your hole and he sucks, drawing out every last drop he had given you, and your helplessly being tongue fucked, your clit bumping into his nose with each move.
Primal instinct takes over and you rock your hips on his face, enjoying the grinding friction, exposed and overstimulated but you can't stop yourself, unashamedly moaning his name, feeling so filthy knowing what he's drinking from you, and the combination is too much. With a cry, you cum on his face, and he eagerly laps up the liquidy juice like an offering.
You gaze down at his messy face, watching him lick his lips clean, ruby eyes glittering in a pussy drunk fog.
"Get some rest kitten. You'll need it if you plan to survive the next round."
a/n: make sure to login to twitter (x) prior! I apologize in advance if some videos are soon to be taken down from twitter, this is out of my control but I hope you see this post before that happens! THIS POST CONTAINS VISUAL SMUT ⚠️
𝐋𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠…𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧ᯓᡣ𐭩
“Taste Test”
Inviting him to “play video games”
The other neighbors hate you two
Hunters Association Bathroom
Waking up during a nap
𝐋𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠…𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚ᯓᡣ𐭩
Checkup
Losing a bet
Wearing the gift he bought you
Dessert is his weakness
Morning routine
𝐋𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠…𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡ᯓᡣ𐭩
At home after the arcade
Painting your chest white
Hand on your throat
Fingering you
Your pleasure is his pleasure
𝐋𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠…𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨ᯓᡣ𐭩
Sucking his Thumb
Brat Taming
Against the Wall
Punishment
Affinity 41: Toy Handcuffs
want part 2? click here! —->
whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
Exploring good traits gone bad in a novel can add depth and complexity to your characters. Here are a few examples of good traits that can take a negative turn:
1. Empathy turning into manipulation: A character with a strong sense of empathy may use it to manipulate others' emotions and gain an advantage.
2. Confidence becoming arrogance: Excessive confidence can lead to arrogance, where a character belittles others and dismisses their opinions.
3. Ambition turning into obsession: A character's ambition can transform into an unhealthy obsession, causing them to prioritize success at any cost, including sacrificing relationships and moral values.
4. Loyalty becoming blind devotion: Initially loyal, a character may become blindly devoted to a cause or person, disregarding their own well-being and critical thinking.
5. Courage turning into recklessness: A character's courage can morph into reckless behavior, endangering themselves and others due to an overestimation of their abilities.
6. Determination becoming stubbornness: Excessive determination can lead to stubbornness, where a character refuses to consider alternative perspectives or change their course of action, even when it's detrimental.
7. Optimism becoming naivety: Unwavering optimism can transform into naivety, causing a character to overlook dangers or be easily deceived.
8. Protectiveness turning into possessiveness: A character's protective nature can evolve into possessiveness, where they become overly controlling and jealous in relationships.
9. Altruism becoming self-neglect: A character's selflessness may lead to neglecting their own needs and well-being, to the point of self-sacrifice and burnout.
10. Honesty becoming brutal bluntness: A character's commitment to honesty can turn into brutal bluntness, hurting others with harsh and tactless remarks.
These examples demonstrate how even admirable traits can have negative consequences when taken to extremes or used improperly. By exploring the complexities of these traits, you can create compelling and multi-dimensional characters in your novel.
✩ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k
SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.
WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!
RATING | mature
AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!
TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen
Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.
Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.
Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—
Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.
But one in particular catches your eye.
Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.
In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.
You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.
And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.
Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.
“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.
Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.
Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”
Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”
Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”
Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.
“Want your usual?”
“Yes, please!”
However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—
“WATCH OUT!”
With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.
“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”
You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”
“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”
Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.
“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”
All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.
“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”
You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”
You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.
Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”
Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.
Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.
“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”
“How would I know how to reach out to you?”
He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”
You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?
“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”
His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”
“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.
“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”
Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”
He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.
“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”
At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”
Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.
Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.
While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”
Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”
Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.
“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”
Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.
Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.
“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”
When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”
He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”
You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.
“Your head good though?”
You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”
In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”
Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again.
But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.
On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?
Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation.
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”
Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”
“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.”
Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.
And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.
“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”
The camera’s now on Mark’s face.
The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.
He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.
From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.
Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.
He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.
Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.
All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.
“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”
Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.
Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”
Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?
“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.
But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.
The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow.
You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.
Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.
Because for you, it’s game time.
Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?
The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.
As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.
This is perfect timing for you too.
However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—
And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.
Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else.
But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.
Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.
“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”
His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”
He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.
“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”
At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.
Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.
He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”
“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”
After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”
You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles.
Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”
“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.
“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”
“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”
“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck.
You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”
“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”
“You don’t owe me anything—”
“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”
This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market.
“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”
Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”
“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”
As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”
“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”
Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”
“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm.
Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually.
“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”
Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh.
“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.
Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark.
“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.
“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.
After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.
“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.
“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.
He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.
“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”
“Yes, definitely!”
Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.
“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.
Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.
“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.
Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.
“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”
After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.
As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.
In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.
He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.
Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.
“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.
You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.
Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.
He twists around with his visor open.
“Ready?”
You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.
Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.
On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.
In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.
Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.
The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.
Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.
However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.
You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.
The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.
By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.
When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.
Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.
“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”
He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”
As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.
Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.
Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.
“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”
“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.
After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”
Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”
He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.
“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”
Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.
Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.
He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...
Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.
You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.
And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.
Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.
An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.
You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.
“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”
“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”
The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.
At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.
Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.
Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.
The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.
His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).
It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.
Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.
Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.
Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.
Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.
“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”
It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”
He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.
“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.
“Neither do I.”
And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.
Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.
He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.
When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”
You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.
It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.
“Mark, please, just—”
Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.
The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.
Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.
With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.
As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.
“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.
“Huh?”
“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.
You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”
“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.
“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”
Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.
His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.
You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.
Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.
But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”
Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”
“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”
Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.
“You close?”
You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.
It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.
“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”
Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.
When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.
“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”
“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”
In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.
Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.
Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.
God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...
“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”
He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.
“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”
You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.
Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.
Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.
More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.
As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.
Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.
“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.
But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.
“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.
“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”
You hesitate with closed eyes.
“Could I... ride your arm?”
Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.
“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.
Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”
“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”
“Yeah?”
Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”
Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.
Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”
He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”
You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.
Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.
His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.
“This okay still?” you breathe.
“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”
You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.
“Oh, God,” Mark pants.
You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.
“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”
It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.
Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.
Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.
The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.
Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.
He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.
At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.
He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.
Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.
As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.
There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...
And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...
It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.
He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.
Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.
EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER
Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.
Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.
With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.
“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.
The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”
“Oh, my God, Chenle...”
“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? He's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”
You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”
“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.
Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.
Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.
“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.
“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”
Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”
“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”
Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”
“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”
You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.
“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”
In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.
After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”
You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.
“And you have me,” you add jokingly.
He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”
The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.
Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.
Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.
You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.
You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.
That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...
Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.
But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.
And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.
He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:
“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."
Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.
Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.
All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.
↳ summary: in which the boy you fall in love with isn’t who you think he is.
↳ warnings: character death, political unrest, violence, nudity, explicit sexual content (oral, penetration, switch!renjun, switch!reader, cum play), may contain historical inaccuracies
↳ a/n: influenced heavily by the events of the french revolution.
1791
Ominously, the large, mahogany doors of the Royal Court open. Two guards tightly grip the arms of a shadow, and as the three slowly approach the center of the room, you realize it is a middle-aged, disheveled, pitiful-looking man who wouldn’t put up much of a fight against the guards anyway.
Across a large table sit the Members of the Royal Court. They include some barons and earls, along with religious leaders. Your father, the King, sits at the center, looking especially royal in his brand-new purple robes, and you sit by his side, your fingers intertwined together neatly.
“Order!” Your father announces loudly to the Court. The barons and lords’ chatters die, and the room is silent.
“Name?” Asks the King.
“Kim Donghyun,” the man says. He is practically just skin and bones, and it makes you think about how you’ve never gone a day without having three exquisite meals.
You guiltily avoid his gaze; he doesn’t notice. His attention is toward the King. Due to the days of sitting in a dungeon in utter darkness waiting for his trial and sentencing, he has to blink a few times to get adjusted to the bright light in the Court.
“What is your crime?”
Kim Donghyun takes a deep breath. You observe him intently, and you notice how he is practically quaking in fear at being in front of the King. The only time a peasant like him would ever be graced with the presence of the King is when it is nothing good at all.
Being tried in front of the Royal Court constitutes as ‘nothing good at all.’
“Theft,” he says in a small voice. At his fear, the King looks at him in disdain. Kim Donghyun knows that his time is limited, and he won’t die without a shred of dignity.
He raises his voice. “I did it for my family.”
“Only describe the crime,” the King interjects.
“I work in the farming district. In an apple orchard. Instead of turning over all the apples I collected to the cart that takes it to distribution centers, I kept some hidden in my home.”
The King turns to look at the rest of the Court and discusses quietly, avoiding your gaze. You’re able to make out some words, such as ‘sin’ and ‘infestation of the poor,’ but you don’t interact. Of course, he ignores you, as if you don’t have an opinion. As the only woman on the Court, you were only there after you convinced (more like begged) your father. Deciding a man’s fate wasn’t apt work for a royal woman, whose responsibilities lie in producing a legitimate, male heir for the Kingdom after your father chooses your husband, who is the next in line to the throne – not you, who is your father’s own flesh blood and has a right to the throne. You told your father that Queen Elizabeth I more almost three hundred years ago took the throne of England and ruled through a golden age, dismantling your father’s claim that women weren’t fit to rule, but your father argued that was why England didn’t have a direct, legitimate heir, and why England fell into turmoil after Queen Elizabeth’s death in 1603.
“There is only one suitable punishment for thieves,” The King says in a sure, kingly voice. You gulp harshly. You knew the next words that would come out of his mouth, after sitting in the Royal Court’s proceedings, which all practically ended the same way, no matter how big or small the offense is. He doles out this punishment like it’s nothing. There used to be other punishments for thieves such as cutting off their hands, but the only places those punishments are described in history books.
“Death by The Dragon’s Fang!” Your father declares. Through the ornately decorated window, you see the chopping block where executions take place. The Dragon’s Fang, the family sword that has been an important symbol of Justice in your Kingdom, cuts cleanly across the neck of whoever has done the Kingdom of Ambrosia wrong. Sharpened every day by the Executioner, it never gives anything but a decisive end to someone’s life.
“Please,” the man pleads. The chains around his wrists rattle as he folds his hands together tightly in desperation. The two guards accompanying him hold him even tighter, creating small impressions on his skinny body, but your father gestures for them to let go of Kim Donghyun. He falls to his knees, tears forming at the rims of his eyes.
You’ve sat through hundreds of proceedings, and every single one of them rips a new hole in your heart.
“I never intended to steal,” he explains. “My family, we’re starving. Starving!” He screams in anguish. The guards come closer to him but do not hold him like they once did; desperate this man is, but not desperate enough to run.
“It’s no excuse,” the King says firmly.
“I had to do it. Come to the farming district yourself! We’re all suffering before dying of starvation and disease. Reeking dead bodies are everywhere and we have no medicine and no food! How are we supposed to live?”
At his anguished voice, you decide that you’re not going to let this be yet another proceeding that you will watch and do nothing about the result. After all, this is supposed to be your kingdom in the future, not your future husbands, even though it doesn’t seem like that.
“He’s right,” you say. Stunned gasps echo through the room. Not a single member of the Royal Court has second-guessed any of the King’s decisions. But you do not let that affect the firmness in your voice.
“How are the working class supposed to serve us if we cannot give them enough resources to live?” You spin it another way. You don’t truly mean what you say, only giving the situation in this light in order for your father to understand; he only understands when things affect him; the rest of the Court are the same way, almost medically unable to expand their cold, selfish hearts to show a little compassion.
“If we show mercy to this one man,” your father says patiently, “then others will start doing the same thing. We need to make an example of the misdeeds of this man, to prevent further law-breaking.” Your father knows of your compassion for others, an un-queenly trait that he thinks you will outgrow when you get a little more experience with royal affairs, the only reason why he let you take part in the proceedings of the Royal Court. Being that you’re only a child, twenty years old, you have not the same maturity as a seasoned King. But to you, it’s not just a phase.
Whatever happened to the great leaders of yesteryear who knew when to show compassion and when to rule with an iron fist? Your father’s ruthless punishments are what earned him the title of ‘The Mad King’ by the commoners, according to the King’s spies (aptly called his ‘Ears’) everywhere. It is even rumored that the Resistance, an organization whose goal is to destroy the royal family, is real. After hearing about the American Revolution and the Revolution in France, common people hold out hope for a democracy, where everyone’s voices are heard. The writings of Thomas Paine and John Locke started circulating in the Kingdom of Ambrosia and have stirred up more political unrest than what could be imagined.
Your father afterward made it his mission to find every copy of Common Sense and Two Treatises of Government and burn them, as well as execute anyone with a physical copy of those books. He could not have that sort of insolence from his subjects. However, that did nothing; the words were still in peoples’ minds, spreading to others orally, and who knows how many illegitimate copies there are, the words printed on cloth or in their minds? This made people want to get bootlegged copies even more. If the commoners had enough food on the table and compassionate leaders, then their cries for revolution are quieter. If the Gods chose you to be a ruler, then that means that the Gods see leadership potential in your lineage, and you should follow that.
“I’m not saying to spare Kim Donghyun any punishment,” you explain cooly with your hands in your lap in a lady-like fashion, just as your governess taught you when you were little. “There are other means of punishment which will get the point across.”
“Other means of punishment?” Your father echoes in a tone that makes you feel small. “Stealing is a sin and sins are punishable by death.”
“Can’t he get a whipping? I’m sure that he learned his lesson. He’s frightened to death and needs to feed his –”
“Quiet, girl!” The King declares. Instantly, you feel your father’s palm connect with your cheek, and a stinging sensation burns your skin. This immediately makes your tear ducts tingle with the need to let hot tears roll down your cheeks, but you will not let the Royal Court see you as a little girl being chastised by her father.
You are a young woman and one that is to be the future queen at that.
At the way you take a painful slap, Kim Donghyun meets your gaze with a resigned, yet thankful look at your efforts. He already knows that in a few short minutes, his blood will be pooling on the floor in the adjacent room.
“The Royal Court here rules that Kim Donghyun is sentenced to death by the Dragon’s Fang.” He bangs the gavel against the table loudly, glancing at you before locking gazes with Kim Donghyun. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t scream. He knew he took a massive risk with those apples. He only wished that he stole more because the look of satisfaction when his wife and children ate was intoxicating.
The two guards grab Kim Donghyun’s elbows before escorting them out of the Royal Court and into the next room. The window gives a clear view of the large chopping block stained with dry, brown blood where Kim Donghyun is supposed to lean, his knees on the floor, his neck and the edge of the block lining up. Then, the Executioner takes the Dragon’s Fang and raises it above his head. He doesn’t close his eyes at the sight he is about to see, a ritual he has performed thousands of times, only asking the victim for any last words, as you can tell from seeing this proceeding many times. Kim Donghyun says something, but you are not sure what. Then, the Executioner swings the sword, and Kim Donghyun crumbles to the ground in two parts after a sickening crunch (that you’ve heard so many times, it echoes in your head).
You think you’re going to be sick.
-
Just like there were many court proceedings before the trial of Kim Donghyun, there are many afterward. The Resistance is growing larger, according to the King’s Ears, and is ready to plan something large. Normally, your father would not tolerate this insolence against the royal family. He would have liked to nip it in the bud and hang the bodies of all the rebels in front of the streets to make an example out of them, but the King is running into a huge problem: he is close to bankruptcy. He barely has enough resources to pay guards and mercenaries to protect the current palace, as well as cooks and maids and servants. He doesn’t have enough resources to pay for a large army and create a special task force to get rid of the rebels. After spending his money on clothes and shoes, brand new wings of the palace and concubines, he was spending money faster than he was receiving it.
Obviously, you knew that this was a serious problem, and it was information that select people had access to; Royal advisors were trying their best to make sure that this information was kept under a tight lid and wouldn’t find its way to the Resistance. Royal advisors suggested that the King find a source of needed materials without raising taxes yet again, and that’s where you come to play. Your father arranged for you to meet a suitor to set up a much-needed marriage alliance.
Today, you would be meeting the Prince of Neo, Huang Renjun. Neo is a small kingdom a few days journey from you by the sea, and they are known for their ample craftsman class who commission some of the finest weapons. They are also a source of skilled fighters, and they will be more likely to ship off their people and provide resources to Ambrosia if they have a suitable marriage alliance.
As much as you hated being auctioned off like an antique vase, it was something that couldn’t be helped as a royal woman. You only hope that this Huang Renjun isn’t like the other suitors you have met, who are snooty and stuck up, ruthless as if they are miniature versions of your father. More importantly, you wish that they won’t cast you aside, using you as a pawn to get their hands on the better prize, the Kingdom of Ambrosia, the largest kingdom in the area.
There’s already tension in the air when you are escorted by your mother and lady’s maids into the drawing room where you first lay eyes on Huang Renjun.
His raven-colored hair is neatly gelled and combed, and his skin is pale in contrast. He stands up politely at your presence, and you get a good look at his clothing: rich, exactly what you expect for a royal from another kingdom. He wears red robes with delicate, intricate yellow designs, and you suspect the material is velvet. He has white frills at his neck, and milky white socks that compliment the black shoes at his feet, which have a gold flower at the center of the foot to match the gold designs on his robes.
You’re thankful that the suitor you’re meeting is actually in the same age range as you, but it’s an additional bonus that he’s one of the most beautiful men you’ve met without even trying.
He is also observing you with the same tenacity as you do with him: You’re wearing a crown of pink flowers on your head, which matches the pink flowers on your sky-blue dress. Your skirt is large and trails at your behind, which shows your royal standing, and the sky-blue sleeves of your dress slowly become white lace as his eyes follow from your shoulders to your wrists. The sleeves of your dress are cone-like, and the edges are able to reach your knees.
For a few seconds, you meet Renjun’s gaze. His eyes are a beautiful dark brown, and they offer you a friendly look, which puts your heart at slight ease.
“Princess Y/N, this is Prince Renjun of Neo,” your mother introduces in a voice that makes it seem like she has known Prince Renjun for a long time (which she hasn’t).
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, your Highness,” Renjun says. His voice is absolutely magnificent, song-like, and dreamy. He steps forward and bends down on one knee, taking your right hand and kissing the back of it.
His lips feel warm against your skin.
There are a few other men by Renjun’s side. There are his personal guards, who came with him on the carriage ride from his castle to yours, and another man in fine clothing, someone you failed to notice due to your observant study of Huang Renjun.
“And this is the King of Neo,” your mother continues, gesturing. He bows down and takes the time to bend down and kiss your mother’s hand (which has her bubbling with pleasant words) and your hand, which you give a curt greeting. His black robe shuffles as he steps back, and you study Renjun side-by-side with his father.
“Pleased to meet you, Your Highnesses,” he says.
A few maids come in bearing silver trays piled with bite-sized sandwiches, in the shape of a pyramid. You and your mother take one, while Renjun and his father take one each, all four of you being overly courteous to the help in an effort to keep appearances.
“Your daughter looks like a lovely young lady, perfect for my Renjun,” the King of Neo comments, giving your mother a gracious smile. “So elegant and full of grace, she will make a fine queen and wife, Your Highness,” he addresses your mother.
“Thank you for your kind words,” Your mother responds back, her eyes crinkling as a part of her practiced genuine smile. “May I escort you to the King? He has some matters that he would like to discuss with you.”
“Of course, my good lady,” the King of Neo responds back courteously. Your mother leads the way out of the room, and a few maids look like they are going to follow her, to make sure that she is okay, but she only needs to give a flick of her wrist for them to disperse back into the drawing room. Now, you and Renjun are alone, except for the help, but they don’t count. You’re grateful that your mother has left you both alone because you absolutely hate being chaperoned during meets with suitors – it makes you more nervous having that extra company. That just shows how important this alliance is for the Kingdom that your mother understands your weakness and tries to put you on the best possible foot to make a good performance for Huang Renjun.
Performance. The word has the connotation relating it to a game, which is what this whole suitor business is.
“Please have a seat,” you say to Renjun, gesturing at the plush pink-and-green sofa that he abandoned when you entered the room. There is a small ottoman opposite of the sofa, and there is a glass table in between with the pyramid of sandwiches that the maid brought a few minutes ago. You’re ready to bring up something about the weather and other practiced lines you have prepared for occasions like this when something catches your eye on the table, a leather-bound book. It is a copy of The Oresteia by Aeschylus. You remember reading it back when you were still taught by a governess.
“Excellent choice,” you start off, gesturing to the volume on the table.
Renjun smiles at you, a pretty sight just as beautiful as his voice.
“Thank you. You have a wonderful library, larger than the one I have at home,” he says in awe. The library room is in the next room, and it is dark and paneled with fine wood; it would not be a good choice to meet a suitor, for it is a major turn-off if a woman is too well-educated, enough that she would love books more than making an heir for the family.
Personally, the library room is your favorite room in the house.
“You don’t have Oresteia in your library?”
“No,” Renjun says sheepishly. “It’s been on my list of books to read for a long time, but I just haven’t had the chance to get a copy with all the suitors my father forc–” Renjun suddenly stops, realizing who he is talking to. His face turns into a bright beet red, thinking that he has messed up more than he ever thought he could.
Your face doesn’t shrivel with offense the way Renjun thought it would. He met a royal woman once who after he said he didn’t like blueberry scones, escorted him out of her castle. Instead, he is greeted by a smile. You experienced the same feeling.
“It’s okay,” you say lightly. “I wasn’t exactly that happy to meet you too.” You’re glad that your mother isn’t chaperoning, or anyone in your Court is either because hearing those words from your mouth would earn you a slap across your face. ‘A lady isn’t supposed to tell someone what she thinks,’ you can hear your mother’s and governess’ voices ringing in your ears (they practically had the same voice… all high-class women had a high pitch, sultry yet innocent voice).
Renjun finds your words refreshing; this is the first time he’s met a royal who actually says what she thinks, and that sort of directness is what he craves in someone – he hates having to analyze every little word in a woman’s sentence in order to find out what she truly means.
“How far are you?” You ask.
“Not very,” Renjun sighs. “I wished you came later so I would have had more time to read.” You titter a little, and Renjun is glad that he is able to see a real, genuine smile from you.
“But Clytemnestra has just killed King Agamemnon and Cassandra.” You nod, remembering yourself all those years ago holding this same volume. You’re trying to think of something to say that will contribute to the conversation when Renjun’s voice becomes lower.
“Do you think he deserved it?”
Initially, you’re not sure if you should answer the question. On one hand, you do want to answer the question because you can’t believe that you have a suitor who wants to intelligently discuss literature with you, a complete dream that you can’t believe is happening in real life, but there is another part of you that wants to follow your mother’s advice she gave you a long time ago when it came to meeting suitors: to not let him know too much about your opinions too early.
“I apologize,” Renjun says hesitantly. He just broke all rules when it comes to meeting suitors. He is also not supposed to ask questions like these. Questions like “what are your favorite sweets?” or “what is your favorite city?” are more appropriate for someone you just met.
“You don’t have to,” you say more confidently. “I think I understand Clytemnestra’s fury. Imagine finding out that your daughter was sacrificed so that your husband can help his brother get his wife back. There’s a line that has to be drawn between your family and someone else’s family, and Agamemnon failed to do so. Menelaus had other allies from various kingdoms that could help him, and Agamemnon could help in other ways than sacrificing his eldest daughter to Artemis. But Iphigenia only had Agamemnon. She was his daughter. He was supposed to protect her. He wasn’t supposed to auction her off to her death. So he must pay with his life,” you explain rationally.
Renjun is pretty sure that you’re not only talking about Oresteia anymore. And he’s right. Maybe you feel a little like Iphigenia, but the free will that you are sacrificing is for the good of your kingdom and not someone else’s.
After your father overspent his money, even after charging ridiculously high tax rates and has no means to quell the Resistance by force.
The way you passionately discussed literature was endearing to Renjun. He didn’t want to be stuck with a bimbo for the rest of his life, who was only interested in parties and pleasure. You have substance.
The two of you continue to discuss other Ancient Greek literature since much of the literature includes myths that are implicitly referenced in other works that people in those days would have understood. The conversation is entertaining, and you freely give your opinion and Renjun does the same, and you appreciate the candidness more than anything in the world.
“I’m glad for one thing,” you say during the conversation.
Renjun raises an eyebrow.
“That the Greek Gods don’t meddle in our lives.”
-
Sometimes, just sitting around in the castle got boring – no, a lot of times, just sitting around in the castle got boring. You didn’t have much of a say in the Royal Court and you didn’t have much of a say in royal decision-making either, so you decided a few years ago that there would be something that you would have control over.
Every weekend, you went into the cities of your Kingdom and practiced healing with the royal healer. A maximum of four people knew about this, and you wanted to keep it that way because if your family found out about this arrangement, they would serve your head on a platter. But so far, no one unnecessary knew about this. The royal healer, the cart driver, and your head maid were the only people who knew. It was your way to give back to the kingdom since so many were dying of diseases or were injured and lamed forever, and these tragedies could be avoided if there was a better spread of healthcare across the kingdom.
Your head maid has clothes prepared for you, a maid’s outfit that you go into town wearing. With how the people feel about the royal family now that the Resistance is trying to spread their message, it was better if your deeds went unsaid; you didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention to yourself, or else the people in your care could get hurt.
So here you are, sitting in a prepared cart filled with medicine, along with the royal healer. The hot late-summer sun burns your shoulders as you sit, but you’re glad you’re only wearing a maid’s outfit and not the eight different skirts you have to wear all day as a royal; wearing all that clothing in this heat is the definition of hell on Earth.
Maybe you’re being dramatic when you say that because when you see the capital city, Ciel, it certainly looks like hell on Earth. A little part of you is glad that you’re safely tucked away in your castle in the countryside because you’re not sure you could ever bear calling what is now Ciel, home. Sick people decorate the well-trodden streets, orphaned children scour waste for food, wails of anguish fill the air as people cry over the dead, and the stench – oh, the stench! How pungent and repelling it is, you almost want to gag. Thankfully, you have a flower from the royal gardens tied to your wrist, and you harshly press the flower against your nose, breathing in the fresh scent.
But the saddest thing on the street is the people who are wholly unaffected by all the events happening. They are residents no doubt, with tattered, stained breeches that have probably never seen a wash, but the resigned look on their faces is what breaks your heart into a thousand more pieces. They accept that this is how life is going to be. These people are usually able to hide among the crowds of people, but to you they stick out like a sore thumb.
Speaking of people, there seems to be less than there was last week. Everything seems a tad quieter, and people don’t seem to be sporting angry, belligerent looks on their faces against the royals, just the resigned, sick, and anguished seem left.
But this doesn’t stop you from setting up shop. With the royal healer Doyoung, you both find an abandoned building – a building that you have kept under a different name using some royal funds you’re able to get out of your father’s hands – and set up medicines, table cloths, bandages, and other tools needed to properly heal the masses. After seeing your appearances, people start coming in. It was an unspoken thing with the people of Ciel, the most poverty-stricken people in your kingdom, living in shanty towns because the capital is where all the work is. It spread around to others that a healer and his assistant would come every week to try to relieve them. They didn’t know anything about the healer or the assistant, or why they only came once a week (many people have requested that you and Doyoung make your presence known more often), but you would simply sigh and shrug your shoulders, that you could only ever manage once a week. In your heart, you knew that your family wouldn’t notice you gone for at least six hours in a day, but if you tried six hours in two days, that’s asking for problems. Although, you never say that.
However, you and Doyoung have trained others in town who want to heal some basic hygiene and herbs that can be found around Ciel, such as poppy seeds for sleeping and ginseng for preventing inflammation of wounds (but sometimes a cure-all for desperate people). However, due to how populated Ciel is, it’s hard to find even find these plants since medicinal plants need care to grow. They aren’t like dandelions that can grow among the trash and ruin. Which is why you and Doyoung bring a decent stock of other plants from the royal medical gardens and teach others how to store them. But even still, basic training and plant stocks are not enough to keep people alive, and many times, you need a trained medical opinion or experience.
As some patients take rest on the blankets that are scattered in this makeshift hospital, other helpers (practically employees) come in as well.
The first to come is the brother-sister pair, Soobong and Sooyoung. They were always the most punctual, and they live for healing and helping others – with enough medical training, they were good enough to work at the castle.
“Good, you’re here,” Doyoung says brusquely. “More and more people are coming. Sooyoung, ask patients what their ailments are, and Soobong and Y/N, help me unload the stock.” Doyoung commands confidently.
Kim Doyoung had been at this for a long time, as you notice through his weathered, experienced face. He’s been doing this before you knew about it, and when you caught him, you told him that you would join him or you would tell the King, and he gladly took the former option. Doyoung himself grew up on the streets of Ciel, orphaned, but he met a man who helped him learn the art of healing, and he became a revered healer in Ciel before going to the castle. As much as he loved being generous, most of the people who came to him had no money but were only able to exchange favors. He gladly accepted favors – fresh honey, a wonderful story, a beautiful flower, but he also liked recieving a salary.
Still, it doesn’t seem like the streets of Ciel were angry with him for wanting to get paid for his skill; they were only thankful that he was generous enough to continue sharing it with them after all these years.
As Sooyoung socializes with the patients, she is courteous as she asks about their ailments. She can take fifty people’s troubles and tell you every single one – she just has that sort of memory. She would write down all the conditions if she knew how to read or write; only now have you taught her how to count, so that she can refer to each patient as ‘patient at blanket number x’ so it is a more efficient way of describing them.
You and Soobong along with Doyoung are going out to the cart and bringing in jars and wrapped packages of medicinal herbs, from marigold to milk thistle to goldenseal.
When the last of this week’s stock is brought in, Sooyoung approaches you and tells you what conditions people have today.
“The man at blanket thirty is suffering from diarrhea and his wife is very worried about him,” she reports, ending her interactions with all the patients. All of these conditions you’re too familiar with after years of healing. Diarrhea from eating contaminated meat. Cholera from drinking contaminated water. Itchy skin due to a poor personal hygiene regiment. Infection after a metal bucket scraped skin. Sleeplessness after the violent death of a loved one. All of these conditions, you were able to easily escape due to your high status. And you were the one with the best healthcare in the Kingdom after you rarely did anything. When was the last time you picked up a bucket? Or had itchy skin? You live such a good life that half the time, you didn’t need a healer.
But these people do. And they don’t have a healer.
You, Soobong, and Doyoung crush some marigold leaves for the man with the infection, valerian for the sleepless woman and others, handing the paste to Sooyoung who would administer the herbs to the patients. Thankfully, as more and more sick people came in, more and more help was arriving, including Na Jaemin.
He and a few others were bringing injured-looking people. You rushed to their sides, helping them out after abandoning the leaves you were crushing. Before Soobong could do anything, Doyoung ordered him to stay and that you and Jaemin were taking care of whatever needed taking care of.
“What happened?” You gasped, carrying the people to empty blankets. Jaemin follows you, carrying a heavy-looking older man.
“T-There was a riot,” Jaemin says breathlessly.
“A riot?” You echo dumbly. Jaemin nods.
“The Carcel,” he says as if he explained the whole story. At your confusion, though, he continues.
“There was a storming. Weapons were stolen, and the place was trashed before it started burning.” Your blood runs cold.
The Carcel has served as a fortress, armory, and political prison for as long as you can remember. Erected by your great-great-grandfather to protect the castle – the old castle that your family used to reside in before picking a different, more luxurious location in the countryside that gave plenty of room to expand; that castle burned in an earlier, angry riot. Now it looked eerie in the capital, and it was moderately reconstructed as an armory and a prison for prisoners that your father decided not to kill on the spot before his killing spree started.
Knowing this information, Ambrosia was teetering closer and closer to ruin. You gulp. You thought that if your father gave more freedoms to the people and modernized, there would be a higher chance that you would still be in power for generations to come, or at least… your lives. Now, that hope is all gone. People are angry, and they won’t stop until the Royal Family is gone for good. You know what that means. The people won’t rest until your heads are hacked off by the Dragon’s Fang.
“A-And these are,” you take a deep breath. “Insurrectionists?” You ask. No matter how much sympathy you had to the people of Ambrosia who have been wronged by the royal family, you still feel a chill crawl down your spine
You wonder how Soobong, Sooyoung, and Jaemin would react if they knew your true identity – or anyone in this room except Doyoung knew.
“Not all of them. Some of them were just caught in the crossfire.”
“What were you doing there?” You ask accusingly. You bite your lip in shame, hating how transparent you seem. Jaemin looks at you with a brow raised. For all he knew, you were just Y/N, a maid to a nobleman who knew Doyoung as a child on the streets of Ciel.
Immediately, you clear your throat. “It could have been dangerous. Are you hurt anywhere?” You ask with concern, taking his bare forearms in your hand to inspect. You furrow your brows at a fresh-looking mark, but it’s just a smudge of red dirt.
Jaemin smiles. “No. Clean as I’ll ever be.” He chuckled in a hearty way that put all your worries at rest. He continues. “And I was there because my cousin was there. I didn’t want him doing anything stupid, but he wouldn’t listen to me, so I went to watch him.” His expression hardens. “Where his stupidity took him,” he grunts, pointing to another boy carrying a younger boy, maybe fifteen years old, to a bed, with bleeding on his arms and his leg twisted.
“Jaemin!” A voice shouts. You and Jaemin whip your heads to see Doyoung, still crushing leaves into paste and squeezing the juice out of roots. “I need some help over here. Y/N, work with Sooyoung to get the ailments of the newcomers.”
“Yes, Doyoung,” you say and shuffle away. To Doyoung’s perceptive eye, he could see slight cuts on your fingers from all the crushing, and he couldn’t possibly return you home like that. So, he gave you a less taxing job. It was a shame though – you were one of his most skilled apprentices.
Sooyoung takes care of half of the newcomers while you take care of the other half. As you ask them what is ailing them and inspect their injuries, you can already see yourself writing a mental list of needed herbs: marigold, garlic, echinacea, aloe vera, poppy seeds. All of these were anti-inflammatory plants with poppy seeds bringing patients to sleep to help cure their wounds.
But there is a face, an unmistakable face attached to a body that is sitting on a blanket. Despite the contusions on his face and body, as well as his twisted leg at an odd angle, the boy sitting at blanket number thirty-seven is Huang Renjun, Prince of Neo.
As shock finds its way to settle into your face, so does suspicion. What was Huang Renjun doing in a rebellion against the King of Ambrosia?
Every part of your royal instincts tells you to tread carefully. If Huang Renjun is an enemy, then it’s best to keep that information to yourself so you can give yourself an advantage.
Before you can decide whether you should pretend you don’t know him or acknowledge his existence, Renjun speaks first.
“Y/N,” he says softly. You look around. Soobong, Jaemin, Sooyoung, and Doyoung all look preoccupied, and the others that you know are hurriedly applying salves to injured people or offering them edible medicine. You didn’t want to explain how you knew this stranger.
Renjun, like you, is dressed in a commoner’s clothes. He wears a casual set of commoner’s breeches and a faded, light-blue shirt. He has a brown hat next to him that smells oily and full of sweat, and his jet-black hair is disheveled, compared to when you met him. Renjun has been staying at the castle, and your father and his father are trying to strike a favorable deal when it comes to providing an army to quash the Resistance. During the past two days, from what you can hear behind the door, it is a long deal, with both men throwing numbers and getting others to write a contract of this agreement. Renjun has been sitting in the negotiations, to learn the art of negotiation, but you aren’t allowed to sit in. And when they aren’t negotiating, the three of them go hunting together, for your father to get to know the man that will marry his daughter and take over his kingdom. So, you haven’t seen the boy ever since you talked about Aeschylus and other Greek authors and myths together, only seeing him in passing at dinner, which you are almost always joined by the Huangs. Other invitees at dinner seem interested in this stranger, leaving almost no more time for you to know him.
At this moment, your chemistry is undeniable.
“What are you doing here?” You blurt out.
Renjun smiles in pain. “I’m injured obviously. But I could also ask the same for you.” He eyes you in your maid’s outfit.
“I mean, what were you doing at the Carcel?” You inquire. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You see him reach for something, and you tense up. Your instinct thought it was a knife, a plan to kill the Princess of Ambrosia since he is the only one in this crowded room who knows your true identity.
The object Renjun was reaching for was his dirty messenger bag, and he struggles to open the latch. You take the bag and look inside. Paints, and a smeared painting of roses. You’re not sure if it’s red paint or blood.
“I was painting at the Square.” He says simply. The town square is still a bustling place, in viewing distance to the Carcel, cobblestoned and filled with a rose garden that is sometimes known as the envy of the land, the only place in Ciel that doesn’t look hopeless thanks to various people in the area who consider those roses a part of Ciel’s character. It’s the only greenspace in the center of Ciel, minus a small wooded place two blocks away where helpers gather poppy seeds and milk thistle.
“I was painting roses since it was the only time I could get away from everything,” Renjun starts. “But then I heard people screaming and there were people with weapons and then a stampede ensued.” Renjun shivers thinking about what happened in the past thirty minutes, and at this movement, his twisted leg twitches and he bites his lower lip to contain a scream.
You’re about to scurry off and get something for the pain, but Renjun grips your wrist tightly, an uneasy smile on his face.
“You didn’t tell me what you’re doing here.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” you scoff.
“Enlighten me.”
You take a deep breath. “I’m here as a healer. I come every week with Doyoung.”
“And I can imagine that it’s not what you’re supposed to be doing?” Renjun asks, knowing what the obvious answer is.
You don’t answer him.
“Well, I was here doing what I wasn’t supposed to be doing.” He chuckles. “If my father found out I was painting, he would rip me in half.” Renjun wasn’t lying. The life of a royal was restricting, no matter if you were a man or a woman. For a man, hunting was seen as an appropriate, manly hobby, but painting isn’t.
“Apparently, painting is only for indecent people who ogle naked women and sleep with their muses.”
You almost want to gasp with how crass Renjun sounded. Renjun only laughs at your shocked expression before sucking in a breath due to his pain. With a wet cloth on a tray nearby, you dab the wounds on his arms, and Renjun’s face contorts at this gesture.
You hurry back to the shelves of herbs and grab some marigold paste and some thin, bandage cloths. Gently, you apply the salve on Renjun’s wounds and bandage them with a precision that you have been perfecting for a long time. Renjun only focuses on you as he tries to forget about the pain, admiring your expertise. It wasn’t every day that a royal knew a skill that didn’t include commanding others to do tasks for them.
Looking at his awkward leg, you make direct eye contact with Renjun.
“This is going to hurt a lot,” you say. Rushing to the counter at the front, you grab a stick and give it to Renjun. “Put this in your mouth,” you say in a commanding voice that Renjun doesn’t want to argue with.
Carefully, you hold the side of Renjun’s knee with one hand, and with the other hand, you yank his leg, locking it back into its correct place.
The twig in Renjun’s mouth snaps during the process.
“You were right,” Renjun says breathlessly.
“Say,” Renjun says after a while of watching you apply a salve of milk thistle on the cuts on his legs before bandaging them.
“I won’t tell your father that you were out here healing the poor, not once but weekly with Doyoung unless I get to paint you.” The request is shocking, and you look at Renjun, puzzled for a split second before you make an offer of your own, a smile on your face. If there’s anything a royal is good at, no matter a man or woman, it was negotiating.
“And I won’t tell your father that you were painting unless you come and help out with me here,” you counteroffer.
“An eye for an eye,” Renjun recalls, remembering how you passionately defended Queen Clytaenmestra for making King Agamemnon to pay for his life after leading his eldest daughter to her death. In this case, one favor each to keep you both doing what you loved doing.
“Yes. This knife cuts both ways,” At how solemn you both sound, you two look each other in the eye to seal the verbal contract that you have just created.
For once, your parents made a good match for you.
-
It’s another few days before you see Renjun again. It’s at dinner, but this time the air of tension, filled with encoded thoughts is gone, and both your father and the King of Neo look jubilant. That can only mean one thing: they both have reached a deal that they are both happy with. It’s surprising, given that at the end of such long deals, one side is unhappy in ‘giving in too much’ while the other believes that they have won a match.
Nonetheless, dinner is no less than fine. Renjun’s father sits at the end of one table with Renjun at a seat nearby, while your father is seated at the other end of the table, with your mother accompanying you. You sit in between your mother and Renjun, while on the other side, the King’s advisor is facing you directly. Joining you tonight are a couple of earls and marquis who your family has always been particularly close with, enough so to share such an important meal as tonight’s meal.
“We have some exciting news,” The King of Ambrosia says. You think everyone in the room already knows what the news is due to his expression, but that doesn’t stop him from sharing.
“King Huang and I have reached a suitable deal. They will provide a sum of armory and mercenaries to help us with our problems with rebels. Just in time after the incident at the Carcel. He has been so agreeable due to the arrangement that Princess Y/N and Prince Renjun have. Our grandchildren will be certainly powerful!” Your father cheers. You smile pleasantly and find Renjun’s face beside you, and he also stares at you with equal fondness. The others in the room are pleased that you two have gotten on well. Although they only know of one meeting between you two, no complaints have been made by either of you against the other. For the two of you, suitors are a touchy subject, and you both have a hard time getting along with others that you are arranged to marry, but this time, it seems like two kindred souls have met.
Your father’s prayers have been answered; Ambrosia won’t fall to ruin after his overspending. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from having lavish, excessive meals every night while the people of his kingdom are starving.
King Huang starts speaking. “The King and I have started talking about something to celebrate the upcoming marriage. We have discussed a tourney in Princess Y/N and Prince Renjun’s honor.”
Your mother claps gleefully, and the King’s advisor looks thoughtful. He hoped that Neo’s resources were in plenty, so he wouldn’t have to impose more taxes.
Your mother looks at you pointedly for you to make a response, but Renjun speaks first. “On behalf of myself and my betrothed, I thank you both for your generosity.” His voice is crisp, sincere yet formal. He looks at you with a smile. “I’m sure that we both are going to enjoy it.” You both know that if there’s anything that you’d enjoy, it would be a room full of books and paints.
The servants arrive with plates and plates of food, freshly and expertly cooked by the castle chef. You eat the creamed lobster, poached eggs, meat-stuffed bread, carrot purees, chocolate souffles, and wash it all down with red wine. The table is filled with content eating sounds, the clacking of forks against ornately designed china.
As the last plate is collected by a kitchen maid, music fills the nearby ballroom.
“A night like tonight should be celebrated with music!” Your father announces. The dinner party follows him and the King of Neo to the ballroom, where there is a live orchestra filled with the best musicians in Ambrosia. They play waltzing music, so the earls and dukes start dancing with their wives, and their children find people to dance with.
“May I have this dance?” Renjun is on one knee, his hand held out as he waits for you to accept his invitation. You scoff a little at how ‘noble’ he is acting, compared to the boy painting in secret and stating that he hated meeting suitors.
“Of course, my betrothed,” you say smoothly, taking the boy’s soft hand. He stands upright, and you look almost eye-level with him. He gingerly puts a hand to your waist and the other clasps your hand as he dances with you. You think that you probably learned to Walz around the same time you learned to walk, and the steps feel familiar as you follow the compound beat.
“One, two, three, one two three,” Renjun murmurs to himself. If you hadn’t been listening carefully enough, you wouldn’t have heard him count to himself. You only did so when you were a beginner of the walz, counting to make sure that your steps were correctly timed as your dance instructor danced with you.
You can’t help a giggle bubble up your throat.
“What’s that?” Renjun asks.
“What’s what?” You reply, feigning ignorance.
“I know you heard me.” Renjun confronts you.
“I’ve never heard anyone our age counting during the Walz.”
“What’s wrong with counting? I like to be precise.” Renjun challenges in that playful way that you can’t get enough of. You exhale.
“Only children count when they Walz.”
“Can I make a confession?” Renjun asks. His voice is quiet, and his lips are close to your ear, his breath hot and smelling of spices. At this moment, he looks absolutely ravishing.
He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “I only learned to Walz last week. Your mother taught me. She thought it was improper that I didn’t know how to dance with a lady.” That did sound like your mother. You take a second to see her dancing with your father in a perfect Walz, from years of hosting and attending events that are similar to this one.
You sigh, bringing your body closer to his and correcting any of his missteps. You loved the way that his body deliciously brushed against yours, and the way that his hand moved down your back, not entirely gentlemanly. You keep your voice quiet, closing some space between your faces. “She knows I don’t care about that.”
“Does she?” Renjun questions. You don’t answer. The royal breed wasn’t exactly the best listeners. There were a lot of ideas that your parents liked to push into your head, such that a woman should be the type devoted to her husband and her life’s work is creating an heir to the throne. And there is one thing for sure: women were supposed to be pure. They didn’t have sexual urges, they were subject to the will of their husbands.
You’re not going to pretend that thoughts wouldn’t enter your brain as Renjun’s length brushes your leg…
You and Renjun keep dancing for a few more minutes, but neither of you is really feeling the mood anymore. It’s always a surprise how the upper class can keep dancing and dancing and dancing.
“Does this dance ever end?” Renjun groans. No one seems to hear him, trapped in their own worlds.
“It does now,” you say. You stop dancing and gently yank Renjun’s arm. Without an eye on either of you, the dull Walz music becomes a distant memory as you both walk into the dark castle corridors. There are a few guards here and there, but you and Renjun walk up the stairs and stop midway through the staircase, on the flat piece of floor that proceeds another swivel staircase. A large window is on the wall, and you can see the moon, a small crescent.
There’s something so romantic about the dark, something that makes you want to unleash your inner feelings. Huang Renjun is thinking the same thing.
You can barely see each other’s faces as your lips meld into his. Renjun was different, and you wanted him, you think as you taste his lips from every possible angle, his nose bumping into yours. His hands feel intoxicating as his hands find your waist, his grip deceptively tight as if he never wanted to let go of a woman like you.
At the sound of echoing footsteps, you and Renjun jump away from each other and search for the source of the footsteps. It’s a few guards, and they make brief eye contact with you and then with Renjun.
You press a quick kiss on Renjun’s lips. It was the perfect time to stop. You haven’t given up your chastity just yet, your dress was still on! Now you would leave him wanting more. It was the strategy your mother gave you when you were meeting suitors, but you can find other ways to keep that statement relevant in your life.
“Until later, my sweet,” you lean in, murmuring those sultry words against his lips. You leave him standing by the large window as you find your way back to your chambers on the other side of the castle, becoming a smaller and smaller shadow in Renjun’s vision.
-
The next time you would visit the streets of Ciel is sooner than you think, for this week has gone by rather quickly. As per your agreement with Renjun, he would help you out in the makeshift apothecary with Doyoung if you kept his secret that he paints in his spare time. This week, the apothecary is not less active than it was last week since the spread of disease is rampant in these areas, so you’re glad that you’re able to bring some forced labor with you.
Renjun is also dressed in servants’ uniforms, getting it from your lady’s maid, who covertly got this from the washerwoman. However, before you got out of the cart bringing you, Renjun, and Doyoung into the city, you still felt like he had a ‘noble’ look to him. Finding some dirt on the ground, you take a handful and rub it on Renjun’s cheek.
“There,” you say, admiring your handiwork. “You look more like Y/N the maid’s friend.” Renjun just laughs a hearty, carefree laugh.
The story behind Renjun was easy to fabricate when you were explaining his presence to Soobong, Sooyoung, and Jaemin. He also worked at the same nobleman’s house that you did but as a server, and he wanted to find out what you were hiding when you disappeared one afternoon every week. You made him swear that he would never tell since you were supposed to be working, and after he promised he wouldn’t tell, you brought him here. Sooyoung looked a little suspicious after you told your story, and you felt like your heart was beating in your throat as you waited for her to say or do anything, that maybe she recognized him from the last week after the storming of the Carcel, but she doesn’t say anything. You were more than relieved.
She probably didn’t care anyway, given that your group needed more help than you could imagine. More healing apprentices showed up, mixing salves and administering medicines, but most of Ciel has been under strict curfew. After the storming, your father demanded that there be soldiers on the streets, prowling for any rebels, courtesy of the deal made with the King of Neo.
They were given the right to shoot if they even looked dissatisfied with how the people were behaving.
Although you were (somewhat) safely tucked inside the abandoned building that you have been paying to keep as a hospital for the sick of Ciel, you can still feel the tension outside, as if they are waves licking at the windows. People walk stiffly, their eyes darting before they say something, trash litters the ground, hastily-built huts and pieces of wood serve as many peoples’ homes as they inhabit the slums for their work.
Of course, only when there is dissent are the royals actually thinking of the people of Ciel.
Soldiers stand outside, backs straight, yet some squirm in their thick uniforms under the bright, hot sun. It’s not like they can do anything to an apothecary, so they stand, looking around. The thought of being watched makes you feel almost breathless, and you just hope you don’t look like royalty enough for them to notice. As your heart beats a little faster, you tightly wrap a bonnet you found around your head, focusing your vision only on the sick.
You show Renjun to the table where Doyoung is, and show him how to crush leaves and efficiently save all the healing juice, how to wrap a bandage, how to clean a wound, where to get some water to soak cloths, and where the stores of poppy seeds, milk thistle, and other anti-inflammatory herbs are. Those, you think, are the most important training to learn first.
Renjun watches as you talk to Sooyoung, the girl who chats with new arrivals and diagnoses their conditions. Then you grab herbs, bandages, and wet cloths and work around the room with the help of Jaemin, who is now administering medicine since Renjun is supposed to be crushing leaves and filling the water bucket.
If you haven’t noticed, life was getting harder at Ciel. Just as you were curing more sick people, more and more people were coming in, needing treatment. Not to mention that not everyone survives treatment; every week, you’re surrounded by death. On top of that, with the current instability in Ciel, Renjun was surprised that you were dead-set on coming with Doyoung because it wasn’t really your job to care. Sure, it wasn’t really Doyoung’s job to care either, but since he grew up in Ciel as an orphan, he always would feel the need to give back to his hometown. But you? You were the child of two royals, who had everything you could ever possibly need in the castle. But that wasn’t enough for you. You had to know that your subjects were okay, and if they weren’t, you wanted to do your part and help even if you have no say in most royal affairs.
Every day, he has more and more reasons to fall in love with you.
For a while, Renjun admires your work from afar, but he continues to work himself; just being surrounded by such productive people makes him want to be productive as well.
Finally, he’s able to get a moment alone with you.
“Why do you even care?” Renjun asks. You both are in a back room alone as you lead him to the borage supply to help cure a family’s fit of coughs.
“Why shouldn’t I?” You challenge. Renjun voices what he has been thinking while he observed you working yourself to the bone.
“Because you have everything you need in this life and in the next. What is a reason for doing this other than you’re probably the kindest person I’ve ever met in my whole life?”
You smile. “You know how our families were picked by God to rule? To conquer?”
“Of course.”
“There’s got to be a reason, right?” You question. “To give us such a high position in power over so many people.”
“He must have seen potential in our families. We need to live up to that.” You say simply.
“Have you ever told anyone your opinion?” Renjun asks quietly.
You snort a little before looking at your feet. “Once. To my father.” You turn your head to face Renjun, the smile widening on your face. “That was probably the hardest slap I’ve ever received.”
Renjun closes the space between you, and his face is so close that your noses are brushing. “Probably not as hard as the whipping I got after getting out of our palanquin to give a homeless man a few crackers in my pocket.”
“I guess we’re two soft-hearted people.” You giggle, finally closing the pesky gap between your lips. You pull away, letting your finger trace his lips. Renjun’s nostrils twitch at this feeling.
“We’re going to be different rulers when we get the throne, right?” You ask as you study his soft, pink lips that look deliciously kissable.
“Of course,” Renjun says after a long pause. “If there was a way to tell the people to wait for a little while longer…” Renjun trails off as he presses his forehead against yours. Immediately, he feels the dampness of your skin, how you’re sweating in this hot building, but he doesn’t care.
Renjun thinks he loves you now at this moment more than he ever thought he would even though your appearance is less than exemplary. But because it’s imperfect, it makes you feel more real.
“We’re going to give people more freedoms, like in other countries. We’ll share our resources better. And we can build schools to educate people and help them learn how to make the right decisions,” Renjun says. The word ‘we’ echoes in your brain. For the rest of your lives, Huang Renjun would be on your team, and together you would try to undo the oppression that your families have facilitated through generations.
“Would you rather be loved or be feared?” You ask Renjun as you absorb the warmth of his chest. It’s a pleasant sort of heat, not the heat that prikles your skin.
“I hate that question.” Renjun chuckles.
“Just answer it,” you pout.
“Fine.” Renjun sighs. “Feared.” You raise an eyebrow curiously.
“Why?”
“I only want to show love for my people. But I want my people to fear what will happen if they take advantage of me.”
“Interesting take,” you say softly. “You already know my answer. Love. I want to be loved by my people, no matter what.”
Renjun takes your cheeks into his hands as he stares into your beautiful eyes.
“Just be careful, my darling,” Renjun says. “You’re so trusting, too trusting for a royal.”
“Isn’t that what you love about me? That I’m different?” You ask playfully, poking his chest with your index finger.
Renjun doesn’t answer, only placing a kiss on your warm cheeks
You take Renjun’s hands and wrap them around your body so you can be held in his embrace. The future together seemed so sweet, but now, you need to focus on the present.
“Right, the borage,” you say, pulling away reluctantly.
-
If there was anything that your royal parents would disapprove of, it’s letting a man into a young maid’s bedroom, especially if she is unmarried.
But you’re not for one with the status quo, and as per the deal, you were going to let Renjun paint you. The only place that wasn’t crawling with servants and event planners trying to organize the tourney celebrating your’s and Renjun’s upcoming wedding that would be held on the royal grounds was your bedroom.
If there was anything you yourself would disapprove of is not keeping your word.
You’re sitting on the ottoman by the window of your bedroom, one leg over the other and your hands knit over your knee as you pose for Renjun’s painting. You’re wearing a long turquoise dress, one that doesn’t have a million underskirts. Renjun wanted you to wear a dress that was so undeniably you, and this turquoise gem was it. The soft blues complimented your pacifist nature, and it was incredibly simple too. It is one of those dresses where the top is laced up, creating a ‘v’ on your chest, and underneath, to keep you modest is a white under-dress. The sleeves are conical and long, which is one of your favorite styles. Your parents didn’t like this dress after you requested the seamstress to make it because it looked like something a working-class girl would wear, which after that, was the reason why you weren’t allowed to request dresses anymore and your mother would do that. You were only available at the dress fittings, which bored you beyond end.
It was just another way for your mother to silence you.
After some ten minutes of Renjun painting, you had a hard time remaining still, and that was when Renjun asked you to focus on something. You thoroughly focused your gaze on him, at his furrowed eyebrows at how he paints, dipping his brush in water, mixing new paints on his wooden palette. It’s as if the rest of the world is drowned out as he paints, and he exists only with you, his canvas, and his brushes. The way his eyes would drink in your appearance to replicate on the canvas made your heart rise to your throat; not so hidden in his eyes is his lust.
Renjun stops for a few moments. His fingers are at his chin as he looks pensive, looking between the canvas and you. His eyes are glazed, and his lips are pursed when he suddenly says something in a raw voice.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Excuse me?” You shoot back, stunned.
“You heard me.”
You’re not sure what’s happening in your chest, if your heart completely stopped beating or it’s beating so fast that you can’t even tell its keeping you alive.
You’re finally able to regain your composure when you say back wittily, “I guess you’re turning into the kind of painter that ogles naked women and sleeps with their muses.”
“I guess so,” Renjun smirks.
Your simple dress slips off your shoulders and falls to the ground when you unclasp the hook resting at the nape of your neck, and the following hooks that went down to your mid back. You’re left in your underdress, and your corset is beneath that.
“Beautiful,” Renjun murmurs. At the way you stop, reveling in his attention, Renjun chuckles. “Now take it off. All of it.” Renjun says. He watches how you untie your white underdress that is fastened by a thin bow on your waist, and he watches how the string comes undone, and the dress comes to your feet. You untie your corset in the same way and discard it carelessly to the side.
“I never liked that thing anyway.”
Renjun’s eyes travel down your body, to the way your waist is curved, beautiful with an hourglass shape and a cute paunch. He watches how the nubs of your breasts become hard at the way they are exposed too long, and to a man for the first time.
You sit back down on the ottoman. You think about re-creating the pose you were doing but think against it. As a caterpillar comes out of its cocoon to become a butterfly, you shed your cocoon of clothes and become this butterfly.
And you love how your nakedness weakens the man in front of you.
You reposition yourself on the ottoman, the expression on your face playful and carefree as you let your breasts hang on your chest shamelessly, plaching your arm between your narrowly-open legs to cover your womanhood. At the way your shoulder hunches, you create a cleavage on your chest.
It’s as if you’re Medusa, turning him into stone as he not-so-secretly ogles, the strokes of his brush against the canvas more sparse.
All of a sudden, you leap from the ottoman and saunter to Renjun, who stares up at you from his sitting position.
“You know you’re supposed to stand when you’re in the presence of royalty. That’s basic manners.” With a coy smile on your face, you swat his shoulder, your breasts jiggling and almost hitting his face.
“Y-yes Your Highness,” Renjun says, bashfully looking away. He stumbles as he stands, and you can see even through his thick breeches a large erection. You can’t stop yourself from giggling as you grab him. Your bed is barely a meter away from where Renjun is, and you grab his shoulders and push him backwards, forcing him under you on the bed.
You have both of his wrists in his hand as you animalistically kiss him, your womanhood searching for his manhood underneath his clothes. You can feel his rough stubble from his cheeks after maybe two days of not shaving, and it feels delicious, that you’re being touched, fucked by a real man. Renjun passionately enjoys your kiss, biting and sucking your lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues war inside your mouth, sliding against each other in a slobbery way that is normally disgusting, but beautiful if it is done with the right person. You gasp as his tongue reaches further and further down your mouth, almost entering your throat. Your second of shock allows Renjun’s wrists to slip from your grip, and he places them on your naked side, squeezing the softer part of your body, his hands slowly climbing up and down your back until finally, he gives your rump a delicious squeeze. Panting, you finally find his hard dick under his clothes, and you hump him as hard as you can, moving your hips along Renjun’s body, shaking your bed.
“Slower, Your Highness. You don’t want to break the bed,” Renjun chuckles.
Renjun audibly moans at how you’re riding him, but slowly, the pleasure comes to an end. Renjun opens his eyes (that he didn’t realize was closed) to see you slide off of the bed, reaching from the side to pull off his breeches.
“You’re reading my mind,” he says. You’re able to pull his thick breeches and pull up his tucked-in shirt to find his cock hidden in his underclothes. You pull it down to Renjun’s mid-thigh, watching with excitement as his cock springs out, large and erected at how much your humping aroused him. You reach out and excite his member some more, moving the delicate skin up and down, squeezing his hard length.
Leaning forward, you decide that it is time to suck, and you wrap your lips around his cock. You move your head up and down his length, your lips following, shielding your teeth from coming in contact with his sensitive skin. Your tongue swirls around his member, creating obscure saliva designs, and you can hear Renjun above you, turning into puddy by the minute as you pleasure him.
Your mouth starts to fill with seed suddenly, and you gulp it down, tasting the sweet cherry pie that was for desert tonight in his cum. You close your eyes blissfully, and you don’t even realize that Renjun is sitting up. With a strength you didn’t even know he possessed, he pulls you up to his side, and he climbs on top of you.
He’s ready to take charge.
Renjun takes your lips into his mouth as he freely moves his hands on you as if he’s never going to touch you again. He hands travel from your cheeks to your jawbone, moving down to your collarbone and then your nice, plush breasts. He spends a few moments there, letting his hands massage the soft flesh, and you can feel moans leave your mouth. After a few moments, he focuses on your nipples, pinching them until you yelp. Then, his hands travel down your body, to your slightly paunchy stomach and your curvy sides. His hands wander to your throbbing womanhood, and his lips wander to the side of your neck.
You’re overcome with more pleasure than you think is possible.
“You’re so beautiful, like art.” Renjun murmurs as he pulls away from your neck, starting lovingly at your ruffled hair, at your smooth skin, at your bruising breasts and neck that will surely yield black and purple marks from tonight’s activities.
You smirk at him. “Then you should be looking, not touching.”
Renjun’s eyes glow at how you use your wit, how mischievous, how playful yet serious you can be. He’s lucky to consider a woman like you his betrothed.
“You’re the exception.”
Once those words slice the air, you feel Renjun’s fingers force themselves inside of you. About to scream, Renjun takes his other hand and places it over your mouth.
“You don’t want the world to hear how good you’re getting fucked, hmm?” Renjun asks in a soft voice. Your screams remain trapped between your lips and his palm as Renjun forces one, two, four fingers into your womanhood. Your legs are flailing, but Renjun’s position on top of you keeps him steady on your body.
Everything that comes out of your mouth is just a jumble, but you can hear yourself whimper and moan while saying “please.”
“You’re so well-mannered, Your Highness,” Renjun coos. “Oh, look,” Renjun notices. “Something came,”
You don’t realize the white-ish, clear-ish liquid that came out from how fucked you were getting until you look down.
As Renjun leans down for a taste, you suddenly close your legs. Renjun’s hands travel to your upper thighs, his knees on the ground since he hopped out of the bed.
“Please please let me taste it, Your Highness,” Renjun begs from underneath you. His eyes become larger, rounder, and you realize that the power has shifted to you. For you and for Renjun, you realize that you both don’t fully take control of the bed, but it comes in waves. As Renjun becomes more submissive, you can feel yourself inflate, becoming more dominant.
“Beg some more,” you command.
“Please please please,” Renjun says in a string, the word jumbling more and more as he repeats his desire. He nestles his chin between your thighs and looks up at you with wide, innocent-looking eyes.
It was these same eyes that watch you flail around as he inserted digit after digit of his right hand into your vagina. He’s a lion in sheep’s clothing, and you can already feel the little sheep start to suck the skin of your inner thighs, pressing loud smooches. You watch him graze your legs, his nose becoming covered with a dollop of his own saliva as he uses his mouth to convince you.
You don’t realize that you’re opening your legs to fully enjoy the pleasure that Renjun is giving you when you feel his head between your thighs, licking your vagina.
“Mmmhm” Renjun rumbles to himself, enjoying your sex. You can feel loud moans catch in your throat at how skillful his tongue, how sinful this pleasure feels. Renjun moves up your body, to your lower stomach, trailing your skin with your own cum until he finally meets your jawline. He presses more than ten loud smooches to that small piece of your body before surrendering his lips to yours, his mouth tasting like the cherry pie that you ate also that was present in your cum.
Renjun’s hands still linger by your pussy, taking your cum in his hands. You feel slightly ticklish at what he is tracing along your stomach, and you look down, only to see his name written on your skin in your cum.
“Mine,” Renjun says possessively, quickly taking your lips into his mouth. You bring Renjun closer to you, crushing him against your body because you want to become one so badly. You tangle your legs with Renjun’s, feeling his bare, naked member rub against your clit. Renjun decides to drive you crazy, rather than relieving you and your throbbing walls with his large dick, he decides to keep rubbing himself against you.
“Please, please go in, Your Highness,” you address your betrothed, properly. “I need you I need you,” you mumble to yourself.
“Have you got enough room for a future king?” Renjun asks coyly.
“Yes, Your Highness. King Renjun,” you reassure him.
With that, Renjun pounds his length into you, in and out, in and out repeatedly until you start feeling your head spin with delicious pleasure.
Yet at the same time, you feel adrenaline coursing through your veins. You feel like you could lift a mountain with how much energy Renjun’s dick puts inside of you. Renjun shakes a little, roaming his body along yours so that his penis could explore inside of your walls. You gasp at how good that feels, how your walls squeeze his member, craving for his seed that dried up after you gulped it down like a hungry child.
As your mind wanders, the whole world turning into background noise as Renjun’s dick pounds into you, you whimper at the pain, how Renjun is tearing at your hymen. Yet, you still feel pleasured at the sensation, satisfying Renjun’s manly needs, and your needs for new experiences.
You look down at your stomach, and maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear you see the outline of Renjun’s penis in your stomach as it roams around. You gasp and whine at how good the feeling is, how rough Renjun’s hands are while he grips your sides, and Renjun pulls out, his member dripping with his seed, arousal that coursed in him due to being inside of you. He pounds his length into you more and more as he looks into your eyes.
You feel as though you could be trapped in this moment forever, of just you and Renjun panting to a rhythm that only you two know, completely naked as Renjun puts a little more of himself in you, making you both into one person. You think that all your problems being a royal, the daughter of your father, the impending stress of taking your kingdom and enforcing a newer, freer, more modern rule that hasn’t been seen or heard before. Certainly your royal advisors would be against it, only interested in perpetuating the old ways.
Those problems feel elevated knowing that Renjun is by your side. Fucking your brains out every night.
Renjun heaves a breath as he finally pulls out of you completly for a second time, lying down next to you. His member is still seeping with cum, and with a mischevious glance, you climb on top of him, your nipples barely touching his chest with how you’re positioned on top of him. You grab his penis, pleasuring it for a little bit before squeezing out more cum from your betrothed. He moans at your touching, and you can feel him shifting his position so he can enjoy you on top of him more. Pulling yourself away slightly, you trace your name onto his skin.
“Mine,” you say with a cheeky grin, admiring your handiwork under the moonlight that filtered into your bedroom.
All of the animalistic urges are gone from you two, and you both are panting heavily at the activity of the last hour, staring into each others’ eyes, shocked that you both were capable of such passion. You bring your face a few centimeters away his chest and kiss his heart. Renjun coos at you, gently placing his lips on your jaw. He trails soft kisses along your collarbone until he kissing the soft flesh of your breasts. He sucks on the nubs of your breasts, this time he is the infant, and he places his head between your breasts.
“I suppose we were overenthusiastic about our jobs, and made a male heir too quickly,” Renjun murmurs between the mounds called your breasts. Your laugh only causes them to jiggle, causing Renjun to laugh too.
“We’ll find out if we were successful if I skip my period.”
“The birth date would certainly raise some eyebrows among the Royal Court,” Renjun chuckles.
“It would, but then I would remind them that their wives are waiting for them at home, waiting for them to finish their work in the castle and nothing else,” you have a cutely evil look on your face, and Renjun picks up what you try to hint.
There’s silence between you and Renjun. He pulls his face away from your breasts, and your faces are so close, you can feel the shadow of his nose on yours.
“I love you,” Renjun says quietly. “From our first conversation in the library, I’ve known you’re the one.” Renjun waits in anticipation for your answer. You trace the outline of his face with your index finger.
“I love you too. I’m glad that if I’m allied with anyone in this cold world, it’s you.”
Renjun sighs, and your faces slide against each other. Completely naked under the romantic silver moonlight that pools on your’s and Renjun’s flesh, you act as though cuddling with your beloved like this is the most normal thing in the world.
“I’ll never let you down.”
-
The day of the tourney has arrived. Your father and Renjun’s have spent the greater part of two months preparing for this tourney, providing your mother the funds to put it together. If there’s anything a royal woman loved is party planning, and a tourney is just in your mother’s wheelhouse.
All of your noble friends have been invited, dukes and earls, barons and other landlords that your family is on good terms with. They are said to bring their families, that this was one grand party.
You’re seated with your mother and father, and Renjun is by your side. The King of Neo would be arriving late today, discussing some terms of the agreement he and your father came up with to his weapons suppliers, and he would be joining you later.
Together, your family and Renjun are watching a fencing match between two men, but the stakes are raised higher in this match: the two competitors must fence on horses. Until one man is unhorsed, the match will continue.
You never understood the point of watching two men fight on horses, but it is something you’ve gotten used to attending hundreds of matches with your family. What was the point in all this when the kingdom needs help?
Sighing, you keep your thoughts to yourself. Renjun is sitting beside you with equal boredom, and you can tell that he probably has the same opinion as you. However, neither of you suggested leaving for some alone time because after all, this whole event was held in your name. Together, you would imitate the cheers of the other dukes and earls sitting with you, agreeing when they would talk about fencing strategy.
The man in a dark horse and slim, fitting steel armor is Jung Jaehyun, a knight that was trained in Ambrosia. His father was a lower baron, but his status increased the second that his son was accepted into the King’s Guard when you were just a little girl. With his helmet and his clean strokes to his opponent, you’re reminded of the girlish crush you had on him as he ingratiated himself with your father. However, he married the daughter of an earl and had a daughter that was a few years younger than you.
Normally, a man can be unhorsed by Jung Jaehyun in the matter of minutes, but his opponent is not giving up. The other man is someone you do not recognize after your years of attending tourneys and matches. He must be some new talent if he is able to be on the roster for the tourney and face of Jaehyun for this long.
From the others around you, this man’s name is Qian Kun, and he’s from a different kingdom (those around you are throwing around more names than you can keep up with). He’s on a white horse, wearing minimal armour and determination on his face. His name is whispered as if he’s a forbidden secret. If one thing’s for sure, he’s keeping the audience interested – even you and Renjun are focused.
Every thrust that Jaehyun throws, this Kun is able to block it, moving his body with a flexibility that you know for sure Jaehyun has. Jaehyun has brute force, from what you learned watching him, and he’s able to break down his opponents by being relentless. Most don’t have the skill to dodge.
After multiple dodges and audience gasps, Kun starts attacking in his own right. You think that Jaehyun took the phrase ‘the best defense is offense’ too seriously because he struggles to dodge Kun’s shots. He’s so used to being on the attack that he doesn’t know how to defend himself properly. Being a big fish in Ambrosia make his skill in taking a strong opponent weak.
It doesn’t take long for Kun to unhorse Jaehyun, and Jaehyun falls unceremoniously to the ground. The umpire calls it a match and races towards Kun, pulling his hand up in the air to signify to the audience that he really won. The audience is in shock before a few people start clapping, and then the rest. Kun gets a standing ovation from you and Renjun, and the others in the tourney follow in suit.
The winners of matches get to enjoy the fruits of their rigorous training. There’s a cash prize, and for a boy like Kun, who wears homemade-looking armour and has a tan on his face and neck from rough outdoor work, the cash prize is something that can alleviate his and his family’s pain.
Finally, you see Renjun’s father, the King of Neo, appear after all the hoopla that Qian Kun’s victory was for this torney. Another match would be taking place between two different knights or other sportsmen.
“What a match you missed!” Your father says to Renjun’s in a light tone.
There’s something different in the air with the King of Neo. All of a sudden, you feel as though the eyes of the world are around you. While you’re surrounded by a few of the nobles that your family is close with, the others are scattered around, and if you really think about it, the others sitting around you beside them are completely unfamiliar. They are people that Renjun’s father brought from Neo who are allegedly very close to his family, who would want to honor the marriage of their prince with the princess of Ambrosia.
The King of Neo nods, and then hands grab your father and mother, as well as your family friends. You feel the tight grasp of familiar hands on your forearms, and you look behind you, to see it’s Renjun.
His gaze isn’t recognizable. He only looks to his father, waiting for his instruction.
Your father is cursing, spitting, while your mother’s face is drained of all blood as she stares in horror around her.
“Renjun?” You ask, looking at your betrothed, hoping this was all some sort of game or mistake, but a part deep down in you knows that it’s not either.
“Where to, father?” Renjun asks, avoiding your gaze. His grip on you becomes tighter.
“Take them to the cellar.”
-
You feel almost stupid as the story is unfolded in front of you. Renjun and his father are the Resistance, and their identities have been cloaked well. Ambrosia, as the largest kingdom in the area, was vulnerable, and the people were struggling and starving. All the King of Neo had to do was inject the idea of revolution by distributing literature that cried for revolution, and educate people that life could be better than being a peasant. Declare independence from your ruler, like those in France and America few years before. That worked as a recruiting process, and made his organization stronger. It gave him ears everywhere and a wonderful plan to destroy Ambrosia and take the fertile land for himself.
The information that your family is almost bankrupt passed to the Resistance through maids that were seen and not heard, and Renjun’s father set up a match that your father could not refuse. It was a perfectly crafted offer that would make any normal man suspicious. You guess your father was just despirate to make his money problems go away.
So Renjun came, his father got what he wanted from your father, and now you were trapped in a cell, your castle sieged. Wooing you or no wooing you, your father would have forced you to marry Renjun, but in the time that you’ve been locked up, you concluded that Renjun enjoyed watching you fall for him.
Huang Renjun was one hell of a trojan horse. Always be wary if a deal is too good. And always be wary when someone is just too perfect.
You’ve never felt so stupid and childish before. Thinking that after the tourney, you would start seeing dressmakers who would taylor your wedding dress. Hire musicians, cooks, cleaners, and waiters. Tasting delicacies that will be present at the wedding meal. You thought that you were going to be with Renjun forever, but you now realize that forever was just a fantasy.
Instead, you were starving. Compared to the delicious, decadent three meals per day that you were used to seeing, the mysterious mush that gaolers presented you did not sit in your stomach well, and sometimes, your meal times were skipped. You never knew when your next meal came.
You guess you now understand the life of the poor people of Ciel.
One day, out of deliriousness and anguish, from the lack of sleep you were getting on the floor of a wine cellar, you threw your hot mush at the guard who opened the door to give you one of your meals. He hit you across the head and you fell over anticlimactically like a rag doll.
Furious at this insolence, the higher-ups of the Resistance decided to tortue you some more. Forcing your head into a bucket of ice cold water. Ripping open your skirt. Beating you with anything they had on them; once a gaoler beat you with a spoon. You’re chained to the floor as the door opens, and your new gaoler is in front of you.
It’s none other than Huang Renjun, the same way you met him but different. His hair is combed back, and he wears a warm overcoat, trousers, and long boots. He has a small book in his pocket. It’s Oresteia by Aeschylus. The weather has been getting colder in the few weeks you’ve been trapped under the castle that you’ve always called your home.
Renjun drops the plate in front of you. He can’t even bear to look at you.
“How are you enjoying Oresteia?” You challenge, venom in your voice. God, what you thought you would do after you saw Renjun on that fateful day at the tourney. You thought you would slap him and kick him and hurt him in the way that you have been hurting in the past few weeks.
Since you’re too weak to do any of that, you settle for some ‘dull’ conversation about a book, a book that brought you two together. How apt.
“It’s good.” Renjun says simply. He looks away. He doesn’t say anything more than that. Where is that spirit that impressed you when you first met? You wonder if that was a sham.
Renjun is about to leave when he stops himself. He turns around and faces you. You, out of all people, deserved an explanation. He shuts the thick door of your cell. He doesn’t face you as he clears his throat.
“You know, I didn’t want to do any of that.” He struggles to say any of this, to verbally disagree with his father. His father is the seed he came from. You are not his blood at all. Words made this whole fiasco more real.
“Really?” You ask, unimpressed. The dark circles under his eyes tell you that he needs your forgiveness so he can sleep at night.
“It went too far. Why couldn’t he just be happy with what he had?” Renjun grovels, not speaking to you in particular anymore.
“I want to speak with my father. Or my mother,” you command icily.
Renjun sits down. “They’re dead. Beheaded two days ago.” His voice is dry and cold. “My father went with them.”
You gulp. This information isn’t that shocking, yet you feel bile rise in your throat. You knew any news of your parents would mean death. They represent everything that the proletarians hated about the upper class. They would be the first to be kill. Yet still, knowing that the people who raised you, the people who you didn’t always agree with, were erased forever from this world makes your heart sink.
You don’t have any other siblings. You are now truely alone in this world.
But then the second part of the news sinks in your brain. You raise your brow. Renjun explains. He finally has someone he can process these events with.
“Once the other members of the Resistance found out that my father only gathered them so that he could take over, they killed him.” He choked. “Knowing that their cause was manufactured so that another king could rule them made him just as bad. I swore my fealty to the new Resistance in exchange for my life. The organization has decided on a new leader today. A man named Bang.”
“Just a few hours ago, five of your dearest earls were killed. The ones at the tourney. Bang and his cronies are scouring the records of anyone who was friendly with your family.”
You snort a little. Renjun looks at you, and he knows that he deserved it.
“Poetic justice, I guess,” you say, speaking about the deceased King of Neo. Renjun shrugged his shoulder. After a silence ensues between the two of you, Renjun gulps in a deep breath.
“You know, they want to kill you next. Who better than the offspring of the Mad King?” He asks rhetorically. You were prepared for this. It’s not like you were going to be held in a dungeon until the end of time. You were going to have to face the music for your father’s crimes against his people. It felt so unfair, but it couldn’t be helped.
“I’ve been postponing it. I tried to postpone your parents’ execution too.”
You didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath.
“Even after all of this, I still care about you.” Renjun says. His voice is small, as if he’s afraid of someone hearing his declaration of love. After all, there is still a guard posted outside these echoey cellar walls.
Who you thought was a sweet, sensitive, artistic man was one who was always under the thumb of someone else, be it his father or this Bang character.
“You’ll care about me until your new master calls,” you say derisively.
Renjun pursed his lips.
“I deserved that. But I want to be better for you.”
You bite your lower lip.
“How?”
Renjun’s lips are close to your ear; you can barely hear the words he’s saying.
“My men found a network of tunnels down here. One of the rocks on this wall is movable and will open a passage inside. I will give you a map. When you are done reading, eat it up, so there’s no paper trail.
“When I give you a lantern, you know that that is the time. I’ll give you a watch and a slip of paper about the time that there are the least guards watching the outside of this castle. I’ll distract anyone else. All you have to do is run. Got it?” Renjun asks.
You’re stunned. Immediately, you want to tell him that you’ve got it, but you’re now suspicious. After all, your family’s demise was being too trusting to the wrong people.
And Renjun has proven that he’s the wrong person.
“How do I know if I can trust you?” You ask.
“It’s the only choice you have. If you don’t escape using this plan and try to run off any other way, then you will be caught, tortured, and beheaded. The Resistance is scary business. You want my help. I’m their inside man. And I love you. I still do, even after all of this.”
You sigh. You could be fooled again. But it’s better than rotting in a wine cellar at the mercy of the Resistance, living every day hoping it’s not the day of your beheading. At least running gave you an iota of control that you lacked your whole life, as a royal or as a ragged prisoner.
And there’s something else. His eyes. His eyes were able to fool you once, but there is something truthful to it this time.
You don’t have to say anything for Renjun to understand your agreement.
-
The lantern comes only a few weeks later. Since Renjun came to you with a plan of escape, you’ve felt more lively, and Renjun notices that as your gaoler for a few weeks. Due to the “good behavior” that Renjun vouched, you were unchained once again in your cell.
Your first small step towards freedom.
Renjun is able to slip in a few delicacies that Bang and his cronies are eating upstairs in the dining room that you used to eat your whole life. One day an apple pie, another lamb stew with herbs. While you gobbled down that food – the only food you’re actually able to stomach – he would engage in a brief conversation with you; it was the only social interaction you’ve had since the Resistance took over and placed siege on the castle, yet he would only stay long enough that Bang would not grow suspicious of him.
Renjun handed you the map only a few days before the true escape, which was when you knew that the biggest moment of your life was coming. He wanted you to learn by heart the tunnels in the castle, enough so that you can reproduce the map in your head, and he didn’t want to give you the map too early in case you forgot. Obediently, you learned the map as best as you can, associating certain turns as if you were walking above ground in the castle that you were raised in. Once you were done, you ate the map, as Renjun said so no evidence would be left behind.
“180 degrees, vertical” was all he said. You knew what that meant; 6pm. You had no way of keeping time in your little, windowless cell, so Renjun gave you a pocket watch. It wasn’t just any pocket watch, but your fathers that he always kept in his breeches. Overwhelmed with emotion, you dismiss the man who is saving your life, and clutch the pocket watch.
A few minutes to six, you start palming the stone walls of the cellar, hoping to find the notch that will open a door that is your entrance to the secret passage. Your heart is in your throat as you claw the walls like a despirate animal, until finally you hit the right one. Using the minimal light and the small, hidable lantern that Renjun gave you, you trudge through the secret passage, remembering the map he gave you clearly, each step you take being another “dash” of your path on the map. You successfully navigate until you see a trapdoor. It requires a key for it to open, but you have a beautiful hairpin still in your hair from the day of the tourney. As you wiggle the pin into the lock, you take a deep sigh. This is a side exit that shouldn’t reveal your escape quite immediately.
Your heart is pounding restlessly as the open air touches your skin. The warm sun and fresh, cool air feel good against your skin, where in the past few weeks, you’ve been entombed in stale air. You gleefully inhale the scent of the garden’s orchids, which is wafting from the garden that is north of your estate.
You linger a little longer than you should. Renjun didn’t have to say it for you to know that this will be the last time you will see your beloved home ever again. Nothing will ever be the same again. You won’t be a high class woman (not that that mattered much to you anyway), you won’t have your excursions with Doyoung (what happened to him?), you won’t have your exquisite library anymore.
Your love for Renjun is a distant memory. Today, you will be leaving everything behind.
Your lingering turns to loitering when you feel a bright flash hit your face.
“The prisoner!” A guard shouts. He rushes towards you, and you are just quick enough to slip away into the large woods in your estate. You used to play here as a child, and you know the woods like its the back of your hand, and just as Renjun’s map promised, the areas you ran through were sparse of guards.
You can feel more footsteps thumping the ground as more and more men join the first man that noticed you loitering, and you feel nauseous. You can feel yourself screaming in your head that this is your one last shot, you can’t afford to mess up, and Renjun can’t even help you if you were caught.
Wading through the creek nearby with your bare feet, you run into a ditch, taking scrap leaves from the ground and covering yourself with the debris. You’re too out of breath to keep running anymore; the gruel has not been doing you any favors. You hide in a nearby ditch, clothing yourself in debris and the shadow.
“Sir, she went through the water,” you hear one man say.
“Then get into it!” Another man said, more likely the head of this security unit. “You all are a bunch of pussies, a little water doesn’t hurt anybody!”
You hear some reluctant groans as the men trudge through the creek, and you hear the shuffling of various feet at various positions, making it impossible to pinpoint where the noise is truly coming from.
You’ve never been more terrified in your life. You’re honestly not sure how you’ll react if one of the men on that security team find you. Will you scream? Will you cry? Will your heart break into two pieces knowing what lies in wait for you when you’re sent back to the Resistance? To another, worse cell burrowed deeper into the castle cellar than your previous cell? Tourtue would surely be a staple if you were caught. These are thoughts you want to filter out of your mind, but they seem to be infesting your thoughts.
“I don’t see her,” you hear one man say.
“I don’t either,” another man says. You feel slight relief coursing through your veins.
“What should we do, sir,” one man asks his superior.
He takes a deep breath. He shuffles through the woods, causing the anxiety and adrenaline to spike in your veins, and he takes a look around once more.
“Here’s what we will say,” you hear feet shuffling as the men get closer to their commander. “The girl died. She fell down that cliff over there,” he points to the cliff at the distance, the cliff that gives you a view of the Kingdom of Ambrosia. “We don’t mention what really happened here. Understood?” You can imagine that all the men are nodding.
As you hear the mens’ footsteps receding, you wait for ten minutes before your head peaks from the ditch. The sun has fallen, leaving the world pitch black.
Quietly, you shed off the debris from your pitiful dress as a snake sheds its skin.
Now begins your new life.
-
1802
You think you have seen the sun rise and set almost four thousand times since you escaped from the Resistance’s clutches. You haven’t seen or spoken to Renjun in the past eleven years, and he’s as good as dead. In the end, he righted his wrong, and you are not as bitter as you were when you were thrown into that cellar.
That night, you traveled tirelessly north from the woods of your estate, going somewhere you didn’t know yet. All you saw were woods and woods and woods. Maybe a racoon or two. Plenty of squirrels. You tried to talk to some, but that didn’t work very well. It was the loneliest period of your life.
Towns you considered settling in littered the landscape once you crossed Ambrosia’s boarder. Every day, you became a little less fearful that you were being searched for by the Resistance, and eventually, your quest for a new home came to an end after three months of searching. The peaceful little town you would be settling in was called Heaven’s Gate, called because of its high, rocky shores well above sea level.
From the newspapers, you observed the rise of the Resistance, with more and more bloodshed every day that Bang was in power. Eventually, he was beheaded, and the whole Resistance fell apart. From then, Democracy slowly rebuilt the area. In honor of its roots, the state that is your old home is now the Democratic State of Ambrosia.
The switch into democracy didn’t stop peoples’ fascination with the former royal family that was wiped out. There were public records of the death of your mother and father with images of their bodies and eyewitnesses of their death, but none of you. This lead many scholars to believe that you were still alive somewhere.
It’s a nicer alternative to the current narrative.
You smile at the few books and pamphlets you found in your new home’s library detailing the reasons why people think you are alive and where you are now. The common theory is that you boarded a ship to America as a stowaway, living your best life.
It occurred to you that if you walked a little longer, perhaps a few weeks, you could get to the coast and become the stowaway like the stories said and land yourself in America. That would truely be a fresh start. But to leave your homeland? Never.
The people of Heaven’s Gate were quite unassuming. Nobody asked many questions about your life before Heaven’s Gate. You took on a new identity, and the role as the town’s healer. At the ripe age of thirty-one, you have decided that Heaven’s Gate is your children and that you will repent for the sins of your father against his people.
You operate your healing out of your home, and thanks to healing a construction worker’s mother, you got an extension for your practice built for practically free. There is an entrance to your office from directly outside, a little waiting room, and an operating room for you to examine the sick. Definetly much better than your travelling medic act in Ciel.
As you sweep the floors of the operating room, you hear a knock on the door.
“Come in!” You shout.
In comes your apprentice Yoona, who has a strange man limping, leaning against her for support, his messenger bag dragging against the dirt.
“I found him by the creek. He’s already rubbed some marigold paste on his wound, but I wanted to see if you could do anything else with it.”
When you look at the man, it’s like you’ve seen him before. He’s around your age, wearing shabby, dirt-trodden clothes of someone who has begged for their whole life. He hasn’t looked like he’s showered in days, and he’s thin like a stick, but at the same time, he looks… content?
Nothing about this man made sense. Beggars didn’t know that marigold stops infections. Where could he have learned that? A friend? He looks like he’s been wandering alone for a long time.
Deciding not to much further thought into those observations, you notice how Yoona looks at you for a way to proceed.
“Right,” you say, hoping to hide how taken aback you are. “Any sickness? Headaches, sniffling, coughing?” You ask.
“None yet,” the man says grimly. “Although that bread looks very nice.” His gaze falls to the bread pan you have in the kitchen next door to your wing, fresh out of the oven. Despite how content this man looks, there’s a glint in his eye that betrays the hunger that gnaws at him, from days of starvation, running off of whatever he could find, most likely berries on the land. The man in front of you doesn’t emanate skill in hunting either, or else he would have a bow and arrow with him.
Out of pity, you take the bread from your kitchen and bring it into your operating room, letting Yoona shoulder the man into your extension. She lays him down on the bed, and nods out. She will be getting the standard items — water from the well, a few blankets, and spare clothes that you kept washed to give to anyone that came to you for medical help — sometimes, just being clean helps cure the illness more than medicine.
Once she leaves, it’s just you and this stranger. You curiously watch him as he gnaws on the bread, a look of relief in his eyes at not having to forage for this food. Something about this stranger though feels so familiar. But you don’t know how. Any associates of your family were wiped out during the violent period of the Resistance, so no one you love from your old life is left on this Earth.
Since the man already used your standard cure of marigold leaves, the only thing left for you to do is to rub a fresh coat, wrap a bandage around his wound, and hand him poppy seeds to put him to sleep faster since he has no signs of infection. Sleep is also an excellent cure.
When you hand him some poppy seeds, the man shakes his head. “I can take that in a little bit. Really I’m fine,” You look into this deep brown eyes, and the feeling of you knowing this man is gnawing at your brain. “Can you hand me my bag?” He asks. You look dubiously at him and to the poppy seeds still in your hands. “I promise I will take them.”
Knowing that you’re not going to breech this patient’s stubbornness, you grab his bag and place the poppy seeds into a small piece of cloth. The flap on top of the bag is pulled back, revealing a sketchbook and a small canvas. Memories, painful memories haunt your conscience of the boy who fooled you and then saved you.
Watching the man take his sketchbook, he opens to a page of roses. Immediately, the storming of the Carcel rushes back to you. At the way you’re watching the canvas peak out of the man’s messenger bag, he breaks the silence between you.
“I can show you what’s inside too.” He says. But you already have an idea what it is. Putting his sketchbook aside, the man pulls out the slightly dusty, smudged canvas.
It’s you. Naked. That fateful night.
“Huang Renjun?” You ask, finally able to find your voice.
The man smiles, confirming his identity. “I was beginning to think I would have to reintroduce myself.”
You’re completely flabbergasted. “W-What are you doing here?” You ask, your jaw practically dropping to the ground.
“Getting healed. Remember?” He points to his wounded leg.
“I know that,” You snort. “What I mean to say is how are you alive? Wouldn’t Bang have had your head since you let me escape? And then the ending of the Resistance. You were extremely high-profile. How did you avoid death all these years?”
Renjun stares into the distance, recounting his life in the past ten-ish years. “I wasn’t as high-profile as you’d think. I was the Resistance’s painter, painting portraits of high-profile Resistance members. And I was a gaoler. Something about my presence,” Renjun gestures.
Smiling, you agree. “You do have a power over people. Quite a comforting jailer.”
“I was close to the action, but was never really involved in it. I was more of a servant to Resistance members, if you will. And then the Resistance was overthrown. Any “close” members were taken into an interrogation center. I gave up everything I knew in exchange for a presidential pardon on War Crimes. That lead to the execution of Bang and his lackeys. Their over-the-table chatter led me to know about a little residence they have in Corsica where they went when things got too tough,” Renjun says ruefully.
You nodded, absorbing every part of this story.
“And then I heard rumors from old associates from my former kingdom. Neo is now a democracy. And then the papers. That you were alive somewhere. Deep down in my heart, I know you’re a fighter, you’re the strongest person that I know, and I just knew you couldn’t have died somewhere. I would have felt it.” Renjun places a fist against his heart.
“As I searched for you, I completed this canvas of you with the last of my expensive paints from my time with the Resistance. That’s how I felt so connected to you, so sure you were alive.” Renjun smiles at the painting, letting himself get lost in time.
He slowly moves his gaze from the painting that provided him condolence and guidance, his eyes glassy. “And here you are in front of me. Living your life. This is the life you always wanted, isn’t it? No royal chaos, no backstabbing and plotting. Just healing.”
You nod. “I’m happier in this little house in this nowhere town, paid mostly through favors and the peoples’ love of me,” you smile. “I’ve always wanted to be loved.”
“I remember,” Renjun says.
Your hand finds Renjun’s. You study the sight. With the dirt caked under Renjun’s fingernails and all the creases in your hands from the mashing and plucking of herbs from questionable places, you can hardly tell that you both experienced a royal life. Genuinely, it feels like it was a lifetime ago.
“There were times that I wanted to give up finding you, though. This is a big, wide world, and you could be anywhere. The rumors could have been right, and you could be on a boat to America, and I wouldn’t know better. My intuition could only tell me that you’re still alive.
“After seven years of being the Resistance’s little puppet, I was ready to find a purpose in my life again. As cliche as it might sound, my life had meaning when you were in it. Otherwise, I was always working for someone else, whether it was my father or Bong. This was the one thing I wanted to do in my lifetime.
“I had been wandering around for a while, visiting village after village, town after town, never staying too long. I wanted to settle down, but I was also attached to my mission to find you again. So I’d move on. Then your assistant found me. When I walked into this town, and then your house, it screamed of you. After all these years, I was finally sure of something.”
You’re silent for a long time after this monologue, processing every single word, racking your brain to say something, anything.
“The period of my life with you was the happiest. I wasn’t meant for the royal life, but having someone who felt the same way felt as though we were meant for each other. And then the Resistance happened. And then you saved me. You corrected one bad deed with one good deed. I don’t miss the old Ambrosia and my old life which is what made me able to forgive you after I escaped. I miss my parents sometimes, though. But if it wasn’t your family and the Resistance, it would have been something else — monarchies are growing out of style.” You chuckle.
Another silence between you two. You’re out of words to say to each other, enough of the small-talk. Without you realizing, you come closer to Renjun, closer and closer until your chests are pressed together, and you can smell Renjun’s breath. A thin layer of dirt and sweat cover his face, and you take your thumb to brush his cheek, making a visible mark on his face.
“I never thought I’d be in this moment with you, but the Universe is kind. I love you Y/N.” The fat tears falling from his eyes make tracks along his skin. You feel the stinging sensation of tears developing your eyes. You don’t realize how much you’ve suffered. Townspeople have tried to set you up with their sons, uncles, friends. But you’ve always rejected. At first it’s because you wanted to be a dedicated healer, and it would be difficult to do that with children. But now you know the real reason, and he’s standing in front of you.
Huang Renjun. He is the reason. Despite all that has happened, despite how he expedited the end of the Kingdom of Ambrosia, you loved him more than you ever realized. Enough that it seems like that love is about to burst. After all these years of being alone, you finally feel complete.
Grabbing Renjun’s cheeks, you pull him impossibly closer to you, letting your lips land on his and suck his dry, parched lips, but you don’t care. Renjun grabs your waist as he kisses you back.
Your breaths hitting each other’s noses, you finally pull away, your noses touching, as if your bodies can’t bear to be apart any longer.
a/n (2): if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! as my longest fic yet, i've spent countless hours on this fic, and i'm glad to publish the final results. i hope you found this fic enjoyable, and let me know what you thought in the comments or in an ask :3
⤏ synopsis: a minute and 30-second clip of you getting railed by your boyfriend has skyrocketed to the top of a subreddit.
⤏ genre(s): drabble*, smut smut smut
⤏ content: cam couple!au, established relationship!au, non-idol!au
⤏ nsfw warning(s): unprotected piv sex (use your rubbers and stay safe), choking, dacryphilia (i guess??), creampie, lewd comments
⤏ note*: this content is completely fictional.
The slew of new subscribers rolling in from the past few days was a surprise to say the least. Having started a little over two years ago after discussing carefully with your boyfriend, you both agreed that your part-time jobs were just barely enough to get you two by as college students. And as unoriginal as it was, you agreed to open an account to post adult content, grasping onto whatever hope you had left of earning extra income. Though you hadn’t really gained much traction with a mere 2,051 subscribers, and ultimately put your little stint on the backburner.
But you were tired of consuming instant ramen every night on your incredibly stiff couch, tired of getting emails from job applications telling you that they’ve decided to move on with other candidates, and tired of sinking your body into the thin mattress you shared with your boyfriend. You loathed seeing the thumbnails of girls feigning happy-shock with titles enticing viewers with how they made 200 grand, wishing it were you. And for two years, you stayed that way: dejected, sleep-deprived and with only your beloved by your side to woe in misery with you.
But that was until your phone began to jitter and buzz constantly, begging to tell you what the fuss was all about. And that’s when you picked it up and darted to the bathroom, calling out his name and receiving a jolt of mild surprise from San. He’s in all his naked glory with his fingers tangled in his sud-blanketed hair, water pelting at his skin. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the news, you would’ve spent a good, long time taking a mental picture of him.
“You startled me,” he chided, softly.
“Look!” you said with haste, panning the screen toward him.
He smoothed his palms over his face, fanning away the drops of water before squinting his eyes. With his brows furrowed, he looked at you and asked, “Where’d all this come from?”
You didn’t have an answer for him, shrugging your shoulders with an optimistic glimmer in your eyes. And what neither of you were aware of was that this surge of growth was all thanks to a short clip of you getting fucked stupid finding its place on the top of a subreddit.
u/10_TreasureChest_24 • 5d • redgifs
A good boyfriend knows how to break his girlfriend
With your phone propped clumsily against your bottle of lotion, you stayed in frame as it recorded you in 1080p, getting fucked by your boyfriend on your good-for-nothing mattress. The bed frame croaked and squeaked under the pressure of each harsh thrust of his hips and the pathetic squirms of your pliant body. You laid flat on your tummy, fingers twisting the sheets while you helplessly accepted each force his cock imposed in your cunt. Your moans were guttural and broken, and from your neck to your face, you were flushed and burning up.
One hand of his released its firm grip on your breast and made way to your neck, fingers pressing just enough to render you putty under him. If you weren’t so fucked out, you’d swipe away the drool stringing from your lips and the tears running free down your cheeks. But how could you focus on anything other than the cock relentlessly stroking your walls? For once in a while, there were no worries in your mind because the man pinning you down gave you no chance to think straight.
You felt his lips graze your cheek before he muttered, “You okay, Baby?”
A few beats were what it took for you to register his question, before answering with a keen hum.
Warning you with a sharp smack to the side of your thigh, he ordered, “I want a yes or a no.”
“A-Ah…yes—yes, yes, yes! Please"—you swallowed, kicking your feet up behind you—"please, keep g-going!”
“That’s my good girl,” he grunted. “Gonna cum? Can you do that for me, Baby?”
You couldn’t pinpoint how many yeses you spewed from your spit-pooled mouth, while your trembling thighs sandwiched together in a piss-poor attempt to regain any bit of control you had left. Your pussy fluttered around his cock as you saw black, eyes rolling to the back of your skull when you finally reached climax. Every muscle in your body froze in time, and a shiver skimmed down your spine while you waited patiently for him to cum. It felt like hours for you, the overstimulation pushing and pulling you between pleasure and pain until he had completely hunched himself on top of you.
With a lazy smile, you happily milked his load in your cunt and cherished the way his cock throbbed with each pump of his seed. No words were spoken and none needn’t to be. This was pure bliss, and you wanted to soak it in with every selfish fiber of your being. The giggles you shared together almost made it seem like you hadn’t just been choked, plowed into and used as a cum dump. When you were left empty between your legs, you flipped onto your back with your jelly-like limbs sprawled out on the mattress.
If you weren’t so fucked out, you would’ve jumped him again when he crawled and hovered over you with his lips curled into a wolfish smirk.
“I’ll be back,” he murmured, sinking his teeth playfully into the flesh of your breast before pushing himself off.
BEST COMMENTS
fanunesven 5d
Holy fuck he really broke her
hornypoptart17_ 5d
sauce???
thisisathrowaway__21 3d
i need a man to fuck me dumb like this– and those arms 😍 she’s a lucky girl
amazingorgeouspiderman 3d
How the hell did they manage to make rough sex look so wholesome
dinoartistic 4d
Who are they? Names??
Replenish_Clever 3d
that cute little smile she makes when he cums in her tho. mmm…she likes it
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: pervy roommates. porn without plot. smut. (minors do not interact), if you squint a small breeding kink, creampies (we love them in this house), good girl, a very simpy San.
𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: perv!Choi San.
𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Choi San x reader
𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: this is a part two! it's not needed, but it would be preferred to read the first half of this one to get the "full effect." once again shouting out my dear friend @abiaswreck for the help and encouragement for this one. as always, thank you for your love and encouragement on my works. do not interact with my works if you are blank and ageless blog, you will be blocked.
Oh, he's perfect.
It's the only thought that can freely be said and thought while San's perfect tongue is lapping and flicking against your swollen clit. His hands spreading you wide for his liking and eyes finding themselves trained on yours, watching the way yours contorts to pleasure.
He's perfect.
"Just like that."
A finger finding itself inside of you only to be heard with the squelching of your walls swallowing him whole and a deep groan that finds its way from his lips.
"Fucking perfect."
San equally finding you just as perfect. If not more if he would say so himself. The way you taste and how it coats his tongue. He would get off on it alone. He'd greedily drink it if it was his only option.
He's brilliant with his tongue and if you weren't so out of breath, you'd tell him that. You'd scream it to the rooftops if you could.
If the very blue vibrator that brought such a high to your body, sensitivity to your pussy had brought you here. You'd have done this so much sooner. You would have been more daring, especially with the way his tongue is now bringing you so much pleasure.
The way that your legs are shaking alone from the over sensitivity, from the blue vibrator that had been you teasing yourself with for hours.
A single curve of his finger and flick of his tongue is what sets it off, brings the climax and sensitivity to a new high. A leg shaking experience from the pervy roommate who would have never crossed your mind in this way, not once.
Not in this way, his head buried so deep in between your legs and tongue lapping with a vengeance as if he is telling every single fantasy that's surfaced in his mind to you. Drinking in every single drop from your legs, teasing and smirking at the whimpering that leaves your lips with a praise that makes you swoon, crumble, and cry from it.
Such a good fucking boy he is.
"Mmmm, you taste so fucking good."
He groans, a thought he should keep to himself he is sure of, but from the way you are shoving him to his back, lips finding their way down his torso and pressing gentle kisses at the head of his hard cock, he's glad he didn't.
San is a lot of things, many things really, but one thing he isn't is dumb, for that he'll bite his tongue. He very much prefers this view, very much would love the feeling of your -
"Oh fuck."
His hands, they find their way into your hair. His grip tightening with each measure of his length that finds its way inside of the warmth of your mouth. Every hallowing of your cheeks that just feel tighter around his cock.
"Baby."
San is in heaven pure of his dirtiest fantasies and if he was a better man, sure of his own will and his own body, he'd not feel the need to do this. He'd not have to do this and as much as it makes him sad in that fact, in his fantasies, sucking him off and draining him isn't the top of his list.
At least not yet.
"I need to fuck you."
San's hand tugs at the makeshift pony tail, bringing you off his length with a pop. He's pressing his lips to yours, a hand finding its way to your neck and holding you to him. Tongues crashing against each other, groans, and as messy as he can and will make this at some point, he is desperate here.
He's a weak, weak man.
Absolutely weak.
Absolutely.
His hands are at your hips just as fast, squeezing and kneading before he is flipping you to your back. Lips at your neck, leg finding its way in-between yours and spreading them for him to see all of you once again.
San groans, you are drenched so beautifully and so much that it coasts your inner thighs. He's so clean you up again, he'd bring you to the pleasure of absolute tears and joy but for now, he can wait.
For now, his much needed craving is the upmost important.
So much more important and it's clear of that when his length is pushed so deeply inside of your core, squeezing him as he sinks into you. Groaning filling the room from not just you, the feeling alone of full to the brim of just him and him alone.
"So fucking warm."
Hips retrieving from inside of you, slowly and with each thought out step from your pervy room mate.
"So fucking wet."
Your nails digging into his bicep, "I'm gonna absolutely fucking wreck you."
Before you can even find the next words, open your mouth, and tell him to do it cause you dared him too. His hips are smacking against yours rough and fast, a cry leaving past your swollen lips as he finds his way to bringing you sheer pleasure.
Determination to make you never need any toy, any other man, and tongue ever again.
"Such a good girl."
Legs shaking, grasping for anything to keep a steady grip on.
San's coos directly in your ear, each swipe of his tongue on your skin and nibble. You are clenching, struggling, and on the edge of release.
He's perfect.
"Cum on my cock."
You won't need to be asked twice, really cause it's there. desperately. It's touching the surface with each roll of his hips, the small dances of his fingers finding your clit, touching with a gentle press, rolling, and gently pushing the button of release.
You just need one more -
"Oh that's such a good girl."
He's almost there, he just needs you to absolutely flood him. Drown him in your cunt, he needs it.
"That's it, cum on my cock."
He doesn't have to ask more than twice, absolutely not.
He groans against your skin, "Oh my good little girl."
He's biting at your neck, groaning against your skin and lapping the stinging pain after. It's too much.
It's a final thrust, a squeeze and clenching of your cunt around him that sets him off. A hand digging into your thigh as he lifts it up, a better angle to send his cum further into you. He'll fuck into it you if he needs too, he can manage more.
He'll do whatever you ask of him, cause the view of you here in his presence like this. His cum finding its way outside of you, an instant feeling of more swarming his thoughts at the sight.
San really hopes you will let him come back around.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 909 words (drabble essentially, sorry.)
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: masturbation. san's a bit pervy. mentions of sex toys. cum. (it's smut what do you expect.) drabble. possible part two.
𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: perv!Choi San, teasing reader.
𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: choi san x reader
𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: i wanna say a huge thank you to @abiaswreck for being my hype man through this one. for being my hypeman through writing in general. i appreciate you so much more than you will ever know my friend. while reading it's not required, but inspiration for this one is thanks to this song, i had been sitting on this one for so long. so thanks to sleep token. do not interact with my works if you are blank and ageless blog, you will be blocked.
San knows it's wrong.
He knew it the moment he had started to get off on it, from the very first time he heard the very whimper that was a dead giveaway of what you were doing in your room. The familiar sound of humming filling the quiet apartment when he would come home from wherever it was. He knew that sound well, he'd learned what it meant.
He'd found himself standing outside the bedroom of yours, listening to the sound the first time he'd heard it. His body ten times hotter from the gasps and moans leaving your precious lips, the very lips that found their way inside his mind after that first day and from the very first corrupted thought.
He is ashamed he got off on it, that besides the beautifully plump lips surrounding his thoughts and brain. He had begun to wonder how you'd sound riding him, deep inside of your warmth, and if you'd be louder. If you'd beg him to come inside, he'd cum to the thought of it. He would cum to the sounds after a week. He'd stay awake often in hopes to hear the tall tale signs of what you'd be doing the next room over from him.
The guilt feeling would flood his veins shortly after, when the bedroom door would open and the shower would turn on. You'd wash away the slick between your legs that would haunt his dreams to just feel how wet you could get for him. Meanwhile, he'd clean himself with a dirty shirt from hours before. The guilt never stayed for long though, at least not now.
Not when this was the closest he could get.
San was no doubt desperate to feel the way the inside of your mouth would feel sucking on his length, the sounds of you gagging so beautifully on him. He'd do anything for that feeling, so much so that tonight after hearing the buzzing. San had found his way from his bedroom to the hallway, his back pressed against the wall by your bedroom door. His cock free and hard, harder than it's ever been before it feels like.
It's the little whimpers that leave your lips that makes the man tremble in his own skin. The constant pleases for release that's filling your otherwise silent bedroom. The cracked door being the opening to his view of you and what a beautiful sight it is, if he says so himself.
Legs spread, a beautiful view of pussy for him. The very vibrator in between your legs and moving with a feral pace that some may be concerned about it, but not San. San could care less not when you were bringing the highest pleasure to your delicate body.
"Please. Please."
His own version of porn is infront of him. One that he can't help and pump along to, his hand trying to match the pace of the silicone fucking into you. He can hear the squelching with each entire thrust. It's one particular thrust that sets San off, a sound escaping his lips without a second thought.
His mind running purely on pleasure, release, and absolute fucking fantasy of you, your body, and center. He's just on the edge. The sweet rush of cum getting ready to spill out of his cock and he knows he will have to clean it up after, but it's worth it. It's worth seeing this and you like this.
"San?"
Halting his movements to slow tug, a sudden fear bursting into his chest.
"Are you there?"
His hand has fully stopped, footsteps heading to where he stands. His eyes on you as you make your way to the cracked door and swinging it open. The overwhelming dread feeling his chest, guilt, and whatever else hits him fades away when you look down to where his softening cock is now.
"Did you?"
Your eyes darting from it to the floor, brows furrowed together as you look back up to him. You knew the answer, it's evident in the stain on the floor of the hallway. Although that's not what is the main focus here, at least not right now.
"I- Uhm."
It's the chuckle that escapes past your lips that makes his lips snap shut. Any single world leaving them just as quick, the shake of your head. A smirk.
"If you wanted to fuck me Sannie, you could have just asked me."
Eyes darting back to his beautiful browns, "I would have said yes."
Red covers his cheeks.
"I'd offer now, but it seems like you don't need it."
His eyes now dropping to his soft cock and stain on the hallway floor, no doubt he'd have to scrub so hard now.
It's the smirk that makes his stomach fill with butterflies, "Next time though, yeah?"
Shock once again overtaking the chiseled man's features as you turn on your heel, finding yourself back to the bed, legs spread, and the familiar buzzing going again as you make eye contact with him this time.
Each thrust from your hand sends a jump to his cock. Each whimper sending a chill down his spine, but it's the moan of his name that solidifies everything.
San will absolutely ravish you. San will do whatever you want, but for tonight? He is happy to watch. He is happy to play whatever game this is as long as he can feel the warmth of your body.
hades!seonghwa x persephone!reader / prosecutor!seonghwa x florist!reader
past life/reincarnation au
genre and warnings: a lot of fluff, lots of angst, slow burn, suggestive, swearing, violence warning
word count: 22k
synopsis: you move to the city to open a floral cafe with wooyoung but encounter seonghwa by chance and become involved with him as he investigates the biggest drug scandal in the history of wonderland. however, a number of coincidences follow and you start to question if you were meant to meet him especially when you're plagued by dreams of another life with him. as the events of the past intertwine with the present, you both struggle to keep your feelings in check.
There were a number of things you had been afraid of ever since you moved into the heart of Sector 1 to live with your friend Siyeon after spending your whole childhood with your overbearing mother at the outskirts of the town.
Some of them included the ‘basic’ fears that you shared with your mom- you’d get into an accident, get kidnapped, get in trouble, etc. The list was never ending and also unlikely to happen if you had to say.
Your own fears were more like your mom paying a surprise visit to check on you, finding Siyeon doing something weird like she was always doing and take you back home. Or, she could be visiting the city and accidentally run across you and Wooyoung while you scrooged the area for a potential place for your cafe, find Wooyoung doing some crazy shit like he was always doing, and lose her blind trust in him and take you back home. You were surrounded by the craziest people but somehow, your mother trusted you with both Siyeon and Wooyoung.
However, as you grabbed the hand of a stranger and ran for your life while gunshots sounded behind you, your first thought was, now that’s one scenario I didn’t prepare myself for. Especially when you didn’t even know why you were running.
You ran from one street into another, his hand gripping yours tightly, until you took the lead and slid into a narrow alley, hiding yourselves behind large boxes. You both waited for the sound of running footsteps to fade when you finally looked at him-
And found a very familiar face staring at you. You frowned in confusion- you had definitely seen him somewhere, but you couldn’t recall where. And he, too, frowned as if he was trying to make sense of you. You scanned his appearance- he was dressed in a suit, his dark hair matted on his forehead, eyes sharp. You licked your dry lips. “I’m sorry- do I know you?”
“If you’re wondering why I dragged you,” he said and you thought his rich deep voice sounded familiar too, “Those men were after me. They wouldn’t have cared if you had gotten in the way- they would have hurt you.”
You rested your head against the wall, trying not to groan. You were out of breath. The man asked you to wait and went to check if the area was clear. He returned looking relieved and offered you his hand which you took to get up. He took out a card. “Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I’m sorry for involving you- investigation went wrong.”
You gave him a sceptical look as you scanned the card. “Must be a dangerous case you’re working on.”
“You could say that,” he shrugged. “Are you alright? You scraped your feet- let me take a look at that.”
Before you could protest, he was down on one knee examining the long slash across your feet. It wasn’t noticeable when you were running but it ached now. You stepped back. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? It looks painful,” he bit his lips as he got up, looking guilty.
“I didn’t even notice it before-”
“Let me accompany you to the convenience store then,” he insisted.
“It’s not necessary,” you almost pouted but he didn’t look like he was going to back away. “Okay. I’ll accept that as an apology.”
He scoffed, urging you to follow him, watching you to check if you had a problem walking. Thankfully, you didn’t and you walked with him to the store which was a few minutes away. He made you sit inside and paid for the first aid and while you applied ointment on the wound, he made you some ramen and even got a few side dishes.
“You didn’t have to,” you smiled at the gesture.
“I also need something in my system right now,” he sighed, sliding you the chopsticks. “I must say that I didn’t expect you to be this calm about it.”
You wondered if you could tell him that there were a number of scenarios you were more scared about, and most of them included your mother. “I’ve seen worse. Not guns,” you corrected when he raised his eyebrows at you. “But… yeah, nevermind. I guess I’m good at keeping my cool.”
“You must be, Miss…”
You told him your name and he nodded along, taking a bite of his ramen. You watched him curiously. “Is this your first time being chased like this?”
“Not really, no,” he replied. “Sadly, I’m kind of used to this now.”
“That’s a shame,” you took a bite, thinking. “I mean… what if something happens to you? Because you could have died- we could have died tonight. So if you die now, won't you have any regrets?”
He gave you a curious look and you memorised his face- he was very handsome, you noticed. You couldn’t stop staring at him and you were wondering if it was because you wanted to recall where you had seen him or because he simply was too handsome to not look at. He took a deep breath. “I would like to finish this case before I die. It’s more complicated than I thought and if I don’t get to the end of it, I’m afraid no one will.”
“That’s a work-related regret,” you pointed out in disappointment.
“What about you?”
“Well, I also have unfinished business, quite literally,” you laughed. “I’m opening a floral cafe with my friend. I’ve been dreaming about it for like, a decade. I’d like to serve at least one customer before I die.”
“Isn’t that a work-related regret as well?”
“It’s my dream too, but I suppose you’re right,” you grinned and he joined despite himself, waiting for your answer. “I’d like to explore a bit. Live a little.”
Seonghwa could resonate with that. “I think I’d like to live a little too.”
You nodded, finishing the food. “Thank you so much for this- you really didn’t have to.”
“Consider it my apology for involving you,” he said. “Can I have your contact number? I might have to call you for a witness statement, if you’re alright with that.”
“Sure,” you took out his card and texted him on the number. “I don’t think I’ll have much to say though.”
“That’s okay, it’s just for paperwork,” he assured you and you got up, telling him you’d take a cab back home. You watched him leave first and then you slumped down on the chair as you wondered if those familiar sharp eyes were the ones you’ve been dreaming about for almost half your life.
What would that mean for you?
—------------------------
Flowers often wilted under your touch, and though your mother called it ‘wrong’, it somehow felt right.
That didn’t mean you felt excited about it. You were the goddess of spring. You were supposed to give life to flowers, not kill them.
You sat by the stream, digging your fingers under the soil. You laughed to yourself as you scanned the dead flowers around you, and you wondered what Lord Hades would think about this, because it seemed like the flowers were-
“Straight from the Underworld,” a voice sounded and you froze for a moment before you turned towards the dark figure of Hades announcing his arrival. You tried to look at his face- you could almost see it now…
“Interesting that they call you Persephone,” the King of the Underworld slid closer and then was down on one knee before you. “Why did you call me here?”
“I- I didn’t call you,” you managed to say, wanting to scoot away from him but you were captivated. “How?”
He smiled, glancing at your fingers still buried under the soil. Gently, he held your wrists and took them out, dusting your hands carefully. You tried taking your hands away. “I could hurt you.”
“No, you won’t,” he said nonchalantly before looking at you. “Have you ever hurt someone?”
“I think I have,” you found yourself saying.
“And why would a sweet thing like you hurt someone?” He took one of the wilted flowers and tucked it behind your ear. “They probably deserved it, didn’t they?”
You were about to say something but he got up. “Go back before Demeter comes to find you. I’m not sure she’ll like this.”
“But…” you sighed, an indescribable ache in your heart. “I don’t know what to do. I feel helpless.”
“You’re not alone,” he simply said. “And if you ever feel lost, you can call for me.”
—-------------------
This wasn’t the first time you had that dream, however, this was the first time the voice sounded so familiar.
As you got ready, pairing accessories with your pastel blue outfit, you wondered if you were closer to discovering the identity of the person you were dreaming about for so long.
Yes, it was probably a fictional story your mind had created for the sole purpose of your entertainment, where you were playing Persephone and your mother was playing Demeter. When you first started having these dreams a few years ago, though not as frequently as nowadays, you let the story play in your head until one day something occurred to you which prompted you to google the story of Persephone and Hades-
And left you gaping in surprise because it really did seem like you were legitimately seeing it from Persephone’s eyes.
You never mentioned it to anyone. You weren’t so sure you needed to- after all, there were various interpretations of the stories of the Greek gods. However, the character of Hades intrigued you a lot, and it was a shame you could never remember just who he was. Also, it didn’t help that your mother had been calling you Kore forever- she had been obsessed with Greek mythologies when you were little and read those to you as your bedtime stories.
Perhaps these dreams were a result of hearing those dreams as a child, a trauma-
“If you’re done staring at yourself, the breakfast’s getting cold,” Siyeon popped her head in your room, snickering. “It’s only Wooyoung. Who are you getting pretty for?”
You glared at her. “Rich coming from you when we all know how big a crush you harbour-”
“Shut up and be at the table in a minute if you want me to drop you off.”
“Alright, madame,” you made a face and sighed, your mind wandering off to the familiar voice of Hades-
Your phone vibrated and you read the text from Prosecutor Park Seonghwa asking you if you were available to meet at the police station in an hour. You texted that you were and told Wooyoung that you were going to be a bit late before joining Siyeon at the table.
“Wooyoung told me you might have found a place for your cafe?” Siyeon asked and you nodded.
“We’re reviewing our options today and I hope we can finalise something,” you took a sip of coffee, sighing as you slumped back. “It’s about time we actually started running the business instead of just dreaming about it.”
“Right,” Siyeon nodded. “Your mother called me last night. Apparently you weren’t picking up?”
“Oh, I forgot to call her back,” you groaned. “What did she say?”
“Just the usual,” she grinned. “Tell y/n to stay safe, pick up her calls, stop roaming around so late at night- I don’t know how she’s gonna digest the idea of you and Wooyoung working together with actual people around you until midnight.”
“Yeah, I told her to be mentally prepared. I don’t know when she’ll understand I’m not a kid…” you sighed deeply. “Though after last night, I can kind of understand why she’s like this…”
“What happened last night?” Siyeon frowned.
You told her your story on the way to the police station where she was to drop you off. She was surprised but also momentarily got possessed by your mother as she scolded you for roaming around strange places all alone so late at night. When you arrived, the prosecutor was already waiting for you and Siyeon did a double take.
“That’s the Prosecutor that got you in trouble?”
You raised a brow. “You know him?”
Siyeon scoffed, getting out of the car and haughtily walking towards the prosecutor who looked at her and then at you, and then groaned.
“I can’t believe you almost killed my friend, Park Seonghwa.”
You gaped between the two, and he sighed deeply. “That’s an exaggeration, but good to see you too.”
“This is the Prosecutor who made my life at work hell a year ago,” she pointed and you nodded in realisation, stifling your smile- you had only heard bad things about him.
“But we became friends over a few drinks, didn’t we, Siyeon? Or are you going to forget how I helped you out and saved your sorry ass?”
“I’m sure he was just doing his job,” you patted Siyeon’s arm. “You should go now- stop giving him that look.”
Siyeon glared at Seonghwa before saying bye and you gave the man a sorry look. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long, Prosecutor Park.”
“Just call me Seonghwa. I’m sorry I had to call you. I would have dealt with it, but…” he sighed. “The police here don’t really like me.”
You looked at him in confusion and he led you inside. The officer in charge of the case made you both wait 10 minutes just because he was going through his phone (judging by the smile on his face, you were pretty sure he was talking to his partner), and though you both had stayed silent while you waited, you decided to break the ice.
“Looks like you have some beef with him,” you commented.
“I don’t have beef with him,” Seonghwa laughed, caught off-guard by your comment and it made you stifle a grin. “We’ve just not had the chance to meet on good terms.”
“Same difference,” you muttered.
Before he could retort, the officer finally looked up from his phone and gave you two a tired look, fixing his gaze on Seonghwa. “Prosecutor Park… ever so busy, eh? Still going after the elites just because they seem to be having fun? Still called the Underworld’s Grim Reaper?”
You blinked at the nickname and then it dawned on you why his voice sounded so familiar-
It was the same voice you had been hearing in your dreams.
“Officer Lee… I see you haven’t changed. I thought you got promoted after you rattled on about me to the superiors, but… too bad.”
The officer gruntled at that and you pursed your lips, looking back and forth between the two. Before they could make another jab, you cleared your throat and raised your hand awkwardly. “I’m here.”
Officer Lee passed you a page. “Fill this up and then answer my questions.”
You filled the page with your private information and then the officer asked you to narrate the events. By the end of it, he was tsk-ing at Seonghwa. “Now you’re troubling innocent civilians too. Do you have to go so far? Don’t you remember the last time you got a civilian involved-”
“You don’t have to worry about her inconvenience,” Seonghwa countered. “She’s a… friend.”
You raised a brow at that but decided to play along- it looked like the officer really wanted to get to him and you wondered just what had happened between the two.
“Well, you’re free to go then,” he said after he asked you to narrate the event and you got up, bowing and waiting for Seonghwa who was still glaring at the man and then he exhaled deeply, getting up and going ahead without waiting for you. You followed him outside, watching him stop and run a hand through his hair, almost in frustration.
“You okay?” You asked cautiously.
“Yeah. I’m good,” he nodded after a moment, scanning you- you suddenly felt like a child out of place in your pastel outfit. “Do you need me to drop you off?”
“No, it’s okay, I’m meeting a friend at the intersection,” you told him. “I’ll walk.”
“I’m passing by, so get in,” he motioned to the car and went ahead before you could refuse his offer, making you shrug and follow.
“Sorry for today,” Seonghwa said after a minute as he drove. “I won’t bother you again.”
“It’s okay, I didn’t mind,” you told him.
“I’m sorry for that day too,” he continued. “I could have gotten you killed, like Siyeon said.”
“It’s okay, it was just a big coincidence,” you shrugged and he glanced at you. “I’m just glad we’re both unhurt.”
Seonghwa raised a brow at your candidness. “Have you always lived in Sector 1?”
“I lived near the Sector 2 border- the town with the hills,” you told him. “I commuted for college and moved here not too long ago.”
“Is that where you met Siyeon too?”
“No, we’re school friends,” you smiled. “She also lived there back then.”
“Ah, I see.” A ghost of a smile lingered at Seonghwa’s face and you watched him, intrigued. “I don’t think Siyeon ever mentioned you but… we weren’t best friends either.”
“Siyeon never mentioned you either, I think- not directly. She did mention some jerk making it hard at work, but,” you laughed and he joined. “That’s about it.”
You spotted the intersection and told him to drop you off there. He offered to wait with you until your friend arrived, but you insisted that it was fine. Seonghwa did look at you a moment too long before he sighed. “I guess this is goodbye then. We probably won’t be seeing each other again.”
You scanned him, his sharp eyes just as familiar as his voice. You wondered if the ache in your heart meant anything. “Let’s hope if we do meet each other again, it’s when we’re not running for our lives or going to a police station.”
Seonghwa smiled at that and you watched his face transform into pure warmth, his eyes sparkling. “Sounds good.”
You watched him leave, wondering just what his deal was. He seemed to be dealing with a lot and you made a mental note to ask Siyeon just what exactly the officer meant by him being the Underworld’s Grim Reaper. At the sound of a horn, you turned to Wooyoung sticking out his neck and waving at you and you immediately got in the front seat.
“Did I keep you for long?” He patted your arm as a greeting before he drove off.
“Not at all,” you told him. “I hope you’re in full spirits because we’ve had enough of scouring potential buildings for our cafe. We need to decide today, Wooyoung. Don’t be a sloth.”
“Okay, okay,” he nodded his head furiously, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “I have a feeling that today is a lucky day.”
Today was indeed lucky. By the late evening, you went through your top 5 picks and decided on a spot to open your cafe- it wasn’t in the hotspot of the city but quite near it, and you were very satisfied by its architectural design which allowed you to make the most of the ‘floral’ part of the cafe. Wooyoung had no problem with it either, so you signed the deal and shook hands with him.
“I can’t believe we managed to do this today- I thought we were bluffing!”
“When I put my mind to something, I do it, y/n,” he simply stated. “Now let’s go for dinner- I’ll call the boys and you can call Siyeon- I hope some of them can make it. I need to introduce you to my other friends too.”
“Yeah, you know how hard it was for me to come back here when college was over,” you sighed. “And your ‘other friends’ are always too busy.”
“We should plan a proper party, though, what do you say?” Wooyoung asked. “We’ll treat them and then force them to help us.”
“That… sounds pretty good actually,” you grinned at him and he grinned back, bumping his fist with you as you both plotted the demise of your friends and how to exploit their services.
With that, you and Wooyoung arranged a welcome party at a restaurant near your cafe on the weekend so you could have dinner first and visit the venue later. You invited Siyeon, which you started regretting when she decided she was in charge of dressing you up for the night, and you ended up in all black, with your hair and makeup more edgier than usual- she insisted you needed to look like you had your shit together and could tolerate doing business with Wooyoung which was no small feat. She still couldn’t believe how Wooyoung, who was the loudest and most blunt and outgoing person she knew, could be friends with you who was timid and always fidgeting with her words.
“But you can shut Wooyoung up, so I guess that counts for something.”
“I can shut you up too,” you countered. Siyeon snickered at that but didn’t deny it- you may have grown up sheltered and were just learning about real life and its responsibilities now, but Siyeon knew there was an undeniable fire within you.
“But I don’t blab as much as him,” Siyeon pouted.
“Gosh, just tell Wooyoung that you like him, you’re so corny,” you threw your makeup sponge at her as she turned to hide her face after making that comment.
“I don’t like him,” she looked baffled. “He’s too much.”
However, as you entered the restaurant, you watched how Siyeon’s eyes darted immediately to Wooyoung and you rolled your eyes, greeting the rest of his friends- Yunho, Mingi and someone you hadn’t seen before. Yunho and Mingi you knew from college and met with them often.
“This is the famous Kim Hongjoong who is very hard to reach,” Wooyoung pointed and Hongjoong laughed in embarrassment. “You two better get along. We’re still missing one, but he’ll be here soon- he said we could start dinner without him.”
“Oh, we could wait?” You asked but Wooyoung told you it was okay, and you sat across Hongjoong, learning that he was a famous composer and Wooyoung told you that he was producing a soundtrack for your cafe as a gift too, which you really appreciated.
“Once I see what the vibe is, I’ll come up with something,” Hongjoong promised.
“No way, aren’t you asking too much from him, Wooyoung?” You looked around in disbelief and everyone laughed.
“It’s the least I can do-”
“It’s the least he can do,” Wooyoung announced and you laughed harder, Hongjoong promising to mess up the track if Wooyoung annoyed him too much and you enjoyed the bickering as you finished dinner and you all decided to walk to the cafe. You fell behind the group, watching them laugh over something and you smiled to yourself, glad you had such good people in your life-
You turned to your right and spotted none other than Seonghwa, dressed in a suit, probably coming straight from work, holding a big wrapped box. You met eyes with him and he stopped in his tracks when he saw you with the rest of his friends.
While you both stood gaping at each other, you suddenly had a flashback of the recent dream you had-
“I wish you weren’t so afraid, Persephone,” Hades crawled behind you, letting his fingers run down your sleeves and catch your trembling fingers- somehow, his touch comforted you more than anything else in this world.
“I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,” your voice wasn’t even and you looked down, watching his fingers interlock with yours as he rested his face next to your head. “I’m supposed to be the goddess of spring but all I seem to do these days is destroy.”
“And who said you were only the goddess of spring?” Hades' voice held a hint of playfulness. “You can be more than one thing.”
“Could I?” You smiled, embarrassed, moving away from him. Perhaps, he was trying to make you feel better. “I’m not even good at one thing.”
“You think we’re good at what we do?” Hades went to sit by the tree in front of you. “I can barely handle the Underworld these days.”
You sat near him, gazing at him out of curiosity. “What is the Underworld like?”
“Would you like to see?” Hades leaned in and for a moment, just for the shortest moment, your heart was gripped by the fear of your mother finding out who you’ve been hanging out with lately.
“I don’t think I should leave the mortal realm,” you pouted. “Mother would instantly know I’m gone.”
“You don’t have to leave to see it,” Hades was smirking. “I can show you- close your eyes.”
You did and you felt his fingers on your forehead- and then you were suddenly shivering with cold, couldn’t see anything except darkness- until you realised you could actually see and it was just incredibly dark.
“This is the Underworld,” Hades said. “Where I live. A city down there. We have rivers too, but I’m not sure you’d like them.”
“How can I see this?”
“This is just my memory,” Hades said, drawing his fingers away and you opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times.
“It’s so cold there,” you tilted your head, grabbing his hand without a second thought. “You’re always cold.”
Hades frowned- could you actually feel the place from his memory alone? “I’ve clearly underestimated your powers, it seems.”
“I know just what that place needs,” you smiled, ignoring his remark- you tended to ignore anyone who talked about your powers. You watched Hades’ brow rise in confusion.
“It needs a touch of spring.”
Wooyoung all but attacked Seonghwa with a hug that had him grimacing, going on about how he made it just on time but it was a pity that he had to miss dinner. When Wooyoung was about to introduce you two, you looked at Siyeon who muttered, “What a big fucking coincidence.”
You giggled at that, and Wooyoung looked between you and Siyeon. “Why does it look like you already know him?”
“That’s because she does, you idiot,” Siyeon slapped Wooyoung’s arm. “You should have told me he was coming. You know I have beef with him.”
“And that’s exactly why I didn’t,” Wooyoung looked proud and Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “I’m aware Siyeon and Seonghwa know each other from work, but how do you know him?”
“Uh… it’s a long story,” you shrugged, looking at Seonghwa for help.
“She was a witness in a case I’m working,” was Seonghwa’s short explanation and you nodded eagerly, hoping he wouldn’t ask more. Wooyoung didn’t, just dragged Seonghwa to the front and he greeted the rest.
“They’re old friends, huh?” You let out a short laugh, looking at Siyeon who looked both annoyed and curious. “Sure is a small world we live in.”
You reached the cafe and Wooyoung called you to the front, putting an arm around you. “This is us.”
“You sound like a married couple who just bought a house,” Mingi laughed.
“Might as well be,” Wooyoung scoffed. “Come in, let’s show you around.”
Wooyoung did most of the talking while you added in the details, showing them the main sitting area and a few private corners for people who would want to work in peace while having a break. The kitchen was huge and well-equipped as well, and upstairs, there was a terrace that you would be utilising for the customers as well, with two separate rooms that would be your offices.
“We really won in the luck department with this one,” you finished showing them around, taking a seat with the rest on the terrace where Wooyoung opened the bottle of wine Seonghwa had brought as a gift. “I never thought I’d have a room here as well. I could practically live here.”
“That wouldn’t be very safe,” Seonghwa said.
“I know, but on the days when I’m too tired to go home, I could take a little nap here,” you shrugged.
“Now that we’re all present and I’m pouring you all wine to commence the beginning,” Wooyoung finally began the speech you were expecting and you stifled your laugh. “I better see each one of your ass working with us.”
Hongjoong stopped in the middle of drinking. “Working how exactly?”
“Help us move!” Wooyoung slumped down. “Help us bring this place to life! With only the two of us, it’s going to take forever, especially with y/n’s clumsy ass-”
“I’m not the one who fell on her face because I was too busy looking upwards when I walked,” you muttered, referring to moments ago when Wooyoung tripped on empty boxes while he was walking, making everyone laugh out loud.
“Not the point!” Wooyoung glared at you and you glared back. “Anyways, all of you better be present here.”
“You’re only going to order us around and do absolutely nothing!” Mingi pointed his finger at him. “I still remember when I thought it was a good idea to move in with you.”
“I could help, but I expect something in return,” Yunho said and Siyeon clapped at that.
“My point exactly.”
“You owe me one in case you forgot, Yunho,” Wooyoung pointed his finger at him and Yunho grinned. “As for Siyeon… she could get a special discount.”
That fueled an argument on why he didn’t offer the ‘special’ discount to anyone else and Siyeon announced she didn’t need anything from Wooyoung, which made you elbow her.
“We’re all busy and have a life, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa finally said and the boys clapped enthusiastically at that. “But… I’ll come around if I have some free time. And the rest of you should as well- otherwise don’t expect them to treat you any differently from the rest of their customers.”
You both were satisfied to hear that while the rest groaned, making promises to come and help, teasing each other. You opened a bag of chips and offered some to Seonghwa who was sitting near you.
“Funny seeing you here tonight,” he said as he took a few. “I didn’t recognise you for a moment. You look different.”
“That’s all Siyeon,” you touched your hair consciously, tucking behind your ears. “I thought you were just passing by. Seems like we have quite a few people in common.”
“Seems so,” he smiled. “Wooyoung always talks about you, I just never made the connection.”
“Really?” you laughed, looking at him who was still accusing his friends of being lazy. “He does talk a lot in general. He may have mentioned having a busy old friend- two of them. I met Hongjoong for the first time today.”
“He’s my oldest friend,” Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and you watched his gaze turn soft. “He’s also the busiest, so don’t expect to see him helping around more than once. He uses any free time for a nap.”
“I see,” you turned towards Seonghwa, resting your face on your hand, elbow propped on your leg. “And will I be seeing you more than once?”
Seonghwa’s breath caught at the way you looked, with hair shining brightly under the moonlight, eyes tired but full of life. He mirrored your position, a faint smirk on his face. “Maybe you will.”
That night, Seonghwa woke up feeling like a bucket of cold water had been splashed over him though sweat laced his forehead. He checked the time- it was 03.47 am. He went to the kitchen to drink some water and recalled the dream he had seen-
It was you. He had dreamt about you, but… it wasn’t exactly the person he knew. And he had called you Persephone. You had been sitting by a lake, eyes wide and helpless, and he had touched your face and said-
“If I could… I would make you the Queen of the Underworld.”
Seonghwa sighed deeply- was he thinking too much about you? He had been busy with his work, and recently, he’d seen a lot of you, which was perhaps why he was having recurring dreams about you where he called you Persephone, which made him Hades-
King of the Underworld.
Or maybe he took his nickname way too seriously. Seonghwa shook his head- the dreams were causing him to be restless in his sleep. Maybe he just needed to relax a bit but… his recent case had him spiralling into darker territories, and he wondered if he could even get to sleep anymore.
—--------------------------
The last few days were the busiest. You spent most of your time in the cafe and the boys occasionally dropped by to help you out, though you noticed having company meant you also slacked off as you got distracted elsewhere, but things were looking good so far. You and Wooyoung were done setting up your office rooms so you could focus on the rest.
Today, you were back to the last bit of scraping. You arrived late, having slept in since it was Sunday and you found Wooyoung taking a nap on the couch in his office. You didn’t wake him up, deciding to put on some light instrumental music while you scraped and got lost in your thoughts.
These days, your thoughts mostly drifted to the recurring dreams you were having- they were almost like flashbacks of a memory, of a… past life. But you didn’t believe in past lives.
Maybe you should, you wondered to yourself as you shifted to one leg, lazily scraping. But even if you did believe in past lives, did you believe in Hades and Persephone? Even if you did, why would they look exactly like you, Seonghwa and the other people in your life? Why would they be speaking your language?
Maybe they speak your language for you, you found yourself thinking. You recalled having a dream in Japanese a while ago when you barely knew two phrases. Dreams were supposed to be weird, you told yourself. But were they supposed to be playing out like a story of someone’s life?
Your train of thought was broken when you heard someone clear their throat behind you and you realised you hadn’t been scraping at all for a while now. You put on a smile in an attempt to seem normal before turning to greet-
Seonghwa. He had a way of appearing exactly when you were thinking of him.
“Hi,” he waved awkwardly, dressed in something other than black for once. The denim quite suited him.
“H-hi, I wasn’t expecting you- or anyone, for that matter,” you managed to say, recovering from the initial shock. “Uh, please have a seat?”
Seonghwa looked around in amusement at the absence of any seats. “Where’s Wooyoung?”
“He’s taking a nap,” you told him, fumbling to empty the nearest stool. “I just came and decided to let him sleep.”
“Good idea, it would be way too loud with him,” he laughed, asking you to stop. “I’m not here to relax. I’m here to help you out, so tell me what to do.”
“Really?” You smiled, suddenly conscious of the dirty apron you were wearing- it had everything from dust to paint on there. “Well… you could scrape this part and I could start on the next?”
“Sounds good,” he scanned you. “Do I get an apron too?”
“Oh, yes,” you said, laughing. “We have a spare for this purpose.”
You went to the box near you, digging out the apron and handing it to him. He wore it and got to work immediately and you watched him for a moment before resuming your own. “You didn’t actually need to help out- I’ve heard how busy you are with your recent case, and from what I’ve seen… it’s hectic.”
“Come on, even Hongjoong stopped by,” he laughed a bit, looking at you. “Or is it that you didn’t want to see me?”
“Now why would you think that,” you pouted, surprised at how playful he sounded despite the serious expression on his face. “I just thought you’d be tired- your job is demanding.”
“It wasn’t always like this,” Seonghwa glanced at you as he said, “I got myself into this mess, and now I can’t get out until I win or admit defeat.”
You put a hand on your hip as you scraped. “Admitting defeat sounds dangerous.”
“It is,” he sighed. “I’m not ready to give up yet.”
You turned to him but then paused, resuming your work- it seemed to be easier to talk when you were both busy and not looking at each other. “Just what have you involved yourself in, Seonghwa? I don’t think we’ve addressed the fact that you’re in constant danger.”
Seonghwa sighed deeply and it looked like he was actually considering telling you. “I can’t really talk about it- the less you know, the safer you are.”
“Well, maybe I don’t love being so safe,” you said, surprised at how you voiced that so boldly, making even Seonghwa stop and turn to look at you. You matched his gaze.
“Sometimes I wonder who you are,” he said, and you felt like he meant more by it. “Why were you so calm that day? And why are you willing to involve yourself in something dangerous?”
You shrugged, going back to scraping, ignoring the loud thump of your heart between your ears. You could still feel his gaze on your back. Thankfully, Wooyoung interrupted and you got a call right at that moment, going into another room to talk to your mother who told you she would be paying a visit-
Right now.
You got out of the room, waving your hand wildly at Wooyoung who moved closer to hear your conversation while Seonghwa watched awkwardly.
“But mom… I’m literally scraping- it’s an ugly sight. You should just go to my apartment and I’ll arrive right after you-”
“I’m near the cafe, Kore,” she said and Wooyoung sagged down to the ground. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” you hung up and kicked Wooyoung’s thigh lightly. “Get up. We’ve got to make this look presentable.”
“Your mother’s coming, what’s the big deal?” Seonghwa finally dared to ask and then regretted it when you two glared at him.
“She’s a monster, for starters-”
“She’s my mother, asshole,” you slapped Wooyoung’s arm. “And what’s your problem? She loves you!”
“She only pretends to!” Wooyoung shouted. “She threatened to hang me upside down on the ceiling if I tried anything funny with you!”
“Let’s just get to work,” you clapped, sliding all the stuff lying in the middle of the room to the corners. Just two minutes later, you heard the sound of the door opening.
“Seonghwa’s still here,” Wooyoung pointed out. “Should I say he is my friend?”
“He is your friend, Wooyoung, please wake up,” you almost cried and Seonghwa snorted. “If you’re going to say something stupid, you better just shut up- hi, mom!” You went to hug her, Wooyoung following with a smile.
“You look well,” she commented. “But there are dark circles under your eyes.”
“Those are proof that I’ve been working hard,” you smiled and she laughed at that, handing you the bouquet of fresh flowers that she brought from home- your favourites. You sniffed them deeply, sighing happily before setting them on the table.
“And this is?”
“My old friend, Park Seonghwa,” Wooyoung introduced and Seonghwa bowed. “He came to help us out.”
Your mother gave you a look before she sat down. “I won’t be here for long- I came to visit a friend and thought I’d drop by and see what’s up. Would you excuse us, boys? It’s good to see you, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung saluted, dragging Seonghwa to another room- or at least, pretending to. You just knew he would be loitering right outside the room, and chances were that Seonghwa would be too. You turned your attention to your mother. “You could have told me earlier. I would have arranged for dinner or something-”
“There’s no need,” she shook her head, looking around. “The cafe looks nice. Are you sure you need to stay and work with Wooyoung? You’ll only be dealing with flowers- you could do that from home-”
“Wooyoung is only going to be cooking, I’ll be handling everything else,” you reminded her. “We cannot work without each other.”
“It’s pretty late though- when do you even go back?” She checked her watch. “Here, all alone-”
“I’m going to be alone most days,” you straightened up- somehow, you found it easier to challenge your mother when you met her after some time apart. “Besides, there’s always company.”
She frowned at that. “Do you know that boy?”
“Wooyoung introduced us not long ago. He’s one of his old friends, like Yunho and Mingi.”
“I don’t like this, Kore,” she sighed and you groaned.
“You never like anything I do,” you said. “I’m not little anymore. I’m making my own decisions. Please give me space to breathe.”
“Do I suffocate you?” She raised a brow.
“Honestly? Sometimes, yes. I love you but you do that.”
Your mother didn’t look too hurt to hear that, which didn’t give you much satisfaction either. She got up, taking her purse. “I’ll be back when you finally open the cafe.”
“Sure, you have to make it to the opening. And please arrange for the flowers- I’ll send you a list soon, okay?”
She patted your cheek and left, and you finally felt yourself relax. You heard the sound of footsteps. “Damn. That was intense.”
“Shut up,” you groaned, looking at Seonghwa who told you that you looked pale and before you could protest, he poured you water and slid the glass.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked and you nodded, glancing at Wooyoung who was peeking out of the window to make sure your mother was actually gone. “Why did she call you Kore?”
“It’s a nickname- she started calling me that when I was little. It’s something to do with Greek mythology-”
“I’ve heard,” Seonghwa nodded, accidentally brushing your hand as he took the glass from you and said, “Persephone.”
A stabbing pain in your head made you wince. “Sorry, what?”
“That’s what Demeter called her daughter, right?” he said and you nodded absently.
“Have you always known that?”
“What?”
“That Demeter called Persephone Kore?” You asked, your voice small.
“Does it matter?” He asked and you thought that was a weird answer. Before you could probe, he went to Wooyoung, leaving you wondering why he didn’t simply answer that.
—--------------------
A few days later, Seonghwa found himself standing outside your cafe in the middle of the night.
There were a number of things that brought him here. The illegal drugs case he was investigating had taken a dangerous turn since the past few months, which meant he was being assaulted and blackmailed. His place had been ransacked, evidence stolen, and he found himself growing anxious with every passing day. But then, it involved the top class of Sector 1 notoriously known as the Underworld, and if he exposed the individuals involved, he was positive the citizens of Wonderland would lose trust in their government and officials.
He had told no one yet, and he wasn’t planning to, but now he was wondering if he could go on like this. He was being backed up by Mr. Ahn, the director of a leading pharmaceutical company, but he wasn’t sure he could trust him with the details- at least not fully. But he was powerful, and he had connections, which was how he had gotten so far and earned his nickname- Underworld’s Grim Reaper.
He didn’t know how long he had been staring at the terrace until you appeared and noticed him, waving at him and motioning him to come inside. He sighed deeply- there was another reason he was here.
He now knew why you seemed so familiar, why your voice shook him to the core the first time he heard you.
He had seen you in his dreams before he ever saw you.
He was positive about that- it sounded insane even to himself, but he was so sure, and it made absolutely no sense. But then he saw your mother the other day- he recognised her instantly from his dreams since she had a memorable face. And then, to top it off, she called you Kore.
There was no way, he had thought at that time, but then… he wondered if somehow, you knew as well.
But he couldn’t ask you that, he thought as he went upstairs after looking around for Wooyoung. He couldn’t ask you like this. Not when it made no sense to him. Not when he wasn’t ready for the answer.
“Is Wooyoung not here?”
“He went home a while ago,” you said, sipping from your coffee cup. “What brings you here at this hour- not for helping around, right?”
Seonghwa pursed his lips, taking a seat. “It’s a long story.”
You smiled, “I have some extra brewed coffee anyway. I think it was meant for you.”
When he had finally gotten a bit of coffee in his system, Seonghwa sighed for what had to be the tenth time. You were fidgeting with nervousness and anticipation now- it looked like he was going to tell you something big. “Come on- you look like you’re about to announce your divorce or something.”
“I don’t know,” he sighed, slumping back. “There’s a lot weighing on my mind, and I can’t really tell anyone.”
“I’m a good listener, and an even good secret keeper,” you told him.
“I don’t doubt that,” he laughed. “It’s just… it might be dangerous to share it with someone.”
“Is it about your case?” You asked and he gave you a look.
“You’re quick. Yes, it’s about my case- the same one that got me here with you right now.”
“Well, then I have a question for you,” you leaned forward, loving the challenge he was giving you. “Do you believe in coincidences?”
“I didn’t,” he thought about it, wondering if every meeting with you was just a plain big series of coincidences. “But now I’m wondering if I was wrong.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe everything happens for a reason. We encountered each other that day, perhaps, because you were meant to sit here right now-”
“Perhaps because we were meant to be-” Seonghwa glanced at you and you raised a brow. “Meant to meet,” he corrected. “That’s what you mean, right?”
“It’s up to you,” you relaxed back. “I don’t want to force you.”
Seonghwa wondered if he could tell you that he found you easy to talk to- in the past few days, he had visited a good few times. He got to learn little things about you and found himself drawn to you. “I’m only hesitating because it’s dangerous to know more than you should. Otherwise, I really like you. I really like talking to you.”
You nodded. “You know that I’ve lived a sheltered life with an overbearing mother, but Seonghwa… I’ve seen my fair share of horrors. I’m not easily rattled, not anymore.”
Seonghwa let that sink in- he always wondered where you got that edge from. He wasn’t sure he could ask. “The case I’m investigating is actually a case involving the top class of Sector 1- politicians, high ranking officials, influencers, you name it. They’re illegally trading drugs among themselves. They buy anyone with power and money.”
“Go on,” you urged.
Seonghwa shifted in his seat. “I’m being backed by Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceuticals. He’s providing me with manpower and connections, but… I’m afraid I’ll have to investigate him at one point too. I’m not sure who’s constantly threatening me- the people I’m investigating or the one who hired me, telling me to stay in my place.”
You whistled. “A double-edged sword?”
“Yeah,” he let out a nervous laugh. “So I’m wondering how I can keep track of my progress, where I can store evidence and important documents. My apartment’s been ransacked twice now. They also stole from me in broad daylight.”
“Hmm… No one would suspect you coming to the cafe to drink some coffee and meet your old friend, right?” You asked and Seonghwa shrugged. “You could use my office.”
“I… When I said that, I didn’t mean that you should give me a space-”
“No, think about it,” you ignored his protests. “Me and Wooyoung are already practically living here. I can give you the spare key to my office- you can come and go as you please and store whatever you need to. I won’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, I guess that could work.”
“And I know it’s too late to say this, but you should have backed out of this case when you first had the thought,” you said and he laughed in defeat. “It’s dangerous to back out now, isn’t it?”
“Very,” he confirmed. “But I don’t want to back out now either.”
You smirked at that. “Too late. Anyways, I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me.”
“I know I can,” he found himself saying.
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s something about your eyes.”
“It’s something about your eyes,” Hades tucked your hair behind. “I feel like I could trust you with my life.”
“But what if someone finds out because of me?” You looked down at your fingers, green with all the flower plucking Demeter had made you do as a punishment for being seen in public with Hades.
“Then I would know that it’s not your fault but mine,” Hades smiled sadly. “Because I got you involved.”
“What if someone finds out because of me?” You found yourself saying, feeling intense deja vu and you tried to gulp the feelings down.
However, Seonghwa had sucked his breath sharply as he heard that too. He watched you for a few moments before he said, “Then I would know that it’s not your fault but mine. Because I’m the one who got you involved.”
You accidentally dropped the pencil you had been fiddling with, leaning down to pick it up and gathering yourself in that moment. You cleared your throat. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Yeah…” Seonghwa shook his head, breaking the trance he was in. “I should go now- I’ll come by tomorrow with some stuff. Should I drop you off too?”
“There’s no need, I’ll get a taxi-”
“At this hour? I think not,” he poked your arm, urging you to move and you pouted as you picked your stuff. You told him the location- it was 10 minutes from the cafe. The ride was mostly silent as you both sorted your thoughts out. When you reached your apartment, you unbuckled the belt, halting when Seonghwa cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything. We just met recently, but… I’m glad I can trust you.”
You smiled. “Well then, we can work on that until you’re able to call me a friend.”
“You are,” Seonghwa laughed. “You know what I mean. Thank you, y/n. For everything.”
“It’s okay,” you nodded. “Just… stay safe, Seonghwa. It sounds dangerous and I really don’t like that you’re being chased around. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
It was a simple enough thing to say but it pulled at his heartstrings in the most unexpected way and he found himself tucking your hair behind your ear- he couldn’t help it- he had done that so many times in his dreams. However, he hadn’t expected you to basically stop breathing, and he realised his breath caught at the way you were looking at him too.
How were you so familiar yet so distant?
He patted your shoulder, nodding awkwardly. “I’ll try. Being safe, I mean.”
“Yeah,” you finally breathed. “Goodnight… Seonghwa.”
With that, you went upstairs to your apartment, glad Siyeon was sleeping because all you wanted to do was sink down in your bed and think of the way he had just tucked your hair-
Like he had done so a million times before.
Perhaps he had.
—--------------------
Seonghwa found himself coming to the cafe every other day, but he felt a bit guilty that he had to text you and ask the whereabouts of Wooyoung. He told himself that he was protecting his friend and that made him feel guilty because he might be putting you in danger, but you always assured him that it was okay.
It was an easy routine now- Wooyoung usually went home around 10 at night, which was when Seonghwa would drop by and sit in your office and do his work in silence. On the days when you were present, you would quietly come in and place some coffee and snacks on the desk. He didn’t hide anything from you but you didn’t want to intrude so you’d just leave and do something productive, finding it easier to get busy.
Tonight was one of those nights too. You had asked Wooyoung to take care of the other things while you did the painting, which was why he was out and about during the day, buying whatever you needed- you’d join him when it concerned you but since he was taking care of the kitchen, he was busier. You just needed to get the painting done so you could finally decorate and get the flower business started.
You began to think of the flowers back at home, of home, of your mother, of the house that almost felt like a prison and in several ways was, of the feelings of suffocation that still lingered-
You heard someone clear their throat and you looked up to see Seonghwa lingering in the doorway, passing you a tight-lipped smile and you looked down- you had been picking at your fingers- had he seen that? You got up and brushed your clothes.
“What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you had an extra marker,” Seonghwa said after a moment. “I couldn’t find it where you usually keep your stationery.”
“Ah, we must have run out- there might be one in the kitchen though, let me look for it.”
“It’s okay, I’ll look for it-”
“You’ll never be able to navigate through Wooyoung’s mess there,” you laughed and he grinned, finally relaxing. “I’ll be back.”
You went to the kitchen and after a few minutes, you were able to find a marker in one of the drawers. You went to your office and knocked at the already open door and Seonghwa urged you to come in. You noticed how he had pasted a few pictures and notes on your board, making a mind-map.
“Wow, that’s a lot,” you commented. “I hope it’s not so hard… what’s going on here?”
Seonghwa chuckled, pointing at the picture of a middle-aged man. “That’s Dr. Kwon of Wonderland Hospital Sector 1. That’s where the investigation began- apparently, Mr. Ahn got suspicious when Dr. Kwon stopped his business with KQ Pharmaceuticals, and Mr. Ahn wondered if he’s not buying from the best pharmaceutical company in Wonderland, who’s sponsoring him?”
“Ah, business rivalry at first, huh?” You said and he nodded. “So he started doing some digging?”
“Yeah, and he noticed that there was one specific drug that’s used for anaesthetic purposes that he wasn’t buying from any of the well-known companies. He has his ears everywhere, and he was quick to make a connection- that drug that the top class of Wonderland smokes, they call it ‘Mist’- it’s the same they’re using as anaesthesia in the hospital.”
“Oh,” you wowed, taking a moment to let that sink in. “That’s… intense.”
Seonghwa stifled his smile. “Now he just wants me to take down as many people involved as possible.”
“Why you?” You were curious.
“I’m called the Underworld’s Grim Reaper for a reason,” he smirked. “I won a big case a year ago too- probably caught Mr. Ahn’s attention.”
“It’s suspicious, though,” you went through his notes, looking at the pictures and frowning at a familiar face. “That he isn’t putting himself in the spotlight. Also, how is he involved?”
“You know him?” Seonghwa glanced at the picture you were holding. “That’s Mr. Jang, right?”
“From the Wonderland Art Museum, yes,” you confirmed. “He’s an acquaintance of my mother- we deliver flowers to him regularly. Is he involved in…”
“It seems so, but it’s only a suspicion right now,” Seonghwa sighed. “There’s no evidence of transactions- after all, the drug must cost something. I’m wondering if it’s not in the form of cash- which is why I’ll have to look into Mr. Jang’s paintings and who the real owners of those paintings are.”
You were still going through the pictures as you listened when you found a picture of a flower. “And what has this rare flower got to do with it?”
Seonghwa looked surprised. “You recognise this flower?”
“Of course I do. I’m a florist, Seonghwa,” you rolled your eyes.
“What do you know about this flower?”
“It’s one of the rarest flowers. It’s called the Middlemist Blue- wait,” you looked at the flower and then back at him. “This is the source of the drug?”
“Yes,” Seonghwa took the picture from you. “Where have you seen it?”
In my mother’s greenhouse.
“It’s very rare,” you attempted to sound normal but you were sure Seonghwa caught on. You sighed, taking a seat. “My mother found one a few years ago and since then, she’s been taking care of it and trying to reproduce it.”
“And was she successful?” Seonghwa dared to ask.
“Not that I’m aware of,” you shook your head, looking at him- for once, you felt scared. “Do you think she might be involved?”
“I can’t say- she isn’t the only one with that flower, though. There’s someone in Sector 8 who grows them too,” he said and you found yourself sighing in relief. “But… you understand that I’ll have to investigate her, right?”
You thought for a few moments- was this a big coincidence? Your mother did deliver flowers to Mr. Jang for display in his museum. What if she provided him with the Middlemist Blue as well? What if Mr. Jang really was involved in the Underworld’s drug dealing?
Seonghwa took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and caressing it. “You don’t have to think of the worst, y/n. I don’t think a mother who loves her daughter so much would do something that could harm her. The world doesn’t know that the Middlemist Blue can be used as a drug- that could mean that your mother is unaware. After all, she’s a florist, not a pharmacist, right?”
“Yeah, that’s true,” you took a deep breath. “But… Can you do me a favour and let me find out? With you?”
“It’s too dangerous-”
“Please,” you put a hand on his. “If it involves my mother… you understand why I have to, right? I could also help you with Mr. Jang’s involvement. We could do this together.”
Seonghwa thought about it. “You’re not doing anything on your own, okay? Don’t pull a move and make everyone around you suspicious.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I also don’t want you to confront your mother until I’m sure she’s the one supplying whoever’s involved. She could simply be keeping a rare flower safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
Seonghwa chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, making your smile change into surprise. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
You understood what he meant. “I know you’ll keep me safe.”
There it was again- another conversation he was sure he’d had with you. He patted your cheek. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?”
You nodded, finding yourself unable to draw away from him, and perhaps the spirit of Persephone possessed you for a moment as you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, making his eyes go wide in surprise. “Thank you for believing in me, Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa scanned your face, wanting to kiss you back but it took everything in him to simply smile and stand up to leave. He needed to clear his head, but most of all-
He needed to figure out just why he had been dreaming about you, and why the events of his dreams were playing out in the present.
—----------------------
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Seonghwa muttered as he pulled his cap further down and you groaned inwardly, taking it off and ruffling his hair, making him stop in his tracks. “What are you doing?”
“You’re looking too suspicious, Seonghwa,” you shook your head. “The mask and glasses are enough. You’re not a celebrity.”
“Might as well be,” he countered, pulling your hand and bringing you to the side when a bike passed by. “You should have disguised yourself too. My plan was better.”
“Mine is better, you’ll see,” you smiled at him and he thought you glowed in the sun. “Just a couple interested in art. What’s suspicious about that?”
It was a very basic plan- you wanted to go and check out the Wonderland Art Museum and see just how much your mother was involved- you were going to introduce yourself to Mr. Jang and you were bringing your ‘boyfriend’ with you. Seonghwa agreed to it because you insisted that you needed to learn just what your mother’s role was before he began investigating her, and for another reason-
Because you wanted to go out with Seonghwa, though you’ll never admit it out loud.
Interestingly, Seonghwa didn’t suggest someone else take his place or you go alone- it wasn’t uncommon to go alone. He had a few things he wanted to learn about you too, and he planned to find out today.
You both paused at the entrance, spotting yourselves in the reflecting glass- your lavender outfit was quite a contrast with his all black. The guards checked your ids, scanned you and allowed you to go inside and when Seonghwa exhaled loudly, you smacked his arm.
“Not subtle at all, Mr. Park.”
“I’m only teasing you,” he rolled his eyes as he laughed. “You think I haven’t done this? Sneaked in and gotten into trouble? More times than I can count.”
You made an impressed face and made your way to the display section, blown by the magnificent art pieces and the florals surrounding them. “Mother really put her heart and soul into this. No wonder she thought I couldn’t take over this job when I suggested that. My initial plan did fail for a reason.”
“You can go ahead and look at the flowers or whatever,” Seonghwa looked down at your still linked hands. “I’ll hang around and… observe. I need to check who the owners of these paintings are.”
“I think it’s better if we stick together- and you can lead the way. I don’t think I need to take a closer look at the flowers,” you shifted your hands so you were holding his arm now. “Better?”
Seonghwa glanced at you, gulping before he nodded. He wondered why he was so damn nervous around you. This wasn’t his first date-
Was he thinking of this as a date?
He led the way and you went from one art piece to another, observing for a few minutes. One of the guides answered whatever questions Seonghwa had. When you were at the heart of the display, Seonghwa finally asked what he wanted to. “What was your life like back at home?”
He noticed you tense for the smallest moment and he may have dismissed it had he not noticed you do that whenever someone talked about home. “Nothing much. Boring, if I have to say, but I have to credit my mother for all I am today.”
“Even the dark parts?” Seonghwa teased.
“Especially those,” you grinned at him, glad he was keeping it light. “She’s the only family I have- my father was never in the picture. She did what she had to.” He didn’t probe further, nodding slowly and guiding you to the next part, wondering just why your relationship with your mother was rocky. You asked him about his family.
“We’re a small family, but we’re close,” you could see his eyes curve and you bet he was smiling under the mask. “But when I look at you… I think you found a family here. The way you are with Siyeon and Wooyoung… it’s endearing.”
“Old friends are like family,” you smiled, agreeing. Seonghwa motioned towards the guards stationed near the far end- it had to be the office. “Should we take a closer look?”
“No, the guards might recognise me if Mr. Jang is involved,” he said, leading you to the other corner and you continued admiring the art while he looked at the office. “Can I ask why you wanted to open a cafe as a florist?”
“Well,” you thought about it. “I’ve practically lived with flowers. It’s what I’m best at and what I’m most confident about, though I started hating it a little when I felt like I hadn’t explored my options much. But when Wooyoung suggested opening up a cafe because he loved cooking for others… I think that’s when I looked at it differently.”
“What do you mean?”
“How do you think people look when they receive food or flowers? There’s not only happy occasions, but they’re both meaningful. To be a part of someone’s life or routine… I liked the idea of that. So we decided to partner up- Wooyoung gives the food and I give the flowers. It may sound stupid but-”
“No, it doesn’t,” Seonghwa insisted. “I heard somewhere, that even the darkest of places can be brightened by flowers, and even the darkest of humans can be moved.”
You narrowed your eyes at Seonghwa. You had, of course, heard that in your dream. “Where did you hear that- oh, look at that.”
Seonghwa followed your eyes to Mr. Jang going to his office room, followed by who had to be his secretary. He was about to turn away reflexively but you tightened your grip on his arm instead. “We’re going to his office.”
“We are not-”
“My mom sent a wine bottle for him, and I am simply delivering it on her behalf,” you motioned to the bag you were wearing which contained the gift and he rolled his eyes. “You can stay back if you want to-”
“No, I’ll come with you,” he said, looking like he was in pain.
You considered that. “Won’t he recognise you?”
“I think if he’s involved, it might shake him a little, seeing me with you,” Seonghwa was almost smirking. “That is, if your mother is involved too.”
“Ah… so you’re going to use me as bait? Noted,” you said and began to move forward and he laughed, grabbing your hand and stopping you but you pretended to be sour about it and made it to the office, letting him grab your hand when you knocked.
The secretary opened the door. “What business do you have?”
“I’m here from Eden Florals,” you said, “on behalf of the owner. She’s an acquaintance of Mr. Jang- she sent a gift for him.”
The secretary asked you to wait a moment and then let you in. You took out the gift first and then handed it to Mr. Jang with a bow. “I’m y/n from Eden Florals.”
“Of course,” Mr. Jang got up and shook hands with you. “I remember seeing a picture of you at your greenhouse when I went for a visit. You’re all grown up now!”
You smiled shyly. “My mother sends her regards. I’ve actually been wanting to visit your museum for quite a while ever since I moved to the city, but couldn’t get the chance.”
“And it seems like you did,” Mr. Jang glanced at Seonghwa.
“Yep,” you squeezed his hand, urging him to take his mask off. “This is my boyfriend, Seonghwa. He’s a fan of your work.”
“Nice to meet you,” Seonghwa said and you watched as Mr. Jang paused for a moment before shaking his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” he commented before sitting down. “You’re quite busy these days, I’ve heard.”
You pretended to be surprised. “Do you know each other?”
“Oh, didn’t he tell you?” Mr. Jang laughed. “He’s a very famous prosecutor around here. We’re all a little wary around him even when we’re clean as a slate.”
“That must mean he’s good at his job,” you passed a warm smile to Seonghwa and took a moment to look around. You found nothing suspicious at the first glance. “Well, I must get going now- sorry for taking so much of your time.”
“Oh, it’s alright. I hope you visit again. Send my regards to your mother too,” he said and you bowed before leaving the office, deciding to just exit the museum as well.
“So?” Seonghwa asked when you finally got out. “What do you think?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s involved- he looked more surprised to see you,” you thought. “I’m not sure about my mother though- what do you think?”
“I’m not so sure either,” Seonghwa inhaled deeply. “But I know for sure that he’s aware of what’s going on in the Underworld, at least.”
“Well then,” you paused, spotting a barbeque restaurant and feeling your stomach growl at the thought of food. “Shall we think about it over some food? My treat for dragging you along.”
“Shouldn’t we just go back?”
“Come on,” you elbowed him. “You said you wanted to live a little, right?”
Seonghwa gave you a look but urged you to lead the way and you stifled your grin as you entered the restaurant and gave your orders.
“You remembered that I said that,” he said after you both relaxed.
“Of course I did,” you shrugged, “We have that in common.”
“Is there something you want to do then?” Seonghwa rested his face on his hands, elbow propped on the table, looking casually at you. “I can’t figure you out. Sometimes you’re trying to dissolve in the background and then sometimes… you pull a bold move like you just did in Mr. Jang’s office.”
Before you could answer, the food arrived and you took that moment to think. “I could say a few things about you too, Prosecutor Park Seonghwa,” you teased and he groaned in amusement. “You seem miles away sometimes but then… you’re right here.”
Seonghwa raised a brow. “Are you talking about how I space out sometimes? Because I’ve been doing a lot of that ever since I met you. You make me confused.”
“Oh? How?” You asked, taking a bite of the meat.
“I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a madman so I’ll let you know some other time,” he promised and you made a face at that. “It’s also probably because you’re quite weird too-”
“I could say the same for you!” You laughed. “You talk to yourself when you’re working! I thought I was hearing things and then I thought you were on a call or something, but you were just arguing with yourself.”
Seonghwa hid his face. “I have to do that when I’m lost while I’m connecting the dots. And you! You stare into the space like you can actually see something! I passed by one time and thought you were possessed!”
You both had a good laugh over that. “We’re all strange in some ways,” you acknowledged. “Speaking of, did you find anything strange about the paintings?”
“Yeah, I’ve got someone on it,” he checked his phone. “I just need to check if Mr. Jang’s really the owner of those paintings that he claims are his, or if most of the owners are involved in this drug business. What are you going to do, though?”
“I think I should visit back home- when my mom is away. Ugh, I don’t know how I’ll work that part out, but I need her to be away if I want to confirm my suspicions.”
“You might be offended to hear this, but…” Seonghwa began and you urged him to continue. “Normally, someone would have refused to believe their mother was involved in something like this. Why are you entertaining the possibility, I’m wondering.”
You took a deep breath. “We’re not on the best terms, as you must have seen when she visited the cafe,” you looked at him and he nodded. “She’s… overprotective. Overbearing. And she wasn’t the best mother- she could have done a lot of things differently about parenting,” you let out a short laugh, sighing. “And anyways, the Middlemist Blue is very rare. I can pull out of this but I shouldn’t stop you from investigating.”
“I understand,” he looked a bit apologetic and you shook your hand in dismissal, pouring him a drink and changing the topic,asking him how he became friends with everyone you knew and how he got to where he was. After you were done eating, he took the bus with you which stopped near your cafe and decided to drop you off.
“You don’t need to, I can find my way,” you teased, the few drinks you had back there making you both more comfortable with each other, especially when you both had talked so much the whole day.
“You know my car is parked there, right?” He laughed and you pouted. “It was your idea of a ‘date’.”
“You liked it though,” you elbowed him and he grinned. “When should we plan our next date? Do you want to go somewhere else before we go to my town?”
“I didn’t realise I was coming with you there,” Seonghwa casually grabbed your arm and pulled you closer.
“Of course you are coming with me,” you glanced at him. “We have a nice view there. I’d really like to show you.”
“If you insist,” he scoffed, though he was pleased. “Is there anywhere you want to go then?”
“I asked you,” you poked his arm. “Come on. Spill.”
“Well… I think I’d really like to go to the beach. It’s been forever since I went.”
“That’s great. I haven’t gone in forever. We should all go together- I could ask Siyeon and Wooyoung-”
“We could all go together, but…” Seonghwa paused, turning to you. “I’d like it more if it was just the two of us.”
“Oh, really?” You were about to tease him but then it sank in. “Oh.”
Seonghwa smiled, taking your hand and walking the rest of the way to the cafe in silence while your heart thumped wildly. When you arrived, he turned to you once again.
“Thank you for today. It was fun and productive. I never thought it could be both.”
You shook your head. “Always thinking about work first. I still haven’t forgotten how you used me as bait-”
Seonghwa shut you up with a chaste kiss to your cheek, laughing when he noticed how surprised you were. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s- it’s okay, just took me by surprise,” you unconsciously touched where he had kissed you.
“Do you like it then? Should I do it again now that you’re-”
“Ah, you’re drunk,” you laughed, pushing him away when he tried to do it again. “Kiss me when your head is not in the clouds.”
Seonghwa pursed his lips, his gaze changing and you realised what you had said. “I think I might be drunk too. I should go back inside…”
“I’ll remember that for next time,” Seonghwa promised and you waved goodbye, heading inside and unable to stop smiling for a good few moments.
—----------------------
“It’s not how I imagined us to be,” you said, caressing his hair, his head resting on your lap. It looked like he had stars in his hair. “Everyone thinks you’re the villain- that you’ve brought me here by force. It wasn’t my intention to make you misunderstood-”
“It doesn’t matter, Persephone,” Hades sighed in pleasure. “As long as you’re with me and happy… it doesn’t matter what the world thinks of us.”
“But Hades,” you couldn’t shake off the feeling of impending doom. “Mother will do anything to get me back. She won’t settle for 6 months on Earth and 6 months in the Underworld deal. She might get your brothers on her side, and then-”
Hades pulled away, sitting in front of you. “Did you know what would happen if you ate those pomegranate seeds?” You nodded and he continued. “You chose to do this. Will you choose to be by my side when everyone thinks I manipulated you into doing so?”
“Of course I will. I’m doing it now,” you pointed out and Hades smiled. “You’re the first person who saw me for who I truly was, and accepted me. You made me the Queen of Underworld and offered me whatever I wanted. I want to be with you, Hades. I don’t want to go back to Earth.”
Hades tucked his finger under your chin to make you look at him as he said, “You’re also the Goddess of Spring. You brought life to the Underworld- look around,” he glanced at the once dead forest that now bloomed with flowers of all sorts, bloomed with life. “I never thought it could be warm here- warm here too,” he touched his heart. “And you’re also the first one to look past the monster everyone has made me to be.”
With that, he leaned forward and kissed you in such a gentle manner that you wondered how he still managed to stay alive all alone in the cold Underworld. You kissed him back with the promise that he would never have to feel cold again. Hades was surprised when you kissed him back, because for a moment he wondered if he had made a mistake, if he had been too hasty- but when you climbed in his lap to kiss him deeper and his arms wound around your waist, he knew that he had fallen for you ages ago.
~
You woke up with a groan, your muscles aching and you found that you had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room. You rubbed your eyes, hearing water run- Siyeon must be showering. With a sigh, you got up and decided to make breakfast, cracking eggs and frying them, turning the coffee machine on-
And pausing in the middle of flipping eggs when the memory of the dream came back. You poked your tongue in your cheek, resuming the frying and scoffing at the memory- Hades kissing Persephone.
Seonghwa kissing you.
You cursed under your breath- it felt too real. You could feel butterflies in your stomach- or maybe it was because you already had a thing for Seonghwa. You had to admit that you did, especially with the conversation a few nights ago when he had kissed you on the cheek and you had asked him to kiss you again when he was sober.
You had met Seonghwa after that, but he had been a bit busy so he only said hi or made small talk when he stopped by at your cafe, both of you waiting for the day your mom would leave town which would be the weekend, you found out thanks to Siyeon. You both were pretending that conversation didn’t happen and things were pretty normal, if you had to say-
“Gosh, you scared me. Why are you smiling like a fool?”
You snorted, setting the table and sitting across Siyeon. “Just had a silly dream.”
“I had one too,” Siyeon laughed. “I was running away from a giant chicken. I think I should stop eating too much chicken…”
“Do you believe in coincidences, though?” You wondered out loud. “Like… do you think we can foresee things in our dreams?”
Siyeon raised a brow at the sudden change of tone. “I think I read something about that once. That sometimes we can actually foresee things. It’s pretty rare though, and most of the time it’s our mind making up scenarios.”
“But like, what if you’ve been foreseeing things for a while?” You leaned forward.
“I don’t know,” Siyeon shrugged. “Are you?”
“Not really,” you shrugged back. “Just wondering.”
You wanted to tell her that you saw Seonghwa in your dreams so many times before you met him, but… would she believe it? Even if she did, she’d think you were crazy. You couldn’t blame her for that- anyone would think you were crazy.
“You look like you have been having trouble sleeping, though,” Siyeon commented.
“Yeah, I haven’t had good sleep in a while,” you rubbed your face. “I’m going to go change.”
Before Siyeon could ask more, you were off to your room. After getting ready, she dropped you at the furniture store where Wooyoung was already waiting for you. He had picked a few options and you both went through the designs, choosing round wooden tables and comfortable cushion chairs in light pink colour for the cafe- you were pleased by how it looked in your mind so far.
“I think Hongjoong’s idea of a vintage theme really stuck to me. This is going to look perfect,” you pointed at some old frames.
“Get anything you want- I’m ready to spoil you,” Wooyoung nodded. “Just remember the budget. We spared a lot since you’re painting yourself.”
“Yeah, I just need to get some paints now,” you put your hands in your coat pocket as Wooyoung filled the receipt. “Brown and white should be okay, huh?”
“Yeah,” he was done. “Let’s look at the curtains next?”
You spent the good part of the afternoon shopping as much as you both could, getting lunch in between and making a timeline of when you needed to get things done and started. Wooyoung was busy with his cooking classes but you were mostly free so you were going to paint. He said he would ask the boys to give you a hand but you declined, saying it was something you’d prefer to do by yourself and you would be calling them anyway when you would need to decorate and set the furniture.
You got a text from Seonghwa when Wooyoung was about to drop you back at the cafe.
Hi. Can you meet me at the intersection near the cafe? I’m passing by and need to hand you some documents- I’m meeting someone and I can’t risk taking them along.
If you’re not busy, that is.
If you’re busy, I’ll just hide them in my office.
You smiled at the texts and Wooyoung glanced at you. “Already have a boyfriend?”
“No, it’s not that,” you groaned. “Can you drop me off at the intersection instead?”
“Meeting someone?” Wooyoung teased after agreeing. “I gotta see who it is.”
“Gosh,” you knew Wooyoung wasn’t going to back out so you gave in. “It’s only Seonghwa. He needs to give me something.”
“Seonghwa?” Wooyoung scoffed. “When did you two become so close?”
You suddenly felt guilty for not telling Wooyoung and Siyeon anything about Seonghwa yet. “We’re not that close. He’s just using my office to hide a few important documents because his house got ransacked twice- the case he’s working on. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
Wooyoung made an impressed face. “He’s trusting you with that?”
“You know I’m good at hiding things,” you teased and he laughed, recalling that one time you were fourteen and bought a phone and hid it from your mother for about a year until she found out and gave you hell for it.
He dropped you off with a promise that you’d give him more details and you waved goodbye, spotting Seonghwa at the far end near a shop. You went to him and he apologised for making you come out when you were busy.
“I was just heading back to the cafe- I was out running errands with Wooyoung,” you told him, taking the USB and putting it in the inside pocket of your coat. “I’m interested to hear why you think this could be stolen.”
“It’s crucial information… and I don’t want to be careless,” he looked around, running a hand through his hair and your stomach swooped when your mind decided to flash back that one scene from your dream where you were running a hand through his hair instead- “And I think I have a tail, which is why I didn’t stop by the cafe too much. I need to find out who it is this time.”
“Oh,” you pursed your lips. “I’ll hide it well then.”
“I’m sure you will,” he smiled, checking the time. “I’ve got to go. See you later?”
“See you,” you saluted, going backwards where you came from. You took two turns down the street when you felt eyes on you and you turned around, catching a shadow hide behind a pole- since it was getting dark, you couldn’t see well, but-
If Seonghwa had a tail, it was possible they were following you now.
Which meant there was no way in hell you could go back to the cafe.
You decided to go to the convenience store instead, taking another turn. You took out your phone and used the screen and the lights to see if anyone was actually following you or you were just being anxious-
There was someone. And he was close.
You unlocked your phone and texted Seonghwa: I have a tail and he’s following me rn. You called him next.
“Wooyoung! Did you see my text? I sent you the receipt of the furniture.”
“Uh, it’s Seonghwa-”
“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “Can you just take a look and see if it’s the right one?”
“Is anyone following you right now?”
“Yep,” you attempted to sound cheerful because you were pretty sure whoever was behind you could hear you. You decided to stay where it was crowded, though. At least he wouldn’t attempt something in the middle of a crowd, right?
“Oh goodness. Where are you?”
“Dinner? I think I’ll just have ramen at the convenience store.”
“Got it. Stay safe- don’t run. Stay around people, okay? I’m coming.”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” you said. “Aren’t you busy?”
“Stay on call, okay?” Seonghwa said and you could hear his breath sound like he was running. He had to be on foot now- you glanced around casually, noticing the man behind you properly now- he was wearing a face mask and a cap.
Someone was starting to suspect you, it seemed. They couldn’t see you with Seonghwa.
“I don’t want to be seen with you, Wooyoung,” you almost scolded. “People will have the wrong idea.”
“Now is not the time to play games, y/n,” Seonghwa sighed. “I can see you- cross the street and when it gets busy, go to the backside of the convenience store. He’s a good distance behind you so if we run, we could lose him.”
“Got it. Bye,” you said and put your phone in your pocket, taking a deep breath and waiting for the signal to turn green, an old couple near you. You casually looked around- the man was indeed hanging around a few feet away.
You crossed the road with the couple, and after taking a sharp turn you started running when you spotted Seonghwa. He grabbed your hand and led you to an old building, exiting from the front and then going to another building, following him in the darkness and swallowing your panic until you made a stop at a parking lot.
“I think we’ve lost him,” he looked around. “You definitely had a tail-”
You sighed loudly in relief, your knees going weak and Seonghwa was quick to hold you against him, making you rest your head on his chest- you could hear his wildly thumping heart as well. Seonghwa chuckled in disbelief, patting your back. “I got you.”
“I was so scared for a moment back there,” you said as you finally looked up at him and he scanned your face, looking apologetic.
“I was more scared,” Seonghwa found himself tucking your hair behind. “I could see who's following you. I had to do something- I couldn’t simply wait and watch.”
You leaned into his touch, surprising him but then he brought you into a hug and you didn’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his waist. He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. I never should have asked that from you- I shouldn’t have let you do this alone. I don’t even know how they figured out-”
“It’s okay- I would have done it anyway,” you only hugged him tighter. “Besides, I was smooth. I’ve got it,” you broke the hug and patted your pocket that held the USB. “You should hire me. I think I might be a natural at this.”
Seonghwa laughed at that. “I think that’s tempting,” he licked his lips as he looked at you. “Let’s get out of here.”
He drove you home and insisted that you stay there for the rest of the day, just to be on the safe side. He made a call to cancel his meeting as well. When you arrived at the apartment, you offered him to come inside for dinner.
“I’m feeling chicken and beer now,” you said, getting out of the taxi and waiting for him. “A little company would be nice.”
Seonghwa pondered for a moment before following you out. “Isn’t this where Siyeon lives as well?”
“She won’t be home until 11 tonight,” you said, leading the way inside. He took off his shoes, looking around.
“Neat,” he commented. “I thought Siyeon’s place would look more like a dungeon.”
“It did,” you laughed. “Before I moved in. She’s better now.”
Seonghwa laughed at that and you took out the USB. “Should I just hide it here? It’s better to keep important things scattered, right?”
“Maybe, yes,” he thought for a moment. “I’ll just make a few copies of it.”
You sat down with Seonghwa on the couch, putting on whatever drama was airing and watching Seonghwa make copies on his laptop, handing you the original one to hide, which you did in a random jar in the kitchen that you were sure no one else would touch. Seonghwa was impressed. “I should have hid things in the kitchen too.”
“Doesn’t work everytime,” you told him and he shut his laptop and put it aside. The chicken arrived and you found yourselves absorbed in casual discussion, from the case to how he became a prosecutor to your family.
“We’re going this weekend, by the way,” you reminded him, having finished eating about half an hour ago and just relaxing with beer now. “You’re free for the day, right?”
“I am,” he confirmed and you scanned him- head resting on his hand, arm propped on the couch, sitting very comfortably on the floor. You could imagine him as Hades. Was it really a past life you were seeing or were you possessed? There was no way you were the goddess of spring and he the king of the underworld, but…
With your present occupations, you were beginning to doubt if it really made no sense.
“You’re staring, y/n,” he commented, his voice deeper. “What are you thinking?”
You gulped unconsciously. “Sorry. Just got lost for a moment.”
“I want to know what you’re thinking,” he pouted uncharacteristically and you laughed, taking the beer can away from him.
“Don’t tell me you’re drunk again!” You teased.
“I’m pretty sober right now,” he insisted and you narrowed your eyes at him, but he didn’t budge. “I also remember a promise I made for when I was sober-”
“Oh, please,” you looked away, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and he smiled at that.
“Do I make you nervous, y/n?” he asked, taking your hands away when you hid your cheeks and pulling them in his lap. “I’m sorry for today. I really wish you would stop involving yourself anymore.”
“Not this again,” you squeezed his hand. “We’re fine. We’re here. That’s all that matters- you know I can’t back out now anyway.”
He looked at you. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It could get worse now.”
“Well, I want you to pull out too. I want to keep you safe, but it seems like we can’t get everything that we want…” you shrugged and he felt warmth inside after hearing that. “Now can you stop looking at me like this?”
“Like what?” He teased and pulled you closer, taking you by surprise, your face inches away. “Like this?”
His gaze dropped to your lips and you felt butterflies, unable to look away, your own gaze dropping at his plump lips now parted. He ran his thumb over your lower lip, patting your cheek before drawing away but you took his hand and pulled him back, taking him by surprise.
“You haven’t kept your promise,” you said.
“I don’t think I’m fully sober,” he replied.
“Does it look like I care about that?”
There it was- your gaze changing, your persona changing. He absolutely loved it when you got playful like this, and he wasn’t going to miss this chance. He smiled, leaning forward and hesitating before he kissed your cheek, lingering there for a moment. However, when he saw you with your eyes still shut, he couldn’t help but take it a step further, brushing his lips across yours as if asking for permission and you took the next step, pecking his lips and then drawing back as if you had been caught doing something.
“Y/n,” he groaned before he cupped your face and kissed you properly, moving his lips along yours, your hands holding his wrists tightening with every second and then he drew back for a breath. You moved closer, propping yourself in his lap and he felt deja vu, his arms going around your waist as you cupped his face and kissed him deeper.
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to feel this, but you felt like you were doing something absolutely right- you somehow knew where to touch him, where to hold him, how to kiss him- you already knew the planes and curves and edges of his face as you traced it while you kissed him, and you felt like you belonged there. Somehow, that thought made you feel overwhelmed and you broke the kiss, caressing his face as you looked him in his eyes.
“Don’t you feel like we’ve been here before, Seonghwa?”
Seonghwa thought he was hearing things, but he nodded. “I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”
You smiled at that, pecking his lips again. “Then I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
Seonghwa caressed your arms and you buried your face in his neck, wanting to feel closer, hugging him tightly. He hugged you back and held you for a long time before his phone vibrated and he came back to reality.
“I should get going before Siyeon comes. She’ll raise hell,” he laughed and you grinned.
“See you on the weekend then?” You asked. It was only two days away.
“Maybe you’ll see me before that too,” he smiled, taking his stuff and you walked him out. Before you could leave, he kissed you on your forehead.
“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” He said and you nodded, watching him leave, lovestruck.
—-----------------------------
You barely had the strength to move right now, but even if you did, there wasn’t any other place you would rather be, for you were home in the arms of your husband, the King of the Underworld.
Your king.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this…” he sighed. His voice sounded weary and you glanced up to meet his eyes- he looked beyond tired. “I wish I could take your pain.”
“We saw it coming, my love,” you buried your face in his neck. “One day or another, the mortals are going to forget us- we knew that. We knew we would dissipate into moths or flowers when that time came. And we are so brave to face it together- unlike the others who ended themselves.”
“I don’t like seeing you in pain though,” he insisted. “You could go to Styx. You could end this too-”
“Are you that miserable to be with me?” You teased and he laughed. You marvelled at how young his laugh sounded.
“Of course not. All I’ve ever wanted was to die in your arms.”
Your heart tugged at that- you had spent an indefinite time with Hades but when he said things like that, you felt like you were experiencing something new.
“Do you want to make a wish, then?” You asked. “Don’t tell me you’ve used the wish we got from Hestia.”
“I don’t think it’s any use now. She’s as weak as us, if not more.”
“But we could try- if we have the same wish.”
Hades tugged your chin up. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking… that this is the end, but I’d like to meet you in another life.”
“I’d like that too,” he nodded.
“Shall we wish to be reincarnated as mortal lovers then?”
“Why mortal lovers? Their lives are short and meaningless.”
“But,” you sighed dreamily. “But they know that, and still love with all their might. I’d like to have that with you once again.”
Hades smiled at that- he couldn’t have thought of something better. “Well then… let’s make that wish.”
~
“Well…” you got off the bus that stopped at the town where your home was. “This is it.”
Seonghwa put his hands in his pockets as he looked at the cloudy sky over the hills, the air feeling cleaner than usual. “It’s beautiful here.”
“It is,” you smiled and Seonghwa thought there was something sad about your smile. You walked side by side, following the track that led to your house. Seonghwa made small talk but he felt like there was something weighing on you- something else other than the fact that your mother could be involved in the biggest drug scandal in the history of Wonderland, so he let the silence take over until you reached the cottage house.
“Do you want to have some tea before we investigate?” You asked and he nodded, eager to see this part of your life. You unlocked the door and let him in and he looked around.
“It looks cosy but why is it so cold?” He shivered.
You smiled faintly. “It’s always been like this.”
You asked him to get comfortable and went to the kitchen, smiling at the pictures of your childhood hanging by the fireplace. When you came back, he asked you about the backstory of those pictures and you told him- first day of school, first broken tooth, first day at college and more. You showed him your room and he boasted how he would guess your room anywhere if he saw it- he was very familiar with your vibe now.
“And that’s my mom’s room, if you’re up for snooping,” you said and went inside.
“Very minimalistic,” he observed. “I don’t know what to look for, actually. You can do the snooping. I’m kind of scared of her.”
You chuckled at that, going through her drawers and the bookshelf, asking Seonghwa to check if there were hidden compartments in the room. However, you found nothing.
“She’s not that simple, my mother,” you said as you made sure everything was in place before exiting the room. “We should check her private greenhouse. She may have something there.”
“Do you have all her keys?” Seonghwa asked and you nodded. “I don’t think she’ll keep something like that where you could access it.”
“I think otherwise,” you glanced at him. “We’ve been playing cat and mouse for years now,” you told him as you unlocked her greenhouse, shivering a little as a few bad memories flashed in your mind. “I think this is where she’ll keep it, and then she’ll test me.”
Seonghwa didn’t say anything, just watched you as you went around and zoned out, staring at the far end corner. He decided to give you some space but after a few minutes, he found you still staring at the same spot.
He walked to you and gently put his arms around your waist in a back hug and felt you finally relax. “Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah,” you cleared your throat. “Just some bad memories here.”
“You wanna talk about it?” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you smiled faintly- you had missed this. You caressed his hands as you looked ahead.
“She used to lock me up here when I misbehaved, and I wasn’t the most well-behaved kid as a child,” you let out a short laugh. “I learned to love the dark. It worked until she found out I wasn’t scared anymore.”
“Oh, y/n,” he hugged you tighter. “You don’t have to pretend to be okay anymore.”
You pursed your lips, not wanting to cry so you turned around and let him sway you in a hug until you felt better. He sighed. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come here if I knew.”
“I needed to come here one day or another,” you shrugged. “And I’m glad you’re the one with me.”
Seonghwa caressed your cheek, kissing you deeply and hugging you again. “You’re really strong, you know that?”
You smiled, breaking the hug. “Thank you. I’m just pretending to be.”
Seonghwa smiled back, tucking your hair. “We all are, aren’t we?”
You nodded, spotting the familiar flower behind him. “That’s the Middlemist Blue. They’re more than I expected.”
Seonghwa turned around and found a few pots of the very rare flower. “It feels unreal to see it here. Do you think she’s only trying to keep this flower from going extinct, or…”
“I’ll look around- I really can’t say,” you bit your lip, going through the cupboards until you found a locked drawer. “What do you think she keeps here?”
“I don’t want to guess,” he admitted. “No key?”
“Let’s break it?”
“No, we don’t want to leave traces,” he said, glancing at your head. “Bobby pins?”
“Oooh,” you grinned, taking the pins out of your hair. “Don’t tell me you know how to do that.”
“I’ve learned a few tricks in my field- though one would question if I’m really doing something morally right,” he began unlocking the drawer. “I say as long as it’s serving a good purpose, you’re allowed to do something like this.”
“Wow,” you said as it unlocked and he flicked his hair proudly, making you stick out your tongue before you opened the drawer to examine the contents. You found her old pictures, a few of your father, and some receipts that you handed to Seonghwa.
“So she is providing the Middlemist Blue to Mr. Jang,” he went through the receipts. “Question is- is she keeping these because she’s involved directly in the drug dealing, or because she suspects something and is keeping proof?”
“Yeah, because she wouldn’t keep the receipts in this drawer unless they meant something important,” you nodded.
“But these date only a year ago,” Seonghwa observed. “Did Mr. Jang change his provider or did she only start suspecting foul play?”
“I guess only she could answer that,” you took pictures of all the receipts. “You’ll have to call her as a witness now, right?”
“I suppose, yes. I’ve found some other things too, but it’s better to call her privately and discuss it,” he looked sorry and you told him it was okay. You locked the drawer back and exited the greenhouse, taking a deep breath and turning to Seonghwa. “Do you want to go to my comfort place to get some food? I wanna show you the lake too before we go back.”
Seonghwa agreed- the day had been tense and he wanted to make the atmosphere between you two light again. You took him to the restaurant by the lake where you had some seafood. You walked around, now comfortably joking about stuff and making small talk until you reached the quietest spot around the lake next to the stream.
“I used to come here when I needed to be alone,” you settled down on the grass. “Never thought I’d bring someone here, much less a prosecutor who’s investigating my mother.”
“Please, can you stop joking about that already,” he laughed painfully, settling down next to you. “Tell me what you like about this place.”
“Well,” you looked up at the stars in the sky. “That. The sound of water. The dirt,” you patted the ground. “The peace this place provided. I felt disconnected here, as if I belonged to another world and was simply a visitor here.”
“Interesting,” he looked up as well. “I like the night sky too. Especially the moon. I feel at home here.”
You glanced at him- you’d heard that before, in a dream. You realised you had said the same thing as Persephone too. Seonghwa looked at you cautiously as well, swallowing the questions down but still daring to ask, “Do you dream when you sleep?”
“Don’t we all?” You frowned at how cryptic he sounded.
“I dream of another life sometimes,” Seonghwa decided to play it safe. “I dream that I’m all alone and cold in another world, until someone comes and puts life in me, around me.”
You felt your heart sink- could it be?
“I dream too,” your voice was quiet. “That I’m misunderstood and confined until someone frees me and takes me to another world where I can make my own choices. Where I can be free and not have to pretend to be someone else.”
Seonghwa and you both stared at each other, each lost as they tried to fit the pieces together. “Have you heard the story of Hades and Persephone, y/n?”
As soon as he said that, you almost lost your balance in disbelief. It couldn’t be a coincidence this time, could it?
You had one shot. You had to play it right.
“I’ve heard many versions,” you said cautiously and found his puzzled gaze confusing. “But… I believe in the one that I dream of.”
“No way,” Seonghwa breathed, turning to you. “What does the Underworld need?’”
It was impossible, but you found yourself leaning forward and caressing his cheekbone, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“‘It needs a touch of spring’.”
Seonghwa couldn’t believe his ears. He watched you laugh in disbelief as well. “Don’t tell me you’ve been dreaming about Persephone too, Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa scoffed, looking up helplessly. “You’ve been dreaming about Hades?”
“I saw you before I ever met you, can you believe that?” You said and he held your hands, squeezing them. “I thought I was crazy.”
“I thought I was crazy- especially when I knew what your mother looked like before I saw her, and then I heard her call you Kore- I couldn’t believe my ears, I- this is unbelievable,” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “Am I dreaming right now?”
“I don’t think so,” you breathed. “If you’re Hades and I’m Persephone… what are we supposed to do, Seonghwa?”
Seonghwa shut his eyes, letting himself relax fully for the first time now that he knew he wasn’t alone. He heard you sniff and opened his eyes, finding your face wet with tears. “What’s wrong, love?”
“I don’t know what to do, Seonghwa,” you let him wipe your tears away. “I missed you. I’ve yearned for you my whole life, and when I saw you that day? I thought I was insane. I don’t know how I managed to hold myself back, but oh, goodness, I feel like I’ve waited an eternity to be with you-”
Seonghwa kissed your lips, taking you by surprise but you kissed back as eagerly as he was, clinging on to each other as if that could wipe the distance of aeons away. He found himself kissing your temple, your forehead, the places he used to kiss the most as Hades, and he let you run your hands through his hair like you always did. You let him get on top of you, not caring if anyone could see- it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now, except that you had finally found him.
He broke apart, resting his head at the crook of your neck, kissing your exposed skin lazily and you thought you could dissolve right in the ground. “You need to tell me everything.”
“Well…” you laughed, still finding the whole situation unbelievable. “Shall we find a place to stay the night then? I don’t think we can go back to my house…”
“Let’s go back to Sector 1- you can stay at my place… if you want to.”
“Of course, I don’t mind,” you smiled and decided to waste no more time.
Throughout the bus ride, you shared your stories- the first dream you had, when you had it, how it changed when you met each other. When you got to his place and had a few drinks (and a few kisses), you managed to sketch a timeline.
“So Persephone- or Kore, Demeter’s daughter,” you began, “didn’t know she was a goddess. She thought she was an ordinary flower nymph, but she had something else in her- she could make the flowers… die?”
“Sort of,” Seonghwa agreed. “I think she had anger issues.”
You gave him a look and he grinned. You sighed. “So she might have caused some destruction but Demeter always hid her from the world. That’s an awful lot like my mother. Anyways, one day she was panicking by the lake when Hades found her.”
“He said she called for him,” Seonghwa recalled. “Fitting how we found each other by the lake again, huh?”
You considered that, nodding. “So he offers her his company. Why?”
“He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him,” Seonghwa rubbed his chin. “And he found her powers interesting too.”
“So Persephone calls for him again- or he comes by- did he stalk her? Anyways, they talk a lot and get to know each other. Persephone realises Hades is not the cold monster everyone has made him to be. Hades realises she’s not the good girl she pretends to be.”
“I don’t think he stalked her,” Seonghwa pouted and you laughed. “Even if he did… I didn’t.”
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “The events are somewhat similar to what’s happening in our lives now, right? You’re still the King slash Grim Reaper of the Underworld. I’m still a floral goddess. So the question is… why are we having these dreams? Are we a part of an experiment? Or is it simply fate playing games with us? Were we really Hades and Persephone in our past lives?”
“Do you remember that dream?” Seonghwa looked at you. “We were powerless and old. When people started forgetting us, we started fading.”
You raised a brow at how he was now referring to the entities as yourselves. “And then we made a promise to stay by each other’s side, and-”
“And made a wish. What was the wish, y/n?”
You felt as if you’d been dumped with cold water. “To be reincarnated as mortal lovers.”
Seonghwa smiled, “I don’t think we have to think too much then. We got what we wished for, it seems.”
You caressed his hand. “Do you think we only met each other because we’re Hades and Persephone?”
“I don’t care about that, but one thing I know for sure,” he looked into your eyes, eager to erase any doubts you had. “I fell for you in this life because of who you are today. I don’t care if we’re Hades and Persephone, if we’re meant to be or whatever. I know for sure that I would have liked you even if we were not.”
“Gosh, you say that but you’re still as cringy as Hades,” you laughed, making him groan. You scooted closer to him on the couch, letting your hand travel to the nape of his neck. “Well … I like you for just you too. I like Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I wanted to be sure that the old feelings weren’t messing with me, but you’re right. We’re really meant to be if we like each other for who we are today.”
“But you know what I like better?” Seonghwa’s gaze was hot as he traced your lips. “I know you- not the basics, but I know in my heart what you like,” he let his hands travel down the curve of your neck, satisfied when you shivered involuntarily. “And I’ve wanted to do this for a long, long time.”
He took your lips in a kiss, swiping his tongue along them and you immediately opened up for him, letting his tongue explore your mouth, the memories of it tugging at the back of your mind. You positioned yourself on top of him, arms around his neck, his hands on your waist as he kissed you passionately and you let your hips roll once, making him groan into the kiss and break apart.
“You’re not the only one,” you said and Seonghwa sucked in his breath at how dark your gaze was. “I remember it all too well. You were the King of the Underworld, and I was your Queen. This-” you looked down at your bodies. “This was my throne. You were cold and mysterious to the world, but for me, you were vulnerable and warm,” you smiled, curling your hands in his hair and leaning in to whisper in his ear-
“And I liked your hair longer.”
Seonghwa laughed deeply at that, shaking his head and letting you pepper kisses where he liked- along his jaw, on his nose, and then on his lips, which quickly turned heated, extra layers of clothes off and bodies as close as possible. Every brush of the skin and every kiss felt heightened, now that you both remembered what you had found and what you had lost. And there was no hesitation in your actions now. You had never been more sure about anything.
He was the one for you.
—----------------------
“I can’t believe you could suspect me of something like this,” your mother glared at you and you felt heat creep up your cheeks but Seonghwa’s hand on your thigh made you feel better.
“She’s not suspecting you, ma’am. She’s just trying to keep you safe,” Seonghwa’s tone was hard and you felt a bit proud of how he was standing up for you despite panicking earlier because he was very scared of your mother- he had the memories of Demeter to blame.
Seonghwa had allowed you to call your mother to your cafe for a private discussion first, now that he had conclusive evidence- but he wasn’t telling you right now, insisting he needed to hear your mother’s statement as well. You were thankful for that and he told you it was the least he could do for you.
“I’m doing this for your sake, whether you believe it or not,” you sighed. “You just need to tell me if you really know what Mr. Jang and the others are doing with the Middlemist Blue.”
“He’s always been interested in flowers,” your mother replied, tucking her hair back in her bun. “So when he showed interest in that rare flower and offered a high price for me to reproduce it, I didn’t suspect anything. I would have done that sooner or later anyway.”
“But did you know that the Middlemist Blue can be used as a hallucinogen?”
“Not at all,” she shook her head firmly. “I didn’t, until… until a year ago when I heard something suspicious- Mr. Jang was talking to his friend, saying something about a flower that makes him see another world. I overheard him talk about how he needed to find another source for the flower too. That’s when I started to keep the receipts- he found out that I suspected him and threatened me, but I was smarter. I told him if something happened to me… my daughter would expose the details to the world.”
You frowned. “Your plan was good but I had no idea- you never told me anything.”
“I didn’t know how to, and I didn’t want to involve you in something dangerous,” she pursed her lips. “They could have hurt you.”
You bit your lips as you thought. “So that’s it? You’ve been keeping track of his receipts?”
“I was trying to find a way to get out of this mess, but then I saw you,” she looked at Seonghwa and he straightened. “Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I wondered why he sounded familiar.”
You and Seonghwa looked at each other. Seonghwa asked, “Why?”
“You were investigating the case,” she scoffed in amusement. “And you were by my daughter’s side. I thought you approached her because you were suspecting me. Is that true?”
“Of course not,” Seonghwa said before you could. “We have mutual friends. We met each other by chance.”
“Whatever you say,” she shrugged. “Are you done interrogating me?”
Seonghwa took a deep breath. “I’ll provide witness protection to you- you can stop providing Mr. Jang with the flowers now. I know you weren’t directly involved, I just needed to hear it from you. I do have to ask you, though… how do you know Mr. Ahn?”
Your mother tensed at that. “What’s that got to do with any of this?”
You frowned at the sudden change of her tone and Seonghwa looked at you before saying, “Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceutical frequents your place a lot, doesn’t he?”
“What has my private life got to do with this case?” She practically seethed and you raised a brow in realisation.
“Don’t tell me you’re dating him?” You scoffed. “I knew you were seeing someone, I just didn’t realise who… wait-” you looked at Seonghwa. “Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceuticals?”
“Thank you for cooperating, ma’am,” Seonghwa got up and bowed. “I think you should also stop seeing Mr. Ahn for a while. I’ll be issuing an arrest warrant for him tonight.”
Your mother gasped in realisation and you stood confused, wondering just what was going on. However, she stood up and straightened after a moment. “I should have known. No one’s interested in a mere florist- not a man of his standing.”
“Don’t be too disappointed- not everyone is like that,” Seonghwa had a faint smile as he took your hand and caressed it, making you jump- you hadn’t told your mother anything about Seonghwa yet, and she was quick to notice. She only smiled knowingly.
“I’ll catch up with her later, but you-” she pointed a finger at Seonghwa, sighing. “You better do a good job at catching those assholes, and my daughter better not get hurt.”
“I’ll make sure of that,” Seonghwa nodded.
“Can I have a moment with you, Kore?” She asked and you nodded, going outside with her. She sighed deeply, looking at you with fondness, which was rare, but perhaps this time, you had earned it.
“I would have scolded you but… I’m glad he’s smart,” she grinned and you laughed nervously as well. She patted your cheek. “Come visit me soon. I’ll have no company now.”
“I’m sorry about Mr. Ahn…” you hesitated but she rolled her eyes.
“I should have known better-”
“No. You couldn’t have guessed,” you assured her, patting her arm awkwardly. “It’s okay. You should come by more often too. Wooyoung’s mother misses you. You and Siyeon’s mother should all hang out or something.”
“Open this place soon then,” she said. “We’ll gather here.”
You watched her leave until Seonghwa came by your side. “I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but… I had to respect her privacy too.”
“You did the right thing,” you nodded. “I’m not sure how Mr. Ahn is involved.”
“I don’t know whether he really likes your mother or he used her, but… the company that’s been creating the drug is his too. He set it up to put his rivals behind bars- he purposely disturbed the peace. He pretended to be fazed by the loss when Dr. Kwon of Wonderland Hospital Sector 1 stopped using his products, and he used that to create a drug scandal, tempt the people of power with the drug and then put them behind bars. He must have felt like a god, using everyone like that in his game.”
“Wow… that’s a lot,” you whistled. “How did you find that out?”
“Mr. Jang and I struck a deal,” he smirked and you gasped in realisation. “We decided to help each other out a little. When I told him there was a possibility that Dr. Ahn was behind all of this, he was all ears. I’ll have to cut him some slack though, where I can.”
“Wicked,” you grinned. “So what’s next?”
“I’ll be prosecuting Mr. Ahn… and he better have the best lawyer in Wonderland to defend him,” Seonghwa smiled. “He can’t get out of this now.”
“It’s going to be over soon, huh?” You wrapped your arms around his waist. “I’m glad it’s over, Seonghwa.”
“Me too,” he sighed. “It’ll take a few weeks and I’ll be busy but… when I’m free from all of this, do you want to go to the beach?”
“You have to make it to the cafe opening first,” you laughed. “It’s next Saturday, you haven’t forgotten, right?”
“Of course not,” he kissed your lips. “I’ll be there.”
He was there, as promised, when you opened the cafe officially. You and Wooyoung felt proud when all your friends and family arrived, admiring the floral exterior with flowers for sale as well, Hongjoong’s soundtrack running in the background, the vintage theme going along with the whole vibe. The first day was as busy as it could have gotten, especially when your friends brought their coworkers and colleagues and a famous blogger came as well. Wooyoung was excellent in the kitchen, working well with the team he’d hired, and you stood as a cashier for the day shift, greeting everyone and giving away flowers, making sure everything was okay.
Siyeon came at night again with the mothers, and when your mother gave you an approving wink, you felt like you had finally done something good to please her. Wooyoung noted that, joining the mothers at the table himself and Siyeon pouted because even her mother loved him. You called Siyeon to where you were standing at the counter.
“If you don’t tell him that he looks hot in the apron or whatever, then I will, because I know that’s what you’re thinking,” you poked her stomach and she glared at you. “Come on. Even I’m dating now. I didn’t realise you were such a coward.”
“He doesn’t like me like that-”
“Trust me, he does. He can’t stop glancing at you whenever you’re around. And he even took you to his apartment to make you taste his dishes! He never does that!”
“That’s only because I have superior taste buds-”
“Shut up, and I better see you both together tonight,” you announced and she muttered curses under her breath which you ignored. At that moment, Wooyoung passed by you two, casually patting Siyeon’s back and you wiggled your brows at her. Wooyoung went into the kitchen and while you two were teasing each other, he came out and told you he was almost out of ingredients, so you should close the cafe for the day- it was almost 10 anyway.
“The first day was a success, right?” You asked and he squeezed your hand.
“Huge success. We did it,” he grinned and you grinned back, going to change the sign on the door and watching Siyeon compliment something. You went outside for air.
You inhaled deeply, feeling a sense of achievement having announced the cafe closed, however… Seonghwa was very late. You wondered where he was-
“Are you not going to let me in?” He came in front of you out of nowhere and you blinked.
“You’re late!” You pouted.
“I know, just got held back at the court, but… I bought you something to make up for it.” He took out a box and you narrowed your eyes before you opened it.
“Oh goodness, you really are worse than Hades,” you laughed, making him grin. “Couple rings?”
“Aren’t people into this these days?” He took out your ring, taking your hand and looking at you for permission before sliding it in. You admired the silver band.
“Maybe. I love it, Seonghwa. I really do.”
“Come here,” he hugged you, swaying you back and forth and you got lost in it until Seonghwa paused. “We might have… an audience.”
“Oh, fuck,” you muttered and he snorted as you broke the hug and looked back at not only Siyeon and Wooyoung but also their mothers and your mother watching you both with silly grins plastered on their faces. You waved at them awkwardly.
“Let’s get inside,” he laughed. “I need some coffee.”
“I’ll be right in after a minute,” you said and he kissed your temple, nodding and going inside. You watched him bark orders to Wooyoung who put him in a chokehold, making everyone laugh. You smiled to yourself- with your loved ones enjoying together, it really couldn’t get any better.
—--------------------
Being with Seonghwa now that you both realised that this was not your first life together was a whole different experience.
You had never envisioned yourself to be with someone who cared so much about you, for starters. You never thought you could meet someone who would understand you even when you didn’t explain, or know what you wanted even when you were not vocal about it. You sometimes found yourself wondering if he was real and you weren’t dreaming, but he was very real, and he was nothing like you had imagined- in the best way possible.
You had to come to terms with the fact that you were indeed living a second life. You spent a lot of days wondering what that meant. You wondered why you remembered it. You would have thought it was insane had you not correlated everything with Seonghwa- who also thought he was going crazy before he talked to you about it that day in your hometown. It was absurd, how you both found each other again, but it was starting to make sense.
Most of all, you thought about the past. You thought about your life as Persephone- you didn’t have all the memories, of course. Only bits and fragments, and sometimes you’d see a dream that would play out similarly in your present life too. You thought about your mother who still had a similar nature as Demeter, though you were now working out on your differences more. You thought about Hestia and wondered who she was- was she a part of your present life too? She had fulfilled your last wish, after all. You would like to see who she was today, if she was still alive in some sense.
You thought about yourself- the flower goddess who was also the Queen of the Underworld, who could bring the dead to life but also suck the life out of anything alive. You read more about the story on Persephone but found a lot of contradictions and decided to not search anymore, instead letting the truth unfold in your dreams.
You also thought a lot about Hades. Of the cold and mysterious King of the Dead, ruler of the Underworld, who somehow turned out to be the warmest person you knew. He was strong and powerful but he needed you. And that made you feel proud, in a sense. He believed in you and he proved to be right when he thought you could bring life to the Underworld. He loved you like no one else and devoted himself to you.
Perhaps, Seonghwa thought about those things too. He probably did- and you two had made a promise to share whatever dream you’d have of that life, though you found out after a few days that whenever you dreamed, it was together. You couldn’t believe the coincidence and thought you really were meant to be. So you promised instead to not let the events of that life interfere in your present life- after all, that was another time, another world, perhaps.
That didn’t mean Seonghwa and you didn’t use it to your advantage. You knew what his favourite flowers were, what he liked, how he approached things. He knew that about you too- when to give you space, when to hold you, when to tease you-
“You’re smiling like a fool,” Seonghwa’s lips brushed your ears as he whispered, and you leaned into his touch, digging your feet in the sand as the waves brushed them.
“Just thinking,” you muttered, caressing his arms that were slung around you and shifting in his lap.
“About?”
“Do you wonder where we would be if we didn’t meet each other that day?” You asked, squinting your eyes when the cloud passed by and a ray of sunshine hit the ground.
“Hmm… I do wonder but I get scared at the thought that you could have seriously gotten hurt that day.”
“But I didn’t,” you grinned and he kissed your cheek.
“We would have met later- it was inevitable if you think about it,” Seonghwa nodded slowly. “We also could have met way before if that fool Wooyoung would have introduced us earlier-”
You laughed. “It’s not his fault. Who would have guessed we could be a thing?”
Seonghwa smiled at that. “Yeah, we have to give him some credit. If we didn’t have a mutual friend, we might not have met after the police station when you came for the witness statement.”
“Well, we might have encountered each other again,” you thought about it. “And we would have texted each other casually or something.”
“True,” Seonghwa nodded.
“We could have met later, and you could have been dating someone else,” you sighed deeply, making him snicker. “Have you dated before though?”
“It never worked past a few weeks,” he admitted. “I always thought something was missing with the others.”
“But,” you shifted in his lap to face him. “We might have been interested in someone else if it wasn’t for our dreams and coincidences-”
“But that’s not why I was attracted to you now,” he pointed out. “I ignored the dreams- but you look like you’re interested in me because of them,” he narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps you should try dating someone else.”
“Please,” you scoffed. “I thought you were hot the minute I saw you. I would have tried to find you one way or another.”
Seonghwa raised a brow. “Is that what you think?”
You nodded eagerly and he laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re too much.”
“Come on,” you poked his chest. “Be candid about this.”
“You want me to be candid about this?” He asked, his gaze changing as he shifted his position, making you lie down on the sand and getting on top of you. He licked his lips as he traced the outline of your face. “I think I would have used any excuse to meet you again- in fact, I knew what I was doing when I got your number the day we met… at least I like to think that I did.”
You laughed at that. “You had no idea back then, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll admit I only got your number because I needed you to come to the station later,” he said. “But… I would have definitely texted you again.”
“So you liked me first, huh?” You teased.
“Well…” he kissed your jaw, letting his lips trail down. “Does it matter?” He kissed your collarbone and you squirmed a bit but he pinned your wrists down and you giggled when the waves crashed and got you wet. “I like where we are now. Do you?”
“Hmm.. kind of, except the sand is getting in my hair,” you sighed loudly and he laughed, kissing your lips.
“That’s what I like about you,” he shook his head, pecking your lips again. “You’re the most ridiculous and unexpected person in my life.”
“Wow, I’m so flattered,” you pushed him away successfully, kicking his leg before rolling away from him while he grinned. “You’re also the most annoying person in my life. I thought Wooyoung would hold that title forever, but he has some serious competition now.”
“Please,” he scoffed. “You love me.”
You stifled your smile. “I do. What about it?”
He matched your gaze for a few seconds before he hid his face in his hands and you laughed, crawling to him. “What’s the matter?”
You knew what was- he was feeling overwhelmed, just like you did whenever he told you that he loved you. You hugged him tight, kissing his temple and making him look at you.
“I love you, Park Seonghwa. Look me in the eyes when I say it.”
He did and then he captured your lips in a heated kiss, making you arch back, continuing to kiss you and tease you as you lay back down and you thought you couldn’t be anywhere else right now.
He was there, with you, and it felt like you had another eternity to be with him.
synopsis : in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.
pairing : seonghwa x reader
themes : romcom, angst & smut.
word count : 37.8K.
to say that your father trusted you was a correct statement to some extent, but what he didn’t trust was the environment you were brought up in.
raising two kids despite being a mafia syndicate and hiding his very mafia-like tendencies wasn’t always easy, considering that both his kids would run around during meetings that not a single soul was to hear.
A/N: Thank you to @actually-vl who literally just sent in an ask saying "size training with Jeno" and my mind ran with it :]
Special thanks to @horanghoe and the baby @flowerboykun for reading through this for meeee! 💕
“Jeno~ Jeno, please. Come on,” you whined, your thighs trembling and threatening to close around your boyfriend lying between them on his stomach, “Please. Just the tip. I want it, please.”
“It won’t fit, baby,” he tried to soothe you, pressing a kiss to your clit that made you jerk away from him, the little bundle of nerves overly sensitive from how long he had already played with you.
“It will. Please, I want it so bad,” you all but cried, throwing your head back in frustration.
“I don’t want to hurt you, angel. You know what happened last time when we tried.”
Objectively you still knew how much it had hurt and remembered really well that no matter how much lube you had used or how many praises Jeno had whispered at you, it simply would not fit. But subjectively you just really, really needed his stupidly big cock inside you right now and not some stupid plastic toy.
“Need it,” you hiccuped, burying your hands in his dark hair to tug at the soft strands to get your desperation across to your stubborn boyfriend, “Need you to be inside of me so fucking bad.”
“Fuck, baby,” Jeno cursed, fucking the dark blue toy faster inside you, twisting his wrist so it would drive exactly into the bundle of nerves that made you see stars and moan his name out loud.
“Wish it was my cock making you moan like that,” he sighed, busying his lips with messily sucking your clit between them, the taste of the cherry-flavored lube strong on his tongue and the slick sound the dildo was making loud in his ears.
“Please give it to me, fuck, Jeno,” you stuttered, the grip in his hair tightening as you felt the knot in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, “Wanna cum on your cock. I wanna feel it inside me so badly. Please. Please give it to me.”
In lieu of an answer, your boyfriend simply fucked the toy inside you as far as he was able to, the flared base sitting snug against your core. The sudden feeling of such utter and complete fullness had your nerve endings set alight, frying your brain as you threw your head back with a loud cry of pleasure as your legs shook around Jeno’s frame.
He on the other hand couldn’t take his eyes off of you, drinking in the sight of complete bliss on your beautiful features as he firmly held onto the base of the dildo to keep it in place. If he got to see you in such ecstasy over the pleasure he was able to make you feel with the plastic toy, he didn’t even mind that he wasn’t able to make you feel that with his cock instead which only throbbed painfully at the mere thought of eventually being wrapped up in your tight heat. Biting his tongue to keep a row of profanities from slipping, Jeno slowly kissed his way up your body instead, keeping his lips pressed to your skin to worship every centimeter he was passing.
“Hmmm, how does that feel, baby?” Jeno rasped into your ear before he gently bit into the shell, his strong body radiating heat where he had you caged against the mattress.
“So full. Feel so full,” you blabbered breathlessly as if you were able to feel the dildo up in your throat.
“That already makes you feel full, princess?” Jeno went on, raking his teeth down your pulse and over the bruises he couldn’t stop himself from sucking onto your skin before, leaving goosebumps in his wake that had you shiver. To emphasize his words, he barely pushed and pulled the toy inside you, grinding it as deep inside you as it would go.
“So full,” you sobbed, a single tear rolling down your cheek when he lowered his body down onto yours, letting you feel the full length of his cock as he gently rutted against you.
“You’re not ready for it yet,” he whispered, his voice sounding more strained than before as he stained the skin of your stomach with his precum. Jeno’s self-control was only so strong and having you trembling and moaning beneath him took its toll on him to the point where he just had to take some of the edge off or he swore he’d just explode.
“But I want it.”
“I know you do, baby. I know you just want to be fucked stupid on my big cock.”
“Jeno, please,” you whined, trying to convince him by wrapping your legs around him, completely forgetting that that would dislodge the dildo still inside you so it easily slipped back out, staining the towel laid out beneath you even more.
“Oh baby,” Jeno only chuckled darkly when colorful curses and moans fell past your lips, your core clenching around nothing and begging him to fill it up with his fingers or his cock.
“Want it,” you pouted, reaching between your bodies to wrap a hand around his cock, jerking it slowly even if you couldn’t fully close your fist around him, “And I know you want it too.”
“And I will fuck you when you’re ready for it,” he groaned when you guided the tip of his cock to your dripping core, teasing yourself and him alike. And god, how badly he simply wanted to thrust his hips forward right now to bury himself in your tight heat. But seeing you cry over his cock not out of pleasure but out of pain once was already one time too often in his book and he never wanted to make you cry like that ever again. Not if he could help it.
“But I want it now,” you argued, pressing your hips up against him, the pressure against your entrance already feeling better than what any toy ever had.
“It won’t fit like this,” he gritted out between his teeth, his eyes screwed shut and teeth digging into his lower lip, the pain keeping him grounded so he wouldn’t simply give in and just shove his cock inside you.
“Just the tip,” you purred, slapping the fat head of his cock against your wetness.
“I’ll hurt you, stop it.”
“It’s not that much bigger than the toy.”
“Oh?” That comment had Jeno snap his eyes open, a mischievous sparkle in them, “It’s not?”
“Jen- wha-“
“Shhh,” he shushed you when he leaned back, quickly grabbing something from your bedside table as well as from the box you stored all your toys in.
“Listen closely, darling,” Jeno rasped, sitting back on his haunches, “This,” he grabbed the dildo he had just fucked you with, still glistening with your essence and the lube alike, and aligned it with your body, “Is how deep that just went.” To emphasize, he unscrewed the lipstick he must have grabbed from the nightstand and drew a line on your lower stomach.
“And this,” he grinned as he lined up his cock right next to the mark, “This is the real deal.”
Shit. The mark he drew on reached just past your belly button.
“And now, I’ll fuck you with this until you scream for me,” Jeno spoke lowly, showing you the pink dildo he had grabbed from the box which was somewhere between the other toy and his cock in terms of length and thickness. Bigger than anything he had fucked you with before and it made your heartbeat pick up because it meant that you were one step closer to having his cock actually inside you.
“Give it some more time and you’ll get my cock to stretch you open like that,” he promised darkly, intently watching your face for any sign of discomfort as he slowly fucked the new toy inside you, imagining how your face would screw up when it was finally his cock stretching you open.
“So big,” you groaned, harshly gripping onto his biceps.
“We can always go back to the smaller one,” Jeno immediately tried to soothe you, pressing sweet kisses on your cheeks. After all, his number one priority was to make you feel good and if he’d have to wait a little longer before your body was able to accept him, he was okay with that.
“No. No, I want this one,” you immediately argued, taking a deep breath to get rid of the tension in your body, knowing that it didn’t help with the stretch.
“Such a good girl for me,” your boyfriend started to shower you in praise, slowly moving the toy to get you used to the size while kissing down your body again, paying extra attention to your sensitive areas.
“Jeno,” you gasped, arching into his every touch.
“Relax for me,” was the only thing he said before going back to kiss and lick your clit while slowly working up a rhythm with the toy that had you moaning and begging for more in no time at all.
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