#keopihausnet

[hannieoftheyear]

CLARITY [K.MG]

Mingyu doesn't want to pay you any mind. To him, you're just another girl that'll get her heart broken by his dumb best friend.

Why would he care, right? He shouldn't care about the crying sounds he hears from his bedroom when his friend stands you up for the girl he's actually in love with. And he shouldn't be getting close to you. He shouldn't dread the day his friend decides to end things with you and bring someone else home. He shouldn't be wishing to have met you first.

pairing: mingyu x f!reader (with a side of bad bf!jungkook)

word count: 30,2k (lmaooo)

genre: bf's best friend mingyu, (awkward) acquaintances to lovers, the other side of the f2l trope, angst, smut, you could say there's a drizzle of fluff

content warnings: emotional cheating, tsundere mingyu at first, too much crying, self-manipulating, moral dilemmas, jealousy, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, denial (tons), one minor injury, mention of blood, a love triangle?, sexual tension, inappropriate things happen between mc and mingyu, petnames: babe, baby, princess (hers) | explicit smut, teasing, body worship, praise, marking, protected penetration, it's love making guys

🎧: mine — ive, breathing — nct dream, knew you — kailee morgue, begin again (taylor's version) — taylor swift, i wanna tell u — lexie liu

a big thank you to tiya @gyubakeries and ro @shinysobi for reading this over and telling me it doesn't suck ♡ and rae @nerdycheol for supporting my simp and pathetic men agenda ♡

THIS FIC IS FOR +18 READERS ONLY! I can't control what people read, but I can control who interacts with my blog. MINORS CAUGHT INTERACTING WILL BE BLOCKED.

disclaimer: i didn't want to make any svt member the asshole so i made him jungkook, but i love jungkook he's literally my bias in bts and my forever ult so please just remember that this is a work of fiction and it doesn't represent how he is in real life nor how i view him (it pained me writing him this way you have no idea kdjfgnrjeskgf). i also didn't proofread the last two scenes i¿m sawrry

last note: there are several pov switches throughout the whole fic, because it just went where it wanted, I had no control over it, it was the fic i swear.

check out my main masterlist ♡ dividers used: heartbeat, paper texture (banner)

i hope you enjoy! i'd love to read your thoughts :)

“Are you sure I won’t bother him?" 

You’ve blocked Jungkook’s hand from opening the door to his shared apartment, forcing him to look at your pleading eyes. 

“Babe, it’s not the first time you’ve come to watch a movie, he doesn’t mind, stop worrying.” 

“It’s just... he always locks himself up in his room when I come over. Maybe he doesn’t want to get to know me.” You whisper, in fear the door doesn’t muffle the sounds from outside and he’s standing just by the entrance. 

The few times you’ve crossed paths with your boyfriend’s roommate, he barely said hi before sprinting out of whatever room you were in. Sure, your relationship with Jungkook is fairly new, and you don’t expect to become friendly with his circle of friends so quickly. But if his closest friend won’t pay you any mind then how are you supposed to get along? 

“He does that to give us privacy, I promise it has nothing to do with you.” Jungkook doesn’t notice the coldness you're sure his friend exhibits towards you, as he has been that way every time he brought a new girl to their home. Jungkook attributes it to his friend simply giving him some space, to not make everything awkward by being the third wheel. “He wanted to watch a movie, and he said it was cool when I told him you were coming over.” 

A deep breath leaves your lungs at his confirmation, even if it’s already the tenth time you’ve asked the same question and got the same answer.

Inside the apartment, Mingyu sits manspreading on the couch, phone in his hand and headphones at the maximum not-deafening volume. Jungkook’s still in his fairytale phase, that time at the beginning of a relationship when he still tries to introduce his new partner to aspects of his life, in which Mingyu is included. That’s the only reason he accepted his friend’s insistent plea to hang out with you both tonight. And when a hand shakes his shoulder lightly, he knows it’s his Jungkook with his new catch of the semester. 

You sit on the other end of the couch, as far as possible from Mingyu’s motionless body, still unsure on where you stand with him. Neither of you make the effort to talk to the other while Jungkook goes to his bedroom to change. You don’t want to bother him and make him have a reason to dislike you, and Mingyu notices your nervousness, but prefers not to do anything about it. 

Mingyu has learned to not try hard to get to know Jungkook’s fleeting girlfriends, because no matter how nice or how pretty you are, in a matter of weeks, he knows his friend will find something to complain about and eventually use as an excuse to break things off. It’s a never-ending cycle, and he learned he can’t do anything to stop it. 

“What are we watching?” 

Jungkook’s loud voice breaks the ice beginning to build up in the living room, and quickly sits down between Mingyu and you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He doesn’t seem to notice the ignoring contest going on, chatting with Mingyu like the other man wasn’t just dead silent. 

After discovering you’ve never seen Rocky, a few gasps from Jungkook and a lot of convincing later, the movie starts playing on the screen in front of you. You didn’t actually care what they chose, just happy to spend some time with your boyfriend, even if you’re not alone. 

Mingyu knows the movie from beginning to end and backwards, could even recite the dialogues if asked, not because he particularly likes it, but because Jungkook somehow always convinces the girls he brings to their home to endure it. 

He used to argue with him about the reputation he built of being a heartbreaker, but Jungkook doesn’t see it that way. To him, he’s just trying to find the one in an endless quest that never fulfills him the way he thinks a relationship should. But Mingyu knows Jungkook well, and the real reason why he can’t last in a relationship for longer than a few months is clear as day, but Jungkook’s blind to it. 

You pretend to focus on the storyline, Rocky’s growth journey that Jungkook was so excited about, while he comments on his favorite parts. It’s not a movie you’d pick if you were alone or with your friends, too manly for your taste, and the romance aspect is too shallow, but Jungkook’s perspective and insightful comments are making you appreciate it more. 

Tears begin forming on the corners of your eyes as the final fight progresses, your throat closing up in warning as the rounds pass and Rocky gets beaten up by his opponent. No matter the genre, movies always make you cry during the final act as the protagonist reaches the goal after struggling so much.

After the referee separates both opponents, tying at the 14th round, the public demands a rematch, but Rocky’s more preoccupied to look for the woman he loves. You try to sniffle quietly, no longer being able to put a stop to your weeping, and snuggle against Jungkook’s chest, just as his phone rings, receiving a call from Cathlyn. 

From the corner of his eye, Mingyu notices the whole interaction, and he almost gets shocked by Jungkook blankly rejecting the call in an instant and putting his attention back on the screen. How didn’t Jungkook notice you’ve been loudly sobbing for the past fifteen minutes is beyond him. But the shock lasts less than two seconds, as Jungkook's phone rings again and he gets up from the couch, heading to the kitchen with his phone in his hand and his thumb already opening Cathlyn’s text conversation.

You know Cathlyn has been your boyfriend’s best friend since high-school, and became inseparable since then. You even came to meet her a few times. She’s funny, nice and outgoing, effortlessly being the center of attention.

The living room gets cold again after Jungkook goes to the other room, and it’s too obvious that Mingyu just doesn’t have any interest in engaging in small talk with you. Your last sniffles echo against the walls, and the sigh Mingyu lets out almost sounds louder in the sea of dense silence. 

Another sniffle from you and a tired sigh from him, Mingyu gets up to go after his friend who doesn’t seem to be coming back to the couch soon enough. He leaves a pack of tissues in front of you without sparing you a glance, and just walks past the couch. 

"Dude, don’t just leave me alone with her.” You don’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation. You really don’t. But the sound carries. And it just proves that Mingyu clearly doesn’t like you. “She’s your date, not mine.” 

“Sorry bro, Cathy was calling me nonstop. I thought something had happened.” Not necessarily true, as she called only once and Mingyu's aware of it. “She wants to go out tonight, clear her head a bit.” 

“I don’t care what Cathlyn wants. Your girlfriend was crying and you just left her there.” It’s almost like he was defending you, but something in his tone suggests that it isn’t about you specifically. You blow your nose one more time, and the sound echoes into the kitchen. “Listen, she’s still crying like a baby, go with her bro.” 

Last words you hear before heavy steps begin and get closer and closer to the living room couch until the man sits by your side. 

“Sorry babe, I know movies always get you emotional.” Jungkook apologizes sweetly, even if there’s something else in his mind. 

“It’s okay.” The sun setting behind the windows draws your attention away from your boyfriend. “I should get going. It’s getting late and I promised my roommate we’d go out for dinner.” 

Lame excuse, but you’re aware you’re not wanted at the apartment anymore by half the people living under that roof, and it really is too late. 

Jungkook nods, unbeknownst to the uncomfortable situation he's a part of, and grabs your coat as you get up from the couch. You turn back, smiling to Mingyu coming out of the kitchen as a form of goodbye, but he just nods and sits back down. 

“We're going out later, and Cathy’s paying, you wanna come? It’s a bar close to here.” Jungkook naively asks as he walks you to the door. He might be genuine with his invitation, but you’re not sure. 

“I told you I have an important meeting for the congress tomorrow morning, I can't go out." 

Jungkook hasn’t proven himself as someone with the best memory out there. You’ve had to remind him of important stuff a few times already. The key is to just take a deep breath and not let it stir up any anger within you, because that’s just how he is. 

“Oh, I thought it was on Sunday.” Jungkook asks just as Mingyu walks past the end of the hallway into his bedroom and shuts the door. 

Even he knows about your meeting, because you told Jungkook last time you were there, and even if he locks himself up in his room, the walls might as well be made of paper the way he can always hear your conversations. 

“Tomorrow is Sunday.” You note as you chuckle lightly. 

“Oh, shit. Then I guess I’ll see you when you're done.” He gives you a sweet kiss for the first time in the day, light and fleeting like a feather, and closes the door after you take a few steps towards the elevator. 

Nayeon closes her macbook suddenly, done with all the work you have been doing since the early morning, ready to take a deserved break. “So? How was the hot date last night?” She rests her chin on the palm of her hand, ready for whatever gossip you’re willing to share.

“It wasn't hot.” Your eyes don’t leave your notebook, in an intent to work on ideas to make the presentation more interesting. 

“You’re so secretive! C’mon, tell your best friends forever and ever what you did!” She insists, making you chuckle as you see your other friend mirroring her from the corner of your eye.

Your pen drops from your hand onto the table as you finally look at them. “It was just a movie night with his asshole roommate.”

“The hot one?” Jennie intercepts, now more interested than before.

“I don't know Jen, his only roommate.” You try to go back to your notes but your friends’ unrelenting stares make it impossible to concentrate. “And how do you even know him? I’d never seen him before meeting Jungkook.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re too cool for campus gossip,” Jennie takes the chance to poke fun at your lack of knowledge of basically anyone, “but everyone knows Jungkook and Mingyu.” They both giggle at their mention.

“Be serious, we're not in high school.” You deadpan, but deep down you know nothing really changes from high-school to college. The drama remains the same, just with a few years added to the people involved. “There’s no such thing as the popular guys.”

When you were younger, the different cliques that formed were crucial to what the experience was going to be for the years to come. And you used to live for the gossip. You always knew the latest fight or the newest couple before anyone else. It felt important at that time and it kept you entertained. But as you grew older, got into college and met new people, meaningless gossip lost its interest, your focus now on passing your classes, meeting new friends, and having the best contacts to move forward with your career.

Sure, you knew of a Jungkook, as your best friends are up to date with the gossip and like it or not, you end up hearing everything even if you don’t know the people they’re talking about. But before he approached you at a party, you had no real idea who he was. It’s true that when you first saw your boyfriend at that party, he caught your attention immediately, and it’s undeniable that if you had seen him before, you would’ve been caught in his spell like every other girl on campus.

“What I mean is that people take notice when two hot guys hang out everyday.” Nayeon points it out like it’s the most common thing in the world. And maybe it is. “They’re like candy to the eye, too sweet, unapproachable, but nice to see nevertheless.”

You don’t forget to roll your eyes before replying. “Mingyu’s still an asshole. He never talks to me! I’m sure he curses at me in his head every time I show up at their apartment.”

“He seems so serious all the time.” Nayeon adds, having your back. “He’s probably a stem major or something like that.”

“He’s always hunched over his computer, so he probably is.” You note, eyes returning to your notebook so you can keep working on the presentation and be done with the topic.

“I once tried talking to him at a party, but he just looked me dead in the eye and said he wasn’t interested.” Jennie’s stare gets lost to the view out the window as she remembers. “I barely told him my name.”

Nayeon and you exchange looks before erupting into laughter.

“You guys are so mean!” Jennie complains, but joins to laugh with you two.

“Hey, at least he had the decency to tell you that and not lead you on.” Jennie shrugs, not really hurt as she has already forgotten that cursed interaction. “He barely says hi to me before sprinting out of my sight.”

“He doesn’t really talk to many people except that group of friends they have. It’s not personal, he's just a little anti-social.” Nayeon puts her two cents in. “Just let him be an asshole if he wants to be one!”

“I shouldn’t let him occupy that much space in my mind.” You nod at them and they both nod back in agreement. “I’m dating his best friend, he’s going to have to accept it.”

Nayeon and Jennie exchange looks, raising their eyebrows at your words before going back to you.

You have a vague idea what they meant by that, but you still ask, incredulously. “What?”

“Nothing!” They say in unison.

They tried several times to enlighten you about Jungkook’s “reputation”, as they called it, but you prefer to get to know him on your own and not have your judgement clouded beforehand. Rumors are just that, rumors.

“Look,” with your hands slapped on the table, you order their attention, “I know you guys don’t really like that I’m dating him,” you observe, “but I promise, It’s fine! He’s really nice and I think he really likes me.”

“It’s not that.” Jennie says at the same time as Nayeon exclaims, “I’m sure he does!”

“We already told you, he usually dates for a few months before breaking up all of the sudden.” Jennie continues, paraphrasing every warning they already gave you. “We’ll have your back with whatever you want to do, just be careful.”

“I won’t let a tattooed man who I've only been dating for a couple of weeks break my heart.” At least you think you're stronger than that.

“Am I an asshole if I tell you to just not get your hopes up?” Nayeon asks, and if it was any other person, you'd get mad, but only because it's her and she just lacks tact sometimes, you let it slide.

“Yes! You are!” You chuckle, knowing she’s just looking out for you. “Thank you guys for worrying about me. Now, I think we should shorten the introduction a little bit. Everyone there already knows who Durkheim is, we don't need to explain his whole biography.”

The notes you've been taking all day stare back at you, now more of a bunch of senseless scribbles than useful annotations.

“Ugh! Back to work already?” Jennie’s body falls limp on her chair, not ready for more hours of brainstorming and not reaching any goals.

“The professor wants to hear the whole thing tomorrow, we can't show up with anything less than a perfect speech.” You insist, opening Nayeon's macbook again against her will.

“Do you promise to tell us any good gossip about those friends of his, in about…” she looks at her empty wrist, pretending there's a watch there, “two hours? We'll work diligently until then.”

A deep sigh leaves you with a barely there smile you try to hide. “Fine. Two hours, and then we can take a real break.”

The waitress carries two pieces of cake and the biggest strawberry smoothie you’ve ever seen in your life, heading to your table. The size of the cup brings out chuckles from both Jungkook and you, but as soon as it gets placed between you on the table, the two straws draw your attention, and Jungkook asks the waitress for another smaller chocolate smoothie. 

“You can have that all for yourself babe, I know how much you love strawberries.” 

You don’t admit that you were excited for the corny romantic moment of sharing a smoothie with two straws, appreciating that he at least remembered your love for berries. 

Jungkook’s phone keeps vibrating with notifications, which he reads but doesn’t respond to, trying his best to focus on whatever you’re telling him. His mind is anywhere but the diner where you decided to have an afternoon snack, battling between answering Cathlyn’s worrying texts and listening to the ideas you gave for the presentation you’re doing with your friends in front of various colleges soon. 

In the middle of your story is when you realize Jungkook hasn’t said a word, his eyes lost to the much more interesting brown swirls on the wooden table. 

“Is everything okay?” He’s been noticeably distracted lately, getting lost in thought more often, taking longer to reply to your texts. You attribute it to the time of the year, as he’s busier at work and with his studies, and so are you. But even if he says he’s fine, you’re beginning to worry. 

“Yeah babe, sorry, just a little tired.” His lips line up in a tight smile in an attempt to reassure you. “Do you mind hanging out at my apartment after we’re done eating?” 

Scraping your plans to catch an afternoon movie, you hum and nod before returning to eating your piece of cake, seemingly disguising your disappointment since he doesn’t ask any more questions. 

Jungkook leaves his plate exactly the way the server left it for him, the piece of chocolate cake with not even a particle less, his fork unused and clean on the side. He gulps down his new personal smoothie in a second, and as soon as the last piece of your cake is entering your mouth, he’s asking the waitress for the bill. He knows you’re still talking to him, he can see your lips moving, but your words enter one ear and leave through the other, having no meaning in his mind. 

Jungkook pays without asking for your share, which you weren’t even going to argue with him about. You’re usually a heavy supporter of each person paying for what they ordered, but as the minutes pass by, it’s becoming harder and harder to not get mad at him, so you’re going to spend his money without feeling bad about it. You know you should ask him about it, but shouldn’t he tell you if something was wrong? Especially after you’ve already asked him? Between being a pushover and pretending nothing’s happening, you end up choosing to just spend the rest of the afternoon with him and hope he’ll just tell you the truth. 

The walk to his apartment is less than 10 minutes long, but every dreaded step drags heavily, making everything move slower, with the both of you in silence, and the incessant notifications blowing up his phone acting as a remainder of his true priority. 

Jungkook’s trying to ignore the constant ping coming out of the pocket of his jeans, pretending he isn’t dying to just answer who keeps trying to contact him. 

And you have a vague idea of who it could possibly be. 

The cold apartment doesn’t feel welcoming as you enter through the door, lights off and deadly silent. Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you tiptoe around as if in fear. Your reflection in the mirror looks unmistakably disappointed and sad, and you wonder if Jungkook really didn’t notice or just didn’t care. 

He can be charming and gentle when he wants to, always so polite and respectful, but the ability to be aware of your feelings may be something he could work on. Or at least understand that the things he does ultimately affect you too. 

In the kitchen, he’s already forgotten his one rule for the date, and is carefully answering every message he got, the glasses of water he was filling for the both of you forgotten on the counter. 

When he hears you come out to the living room, Jungkook rushes to sit with you, with a plan already in mind. 

“Babe, will you get mad if I go for a bit?” His fingers trace lines on your forearm, and you begin to lean into him before your brain registers his words. 

“What? Why?” You ask as your eyes search for any type of clue on his face.

“Cathy called me,” he takes a second to think about the best words to use, “she had a fight with her boyfriend, and I have to be there for her.” 

Jungkook never liked Cathlyn's boyfriends. Something about them always feels off about them, as if none of them are ever right for his best friend. In his eyes, he just wants the best for her, someone who'll really be able to care for Cathlyn in the way he thinks she deserves. 

“Oh, I hope she’s okay.” Deep down, you wonder if it really is so serious that Jungkook feels obligated to stand you up. But it’s fair, she needs her best friend when she’s having a bad time. The fact that her best friend is your boyfriend is a coincidence you can’t be mad about. 

“I’ll be back before dinner and I’ll make it up to you, okay?” He’s already standing up, his arms on both of your sides as he crouches to give you a quick peck goodbye. 

The door closes shut before you can even utter a reply, and his steps echo on the hallway, getting further away every second, until you’re left in complete silence. 

In the quietness of the apartment, you instantly feel out of place, unwelcomed by the inanimate objects surrounding you. Seconds turn into minutes, the ticking of the clock being the only sense of time you have left. You don’t want to grab your phone, avoiding the inevitable feeling of disappointment that’ll take over you if there are no texts from Jungkook waiting in your notifications.

How stupid is what you’re doing? How desperate? Waiting for your boyfriend to come back from the home of the woman that seems to be his priority? You know you shouldn’t be feeling this way, especially since he's already told you that she’s just his best friend. But it’s still hard. 

The back of your eyes burn as tears threaten to come out, blurring your vision just as you hear a key turn, heavy steps entering the home you’re not supposed to be in. 

 ⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Mingyu knew he'd find you at his apartment.  

Jungkook texted him that he had an emergency and had to leave in a rush. And Mingyu knows what “emergency” really means in that context. It means Jungkook rushed over to Cathlyn's at the first sign that she was feeling off, and he wanted to hide it from him so he wouldn’t have to hear the same reprimand again. 

What Mingyu didn’t expect was to find you on the verge of crying on his couch, scattering to find any form of tissue paper somewhere inside your bag. 

You both freeze, looking at each other for about half a second before rushing to greet. You pretend you weren’t crying, and he acts as if he didn’t notice. Mingyu utters a quiet hello as you mumble some kind of apology for being there, and then he locks up in his bedroom as usual. 

His friend put him in an awkward situation once again. Mingyu doesn’t want to get to know you more than he already does. He knows you're on a different major and that’s enough, because one day, in the near future, it’s going to be another girl walking through the door instead of you, and he’ll never see you again.

He tried a few times to stay friendly, but no one really wants to stay in contact with someone so close to the man that broke their heart. And he gets it. That's why he stopped trying all together. 

Mingyu would usually come home from work, put on his headphones, and spend a few hours on his computer until his stomach urges him to eat something. But for this particular afternoon he’s been put in, he skips the headphones in case you need something, or at least until Jungkook comes back, which he isn’t even sure is going to happen. 

A project for work distracts him for a good while, organizing different stats and numbers on the excel sheet his boss sent him earlier in the day. He almost forgets you’re on the other side of the wall. Almost. 

If he loses his focus on his computer screen, he can hear when you move around on the couch. What can you possibly be doing? Is what he asks himself at any noise that reaches his ears, but there’s never an answer. Until something alerts him that you’re not doing well. The same sniffle he heard days ago as you were watching a movie with Jungkook echoes against the walls of his bedroom.

You’ve been trying hard not to make any sounds that may disturb Mingyu, as you assumed he was busy by the way you could hear the non-stop clicking of his keyboard from where you were sitting. But your mind seemed to have other plans, so much so that you lost control of the cascade of tears brimming from your eyes. 

In between everything, you miss the sound of a door opening and steps getting closer to you. Mingyu comes into view as you’re wiping away tears with the back of your hand, and you can’t pretend he didn’t see you this time. 

He sits by your side in silence, mainly because he doesn’t know what to say, but also because he can’t just leave you alone in this state. He feels responsible in a way.

“Is he with…” Are the first words that come out of his mouth after seconds of dead silence. 

“He didn’t tell you?” You look up at him to find him staring into the wall. He shakes his head, glancing at your slightly blotchy face before looking down. 

“He just told me you'd be here, but I figured.” Your body relaxes the tiniest bit. Good, at least you’re not an unannounced guest. 

“She had a fight with her boyfriend.” You explain, more frustrated than understanding. 

“Right.” He simply replies. 

Both of you sit there, fixed on your spots, too aware of the other. Mingyu realizes you’ve stopped crying, maybe because you don’t want to cry in front of him, but at least your breaths became less deep than before. 

A growl from your stomach reverberates through the room, and you flush in embarrassment. 

“You can–” he coughs before continuing, “you’re here often, you can help yourself if you’re hungry, it’s no big deal.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you chuckle, trying to conceal the humiliation, “but he said he didn’t have anything. That’s why we went out. And I can’t really cook, so.” 

Never in the past weeks would you have thought you’d be sharing embarrassing details about you with your boyfriend’s cold roommate, but life has a funny way of turning things around. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. There’s no way you can’t do the basics.” His body turns, now facing you as he takes an interest in your not so fun fact. 

“I’m not lying! I can’t even make scrambled eggs.” You hide your face behind your hands, and you immediately hear Mingyu laughing as the dent beside you on the couch disappears. 

“C’mon, I’ll teach you. I happen to be a great cook.” Your stomach growls again, and Mingyu looks back at you as he walks towards his kitchen, leaving you no choice but to follow him. 

Mingyu’s not thinking about this exchange with you too much.

Yes, he’s doing exactly what he promised himself he wouldn’t, as this will inevitably make you both closer and he will not be able to turn back to his cold self again. But he couldn’t just go on with his day knowing you were having a bad one, and even worse, knowing you were crying because of his friend.

He had to do something, and if that something is becoming your friend for the afternoon, then so be it.

“Grab the egg carton with his name on it.” You chuckle as you follow his instructions, “and his milk too, why not.” If he left you stranded, the least you can do to get back at him is use his stuff and not Mingyu’s. 

Between laughs and Mingyu indicating instructions like he was teaching a 5-year-old to cook, time passes, you forget why you were at the apartment in the first place, and you end up with a fine plate of scrambled eggs that doesn't taste bad at all. 

“I told you it wasn’t that hard.” Mingyu sits in front of you on the rounded table as you share the food. 

“Well, I’ll let you know if your teaching lasts until I have to cook alone.” You chuckle and avoid his stare, realizing your words sounded much friendlier than you intended. 

Back in the living room, Mingyu’s ringtone disrupts your conversation, and his sigh alerts you that he might already know who’s calling. He gets up with another sigh, throwing you a knowing look before going to answer Jungkook’s call. 

You appreciate his effort to make you feel better, and when he doesn’t ask Jungkook any questions over the phone, only replying with yeahs and okays to whatever he’s telling him, you understand that Jungkook’s not coming back, and whatever he’s telling Mingyu will just make you feel worse. 

Before Mingyu comes back, you do the dishes that you used and get your stuff together. The decision to leave has already been made. 

“Leaving already?” He appears at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning on the edge of the door like a statue. 

“I know he’s not coming back. I’m sorry, I should’ve left earlier, I didn’t mean to be a bother.” It’s the first time you’ve addressed that feeling you have that you constantly bother him, and it’s kind of freeing. 

“You’re not a bother.” A man of few words, Mingyu feels like he meant a lot more with that simple statement than just dismissing your apology. 

His blank reply doesn’t feel forced, not like he only said what you wanted to hear. No. He said it automatically, not thinking much about it, and it took a heavy load off your shoulders. 

“Still, I should–” You’re now standing right in front of him, looking up at his face as he doesn’t realize he’s in your way. 

“Right, sorry.” Mingyu rushes to get out of your way, stumbling against his own feet as he walks backwards to go get his keys. “Do you need a ride? I could–” 

“Oh, thank you, but it’s okay. I’m meeting a friend at a restaurant close by.” A warmness spreads on your cheeks at his offer. “Do you happen to know which way to go? It’s supposed to be a few blocks from here.” 

To redirect his attention away from you, you show him the address of the restaurant on your phone screen. You frequent the neighborhood on a weekly basis, but the blocks tend to mix up, as the buildings look too similar to each other. Mingyu scratches the back of his neck, trying to remember the names of the streets around his place. 

“I think it’s three blocks to the right, and then two to the left.” He doesn’t sound very convinced, but you trust you’d be able to tell if he’s sending you the wrong way, so you take his word. 

Even after denying him, Mingyu still accompanies you downstairs, and you politely say goodbye to each other at the entrance before separating. 

The sun sets on the horizon, the golden hue painting the streets beautifully as you walk. ‘Third block to the right, then turn left,’ you mentally repeat, trying to concentrate on the directions as well as you try to find a street sign that'll tell you if you’re going the right way. 

As you reach the second block to the left, where Mingyu implied the restaurant should be at, your phone vibrates inside your purse. The unknown caller doesn’t give up while you contemplate whether to pick up or let it go to voice-mail, but something in the back of your mind urges you to answer. So you do. 

“Who is this?” In case that another telemarketer got a hold of your phone number, you try to sound annoyed. 

“It’s Mingyu, sorry,” his deep voice sounds the tiniest bit robotic due to the poor service, “I realized I sent you the wrong way. You have to turn right instead of left.” 

“Oh,” you chuckle as your eyes read the street number you’re at, “thank you.” You don’t tell him you could’ve figured it out on your own, a tiny smile appearing on your face at his gesture. 

“I should’ve warned you that I’m terrible with directions.” His breathy chuckle reaches your ear at the same time as a metal ruffling sound. Was he heading out to find you in case you didn’t pick up? 

“No worries.” Your mind is blank, as the two things you’re most awkward at doing are getting combined in one: phone calls and talking to Mingyu. “How did you get my number?” 

“I asked Jungkook for it just now.” That feels weird for some reason, but you toss that feeling away, trying not to overthink about it. “You okay?” 

“Yep! Heading that way now! Thank you! Bye.” You abruptly hang up on him, the only way you thought to end the awkward conversation. 

Your heart rate escalates, pumping hard like it’s about to beat out of your chest as you go the correct way now. Whatever you do, your mind still manages to replay what just happened over and over again, until you’re standing in front of the restaurant hostess.

Walking towards the table you see Nayeon sitting at, the idea of Mingyu having your number saved makes the back of your neck tingle with nervousness, and you can't shake the feeling even as you greet your friend and she starts telling you about her day.

Maybe you’re giving it way too much thought. It’s just the excitement of finally feeling like you’re growing closer to your boyfriend’s friends. Nothing more.

There's been a noticeable shift in the awkwardness of your “friendship" with Mingyu. You didn’t become best friends overnight, but at least he stopped fleeting away from you anytime you'd be over at their apartment, and wouldn’t deliberately choose the spot furthest from you at any group gathering. 

As you and Jungkook step out of his car and walk over to the front door for the costume party a classmate of his was throwing, you can only take a deep breath and hope your extroverted self appears after a few drinks, and that Mingyu doesn’t decide he hates you again, because he’ll be the only other person you know at the party. 

Not much of a partier yourself, you’re just trying, for him. Trying to join your boyfriend in what he likes, especially after he showed interest in you being there with him by inviting you. 

The loud music can be heard even with the door closed, and Jungkook texts his friend to come pick them up, because ringing the bell clearly won’t do anything. 

“Hi man! Sorry for making you both wait.” A tall blonde man who you’re sure is named Jackson welcomes you in, giving Jungkook a man hug before looking you up and down and asking. “What did you guys come as?” 

“I’m a firefighter dude! And she’s...” Jungkook looks at you waiting for your answer, not even trying to remember the name of the character you’re dressed up as.

“Mavis, from Hotel Transylvania!” You smile as Jackson finally lets you in, and you can see in his expression that he has no idea who you’re talking about when you walk past him. 

As soon as you cross the door, it is a relief to find Jungkook’s whole friend group there, sitting occupying the entire couch for themselves, only one big body missing from the ensemble. 

Jungkook only takes his hand off you to greet his friends one by one, and makes them promise to save you seats while you go to the kitchen to find something to drink.

It hasn’t been long since the party started, but the crowded house is already filled with that dense air mixed with the smell of sweat, and the sticky bodies make it harder for you two to advance into the kitchen.

Part of you is relieved that Mingyu’s nowhere to be seen, if he’s even at the party. Sure, you’re getting along now, but being around him is still stiff and awkward. Maybe you can use this opportunity to try and get close to Jungkook’s other friends. 

Sitting between him and other two strangers that squeezed themselves on the far end of the couch, that plan is quickly scrapped. It’s possible Jungkook doesn’t realize you’re too far away to be included in any conversation, he wouldn’t do it on purpose, but you have no will to tell him. Not when his body is fully turned away from you as he talks to Cathlyn and the guy she's dating, Yugyeom.

The music's too loud for their voices to travel backwards and let you hear, but judging by Jungkook’s menacing body next to yours, he doesn't seem to be liking the conversation. He didn't talk much about Yugyeom, that name being new to you as Jungkook’s hadn't even mentioned him before. And from what you know, he and Cathlyn have been having some problems for the past few weeks, so it's normal for her best friend to dislike him.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Mingyu thinks of himself as somewhat of a good friend. Sure, he may have some faults and he fucks up every now and then, as everyone does, but whenever his friends need him, he’s there. He covers for Jungkook at school, listens to his girl problems as any friend would do, hates whoever he hates, and he’d never break that friendship over any random girl. That said, he’s still a man, and he has eyes. 

When he comes back from the patio after catching up with some old friends he bumped into, he first lays eyes on the striking yellow costume Jungkook’s wearing. But as he follows the bright color, he sees you sitting by his friend's side, his arm wrapped around you but giving you no attention as you drink from an almost empty cup. 

It's no surprise to him that Jungkook's too enthusiastically talking with Cathlyn instead of any other friend, or instead of dancing and enjoying the party. What shocks Mingyu is how blatantly he’s ignoring you, sitting so pretty by his side. 

Yeah, Mingyu can admit he finds you pretty. He might be a good friend, but he’s not blind, and denying it would just make him stupid. Any guy with a brain should be lining up for a chance to talk to you, getting lucky to be the ones you spare a glance to. Instead, you’re sitting with an arm around you and being ignored by its owner. It could be that he’s gulping down his fourth drink already, but he might even go as far as saying you’re his type. But that’s about as far as it could possibly go. You’re pretty, nice, and in love with his best friend. Well, maybe not in love yet, but you like him enough to put up with his shit. And Mingyu’s not interested. He can’t be.

A smile forces itself on your face as your eyes catch his across the room. The most polite way to acknowledge his presence without trying to interact with him further.

Mingyu nods your way and drives his eyes elsewhere. It’s not like he wanted you to do anything else, and even if he wanted to go up and chat with you, he couldn’t have fit in between you and the people on your other side crushing your free arm. 

So, he stays there, standing against a wall on the only free hallway –in which there aren’t any people because Jackson threatened anyone who dared to step within a two feet radius of his bedroom, watching the scene progress before his eyes.

Where his friend has a reputation of being a heartthrob, a player, or a heartbreaker, Mingyu’s always thought of as Jungkook’s serious and mean friend. A bad school reputation is the least of his priorities, and he doesn’t care to change how people he doesn’t care about think of him. It’s not like he’s not enjoying the party, he just prefers to stand alone and drink. If that paints him as a boring guy, so be it. He tries scanning the room to find a friend to catch up with, but it's pointless, only the bright yellow costume makes itself visible. 

It's mostly a blur of bodies messily dancing to 2000’s pop songs inside that room, but Mingyu could recognize his best friend's silhouette if he was miles away and 90% blind. Your costume contrasts with Jungkook's in a way that even drunk Mingyu realizes it’s you who's being dragged onto the “dancefloor". 

He sees you get loose as his friend's hands wrap around your waist and move your bodies in sync. It seems that every single light in the house is on despite it being a party, and you’re in the center of his line of sight, constantly and too easily catching his attention. 

What he doesn’t see, however, are your constant complaints about dancing, appearing as flirty whispers to anyone who wasn't listening. And after he takes his eyes off of you two to find a glass of cold water, you’re back again to your original place on the couch, this time with much more space around you. 

“Not much of a dancer?” His feet directed Mingyu to where you sat almost instinctively. There’s finally room to sit down so he’s going to take the opportunity before somebody else does. 

“Only when I’m in the mood.” Your stare’s lost somewhere in the room, paying attention to your drunk boyfriend dancing with his best friend. 

“I see.” You both sit awkwardly, body facing front and eyes focused on the same view. 

“Cool costume, by the way. I love Hotel Transylvania.” Mingyu manages to fill in the gaps of the heavy silence. 

“Thank you! You’re the only one that recognized me.” A small smile appears despite your bad mood. 

“People here lack basic culture.” A simple joke followed by awkward laughs from the both of you, the atmosphere doesn’t help to ease the tension of your interaction. 

“I wanted Jungkook to dress up as Johnny.” You have to stretch your neck to Mingyu’s side so he can hear you above the loud music. 

“That would’ve been cute.” Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say. It’s been a common occurrence for him to go blank when talking to you. 

“I guess he’s not a fan of matching costumes.” You try your best to continue the conversation, not really caring whether he’s interested or not. The little alcohol in your system won’t let you fall on an awkward silence again. 

“He probably got tired of them after so many years.” 

You freeze. 

“What do you mean?” 

Mingyu realizes he just fucked up. All those drinks he had before you came, and that one after, finally brought him to the stage where his mouth gets loose and he starts blurring out things he shouldn’t. 

“Uh–, I mean, Cathlyn used to force him to do it for halloween.” Force. 

For the record, Mingyu's not a liar. He might be loyal to his friend, not wanting to put him in bad situations, but he’s not going to go above and beyond to protect an already weak relationship. So, he picks a word that’s going to save Jungkook’s ass, but still saying part of the truth. 

“Right.” If you caught on to his deliberate choice of words, you don’t show it to him. 

 ⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

It’s pointless to get mad at your boyfriend for such a meaningless piece of information. Every relationship is different, and you shouldn’t be comparing yours to a much older one. Their bond’s just different! It doesn’t have anything to do with you if Jungkook didn’t want to do stupid matching costumes. 

Still, you’re glad Mingyu slipped and gave away the truth, and you appreciate his effort to make it sound less bad. 

Jungkook gives you no time to ponder on what to do though, as he stumbles his way back to you, so drunk he can’t regulate his strength and falls hard on the couch. 

“My heead hit the back of the c-couch with my head.” Jungkook pouts and slurs his words. 

“Ow, baby, you’re really drunk.” Mingyu’s eyes pierce through your back, and a wave of self-consciousness takes over you. “Should we go home?” 

Jungkook’s cheeks feel warm in your hands as you try to get him to look at you, but his drunk mind can only concentrate on one thing at a time, and for the time being, his eyes are focused on Yugyeom’s hands groping Cathlyn's ass shamelessly as they dance. 

“I don’t feel so good.” He only says, his drunk stare having a hard time straying away from that scene as he gets up and stumbles his way out the house.

Mingyu runs after Jungkook just behind you, and manages to catch him before he faceplants on the damp grass outside. 

“Where did we leave my car?” Jungkook asks no one in particular, disoriented from his almost-fall. “Wait, you’re not my girlfriend!” His eyes go wide as he realizes who was helping him and tries to escape. 

“I’m here, babe.” Before he manages to, you wrap your arm around his other shoulder, leaving him no choice but to be embraced by yours and Mingyu’s hold so he doesn’t hurt himself again. 

Now that you’re outside, with no music blasting at full volume, no people around pushing you constantly, and breathing fresh air, you’re too aware of your surroundings. Or more specifically, how Mingyu’s arm and yours touch behind Jungkook’s back. 

It's a weird way to break the ice of skin to skin contact in a friendship, but maybe it’s what you need to end the lingering awkwardness that surrounds your interactions once and for all. 

“I saw you drinking.” You scold Mingyu after you two lay Jungkook down on the back seat and he turns to find his way back to his car. 

“I’m not drunk anymore.” He mutters just before he trips with his own foot. “Okay. I’ll crash on the back seat for a while and then I’ll go home.” 

“I’ll drive you.” Mingyu's silence as he thinks of a polite way to turn your offer down only eggs you further. “I’m going there anyways.” 

“I-I wouldn’t want to take advantage.” He fiddles with his keys, avoiding your eyes. 

“Of what? Me? His car?” Mingyu hesitates, the gears in his brain visibly turning.

“I don’t know.” It’s quiet, his response, and no matter how cute and defenseless he looks when he’s drunk, you don’t really have time to wait. 

“I’m offering.” You deadpan, but try to flash a small smile so his drunk brain doesn’t understand your hurriedness as anger. “You’re clearly still drunk, c’mon, don’t make me have to drag you.”

Realizing there’s no way out of this other than listening to you, Mingyu caves in and gets on the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. “You wouldn’t be able to drag me anyways.” 

Of course, you can't push an over six-foot-tall gym bro even if you use all possible bodily strength you have. "Hell yeah I can!” Your teasing stare meets his, and you know he got what he wanted by pushing your buttons. 

"I’d love to see you try.” 

An indescribable feeling completely shuts down the workings of every organ inside you. It could be what he said, but it’s just a common phrase to tease a friend. It could be his eyes that refuse to leave yours. Or it could be the silver of a smirk that appears as you hold your breath. Whatever it is, you push it down, hide it on the very back of your mind and put up ten walls to disguise as a simple and normal response to teasing.

“We should-” 

“I don’t like him.” The drunken backseat passenger you had forgotten about interrupts you. 

“Who?” The distraction allows you to break eye contact with Mingyu. A believable excuse to put a stop to whatever was happening.

“That guy she was with.” Jungkook looks like he’s talking to himself, his eyes closed as if he wanted to fall asleep and unaware of who he's actually talking to. 

“Cathlyn? Her boyfriend?” Mingyu intercepts so you wouldn’t have to ask the awkward questions, already knowing where this conversation’s going. “Yugyeom?”

“Ugh, don't say his name.” Mingyu’s instinct tells him to see your reaction, to check if you realize what Jungkook means by all of this, and especially if it hurts you. “He has a douchebag face.”

You chuckle at his pouty statement, but deep down his words pierce a surface cut on your denying heart. It’s gone as fast as it came, but it was there, and your hands automatically started the car, urging you to start driving like nothing happened.

Ever since the evening started, Mingyu knew Jungkook wasn't going to have a good time. Not since opening the door to the bar that revealed Yugyeom there with Cathlyn.

“Why is he here?” Jungkook muttered under his breath, annoyed, on the verge of being angry.

“She's allowed to invite her boyfriend. Just like you invited your girlfriend.” Is all Mingyu replied.

Jungkook has been in his life ever since he can remember. When their first tooth fell out, when they schemed behind their parents to figure out if Santa was real, when he got his first bicycle and Jungkook laughed in his face when he fell and scraped his knee, when they met Cathlyn in high school and Jungkook’s eyes shined brighter than ever, when they went to prom and lost their virginities on the same night, and when they got accepted to the same college and joined the same classes. Every memory Mingyu has, it’s always Jungkook by his side. He can't mess with that peace, no matter how violently he wants to tell his friend to stop playing with girls’ hearts and realize he’ll be much happier if he owned up to his true feelings.

So, he resorts to trying to make Jungkook connect the dots himself by telling him harsh enough truths. It’s a work in progress.

In the few hours you’ve all been at the bar’s pool table, Mingyu hasn’t said a word. He's been sitting alone at one table on the side, seeing his friends sucking at playing and actually having fun.

With the excuse of being tired and simply enjoying watching each round, he took the opportunity to be temporarily invisible. With all of them busy, he can look at you all he wants, smile to himself when you miss your shot, and pretend to be drinking from his half empty glass.

There’s not much more he can do. Whatever he thinks he feels, whatever he thinks of you, it’s wrong. That’s why, at that moment, he prefers the loneliness of his table. The crude reality punishing him in real time is enough.

Doesn’t matter if you’re on the same team as Jungkook or not, your attention is always focused on him. You search for his touch, his eyes, crave his attention on you. But the more drunk his friend gets, the more competitive he gets, and the little patience he had with your lack of pool skills is quickly dissipating.

Another round finishes, with the both of you losing to Cathlyn and Yugyeom again, and it’s more than obvious that Jungkook’s annoyed. When your opponents excuse themselves to the bar to get more drinks, you try playing on your own and see an opportunity to try and get Jungkook in a good mood again.

“I swear I know where to hit it! My arms just won’t cooperate.” A chuckle escapes during your lighthearted shout.

Jungkook sighs at your missed shot, your pout having no effect as he’s trying to conceal his annoyance. “Which one are you thinking?” He only asks.

“The red one, close to the middle?” You point to it, waiting for any reaction, but he just waits for you to continue. “If I hit it a little to the right, I think it can go inside the left corner hole.” Bodily coordination may not be your strong suit, but you’ve played enough online pool that your brain’s trained to draw the imaginary angles.

The main idea was telling Jungkook your theory, him realizing you actually have an idea of how to play the game, and finally teaching you how to get a hold of the cue stick correctly.

“You have to do it like this.” Jungkook takes the cue from your hands and takes your place, ushering you to the side to watch as he takes the shot. “Your index and middle fingers serve to place the tip of the stick where you want it.”

“But I-” You were right, and the ball enters exactly where you said it would, but you can’t chant victory. Not when his attention shifts to a heated argument just meters away from you.

In the second it takes you to focus on what’s happening, your eyes land on Yugyeom stomping out of the bar, a crying Cathlyn left behind. You don’t even have to check if Jungkook’s still by your side, as he soon enough appears with an arm around her shoulders in an intent to console her.

When he starts getting the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and heads to walk out the door, you realize the comforting session won’t be quick. But why would it be? His best friend just had a screaming fight with her boyfriend in public. It makes total sense that he’d want to take her out to have some fresh air and a little more privacy than inside the full bar.

“If I knew the night would be like this, I would’ve stayed home resting for next week.” Your body falls on the chair next to where Mingyu’s been sitting in silence. His flat expression rapidly makes you uncomfortable, like you just crossed a line. “Shit, they’re your friends, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t hav–”

“No, you’re right.” He interrupts you, with a tone that implies you must've taken the words right out of him. “I get having troubles, God knows I've seen them go through stuff, but we're allowed to be tired of it.”

Between his cold exterior and sometimes unfriendly choice of words, Mingyu's surprisingly capable of understanding other people's feelings.

“Has this been happening a lot recently?” You don't care to sound like a gossip. “Her fighting with her boyfriend, I mean.”

Mingyu sighs, eyes wandering to the door through which both of his friends just stepped out of. “Let’s just say, it’s been a regular occurrence.”

“Well, let’s not let other people’s problems ruin the fun.” You decide out loud. You’ve been having fun since you got here, regardless of your boyfriend’s bad mood, and you’re not going to let anything ruin your last night out before the busy week you have ahead. “Do you want another drink?” You down the last sip of what Jungkook was drinking.

“Oh, actually, I’m saving to pay for gas for the trip we have next week. I promised to drive, so.” Mingyu explains, too apologetic for simply refusing a drink. “You’re coming right? It’s a congress that our college’s doing.”

“Of course I’m coming,” maybe you should be offended that he doesn’t know, but it’s not his fault, “I’m the one giving the presentation.”

“Wait, seriously?” Mingyu’s eyes go wide, in slight shock as well as in embarrassment. “I knew you had a big thing coming up, but I didn’t think it was that! How did I not know?”

“Maybe Jungkook forgot to tell you. You know how he is…” Mingyu nods at your statement, but the answer brewing in his mind gets cut short by the glass door opening once again.

As if he was summoned, Jungkook re enters the bar alone, quickly lets you know he'll wait outside for Cathlyn's uber with her, and leaves again without sparing you another glance.

Silence fills the void between Mingyu and you, only murmurs from the people around the bar manage to make it not unbearable. Awkward again, you never seem to have a normal conversation with Mingyu without feeling some type of way. Jungkook interrupting seemingly added a layer of tension very hard to dissipate.

“I’m gonna… practice playing.” You aren’t the best at handling awkward silences, so you stand up with that excuse. “I’m so bad at it! I think the stick does the opposite of what I want on purpose.”

Mingyu chuckles behind you, following you to the pool table to watch up close. “You’re not that bad.” You look at him dead in the eyes, head tilting to the side with scepticism. “I’ve been watching you play! You just need to learn how to get into position correctly.”

Your arms cross in front of your chest, deciding if what Mingyu’s saying is in any way true, or if he’s just trying to make you feel better. He takes the cue laying on the table, accidentally knocking a few balls away from their places in the process.

“Show me how you’d do it.” As he hands the pool stick to you, warm smile and standing tall facing you, you feel secure he won’t tease you if you’re awful.

“Okay, but don’t you dare mock me.” The lighthearted threat makes him chuckle again, and your fingers tremble grabbing the stick from his hand. “This is my usual.”

You mentally cringe at yourself, but you push through it and lean your chest forward, hovering over the table, setting the tip of the stick between your fingers and analyzing which ball to hit.

“I see where things might go wrong.” His voice sounds closer with each word, but it's not enough to prepare you to feel his chest against your back, his arms embracing you to guide your hand where he wants to. “Your hand’s too close to the end of the stick. You’re not in full control of it.”

When he places his hand over yours, helping you slide it up the cue, you’re sure your whole body’s covered in goosebumps. Your heart accelerates to unimaginable speeds, about to jump out of your chest as Mingyu’s breath fans on the back of your neck.

“I think we can get the blue striped one,” your mouth blurts out faster than your brain can think, “If I manage to hit the white a little to the left, I can go right and push it into the middle hole.” You try to play off the unprecedented effects Mingyu has over you, forcing yourself to get your mind back in game mode.

He doesn’t let go of his hold on your hand, his arm grazing yours even more closely. “Are you sure? That one seems like a long shot.” You can hear his smirk through his teasing words.

“Just help me hit it there.” Your head turns just barely to the side, finding his face much closer than you imagined, and your eyes roll before going back to the table, trying to mask the blush you feel creeping on your cheeks. “I know I’m right.”

“Relax a bit. It’s close to the hole, so you don't need to hit it too hard.” Mingyu extends his other arm over the table, helping you position the tip to hit exactly where you told him to. You don't dare move, his cheek brushing against your temple freezing you in place momentarily.

When you feel his hands tighten over yours, taking control of the stick with your fingers tangling with his, your arms fall limp, letting him shoot the shot. With the tiniest push, the barest tense of his muscles all around you, both your arms move the cue forward and hit the white ball.

The both of you smile as the striped ball falls in the hole you said it would, relaxing against one another before realizing just how close you really are.

“I told you, I was right.” You chuckle away from him, using cue in your hands as a barrier.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted your skills.” Maybe it’s the drink he was stalling to finish until you approached him, but Mingyu’s more relaxed with you tonight, a little more prone to smiling than usual.

“Babe?” But Jungkook’s voice quickly wipes it off his face. “Let’s get going, wait for me outside.”

“Wait!” You get off Jungkook’s hold, almost offended that he thinks he can drag you away at his will. “I was finally getting a hang of it. Mingyu’s a better teacher than you, you know.” You try to joke to ease the suddenly tense atmosphere, but it doesn’t work.

“I’m really tired, babe. And I promised I’d take you home, so, please?” Jungkook retorts, face turned your way, but his eyes are on his roommate.

The staring contest between the two men doesn’t stop, an indecipherable friction you don’t really want to find out the meaning behind.

“O…kay,” there isn’t really an out where the three of you will be happy, so you just accept Jungkook’s petition to leave, “bye Mingyu.”

You walk away, your hand in the air wishing for Jungkook to take it and come after you.

Mingyu begins to grab his stuff, assuming the both of you will be quickly out the door by the time he’s done paying his tab, but it seems the night is not over for him yet.

Jungkook grabs him by the arm and turns him around so they’re face to face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What the hell man?” Mingyu shoves the other’s hand away, a hunch telling him his friend’s anger has something to do with you.

“I leave for a minute and you’re all flirty with my girl.” Jungkook’s always been a jealous man, but Mingyu can’t help but sigh at the accusation.

Still, Mingyu can’t lie and say he wasn’t flirting. He can’t say he didn’t love the way you were blushing and squirming under him. And he can’t say that it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“I was entertaining her because you left.” He retaliates with a part of the truth. “It’s getting old man, you can’t just leave her to go after Cathlyn all the time.”

“You’re back with that again.” Jungkook throws his arms in the air, easily irritated by the topic. “You know what? I’m tired of this.” As the confrontation he was looking for didn’t turn out the way he wanted to, Jungkook begins walking away, “I’m leaving, we’re leaving.”

“You never want to talk about it, but you know it’s wrong.” Mingyu adds, a little louder this time. “You gotta stop.”

“Why are you so worried?” Getting more frustrated by the second, Jungkook barely turns, not fully facing Mingyu. “You never cared about it before.”

“C’mon man, I’ve always noticed.” How awful of a person he is. Accomplice to his best friend breaking girl after girl’s hearts, it’s true that he never cared this strongly about Jungkook’s extracurricular activities. Even though he always tried to make Jungkook realize the truth by himself, for his own good, Mingyu can admit, to himself at least, that now he has an added, selfish reason to want his friend’s behavior to come to an end.

“It’s my life. When I need an opinion, I’ll ask for it.” With that, Jungkook finally leaves, getting out the door to where you’re waiting in the cold.

Mingyu wasn’t done with the conversation. There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to say that it’s your life too. Jungkook's messed up feelings were affecting the people around him too, especially every girl he dates to forget. Especially you. But he just couldn’t keep pushing it, not without the truth coming to the light.

Mingyu’s reputation of being too serious, or even heartless sometimes, wasn't born out of nothing. He's aware of his resting bitch face, of the way he bolts in and out of class and the way he's never the first choice for group projects in the classes none of his friends attend. If he cared what other people thought of him, maybe it'd hurt. But he has enough friends, friends who like him the way he is, and doesn't go to college to expand his contact list.

Going to university, to him, was exclusively a way for him to learn more about his likes and interests. He goes to his classes and focuses maybe a little too much, but it’s how he lives his days, how the hours pass until he has to go to work. That is, until you came into his life unprovoked, and disorganized his sharp and efficient lifestyle.

He never crossed paths with you on campus before, and if he were to run into you after the first time he met you, he would've probably ignored you and scurried to his building like a flash. But today, he unconsciously looked around, hoping to catch even a glimpse of your figure coming out of your major’s building. He hoped you’d see him and smile at him as you walked his way to make useless small talk. But you didn’t, of course you didn't, and as soon as he sat down on his usual seat in his favorite class, he realized. He’s fucked.

For the first time in his life, the numbers on the chalkboard didn't make any sense, the words coming out of his favorite professor's mouth sounded like a mumble of pure nonsense. His mind couldn't focus, diving into the memory of your sweet smile next to his ear. Or the shivers your body graced him with as his hands purposely covered yours on the cue stick. His hand would grab his pen to try and write a single sentence, and the feeling of your fingers barely interlaced with his would overwhelm him.

What’s worse than pining after your best friend’s girl? As of the moment, Mingyu has no answer. There’s nothing he can really do either, besides accept you’re in a sort of happy relationship. He can’t take you aside and say ‘hey, you know your boyfriend? My friend? Yeah, so I have a theory that he might be in love with his girl best friend, sorry!’ Even thinking of doing so puts a bad taste in his mouth.

He's aware that, currently, he's at least top5 worst friends in the world. And he's not looking to end your relationship and get bumped up to the top1. It's decided. He'll just ignore whatever feelings are bubbling on the pit of his stomach until they disappear!

Easier said than done, because nothing he does seems to get you out of his mind. And the vivid reminder that he’s nothing more than someone you have to get along with is screaming at him everywhere around his home.

The four walls of his bedroom imprison him, suffocate him with the thought of you. He is a bad friend. He does want you. He does resent Jungkook for keeping you his. But if he broke up with you, would Mingyu ever see you again? Would he ever get the chance to see the heat visibly rushing to your cheeks as he walked closer to you?

Mingyu hates himself. He hates himself for getting turned on at the memory of your body heat against him, shivering at his closeness but not pulling away, letting him wrap himself around you, even if the both of you knew he shouldn't. He needs to drive his mind elsewhere.

Locking in to work in front of his computer, trying to scare away the sturdiness building up in his jeans, it might become the first time he wishes it was his day to go to the office. The front door of the apartment opens, rushed steps and messy, wet, breaths echoing against every thin wall that surrounds him. The reminder that what he deeply wants, it's not, and should never be his.

Working from home has never been so much of a curse.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Jungkook grips at your sides, his body flushing against you and pressing you further into the couch. The near desperate way his lips roam over yours has you gasping for air, but he doesn’t relent, hands making a mess of your hair as he hopes you give him the satisfaction he craves for.

He grinds his hips against yours with determination, and you press against him trying to give him what he’s hopelessly looking for. But no matter what you do, he goes in for more, your bodies getting more and more out of sync.

You try to give him what he wants, emitting sounds of a satisfaction you're nowhere near feeling. His mouth moves to the side of your neck, leaving marks you're not sure you want.

The white door, now in your line of sight, calls for your attention. You shouldn’t be thinking about other people while you have a man in between your legs doing everything to feel any type of pleasure. But if the yellow light sneaking below the closed door alerts you of something, is that the person at the back of your mind is probably right there, behind the dangerously thin cardboard the architects of the building call a wall.

“Isn't Mingyu gonna hear?” The choked up question comes out in a whisper, in fear, in panic. And the mention of his name speeds up your heart rate far more than your current activity.

Jungkook barely cares about your worry. “He's gaming.”

You know gaming implies wearing noise canceling headphones and tuning out of the real world. But is he really? 

“I don't know, babe, shouldn't we check?” It sounds stupid to even ask. Check? Knock on his door to very politely ask him if he can hear you having sex?

“He's not gonna hear,” Jungkook sighs, finally looking you in the eyes to answer, “and I wouldn't care if he did. He has to know you're mine.”

There's a speck of disdain behind his words, behind the weirdly possessive statement he just made. It leaves you more breathless than ever.

“What are you talking about?” You don't know what kind of egotistical manly fight they have going on, men friendships are not exactly your expertise, but it can't be about something you're aware of.

“Don't tell me you don't see it.” Jungkook hasn't gotten up from on top of you, but his hands on the sides of your waist tighten a bit more after your question.

“I don't know what you mean.” You chuckle in an intent to ease up the newly tense atmosphere. You didn’t mean to make it about him. “He's your friend, you shouldn't be jealous.”

“And you shouldn’t be talking about another man while you're under me.” Jungkook retorts, half angry, half still turned on. It's a weird mix. One that doesn't let you reply to correct yourself.

Jungkook lowers down to your mouth once again, kissing you fervently to make you forget about anyone else. And you decide to let go. He’s here, your bodies tangled together and your loose clothing crumbled up your torsos to feel each other’s skins. You shouldn’t doubt that, in that moment, he wants you.

You drift away into the feeling of his lips against yours, both hands cupping his jaw to relax the hurried pace he’s setting. His hands under your t-shirt feel good, like he knows what he’s doing, like he knows how women like to be touched, and it helps. It helps free your mind of everything else.

Still, you’re careful of the sounds that leave your lips. You let Jungkook’s tongue slip inside and dance with yours, muffling any soft moans you don’t get to restrain. He searches for something, his hips angling with yours to feel some kind of friction. If he keeps moving like that, you’ll be in the mood in no time.

A ringtone coming from the back pocket of Jungkook’s jeans disrupts the quiet setting. You stiffen under him, but he doesn't let his mood come down. You're grateful when he grabs his phone to decline the call and puts it on the end table in a rush, finding your body with his hands once again.

It's like, for the first time, he's prioritizing the time he planned to spend with you. He searches for your touch like nothing happened and you're the only thing he's thinking about.

“Just let it go to voice-mail.” Your hoarse voice surprises you, echoing over a new call. Jungkook doesn’t respond, not stopping the trail of kisses up your neck until your lips are against each other again.

But a call comes in again, and he groans against your mouth, trying to ignore it, letting the default ringtone soundtrack your activities until it stops on its own. It’s awkward, but he doesn’t stop kissing you and wraps your legs around him, trying to make you forget.

By the fourth call, you're both annoyed, and Jungkook reluctantly gets up from on top of you to check who's bothering him so much. The caller gives up just when he gets the phone in his hand, but from the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of him opening his texts. You don’t mean to spy on him, not wanting to be a controlling girlfriend that needs to know everything her boyfriend's doing, but it’d be nice to simply… get told.

The clicking sounds of his fingers typing on the small screen of his phone are about to send you straight to a mental hospital. Why's he typing so fast? So insistent? Is he mad? He's not telling you anything, as if he forgot he was just kissing you out of breath.

“Did something happen?” You dare ask, even if deep down, you know the answer is clear as day. You know who’s the only one capable of making him drop everything in a heartbeat. “Is Cathlyn okay?”

“She needs me.” Is all he replies. Cold. Decided.

“What do you mean?” The question manages to mask the anger brewing inside you. For now. But you need an explanation. How many times can you put up with the same situation until you blow up? He can’t expect you to be all right with being stood up constantly.

“Yugyeom broke up with her.” He explains without looking at you, like that’s enough of an excuse.

“She always needs you when you’re with me.” Bitterness bleeds through your mumble. It doesn’t feel good. You should understand that best friends need each other. But why are you never on the receiving end of his undivided attention?

“You can’t expect me not to care when she’s going through something. She’s my best friend. She goes first. Always.”

His words are like a bucket of ice water in the middle of winter. The explicit revelation that his priorities are carved on stone. There's silence as he realizes what he said, and neither of you dare speak up.

Your lungs expand but no air gets inside, and your throat threatens to close as your body prepares to start shedding tears. “Why make plans with me if you're just gonna sprint her way at any sign of trouble?” You can’t stop them. “You’re supposed to be with me.”

Tears cascade down your face, quiet sobs getting in the way of your pathetic pleads. Covering your face from the outside world, you shrink in place, giving in to the crying as Jungkook kneels in front of you.

“Baby, I'm sorry.” His now soft voice barely reaches you over your sobs. “I know I haven't been very present.”

“No, you haven't.” His hands carefully withdraw yours from your probably blotched face.

“I promise you,” Jungkook makes the effort to look you in the eyes, “after this, I’ll be better. I'll make it up to you.”

He tries. But you, convinced or not of his willingness to fulfill the promise, don't want him to leave. It's not about the fight, or the sex, or even him. If he leaves, it cements you as the second option. If it was about winners or losers, you'd lose.

“Stay.” It comes out so quiet you're afraid he didn't hear you.

But he did.

“I can't.”

Silence again. Deafening silence as you look at each other with different thoughts racing through your brains. He decided. There's nothing to be done.

Jungkook takes your hand in his and squeezes it tight in an attempt to bring you comfort. He thinks he's doing the right thing. He thinks he'll be able to nurse his best friend's heart and then come running back to you after.

At your silence, he stands up, reaching for his coat hanging on the hallway before sparing you one last look and heading out.

The soft click of the door closing behind him breaks you a little more inside. The couch, no longer warm with the weight of two bodies, feels empty, too big for you to fill.

Bare, exposed, you let yourself be vulnerable only for him to cut you off and leave you there, with your feelings blurting out of you in the form of tears and sobs. The undecorated walls judge you as you cry your eyes out. Is there something you can do that’ll make him like you more? You already try so hard, you’re just not… her.

When the white door opens to reveal the other man of the house, you're not surprised. Of course he was there, and of course he heard everything. Your luck wouldn't let you escape this situation without throwing a more embarrassing one at your hands.

It took Mingyu all of two seconds to realize what was happening. His headphones in the grip of his hand are proof that he did not want to hear what you two were doing, he just didn’t get to put them on. He may be a bad friend, but he's not one to invade someone's privacy.

That's why it took him a bit more time to decide to step out of his room. Would you let him be there for you? Would you be too embarrassed? You shouldn’t be, he thinks. It’s not your fault.

At one point, he got used to Jungkook abandoning his fleeting girlfriends at the first notification from his best friend that popped up. Mingyu never did anything for the girls, and they usually left after a few minutes. Maybe that's why most of them didn't like him. He didn't care, and they always cut ties with everything Jungkook related after the break up, so why would he?

He shouldn't be doing anything. Caring that you're crying alone in the middle of his living room goes against every rule he imposed onto himself. He should be cleansing his mind of you, stepping away from the weird not-friendship you two developed and going back to focusing on the things that matter. He shouldn’t let you climb up that list.

But as soon as he heard his roommate standing up and leaving, the itch at the back of his brain started screaming at him to do something. How can he step back and do nothing? He can’t be indifferent this time. Unfortunately, he does care. Unfortunately, every sob and quiet sniffle tugs at his heart and urges him to be there for you, to come out and try to be there for you as best he can.

The sight of you, even if it's not something he hadn't seen before, breaks him. Making yourself as little as possible, with your clothes wrinkled and your hair a mess, you let him sit by your side, the cold couch caving under him as he settles at a good enough distance that he’s close enough to feel him beside you, but not sticking to your side inappropriately.

The silence with him is a more understanding one. It’s not the first time he’s seen you cry, but you don’t dare say anything. Is there even something to say? You didn't argue, Jungkook didn't run away angry at you, he didn't tell you he hates you and wishes you were somebody else, yet, you feel as if he did something worse. Empty yet full of self deprecating thoughts you wouldn't voice out to the best psychologist on the planet. You couldn’t tell Mingyu even if you wanted to.

A hand, warm and firm, places just above your knee. It’s soft, careful, an innocent touch to understand that he’s there for you. The gesture is oddly comforting, and you allow yourself to feel everything. The embarrassment, the disappointment, the hurt, knowing Mingyu won't judge you for it.

“It’s not your fault.” Mingyu claims, his voice overpowering your racing thoughts.

Maybe it’s the way he says it so sincerely, but you break down even more. Your hands cover your face once again, bending down until your forehead touches your knees. Mingyu’s hand frees itself from the cage you created. He’s definitely had enough of your crying for the night by now. He tried to help and you repay him by dropping half your weight onto his hand and continue crying? If he leaves too, you wouldn’t blame him.

But he doesn’t leave. Instead, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him. “He doesn’t deserve your tears.”

Your heart stops for a second, taking in your closeness and the reason behind it, and what he said about his close friend. Your head lays against Mingyu’s shoulder almost on its own, and he keeps you there, even if your tears start staining his shirt.

“He wasn’t like this before.” Your voice breaks trying to defend the you of the past, and the arm behind you stiffens before you feel his hand hold onto your other shoulder for comfort. “They warned me, and I didn’t listen.”

He shouldn’t be the one to tell you. Mingyu knows that. But you’re so broken, crumbling against him like there’s nothing else you can do, that he almost lets the truth slip out. It’s on the tip of his tongue, the thing that’ll break you even more. But he can’t allow himself to do it.

So, he stays silent, offering a place for you to let out all your feelings. Whatever you need to feel better, even if it’s just a little.

Mingyu doesn’t know how much time passes, or what you’re thinking, but he can feel how your breathing regulates with every second. Eventually, your sniffles become rarer and rarer, you straighten your posture and, unfortunately for him, step away from his hold.

“I’m sorry, I–” You can’t look him in the eyes, taken aback by the realization of what happened, guilt making you trip over your words, “I shouldn’t have–”

Getting up and gathering your things is the only thing you can think of doing. Whatever solace you found in his arms is now gone, replaced by an awkwardness you don’t know how to handle. Mingyu’s eyes bore holes on your back as you pick up your things that fell down when you first entered the apartment without care.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu’s gentle words help you relax, but the need to get out of the apartment is stronger. “You can stay, I don’t want you to leave while being upset.”

“I can’t be here, Mingyu.” You don’t mean to sound so hostile, but everywhere you look is a reminder of how pathetic you just were. It’s pushing you away.

“Is there anything I can do?” Mingyu hovers around you, not wanting to scare you away. He’ll do whatever you ask him to. “Anything.”

“I– I just want to be alone.” You walk yourself to the door, too tired to think about how you feel about everything that happened. Too busy to consider anything else. “I have to get ready for tomorrow.”

“Right, it’s tomorrow.” He’d forgotten about the college thing. Your college thing. He was so busy pretending to mind his own business and hiding from his feelings that he forgot you have your own life too. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Thank you…” Your hand rests on the door handle, hesitating leaving Mingyu after he helped you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your lips tight in the best smile you can manage, in an attempt to not seem mad at him.

“We’ll pick you up in the morning.” Mingyu announces, even if he knows you planned to come on your own.

“There’s no need for that.” You let out a sad, airy chuckle that squeezes Mingyu’s heart.

“No, We’ll–” he starts, but corrects himself, “I’ll pick you up. It’s not up to discussion. You, focus on resting.”

Mingyu takes the decision for you and opens the door himself, both of you ignoring the tingling at the touch of your hands. A quiet mumble goodbye is all you manage to say before going for the elevator. And Mingyu stays at the door until he’s sure the elevator’s going down.

The scorching mid-day sun heated the car so much you can’t rest against it. A few feet ahead, the guys stand in line at the convenience store at the gas station, with mainly energy drinks in hand and a few sandwiches. After driving the entire morning, everyone collectively decided to stop for a while for a bit of leg stretching and to recharge for more hours of driving.

It’s been a weird day from the start.

Mingyu picked you up like he promised, and even made sure you didn’t dare take an uber to their home by texting you they were on the way too early in the morning. You were about to open the uber app when he texted.

You barely got any sleep during the night, your brain switching from replaying the evening at Jungkook’s place and revising for the presentation. You rested so little, yet the usually soothing hum of the car isn’t helping you sleep, choosing to focus on everyone’s voice.

Since you opened your eyes, after tossing and turning all night, you didn’t let yourself think about anything that wasn’t the presentation. When to pause, how much to wave your hands in the air. It worked to an extent. But hearing Jungkook sitting by your side making the effort to talk to Cathlyn, who was sitting in the passenger seat while Mingyu was driving, almost made you go insane.

The only reason you’re alone waiting while the rest of them shop is because you insisted. No, you don’t need to go to the bathroom. No, you don’t want anything specific to eat. No, you don’t need to walk it out. Just in need of a little bit of peace. And Jungkook let you be. He’s been pretending nothing happened the previous night, and you’re glad he’s not forcing you to voice out your thoughts.

The bell above the store’s door chimes as everyone leaves altogether. Instinctively, you reach for the passenger’s door, as the idea was for Mingyu and Jungkook to switch seats so Mingyu can take a rest from driving, but a voice reaches you before you get the chance to open the car.

“Is it okay if I stay there?” Cathlyn runs over to you with a pack of chips in hand.

“Shotgun again?” Jungkook appears behind her, a sly smile on his face before he rounds the car to open the trunk.

She giggles at him but turns her attention back to you when she notices your silence and questioning look. “I’m sorry, I just get really dizzy in the backseat.”

Giving up on reality is easier than fighting it. You’re not going to be the one to deny the poor girl who just got broken up with. Sure, sit with your best friend, laugh with him and ignore the rest of the world outside your bubble. Who cares? “Sure, I don’t mind.”

The car is not that small, but with Cathlyn’s friend, who you didn’t know was coming on the trip until you were in front of the car on the street by your building, you end up between her and Mingyu in the backseat.

Feeling him by your side wakes up flashbacks from the previous night. But if before he was warm and comforting, he’s now rigid in place, looking out the window as the car gets back on the road. You don’t know what you expected, or why you feel a hint of disappointment at the pit of your stomach, but there’s nothing you can really do. You aren’t giving him many chances to be friendly with you either.

For a moment, you’re thankful for the cease in conversation, when Jungkook turns up the volume of the radio and random pop hits start entrancing everyone in the car into listening quietly. Cathlyn and her friend, who they call Mel, bob their heads to the song in sync without realizing, and it’s peaceful.

But then, the next song plays, and the two people sitting in the front part of the car collectively gasp. Mingyu shifts on your side, and you know he recognized what they did too.

“This is the song that–” Cathlyn starts, but they both laugh before she can finish explaining.

“He really hated you for that.” The only reason Jungkook’s eyes are on the road is because he’s driving, because if he weren’t, you’re sure he’d be laughing his ass off with Cathlyn.

“He hated me before too!” She slaps his shoulder before erupting into laughter again. “For no reason may I add.”

All three of you in the backseat just stare at them, listening, waiting for one of them to think of telling the anecdote. Your instincts want nothing more than to look at Mingyu, side eye him for a little help, but you fight them.

“What did you do?” Mel asks by your side, trying to get the attention from the party in the front.

“Our history teacher hated her in senior year.” Jungkook looks at Mel through the rear-view mirror. “She argued with him almost every day.”

“I can see her doing that.” While her friend chuckles at the bit of the story, Cathlyn still doesn’t turn around, almost exclusively laughing with Jungkook.

“And he threatened to fail me on the last test we had!”

“I keep telling you, there’s no way he would’ve done that.”

“It seemed like a very real threat to me.”

“So, you had to blast this song outside the classroom?”

“I had to make a show out of it!”

As they keep bickering about their senior year, leaving you out of the fun, the air around you becomes as awkward as ever. Mel’s laughing with them, the only one paying real attention to their jabs at each other. Mingyu, on the other hand, looks down as he plays with his fingers. You’re… bored.

The conversation you’re not a part of doesn’t interest you, the music’s no longer loud enough to help you take your mind off everything, and you have at least two more hours of agony.

So you focus on the cars on the road, the ones you pass, the ones that pass you, the grass, the animals, the farms, until your eyes finally close on their own.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

When you open your eyes again, the car’s slowing down, arriving at the motel that’ll house the five of you for the following days. It’s still bright outside, but the slightly orange tones in the sky and your stomach growling indicate the beginning of the evening.

A familiar hard surface below your temple holds your head in place. When exactly you fell asleep is the first question that pops up in your head. The second one answers itself quickly.

“We’re here.” Mingyu’s low voice accompanies his soft grip just above your knee, with a little reminder of the last time it was there.

As you lift your head and stretch your neck until it pops, it hits you. You fell asleep on Mingyu’s shoulder. A whole two hours where you bothered him, again. Made him take care of you, again.

“You should’ve woken me up.” Mingyu shakes his head at your intent of an apology, but you interrupt him before he speaks up, “I’m sure you were uncomfortable.”

“Really, I didn’t mind.” In the background, Cathlyn and Mel excuse themselves out of the car to look for their room in a rush. “I can wash all the drool off my shirt just fine.”

“I do not drool.” The way he chuckles compels you to join him. It’s easy, and the first time you even smiled in the day.

The door to the driver’s seat shuts closed with force, and both you and Mingyu scurry to get out of the car as soon as possible.

You don’t miss the way Jungkook studies you as he hands each of you your bags from the trunk. Cold as ice, he stays silent when Mingyu excuses himself to find their shared room.

“If your plan’s to make me jealous, that’s not gonna cut it.” Jungkook’s voice surprises you from behind, and the frown he wears on his face accompanies the angry tone.

“I didn’t plan anything.” He doesn’t speak to you the whole trip, and now he has the audacity to be mad at you? “But by the looks of it, whatever you think I did, it clearly worked.”

“Already looking for a rebound?” He follows behind you to the entrance of the motel.

“Jungkook, I don’t have time for this.”

You have hours and hours of practice ahead of you, and they might not be enough for your talk to be perfect. He knows the congress is a big deal to you, or at least he should. You can’t be thinking about anything else. Not about him. Not about your relationship with him. Not about Mingyu.

“Are you planning to break up with me?” You’ve never heard him talk like this before. He doesn’t sound hurt, just angry, jealous.

You scoff. “If you keep being an asshole, I might.” The answer blurts out without checking with your brain first. He didn’t expect you to say something back. You didn’t either.

“Fine.” Jungkook crosses his arms, waiting for you to say the words you’re not even sure you want to utter. “Do it.”

“Look, I can’t deal with this right now.” You take a deep breath, trying to think clearly, to not do anything impulsively. “You’re mad and I’m stressed. It’s not the best time.”

“Are you saying you’ll do it tomorrow?”

“What? I’m not saying anything, Jungkook, stop.” Your bag’s heavy on your shoulder as you rack your brain for anything to help you out of this. “Why don’t we take the night off, I’ll practice for tomorrow, you can relax after all the driving, and we’ll have a proper talk tomorrow. Okay?”

Jungkook huffs, mumbling something close to a ‘fine then, bye’ before storming off.

The back of your throat feels dry and hoarse from the hours of speech practice. How to modulate correctly, how to make your voice bigger. It takes a toll on you. 

When you and your friends planned to do the finishing touches the night before the congress, none of you thought you’d be trapped in a tiny motel room for hours, tweaking the words to seem more professional, timing yourselves to fit in the 15 minute time slot, and even going as far as to plan when and how to look at the screen behind you.

Your stomach growls incessantly. You haven’t had anything to eat in hours, besides the simple dinner the three of you had after setting up in your rooms. Seeing every one of you is tired, the girls don’t stop you when you get up and leave the room in search of a vending machine.

Somehow, the balcony has better lighting than your hallway, and you spot a big vending machine just outside your hallway. Picking a snack is not hard when your tummy begs for anything, so you grab the random chip bag you picked and begin to head back when you hear a loud thud and a curse coming from the next hallway.

Judging by which hallway you’re walking into, and the sheer size of the person bending over in pain in front of their door, it’s Mingyu.

“Are you okay?” You rush to help him in any way you can.

Mingyu’s head shoots your way and he curses again. “Shit, it’s you, hi, yeah.” He grunts in between words and tries to stand up straight. “I closed the door right in my hand. It’s no big deal, really. Go rest for tomorrow.”

Even from afar, you could see the sweat stains on the back of his sleeveless t-shirt. His shallow breathing and sweat dripping down his hair and face welcome you as you reach him. It's a sight. His skin glistening under the white hallway lights catches your attention a second longer than it should before it goes back to the cause of his pain.

“You’re bleeding!” Taking a closer look at the hand he’s holding, you see a growing red bubble right under the ring finger’s nail. “Let’s get you inside.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Shut up and go put your hand under running cold water.” After he’s helped you so many times, the least you can do is google what to do when someone has a bubble of blood growing under their nail.

The empty room catches your attention as you read the quick answers your search pulled up. “Jungkook’s not here?”

Looking over to the open bathroom door, Mingyu’s hand is under the running tap like you instructed, but he’s staring at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. He must know about the fight you two had.

“He went out with some friends that came here too.” He answers before giving up and drying his hand. “It’s not clearing out.”

You should be used to him sitting closely by your side. Your breath shouldn’t quicken and your hands shouldn’t sweat as the bed creaks below him. Actually, you need to stop getting into situations where Mingyu needs to sit beside you. But you can’t help it.

Maybe focusing on his minor injury can help your body relax. “Okay, so, google says it should go away on its own in like… two or three days.” Even if there’s so many questions you have for him that you avoided all day, it’s not the time.

“I'll have to stay with a blood bubble on my finger for days?” His threatening pout lifts your mood quickly.

You chuckle, taking his hand in yours once again. “Does it hurt?” Mingyu shakes his head with a small smile growing in his face, letting you have your way.

Now that he’s calmer than when you found him outside, his fingers relax in your hold as you look for any bruises. His hand that held you and comforted you one too many times, now being taken care of by you. Rushes of warm blood follow where your skin meets his, even the lightest of touches aren't free of his effect on you.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Your mouth betrays you once again, voicing out your thoughts instead of getting through the silence. “Your friends.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” His answer is simple. And you wish it was enough to satiate your curiosity, but you simply can't stop asking questions.

“Nothing more?” You don't know what you expect him to answer. Maybe you're just looking for excuses to keep talking to him, to stay in the momentary bubble that surrounds you every time you’re with him.

“I haven't been… liking him much lately.”

Mingyu's careful with his choice of words. Still believing it’s not his place to talk about what goes on in Jungkook’s life, he can’t not be honest with you, not when you’re so close to him he’s sure you can read every expression on his face.

A drop of sweat drips down the side of his face, training your eyes to follow its way down until it dampens the side of his mouth.

“You're best friends.” A remainder, more to yourself than to him.

“Doesn't mean I have to agree with everything he does.”

Mingyu hopes you understand the meaning behind his words.

You hope he doesn't notice the way your eyes stayed too long on his moving lips before going back to his eyes.

You both hope for things you can't voice out, charging the little space between your stares with electricity. With his hand forgotten in your hold, reading his expression becomes your main task.

None of you dare move, and you know, somehow, that he's waiting for you to do something –anything. What you don't know is what you want.

Your phone chimes in your back pocket just when you part your lips to speak. There's a millisecond, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't watching Mingyu's gaze closely, where his eyes drift down your face. With your lips dry at his attention, you break the spell, letting go of his hand to reach for your phone.

Nayeon asks where you disappeared to, and sends a long chain of suspecting emojis when you tell her who you’re with.

“I–I have to get back.” Getting up from the weak motel bed in a flash, Mingyu's eyes follow you to the door. “Sorry for taking up your time.”

“You gotta stop with that.” He stops you in your tracks, with a soft grip on your wrist to turn you back to him.

“Stop talking like you're a bother.” He doesn't let you dismiss him. “You don't bother me. I wouldn't spend time with you if you did.”

“You didn't use to like me. And now you pity me, that's why you spend time with me.” Even if you'd like to believe otherwise.

“That's not true.” He doesn't let go of you, and you stop aiming to get out the door. “I don't pity you.”

“You never talked to me until you caught me crying that day.” Your head tilts, trying not to seem so serious with your counter argument.

Another text comes through your phone. You shouldn't be wasting time on such an important night. But is it really wasted time if you're spending it with him?

“It wasn't about you.” Mingyu reveals, but it doesn't really clear up your doubts. “I don't like getting to know people I'm not sure will stick around.”

“So, it's true.” You bring your arm out of his grip, a way to protect yourself. “I wasn't supposed to last this long.”

“Look. It's not my place, and I've already gotten too involved.” Mingyu's words fly over you, choosing not to overthink what he means. “Jungkook's shit is Jungkook’s shit, but you can decide what to do too. Don't wait for him to make a decision for you.”

“I'm capable of making my own decisions, Mingyu.” You say, convinced but weary of his tone.

“I know you are. He doesn't.”

The silence is striking, breathtaking, heartstopping. Words don't come up in your brain, an infinite echo of Mingyu's remark rendering you incapable of following a simple order.

“See you tomorrow.” You can only offer him a small smile before finally leaving the room full of him.

The applause almost breaks you down. You can finally take a deep breath. The thing you’ve been preparing for weeks, taking up most of your sleep time and raising the bar for how much stress you can handle, is finally done.

Well, not completely. Your speech is done, yes, but the time for questions begins. Jennie and Nayeon answer everything swiftly as your eyes scan the room for any known faces. You finished the presentation and you can barely catch your breath as your heart tries to slow down, so they take on the most annoying part of the job.

From across the room, behind the people eager to ask their questions with their hands in the air or attentively listen to your friends’ responses, the tall man only looking at you makes your heart stop.

Was he there the whole time? When you speak in a room full of people, you tend to disappear into your own mind, barely registering what surrounds you until your time’s up. He could've just got here, but deep down you know he didn’t. Deep down, you know he’s been there since the start, supporting you without your knowledge.

As a hand on your shoulder starts gently dragging you away from the stand, splitting the way between your connected stares, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. You're done, you can carry on with your life. 

In the hallway just outside where you just spent the most stressful hours of your life, you can hear the next group beginning their presentation, one that luckily you’re not required to be present for. Perks of being in the line up.

Getting out the other door, Mingyu searches for you and finds you walking over to him with the biggest smile adorning your face.

“What did you think?” Your friends’ giggles make it to your ears from behind. Merging the constant teasing you’re the victim of with their infatuation with Mingyu is dangerous, but there really is only one thing in your mind now.

“You talked really well.” The highlight of every word as his eyebrows wiggle with confusion lights a warmth in your belly that spreads across your body into a chuckle.

“You didn’t understand a thing, did you?” 

“I didn’t.” It’s his chuckle, and his smile, and his eyes glimmering, and his chin tilted down to get a better look at you.

Have you ever felt this way before? Easy under someone’s gaze, unafraid of making them feel less intelligent. He’s… genuinely happy for you. Out of all the presentations in the schedule, your subject matter was the least close to his field, yet he chose to listen to your sociology lesson.

“Thank you for coming.” You say before the magic fades. “You–you didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t want to miss it.” He’s the most genuine he can possibly be.

Mingyu undoubtedly, and selfishly, cares about you. From the sidelines, he saw you getting the opportunity, the toll the preparations were taking on you. He wasn’t going to skip one of the biggest moments of your life after seeing you struggle for so long.

“That makes one of you.” You don’t mean it to sound as spiteful, but the sour taste in your mouth as you realize who isn’t present triggers the resentful tone. “Anyway, I’m not gonna let some asshole ruin my day! We’re going to celebrate with the girls and some guys I have no idea how they managed to make friends with, do you want to come?”

Mingyu doesn't think about what you mean behind your invitation. “Sure, if you want me there.” He’d jump at any chance he got to spend time with you. 

Ever since that night at the pool bar, Mingyu never forgot your willingness to not let one bad moment overshadow an otherwise enjoyable day. A quality he could learn from. That’s why, he also can’t forget about the moments he comforted you, when everything became so overwhelming you had no choice but to let it all out.

“Let’s go then!” Your hand aims to stretch back for him to take, but the little angel on your shoulder wins this round, and you just walk out the hall with Mingyu following you, hand hanging cold by your side.

The evening sky greets you on the outside world, and the fresh air filling your lungs after being trapped inside the suffocating new college is very welcomed by your body.

Following your friends wherever they go, letting them choose which bar or club to go celebrate, you can only smile and silently walk behind them. Mingyu’s towering presence occupies the space to your right. He’s also silent, admiring the new city, letting you have the unspeaking moment you need.

It’s not long before you’re getting into a club with flashing colored lights and loud pop music coming out of the speakers. The sense of accomplishment embodies you whole. One less thing to worry about, one less thing weighing you down. You won't let anyone take the freedom from you.

It’s a carefree night. You let yourself be dragged to the packed dance floor, your friends leading the way amidst all the bodies crowding as they dance out of sync.

Being drunk could never compare to the happiness you feel as you join everyone dancing. You allow the music to take over you, with your hips and limbs coordinating to the rhythm of each song playing, blending into the sea of people.

You don't know when, you don't care how, and with no will to stop, you and Mingyu drift towards each other, the little space and dim atmosphere making it easy to hide everything wrong with what you're doing.

“You're happy.” Mingyu leans down to say to your ear. The only way you could hear him over all the noise.

“I am!” You don't fight the smile growing in your lips, focusing on the way Mingyu's eyes scan your face under the blue lights.

This time, the battle between the little angel and the devil dictating your choices ends with the victory of the mischievous voice that tells you to inch closer to Mingyu.

With the excuse of the loud music, you stand on your tiptoes to reach the side of his face, your lips grazing his ear as you say, “I'm glad you came.”

His hands steady you in place before you lose your balance, holding onto your hips and keeping you in place.

You should swat his hands away. He should stand back from the girl who isn't his. The tension sizzles from the tip of his fingers barely dipping into a bit of uncovered skin and up your body until your chest tightens.

“I'm sure you'd want someone else here.” Even with the scandalous meaning behind his words, you don't ignore the light teasing tone he purposely uses.

“I'm not thinking about him right now.” His eyes search for yours, finding only truth in them.

The people surrounding you, unscrupulously dancing against each other and paying you no mind, sway your bodies from side to side. Neither of you make a move to separate, letting the pushing crowd be the excuse for your closeness. You have the urge to wrap your arms around his neck, but you fight it. Maybe if he was something else, you would.

But the universe would never let you be this careless without some karma waiting for you.

When your gaze reluctantly disconnects from Mingyu's in search for your friends, the sight of two familiar people catches your attention a few meters to the side. You should've known he was with her. That he'd choose her over you even for this.

They're just dancing, and you can't complain about it because you're currently in the arms of another man too. It's just… different. 

Your hands find Mingyu's still on your sides, grabbing them softly to get them off you as your eyes go from the scene you just witnessed to him and then back. Of course, he gets it immediately.

“I can talk to him.” Mingyu has this instinct now, to shield you from having a bad time.

“No, I'll do it. I have a few things in mind to say.” While you appreciate him wanting to help, it’s something you have to do on your own. You can’t shield behind Mingyu any longer.

Making the sacrifice of looking like a psychotic girlfriend, the adrenaline moves your legs forward, no time to think further about what you’re about to do. They don’t see you coming, they probably didn’t even see you with Mingyu before, too sucked into their bubble to notice other people.

“Jungkook.” His shocked expression just confirms your theory. He notices you’re mad quickly, but the wheels turning in his mind, failing to find the reason for your anger, are so visible you can’t control your mouth. “Glad to see you’re having fun.”

“Hi, babe! I didn’t—see you come in!” He leans into the wall behind him for support, body as stiff as ever. “Having a good time?”

“Are you kidding me?” Admittedly, you’re raising your voice a few decibels over the necessary amount, but you’ve never cared less about drawing attention than at this moment. “You really forgot, huh?”

Only then, Jungkook realizes he messed up. It’s not normal to see you angry, especially not at him. “Let’s talk outside, okay? It’s quieter.”

You catch his eyes going back to Cathlyn before he places a hand on your lower back to direct you to the door. Astonishing, really.

“You could make it less obvious, at least.” The harsh cold night wind slaps you even more awake. “I’m not stupid, Jungkook.”

You’re not dressed to be standing outside on the street at this hour. The city’s too windy, making you shiver as if it was the middle of winter. You don’t want to look weak in Jungkook’s eyes, you need to look like you stand your ground. The cold is a mental state anyway, you can fight it.

“You’re not, babe, but what are you talking about? What are you doing here?” His cluelessness does everything but help his situation.

“We’re celebrating that our presentation was a success.” At the news, everything clicks in Jungkook’s mind.

“It was today.” Jungkook reminds himself out loud.

“Of course it was today! Why else do you think we drove all this way?” He has to be a special kind of disengaged and disinterested to selectively wipe his memory like this, you think.

“I’m sorry, baby! So much happened today, and I thought you didn’t want to see me after last night.”

“Don’t use one fight as an excuse. You forgot or you didn’t care. Either way, this was important to me and you didn’t come.”

People passing you on the street side eye the scene you’re making. Jungkook seems to care about being judged, taking in account the way his eyes widen at every raise of your voice.

At his silence, you keep going. “What did Cathlyn fucking need this time? What could have possibly been more important than your girlfriend?” It feels pathetic to call yourself that.

“You have to understand,” his voice becomes tense at the utterance of her name, “she’s my best friend. She means everything to me.”

You’re positive she’s listening to all of this. Hiding behind the club’s door waiting for the chance to come out and comfort her oh so dear best friend. It’s not her fault, but it’s hard not to grow an ill feeling thinking about her.

“Don’t I mean anything? Why get into a relationship with me if you won’t take it seriously? If you’re in love with someone else?”

It’s hard to form an articulated sentence when the anger and the sadness spar in your mind. It’s hard not to feel desperate, a pitiful attempt at making a careless man care about you.

Your gaze trains on the floor, tuning out Jungkook’s lame excuses and not truthful apologies. Without looking at him, and with only the grey sidewalk on sight, it’s like you can think clearly for the first time.

“I’m sorry, baby, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” It’s just a moment where you let his words register, and it’s the last thing you need to decide.

“No. You won’t.”

Jungkook shuts up instantly. Your gaze doesn’t falter this time, locking into his with your best poker face. You can see every thought passing through his mind, every little reaction he fights to show. He analyzes your expression, looking for another meaning, for any sign that you don’t mean what you said.

“I promise I will, baby, c’mon.”

The thing is, after so many promises, those words coming out of his mouth become meaningless. They’re just empty words he uses to get you to forgive him, he’s not being truthful, he’s just begging so he can feel better with himself.

“No! You won’t! That was your last chance.” It gets clearer and clearer to him what you’re saying.

You shouldn't have been silently enduring the scraps of his attention he was giving you. Waiting for your growing feelings to be reciprocated by someone who doesn’t respect you. Those feelings, however big or small —you’re not sure, quickly started dissipating at the realization that he simply didn’t care. It wasn’t his memory, or his busy schedule, it was the lack of intention. Care and intention he always showed to someone else.

“Babe…” He sounds like he gave up too, one last pity attempt you know he doesn’t mean.

“We’re done. You never wanted to be with me, and I certainly don’t want to be with you anymore.”

When you start walking away, Jungkook doesn’t stop you, standing where you left him with his eyes lost to the ghostly street.

Realizing the burden he’s been on your life and letting it go finally lets you see clearly. Your night might’ve been ruined, but you’re liberated from that pain. You’re not happy, but you’re not sad either, just walking forward, a new future ahead.

You’ve walked almost two whole blocks, the motel a half block away, when the sound of rushed steps chasing you alerts you. You didn’t think anyone would be coming after you, but you realize who it is right when the figure appears in your line of sight.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu’s breathless, slowing his pace to match yours. He definitely heard everything that happened.

“Yeah, I think so.” Even if you sound convinced, he stays walking with you.

“I’ll walk you inside.” He doesn’t look back, deciding on what to do. But you know he should be making sure his friend is okay. You guess he is, though.

“I'll be fine. You can stay with—”

“I want to make sure you’re okay.” Mingyu interrupts you before you can say the other’s name. “I don't care about him right now.”

Your heart stops for a moment before your brain catches up. All those times Jungkook left you and Mingyu came right to the rescue, when he got annoyed at them in the pool bar, or admitting he didn’t like what Jungkook was “choosing”. Of course he has to know how his best friend and roommate feels about everyone.

“You knew it all this time.” He doesn’t look at you, staring at the distance as he listens closely. “That he’s in love with her.”

“I didn't want to be the one to tell you.”

Your room door’s just one step away now, but you still stop in your tracks at his words. You never thought of his silence as his way to shield you from the truth. You never thought that the initial pity he took on you —even if he denies it, came from a place of hiding something from you.

“He was in love with somebody else while being with me! That’s the kind of thing you need to tell me!” Luckily, the hallway is completely deserted at this hour. You wouldn’t want to make another scene. You’re more aware of everything now, free but raw, as if anything could scar you.

“It wasn't my place!” For a second you understand Mingyu. Imagining him even implying it hurts more than realizing the truth yourself. But it still hurts. You trusted him with your most vulnerable moments, and all that time he hid that he knew the real cause for that pain. “And don't act like you didn't know it too.”

Mingyu’s harsh comment feels like a punch in the gut. There’s no malice in his tone, you’ve come to know him and his tendency to be too direct sometimes, it was just unexpected this time.

But he is right. There were signs everywhere for you to see, signs you turned a blind eye to. It was a thought that often crossed the back of your mind, but you dismissed it before you could think about it further. You were stupid to think you were paranoid and it meant nothing.

“Stop.” You realize you weren't looking at him and shoot your gaze up. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t blame yourself. He’s the asshole and you’re not at fault for believing him.”

“But I shouldn’t have. I thought I was smarter than that, turns out I’m just dumb.” You want to curl up in bed, hide from the judging outside world and forget all about Jungkook and the past few weeks. But not all of it.

“He’s the dumb one for not seeing how great you are.” Mingyu's hand on your shoulder manages to comfort you enough to hold off on the tears. “Are you okay? About breaking it off?”

“I know it was the right choice for me. But I have to assimilate it, I think. Sleep it off”

Mingyu nods in acknowledgement as your hand reaches for the doorknob. As if that was your way of ending the conversation, he turns his body to head out the grimy hallway, because he knows what’s next. You’ll cut off everything related to your now ex, a pack of memories in which he himself is included. This is why he shouldn’t have gotten involved with you. There’s no way you’ll want to be in touch with him after everything.

“Mingyu.” It’s your voice that makes him turn around. Even considering how heartbroken you must be, there’s a slight grin on your face as you think about what to say next. “I didn’t say I wanted to be alone.”

His heart accelerates as if it was miles ahead of the thought process his brain is having a hard time catching up with. Still, beyond whatever he wants and feels, he knows you need some time to think clearly, someone to be there for you regardless of feelings.

At his hesitation, you open the door and look back at him as you enter. It’s a clear invitation, one he accepts immediately.

After closing the door behind him, the unmade bed calls his name and he sits at the edge to take his shoes off as you begin your night routine in front of the bathroom mirror.

“I’m curious about something.” You look cute smothering moisturizing cream all across your face, Mingyu thinks. “Do you think she likes him back?”

He finds it in himself to chuckle. “Do you really want to talk about that right now?”

“Look, I won’t be sad about it if I can turn it into a gossip session later. It’s my way of getting over things, so please just indulge me this time.”

You’re looking at him as you tap your face with the pads of your fingers. Mingyu doesn’t see an ounce of sadness in your expression, instead, you’re very serious with what you’re asking. And he won’t argue with that logic, if that’s what it takes to help you forget and spend more time with you.

“She never told me anything.” Your half closed eyes and head turned to the side signal Mingyu to keep talking. “If he confessed, I think she could like him back. They already act like a couple anyway.”

Mingyu realizes he went too far. You don’t say anything, but your shoulders slouch before you grab your pajamas from the nightstand and lock yourself in the bathroom. That was definitely not what you wanted to hear. Shit.

“I hope they can finally realize they’re idiots.” When the door opens to reveal the loose but all too revealing clothes barely covering your body, Mingyu can almost hear all the air in his lungs escaping at once. “Are you getting in bed?”

Maybe it’s his mind playing sick games with him. You can’t possibly be asking him to slip under the covers with you and be calm about it. There’s a lot of things he can calmly face up to. The idea of laying down so close to the person who’s been making a mess of his every thought is not one of those. 

Still, he follows suit with your not so indirect invite. He doesn’t want to make assumptions about you, about the situation, or about what you want, so he lets you take the lead for tonight. Trusting that you’ll show him what you need and believing that he can give it to you.

The both of you lay awkwardly side by side, facing the ceiling deep in thought. Only the breathing sounds and the way your arm grazes against his keep Mingyu’s senses in check. He feels like a highschooler having his first conversation with his crush. He can no longer be the cool, calm self he praised himself to be. So, he resorts to silence.

“Was he always like that? Ending relationships after realizing it’s not what he wants?” You turn in your place, facing him with those doe eyes of yours that always make him fold.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think it’s the girls that break up with him.” He mirrors your position, feeling better at the entire situation when he sees your smile at his comment.

“Good for them.”

There’s something in your gaze that makes Mingyu question if it’s worth it to be loyal to his friend. Though that moral code must’ve been broken already, there’s still a line, no matter how thin, he hasn’t crossed yet. Emphasis on ‘he’, because he can never be sure what’s your next move.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He dares to ask again.

Mingyu’s hyper aware of how close you are. How you shift a bit closer to him as you think your answer. He thought the clothes he was wearing were okay to sleep in, but his bodily temperature keeps rising at the thought of you.

“I still feel a bit stupid.” He can’t stand hearing you talk about yourself like that, but he doesn’t get to argue. You shut his mouth closed, placing your index finger on the center of his lips before he can utter a word. A touch so innocent he immediately feels bad at how electrifying it felt. “My friends warned me that his relationships never lasted. And I guess I wanted to see it for myself. Have the empirical data, if you will.”

He sees your gaze go down from his eyes, and your hand goes down with it to whatever caught your attention. He swallows hard, waiting for just one signal. The chain around his neck tugs at the back, and he realizes you’re inspecting the little charm hanging from it.

“It’s not like I was in love with him.” Every word you say feels like fire on his end. “He was fun at first. That’s what I liked about him.”

You play with Mingyu’s chain like it’s second nature. Like you don’t realize your hand’s dangerously close to his chest, about to feel the beating of his heart growing stronger each second.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” That makes your eyes go up again, eyelashes fluttering so close he could count each one of them.

“I get why you didn’t, you’re a good friend. And I think it was better for me to realize on my own, if that makes you feel any better.” The smile that grows on him matches yours perfectly.

“I don’t know how much of a good friend I am anymore.” The honesty slips out of him under your scanning stare. “I’m here after all, aren’t I?”

Mingyu should feel guilty. He left the bar to go after you without so much of a second thought, leaving his supposed best friend to deal with everything on his own. That’s how much he cares about you. His need for you overflows into every area of his life, making the guilt disappear into the stream of things that don’t matter. You’re not taken anymore. And, deep down, he knows Jungkook’s going to be fine. He doesn’t care about you even a fraction of how much Mingyu does.

He’s still deep in thought when he feels your hand going up the side of his jaw. Your icy fingers contrast against his fiery skin, driving him to lean into your touch. He’d close his eyes and let you do anything you wanted if it wasn’t for the intoxicating force of your gaze.

The irrational part of his brain doesn’t let him stop you as your face gets closer so his. You’re slowly testing the waters, seeing if he’ll back down, but Mingyu’s quicker, and leans down the last millimeters to finally connect.

Your lips melt against his with a soft sigh, and everything stills for a moment. Enveloped with the tenderness of your touch, he feels you hazily pressing further against him, unsurely yearning for more.

But the rational part of his brain, the one that tugs on the last strand of morale he has, retrieves his head from your electrifying kiss.

“We shouldn’t—” Mingyu regrets it instantly at the sight of your saddened eyes. But he knows it’s for the best. He couldn’t live with himself if you weren’t sure.

“You don’t want to?” The way your hand flies away from his personal space almost makes him take it and put it back where it belongs.

“I do.” He sounds desperate. He needs you to understand. “But you should see how you feel when you have a clear mind.”

A thousand thoughts rush through your mind, visibly turning your expression soft again. Mingyu offers his arm for you to lay on, the most outlandish peace offering he can make without losing his mind first.

“Okay.” Your soft voice reverberates up his arm as you lay your head on his relaxed bicep. “Do you want to leave?”

He couldn't begin to imagine any dimension in the multiverse where he'd choose to stay away from the featheriness of your skin against his. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I asked you first.” Your light chuckle heals the worry beginning to creep up on Mingyu. In the future, he'll make sure you never doubt him again.

“I don't want to leave.”

The way your smile keeps making a blank slate of his brain should worry Mingyu. But he's never felt this way before, and if there's a chance, however big or small, that you could feel the same way, he won't go back.

“And I want you to stay.”

The morning sun rays bleed through the flimsy curtain, illuminating the otherwise plain motel room in a golden light. You feel warm all around, wrapped in Mingyu’s arms instead of the bedsheets that sometime along the night seem to have fallen to the floor.

But even in the confinement of Mingyu’s backhug, you feel free. What has been dragging your spirit through the floor finally cut from your life. The previous night’s events faded to a distant memory as soon as you laid your head in Mingyu’s chest and drifted to the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

You don’t dare turn in his hold, afraid to wake him up and make him face the day. That’s the one thing you haven’t been able to dust off since you opened your eyes. The guilt.

Maybe for you, cutting Jungkook out of your life was the best decision, but Mingyu was his friend first, and last night, for whatever reason, he chose you. He chose to comfort the whiny girl that dumped his boyfriend instead of his best friend since they were in the womb.

The morning with him feels like sunrises on the beach, like a warm cup of coffee on the coldest day, like being trapped in an infinite bear hug. It feels like hope. And the guilt from wanting it all could consume you whole just like the need for him.

Mingyu must have mind reading superpowers, because his arms tighten around you before the guilt overwhelms you, easily forgetting it all at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

Neither of you say anything, sharing the comfortable silence, relishing being in each other’s arms. You don’t stop him when he tangles his legs with yours, feeling him everywhere from head to toe. You let your hands caress his forearms as they drift dangerously close to your lower belly.

It’s wrong. It’s definitely wrong on some moral level. Borderline evil even. It’s too soon, and you need to understand what you’re feeling before moving forward with whatever this is. This that feels so nice, so right, but so wrong.

Mingyu doesn’t seem to be having the same moral dilemma that’s running around your mind anymore. The hardness you feel pressing against your inner thigh followed by a gasp that spreads goosebumps all across your back confirming your theory.

In the morning haze, in the limbo between days where time doesn’t run and actions don’t have consequences, you give into his infectious desire. The agreement you made the night before flying out the window as soon as a fire ignites all across your body.

You purposely grind against him, the indecent action causing your face to feel even warmer. A low moan gets caught in Mingyu’s throat at the feeling of your ass against his morning wood, one hand gripping your hip to keep you in place.

“What are you doing?” His raspy voice sends another fire down your body, making you squirm in his grip.

“Nothing.” You feign innocence, pretending to straighten your posture but ultimately pressing yourself harder against his chest. “You don't like it?”

The space between your bodies is crushed impossibly tighter until all you can feel are his muscles tensing in his search for you. The barrier you left standing the night before, demolished with little care as he sighs to your ear.

“It's not that, princess,” every bit of skin Mingyu touches works like a button to make you need him more and more, “we should wait.”

You'd agree with him if it wasn't for the elastic of your sleeping shorts stretching to fit his wandering hand. It’s a timid action, one that contradicts his words but only gets encouraged by your gasp. These aren’t the hands that held you close when you were broken, no, these are the ones that felt you shiver pretending to teach you to play pool, the ones that pushed you against him in the dimness of the club. The ones you crave with your whole body.

At your reaction, he drifts further down, playing with the hem of your panties so painfully slow the grip of your hand on his forearm grows stronger with each second he doesn't fully touch you. His lips graze your shoulder, trying to contain himself from kissing every inch he can reach.

When he flattens on your pelvis, pressing you against his faltering hips, you swear your whimper drives him to not so innocently thrust behind you. The room is impossibly hot, but you don’t care, nothing matters other than your need to feel him inside.

Your mouth opens, hoping to work enough to plead for him, but a loud knock on your door startles you both out of the embrace.

If the earth it’s going to swallow you at any point in life, you hope it’s right then and there. Your panties are uncomfortably sticky as your embarrassed gaze connects with Mingyu, the both of you speechless with guilt. The most awkward second ever before another knock echoes into the room.

“Tell Jennie I’ll be out in a second? I promised her we’d go out for breakfast together.”

The embarrassment doesn’t let you look at him a second longer before you lock yourself in the bathroom. Maybe a splash of cold water on your face can help you not look like you just got cockblocked.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

However Mingyu thought his morning would go, the reality was far from his imagination, though it felt far better. He wouldn't mind waking up next to you again, heating up your skin with his touch until you whimper for him.

The sight of you, just woken up and shy at the boldness of what you just did, puts a sheepish smirk on his face. He almost forgets the wrongness of everything. But the decision he made, selfish and long forgotten, quickly comes back to bite him in the ass as he opens the door.

“Wow, this is a nice sight!” Jungkook's face morphs into sarcastic shock as the door reveals a disheveled Mingyu.

“What are you doing here?” In all honesty, Mingyu didn’t think about his friend last night, deep down knowing he wasn’t going to be hurt for long.

“Are you her bodyguard now? I just want to talk about last night.” Jungkook attempts to take half a step into your room, but Mingyu immediately blocks the door.

“It’s not the time to get in my way, man.” The baseless threat doesn’t make Mingyu budge in the slightest, which pisses Jungkook off. The man’s eyes widen after scanning the state of the room. “Did you fuck her?”

“What?” Mingyu can't believe what he's hearing. 

“I asked, Did. You. Fuck. Her?” Speaking each word with clenched teeth, Jungkook's voice bleeds anger.

“Why do you care?”

Jungkook barely lets him finish his question. “So you fucked her.”

The crude language puts a bitter taste in Mingyu's mouth. As if only the sex mattered and not everything else. Not that he comforted you at your weakest, that you opened up your heart to him, that you kissed him so softly he almost passed out. Mingyu can only hope the bathroom door miraculously becomes soundproof.

“Don't pretend to care about her now.” Never in his life has he talked to Jungkook this way, always afraid of what could happen to their friendship if he tried to put some sense into him. Then again, his actions never hurt someone Mingyu actually cared about.

“I bet you couldn’t wait for me to dump her.” The words spit out of Jungkook’s mouth like acid. “Eager to take on my leftovers.”

“Dude, I get that you're mad, but you're getting out of line.” The peacemaker in Mingyu takes over —it’s either that or a punch in the face, and tries to get his friend back in the hallway.

“I’m not mad!” He gasps with a hand to his chest. “Just shocked, that's all. Didn’t even let a day pass.” Venom coats every word he says, justifiably betrayed by the one friend he thought he could always count with.

“I didn’t mean for it to come to this,” Mingyu admits quietly, “I wasn’t supposed to care.”

There’s nothing as Jungkook processes those words. A tense second that becomes an infinite one, a void sucking every apology out of his mouth. Mingyu would pay millions to know what’s going on in his friend’s head. He could always tell what he was feeling even when he shut everyone off. But he was never the one causing his anger.

“I can g—”

“I’ll take the bus home with Cathy.” Is all Jungkook says.

His blank face waits for Mingyu to nod before walking away with no second thoughts. Out of the million outcomes he thought for this conversation, Mingyu never thought he’d be the one left speechless. But they both clearly need some time alone before going back to being roommates, before talking like two grown adults and resolving this.

It’s the sound of a door closing just meters behind him that takes him back to the room, your room.

Mingyu doesn’t know what to do to shield you from the hurt. He’s tired of simply being there to comfort you in the aftermath. He can’t stand the sight before him, your lips turn downwards trying to get a hold of your feelings. He can see it all, the process of all the emotions going through your brain, until your face settles to a serious expression.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Mingyu stays at the threshold of the door, not sure if you’d still want him as company.

“Don’t be. I’m glad I did.” You stay put in place, half a step from the messy bed, looking everywhere but at him. “At least I don’t have to feel guilty anymore.”

Guilt. That’s what he noticed when he gained consciousness and felt you tense in his hold. “About what happened earlier—”

“I’m sorry about that,” you interrupt him in his hesitation, “you said you didn’t want to and I crossed the line.”

“It’s not—” Your lips part in surprise as your eyes fly to his. “I—shit, I don’t want you to think I’m only being nice for something in return.”

“You should be glad I don’t think of you that way.” It’s a weird feel of rejection, the one in your heart as you start picking up your things. A man says he doesn’t want to have sex after rubbing himself against you and fighting with your ex boyfriend. “We should pack, get ready to leave.”

“What do you think of me then?”

Mingyu standing leaning against the doorframe, following your every move with his eyes, makes you stumble upon every possible obstacle on your way. Even with your gaze elsewhere, you can feel him watching your every move.

“I think you’re a good man that lacks a sense of urgency.” Unfortunately, you didn’t bring much stuff on the trip, and you’re getting to the end of things to take your mind off of Mingyu. “Are you going to stare at me all day?”

“I like you.” Mingyu’s sure about a lot of things, but at the weight lifting from his shoulders, the way you stop at his words and how you wait for him to continue, he’s certain he’s never felt like this before. “I’m sorry if that's weird and wrong to say, but I do.”

“I—” There’s no way to describe it, how your mind clears of any reasonable thought the second those words escape Mingyu’s lips.

“You don’t have to say anything. Like I said last night, I want you to figure out how you feel on your own time. I’ll be here, you can count on me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His assurance helps. He somehow always knows how to help you, what to say, how to act.

Before you know it, you’re face to face with him, his warmth embracing you as he tilts his head down, waiting for your next move. Your cheek lays softly on his chest after wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tightly, the only way you have to express your gratitude.

Warm air effortlessly fills your lungs, the scent of him coating every one of your senses as he replicates your hug. His arms feel right around you, as if you were meant to be like this forever, and you relax in his hold.

“Thank you.” Two simple words that mean so much more are the only thing you manage to utter, hoping he'll understand. 

“Always.”

Some girls my friends met at the congress came to town and begged for us to take them to a club Do you want to come? It’s close to my place

As soon as you press send, you throw your phone at your bed on the other side of the room.

It’s been two weeks since the most eventful weekend of your life. Two weeks since you finally stood up for yourself and chose your well being for once. Two weeks since Mingyu started being one of the most important parts of your everyday life.

Those afternoons when he made you wonder if you actually fit in his friend’s life, when the thought of him would cause you an immediate headache, feel like a ghost of the past. You couldn’t imagine not being around him now, not receiving his ominous texts in the middle of the night after he finishes a random project for college that you don’t understand, or not seeing his face after class when he picks you up and  rambles about how good his class was that day.

He promised he’d be there for you, waiting for you to see how you feel about him without expecting anything in return. And every day that passes, the hurt and confusion fades away bit by bit, and a new, stronger, unexplored, feeling grows in your heart.

You don’t know what compelled you to invite Mingyu out of nowhere. You’re fully dressed, about to leave and with your friends already waiting on your building’s front door, but something at the back of your mind itched with a potent need to see him. Your fingers clicked on his contact and texted him before you could realize what you were doing.

It’s not two minutes later that your phone vibrates with a new notification. Your skin crawls with the combined anxiety of wanting to see him but also not wanting to see him at all. The usual two feelings that fight to take over every time you think of him.

You’re quick to run out your apartment before your friends come up and drag you out themselves. With your unlocked phone in hand, Mingyu’s name lights up your screen.

Sure. Text me address. I’ll meet you there.

The simplicity of his texts always makes you chuckle, embarrassingly smitten by his short sentences. You quickly text him the name and address before hopping off the elevator and joining your friends in the cold weather in which you’re not meant to be wearing the club clothing you chose.

You’d be a liar if you didn’t admit you were nervous to see Mingyu. The change came without warning. After getting used to him checking up on you, learning your coffee order and your class schedule, the anticipation started taking over you. Your eyes look for him around campus, your feet flee out of your classroom knowing he’s going to be there waiting for you.

You try to distract yourself when you get too in your mind about it, about him. It’s a difficult new kind of occurrence you’re not sure how to navigate, so you resort to acting nonchalant about it. That’s why, when he arrives and your friends make eyes at you, you don’t let the subject go further than admitting you invited him. It’s a normal thing for people to invite their friends to hang out!

But no matter how hard you try, your eyes don’t stop wandering to the bar, where Mingyu’s forgotten his quest to get another round of drinks and is talking to the most graceful and gorgeous woman alive.

Of course, Mingyu chose tonight of all nights to look like a prince coming to the rescue. A fitted black shirt that even with the lack of light inside the club managed to highlight his build. You almost fainted when he locked eyes with you across the room and smiled walking all the way to you.

And you’d caught that girl’s eyes glued to him when he first entered the club and greeted you all. As soon as he took one step away from you to walk to the bar, the girl unhooked herself from your group and followed him. 

“I wonder what’s taking so long with the drinks," You’re barely processing your words as they leave your mouth. As if you haven’t been policing the interaction since it started.

“Yeah, did he…” Jennie’s voice trails out before she can finish, following the line of sight you basically burned in the air after so many stares. A small smirk flashes through her before she mumbles, “Oh.”

Now there’s four more pairs of eyes witnessing why you’re making a fool out of yourself.

“Guess he found something else to do.” Still digging your own grave, you can’t stop making stupid comments.

Jennie and Nayeon exchange a look you’re too busy to catch, while you make sure your empty drink is still… empty. Yeah, the very interesting plastic cup in your hand. Definitely the most interesting sight you can be staring at. The cheap cocktail you thought could ease out the anxiety, and now that the little effect it had left your body, all you can do is laugh at yourself.

“Who is she anyway?” You didn’t even catch her name before she jumped at the chance to get Mingyu alone.

“We presented right after her.” Your friend’s voice barely reaches you over the loud music, and on top of that, you don’t really care to know much about her anyway.

“Right…”

It’s not a big deal. What else did you expect? That he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you like the last time you were in a club together? That you’d feel him all around you again as he felt you up with everyone watching? Stupid. You got too comfortable, took him for granted, and he got tired.

“Are you okay?” Nayeon materializes by your side, her hand on your arm steering your eyes back to her.

“He can do whatever he wants! I really don’t care.” Seeing how they can always tell what’s going on with you, of course they read through the lines.

The other two girls you came with look confused before they dare to speak up.

“We tried telling her that he was off limits," One says as the other confesses, “We thought you two were together.”

The girls’ confusion only fuels yours. You really didn’t want to think about it further before, just in case, but it gets you wondering. “W—why would you think that?”

“We just saw you talking after you presented," The blonde one giggles before her friend adds. “You guys looked cute!”

How did they get to that conclusion after the simplest interaction? Were you that obviously nervous? Was the prickling of your skin visible when he stood too close by your side? It’s become the norm for you two to act this way, the invisible skinship boundary long broken.

Deep down, you know there’s no reason to doubt him. You want to be weary of him, find one single flaw to use as an excuse to not like him, but it’s pointless. Mingyu’s never proven to be anything other than supportive. He’s been so patient with you, the deeper feelings for him developed almost on their own. No warning.

Even before breaking up with Jungkook, Mingyu was always present. Since that first day he found you crying, he made sure you had company, made sure you didn’t get too in your head and helped you have a good time. He was there for you before you even realized you needed it.

You took him for granted for too long, and now he has a pretty girl in front of him showing clear signs of attraction, all while you get scared texting him.

You've been so stupid, so blind to what you had in front of you, that now you're losing it, seeing it disappearing from your life with your own eyes.

The charged stares you've been sparing them must've made their way into Mingyu’s sixth sense, because he finally unglues his eyes from the girl and connects them with yours. You know you have no right to be jealous, you two are nothing, just two people with a very complicated relationship.

As if he knew everything going through your mind, Mingyu smirks your way. He fucking smirks. The twist of his lips cause a chain reaction from your hanging jaw down to your insides becoming a roller coaster. You barely hear your friends saying they’re going to the restroom, choosing to stay and challenge Mingyu.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

When he got your text inviting him out, Mingyu was sitting on the couch that had seen it all happen. Jungkook, just beside him, easily took a peek at the notification that lit up his friend's mood.

“Is that her?”

Even if they’ve resolved the bad blood between them, Mingyu couldn’t help to hide the reality of his feelings from Jungkook. “Yeah," He told him after replying to your text.

Mingyu could count with one hand the few times you had dared to text him first these past few weeks. Seeing your name pop up, inviting him out, was thrilling.

It's been no secret that every time Mingyu disappeared to go somewhere unannounced, he was going with you. Jungkook knew it, but it was time he encouraged it.

“Dude, if you like each other, I'm not looking to get in between," Jungkook assured with his eyes back to the tv in front of them.

“Isn’t it weird?” Mingyu tested the waters, checking if he was hallucinating the support.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird," Jungkook shrugged, as if it were that simple.

The situation is weird. And maybe it will always be weird.

Mingyu started making up this fantasy in his head, where, in the future, you’ve finally let him in and he can love you the way you deserve. One where you can look back at the past and laugh with that blinding toothy smile of yours, with all the hurt being just a distant memory. But before you two get to that point, Mingyu will make sure nothing gets in the way of your happiness ever again. And he foolishly hopes you find it with him.

“Is she okay?” Jungkook’s question took Mingyu out of his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking if I should apologize or not.”

“She’s fine,” at that moment, Mingyu realized that maybe his best friend is better at hiding how he feels than he thought, “but an apology wouldn’t hurt.”

Having long conversations was never their strong suit, so the topic ended there, with Jungkook deep in thought and Mingyu getting up to change clothes.

Something drove him to try and be more presentable for you. The last time you two went to a club together, he almost gave up everything right then and there. Now that there are no barriers between the two of you, he won’t hold back at your advances, he won’t freeze if you dance close to him. At least that was his initial goal.

When he arrived at the club, Mingyu had to pause as soon as he saw you across the room. The smile you showed your friend after something she said illuminated the whole room, leaving nothing else in front of his eyes but you.

He greeted all your friends as politely as he could without straying his eyes off you. His hand traveled itself onto the small of your back, keeping you intoxicatingly close to him as best he could. And he didn’t want to leave your side, but maybe breathing an air free of your perfume would help him think clearly, he thought.

Talking to one of the girls you were with, Mingyu partly feels bad for already forgetting her name. The overworked bartender’s taking too long to prepare all the drinks, and he has no other choice than to entertain the girl. 

Answering her questions gets harder and harder with the music blasting, and as she places her hand on his arm to get closer to him, Mingyu can feel the interaction being under someone’s scrutinizing eyes.

Is this all in his head? Are you really standing with your arms crossed and the cutest frown ever on your forehead, almost killing the girl in front of him with your stare? The corner of his mouth lifts autonomously at the thought of you not liking him flirting with another person.

He hasn’t seen this side of you, the jealous and slightly possessive one. And even if you’re nothing more than friends, he loves it. He loves the way you squint when you lock eyes, how you shrug when he doesn’t back down. It’s easy for him to excuse himself and walk towards you again.

At the sight of him, you turn your back on Mingyu, pretending to be dancing alone. So, he has no other choice but to stand behind you and ask in your ear. “Something on your mind?”

Your back tenses against his chest, but you don’t move away, allowing Mingyu to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you close. With your friends suddenly nowhere in sight, he interlocks your fingers while in his hold, helping you relax even if you’re still pretending to be mad.

“You took your time.” The initially suffocating sea of people now feels protective, working like a barrier between your bodies pressed tightly together and the outside world. “Having fun?”

“I am now," Mingyu’s lips graze the side of your face as they lit up in another smirk, growing goosebumps all across your body. “How about you?”

Somehow, being like this doesn’t feel weird. You’ve had Mingyu’s arms wrapped around you so many times now that they easily mold to your figure. There really is only one difference, one that none of you dare speak up but washes over your every interaction.

“I was thinking of going home already.” You look down at your hands tangled in one, fearing that Mingyu can notice at any time how butterflies erupt in your stomach at every word he purrs right in your ear. “Not much to do here.”

“I can take you," His choice of words halts your breath, but you remember.

Untangling Mingyu’s hands from yours, you turn around in his arms to face him, regretting instantly as soon as your eyes connect again.

“You should stay. You looked like you were having fun.” That makes Mingyu chuckle, and an embarrassed warmness bursts inside you at the sound.

“I didn’t think you were the jealous type, princess.” And you didn’t think he was the type to tease you in public, but life takes you to unthinkable roads sometimes.

You scoff as an excuse to take your eyes off him for a second. “Jealous, huh? You’re funny.”

In an intent to get away from his menacingly broad body, your hands take the unconscious decision to push his chest away. But you don’t have the true will to do it, or the strength. He’s too big, too muscly for you to move, and he traps your hands against him, against the sheerest shirt ever that lets you feel every muscle tense under your touch.

“I’d like to think I can make a girl laugh sometimes.” He’s all you can see, covering every spot in your vision with his unerasable teasing smirk.

“Yeah, I saw that.” At the roll of your eyes, there’s no denying that you’re jealous anymore. Do you really care if he knows anyway?

“Oh, you did? Controlling.”

“I’m not controlling! You can do whatever you want, I won’t get in your way.” If he wants to flirt with an emotionally available girl after the infinite amount of time he waited for you, you can’t stop him. You’ll take your feelings to the grave.

Something brews in Mingyu’s mind at your rebuttal. “You won’t?”

“No.” 

For the first time in forever, Mingyu willingly unclasps one of his hands from yours, “And if I do this?”

Mingyu’s fingers creep up your neck and get a hold of your chin, titling it up until you have no other choice but to look him in the eye. He waits for your answer, as if you’d ever say no. As soon as you nod, giving him the okay, another smirk is the only warning you get.

Your lips, meant to be pressed against his forever, part with a sigh as Mingyu's arms wrap around your waist. The world around you, with frantic music and people moving at lightspeed, fades to nothing in his embrace. You move along Mingyu’s soft lips naturally, letting your heart convey your feelings through the kiss.

The memory of that last kiss you dared give him all those days ago can’t compare to this one. There’s no hesitation this time, no guilt restraining you from following your true desire. Nothing outside your bubble really matters as your hands travel up his chest to keep his head in place.

His hair feels soft between your fingers as you push yourselves together closer and closer. You never want anything else in life, just kissing and kissing Mingyu until your lungs give out. It’s unfortunate that you can’t.

“Let me take you home," He gasps with your lips just millimeters away.

Your stomach twists and turns with anticipation. “Okay,” barely a whisper accompanies your nod, fearing the way your voice could come out if you said more.

With his hand in yours, walking the moonlit streets in swift steps and giggles, any worries you had slip away with the wind. The feeling of his lips linger on yours every second it passes, every breath you take, every step forward until you stop at an intersection and Mingyu pulls you into him again.

The walk blends between kisses and hand squeezes to check if you’re in a dream or not. You never want to back away from his hold ever again, but as your building materializes in front of you, you're forced to take your hand off the hem of his shirt.

The elevator’s wall hits your back as soon as the automatic doors let you in, barely giving you time to push your floor’s button before Mingyu’s over you again. His mouth takes yours with a hunger that grows every second you’re not inside your apartment. He’s losing control, succumbing to his desires the more you show your want for him.

By some way, your tangled bodies manage to reach your door, though Mingyu’s hands refusing to stop going over your hips and waist are the challenge to overcome. Your fingers tremble trying to turn the key the right way, your nervous system focusing on the lips kissing every inch of the side of your neck he can reach and his fingers slipping underneath the fabric of your top.

As soon as you close the door behind you, the reality closes in on you. With Mingyu’s arms wrapping around your waist again, the bag you forgot you were holding dropping onto the floor with a thud, and the bright lights in your apartment making everything clear.

Mingyu notices your sudden hesitation and stands before you, worried eyes studying you, looking for any sign to tell him what's happening in your mind.

“I made you get in a fight with your best friend," Your reminder is like a dagger against the silence.

“Is that what's bothering you?” His eyes find yours and understand immediately. “We're fine,” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “he actually encouraged me to come tonight.”

Your eyes widen with hope, leaning into his touch when he doesn't retrieve his hand from the side of your face. “Did you guys—”

“We talked,” Mingyu's voice explains so softly, one wouldn't think he was just making you gasp with that same mouth on yours, “and I told him he should apologize to you.”

Standing in the middle of your entrance hallway, you feel stupid for even bringing that up. He wouldn't be here with you if he felt guilty. He wouldn't be cupping your face in his hands, making you look up to him to find the glimmer in his eyes outshining every light source in the room.

“And you’re sure about this?” What ‘this’ means, you’re not sure either.

“I've never been more sure about anything.” Your breath hitches at his answer, your body noticeably frozen as you look for a non-existent lie in his eyes. “Maybe we should take things slow, let you figure out what you want.”

Before he can back away from your personal space, you react. “No, no, I want this too. I want you.”

Those words coming out of your mouth combined with your hands gripping his shirt to keep him in place quickly make Mingyu regret his previous statement. You're so close, too close to him, saying you want him with your eyes dark and wide.

Mingyu’s hands stay on you, caressing the side of your face as if he was debating whether to give in and kiss you again or do the rational thing. Yours, instead, find the first button at the end of the all too well fitting shirt Mingyu’s wearing, and start unbuttoning it one by one.

“I should take you out on a real date first," Mingyu maintains with a sigh, but not stopping you in your quest.

“I personally think,” at his unmoving body, you take a step closer, with your hands against his chest not daring to sneak under the welcoming fabric, “we’re past that, don’t you think?”

For a second, Mingyu thinks you’ll be able to feel the rapid beating of his heart, stronger with each second your hands lay on his chest. Rationality is losing the fight against his desire.

“Just making sure this isn’t a rebound situation,” Mingyu blurts, even if he doesn’t really care about it for himself. He’d take whatever you give him.

“You aren’t a rebound. This isn’t a revenge plot.” You think for a second before you continue, “You saw me cry way too many times and were there for me at my weakest. You make me feel seen, wanted, and getting to know you has made my life better in ways I could’ve never imagined.”

Your words go through Mingyu's ears and right into his bloodstream, getting warmer and warmer the closer you get. His hands go down your body, encouraging you to move forward until your chests touch.

“I needed you even before I knew what I needed.” You can sense the tears beginning to build up, but you push through. He has to know. “I know what I want now, and it’s you.”

“If this is a dream, I never wanna wake up,” every word Mingyu says comes with a widening smile.

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck with confidence, “I can assure you, it's not.”

As if you've been getting chased by your feelings all this time, putting it into words and letting it all out works, and your brain stops racing. You can finally breathe, think, see.

“So, was that a no about the date?” As always, Mingyu manages to make you chuckle again, and it reverberates all across both your bodies. Every shiver of his, you feel, with the minimal skin to skin contact against his barely uncovered chest and the tiniest top you found to put on.

“You can take me on a date another day. Now, I want something else.” You don't know where all this confidence is coming from, but seeing the shock in Mingyu's eyes, it only grows. “You okay with that?”

“I’ll give you anything you want.”

The space between your faces charges with electricity as you take in his words. An unconscious bite on your lower lip pulls his gaze down, egging him to close the space slowly. You almost don’t register his advance, focusing on the part of his lips that were just on yours minutes ago.

There’s nothing more to be said, no invisible walls to tear down, only you and him and the pull between you, pushing you closer until your breaths mix. After all the obstacles you overcame, and the bumps that lead you to where you are now, there’s no more time to waste.

When your heads meet again, your tingling lips mold against Mingyu’s for the thousandth time, worried about nothing and wanting it all. And he doesn’t hold back either. His hands on your waist venture up inside your top, feeling your back tense at his touch as the fabric crumples up, leaving more of you exposed to him.

You can’t hide your craving for him any longer. You follow his rhythm eagerly, making a mess of his hair between your fingers and pushing him further against you. Every touch of his makes you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to kiss down your jaw and neck. His hands and lips everywhere.

“Might as well just take this off.” Mingyu’s lips print a smirk on the sensitive skin of your neck before pulling back. You get what he means immediately as he tugs on your top, taking  it off you as soon as you put your arms up.

His hands feel your chest up to his liking, getting to know the places that make you sigh into his mouth. Every touch of his fingers makes that spot light up like fire, and every sound you make encourages Mingyu more and more.

Your hands sneak under his opened shirt, feeling the firmness of his chest directly elicits a groan from Mingyu, making you shiver as you slip the fabric down his arms.

Your living room becomes a cliché mess of scattered clothing before you direct the both of you to your bedroom. You barely have time to drink in Mingyu’s body before you’re falling with your back on the mattress, chest to chest again, bare against one another, free of any fabric in between.

Mingyu slots between your legs effortlessly, a low moan coming from him as his hardening length grinds softly on the crevice between your limbs. His golden skin that was the star of your every dream, finally at your reach, soft and warm under the pads of your fingers.

“Gyu—” Words choke up on your throat as you feel his lips wrapping around one of your nipples.

“You're gorgeous,” His lips against your chest makes you halt your movements, mind focused solely on him, “so pretty, only for me.”

It's almost as if he was talking to himself, but you moan at every compliment, arching your back for more of him. And he loves it. Loves the way you react to the stream of thoughts that run around his brain every time he looks at you.

“Fuck!” The curse leaves you both in unison when Mingyu finds his digits against your core.

“I barely even touched you and you're already ready for me?” Mingyu feels your reaction to his words first hand as a wave of arousal hits you.

“Fuck you,” you gasp and he chuckles, kissing down your torso until he’s facing your core.

“I'll take care of you, don't worry, baby.” His breath fans at your wet folds, so close to where you want him but still teasing you with his fingers.

You’re about to fight back when you feel him teasing at your opening, his eyes entranced by how ready you are for him. All the anticipation, the tension between you from the past weeks, culminating at once at this very moment.

The slickness leaking out of you from all the kissing and groping makes it easy for him to set the pace. Mingyu’s fingers stretch your insides with expertise, as if he learned every spot of yours to touch to have you squirming.

The torturously slow thrusts of his fingers drive you crazy, curling and hitting exactly where you need them before he’s pulling back. You don’t hold your sounds back, your every reaction letting Mingyu know how good he makes you feel.

“That’s it, baby,” His low voice sets fire to the blood rushing through your veins, and your walls clamp harder around his fingers.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the sheets below you, and Mingyu’s other hand has to hold your thighs apart so you don’t close them around his head.

“Mingyu—shit!” His lips leave a trail of breathy kisses on your inner thigh, trying to help you relax and take him in, but ultimately turning you on further. “Gyu, wait.”

“I love that you’re calling me that.” He listens and stops thrusting, leaving his fingers to fully fit inside you.

“I need you.” You’re not embarrassed to say what you want. Not with him.

“But you have me?” He tries to tease, but you’re ahead of him already and immediately correct yourself.

“Inside.” His fingers adjust themselves inside you, almost making you forget what you were asking for. “I need you to fuck me.”

Mingyu chuckles at your neediness, but you know he wants it just as bad. His rock hard length draws your attention as he stands up and retrieves his wet digits from you, leaking and ready to split you in half.

There’s a second of hesitation as he looks at you splayed on the bed, as ready for him as he is for you. You recognize the train of thought going through him and stretch your arm to open the drawer below your nightstand, where you keep condoms just in case.

It’s sinful, the sight of Mingyu rolling down the condom as his eyes rake up and down your body. When he kneels on the mattress, fitting like a glove between your legs, it takes another kiss of his on each of your spent legs for you to realize that what’s happening is real.

Caged between both of his arms, his hands holding his weight on both sides of your head, your legs wrap around his waist and push him inside you, at last.

His length fits inside you, opening up your walls to mold to his shape as you both moan.

Your hips collide as he hits your deepest parts. “Being inside you is gonna kill me.” You can feel the twitching of his cock deep inside you. He paused to let you get used to his size, but the last thing you want to do is wait.

“I’m gonna kill you if you don’t move.”

You’ve learned teasing him works wonders, and as soon as those words leave your lips, he’s complying with what you ask of him. “Whatever my princess wants.”

Whatever thoughts you had, they fade at the drag of his length deliciously making you his with each thrust. Deep and slow, he lets you feel everything he has to give before almost pulling out.

The skin of his back becomes the victim of your scratches, your nails digging into his tense muscles with every grind of his hips. But no matter what you do, how you touch him, how loudly you moan, his pace remains at the same torturing speed.

“Relax, baby.” A hand caresses the side of your face, and you realize you’d shut your eyes closed at the feeling of him pushing inside you.

Mingyu lowers his head, flushing your chests together again as he kisses you softly, matching the pace of his thrusts with his tongue tangling with yours. He drinks every sound you make, as they are only for him, and lowers his hand down your torso until it meets your connected cores.

Your sensitive clit feels like fire under the touch of his fingers, circling around it to help you ease up the tension. “That’s it, baby, taking me so well.”

Everywhere he reaches becomes your new favorite place for him to touch. From your lips, down to your cunt, and all the way inside you, everywhere now has his name written. You’re his.

The pulsing of your walls around him doesn’t cease, becoming quicker and harder the more he continues with the slow pace. Your insides wait for every intoxicating thrust as if starved of him, craving everything he gives you and more.

His lips move on yours, parted and unable to work, mumbling praise you don’t get to hear as every one of your senses focuses on the fire inside you threatening to burst. Mingyu’s hips falter, having trouble thrusting inside you as you tighten impossibly tighter around him.

Your vision turns white as your orgasm explodes without so much as a warning. Your legs tremble around Mingyu’s pistoning hips, thrusting endlessly searching for his release.

Mingyu’s broad body falls limp on you as his length twitches, coming inside the condom with a groan while your walls hug him tight.

You lay under him happily, a smile on your face as you stare at the ceiling. He feels warm all around you, a feeling you could get used to. Mingyu can’t resist it and kisses you again. He’ll take every opportunity he can get to feel your lips on his.

“What's on your mind?” He asks, eyes locking in to yours as he slips out from you before attacking your lips again.

You both smile in the kiss before he stands up to discard the used condom and put his boxers back on. “Just thinking where you can take me on our date.”

He turns around with a glowing smile. “You’re thinking about that already?”

The way he lays down on your bed with you, naturally wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to him, feels like a dream come true.

“Of course, baby, I always think ahead.” You note the way he blushes when you use that nickname on him and snuggle against him.

Listening to Mingyu’s steady breathing and heartbeat under your ear, drifting to sleep has never been easier. 

The smell of freshly grounded coffee fills the air around the café Mingyu picked. A cozy new place, lighted with yellowy light bulbs and with a space designated to read books you can borrow from the shelves covering the walls. It opened a few weeks ago in his neighborhood and he’s been insisting you try it out together since.

You’ve been on countless dates with him already, but you still feel nervous having him sit by your side in the booth. Still get embarrassed when he asks for a big smoothie with two straws for you both.

You don’t see a future where you don’t get nervous around him, but he’s always there. A future without him wouldn’t be life at all. And the best thing is, Mingyu feels the same way.

“Are you sure they’re coming?” You ask as your eyes drift to the glass door for the tenth time in the past five minutes.

“I promise they are!” Minguy takes your jaw in his fingers to make you look at him. “Remember to not say anything about the apartment. He'll as her when he's ready”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, feigning cluelessness, and Mingyu chuckles before giving you a peck.

Detaching your lips is always the hardest chore. But after a few awkward instances where you let your kisses deepen in public, you both decided to control yourselves, even in a secluded booth like the one you’re currently in.

Mingyu’s eyes light up watching the street from the window you’re sitting against, and you turn around to see the people you’ve been waiting for. 

Jungkook and Cathlyn walk inside the store holding hands and with matching smiles on their faces as they greet you. How Mingyu convinced them to go out on a double date with you still astonishes you, but you’re glad everything that happened could finally be put behind you.

It was hard at first, even after Jungkook apologized to you, you didn’t dare go inside their apartment for months until Mingyu moved in with you a few weeks ago.

As soon as they sit in front of you, the plan you’ve been scheming starts. Your eyes lock with Mingyu’s and he instantly realizes what you're about to do, but not even his hand squeezing your thigh under the table can stop you. “So, Jungkook, what are you going to do now that you live in the apartment alone?”

note: it's finally here!!!

thank you all for being so excited this past month and for reading this monster of a fic i somehow came up with.

if you reached the end, just know that i love you, and i'd love to hear your thoughts <3

[straylightdream]

say yes?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: rich!choi seungcheol x f.reader, the reader also used to be in love with wonwoo

When it comes to your friend group it’s clear you’re in an extremely different tax bracket. Things get complicated when you drunkenly marry Seungcheol after he tells you he wants to take care of you.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, smut, romance, angst

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol au, married in vegas au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13.5k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drinking, blacking out, cussing, lots of emotions, and being confused about feelings.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: soft dom choel, multiple sex scenes, consensual drunk sex, unprotected sex, sex in the shower, fooling around in the bath, clit play, breast/nipple play, fingering, multiple positions, creampie, big dick seungcheol, dirty talk, nicknames: pinky, baby, sweetheart (hers) cheol (his)

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+

𝐚𝐧: I couldn’t have written this story without @aeristudios. They were literally here for every step of this story. Thank you @orbitondgtl & @hanniehaeo for beta reading this one.

🎧: delicate - taylor swift | snooze - sza | sacrifice- mariah the scientist | just for me - pinkpantheress

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

There are times when you realize that you and your friend group are in different tax brackets. All of the boys in your friend group have different types of jobs. Soonyoung owns a dance studio, Joshua is a producer, Jeonghan and Mingyu work at Seungcheol‘s company, which he started up when he was twenty. Wonwoo works a tech job with Minghao. Then there is you, working as a freelance writer. A struggling freelance writer at that.

When the money is good for you, things are great, but recently, you can't find work to save your life, and you’ve had to dip into your savings to get by. It’s safe to say that recently things have been quite tough for you.

Sitting in Seungcheol's expensive penthouse with a beautiful view of the city, you’re next to Wonwoo, listening to the rest of the boys go on about what the plan should be for Seungcheol's upcoming birthday. He’s turning thirty, and the boys have been talking about the possibility of a trip to celebrate.

“I say we just commit to finally doing a group Vegas trip.” Jeonghan chimed in. He and Soonyoung have been trying to plan a Vegas trip for years at this point.

“Really, Vegas?” Minghao seems unamused by this idea.

“That could be fun. Could you guys all swing, missing some work for this?” Seungcheol asked.

“I mean, technically, you're mine and Jeonghan's boss.” Mingyu laughs.

All the boys agree to go other than Wonwoo, who is traveling for a work trip that week. When they all turn your attention to you, you wish you could disappear. There is absolutely no way you can afford a trip right now. It’s been over a month since you had a job. You shouldn’t be doing anything lavish.

“I probably shouldn’t travel. I’m trying to lock down a few jobs.”

Seungcheol's eyes lock on yours, and he stares at you intently. He’s always had this ability to easily read you. Setting his beer on the counter, he reaches for his phone in his pocket. You watch as he starts typing away on his keyboard.

Your phone buzzes, and you instantly know he’s texting you.

From cheol 🍒: just go on the trip.

From pinky: I wish I could, but money is tight with the lack of jobs I’m getting.

From cheol 🍒: literally just agree to going and I’ll pay for you. You won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll give you a credit card and you can swipe away and pretend the money is coming from a magical account.

From pinky: that’s insane.

He sets his phone down and gives you a smile across the room. “Okay, let’s figure out who is rooming with who. Jeonghan and Shua together. Hao and Mingyu, and then Soonyoung and Pinky.”

“I thought Pinky didn’t agree.” Joshua chimes in. It used to embarrass you, that your nickname refers to the time the wind blew your skirt up and flashed all the boys your pink panties. It’s been over ten years now, and the nickname doesn’t faze you anymore.

“Pinky is going. Right?” He gives you a look, letting you know you can’t say no.

“I’ll go—“ You know this is an absolutely insane idea.

“Good luck. Let me know how this goes.” Wonwoo laughed beside you.

-

Arriving in Vegas feels like an absolute whirlwind. You barely have time to settle in before the boys are dragging you around.

Jeonghan had the absolutely insane idea that the whole group had to be in a bar when it was officially Seungcheol’s birthday . That would be great if you haven’t been drinking for literally hours.

Your hand was gripping Soonyoung’s as he led you towards the bar. He’s talking to the bartender as you attempt to fix this dress that is way too short for your liking.

Looking over where your friend group is, you see Seungcheol watching you. The moment Soonyoung has drinks, he leads you back to the bar, holding his own drink and one for the birthday boy.

As soon as you're close to the group, Jeonghan grabs your arm, moving you closer to the birthday boy. Holding out Seungcheol’s jack and coke he gives you a smile, pressing his lips to your forehead for a quick kiss. This isn't something out of the ordinary, as the entire friend group tends to lack personal boundaries.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” Seungcheol’s hand lingers on your lower back. Standing next to you, he leans down and says, “You look really pretty.” Being – for the most part – one of the only girls in this friend group, it’s not unusual for the boys to compliment you. The way he says it feels different though.

“You look pretty good yourself, birthday boy.” He gives you a crooked smile.

“Let me buy your next drink.”

“I didn’t buy my last one, Soonyoung did.”

“Just let me buy it.”

“But it’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be spending money on drinks.“

“It may be my birthday, but I want to take care of you.” You can hear Joshua and Jeonghan arguing about something in the distance, but all you can fully focus on is the way Seungcheol is staring at you.

“Cheol—“

“Pinky?”

“You don’t need to take care of me. I should be buying you drinks.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his wallet. Without another thought, he pulls out a black metal card and hands it to you. The cold metal hits your hand before you can even argue with him, a clear indication of how wealthy Seungcheol actually is.

“Why are you giving me your card?”

“Because, the whole time we’re here in Vegas, I want you to just use it. Like I said before, pretend it’s coming out of your bank account if it makes you feel better.”

Maybe he’s right, clearly he does have too much money. Why on earth would he freely hand you his black card and just tell you to spend his money?

“Here, time for shots.” Jeonghan comes over holding a tray of what looks like tequila shots.

“Not now Hannie.” You try to wave him off. Before you can say anything else, he holds a tequila shot to your lips.

“Be a good girl and take the shot for Cheol’s birthday.”

You glance over at Seungcheol, who grabs a shot and holds it up to his own lips.

The golden liquid burns as it slides down your throat. You’ve been here an hour, and this is the third shot Jeonghan has passed out. It’s not that you're a light weight, but the amount of alcohol you’re being given will definitely have your judgement feeling cloudy before you know it.

“Cheol, chug your drink and then get on the dance floor with me and Pinky.” Soonyoung pulls you away from Seungcheol before you can even argue with him. You shoved his credit card into your bra to keep it safe.

You aren’t even able to object as he drags you towards the crowded dance floor. Looking back, you find Minghao following behind.

The music is loud, and it’s so crowded you’re pressed against Soonyoung. He turns you around so your back is plastered to his front. It isn’t unusual for you to end up on the dance floor with these two.

Soonyoung rolls his hips with yours to the beat of the music. Looking over, you watch as a random pretty girl has found her way into Minghao’s arms.

You feel Soonyoung release you, and before you can turn around to question him, another body is pressed up to you. A large hand rests on your stomach, rolling your body back against him. There is no way Soonyoung would let a random man dance with you, this has to be one of the boys.

“Do you mind if I take Soonyoung‘s spot?” Seungcheol's husky voice rings in your ear. This is just the man you preferred to be dancing with.

“No.” You say loud enough for him to hear over the loud music.

One hand stays resting on your stomach while the other rests on your hip. His thumb drags over the side of your thong, pressing against the tight fabric of your dress.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol in your system or the feeling of Seungcheol's body against yours that makes your head spin.

“Cheol—“ you practically moan, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

“I can see why Soonyoung likes dancing with you.”

Pulling away from him, you turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck. His body is pressed up against yours. You’re straddling his thigh as you move to the beat of the music.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He leans down so his nose is brushing yours. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes—“ the moment the word leaves your mouth, his lips crash into yours. One hand grips your hip while the other rests on your ass, pulling you closer to him. It’s been so long since you had properly kissed anyone. The feeling of his pouty lips against yours is enough to leave you feeling drunk on lust.

Pulling away, he whispered against your lips, “I have wanted you for so long.” Without another word, you lean in, crashing your lips to his. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him close to you. His strong thigh is between your legs as you grind against him. Your lips fight for dominance, everything around you fading away.

He pulls back and gives you a grin. “I shouldn’t kiss you like this in public.“

“Why is that?”

“Because I can’t keep my hands to myself when we kiss like that.”

Mingyu and Soonyoung walk towards you, pulling you away from your moment. Soonyoung grabs your hand, pulling you away from Seungcheol. “Come on, Hannie got more shots.”

The more shots they’re able to pour in your mouth, the hazier things get. The liquid courage has you thinking with a one track mind. All you can think about is an equally drunk Seungcheol.

Leaning against the wall in the club, Seungcheol has you caged in with his arms on either side of your head.

He’s leaving a sea of kisses across your neck up to your jaw. “We should get married.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m just crazy about you.” He peppers your jaw with kisses.

“We can’t get married.”

“Lovebirds, you’re being a little too intense.” Jeonghan teased, pulling Seungcheol away from you.

“You’re just jealous, Hannie.” Seungcheol leans in to kiss you again.

“Come on, loverboy.” He grabs Seungcheol, pulling him away from you.

Leaning against the way you watch as Mingyu pours straight from the bottle into the birthday boy's mouth.

Joshua walks over to you and reaches up, wiping away your smeared lipgloss. “Are you good?” You’ve always been close with him. He’s always one of the first to check on you.

“Yeah. I think I’m gonna leave with Cheol.” There is no way you can just leave this club, go back to your hotel room with Soonyoung, and pretend this never happened.

“Can’t say I’m shocked. Just make sure you use a condom.”

“Shua—” You whine.

“I’m not judging you, just be safe.” He kisses the top of your head before sending Seungcheol back towards you. “I’m serious, use a condom.” He pats Seungcheol on the back.

Pushing yourself off the wall, you walk up to Seungcheol. “Can we please get out of here?” This club feels too crowded, and you just want to be alone with the man you can’t stop kissing.

Hand in hand, he leads you out of the club. He pushes you up against the wall, hidden away from prying eyes. His lips are all over your neck, and his hand is under your tight dress, toying with your thong. It’s taking everything in him to not slide his finger right into your tight core, right out there in the open.

“I want you so bad—” You moan, closing your eyes.

“I will give you anything you could possibly want.”

The last thing you remember is Seungcheol pulling you away from the wall.

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Bright morning light peaking through the curtains wakes you up. You’re an absolute idiot for not closing the curtains fully, even in your drunken state.

You quite possibly woke up with one of the worst hangovers of your life. The pounding in your head mixed with the feeling of nausea is unbearable. If you manage to survive getting out of bed, you quite possibly might kill Jeonghan for pouring too many shots of tequila down your throat.

Closing your eyes tighter, you move further into the bed. Something blocks you when you've barely nestled under the blankets. It bounces back when you push it aside, and when you finally turn around, you see Seungcheol. A lot of him. Your heart practically jumps out of your chest at the sight of him barely covered by a thin white sheet. That same sheet is doing nothing to hide his morning wood.

You remember kissing Seungcheol at the club while Jeonghan egged you on, and your heated makeout session as he pulled you away from the club. You even remember him putting his hand up your dress. You don’t remember anything that happened in this room, or what led you both to be naked. The dark marks across his neck are a clear indicator more than just innocent sleeping took place. You have reason to believe those marks were left by you.

You pull away from him as quietly as you can. Luckily, you’re in his room, so you could probably sneak out without him noticing. The issue is what happens when you get to your room you share with Soonyoung. You can barely slip away underneath the blankets before he pulls you close.

“Stop trying to run away. Just cuddle with me.” He mumbles, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Seungcheol—”

“Baby, just stay in bed. My head hurts, and cuddling with you will fix it.”

“Baby?” You relax, letting him pull you closer to him. Lying on your side, he pulls your leg up so it’s resting on his stomach. He hasn’t bothered responding to your confusion about your new nickname.

“You’ve never called me baby before.”

“Well, you weren’t my wife before.” You must be hearing things. There is no way he just called you his wife. It feels as if an ice cold bucket of water was poured on you.

“Wife?”

“We got married?”

He knits his brows together. “Pinky, remember I told you I wanna take care of you?"

“I didn’t think you were serious about actually putting a ring on my finger.”

“Speaking of rings. I wanna get you a proper nice ring after I have some caffeine and food, and then possibly give you a reminder about our time in this bed.” He leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Seungcheol—“

“Pinky, before you freak out, just think about the pros of us being married. I can give you a list if you want.” He’s absolutely insane. He can’t actually think randomly getting married in Vegas is a good idea. He has more money in his bank account than you’ll probably ever be worth.

“Why would you actually want to marry me?” You pull away from him.

“I have liked you since college. Long before I saw your cute pink panties. I have more money than I could ever need. I want to take care of you. You work so hard, and I don’t want you to stress about money. I think we’re a good pair. You can’t tell me you don’t have feelings for me.” Seungcheol is laying all his cards out on the table. He’s wanted you for as long as he can remember. This is one shot at trying to fully be with you. Who cares if you skipped a couple major steps and just married you.

“Cheol—“

“Do you not like me?” His face falls a little.

“I obviously like you. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have made out with you. It’s just… people are going to assume I’m a gold digger, or you’re my sugar daddy.”

“I can be your sugar daddy if you want me to be.”

“I’m being serious. This whole thing is crazy.”

He sits up. Reaching over, he rested his hand on your cheek. “It might be crazy, but I like you, and I know we could fall in love so easily if you gave us a real shot. We can pretend we’re just dating if you want. But I would prefer we go all in.”

Well, he’s clearly insane, and you might be too because suddenly his idea isn’t sounding so crazy. ”What does all in include?”

He gives you a gummy smile, “you move in with me, and we live as husband and wife. That means we can kiss and do all the things married people do.”

“Cheol, this is crazy.”

“I know, but let’s just see where this goes.”

“Okay—“

“How about we shower and then go get breakfast, and then I’ll get you a nice ring.” He pulls away the covers, revealing his very naked body. He stands up completely unfazed by the fact that he’s naked.

“Shower?”

“Yeah, I need to shower, and you probably want to shower, and I think we should save water and do it together.”

He walks off to the huge en-suite bathroom he has. You never got to fully look around this suite he booked while you were sober. Before going out, he met everyone at Jeonghan and Joshua’s room. This hotel is definitely too expensive for you. But for the boys, this is nothing.

Right now is the time to be brave. Seungcheol told you he wants to stay married and act like a married couple. If he’s your husband, you should have absolutely no issue joining him in the shower.

Walking into the large white and marble bathroom, you’re greeted by the sight of Seungcheol standing behind the glass. Your eyes are drawn to his very large length, that is basically hard.

“Is my wife going to join me?” He turns to his back and is facing you. Your eyes go to his olive tree tattoo. You remember him getting it Anytime you’ve gone to the pool or seen him shirtless you’ve always wanted to trace it.

Walking towards the shower you slide open the door and step inside. This shower is so big it could probably fit five people. The shower head is above you. Seungcheol steps aside, he’s still under the water but it gives you room.

“Can I kiss you again?” He tilts your head up so you’re looking at him.

“Yes.”

The first time his lips touch yours it’s slow, as if he's testing the waters. Your hand rests on his chest. His hand rests on the back of your head, holding you close to him. His lips move against yours as if he needs you to breathe.

“I couldn’t believe it when you actually agreed to marry me.” He says with his lips against yours. “I would have married you years ago if you would have said yes.” He moves you backwards and your back hits the cold tile behind you.

“You didn’t think about maybe just asking me out on a date?” You say between feather light kisses against his lips.

“I have wanted to ask you out since college. There were a few things that complicated it. One being I was worried about our friend group, another one being that I thought Wonwoo liked you.”

He kind of hit the nail on the head with Wonwoo being brought up. Wonwoo didn't necessarily like you, but you had a good five years when you thought you were in love with him. Turns out time heals a broken heart and you let go of your feelings for him long ago. Wonwoo and you are still very close, you just don’t pine after him like you used to.

“Cheol—“

“You don't have to explain anything to me. Just promise me you’ll give us a shot.”

“I’ll give us a shot, but you don’t want you to worry about Wonwoo.”

“I’m not worried about Wonwoo now. I talked to him before we left and he told me not to worry about him.” Why on earth would he ask Wonwoo about what’s going on?

“Why did you talk to him?”

“My only birthday wish was, I was finally going to ask you to be mine. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on his toes.” He caged you against the shower wall. “This is the perfect way to spend the morning on my birthday.”

Wrapping your around his neck, you pull him closer to you. “Are you really serious about wanting to be married?”

“One hundred percent. Let me take care of you, baby.”

“I could get used to you calling me that.”

He crashed his lips into yours for a searing kiss. No man has ever kissed you quite like he has. The way his lips move against yours it’s almost as if he’s kissing you like he needs you to breathe.

Reaching down you take his already hardened length in your hand. You can’t lie, you're a little ache between your legs from your wedding night that you don’t fully remember. The size of him alone in your hand, you know it’s gonna take a little while for your body to adjust to him.

His nose rests against yours. A low moan passes his lips as you stroke his velvety length.

“How do you like this?”

“Focus on the head.” He groans.

His hand dips down and he starts playing with your clit, before dipping two fingers into your wet core. “Fuck—“ He moans.

“Cheol—“

“I need to get a condom.” He pulls his hands away from you.

Reaching for his hand you stop him from leaving the shower. The idea of feeling him raw right now turns you on even more..

“I’m on birth control.”

He looks at you with a surprised look playing across his face. “Are you sure?”

“I’m clean. It’s been a year since I’ve had sex with anyone other than my own hand or my vibrator.” That’s definitely embarrassing to admit, but if anyone should know this information it should be your husband.

“I’m clean too. I haven’t had sex in like three months.”

“If you want we can go bare.”

“Where do you want me to finish?”

You let out a little chuckle at this question. “Inside?”

“Okay.” He steps towards you again. “Can you turn around baby?”

Your hands are placed on the cold tile, you arched your back. Looking over your shoulder you watch as he pumps his large length. “We’ll go slow. You said our first time I’m in your words, fucking massive.”

“I trust you to take care of me.”

True to his word he ever so slowly pushed into you. As he bottomed out he gave you time to adjust. His hand gently rubbed your back helping you to relax. The stretching feeling slowly starts to dissipate into a feeling of pleasure.

“You can move. Can you play with my clit while you do?”

“Of course.”

His thrusts are slow but deep. He’s hitting places inside of you, you aren’t quite sure another man has ever reached. Reaching around his fingers rub your clit. Pushing your hips back, you meet his thrust. One of his hands grips your hip tightly,leaving finger print shaped bruises in his wake. With each drag of his cock he seems to brush a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars.

“Cheol—“ His name comes out as a broken moan.

“Such a good girl.” You could get used to him speaking to you like that. You’ve never been one for dirty talk or pet names, but with him you can’t seem to get enough of it.

“So big.”

“You’re so tight, it’s like you were made for me.”

Pushing your hips back harder, you’re chasing your release that is getting closer and closer. Squeezing your eyes closed you concentrate on the filling of his hands on your clit.

The dam breaks as a white hot wave hits you. A slur of curse words and his name pour from your lips. Your walls contract around his massive length. Your arms start to give out as you start to fall forward. Without even thinking he grabs your hips keeping you from falling.

“Baby, I’m close.” His thrusts are sloppy as he holds you up. He slams your butt against his pelvis as he fills you to the brim, painting your walls with his milky release.

“Can you put your hands back on the wall?”

Even in your dazed state you listen to his request. Your hands are on the cold title wall holding yourself up.

Slowly he pulls out of you, watching as his cum slowly leaks out. He never necessarily had a creampie kink, but seeing you like this might have changed something inside of him. He’s not sure if he could ever wear a condom with you again, after seeing you like this.

“Fuck that was good.” You mumble resting your cheek against the shower wall.

“I need to clean you up.” He reaches for an unused washcloth hanging on the wall.

After an intense round of shower sex, Seungcheol takes his time washing your body, and washing your hair. Once the water is off he even dries you off before wrapping you in an expensive white fluffy robe.

Seungcheol ordered room service. They quickly brought up coffee and pastries.

Thank god you’re sitting in bed wrapped up in a robe and not still naked. The door opens and Jeonghan barges in. Seungcheol doesn’t seem fazed that he’s practically naked wearing only a towel resting low on his hips.

“Soonyoung said you didn’t come back to the room. I had a feeling this is where I would find you.” The grin Jeonghan is wearing is enough of a sign that he’s enjoying this.

“Jeonghan, why are you here?” Seungcheol turns around and starts going through his suitcase.

“I’m making sure you’re both alive and well. Soonyoung was a little concerned about where his roommate ended up sleeping.”

“Well, you found us and were alive. You and the boys do whatever you want today. I’m going to spend the day with Pinky and go shopping.”

“Dude it’s your birthday, don’t you want to have a birthday dinner?”

He looks over at you. He’s trying to figure out if you want to go to dinner with all the boys. “Sure. Can you book us a reservation in the private room at the sushi place downstairs?”

“Sure.” Jeonghan looks over at you giving you a knowing glance.

“Have fun, lovebirds,” he practically sings walking out.

After finally getting rid of Jeonghan, Seungcheol takes you to your room to get ready. Luckily Soonyoung is nowhere to be seen. You weren’t ready to face any of the other boys quite yet. Dressed in a sundress and a pair of sandals he takes you down to the lobby where he has a car waiting for you.

He’s made the decision to go shopping for rings before eating lunch. Arriving at the Bellagio hotel, he takes you by the hand leading you straight to Tiffany and Co. You quite literally can’t afford anywhere like this before in your life.

The moment you enter the store a sales associate walks up and asks if you need any help.

“We’re here for an engagement ring, and wedding bands for each of us.”

You can’t even say anything. You're just shocked this is even real. Everything in this room is absolutely out of your budget.

You’re immediately led off to a private room. Silently you sit there next to Seungcheol as a bunch of rings are placed in front of you.

“Any specific shape in mind?” The sales lady asked.

“No.” When you dreamed about getting married as a teen you never got to the point of imagining a wedding ring.

“Baby, don’t worry about the price. Just pick what you think is perfect for you.” Seungcheol whispers in your ear.

“Are you getting married soon?” She asked.

“We’re actually already married but I want her to have a proper engagement and wedding ring.”

The amount of sparkling diamonds on the tray in front of you, is worth probably more than you will ever make in your lifetime. Your eyes are instantly drawn to a beautiful teardrop shaped diamond. It’s on the smaller side which is perfect for you.

Picking it up, you slide it on your finger. Instantly you know, this is the ring. Glancing over at Seungcheol you find him intently watching you. “Do you think that’s the one, baby?” Him calling you baby still makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

“If it’s not too much, yes.”

“We’ll take that one, and can we see the wedding bands for her and myself.”

Within moments all the engagement rings are gone and instantly a sea of wedding bands are in front of both of you. Your eyes flash over to a v shaped diamond encrusted ring that would match your tear dropped shaped ring perfectly. Without even thinking you point, the one that caught your eye.

Seungcheol picks it up and slides it onto your finger. He grabs the engagement rings and puts them on with it. Instantly something tells you that this is your ring.

“I think I just watched you light up at the sight of these.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“We’ll take these two.” He says before you can even protest.

“Seungcheol, how much are those?

“I told you it doesn’t matter. You’re my wife and I want to spoil you.”

Seungcheol picks a beautiful platinum wedding band with diamonds scattered around it. When it’s time to check out, you try your hardest not to see the total, but unfortunately you see the total is close to thirty thousand and you instantly feel sick. The idea of him dropping that much money instantly is insane.

Luckily your wedding ring set you picked is perfectly your size. Seungcheol wastes no time putting it on your finger.

After ring shopping he takes you out to brunch at a beautiful restaurant. He’s talking to you all about a business trip coming up and asking if you would be interested in traveling with him for now on. How are you supposed to say no to something like this?

“Cheol, I was thinking maybe we should wait until we tell the boys all about our marriage? and hold off on wearing our rings. I was thinking maybe telling them and Wonwoo all together.” You don’t want one of the boys telling Wonwoo. This is definitely something you should tell him.

“If that’s what you want to do. Would you like me to keep your rings safe until then?”

“Yes please. Maybe tonight I should sleep in my room with Soonyoung so the boys don’t push too much.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I’m saying this now, on the flight home you’re riding next to me. Mingyu can sit with Soonyoung.”

“Okay.”

Seungcheol's entire birthday was spent with you. After lunch you went shopping, where he not only bought himself some clothes, but he also had no issues pulling out his fancy black card to buy you a dress he thought would look beautiful on you.

Heading back to your own hotel room you find Soonyoung getting ready.

“Well, well, well. Look at who finally decided to show up.” He teases you, grabbing his belt off the bed.

“Sorry I was a little preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied by Cheol’s dick?”

Soonyoung has never been one to sugar coat things with you.

“I’m not kissing and telling.”

“I’ve heard he’s pretty big. I’m shocked you’re still walking.”

“Soonyoung, shut up.” You grab a decorative pillow and throw it at him. He quickly dodges it and gives you a huge smile.

“Damn you’re feisty. I thought getting some good dick would make you chill out.”

Oh if only he knew what getting ‘good dick’ had led to.

“I’m going to change my shoes and then we should head downstairs.”

Arriving at the restaurant you show up just as Seungcheol arrives with Jeonghan and Joshua. Minghao and Mingyu arrive shortly after. This sushi restaurant is absolutely gorgeous.

The host leads you back to a private room where you have a private chef. There aren’t any food menus passed around, only a cocktail menu. The chef starts making omakase style sushi for the group.

This is the nicest sushi dinner you have ever had. The boys are having a great time, each with a ton of delicious sushi and drinking. Jeonghan ran off to the bar and paid for a huge bottle of sake. He comes back into the room and starts pouring liquor straight into everyone's mouth.

You’re sitting across from Seungcheol watching him have a great time. Seeing him happy instantly makes you happy.

The moment the check comes, Seungcheol pulls out his black card before anyone could argue. Before the waiter could get out of the room Jeonghan rushes up and swaps the cards.

Jeonghan hands the card back to Seungcheol. “You pay me too much to do my job. This is the least I could do for my best friend.”

The two of them have been best friends since freshman year of college when they were roommates. Jeonghan was there every step of the way of Seungcheol creating his company. It was inevitable that Jeonghan would work for him and make bank alongside him.

The night comes to a close and the group is heading off to the elevators. You and Seungcheol are walking in the back of the pack. He keeps intentionally bumping you, and giving you knowing looks.

He gives you a quick kiss before anyone can see. The way he’s looking at you, gives you butterflies.

Parting ways everyone to head off to their own room, you head off with Soonyoung. You’re getting ready to shower before you get a text.

from cheol 🍒: Goodnight baby

from wifey 💕: Goodnight my husband 💗

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The last four days after returning home have been an absolute whirlwind. Seungcheol immediately hired people to pack up your things and move you into your now shared penthouse.

As soon as you returned home you had to take a trip to Seungcheol’s bank, so you could be added onto all his accounts. Reluctantly you took all the fancy debit and credit cards he gave you.

This whole situation doesn’t feel real. According to Seungcheol, the black card that is now in your name can be used for anything you want.

Today is the first day things feel slightly normal. You’ve been working all day on a freelance assignment you were able to get. Seungcheol has been at the office all afternoon. You don’t expect him home until just before the boys are coming over for game night. It’s going to take some getting used to living in this huge penthouse.

The door opens and Seungcheol walks in carrying too many designer shopping bags. You instantly know he went on a shopping spree for you.

“Cheol, what did you get?” You close your laptop and look at your husband.

“I got you some new clothes, a purse that I saw because it made me think of you. Some things that are more selfishly for me.”

“What did you get for yourself?” He sets one of the bags on the counter and pulls out some very expensive looking lingerie. You can’t help but smile. “So you saw that and thought of me?”

“Yes. There is also a pretty dress I got for you to wear tonight.”

Something deep down inside of you told you, telling Wonwoo wasn’t going to be easy. Having this game night with the intention of telling the boys about your marriage suddenly feels tacky and wrong.

-

Dressed in a beautiful flowy yellow dress Seungcheol bought you as a gift. You should feel beautiful and happy, but you aren’t. You’re anxious and feel nauseous. It feels weird that Seungcheol had no issue dropping all this money on a designer dress and shoes for you to wear tonight.

Taking a deep breath you walk out of the bathroom and find Seungcheol standing in front of the mirror fixing up his hair. He looks so handsome.

“You look gorgeous.” He says the moment his eyes lock on you through the mirror.

“Thank you for the dress.”

Turning around he steps towards you. His dark eyes slowly travel up and down your body. He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. “We need to go shopping and get you more dresses like this. You look absolutely breathtaking.”

“You’re just saying that because it makes my boobs look big.” The moment you put this dress on you saw how crazy it made your chest look.

“That's just a bonus, but you look absolutely beautiful.”

He reaches out holding your hand. “If you want to keep our marriage on the down low we can.”

This isn’t a secret you can keep to yourself. You don’t want to lie to your friends about what is going on between you and Seungcheol. If you agreed to stay married that definitely means everyone should know you’re married.

“You and I both know you are going to call me your wife and confuse people sooner rather than later.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“You rarely call me Pinky anymore. You seem to be quite fond of baby and your wife.”

The boys start showing up one by one. Wonwoo comes over pretty early on. You’re chatting in the kitchen together. He’s drinking a beer, while you’re sipping on a glass of wine. Wonwoo is telling you about his work trip. He asked about the Vegas trip. You dance around telling him about what has unfolded between you and Seungcheol.

“How drunk did everyone get it?”

“I don’t even remember everything from Cheol‘s party at the club.”

You don’t think you have ever gotten that drunk in your life. Even at crazy college parties, you never got nearly that drunk.

“Damn. I missed black out drunk Pinky?” Wonwoo lets out a laugh.

“I would prefer I never black out again.”

“I don’t blame you. I wish I could have gone. You all seemed like you had an amazing trip.”

“Wonwoo and Pinky get in here.” Soonyoung yells from the living room.

Game night is already as chaotic as it tends to be. It’s not a game night if Jeonghan isn’t trying to find a way to cheat. Him and Joshua are being absolute menaces like they normally are together. You’re sitting on the couch next to Seungcheol.

Jeonghan is attempting to cheat to win.

“Pinky, you’re just jealous you’re losing like always.”

You know Jeonghan is joking, he’s always loved to tease you. The problem is you can feel how annoyed Seungcheol is.

“Hey, don’t speak to my wife that way.” The moment the word wife leaves his mouth it feels as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

“Whoa wait, what?” Jeonghan looks extremely confused, along with the rest of the room.

Suddenly the room goes dead silent for what feels like a lifetime. Seungcheol stares at you with wide eyes. Looking past your husband you see Wonwoo standing next to Joshua. The look of confusion on his face morphs into hurt.

“You guys actually got married?”’Jeonghan asked the question clearly the whole room wanted to ask.

“Yeah we got married. We’re fully together now.” Seungcheol says. You’re left sitting there silently in shock.

“We thought you two just got drunk and fucked.” Soonyoung chimes in.

Wonwoo looks at Soonyoung and then walks off towards the kitchen. This is not how you wanted him to find out. Hell this isn’t how you wanted any of them to find out.

“We got married.” Seungcheol squeezes your hand.

“Did you move in here?” Joshua asked.

“Yeah, she moved in.”

“What about your lease?” Joshua is asking the same questions you asked.

“It’s over in four months and Seungcheol is helping me with it.”

Jeonghan barks out a laugh. “You two are actually insane, but for some reason I think this is a good idea.”

Stepping away from Seungcheol, he releases your hand. Walking away from everyone, you head off to the kitchen where you find Wonwoo leaning against the counter.

“Wonwoo—“

“What were you thinking? Pinky you’re smarter than this.”

“We were drunk and it just happened.”

Taking his glasses off he rubs his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “Are you guys going to get this annulled?" He puts his glasses back on.

“No, we're going to stay married.”

The look on his face isn’t like anything you’ve ever seen before. He’s never looked this sad or disappointed when he’s with you. “You’re insane, you can’t think this is a good idea. You’ve never even dated each other and now suddenly you’re married.”

Wonwoo is bringing to the surface all the little insecurities you’ve had about being married suddenly.

“I know it’s crazy, but I think this is a good idea. Seungcheol has liked me for a while, and I can’t lie, I've had feelings for him.”

He barks out a laugh. “That’s fucking fantastic. I’m so glad you talked about your feelings. Maybe try dating before just jumping into being married.”

That hurt so much more than you thought it would. Wonwoo’s reaction is worse than you could have imagined.

“Wonwoo, you’re being mean.”

“No, I’m being real. You and Cheol are in some honeymoon lalaland and not realizing this is absolutely insane.”

“We talked about this and we think it’s a good idea.”

The shame that takes over you, knowing that one reason Seungcheol wants to be married to you is so he can support and take care of you.

“I can’t stand here and lie to you, and say this is a good idea.” He pushes himself off the counter. “I’m going to head out.”

“You’re really just going to leave?” Tears brim your eyes as you try your hardest not to cry.

“Yes.”

“Wonwoo why are you acting like this?”

“Because if I would have gone on this trip, none of this would have happened.”

The feeling of an ice cold bucket of water being dumped on you makes the room fall dead silent. Wonwoo stands there looking defeated and tears are now sliding down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s fine, I should leave.” Without saying another word Wonwoo walks out of your new home. He doesn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone, he just leaves. The worst part of it all, is now you’re both hurt and you’re not quite sure you can ever fix things between you.

The tears don’t stop falling. How are you supposed to just walk back out there where all your friends are and act like nothing happened. Leaning against the counter you push away your tears.

Looking up you find Seungcheol walking towards you. “Baby what happened?” He rested his hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“Wonwoo said we’re crazy and said we should annul this.” Closing your eyes you try and stop the tears from falling.

“We might be crazy, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting this, from wanting you.”

“I want this.” You lean up towards him. He leans in, resting his nose against yours. “I want you.”

“Don’t let Wonwoo upset you. He’ll come around.”

“I need to stop crying. I don’t need the boys knowing about my fight with Wonwoo.”

He leans in pressing his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. “Mingyu left to go talk to him. He kind of stormed out, but none of the boys will judge you. Just go back out there and act like nothing happened.”

Seungcheol was right, walking back to the living room the remaining boys acted like nothing happened. Soonyoung is more interested in seeing your very expensive ring that Seungcheol bought you in Vegas.

“I can’t believe you were just sharing a room with me pretending you weren’t married.”

“Cut me some slack, we were trying to navigate this.”

Soonyoung nudges your shoulder. “I thought you had seemed happier since the club that night. Now it makes sense. Clearly our beloved Cheol is treating you right in more ways than one.” He raises his eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Soonyoung—“

“Fine, don't have to talk about it. But I want you to know if being married to Seungcheol makes you happy, I fully support you guys.”

The night comes to a close and the boys head out leaving you alone with your husband. Seungcheol finds you in the kitchen drinking a glass of wine. That conversation with Wonwoo was so much harder than you expected it to be.

Seungcheol comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your stomach. He rested his head on your shoulder. “Baby—”

“Cheol?”

“How about we take a bath together and then let me take care of you.”

“Okay.”

Seungcheol en-suite bathroom is double the size of yours in your small one bedroom apartment. There is a standalone large shower, and bathtub that can comfortably fit two people. The bath is filled with vanilla scented water and lots of bubbles. Seungcheol is sitting with his back against the edge and you’re lounging between his legs.

Silently you play with the bubbles in front of you. Seungcheol is focused on you. He can tell how upset you are. He knows your conversation with Wonwoo hurt your feelings. Anyone who knows you, knows how close you and Wonwoo are. He’s pretty sure you and Wonwoo have never even had an argument.

“I like you so much.” He says capturing your attention. His hand rests on your soft stomach, kneading the flesh. His hand dips lower, his finger dips between your folds. Slowly his finger starts toying with your sensitive clit. “Relax and let me take care of you.”

It’s only been a week and somehow Seungcheol knows all the right places to touch to make you fall apart instantly.

Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. Rolling your head back against his shoulder, you moan loudly. “You’re so good for me.” He whispered against your ear. “Let’s get you out of here and move this to our bed.”

Seungcheol referring to things in his home as yours still feels strange.

Laying on the bed with a sea of expensive high thread cotton sheets surrounding you. Your legs are spread. Your husband is sitting on his knees slowly thrusting into you over and over again.

“You feel so good.” He moans.

His hand rests on your mound. His thumb is rubbing circles on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

When you’re like this with Seungcheol nothing else seems to matter. You aren’t thinking about your fight with Wonwoo. You aren’t thinking about money. The only thing you can think about is how he’s making you feel.

His pace is slow and deep. Your body is learning to adapt to the sheer size of your husband’s cock.

The closer you get to your orgasm washing over you, the closer you want him. Your reach for him. All you can do is moan his name. Instantly he knows what you want. His body hovers over you, caging you in. Your fingers tangle in his hair holding him close to you. Rolling his hips into you, his pelvis keeps brushing your clit, pushing you closer and closer.

The moment the knot in your stomach snaps you find your release moaning his name like a prayer. His own release follows. Echoing sounds of low moans and broken words pass his lips. He fills you to the brim and stills hovering over you. He doesn’t move, he just leans down and kisses you repeatedly.

“I’m so happy you’re my wife.” He said against your lips.

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s been three weeks since you last saw Wonwoo. Every time you contemplate texting him and asking him to talk, you end up chickening out.

During this time you have been trying so hard to get used to your new life. Luckily you were finally able to secure a few new writing jobs. Things in your professional life finally seem to be going in the right direction.

Your week days are filled with hanging out in the kitchen in your makeshift office, while Seungcheol goes into work.

Things with your new married life are taking a little bit to get used to. You aren’t quite sure you’ll ever be able to properly comprehend how much money Seungcheol truly makes. The amount of money Seungcheol has no issue dropping on you is absolutely absurd. This whole sharing his bank account situation is still rubbing you the wrong way.

Standing in the grocery store you’re pushing the cart listening to Soonyoung tell you all about his date. After one single date he’s basically already in love with this girl.

At the check out you watch the total slowly go up. Without even thinking you go to grab your own credit card. One that’s for an account not attached to your husband’s.

Before you can tap your card you see Soonyoung give you a look. “Why aren’t you using his credit card?”

“I can pay for myself.”

“I know you can, but you aren’t just buying groceries for yourself now. They’re for him too, and he’s going to be pissed if he realizes you spent your own personal money on him.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab the black metal card Seungcheol gave you. “I hate this. This whole thing makes me feel like he’s my sugar daddy.”

“Pinky, he can’t be your sugar daddy when he’s literally your husband. He wants to support his wife. It’s his job. For the love of god, just let him spend money on you.”

After grocery shopping with Soonyoung you head home and put everything away. The whole time you’re alone with your thoughts you think about reaching out to Wonwoo. It’s eating away at you, that your friendship might be over because of your marriage. Even though you miss Wonwoo, you can’t bring yourself to give up your marriage to make him happy.

Another thing that can’t seem to leave your mind is the whole spending Seungcheol money situation. It doesn’t leave your mind the entire day.

After a long day at work Seungcheol asked if you would go out to dinner with him. Sitting in another expensive restaurant, you look at the menu, your eyes about bulge out of your head at the prices. Looking up at Seungcheol he’s scrolling through his phone.

“Cheol, this place is expensive.”

“It's fine, just order whatever you want.”

The waitress comes back around. Seungcheol orders a bottle of wine and an expensive steak. She turns to you.

“I’ll take the house salad.”

“Is that all?” She takes the menu from your hands.

“Yes.”

Seungcheol hands over his menu and tilts his head at you. “Why did you only order an appetizer salad?”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Baby, I told you money isn’t an issue.”

“I’m aware, but to me this place is too expensive.”

He opens his mouth to speak and instantly closes it. There is a long beat of silence as you just stare at each other.

“How was work?” You’re trying your hardest to change the subject.

“It was fine. Some clients came in and I had Jeonghan and Mingyu handle it. I was thinking about taking some time off, so we could celebrate being married just the two of us.”

“How long?”

“Maybe a week.”

The waitress comes over with a bottle of wine and silently pours each of you a glass.

“Before you go, can my wife please order the salmon risotto?”

You go to open your mouth and he sends you a look basically letting you know not to complain.

Reaching for the glass of wine, you bite your tongue. You want to tell him to stop spending money on you, but you know this is a fight.

The rest of dinner is quiet. You don’t complain about the money, just sit there making small talk with him. The moment the check comes you blankly stare at the table. You don’t want to know how much the bill is. You know the sound of his metal black card hitting the check book.

He stands up and takes your hand leading you out towards the valet. Seungcheol can tell something is wrong. You might not have been married very long, but you’ve been friends for over a decade. He knows how to read you like an open book. He’s well aware he’s upset you.

Arriving home the elevator ride is just as quiet as the car ride home. Seungcheol knows you need to talk before going to bed.

He goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water while you head off to the bedroom. Walking back into the bedroom he finds you putting on your pajamas.

“Pinky?”

“Yes?” You turn to face him.

“If you’re going to yell at me, can you please do it now?”

A heavy sigh passes your lips. Sitting on the edge of the bed. “Cheol I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to yell at you. I wish you would realize how jarring all of this is for me.” He stands in front of you and silently listens to what you have to say. “I went from struggling to get writing jobs and living from paycheck to paycheck to this. It’s insane you have no problem dropping thousands on me. I’m not used to this luxury lifestyle you live.”

“I make so much money, I’m happy I finally have someone to spend it on.”

“That’s nice, but this whole lifestyle doesn’t feel real to me. It makes me uncomfortable just throwing your card around like it’s nothing. I want you to be my husband, not my sugar daddy.”

“I’ll try and tone it down. Just understand that occasionally I’m going to want to spoil you.”

“We need to find a middle ground.”

“I’ll try to calm down with the money.” He stepped closer to you. Putting his hand under your chin he tilts your head up. He drags his thumb across your bottom lip. “I don’t want to upset you. My goal as your husband is to support you emotionally and to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy. I just need you to understand where I’m coming from.”

“I do.”

Leaning down he presses his lips to yours. You honestly don’t want to fight with him. This conversation could change a lot of things. You hope that he truly understands.

A few days passed and Seungcheol decided to take a week off of work to spend time as a properly married couple. On the first day he asked if you wanted to take a vacation somewhere and you immediately shut that down.

You’re on day three and after taking a trip to the museum and getting lunch, you’re laying on the couch together watching a movie. He just placed an order for your favorite Thai food place.

He’s laying on his back with you resting between his legs. “How do you feel about eventually having a proper wedding?”

You’ve definitely thought about this a few times.

“I’m not opposed to it.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. I would like to properly marry you in front of our friends and families.”

You want to stay married but it oddly feels too soon to be thinking about this. “Maybe we should wait a little while to plan this.”

“Okay.” He’s a little sad you clearly don't want to do this now, but he’s trying to be understanding.

“When do we have a proper wedding can it not be super expensive?”

“It can be whatever you want it to be. You can have full reign planning it.” He doesn’t care how his wedding looks as long as you’re the one walking down the aisle towards him. He pined after you for years. All he cares about is you’re finally his.

“Is Soonyoung going to be your man of honor?”

You’ve known Soonyoung since you were sixteen. He’s been your best friend ever since. It would be weird if he wasn’t your man of honor.

“Yes. Is your best man Jeonghan?” You lace your fingers with his. Gently squeezing his hand.

“I think he would kill me in my sleep if I picked someone else.”

“He would make me a widow if you hurt his feelings like that.”

“I have to make sure I don’t die on you.” He brings your hands up to his lips and presses a kiss to the top of your hand. “I’m enjoying being home and getting to spend time with you.”

“This has been nice.” You’ve known Seungcheol for a decade, but this feels like you’re getting to know each other on a romantic and more intimate level.

Soon your take out arrives and you spend the evening eating dinner and enjoying each other's company. As night falls you’re tangled up in your sheets. Laying on your stomach with a pillow under your hips. Seungcheol is on his knees straddling your legs. He pushes his hips into yours at a slow and deep pace. This angle has his hitting spots inside of you that have never been reached.

Your fingers grip the sheet. Closing your eyes you moan his name. He’s stretching you out in the best way possible. Leaning down he presses a trail of open mouth kisses across your spine.

“Fuck—“

“You feel so good.” He moans.

Lifting your hips, you push them back slightly to meet his thrust. Sex with your husband is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

“Baby.” His moans are intoxicating.

“I’m— cl-close.” He’s practically made you a rambling mess.

“Cum for me.”

He picks up his pace helping both of you chase your highs. Squeezing your eyes closed your high washes over you like a white hot wave. He gets two more thrust in before he slams his lips into your butt hitting his own high. He feels you to the brim with his milky white release.

Pulling out of you, he watches intently as his release leaks out of you.

Jumping off the bed he cleans up the mess he made before crawling into bed with you. Pulling you close to him your head rests on his chest as he gently rubs your side. It’s not long before sleep finds both of you.

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You’ve been married for two months and things are finally starting to feel normal. Seungcheol has chilled out after practically throwing money at you.

It’s been a long day for you. You lucked out and found a new writing job that pays well. You’ve spent all day trying to finish as much as possible whileSeungcheol’s been at the office all day. The moment he gets home he immediately finds you in your bedroom working on writing. You’ve made yourself cozy on the bed with your lap desk and a cup of tea.

“Jeonghan is hosting a game night tonight.” He says walking across the bedroom towards you.

You close your laptop, setting it on your nightstand. “Is everyone going to be there?” It’s been a while since your whole friend group has hung out. Things have been a little office since everyone found out about your marriage.

“That’s what I’m being told.”

“Does that include Wonwoo?”

He leans against the dresser and lets out a heavy sigh. He knows that this whole Wonwoo situation is eating away at you. He’s never liked seeing you sad, and knowing that you’re hurt right now makes him want to fix this.

“Probably not.”

“It’s safe to say I ruined our friend group.”

“You didn’t ruin the friend group. You aren’t the only one who is to blame here. He’s not just upset with you.”

“I hate this.”

“Pinky, can I ask you something?” He has a feeling he already knows the answer to this, but it’s going to eat away at him if he doesn’t ask you.

“Yeah?”

“I know Wonwoo liked you, but did you also like him?” His question caught you off guard. What the hell did he mean? Wonwoo liked you too?

“At one point I’m pretty sure I was in love with him, it was one-sided though.” This is the first time you’re admitting out loud you were in love with Wonwoo.

The look on Seungcheol's face hurts. His normal bright eyes have sadness behind him. “Pinky—“ He thought everyone knew Wonwoo was in love with you. “Wonwoo liked you.”

You’re giving him a look he can’t even explain. You look like he just told you the worst news possible. “Oh—“

“It seems half the group knew about your feelings and the other half knew about his. Maybe that’s why so many people were confused about us getting together.”

“Wonwoo liked me?” Suddenly it feels like the glass floor below you shattered. How on earth did you not realize that he liked you back.

“Yeah.”

“ I just feel so confused. I thought when I was in love with him it was one-sided.” Your eyes brim with tears.

“I’m sorry—“ He whispers, watching as your tears slide down your cheek.

“I think I should go.” You push yourself off the bed.

“Pinky—“

“Cheol, I’m confused and I need space.” Walking off to the closet, grab the closest duffle bag you can find.

Closing his eyes he tries his hardest not to cry. Walking over to the bed he sits there silently watching you pack a bag to leave him. Everything is suddenly crumbling and he doesn't know what to say or do to fix it.

When your bag is finally packed you don’t kiss him goodbye. He follows you to the front door. Before you can leave he grabs your hand.

“I’m begging you not to give up on us. I know this is confusing and I’m sorry about everything. Just please give us a chance.”

“I’m going to stay with either Soonyoung or Joshua.” Those are the last words out of your mouth before you walk out of the door.

Game night is essentially canceled. Soonyoung and Joshua rush to meet up with you, so you aren’t alone.

Jeonghan, Minghao, and Mingyu go to the bar with a very upset Seungcheol. The only way he’ll get through the night is if he drinks enough to forget. He knew when you found out about Wonwoo you might take it badly, but he didn’t expect for you to confess you were basically in love with Wonwoo before you got married.

Sitting on Soonyoung’s couch you cry your eyes out telling the boys about what happened. You embarrassingly cry about your missed connection with Wonwoo.

Your mind can’t seem to let go of the thought that you could have been with Wonwoo. You told yourself over a year ago you got over him. You finally moved on and weren’t in love anymore. Why did Seungcheol admitting Wonwoo returned feelings suddenly break your heart? Things with Seungcheol are good, why are you questioning if you should stay married?

Soonyoung holds you close as you cry. “Pinky, I think you should stay here. You and Seungcheol can work this out. But I think you need to figure out what you feel for Wonwoo.”

“Soonyoung is right, I think you need to navigate your feelings for Wonwoo. From what you have said, you were in love with him. Cheol basically gave you emotional whiplash confirming Wonwoo had feelings for you.”

Week one, it feels like a breakup. You find yourself trapped in Soonyoung's guest room at your own volition. You've cried on and off for days. You only leave the room when Soonyoung or Joshua drags you out.

Seungcheol isn't fairing much better. He's found himself at the bottom of a bottle, attempting to drink away his pain. He feels guilty for how everything unfolded between you.

Week three, you're back to working nonstop on writing assignments. You've just thrown yourself into work. You're back to living paycheck to paycheck. You've offered to pay Soonyoung rent for taking up his guest room, but every time he refuses to take any of your money.

This week Seungcheol stopped by Soonyoung's studio to attempt to check on you.

"Cheol why are you here?"

Soonyoung wasn't expecting to see him. Since your "break up" or more so "break" the friend group has been in a state of disarray. Things have seemed to split between everyone. Wonwoo is only speaking to Mingyu. Seungcheol is only seeing Mingyu, Minghao and Jeonghan. You're living with Soonyoung and only seeing him and Joshua. Everyone is aware Jeonghan and Joshua are still seeing each other. The only details Seungcheol has received regarding about you are the things Jeonghan has shared.

"I'm here to see how my wife is doing." Seungcheol sounds like a broken man. He's experienced heartbreak before, but this feels so different.

"Cheol, she's clearly hurt and confused." Soonyoung has done and will do anything to protect you. Even if that means protecting you from the man you've fallen in love with.

"I hate this." Seungcheol sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair.

"Do you think I like this? She's miserable, and clearly you're miserable."

"How is work going for her?" He knows you've gone back to picking up a ton of writing jobs. He's also very aware you haven't been using any of his cards he's given you. He hates that you're going to be struggling to get by again.

"She's always working. She's always on her laptop writing." Soonyoung knows he needs to let Seungcheol know at least some of what is going on with you.

"Are you charging her for rent?"

Soonyoung barks out a bitter laugh. "Fuck you, Cheol. You know I would never ask her for money."

Seungcheol looks down feeling ashamed he even asked. This whole situation is a mess, things feel so tense between him and Soonyoung now. "I'm sorry I asked. I came here to offer you money for taking her in."

Soonyoung rolls his eyes. "Dude she's not a burden. She's fine, she can stay with me as long as she wants."

"God, I just want her back." Seungcheol sighs.

"Yeah, I know Cheol. You just need to give her space. She'll come back to you when she's ready.”

“What if she's never ready?"

"She will be. So give her space."

A month and half in, you still can't kick the aching feeling in your chest. Joshua finally convinced you to have a movie night with him and Soonyoung. You're caught off guard when you find Jeonghan standing in Joshua's kitchen.

"Pinky." Jeonghan smiles the moment he sees you.

"Hannie." Your eyes brim with tears instantly. You've missed him so much.

Jeonghan steps closer to you and pulls you into a hug. You haven’t been seeing all the boys, but you know you've probably destroyed the whole friend group.

Jeonghan releases you and kisses your forehead. "I was tired of you avoiding me. I had to force Shua to let me crash your movie night."

Reaching up you push away your tears that have fallen.

"Pinky, why are you crying?"

"I miss you. I miss what our friend group used to be. I miss—" you want to say your husband's name desperately. You've missed him nonstop since the moment you walked out of your home you had shared.

"We miss you too." He reaches down, brushing away your tears. "He misses you like crazy. He asks me every day if I have heard from you."

Hearing Jeonghan mention Seungcheol makes your chest squeeze. "I miss him too. I'm just still confused."

"That's okay, Pinky."

"Can you tell him I say hi?"

"Of course."

Two months in Seungcheol has reached his breaking point. He's aware his marriage might be over, but even if it is, he wants you to fix things with Wonwoo.

Swallowing his pride he goes to see Wonwoo. He hasn't seen Wonwoo in four months, since that night everyone found out about your marriage. Wonwoo and Mingyu have lived together since college. Mingyu was kind enough to let him know Wonwoo is home.

Knocking on the front door he holds his breath waiting. The door opens, and Wonwoo stares at him looking confused.

"Why are you here?" Wonwoo finally speaks.

"I'm assuming you know Pinky and I are on a break?"

Wonwoo holds the door open and steps aside for Seungcheol to walk in. He walks over and sits on the couch that's placed under the window. Seungcheol sits on the chair across from the couch.

"I know about your break. Mingyu let me know." Wonwoo is just as torn up about your friendship. He's devastated at how things unfolded between the two of you that night. He can still see the way you looked at him.

"That doesn't tell me why you're here Cheol."

"Did Mingyu tell you what happened between us?"

"Nope." He didn't ask any questions. He honestly didn't feel comfortable knowing what happened.

"Well I always knew you were in love with her, but I didn't realize she loved you."

Wonwoo's eyes go wide. He feels like he's been punched in the gut. "What?"

Seungcheol lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hands up and down his face. "I didn't realize you both had feelings for each other and it's clear, Pinky has unresolved feelings for you."

"Cheol, I didn't know."

"I know. If I had known— even though I love her Wonwoo, I don't think I would have made a move on her. I thought you were the only one with feelings for her." His voice is shaky, and he sounds as if he's about to fall apart at any moment.

This whole situation is a god damn mess. "Cheol, she doesn't love me anymore. She wouldn't have married you if she did."

"I keep trying to tell myself that."

Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he sits them down on the couch next to him. He pinches his nose taking a deep breath. "What do you want from this conversation?"

Seungcheol isn't sure why he fully came here. To be honest he just wants you and Wonwoo to fix things between you in one way or another. If he loses you to Wonwoo, it might break his heart, but he'll be okay one day if he knows you're happy.

"I just want you back in Pinky's life. I don't care if she picks you, I just want you to be there for her."

Wonwoo leans forward resting his elbows on his knees. "You really love her don't you."

"Wonwoo, I love her so fucking much."

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The front door opens and you hear footsteps approaching. Looking up you find Wonwoo standing there. God you’ve missed seeing him.

He sat down at the table across from you. He paused for a moment. “Your husband came and talked to me. I think he’s right. We should talk. I’m sorry about how things ended last time we talked. ”

“What?” Closing your laptop you knit your brows at him.

“He told me that you’re torn up over not talking to me.”

It's been six months since you last saw him, and the sight of him sitting front of you makes you want to cry.

“Wonwoo, this whole thing is a mess.”

“He also told me that he informed you that I was basically in love with you.”

“I had no clue." There is a twisting feeling in your stomach.

“It’s okay, I didn’t realize you felt the same way. I always just assumed you were in love with Cheol.” It's clear you were oblivious to the affection both boys had for you.

“This whole situation is complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Wonwoo, my brain can’t process the fact I’m fucking married and now I’m finding out you were in love with me.”

“Did you still love me when you went to Vegas?” He asks calmly.

“No.”

“Then why does it matter?”

“Because what if we're supposed to be together?”

It’s the what ifs that are now eating you alive.

“But we aren’t, so why does it matter?”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because you’re literally married, and it’s clear Seungcheol is in love with you. You might not want to admit it, but you love him now.” He reaches out, taking your hand.

“Wonwoo—“

“Do you actually want to be with me? Do you want to give up everything you’ve built with him?”

“No.”

“Then it doesn’t matter what we used to feel.”

“I’m scared of what I have with him. The whole thing has felt like a whirlwind, and we haven’t done anything in the correct order.”

“Don’t be scared. If I didn’t think Seungcheol was good for you, I would have kept pushing for you to end your marriage.”

“It would have been so much easier if we dated first.”

“Then tell him you want to date, before you go back to acting like a married couple. Tell him you need space of your own.”

"Wonwoo."

"Yeah, Pinky?"

"I missed you so much." You can't help but cry.

Wonwoo stands up and walks over to you. He holds his hand out. You grab it as you stand up. Without even thinking you wrap your arms around him holding him close. You cry as he holds you. His large hand runs up and down your back, soothing you.

"Wonwoo how do I fix things with him?"

He pulls away a little. Before leaning anything he leans down and kisses your forehead. "I think it's time you go home to your husband."

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Soonyoung helps you pack up your stuff and Jeonghan offers to give you a ride to your home you share with Seungcheol. Pulling into the parking garage Jeonghan glances over at you. What if it's been too long and Seungcheol has decided he no longer wants you back.

"Pinky?"

"Huh?"

"Are you nervous?"

"Yeah, I broke his heart leaving. What if he's decided he doesn't want me back?"

Jeonghan reaches over unbuckling your seatbelt. "Don't be dumb Pinky, he clearly still wants you. He wouldn't have sent Wonwoo to you if he didn't."

Taking a deep breath you open the door. Jeonghan walks to the back and grabs your two duffle bags. He helps you carry your stuff into the elevator and walks down the hall to the door of the penthouse.

Standing at the door, you pause, it's been two months, should you knock or just walk in? Jeonghan doesn't let you get lost in your thoughts. He puts in the door code and walks in.

Seungcheol is standing in the kitchen when you enter.

"Cheol, I brought your wife back." Jeonghan can't help but smile.

You awkwardly wave, "hi, Cheol."

"Hi, baby." Him calling you baby instantly makes you smile. Jeonghan takes your back from you and heads off the master bedroom. You and Seungcheol don't say anything for a moment. It's almost as if you're both waiting for your time alone so you can talk.

Jeonghan comes back into the entry way. "I'm going to leave you guys alone. I'm going to go get dinner with Shua."

The front door locks and Seungcheol holds out his hand. Without even thinking you take his hand. He leads you off to the dining room. He pulls out a chair and you sit down. He sits down across from you. This all feels so weird.

You break the screaming silence that has formed between you. "Wonwoo came to see me."

"I know."

"He told me it shouldn't matter that we had a missed connection. I wasn't in love with him when we got married, and even if I'm afraid to admit it, I'm in love with you."

Seungcheol can't help but smile at the fact you're admitting you love him. "You love me?"

"Yeah I do, and because I love you, it shouldn't matter that I missed what could have been between me and Wonwoo."

Seungcheol reaches across the table and laces his fingers with yours. "Pinky, I love you, and I haven't stopped, even while you were gone."

"That's good, because I want to work on our marriage."

He squeezes your hand. "You wanna stay married?"

"Yeah I do."

He can't help it when his eyes brim with tears. When he sent Wonwoo to see you, he had given up all hope that things would stay the same with you two. "I missed you so much, baby."

"I missed you too."

Seungcheol stands up and you do the same. He walks over to you, and pulls you into his chest. Pulling back you look up at him. Without a second thought he crashes his lips into yours for a desperate kiss. He hasn't seen you in months and every part of his body and soul has craved you. He never wants to go even a day without talking to you.

Pulling away a little he smiles down at you. "I have a request."

"What's that baby?" He'll do anything you could possibly ask him to.

"We can still be married, but can we act like we're dating. I feel like we skipped so many steps and I want to experience what it's like to date you."

He gives you a big smile. "We can absolutely do that."

Ten months later you find yourself preparing to walk down the aisle for an official wedding with your husband. Things have gone back to normal with your friend group. This time when you're getting married all your family and friends are here.

Your bridal party consists of Soonyoung as your man of honor. The rest of your bridal party is a mix of Minghao's girlfriend, Joshua, and your cousin. Seungcheol's best man is obviously Jeonghan, he was very serious when he threatened to make you a widow when Seungcheol joked about picking someone else with him. His groomsmen are Mingyu, Minghao, and Wonwoo.

Wonwoo managed to sneak off and met up with you, Soonyoung and Joshua. All three boys doted on you telling you on and on about how beautiful you look.

Walking down the aisle you immediately cry at the sight of Seungcheol waiting for you. Your wedding is everything you've ever dreamed of. It's not some crazy lavish event, it's the perfect wedding for you. The one expensive Seungcheol fought you on, was paying for the dress of your dreams.

Your vows are perfect, Seungcheol lights up as he's told to kiss the bride. Your kiss is dramatic, he dips you, kissing you in a grand fashion. Friends and family cheer applauding.

The reception feels like a blur. It's the perfect party, Seungcheol made a big deal about multiple open bars, and having it in a big venue for all your friends and family to party.

The ceiling above the dance floor is draped in sparkling twinkle lights. The song you picked for your first dance plays. Your arms are wrapped around his neck as you sway to the beat of the music. There isn’t some grand choreo, it’s just the two of you lost in the moment in the middle of the dance floor. All eyes are on you, but the only thing you can focus on is Seungcheol.

"I love you," He says just loud enough for you to say.

"I love you too."

You might have had an untraditional start, but the only thing that matters is you ended up here.

[sweetinsaniiity]

White Line Fever

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - king!San x fem!reader ◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - historical and royalty au, cursed trope, angst, slow burn, tension, San is cold and a bit mean but only in the beginning, magic, generalised dark themes, not-so forced proximity, engagement, sacrifice, power imbalance, San got so darn sweet here it was driving me insane, downbad!San (stand up, my guy) ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!! vomiting (San was unwell), slight mentions of blood (from injuries) , kinky smut, possessive!San, making out, nipple play, exhibitionism, pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, cum on mouth and face, cum play, choking on cum, standing up sex, cowgirl, missionary, breeding kink, clothed sex, dacryphilia, degradation, marking kink, slight sadism and masochism (just squint), creampie, unprotected sex, (DO NOT DO THIS) ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 30.8K words (sorry Topaz) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - San ruled a kingdom buried in snow, rumoured to be cursed, where people cannot leave once entered. The snow was harsh, unforgiving, never melted, and it only took but never gave. He was cursed king with a cursed land, and you were engaged to him not out of love, but to steady the crown that nobody respected due to fear. He treated you with coldness and formality, reinforcing the rumours that he was incapable of warmth, let alone affection. But as the truth of the curse unraveled, so did your understanding of the man you were meant to marry, and now one question remained - is San the cursed one or was he the one who cursed the land? ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - This is my submission for the KSS Frost & Fire Exchange event for @sanjoongie (surprise!) who made that beautiful moodboard and wrote me a fic in return. I really tried my best here and I'm sorry it got so long, your moodboard looked a little too good to not have crazy plot in there. I genuinely hope you like this, I'm actually terrified ah.◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs @sunnysidesins @jjongbearshoney @midnightrebel1028 @mallielovssyou @jenluvzen @lovebuggjoy @mingiblossoms @crybabydollette @mustardmilkshake @asesinas @minyunsan-kitten ◄

He was a king with a crown of gnarled bones.

At least, that’s what they all said. An eye isn’t an eye because you look at it -  it’s an eye because it looks back at you and we don’t see things as they are; we see them as we are.

“What of the other kingdoms?” His voice traversed the vast hall, echoing against the stone walls of the Great Halls. He was impassive, nonchalant, but make no mistake, for his presence blanketed the entire expanse of the room.

You stood obediently off to the far side of his throne, almost unseen, but there nonetheless, just patiently waiting until the meeting was done. It was hard not to stare at the enigma that was Choi San. It wasn’t that he called for everyone’s attention just because he was the king, rather, he demanded it. 

He didn’t need it either. He just had it. Even a sliver of his shadow had everyone’s attention. Hell, even his footsteps sounded different from the rest. San wasn’t domineering nor commanding because he wore a crown. He was dominant because the air bent around for him.

“Word travels fast, my liege. I reckon it’s already reached the kingdoms up north like that of Wonderland and Horizon,” Park Seonghwa reported, reverence in his tone as he addressed his King. “I could send the troops to check out their militia and perhaps where their loyalties lie.”

Your eyes momentarily fleeted towards Seonghwa. The High Marshal was an honourable and proper leader, a skilled military man who led the kingdom’s armies in multiple battles and wars not many have had the guts to, and you knew he had San’s utmost respect. As if sensing eyes on him, he briefly met eyes with you, smiling in courtesy, before training them at San once more.

“No need,” San droned, raising one hand, halting motion that meant to stop even your inner thoughts. Such was the power he wielded. “The risk is too high for so little reward.”

He paused, tilting his head to the side, looking out the large window that overlooked the vast majority of the castlegrounds that were covered in nothing but thick snow. Melancholy was clear in his eyes, though he tried to cover it up with something steely.

He stood up from his throne slowly, deliberately as his eyes scanned the entirety of the room, leaving no space from anyone to breathe under his suffocating gaze. His fur-lined cloak that draped over his shoulders shifted with him, following his every movement as he began to walk off, the finality of his steps leaving no room for anyone to argue with him.

“Rest up, Seonghwa,” he said, the words low but echoing, as if the castle itself carried his voice forward for him. “The troops as well. You’ve done me well.”

Seonghwa blinked before inhaling sharply. He trudged forward, brows furrowed. “Your Grace—”

“I said,” San murmured, barely audible, but it was there. Everyone heard it, and the air shifted into something sharp as his voice tilted into a quiet warning. “Rest up.”

You gritted your teeth, composing yourself to stop the shiver that threatened to travel up your spine. This…you will never get used to this - to him. His words drifted through the Great Halls and they held weight enough to crush whatever protest Seonghwa thought he could muster.

San continued forward, not bothering to look back as his footsteps got closer and closer until he was almost in front of you. Immediately, you bowed, bunching your dress up in your fists as you lowered your head slightly. 

One would expect that as the king’s betrothed that he’d give you the same curtsy, or at least acknowledge you, but the way he completely ignored your existence was what you got. You were used to it. You had anticipated it, even. What a pity on your end, really.

As San passed you to walk away, his eyes briefly met yours, and by God, were they cold and indifferent. His gaze was earth-dark, not empty and not grounding, like land that dried up anything that grew on it.

What you weren’t expecting, however, was for him to stop halfway to address you. You tensed, this has never happened before. You tried to hold eye contact, but couldn’t. You couldn’t stand the way he stared at you because it always made you flinch. It was dark and dangerous.

“What are you doing here?” San questioned tersely, voice carrying a hint of irritation he tried to hide with courtesy. “Where’s Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong was your guard. “Your Majesty,” you mumbled through the intimidation. “Forgive my impudence. I was merely wondering if I could invite you for a cup of tea—”

“Answer my question,” he interrrupted, cutting you off cleanly like a blade that just hit fresh grass. His eyes were narrowed, unblinking and unyielding.

“My King,” Choi Jongho, the King’s royal advisor, whispered subtly. “Perhaps we ought to calm down, the people are looking our way—”

San lifted one finger, effectively silencing his own advisor with a subtle threat that carried the promise of ruin as if he’d already planned his end if he let one more word out. All while his eyes were still on you. “Hongjoong,” he repeated. “Where is he?”

You swallowed, your tongue suddenly heavy. “Hongjoong didn’t need to accompany me,” you said carefully. “I was on my way to see you, Your Majesty, so I dismissed him.”

San stilled, and so did you. He wasn’t pleased with your answer, but he didn’t look the least surprised by it. In fact, he didn’t even care. “I see,” was all he said, and the way he uttered it sounded more like an afterthought rather than an acknowledgement.

Then, he started walking past you again. It wasn’t dramatic, he had just already decided you were not worth another second of his attention. You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to bow to him once more as heat and shame traveled to your face at his blatant dismissal of you.

It wasn’t because you feared him. You stopped fearing him a long time ago, and if you were being honest, you never had any reason to fear him or be intimidated by him to begin with simply because he barely acknowledged your presence, anyway. 

“Do not loiter around the Great Halls,” he spoke, cold and uncaring. “Next time, send a message if you have something you wish to tell me. You serve no purpose being idle around here.”

You were used to his disdain he reserved solely for you, but still, that stung more than you let on. It was the way he said it, too, that made you feel worse. It was meant to haunt your thoughts, the kind that followed you even after he was gone. 

You stood there, hands clasped, head bowed, letting the echo of his footsteps fade down the corridor. You felt a hand to your shoulder and it was Jongho. He gave you a tight-lipped smile that was meant to comfort you, squeezing your shoulder once as his eyes shone with that familiar pity that everyone also gave you when the king talked down on you like he always did.

“Don’t take it to heart,” he said with a small sigh, eyes on the corridor that San had turned. “He’s…it’s not like that, he didn’t mean it like that.”

You hummed, nodding out of courtesy. “I suppose,” you mumbled, barely audible. “Just like the tens of thousands of times he’s done it.”

Because you did try, you always did. You tried doing your part to get along with the man you were going to spend your earthly years with in this castle, and you had hoped foolishly that he'd meet you halfway all the time, but all you’ve been getting was contempt. Mingi stayed silent, for even he cannot deny that you were right.

“Let me accompany you to your chambers, my lady,” he kindly offered. “Supper will commence shortly. I would suppose you’d like to rest for a bit before then.”

“There is no need,” you mumbled quietly, smiling softly. “I can find my way back. And I’m going to have to decline supper for tonight, my appetite has gone away. Would you be so kind to send our dear chef my regards? Yeosang’s food is always splendid, just not tonight, I’m afraid.”

Jongho frowned, hesitant, before sighing. “As you wish, my lady. I bid you a good night.”

You curtsied quickly, turning the other direction to walk away. However, instead of going to your chambers, you chose to turn to another hallway, opting to take a walk to clear your head and your muddled thoughts.

The massive window at the end of the corridors always fascinated you. It was where you went when you had to think and today was no exception. You glanced outside, watching as endless snow fell from the sky. The hallways felt colder to you. San felt colder. Much colder.

A couple of months ago, you wouldn’t even dare dream stepping inside a palace, much less the one that San ruled. You still remember the first time you arrived and the first time you laid eyes on the man you were about to wed, but always put a wall in between you.

Poverty and famine had struck the lands where you were born and raised. You were used to it - born into it - but at least there was once a time where you lived on a quaint farm with your parents. But alas, famine chooses no one. It takes and takes, and your parents were no exception to that fate.

And you tried to sustain the farm, tried your very best to make the best of yourself under the dire circumstances you were handed, but it wasn’t enough. Drought had struck the land, crops died, and plague had seemingly struck what little poultry and bovine you raised. It was painful, but you had to leave your farm and village all together. You weren’t going to die along with it.

It wasn’t easy; none of it was. You had just lost both of your parents and your hometown all in the span of a month and you were a lone traveling girl looking for the next best thing without falling prey to thieves and vagabonds looking for their next victim.

But there was only so much you can take. Food was scarce, begging wasn’t an option any longer, and the streets weren’t the most conducive place to sleep most nights. Winter was coming and the chills weren’t helping your sore feet and empty stomach. 

Giving up wasn’t so terrible back then because at least, you could tell your maker that you had at least tried to survive - that you were a fighter who was just given a bad hand in life.

If you were going to perish from fatigue and hunger, though, you at least wanted to go where the air wasn’t thick with grief and suffering. If this was the end, you wanted it to be somewhere that at least looked like peace, even if you’d never quite managed to feel it.

And then, you remembered that there was a nearby kingdom that was rumoured to be surrounded with so much snow, it was impossible to see through it. You’ve never seen snow before. With your remaining money, you bought a horse and settled for the journey onto this unknown kingdom. 

“Just a moment,” the man you bought the horse from stopped you just as you were about to leave. “Where did you say you were going again?”

You hesitated, not because you were keeping your journey a secret, but the look in this man’s face seemed to tell you that he knew and was just confirming if he heard you right. “That kingdom that’s nearby here,” you finally answered. “The one in the snow.”

His eyes widened in shock before they drooped with something akin to alarm and trepidation all at once. “Oh, dear child, must you go? Are you not privy to the curse that lay in that land?”

The Kingdom of Utopia, but nobody called it that; they say that if you utter even the kingdom’s name, then the curse that befell there would be placed upon you. Such a beautiful name for a place no one can speak out loud.

Such a contradictory name for something that was anything but utopia.

Because the snow never melted. Not in the summer, not under the brightest suns. Snow covered the entire expanse of the land and it made inhabiting it near impossible. Some believed that the snow swallowed flames, and some believed the kingdom had been punished by the heavens themselves. No one knew the truth, and no one dared to go and find out.

“If that is the case,” you wondered out loud as you loaded what little of your belongings on your newly purchased horse. “Then why don’t the people just leave if it was so cursed?”

“Because they can’t,” the man answered, shivering slightly, though not because of the breeze that passed. “Once you get in, there is no way out. The snow is so thick and harsh that your soul would be gone from your body way before your foot can even attempt to step out. The people are trapped in there, my dear. I suggest traveling somewhere else.”

You were startled out of your memories when you heard a cough behind you. You turned around, expecting to find a servant who was wondering what the future queen was doing loitering around the halls, but you sighed in relief when you saw who it was instead.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Wooyoung chuckled, bowing his head slightly in curtsy. “Sir Hongjoong was a tad bit worried when you didn't come back to your chambers, my lady.”

You smiled in fondness. “I just wanted a bit of space, is all,” you said with a small shrug. “I needed time to think about certain things.”

A certain someone, you didn’t want to say, but Wooyoung already knew. His smile dropped slightly, eyes shining with sadness only you knew what for. “I know you’ve heard this all before,” he began. “But you have to extend a bit of understanding towards His Majesty. He’s…been through a lot, my lady. I implore you to forgive him.”

“I am far from angry at him,” you softly replied with a sigh. “I…just wish he’d drop his walls with me once in a while. It was my fault, I was the one who bothered him.”

“Nonsense, my lady,” Wooyoung quickly spoke, shaking his head vigorously. “You are his betrothed, you are allowed to bother him. Worry not, it’ll get better in time.” He extends a hand to you. “Shall I escort you back to your chambers, then?”

You nodded, putting your hand on top of his. Everyone always rushed to defend San whenever events like earlier happen, and you get it, Utopia did have its reputation and rumours after all.

But that’s all there was to it - rumours. Tales that are passed through taverns and alleyways to spook or entertain a wandering traveler. It wasn’t to frighten you. You’ve experienced the true horrors of what an actual curse is, and it took away everything you loved and held dear.

These were the thoughts that you couldn’t help but think the entire time Wooyoung led you to your room; your journey where it all began and why sometimes, you couldn’t even be mad at San whenever he deliberately dismissed you.

The entire journey, you were beginning to doubt everything. The biting chill of the snowstorm that hit your skin was almost painful . You’d think that the cold would’ve numbed you by now, but no. The more you traversed the land and the nearer you got, the more prickling it felt. It was like the snow was slowly sloughing your skin off until it reached your bones.

The kingdom was near enough where you didn’t have to stop and camp, but it was too late to go back by then. Grief and stubbornness lead you to where you were, knee deep in so much snow, your poor horse had a hard time crossing through it. Your fingers throbbed, your jaw ached, and your eyes watered from the sting of air that wished to carve itself into you.

Maybe they were right, because this was no ordinary weather - this was the land, itself, warning you. Coldness like this was meant to resent anybody that dared challenge it, and you were the fool who looked it in the eye and took it, anyway.

By a long shot of miracle, somehow, you managed to make it, though you were barely hanging on to the fact that you at least wanted to see if you could find a place for your horse to stay. It was your fault that it was put in this situation anyway. If not for your foolishness, it would have still been in another kingdom where it was warmer.

You were falling apart, you could tell, your senses were beginning to dull, and your already weakened state wasn’t helping at all. You found an empty alleyway, and the moment you hit the wall, your knees gave out, puffs of visible breath leaving out your mouth.

This was the end, you could feel it. You took this time to actually look at your surroundings now that you’re not moving. It was hard to regret it now that you’re here. Snow was beautiful, there was no other way to describe it. The texture of it felt funny in your hand, too. You were expecting it to feel fluffier. Still, it didn’t diminish its beauty and you didn’t mind.

You could see the castle walls from where you slumped, the pale outline of it through the white haze, where it housed the darker side of the rumours you’ve been told right before you traveled.

It was the king. Choi San. He was the centre of the rumours right where it all began, the very reason why they say Utopia was cursed. Some say that he was a demon who brought on the snow to isolate his kingdom. Most believed that the land that the castle was built upon was sacred and that the Choi clan did not heed the warnings and sent this was the punishment - that the snow itself was the everlasting famine destined to freeze everyone in it.

But the cruelest rumour of them all was that San, himself, might have been the source of the curse. People say that he sold his soul for eternal youth and immense power so long as the kingdom around him froze. 

You didn’t care, not anymore. All you wanted was to see something pretty before you went and this was more than enough for you. “Go on, pretty girl,” you whispered back then, patting the horse and encouraging it to find shelter. “You don’t belong out here. Go before you freeze.”

You shivered, feeling the cold even in your memories as Wooyoung opened the door for you with the practiced elegance of someone born to serve royalty. He helped you unfasten the heavier layers of your gown, and laid out your nightgown with gentle efficiency.

He turned away as you changed, always respectful and always giving you space, and when you slipped beneath the thick fur-lined blankets, he moved around the room to tidy what the maids had missed.

You watched him idly, noticing the flowers he was fixing in the embellished vase on your nightstand. Winter heathers. You knew of them from the occasional winters that hit your old village, the soft lilac bells that bloomed in spite of the frost that covered them and survived.

Something in the sight of them warmed you. This was one of the few things that made this cold kingdom bearable - there was always a different arrangement of flowers each night that Wooyoung fixed for you. “Thank you,” you murmured, smiling. “They’re beautiful.”

Wooyoung stilled for a heartbeat before offering you a soft smile. “I only arrange them, my lady,” he said lightly, brushing a petal with the tip of his finger. “I do not choose them.”

You lifted your gaze toward him, curiosity sparking. “Rest well, my lady,” he dipped into a graceful bow, opening the door to depart. “Tomorrow will be a long day.”

You lay still, the soft weight of the blankets warming skin that had once been thinned by cold wind and hunger. It was strange to experience all the good things that life was now offering you. Back then, you were ready to close your eyes for the last time; content with surrendering because fighting had simply become exhausting.

But fate, as always, had a way of intervening before you took even one more step toward surrender. You remembered watching as the horse trotted away. Satisfied, you tried to close your eyes, but you were confused when you saw a figure standing where your horse was.

And you were even more confused when they started bundling you up with multiple layers of clothing that felt heavy on your tired body, like the luxurious blankets covering you right now. It wasn’t enough to stop your teeth from chattering, but it was enough to keep you at bay for now.

“You’re not supposed to be out here. You’re almost at death’s door,” they mumbled, tucking the thick wool coat snugly on your body, sympathy lining their voice. “Where is your home? I will take you there. The storm is about to turn into a blizzard soon.”

You peeled your eyes open, realising that the person talking to you was a man. He was tall, decently good-looking, with eyes that naturally radiated tenderness as he stared at your pitiful form. And even in your state, you could sense that he was no ordinary man. 

“A mage. Who would’ve thought?” You laughed to yourself feebly, staring into his surprised eyes. “And I’ve no home. I am but a wandering traveler who has given up on life.”

He paused, pity in his eyes that observed your face for any signs of jest and deceit. He sighed deeply, dropping down to a squat to meet your gaze. “Though I am curious as to why you’d choose to be in our lands, it doesn’t have to be like that. I can help you.”

You hummed, shaking your head. “I’m going to have to decline, kind Sir,” you sincerely declined. “If you want to help, maybe help my horse. I would hate for her to freeze in your lands.”

It was then where his face completely fell into utter despair at your words. He took his fur-lined head covering, gently putting it on you. Your heartstrings tugged seeing this random stranger’s act of kindness towards someone like you.

“Oh, you poor child,” he clicked his tongue, pursing his lips, his calculating eyes turning just a tad bit sharper. “Even in dire circumstances, you care about an animal rather than yourself. You’re something special. I’ll help your horse if you let me help you.”

“What’s the catch?”

He tilted his head, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Smart girl,” he chuckled. “I have a proposition for you. We are desperate for help, you see, and I believe you’re the perfect person for it.”

He gets up, dusting the snow that had begun to line his pants, offering his hand to you. “Just know that even if you say no, I will still help you find food and shelter. Contrary to what the outsiders say…we’re not heartless monsters. How far would you go?”

You stared at his outstretched hand. Your heart was divided. This man didn’t give off any malicious aura and something deep in you told you to walk into the light he was offering. “Anything,” you said. “You’re asking a person who has nothing and everything to lose.”

His brows lifted with respect, a flicker of impressed astonishment softened the sharpness of his gaze. “Anything?” He repeated, quieter this time. 

You nodded once. “Anything,” you confirmed. “Why me?”

His expression warmed, the corners of his mouth lifting with a kind of earnest admiration. “When I touched you earlier, I saw a small glimpse of your past,” he said, his eyes glowing unnaturally golden and fiery that it felt like looking straight into the flames of the sun, surprising you. “You’ve lost everything, yet you still chose to fight. That tells me everything I need to know about you.”

He extended his hand a little nearer. “One condition,” you said, taking his hand without hesitation. “What might be the name of the mage who decided to help a poor soul like mine?”

“You may call me Yunho,” his smile deepened with a touch of relief as he wrapped his bigger hand around yours, warmth instantly flooding your body. “Now, shall we change your fate?”

After a warm meal and even warmer clothes, you were all set. What you didn’t expect was for Yunho to take you inside the castle, leading you directly where you knew the ruler of the land would be. You stiffened and Yunho took great notice of this.

“I know this might be surprising, but I promise you, no harm will come to you. Not while I’m here,” he gently explained. “And I know that the rumours about My Majesty don't really help, but please believe me, none of them hold any merit. He’s not like that.”

But you didn’t have time to think about it, because Yunho was already opening the ornate doors of the throne room, his hand on your lower back as he led you inside. You wanted to ogle at the glory and beauty of the room, but your world stilled at the sight before you.

San.

He was seated upon his throne, looking every bit the ruler whispered about in fearful legends. The way he sat - still and predatory - gave the unsettling impression that he saw far more than what lay before him. His throne was illuminated with torches, yet somehow, he shone far more.

Your breath caught in your throat, not with fear, but with awe. He was enormous, both physically and imposingly so, his broad shoulders wrapped with wool and fur that was so white, it looked like he made it out of the very snow that covered his entire kingdom. His long legs were crossed, one elbow leaned on the armrest, a finger to his temple as he stared on.

He didn’t move, didn’t even blink nor shift his posture when you and Yunho entered. And he was unfairly handsome. With his sculpted jaw and high cheekbones that complimented the way his raven hair was pulled away from his face, he was the epitome of royalty. And his eyes - God, those eyes - they were dark and unreadable.

It was then that it hit you - you thought that storm outside was cold, but it was nothing compared to the man sitting before you. 

“Jeong Yunho,” he said, his voice monotonous yet a lot more melodious than you thought. Such a juxtaposition, it was difficult to explain. “What is the meaning of this?”

He gazed at you once, but didn’t bother to greet nor acknowledge you, and you were completely fine with that. You didn’t know how you’d respond. Yunho bowed his head slightly. “I believe I have found the solution to our plight, San,” he gestures to you. “This is Y/N, she will help us.”

You raised a brow not only at the lack of title when Yunho referred to San but also at the mention of your name you knew for a fact you didn’t tell him. Silence enveloped the room before San spoke again. “She is not of this land,” he scrutinised flatly. “Why should she?”

The air tightened around you. You had no idea how he knew you weren’t from here. San uncrossed his legs, the gesture itself regal in all its glory, placing both his elbows on his knees before leaning forward. “Does she even know,” he continued, his gaze lingering on you for another second still devoid of warmth. “What she’s helping for, Yunho?”

He wasn’t challenging you, nor was he doubting you. He simply found your presence illogical and out of place, like you weren’t even supposed to be entertaining any of this. You fisted your dress, side-eyeing Yunho with nervousness because the king wasn’t wrong - you actually had no idea what you were doing here. God, you were such an idiot.

But what made it worse was San's indifference. You weren’t the only one surprised - he was too, it seemed. You weren’t the only one who’s given up every possibility out there.

Because San needed a bride, a queen to rule beside him. Not out of romance or even lineage, but more for desperation and legitimacy. San sat on the throne, yes, but he was but a king in title only. No other kingdoms wanted to acknowledge a king and a kingdom without a queen.

It was an ancient law older than the snow that blanketed the land, and the surrounding nations used that as justification to dismiss Utopia entirely, and used San’s half-recognised reign as a shield to reject him. They needed allies, an alliance, treaties, aid when the need arose, trade routes to sustain the people and their living - and they needed a queen to make it happen.

Yunho knew this. Everyone in the castle knew this. And it wasn’t like they didn’t try, because they did. They searched high and low both in and out of the kingdom and even the country as a whole just for that missing key to make San completely legitimate.

The problem lay in San’s complete isolation and rumoured reign. Princesses from neighbouring countries outright rejected the offer, noble daughters chose to flee to distant relatives, even regular people of foreign countries didn’t bother with a reply, and they all said the same thing - no one wanted to associate themselves with the cursed king and his frozen kingdom.

But there was one type of cruelty that cut deeper than the rest, because even the people of Utopia refused to marry him. Not the nobles, not the merchants, not the commoners. They simply didn’t want to share the fate of a king rumoured to be the heart of the snow.

And you - you who had simply wanted to find a beautiful resting place - you were never meant to be an option. Yet, here you were, standing before a king whose crown was true and real, but whose authority was hollow without any respect.

“You will be taken care of, treated fair and just with all the respect you deserve to have,” Yunho calmly explained albeit the hidden desperation that lined his eyes. “Please,  Y/N, we really need your help. The lack of allies will always pose a danger to our people and the snow…our food supply can only rotate so much because we have no functioning farms.”

You bit your lip, thinking. Hours ago, you had completely resigned to your fate and now, you were being offered a second chance in life you would have completely leapt at had it been given to you weeks prior. It wasn’t even because you were chosen, it was because you were the only one who stepped willingly into the snow when everyone else fled from it.

But, at what cost and to what extent? On one hand, you meant what you said earlier - you had absolutely nothing to lose, but this time, you had everything to gain. But at the same time, you were about to bind yourself to a king nobody wanted to associate themselves with.

You lifted your eyes to look at the said king, almost jumping out of your skin when you saw that he was already staring back at you. He wasn’t glaring. He wasn’t even particularly expressive. He was simply looking; assessing and measuring something only he understood.

Though the intensity of it spiked anxiety in you, you found it fascinating. He was being handed the solution to his problems as a king on a silver platter and yet, he wasn’t the least bothered by it. Like he had truly given up and didn’t care for what was to come anymore. Exactly like you.

Your spine straightened before you even realized it. “Alright,” you whispered. “I’ll do it.”

Relief washed over Yunho’s features so strongly he almost looked emotional. “Thank you,” he breathed out, grabbing your hands. “Thank you so much, Y/N. You have no idea how much this means to us and the people of Utopia. We will be forever in your debt.”

He turned to San, practically pleading for approval with his eyes, but the latter didn’t move. He didn’t even look like he was breathing - he just stared at you.  

And stared. And stared some more. He stared at you so long that the air completely became awkward and your legs actually started to ache from how long you were stared at. He stared at you long after the sun had started to sink into the horizon. It was long enough that Yunho started to fidget uncomfortably, letting out an uncomfortable laugh to break the silence. “Uhm, San—”

“Silence,” San muttered. It wasn’t even loud. In fact, he said it so flatly that it was almost astounding. “I’m thinking.”

You tried to swallow down the uncomfortable knot forming in your throat. You had no idea what he was thinking about, or why it took so long, or what he saw when he looked at you. But eventually, after one final, unreadable sweep of his eyes over you, San spoke.

“Once you stay here,” he said. “You can never leave. Literally. The snow will prevent you. Are you sure you want to surrender yourself to me?”

To me. The way he said it made your pulse spike. He wasn’t threatening you, by all means - in fact, it even sounds like he was giving you a way out. He simply stated it as an inevitable truth, as if stepping into his world meant stepping into his possession by default. You were about to belong to him, body and soul, and something about that made your insides feel hot and heavy.

“Does this mean I’ll never see what lies outside this kingdom anymore?” You asked, throat dry.

San’s eyes clouded with the first emotion you’ve seen in him ever since meeting him - hesitance, and dare you say, perhaps a little of hope somewhere in there. But, it only lasted for a second before his eyes flashed back to that indifference. 

“You won’t survive it,” he said plainly, turning his head a little to stare at the never-ending snow that fell from the darkening sky. “No one does, and believe me, people have tried.”

Your chest tightened at the insinuation. The people have tried to flee and fail. Still, you have made up your mind. “I am willing.”

He leaned back on his seat, face unreadable, before settling into that stance where he was staring at you again. And after a terrifying heartbeat, he nods stiffly. “Very well,” was he all said before you were dismissed.

And true to his words, you were welcomed. Quite warmly, if you may say so, compared to the harsh winters that the kingdom enveloped you in. You were treated fairly like you belonged here, just as Yunho had said, given your own chambers and even your own personal attendant, Jung Wooyoung - a male since unfortunately, not one family wanted to send their daughters to even work in the palace, but that's alright for you. You loved Wooyoung, and he loved you.

You were even assigned a personal guard, Kim Hongjoong, a valiant man who had sworn his life serving you. A good man, a genuinely good one. A feast was held in your name, of the woman who had finally agreed to marry into the frozen kingdom. The chef, Kang Yeosang, personally made sure to serve your favourite dishes, which you appreciated. 

Indeed, you were treated like a future queen. Or the woman destined to be cursed with the one and only Choi San.

He was a king with a crown of gnarled bones. The irony of it all lay in what everybody believed in, because we don’t see things as they are; we see them as we are. San wore a crown, but he was no king in his people’s eyes.

Except for his closest confidants and the ones who lived in the palace, the people who saw San saw differently. They followed but you can see the fear in their eyes. They have been so conditioned to believe that the reason the snow never stopped and why they can never leave was because of their own king, and that’s what they choose to see.

And as for San, you barely saw him, never really spending time with him other than talking about diplomacy and Utopia’s upcoming legitimacy as a kingdom. There were no gentle introductions and no attempts at familiarity with one another.

San never sought you out for anything beyond what was politically required. Every meeting he held with you was purposeful, efficient, and centered only on matters of state, and every time he did talk, he never really did look you in the eye, voice always teetering on that formal and clipped tone as if you were nothing more than an ally - which in hindsight, you were.

“You may do the wedding planning in whatever way you wish, including the theme if that pleases you,” San explained one afternoon, hands clasped behind his back as he stood near a window. “I do not expect you to be the perfect queen right on the get go, and that is fine.”

He stated it like a transaction, not a life-altering commitment. “Yes, Your Highness,” you mumbled, discomfort crawling under your skin at how stiff this entire exchange was.

Another time, he spoke to you about Utopia’s fragile diplomatic standing. “You will help stabilize the kingdom by simply existing by my side,” he said without malice, just pointedly, eyes on political letters he’s yet to send. He slides one to you, handing you a quill. “Sign this.”

You swallowed, grabbing the quill from his hand, freezing right after. Usually, he’d go back to whatever he was doing after making you do something politically inclined. That and he always kept you at a careful and deliberate distance every time, anyway. 

However, this time, you took such a long time doing what he told you to do that he paused, gazing up at you with those sharp eyes. “Is there something the matter?” He asked, tone courteous and polite, but hollow and impersonal. “Something not to your liking?”

You avoided eye contact, not out of fear, but of shame, cheeks reddening against your will. “That’s not it, Your Majesty,” you mumbled, embarrassed. “I-I’m afraid I’ve forgotten how to write. I never had the opportunity to practice. My parents needed help with our farm back then.”

There was something so incredibly embarrassing and belittling about admitting your illiteracy in general, let alone in front of somebody as articulate and well-spoken as San. You sighed, rolling on your bed, the shame still fresh in your memory. It was a stark reminder of who you really were before Yunho found you in that alleyway - a peasant who struck gold.

San did not respond at first, only staring at you, arms crossing over his chest, shoulders sinking back into his chair. Then, he turns his head slightly to his left, to Jongho who you forgot was with you back then. “Call Mingi,” he instructed flatly. “Effective immediately.”

Jongho comes back with another man in tow, someone you’ve seen with San once in a while during his meetings. San gestured vaguely in your direction. “I have a task for you,” he said. “Teach her basic literacy, and teach her well. Include the laws of the land if you must and other foundational studies.”

It was said so bluntly that you felt heat rush up your neck. But it wasn’t his tone that bothered you the most, it was the way he spoke as if you weren’t even in the room, as though you weren’t standing right there. Then he added, “A queen must at least be able to sign her own name.”

You gritted your teeth, reaching over to touch the winter heathers on your nightstand gently to forget how San made that sound so harsh. “You are dismissed,” he ordered, flicking his fingers at you, already turning back to his documents, already forgetting the sting he didn’t even know he imparted at you.

You followed Mingi out into the hall, quiet and a little stiff. “Don’t take it to heart, my lady,” he murmured with sympathy as he guided you down the corridor. “His Majesty has a way with words that makes everything sound harsher than they actually are.”

You let out a breathy, embarrassed laugh. “I noticed.”

“He doesn’t mean anything by it,” Mingi continued gently. “He simply didn’t know how to soften his words…especially around you. That doesn’t mean he sees you as lesser.”

That, you believed in. You still do. You didn’t take it personally then, and you still didn’t take it personally now. You couldn’t because he was right - this was simply how San was. However, one thing he never did, no matter how standoffish he was, was belittle you. San was the type of man who matched your pace but kept a respectful gap, enough that your sleeves never brushed whenever you walked beside him, always keeping you at arm’s length.

There were times where Yunho would try to leave you alone with him to build rapport, but San would just squint his eyes as if he had just been told something so insulting. “Unnecessary,” he would dismiss with a cold edge that cut deep. “No need to deceive ourselves into thinking this union would be more than anything but political. I have better things to do.”

He was brash, that much was true.  And yet, despite all that, he never treated you poorly. He never raised his voice, never belittled your inexperience or mocked your illiteracy and never crossed any boundary you hadn’t explicitly offered.

None of this was meant to be romantic, and you reminded yourself of that often. Still, there were moments where his distance stung in ways you hadn’t prepared for. As cold as the kingdom was, there was something even colder about being wanted only for what you could fix.

You sighed, blowing out the candles plunging the room into darkness, the soft scent of winter heather relaxing your senses as you sank deeper into the pillows, your thoughts drifting away as your eyes started to slowly close.

You tried your best to fit in, but sometimes, it was hard to offer warmth to a man who was determined to stay frozen.

You supposed that Wooyoung mentioned that tomorrow was going to be a long day, because he was absolutely right in that regard.

You had made up your mind to stay and read in your chambers all day, but imagine your surprise when Jongho delivered a letter to you, the surprise growing bigger when you realised that San personally wrote it, almost passing out in ultimate shock when you read it and saw that San was inviting you for supper.

There you were, not knowing how to fully react as you sat at the end of the long table directly across San, who sat on the other end. You’ve never had a meal with San alone. Meals usually composed of you along with other nobles to discuss politics and diplomacy issues regarding the kingdom, but never like this.

You cleared your throat. “Your Majesty.”

His gaze lifted, sharp and immediate, like he had been waiting for you to speak all along. “Yes?”

You faltered, already shrinking under the weight of his gaze on you. “I would like to thank you for your generosity,” you said, sounding small in the vast dining hall. “I wasn’t expecting a summon, is all.”

San set down his silverware. He didn’t seem offended, it was more like he was choosing what not to say. “Should I assume,” he began, tone neutral, yet biting. “That a simple supper with me is too much to ask of you?”

Visible shock fills your features, your eyes widening slightly before controlling them just like Wooyoung and Mingi had taught you. “That is not what I mean, Your Grace,” you tried to explain, but he didn’t relent.

“We are to be bound together soon,” he huffed, not softening a bit. “I would like to reduce the unfamiliarity at least even though this is nothing out of necessity. Nothing more.”

Your chest tightened at the bluntness, at the clinical way he spoke his words. Everyone’s words suddenly echoed in your head - that San never intended cruelty, that he simply spoke sharply naturally, but sometimes, it was difficult to grasp. It was difficult to not let the words sting you.

A sigh left your lips, picking up your fork to resume eating. But before you could do so, you saw him pick up a plate that was in front of him, and with a flick of his wrist that was far too sharp to be gentle, pushed it towards you. It stopped directly in front of you and all you could do was stare at it confused before you lifted your gaze towards him.

“Well?” San raised a brow as if daring you to waste his time by not moving. “The food isn’t going to serve itself. Eat.”

You stiffened. The sentence sounded harsh, unnecessarily so, and it was so him. But then, so quietly you almost missed it, you heard him mumble under his breath, “The fish is still warm. I am sure it will please you.”

He didn’t look at you after saying it. He simply resumed eating while all you could do was stare at him, not knowing exactly what to feel. Hesitant, you took a piece of the fish, not expecting much, but the moment it touched your tongue, your breath stilled.

Because it was perfect. You didn’t mean it was perfectly seasoned or cooked, but because it was cooked and tasted exactly the way it was made back in your village before disaster struck. You never thought you’d ever experience this again and you didn’t know what to make of it.

A strange, aching warmth bloomed in your chest, so vivid you almost forgot where you were and who you were with. “How? This is…” you trailed off before you could stop yourself. Home, your mind automatically supplied, this tasted like home.

You gazed back at him, heart leaping when you saw he was already staring at you. His lips were pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed as if you were bothering him by asking. “Jongho had mentioned once that your village had plenty of fish,” he stated flatly. 

You lowered your gaze to the plate again, heart thudding. “It’s very thoughtful of you,” you murmured absentmindedly, confused because you would have never mentioned something that personal to Jongho. You clearly remembered telling Wooyoung, though. 

San scoffed under his breath, his dark eyes sharply lingering a moment longer on you than usual before he started eating again, effectively ending the conversation, leaving you wondering if he was uncomfortable rather than indifferent about the whole marriage aspect between you.

Nothing eventful happened the entire supper. There was no warmth, but there wasn’t any coldness either, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it did feel a little too hollow for your liking. The only thing in the air was the clinking of utensils and their scraping every time they hit the plate.

Dinner ended quietly just like you expected it to. “Thank you for the meal, Your Grace,” you stood, bowing your head politely at him. “I will be taking my leave now. I bid you good night. ”

You were about to make your way towards the door, careful not to step on your heavy lace-lined dress, when San’s voice rang through the hall. “Wait.”

You froze, not expecting it. The command cut cleanly through the room, it wasn’t loud nor urgent, but it sounded firm and absolute that your body halted by itself before your mind could catch up. You looked back at him, startled at the sudden call.

San hadn’t moved far; he stood with one hand resting on the back of his chair, posture regal even in stillness. His chin lifted imperceptibly toward the center of the table. “Take those,” he said.

You blinked, confused. He sighed, brows furrowing as he moved his hand this time to gesture towards the table again, perhaps irritated at the aspect of having to repeat himself. “The flowers,” he insisted, annoyed. “Take them. The arrangement, take all of them.”

You slowly turned your head, your eyes training to what he was pointing out. You raised your brows in mild surprise. Lenten roses. You didn’t even notice them earlier, too focused on San and the fish you ate with all delight. 

“They will wilt if they are left here, and they would have been plucked out for nothing,” he spoke bluntly with that clinical precision you’ve come to know him for as if everything was nothing but a trivial matter. “If you appreciate them, take them. Otherwise they serve no purpose.”

You walked back to the table, trying not to flinch at San watching your every movement. You couldn’t help the warmth blooming in your chest as your fingers lightly touched the edge of each petal. You’ve always loved flowers, especially here where everything was white and barren. The flowers brought colour and joy.

You lifted the vase carefully, gathering the flowers in your arms. “T-Thank you, I will take care of them,” you whispered quietly, not knowing what else to say.

San didn’t reply. He only gestured one curt nod, already returning his gaze to the falling snow outside the window. There was something in his eyes then, something you couldn’t fully gauge, but before you could think about it, he was already walking away, closing the door behind him, leaving you to think about what you thought you heard him whisper before he left.

“I am sure you will.”

You left the dining hall with the lenten roses cradled gently against your chest, their subtle fragrance following you down the corridor, smiling to yourself, careful not to tug on the petals as they brushed against the material of your dress.

It was how Hongjoong saw you, the gallant knight beaming as he approached you. “My, what seems to make my lady smile like this?” His eyes looked at the flowers in your hands, eyes twinkling with understanding. “Those are beautiful. May I hold them for you while I escort you to your chambers?”

You smiled wider, appreciating the kind words. Hongjoong was one of the first people you met when you settled in Utopia. He was gentle, reliable, fiercely protective, and you found yourself being attached to him quickly. “How was supper with His Majesty?” He asked.

“It was good, thank you,” you answered truthfully. “A little stiff, and he’s…well, he’s him.”

Hongjoong nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean,” he exhaled, pausing a little in thought before he continued. “My Majesty…he’s carrying a lot. I would lay my life on the line for him. I know it’s hard to believe, my lady, but I can assure you he means well. He’s a good man.”

“It’s quite alright, Sir Hongjoong, I understand,” you said, pursing your lips. “I am here for one purpose only and I will fulfill it. What Your Majesty and I have is nothing short of political. He’s very decent to me so far, and I suppose he’s not required to go beyond that decency.”

But as you put the roses on your nightstand, replacing the winter heathers that have started to wilt, sometimes, you couldn’t help but imagine a different scenario; one where San’s eyes weren’t shrouded in frost, one where he might be that warmth in the midst of the snowstorm.

The thought of it made the tips of your ears red, heat spreading through your cheeks down to your neck. Snap out of it, you thought. The king was good-looking, devastatingly so, and admittedly, had the situation been different, he was actually your type. 

Unfortunately, the lenten roses have also started to wilt. You would never admit that you noticed each stage of it, that every morning you checked the vase before you checked the mirror. You wouldn’t admit that it bothered you. Enough time had passed where you noticed that something had changed, both for good and bad reasons.

“I know it might not seem like it because, well, the snow,” Wooyoung chuckled weakly one morning, looking at the window with worry. “But Christmas always seems to bring out the best in people and we tend to celebrate it the best we can. I promise you’ll love it, my lady.”

The snow began to fall harder; harder than you’ve seen it. Christmas time apparently always brought the harshest storms, but it didn’t stop everyone from decorating the entire castle with the familiar hollies and tapestries that brought a little colour and life in the usually grey castle.

“I believe it,” you smiled, hanging some ivy and a couple of ribbons in your chambers, which Jongho had so kindly brought. “Do you…think the king will let me decorate his chambers?”

Both Jongho and Wooyoung froze, looking at each in worry before the latter cleared his throat. “Best to avoid His Highness during this time, my lady,” he said quietly. “His mood is particularly…delicate at this time of the year, especially.”

You raised a brow. Apparently, the storms weren’t the only thing that was harsh during Christmas. “What? Why? Does he not like Christmas?”

“It’s not that. He’s just crankier and unapproachable, that’s all,” Jongho admitted, avoiding eye contact. “Best not to test him, my lady.”

You tried to celebrate with everyone, noticing that everyone seemed to look forward to your presence every time you went around the castle. The servants seemed to be brighter in spirit, more than the usual, their smiles wider, the merry tunes of Christmas filling in the hallways that actually made you forget about your worries. You were actually happy for once.

“It is because Christmas actually gives the people a reason to like the snow,” Mingi patiently explained one day in the middle of your lessons. “And the queen’s presence gives the people strength, a pillar to look up on in the king’s absence.”

You weren’t good with reading and writing yet, but you were getting there. Christmas wasn’t an exception for you to skip out on your studies. Not that you minded, Mingi was a wonderful mentor and you genuinely did enjoy learning from the knowledgeable man.

“May I know the reason why His Majesty is to be avoided during this time?” You asked, holding your quill just like he taught you. “Everyone seems to refuse to talk about it.”

Mingi turns silent. After a while, he gently grabs your quill, handing you a book instead. “Shall we move on to economics, my lady?” He suggested, changing the topic, his eyes silently begging you to let the conversation go.

You faltered, mildly surprised at the blatant avoidance of the topic. You tried, you really did, not to think about San and respect what everyone kept saying, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the elephant in the room. You nodded slowly, taking the book, and that was that.

Of course you’ve noticed that San was nowhere to be seen. The throne room was avoided like it contained the plague, itself. His study was left untouched and even Seonghwa didn’t dare enter it even for more military planning. The servants paled, pretending they had urgent business elsewhere, which always prompted either Yeosang or Jongho to personally deliver his meals.

Nobody was telling you anything. Whether it was because you were an outsider or they were doing it for your protection, you didn’t know. You were left in the middle of it and you couldn’t help but feel something twist deep in your guts.

Because this wasn’t normal avoidance. This was fear. It wasn’t the terrified kind, no, but the quiet, heavy, and trained kind - the kind that people develop after years of knowing exactly what triggers a man, and what doesn’t. And you didn’t know what to feel about it.

And of course, this was when you found yourself thinking of him even more. You asked yourself multiple times what happened to him and what made him dislike Christmas. At first, you thought it was because the snow fell harder on the already cursed, snow-covered land that people blamed on him, but seeing how the people acted, it was more than that.

Sure, San had always been especially cold and distant, his walls high and impenetrable, but he was never cruel and never raised his voice at anyone. He had always been intimidating, but you genuinely didn’t understand why this time was different. 

What could make an entire palace walk on eggshells around their king? Why did everyone act like Christmas turned him into something dangerous? 

Oh, how you wished you knew the answer to this before you started roaming around the castle, hugging your arms to yourself, absentmindedly walking aimlessly with all these thoughts.

Was it the storm that was making San hot-tempered, or was it San’s temper that was bringing on the storm and making it worse?

A heavy gust of wind rattled the castle walls and the frames that were hooked on them, snapping you out of your thoughts immediately. You looked around in worry, realising that you had ventured a bit too far in your absentmindedness.

Your anxiety rose when you also realised that you were near the currently forbidden area  - San’s chambers. You’ve never even been in this section of the castle before and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now. Panicking, you quickly turned around to leave.

It wasn’t until you heard it, something spine-chilling enough that it made you stop in your tracks not to listen, but out of surprise and horror. You didn’t have to think hard or even turn around to know that the sound was coming from San’s room.

“Fuck. Fuck. M-Make it stop, please…”

Moans and grunts of pure, raw pain were to be heard all over the corridors, the sound of it echoing ghastly around the walls and bouncing in its agony. You paled, caught off guard, not knowing exactly how to react at what you were hearing.

You jumped up when a loud crash followed by a deep, menacing growl on top of pitiful whimpers resounded after. It was horrifying to listen to. You couldn’t help but put your trembling hands on your mouth, eyes widening at the prospect of San hurt, or worse, someone hurting him in the privacy of his own chambers. He sounded like he was getting tortured.

Panic arose in your head, but even then, you had to force yourself to think. What were you going to do? You had absolutely no idea what was happening behind that door and that, alone, terrified you.

Not the sounds, but the idea of it. What could bring a man like San - the controlled and measured king you knew, the one with walls so high, you couldn’t see through it, the man who barely blinked at his adversaries - down to something feral and desperate? 

Do you run? Do you get Jongho? Seonghwa? Yunho? Anyone who knows what to do? And you were going to do exactly that. You pulled your skirts up, ready to sprint for help, but once again, you heard a noise. Something about the primal emotions in his tone tugged at your heartstrings. He was choking, the sound of it wet, low, and trembling.

But most of all, he sounded alone. He sounded terrified. You couldn’t leave him. Not like this. So against your better judgment, against every warning, against everybody who swore you shouldn’t even think about approaching San, and against the fear stuck in your throat, you moved towards his door, your hand already pushing it open. 

Nothing could ever prepare you for the destruction that lay all over the room the moment you entered. Everything was in shambles and disarray. Your heart almost wanted to leap out of your chest as you inspected the room, trying to look for the reason why you were even here.

You didn’t see San. But you could hear him. You tried to follow his pained grunts, your feet moving to what you assumed was the bathroom, your insides turning upside down when you realised that he wasn’t just groaning - he was wretching his guts out. 

The closer you got, the more distinct the awful, guttural noises became. Your fingertips brushed the doorframe, almost whispering to announce your presence so as to not startle him, but you stopped halfway when you dared to look inside.

San was on his knees, trembling and bracing himself on one arm, his head lurched forward as he gurgled out the contents of his stomach, or the lack thereof. Your heart squeezed painfully seeing the great, cold king of Utopia reduced to such a state.

His usually prim appearance was nowhere to be seen, his hair disheveled and sticking to his skin, damp with sweat, his shirt open to reveal his sculpted chest that convulsed violently as he heaved and coughed so hard that you thought that something inside him was about to break. His other hand clutched the locket he always wore so tight, veins started to pop from his arm.

But that wasn’t the thing that bothered you as much as it worried you. It was his eyes. They were wild, red, and bloodshot like he hadn’t slept in days - like he hadn’t been himself in days. Your heart cracked, not being able to stop the whimper that crawled up your throat.

His neck snapped up in your direction so quickly, you were terrified for a second, and he froze, eyes widening at the sight of you trembling uselessly by the doorway. For a split second, you saw something in those eyes other than coldness. You were the last person he expected to see.

And he tried to say something to you. You saw his lips part and you saw him process that you were here, in a place you absolutely shouldn’t be, but before he could do so, his body seized again, bending forward brutally to clutch his chest, shoulders curling inward against the pain.

You watched him stand up, feebly supporting himself by gripping the edge of the sink as his quivering legs tried to support his weight. He stared at you with those hazy eyes, almost glaring, using the back of his hands to wipe his mouth. “What are you doing here?” He snarled. “Where’s Hongjoong?”

Your body seemed to snap into action, step forward to try and help him. “Your Majesty—”

He slaps your hand away, but it was more of a poor attempt at it, limping past you with great effort. “I asked you a question,” he barked, angrier than you’ve ever seen him, slightly making you flinch. “You shouldn’t be here, didn’t anybody in this godforsaken castle tell you?”

He said it with such contempt, looked at you with so much scorn and disdain that you almost ran away with your tail between your legs, but when his trembling intensified, breath stuttering like his lungs couldn’t remember how to breathe, you made the split decision to surge forward, anyway, gripping his arm to help him walk.

“You’re not well, Your Grace,” you whispered, almost pleading. “Please, let me help.”

A small gasp leaves your lips as your hands wrapped around his bicep. He was warm, warmer than you expected, like sitting in front of a hearth to seek comfort. And he paused, staring at you. Truly staring with something unreadable in his eyes before he shoved you, or tried to.

“Don’t,” he tried to shove you again, his palm weakly trying to rip your hands away from him. His breath hitched, body swaying dangerously to the side before he leaned on the doorframe, eyes boring onto you sharply. “Leave,” he growled, jaw clenched, rage evident in his tone. “Just leave. You’re useless to me.”

It stung that even in his state, he was still pushing you away. You didn’t understand what was happening, and you had a feeling that you still won’t anytime soon, but when he started to stagger forward, you lunged forward to try and catch him before he hit his head on instinct. You didn’t need to know for now. San needed your help.

“Your Majesty, I’m begging you,” you pleaded desperately, pushing up on him and pulling him slightly to help him out of the bathroom. “Stop fighting me, please.”

“And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?” His hand fisted weakly in the front of your sleeve, as if to shove you away again. Instead, it simply trembled there, powerless.

You didn’t answer, grunting as you guided him towards his disheveled bed. He relents, albeit begrudgingly, sinking onto the bed, chest heaving, eyes glassy with exhaustion. You immediately get to work, finding something to use to wipe his sweaty skin and grimy face to relieve some of the tension that was troubling him.

The bed sank under your weight, and for a second, you hesitated a bit, but when you saw San breaking out in more sweat, the hesitation left. Gently, you dabbed the damp towel all over his skin. You stared from his temples, smoothing his hair out, wiping the residue off his lips as well, down to his neck, careful not to irritate him with the temperature.

You got all the way down to his chest, finally looking at it up close and being mildly surprised at the dark lines that littered all over it. They were black in colour, resembling tree branches that covered his entire torso. They didn’t look natural. Rather, they looked infected and cursed.

It was when San seemed to realise that you were looking at them. You flinched when he suddenly grabbed a blanket to cover his chest, harshly snatching the towel away from your hands to brutally throw it across the room.

It was a sudden burst of fury that seemed to sap all the remaining energy out of him. “Get out,” he rasped, voice shredded raw. His hand flew to the locket around his neck, one that you always thought was just a trinket or an heirloom. “Yunho,” his voice cracked. The moment he mentioned the mage’s name, the locket glowed brightly, pulsing with unnatural energy that made your skin prickle. “Yunho.”

It was magic. You knew it was. Nothing natural glowed like that. And the lines that were strewn all over San’s skin…those weren’t natural either. But they weren’t the angelic magic Yunho had.

Yunho burst in through the doors not even a minute after, panting and looking like he ran a marathon just to get here. His eyes widened in horror the moment they landed on the way San convulsed and shook under the sheets.

“San? Good Lord, San, what—” he began, eyes dropping into something that resembled agony, pity lining his features at the sight of his king suffering under whatever was happening to him. He was about to rush forward, but immediately halted when he saw you.

His eyes went even wider, horror and disbelief flooding every inch of his face. “Y/N, my lady,” he exhaled in utter shock, not even expecting to even see anybody, much less you of all people, to be sitting on San’s bed. “W-Why are you here?”

San grunted in pain once more, prompting Yunho to rush forward, assessing his king and the damage that he endured. Yunho’s face crumpled. “My lady,” he said over his shoulder without looking at you, tone gentle but firm. “Please. You must leave. Now.”

If there was anyone who knew what to do, it was Yunho. You watched him for a moment, watched his hands hover over the king’s body as they glowed blue, the magic flowing from his veins to transfer them to San.  He was healing him, you reckoned.

“You must not speak of this to anyone, my lady,” Yunho said quietly, looking at you briefly before his eyes glowed into that familiar fiery light you remembered from when you first met. “And I know you have questions, questions I’m afraid I cannot give you right now, but for now…”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You quickly got up, hastily walking towards the door to let Yunho do his work in peace, but before looking back at San for one last time before leaving. He looked a bit better. His face was still ashen and pale, but at least he was now sleeping.

And it hurt. It was the precise way that Yunho knew what to do - it meant that this was a regular occurrence for San. This happened year by year. And you weren’t privy to what he was trying to tell you.

Pretend you didn’t see anything.

Days passed in a daze, long nights where you lay wide awake on your bed where sleep refused to visit you, hours spent where you did exactly the opposite of what Yunho expected of you - to forget what you saw in San’s chambers that day, all of the grizzly parts of it.

It just wasn’t possible. How could you just erase what fear you felt when you saw him on the floor? How could you forget the way his bloodshot eyes looked at you like you were the anomaly for finding him in that pitiful position? The way they widened in disbelief when he saw you just before gagging helplessly again?

And when you weren’t seeing him in your head, you were hearing him amidst the silence of your room. The sound of him vomiting was wet and brutal, the unpleasant hacking and heaving of his stomach as he retched out was all you could hear. You could never forget it.

And the only thing louder than the awful sound was the realization that San had been suffering like this alone.

He was all you could think about, and frankly, you were worried. You couldn’t concentrate on your duties and studies, your mind often flying towards the king you swore your life to, wondering if he was eating, worried if he was still in pain or if he was sleeping well.

A gentle cough startles you out of your stupor and you look up, finding Seonghwa’s gentle eyes trained on you. “My lady? Are you still there?” He asked. “You seem to be…distracted. We could always continue this discussion next time.”

You blinked, shame crossing your features. You were currently with the marshal, who took time off to discuss basic tactics to you as per San’s request for additional knowledge. Redness creeps up your cheeks, embarrassed that you were wasting Seonghwa’s very limited time.

“I am terribly sorry, Sir Seonghwa,” you sincerely apologised, bowing your head slightly. “I must be in a doozy. I’m afraid that my mind is elsewhere.”

He immediately waves his hands in flustered protest. “Please don’t bow to me, my lady. And this might be impudent, but,” he paused, looking around to see if the coast was clear, his voice dropping into a faint whisper. “Would this happen to be about what happened to His Majesty a week prior?”

Your brows raised in surprise. “You know.”

He sighed, deep from within his chest, before getting up to lock the door. He, then, gives a grim nod. “Only those closest to him do,” he admitted, crossing his arms, jaw tightening. “Including Wooyoung. He was His Majesty’s favourite scribe before he was assigned to you.”

You stared at him, having more questions than answers. And he knew this. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I was the one who had to haul Yunho out after he was done healing him,” he explained with another sigh. “It takes a lot out of him, you see. Magic has to come from somewhere, and mages usually use their own energy.”

“Then, what is going on with him?” You pressed, unable to hide the urgency in your voice.

But Seonghwa only exhaled, long and pained, and shook his head. You could see it that he wanted to tell you. His heart was far too gentle, too earnest for secrecy, but the loyalty he bore to San was carved into him more deeply than any oath. “If I were permitted to speak of it, my lady,” he said softly, “I would tell you everything I know. It’s not my place.”

There was one question that was bothering you the most, however. One where you were afraid of the answer. The question left your lips before you could stop it. “Is he sick?”

He shook his head with confidence without a hint of doubt or hesitation. “No,” he refused immediately. “It is not a disease…at least not the type you’re thinking of.”

Your stomach turned, not liking that answer at all. Seonghwa paused, leaning closer, his eyes filled with genuine worry. “You may not be queen yet, but I have already sworn my life to you, my lady, and I am saying this out of pure love and concern for you as your loyal servant. For your sake, do not return to his chambers.”

His voice dropped into something more hushed and it sent shivers prickling down your spine. “No matter what happens, no matter what you hear. Do not go back there.”

The snow started to let up after a few days, if only a little bit. While the kingdom was still covered in a white haze, the storm had subsided enough that everyone could at least walk out, including yourself. 

“How curious,” you pondered while out and about on the castle grounds, hugging the fur-lined coat closer to your body. “I’ve been told that the storm was going to last another week or so. Today is a beautiful day, though, don’t you think so, dear Wooyoung?”

Utopia was a very beautiful kingdom even though the entirety of it was only white. “Yes,” Wooyoung replied, the corners of his lips lifted up tightly with what seemed more like force than mirth. “How curious, indeed.”

His eyes didn’t match the smile. They dropped almost immediately, dimming with a soft, far-off melancholy, his mind clearly somewhere else in thought. By the time you looked fully at him, he had already blinked it away, the tight smile still lingering. “Shall we go to your classes, my lady?”

You nodded, letting him lead the way. Today, you were determined to do well, but the moment you got in the library, you were met with a sight you were not expecting.

Because there was San currently in a deep conversation with Jongho. There were times that Mingi wasn’t available, so Jongho would substitute him more often than not, and once a week or so, San would supervise your progress. Today was supposed to be one of those days.

This was the first time you’ve seen San out and about, both since he’d secluded himself and since that day you accidentally walked by his chambers. You felt your heart going haywire at the sight of him. Both men haven’t noticed your arrival and you took this time to observe your king.

It was almost unfair how striking San looked when he was fully focused on something, especially whenever he held a quill to write something or handle paperwork. The sharp downturn of his brows, the lean line of his jaw, or the way his lips pursed into a small pout.

But it was unjustly unfair for him to still look this handsome even while clearly still recovering. And just like that, any attraction towards him went in the back of your head for now. He was pale, his eyes lined with bags that were purplish and almost black in colour, lips lacking in colour that made you worry. He was rigid, obviously trying to stand a little straighter than usual.

So much so that you were tempted to walk up to him to ask him if he was doing alright, but you knew better. Just then, as if sensing eyes on him, Jongho lifted his head and gave you a soft, pleased smile. “Ah, my lady, just. “My apologies. I didn’t notice you were here.”

San paused for a split second, jaw tightening, before ultimately deciding not to lift his head to greet you in acknowledgement, his attention solely on the paperwork as if you weren’t even in the room. 

The entire lesson went by like that. It was the most awkward session of your life so far because while San didn’t acknowledge you in general, this was different. Usually, he would chip in a thought or two, ask  you random questions that pertained to the subject, but this time, he was silent. You wouldn’t even know he was there if  you didn’t see him earlier.

After half an hour, he got up and left. That in itself wasn’t unusual either, San never stayed the entire lesson anyway, but at least every time he left, he would politely, albeit stiffly, say his goodbyes to you or pass a small comment about you doing well on your studies.

And despite everything - your fear, your confusion, your unanswered questions - you felt your chest tighten. You watched him walk away, your spirits dampening at each step he took. Jongho took notice of this. “Did you want to run after him?” He asked. “He’s…well.”

You shook your head. But it didn’t stop there. Unfortunately, this continued for days. You would see him in his office, in the throne room, just him doing his regular kingsley duties like nothing ever happened, but he never acknowledged you. Not once. He didn’t speak to you nor even looked your way. You were like a ghost at this point, worse than strangers.

He was deliberately ignoring you, you soon realised. San was avoiding you like the plague, and of course, you knew why, but this didn’t stop you from thinking about him anyway. The more the days passed, the paler and more sickly he looked, and you couldn’t help but worry.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to check up on him. It was how you found yourself standing by his chambers again, knocking lightly on the door, whispering your arrival. When nobody answered, you breathed in, pushing the door open and hoping for the best.

Thankfully, there were no retching sounds to be heard. But unfortunately, the sight that met you was worse than you could have imagined.

There was San seated on his bed, shivering and trembling violently, one hand fisting the sheets he used to cover his entire body, while his other hand was pressed against his face, but it did nothing to hide the sight that made your stomach turn and your knees almost buckle down.

Thick streaks of red seeped from his fingers as blood seemed to spill from his nose, staining the smooth expanse of his pale cheeks. His breath came out in sharp, ragged wheezes, teeth clacking against each other to fight the cold tremors that plagued his body, and every breath he took, blood trickled from the corner of his lips, down the sheets.

Globs of red covered the sheets that it was hard to imagine that it was once white. You had never seen anything so grotesque in your life. “S-Sire?” You choked out, barely able to breathe.

He jerked at the sound of your voice. He lifted his head and your hands numbed, because his eyes weren’t just bloodshot - the white parts had entirely become red, like they were tinted with blood. For a moment, he didn’t even recognize you.

But the moment he did, it was like something primal in him came alive. “What the hell are you d-doing here?” He roared, feral, so loudly, you felt your bones rattle. You gasped at the intensity of it, caught off guard. “Get out.”

You closed the door behind you. “Your Maje—”

“Get out! Fucking hell, just get the fuck out!” His voice boomed. It felt like cold water was splashed on you. The expression he held on his face was one of delirium and ferality, and this was the first time you’ve actually heard San lose his temper like this or even raise his voice.

He lurched forward, body spasming, getting up to charge at you, the rage on him impalpable. Blood dripped onto the floor in steady beats from his nose. “I told you to stay the hell away from me,” he snarled, shoulder rising and falling in ragged breaths. “Why must you—”

Everything happened so fast. His arms gave out entirely, body pitching forward. You rushed to catch him before he hit the ground, hands sliding under his shoulders. “Please, you’re hurt and you’re bleeding,” you gasped despite every instinct screaming that you should run. “I can’t—”

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” He lashed out, swinging his arms. You yelped when he accidentally hit your shoulders, making you stagger backwards. “You stupid, stupid girl,” he spat. “Are you deaf or just highly incompetent? How foolish could you be? What part of…” he trailed off, wincing in pain. “What part of leave do you not understand?”

And maybe he was right. Maybe you were stupid. But it didn’t stop you from limping towards him anyway. “Please,” you whispered, hands up in surrender. “I want to help—”

“I said don’t come near me!” He barked, grabbing another nearby vase and throwing it on the floor in sheer anger. “You just never listen, do you? You think barging in here in a place where you’re explicitly forbidden makes you brave? No, it makes you a burden, you reckless—”

He cut himself off with a guttural groan, one hand flying to his throat as if he couldn’t breathe. That was it for you, you weren’t going to just simply watch. You surged forward, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Enough,” you breathed, voice trembling with resolve. “Just…stop.”

His arm jerked up to push you away, but it was no use. “The nerve of you, I am your king—”

You narrowed your eyes, not even letting him finish his nonsense. You grabbed his shoulders and with one pull, you hauled him forward with practiced force. Even through the haze, you saw his eyes widen with surprise, genuinely stunned at the show of strength as you dragged him towards the bed and laid him down whether he liked it or not.

“You are forgetting who I was before all of this,” you murmured calmly, trying to ease him onto the sheets. “I am a farm girl. I grew up carrying heavy sacks of grain and meat, Your Majesty. It was all I knew. You would’ve known how calloused my hands were if you touched them more.”

He wanted to argue, you could tell, but more than that, there was a look in his eyes that made you pause. He looked at your hands, then back at your eyes with a brow raised, and there was something in there. He looked mildly offended. Now, you didn’t want to assume, but if you were being honest, his eyes were clearly telling you he did, in fact, know.

You looked away, turning around to stop the butterflies in your stomach. You worked quickly, grabbing a basin and some towels and putting them on his nightstand and of course, he tried to resist at first, but eventually, the fight in him left and he went still, surrendering to your help simply because he had no strength left to give.

You wiped the blood from his eyes and cheeks, cleaned the streaks along his neck, cool cloth brushing over heated skin and every so often, he twitched or groaned. You urged him to sit up, finding the first shirt you found in his dresser to change his bloodied shirt, careful not to look at the dark lines that marred his chest for fear of him lashing out on you again.

You had to replace the water in the basin three times, spilling the now reddened water over and over again until his skin was free of blood and water no longer stained red. He stared at you the entire time you worked, emotionless, not saying anything.

“Are you comfortable, Your Highness?” You whispered, gently smoothing his damp hair away from his face. 

He hummed hoarsely, nodding subtly, but he didn’t look away. He watched you with those hollow eyes you were used to and usually, it unsettled you, but instead, your stomach fluttered. He was too handsome for someone who had nearly collapsed in your arms. It wasn’t fair. 

Suddenly, he grimaced, seizing as his entire body began to spasm, shivering even though it was pretty warm inside his chambers. You didn’t know what to do, so you didn’t. Instead, you quickly sat on the bed, gently positioning his head on your chest to let him borrow your warmth even though you weren’t sure it was going to help, holding him tight.

He stiffened, but gave up the fight once again once he probably realised how warm you were, how gentle you cradled his feeble body as your hands steadied his head. An uncalled memory striked your head. This reminded you of how your mother would comfort you when you were ill.

Without thinking, as if on instinct, you fingers began to comb his hair, swaying your shoulders to rock him tenderly like your mother used to do to soothe you. “It’s alright,” you hushed, finding the right rhythm to rock his quivering body. “I-I got you…”

You didn't know when the stinging behind your own eyes started, but you continued to rock him, anyway, hoping he didn’t feel the tears that fell from your eyes on his skin, or the way your voice cracked once in a while as you hummed a soft lullaby to accompany the soothing motion. You really didn’t know. All you knew was that it hurt to see him like this.

Eventually, the tremors eased, and finally, San went still, his head growing heavy on your chest as sleep finally caught up to him. His light snores filled your ears as whatever was causing all this loosened its grip on him temporarily to let him rest. 

And you didn’t move, not until you were sure he was truly asleep. You didn’t want to anyway. And in the stillness that followed, your heart tugged painfully. This was the closest you’ve ever been to San and it was unfortunate that it had to be in these circumstances.

You didn’t realise how long you’d been sitting there, lost in your own thoughts, staring at his sleeping face. You were exhausted, your body was also becoming a little weary as the adrenaline came crashing down on you. You needed air.

You shifted, carefully lowering his head on his pillow so you could get up and let him have this rare moment of peace, but before you could get up, you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. Your breath stilled, mouth opening slightly in surprise.

And if that wasn’t enough, he tugged on it, too. It was weak and clumsy, but you felt it, anyway. He didn’t open his eyes, but his brows furrowed. “Stay,” he rasped, barely a whisper, voice rough with sleep, raw with excess use and fatigue.

Your breath came out ragged as you stared at his hand around your wrist, holding onto it as if you were his lifeline. And by God, you felt something then. Your chest fluttered warmly at first, before turning into heat that was too dangerous for your own good. You could barely breathe, it was like he had your heart in his hand, squeezing it slightly instead of your wrist.

You bit your lip, hesitant. Was he even coherent enough to know what he was asking for? You didn’t want to take advantage of it, but the thing was, you couldn’t bear to leave this room knowing that you were going to worry about him the entire night, anyway.

It was when he opened his eyes, barely halfway, but enough where you could see the familiar sharpness in them. “Stay,” he repeated, firmer this time. He wasn’t asking you, he was demanding you.

You nodded, lifting the covers and sitting back down on the bed, and the moment you did, he shifted instinctively towards your warmth, making your heart flip. Not even a minute later, his breathing evened out again and you let these warm, fuzzy feelings lull you to sleep.

But the next morning, all those feelings died. You were startled awake by someone shaking you violently. At first, you didn’t realise where you were, the unfamiliar setting of the room sending your head into a frenzy, but all of it came back to you when you saw San staring at you.

He looked somewhat better - better than you’ve seen him in a while, really. In fact, he was already in his royal attire. And he looked angry. Maybe that’s why his brows were furrowed together, face reddened in a way that only unbridled fury could bring.

You quickly got up, ready to tend to him in case he was still feeling unwell, your eyes automatically checking if there were specks of blood to be found on his shirt, relieved to see that there wasn’t any. “Your Highness,” you began, voice still thick with sleep. “Did you need—”

“Not another word. I don’t want to hear you, and I don’t want to see your face, you hear me?” San spoke with calm, deliberate venom, not giving you a chance to even finish your sentence. “Do you understand me? Or are you perhaps too stupid to?”

You were stunned into silence. His words landed like a slap to your face, each one of them precise and intentional. “P-Pardon?” You couldn’t help but let out, genuinely surprised at how scathing he sounded and it stung worse than anything last night.

He scoffed, tilting his head in mock fashion, a derisive smirk on his face. “You think you’re exceptional now that you’ve stayed here?” He seethed, eyes snapping to you with such lethal coldness, it halted the air in your lungs. “What, you think tending to me makes you important?”

This time, you were actually shocked, hurt filling your chest as you stood up to try and explain yourself. “I don’t know what you’re saying,” you breathed out. “I was just trying to help.”

“Oh, please, spare me,” he scoffed, eyes like cold glass. “You deliberately refused to listen to me when I told you to get out and not come back. You were like a stray animal that refused to get kicked out.”

He enunciated his words clearly, ensuring each word landed exactly where it would do the most damage. And he succeeded. You blinked, hurt prickling your chest. “This isn’t fair,” you said. “I was genuinely worried for your well-being. You know that’s not true.”

“No? Tell me, then. What do you call throwing yourself at me during my weakest moments?” He kept trudging forward and you kept staggering backwards, stopping when your back hit the wall, San effectively trapping you. “Or maybe you were just that desperate, crawling into my bed like some pathetic little thing.”

The words hit like a slap, You knew he was a little cruel in ways he didn’t mean, but this time, it was different. He meant every single thing. Of all the things he did and didn’t do, this was the one that genuinely hurt you the most. You shook your head quickly, eyes stinging, not even knowing what to say to that one.

You could have any other insults any time of the day, but being accused of being a desperate whore will be one you will never, ever accept. You grew up with absolutely nothing, almost gave up your life with less, but the one thing you refused to let go and get trampled upon was your dignity and integrity.

Bile rose from your throat as you tried to breathe through the pain in your chest, the pain so physical that you wanted to fold in on yourself. You looked up, ready to excuse yourself, but when you looked at San, his eyes were wide, mouth open, expression aghast with regret.

You realised, then, that you had already started to cry, hot tears falling in torrential streaks down your eyes, You choked, getting dizzy at the whiplash at the speed of how your mind caught up and it was when an agonised whimper left your throat before you could stop it.

“I-I didn’t mean what I said,” he backed up, raising his hand in an attempt to touch you but stopped himself at the last minute when he realised how deeply he shattered you. “Oh, God, I did not mean any of that, I did not mean to diminish your integrity like this—oh, God.”

But the damage was done. You hadn’t even realized you’d spoken those words aloud. All colour drained from San’s face and he looked so frightened by his mistake that it hurt to look at because he wasn’t even this frightened when he was bleeding out from his eyes and mouth.

“Y/N, stop, don’t cry, don’t, please,” he said, voice suddenly hoarse, almost breaking. “I didn’t mean those, I swear to you. Listen to me, I am so—”

You flinched at the sound of his voice, and that alone made him visibly flinch in return. You shook your head again, because you couldn’t hear this. Not right now. Not when his words were still ringing in your ears like a fresh wound.

You were determined to get away, but he held onto your wrist. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, raw and guilty. You tried to free yourself, but he held on. “Y/N, please,” he swallowed. “I won’t keep you, but let me call someone to send you back. You can’t…just wait, please.”

He held onto the same locket on his neck, the heirloom glowing slightly as San whispered to it, his hand never letting go of your wrist, not even when Hongjoong came in, eyes widening in concern at the scene he witnessed.

San’s hand finally loosened around your wrist, fingers trembling as they slipped away from your skin. “Take her,” he ordered the knight. “Use the hidden passage and let Wooyoung tend to her.”

He didn’t look at you as Hongjoong led you out. He couldn’t. His eyes were glued to the floor as if it physically pained him to lift them and you didn’t look back as you walked out of the room he had shattered you in, letting the door close between you like a final, heavy blow.

To say that you were still upset until the next day would be an understatement. Because how dare he? How dare he just say those words like he had every right to? Oh, you were mad. And it wasn’t even because you were looking for any sort of thanks for what you did; it wasn’t your fault you were worried about him. 

You touched your chest as you brooded in front of your vanity mirror. It was, however, your fault for feeling something there. Something you didn’t want to think about when he held your wrist and told you to stay.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thought, just in time to hear gentle knocking on your door. You sighed, pursing your lips, turning around to see a sheepish looking Wooyoung standing by the door, his hands behind his back. “I told you I did not want to be disturbed today,” you said.

“I know, my lady, but it is of utmost importance that I am here,” he replied, eyes twinkling. “I have something for you.”

Your frown turned into pleasant surprise when he finally brought his hands in front of him, a smile spreading across your face when you saw what he held. In his hands was the most gorgeous bouquet of purple hyacinths wrapped together with a thin strip of ribbon and lace.

“Oh, how lovely,” you gasped, excitedly taking them from him, bringing them closer to you and breathing them in. “They’re particularly difficult to find around, how did you acquire them?”

“I didn’t. They’re not from me. His Majesty had them curated especially for you, my lady,” Wooyoung replied softly. 

Your fingers stilled around the stems of the hyacinths, the smile on your lips faltering, your expression of joy slowly being replaced to that of visible shock. “What?” You murmured before you could stop yourself. “He did? Are you sure?”

“Yes, my lady. He personally gave them to me for you. He even instructed me to arrange them properly,” he said, his expression softening, all traces of mischief gone. “He would’ve come personally, but didn’t think you would want to see him. Not after yesterday.”

Just when you thought that San couldn’t send your mind into shambles even further. Your mind spun, refusing to comprehend that the cold king of Utopia would even do something like this. You brought the flowers to your chest without realizing it, pressing them lightly against your heart as if to steady it.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I’ll put them in the vase, myself.”

Wooyoung exhaled, releasing a breath you didn’t even realise he was holding. When he turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. It was relief, tinged with sadness.

As you put the delicate flowers in the vase, it was hard to miss how carefully they were picked just for you. Each petal was perfect, free from bruising or any kind of marring. But more than that, why had he sent them anyway?

You had a vague idea. Behind all the walls he was putting up, was proof that San was actually capable of feeling regret. Somehow, that just hurt as much as the words he said because he knew what he said was wrong, yet, he chose to hurt you at the moment.

You reached out and brushed your fingers against the petals of the hyacinths. You weren’t completely ready to forgive him, but for the first time since yesterday, your anger wavered.

The next day, you woke up with a brand new bouquet that was even bigger than the one the day before. This time, they were forget-me-nots, which was fascinating to see in a bunch considering how tiny they were. 

“Again?” You murmured, fingers hovering before gently touching one bloom. Wooyoung can only shrug, turning around before you see him smile.

San must be more remorseful than I thought, you pondered. You put them with the hyacinths, the anger in your chest still not subsiding, but simmering at least. And you thought that was that, but no, the flowers did not stop there, because San kept sending flowers for one week straight.

By the third day, they were white tulips. You stared at the pure and pristine blossoms, biting your lips, no longer just surprised, because there was something else accompanying it that made your chest oddly tight. You were flustered, and not just that, you couldn’t help the heat on your face that stayed for what felt like hours after receiving the brand new bouquet.

And you wanted to stay angry, you really did, because no matter how many flowers he sends, the words he said can never be undone anymore, but how were you supposed to do that when he sends avalanche lilies the fourth day so plenty, they spilled all over the place? The other flowers haven’t even wilted yet and here you were with new ones.

You stood in the middle of your chambers, struggling to find a place to put the vase that was overflowing with so much of the lilies. You turned around, helpless looking at a smirking Hongjoong who held another vase of the lillies. “I’m running out of places,” you laughed under your breath, equal parts overwhelmed and intimidated by how many flowers there were.

By now, the servants had stopped pretending not to notice. News had spread that the stoic and impassive king had been sending his would-be queen flowers everyday. The giggles and murmurs brought life to the castle and it was ridiculous how all of this had you smiling like you were a teenager all over again.

“These are lovely,” Mingi commented, laughing at the overwhelming amount of flowers in your chambers when he came for your usual classes. “Well, I have a delivery,” he handed you another bouquet, mischief in his eyes. “More to add to this garden of yours, I suppose.”

You felt your face warm up at his teasing remark. “I have no idea what you mean,” you mumbled, feeling your body buzzing with excitement as you took the bouquet of snowdrops from him. You held onto them the entire class and never let them go.

By the sixth day, you were awoken to the calming scent of lavender. You smiled without realizing it, opening your eyes to see Wooyoung and Jongho giggling to each other as they arranged the lavender all over your chambers, not knowing you were already awake - not knowing that you had begun to look forward to each flower that San sent your way.

Then, the seventh day came and this one was delivered a little differently. It had been nighttime by then and you were already starting to feel disheartened since there were no flowers yet, but as you were reading your book, Yeosang came in carrying a tray of food that had you salivating.

Not only that, they were generous heapings of food that you could tell were your favourites, and Seonghwa was hot on his tail carrying a modest but breathtaking bouquet of pink camelias. Yeosang laid all the dishes properly, not-so-subtly wiggling his brows at you playfully.

“His Majesty specifically asked for today’s supper to be special,” Yeosang said, his mouth curving into a knowing smile. “Catered to you, my lady. I hope the fish is to your liking, His Highness said you enjoyed it the last time you had it.”

Seonghwa placed the bouquet on your lap. “Looks scrumptious,” he commented, gesturing to the food. “His Highness was especially pleased when we told him we discovered a river that had trout in them while we were roaming the area. Immediately thought of you, my lady.”

Your throat tightened. You looked at the bouquet, fingers brushing all over the pink petals and they felt tender and more earnest than the other flowers he sent you, somehow more personal than the rest.

And then you stared at the feast for a little while longer when the two men excused themselves, tears threatening to fall from your eyes before you dug in, heart warm and as full as your chambers that were overflowing with flowers. You had to think about it at first, why this particular bouquet seemed to tug at your heartstrings the most more than the other ones.

The simplicity of it made it your favourite, but it wasn’t because of that - it was because all along, it seemed that San had been paying attention to you.

Seven different flowers for seven days straight, and not a single word. You wondered if this was San’s way of speaking when words failed him.

But that wasn’t how you usually handled things. No, you were the confrontational type. The very next day, you made up your mind to seek San, yourself. You didn’t want to let things fester, but the truth was, you wanted to see for yourself if the flowers meant something to him.

You found San in his study where you knew he usually was at this time of the day. You took a deep breath in, that little fear in the back of your head overtaking you, a bit scared that he was going to push you away, and rapped lightly on the door. When no one answered, you opened it slightly, peeking your head in before entering.

San didn’t even notice you, let alone hear your knock, busy with his paperwork. Your heart lurched as you stared at him. He looked better, the colours on his cheeks and lips were back. You cleared your throat to catch his attention.

San looked up, shock flickering briefly across his features before he schooled them back into neutrality. Still, he set his pen aside immediately. “Y/N—my lady,” he whispered breathily, standing up from his chair. “Please, come in. I’d hate for you to not feel welcome,” he paused, a slight frown marring his handsome face. “Where’s Hongjoong?”

“I’m alone,” you do as told, carefully closing the door behind you. “I wanted to thank you,” you said, straight to the point, voice steady despite the way your heart fluttered. “For the flowers.”

For a moment, he said nothing, most likely not expecting you to bring it up. “Were they to your liking?” San asked, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it though his face still retained that sharpness you’ve come to know him for.

You nodded with an affirming hum. “I did,” you replied with genuine sincerity. “They were very beautiful, all of them.”

His gaze dropped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he audibly swallowed. “I’m pleased to hear it,” he replied, low and careful. Gone was the flatness in his tone, replaced by something just a little warmer. “Very pleased.”

“I will be cherishing them, Your Grace,” you smiled softly.

That earned you a look from him that lingered and remained unguarded. His eyes softened in a way that felt almost dangerous, one that had you holding your breath because you have never seen San’s eyes be this expressive not only towards you, but in general. And now that you knew he was capable of doing such a thing, you didn’t know what to do.

You broke eye contact first, not being able to take the intensity of his gaze. “W-Well, I’m afraid I have taken too much of your time,” you cleared your throat, lowering your head to hide the redness of your cheeks. “I shall be taking my leave—”

“Wait,” he stopped you, startling you a bit and apparently even himself. There was a long pause and you could only blink in anticipation. Finally, he exhaled. “About that night,” he began and your breath hitched. He noticed and his eyes glazed but only for a bit before going back to being impassive again. “The words I spoke were cruel, words I should have never said to you.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away, forcing himself to look you in the eye even though this was taking a lot out of him. “And for that, I am very sorry. I hope you can accept my sincerest apologies.”

And when he bowed low, that was all you needed to see. It wasn’t flowery and it wasn’t anything grand. But it was San, a king who was so used to being bowed to instead of the other way around. You felt the weight of his apology settle deeply in your chest.

“Also,” he continued when he stood up straight again. “Thank you for taking care of me the way you did, especially for staying and cleaning me up even though I gave you every reason not to. It was wrong of me to intentionally hurt you after all those.”

“I forgive you,” you reassured him. “Though I was very much hurt, everyone deserves a second chance. You do, too.”

Another silence fell, but this one was different. It was a little awkward because you’ve never really been alone with San without the entire exchange being political, but at least it wasn’t cold or heavy. Rather, you found yourself not minding it much. The silence was comfortable.

When he finally spoke again, his tone had softened further, almost hesitant. “It’s a lovely day outside the castle grounds,” he turns his head towards the windows before training them back on you, eyes fainltly dubious but fairly hopeful. “Would you do me the honours of walking with me and lending me your time, my lady?

You were stunned into silence. The way he asked it, the way his gaze lingered as though he were bracing himself for rejection. Your heart betrayed you before your mind could catch up. “I would love to, my king. ”

There was a very faint curve that tugged at the corners of his lips. It was very subtle, almost invisible but it was there, as he exhaled a soft sigh of relief. Then, he extended his hand, not breaking eye contact, and how can you reject him when he was actually offering and not demanding?

You began to lift your hand, but you stopped midair when you realised that you had no gloves on. San remained quiet, though you can see it on his face as realisation dawned. Your hands weren’t soft and dainty, all traces of femininity gone from all the years of farming.

“May I?” he asked gently, his voice lowered as though the moment itself deserved reverence.

At your nod, he gingerly reaches for your hand, his touch warm and surprisingly comforting at the lightest of contact. He hummed under his breath, stealing yours when he brushed his thumbs over the thick callouses of your skin and something burst inside your ribs.

“You have beautiful hands that have been through a lot,” he murmured. “You should be very proud of them. As I am.”

Your heart swelled painfully, emotion rushing in far too fast when he stilled his thumb, pressing them on your skin and that’s when you felt it - his own scars. Callouses met callouses, strength met strength, and instead of shame, you felt seen. He shifted closer and with an ease that felt almost intimate, linked his arm with yours.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you wanted to scream. Your face was as red as a tomato - probably even redder - trying your best not to be too stiff as San adjusted his pace to match yours as you began to walk through the snowy grounds of the castle.

And by God, he was trying his best. San still felt rigid beside you, his steps a little measured and deliberate, but not because of duty, but because of consideration for you. This was the same man who always kept space between you, who never so much as let your sleeves touch during formal walks, and now he was walking with you like you were equals. 

“I know I should have asked this before,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, looking your way, and you just had to blush - one because the way the sun hit the high points of his face made him look ethereal, and two, he was really, really trying and it was endearing. “But how are you liking Utopia? I…know there’s not much here. You can be honest—oh, wait.”

You frowned when he slowed. It was when you noticed that you were about to pass a narrow path, and not only that, the wind also started to pick up, the bite of it hitting your face rather painfully. Without saying anything, he angled himself to shield you from both the wind and the path so your dress wouldn’t be caught in the dirt.

You stared at him in awe, your cheeks warm and your pulse racing for reasons that had nothing to do with trepidation. He gazed at you, shoulders tense as he waited for your answer. “It’s quiet and the snow doesn’t pretend to be king, and I think that’s why I like it. Utopia doesn’t promise warmth. It promises survival, if you’re willing to stay and try.”

San stopped walking, turning fully to you, actually staring at you as if it was the first time he’s actually seeing you. Respect further softened his eyes, awe flickering in them. “I see,” he drawled, throat bobbing when he swallowed. “Yunho was right all along. Thank you.”

You wanted to ask him what that meant, but he continued walking then, aimlessly with no ending point in mind. He asked you more questions, like the books you read or what you did in your free time. He didn’t speak a lot, but when he did, he was very gentle with his words, very regal and proper. You reckoned that this was just how he was in general as a person.

And he listened to everything you said, never interrupting nor dismissing you. The walls were still there, unmistakable and tall, but you could see where he was pressing against them from the inside, trying to make room for you.

“And your lessons?” He asked earnestly. “Are they too difficult? I’m afraid I might have put too much pressure on you.”

“They are,” you admitted. “But nothing I cannot handle—”

“Your Majesty.”

You both turned around, not expecting to see Jongho whose voice cut through the moment. His brows were both slightly raised, eyes pleased as he inspected the both of you and San - walking side by side, arms linked - head nodding in approval, though it is replaced by sheepishness when he realised what he just walked into and interrupted.

San stilled, his eyes narrowing into slits as he stared at his advisor. The tenderness he had didn’t just disappear, it completely snapped out of existence as if the gentle man you were with the entire time was just an illusion. His body snapped into rigidity, face dropping into that impassive and unreadable coldness you were so used to seeing in him.

“Yes?” San gritted his teeth, tone sharp and clipped. It wasn’t apprehension–inducing, rather, the immediate change fascinated you.

“We have a budgetary meeting to be held half an hour from now, Your Highness,” Jongho meekly replied.

San sighed, mumbling quietly under his breath. “Send all the heralds. I shall be there,” he nodded, ever the king he was.

He turned, releasing your hand with visible reluctance. You didn’t think that the change in him could be more startling, but you were wrong. The hardness melted away, eyes warming, voice dropping into something gentle and almost apologetic when he started to speak to you.

“I apologise,” he pursed his lips. “It slipped my mind that I had prior commitments before this.”

You shook your head. “It’s quite alright, Your Highness. You have priorities you can’t ignore.”

“I hope that I may ask for your time again,” he added, and in a drastic turn of events, he lifted your hand to his lips, planting a brief, innocent kiss to it before he let go. “Soon.”

And that’s how he left you, standing still with your heart racing with cheeks so red, it would’ve been enough to melt the snow around you. You realised, then, that Choi San might have been far more dangerous like this compared to when he was much colder.

So maybe you were curious about San. You wanted to know the things he liked, what he did in his free time, and what made him tick. You chalked it up to boredom on your end, however, there was genuinely one thing you wished to know more than anything.

“Oh, hello, Y/N,” Yunho greeted with the warmest of smiles the moment you entered San’s study, lowering his glasses and setting aside the notes he held. “I’m afraid San isn’t here today. He’s currently with Seonghwa to inspect some disturbance up north of the territory.”

Now that you think about it, maybe this was the best case scenario. Yunho was easier to talk to than San, and from what you’ve seen, the two seemed to go way back. Maybe he could answer your questions better.

“You would be correct,” Yunho chuckled, crossing his arms with a smirk. “I’ve been with the Choi clan before San’s grandfather was even born, so you could definitely say we go way back.”

It was your turn to raise your brows. You raised them so high, you wouldn’t be surprised if they reached up your hairline. “First of all, you could read minds,” you blurted out stupidly before you could stop yourself. “And second, you don’t look a day over twenty-five.“

At that, he laughs heartily, his entire body rattling as the melodious sound of his contagious laughter bounced around the study. “So I have been told,” he chortled. “And you caught me at the most opportune time, too. Well, since you’re here, I could try to explain some things to you since there seems to be a lot in your mind.” Yunho reached for a piece of paper, crumpling it into a small ball in his hand. At his touch, it began to glow, and when he opened his hand, tiny silver butterflies fluttered lazily in the air. He smiled when you gasped in awe, then at the flick of his wrist, they disappeared, a light drizzle of glitter left in their wake as proof of temporary life.

“Is this the same power you use to heal San that night?” You asked bravely, not sure if you were even supposed to ask but decided to go for it anyway. 

Yunho hummed, eyes dropping at what you were trying to ask. “Very clever way of prying information out of me, I’ll give you that,” he chuckled. “But yes, you could say that.”

And just like that, the air turned a little more serious. You hesitated for a little bit before asking again. “His Highness…what was that that night?”

Yunho exhaled slowly, the lightness draining from his expression as he turned fully toward you. “You weren’t meant to see that,” he said quietly. “You weren’t meant to be there at all.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeves, bracing yourself. “What you witnessed,” he continued, choosing his words with care. “Is something that predates you, me, even this kingdom as it stands.”

Your heart dropped then and there. Not because of fear, but because you were hoping to hear something else that did not confirm the fact that, indeed, was suffering all this time. “So,” you started, trying to steady your voice. “The rumours about him being cursed...”

“You saw the markings on his chest,” he said instead, eyes steady on yours.

Your breath hitched. He didn’t deny it. “How it began and what caused it,” he continued, turning his head to stare at the light snow falling from the sky through the window. “That is San’s story to tell. What I can tell you is that we’re trying our best to stall it. I would use my powers and San would lend me his energy since it takes a lot out of me to do this.”

Your shoulders slumped before you could stop yourself. “But today…?”

“Just me,” Yunho said gently, and then smiled knowingly. “You look disappointed.”

You flushed instantly. “I-I was just curious.”

“Right,” he drawled, his smirk widening. “Well, a little birdie told me that you two were getting cosy the other day walking around the castle grounds.”

“We are to be married soon,” you defended yourself weakly. “Surely, it’s fairly normal to familiarise with each other before then, don’t you think?”

“Mhhm. And surely, San didn’t have to send you different flowers everyday and make a show about it,” he laughed. “They were quite difficult to find, too. He was so adamant about them.”

You pouted, cheeks burning. “He was being remorseful. I’m sure you’ve heard what happened.”

“Sure, but what about the ones before those?”

You paused, caught off guard. That definitely caught your attention, because unless you were remembering wrong, you were positive you’ve never received anything from San before. And Yunho, it took him a minute, but his eyes widened in genuine surprise when he saw that you had no idea what he was talking about.

“He’s been giving you flowers long before the recent ones, Y/N,” Yunho carefully explained. “Do you not remember? Wooyoung would either arrange them for you or you’d already have them before you woke up. I know because I’d make them and transport them in your chambers.”

The room spun before you. Of course you remember those flowers, they were the only source of happiness and comfort you had for the longest time since they were the only colour you’d see in contrast to the greyness of your surroundings. And to think that San has been sending them to you all along had you dizzy.

“I-I had no idea,” you breathed out. “I genuinely had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Yunho sighed. “But it’s not your fault, he’s not a very showy person, as you can already tell,” he paused, locking eyes with you firmly. “San is a good man, just a little more reserved and closed off especially with what he’s been through. Here, take this.”

He proceeds to pluck a book from the shelf behind him and give it to you. “Read it when you’re alone, but for now, just know that that man you saw that night was not and will never be a representation of who San is as a person.”

You remembered the blood, the tremors, the way his voice had broken despite all that fury. Your throat burned. “I know,” you said. “I just genuinely wanted to help him, that’s all.”

“And he knows that,” he replied softly. “But you have to understand, he hates being seen like that because that’s not him. He has a habit of saying things he doesn’t mean because he’s so used to enduring things alone simply because he’s long forgotten how to ask for help. Like that morning when he made you cry.”

You cringed internally, not wanting to remember the hurtful things he had said, but waiting to see where Yunho was going with this. “There’s no excuse, and he’s already tormented himself for it, but the reason why he was angry…tell me, did you go through a secret passage?”

You raised a brow in mild surprise, nodding in confirmation. “Right. You had basically spent the night with him. Unmarried. He didn’t want the nobles seeing you and shaming you for it.”

You froze, the realisation striking you harder than you expected, but Yunho wasn’t done yet. “Unfortunately, fear can look like cruelty sometimes,” he smiled, forlorn. “You’d be surprised at how soft San actually is if you paid attention. Him assigning Hongjoong to you was probably the biggest telltale sign, Y/N.” You were torn between knowing and not because you were terrified that once you knew, this would forever change the way your heart beat. Still, you looked up anyway, listening. “Hongjoong was Seonghwa’s lieutenant,” Yunho gently explained. “His best fighter. San trusts very few people with his life. By placing Hongjoong at your side, he didn’t just give you protection, he created a hole in his own defenses.”

Suddenly, memories clicked into place with painful clarity. San’s sharp tone whenever Hongjoong wasn’t with you like that one morning when you asked him for tea. Still, you didn’t want to believe it. “I-I don’t understand.”

“He’s not angry when he sees you alone without Hongjoong guarding you. Never was,” he said, gauging your reaction carefully. “He’s worried you’ll get lost. Terrified, even, that you’d lose your way and accidentally find yourself out in the snow and freeze to death.”

Silence followed. You only hoped that Yunho couldn’t hear how your heart betrayed you by beating too loud inside your chest. “Pay attention to him next time, yes? Pay attention to his eyes. He’s got that look in them he doesn’t even know he has when he’s staring at you.”

The moment you got out of there, you quickly ran to your chambers, opening the book that Yunho gave you. At first, you were confused because there was nothing but illustrations of flowers and their names, but when you looked closely, your blood ran cold. This wasn’t just a book - Yunho handed you a floriography book. The study of flowers and their meanings.

You swallowed, knowing exactly what Yunho was trying to tell you without outwardly speaking of it. You turned the pages of the book, racking your head for flowers that San had given you prior to the recent ones. And then you remembered the winter heathers. Your fingers quickly scanned the book, until you found them.

Winter heathers, known to thrive where other plants cannot. Symbolises independence and self-reliance. When given, it is meant to say: Your beauty stands out even in the coldest times.

You almost dropped the book with what you just read, fumbling it clumsily in your hands. You couldn’t believe it, was that how San looked at you even back then? And, then you remembered the lenten roses he made you take that one dinner. 

Lenten roses carry quiet strength, consolation, and comfort with every petal. When given, it is meant to say: Your strength endures even in the deepest winter.

San made them seem like an afterthought back then, something whose potential he did not want to waste. You turned the page with a shaky exhale, desperate to find more meaning in the all flowers he’d given you.

The first one was  the purple hyacinths. You will never forget that one because that was the first of many that he gave you.

Purple hyacinths: I bloom with remorse and I ask for your forgiveness.

A breathy exhale leaves your throat. The flowers were his way of speaking to you when words failed him. Your fingers lingered on the illustration longer than necessary, a dull ache spreading through you before you turned the page again.

Forget-me-nots: I cannot forget the hurt I put onto you.White tulips: I ask for forgiveness and hope we can begin again.

It was unsettling, how the sincere meanings of the flowers were earnestly making their way into your way, inching earnestly in every corner. You were about to turn the pages again when your eyes narrowed at the small text at the bottom.

Oftentimes, different flower combinations convey messages. For example, purple hyacinths, forget-me-nots, and white tulips together mean: I know I hurt you, I haven’t forgotten, I’m sorry.

By now, breathing was lost on you and each page you turned made it difficult to do so. You were so confused because the Choi San you had in mind was someone who viewed you as a person he needed for his kingdom’s legitimacy - someone dispensable and someone he didn’t need to get to know as a person even though you were going to spend your life with him.

Avalanche Lily: I bow in humility for my mistake.

Snowdrop: I hope for a new beginning with you by my side.

Lavender: I can’t stop thinking about you, near or far.

Pink Camellia: I long for you tenderly, and I long to be near you again.

Or so you thought. Now, you didn’t know what to think. You thought you knew who San was. A hollow laugh left your throat because all this time, you had mistaken his walls for apathy. San had never been cold - he’d been soft all along. You just haven’t learned how to read between the lines yet.

You pressed your lips together, but the sting only grew worse, creeping into the corners of your eyes. You blinked once; twice too late. A tear slipped free, landing on the page. You sucked in a shaky breath, hastily wiping at your face with the back of your hand.

You shut the book, setting it aside to do something you’ve never done before - embroidery. That night, you spent the majority of it embroidering San’s initials on a small handkerchief, taking the time to be precise and make it look at least decent considering it was your first time doing it.

You didn’t know what possessed you. All you knew, the more you sewed, your fondness for San kept growing tenfold. By the time you were done, you had probably pricked your fingers a thousand times, but you smiled, proud of what you’ve done, hoping he’d see the beauty in what you’ve created, just like he saw the beauty in you when you couldn’t even see it in yourself.

You had been contemplating on how you were going to give San the handkerchief that you embroidered. The adrenaline had worn off then and now the thought of giving it to him had you embarrassed all over, anxious whether giving it to him will be too forward.

But you didn’t have to think too hard. You were about to head out for a walk when a knock on your doors interrupted your plans. “Y-Your Highness,” you breathed out, surprised to see San on the other side. “What brings you here?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer, just staring at you like he couldn’t believe that you actually opened the door for him. His composure was perfect, face emotionless and almost cold, but after that conversation with Yunho, you noticed something immediately - it was the way his gaze flicked away before settling back on you. 

You wanted to melt into a puddle of endearment then and there especially with how red the tips of his ears were. Oh my goodness, you thought with quiet astonishment. He’s shy. He’s so shy and he’s trying to make himself look like he’s not.

“I was wondering,” he cleared his throat. “Hoping, if I can ask you for your time again? I would like it if you joined me for tea.”

Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. For a moment, you hesitated, your mind reminding you of that one time you tried to invite him for tea and coldly rejected you. But this time, as you stared at his hopeful face, you couldn’t help the butterflies in your tummy. He was trying, he really was, and you could feel it. “Lead the way, Your Grace,” you smiled before you could second guess yourself.

You felt the butterflies multiply when you linked arms with him again as he led you through the halls to one of the smaller dining rooms, opening the door for you before you could reach for them, stopping shortly by the door in awe at what you saw.

The table was beautifully set, but what caught your attention was the large array of tea laid out in neat rows. You looked at him, brows lifting in quiet disbelief.

San cleared his throat, gaze immediately dropping to the floor as if it held something fascinating. “I wasn’t sure which you preferred,” he said, straightening his back in an attempt to save face even though the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrayed him. “So I asked for all of them.”

You had to purse your lips together tightly in order to not laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. “I see,” you chose to say, pulling the chair so you could sit down. “Thank you, Your High—”

“No, wait, allow me,” he stopped you, gently prying your hand away from the chair so he could pull it for you to sit down. Your cheeks were redder than his by this point. “San.”

“P-Pardon?”

He sat across you. “Please, call me San,” he repeated, eyes soft, tone warm. "This might be too much to ask, but will you please do me the honours of letting me hear my name from you?"

He was right - it was too much to ask because you didn’t know how to say his name without giving your true feelings away. But his gaze never wavered and he waited patiently like he’d wait forever to hear it from you without demanding it.

“San,” you said at last, softly, as though speaking it too loudly might break something fragile between you.

The effect was immediate. He tilted his head as he stared at you, face still that same cold, indifferent king that had people trembling with fear at the mere sight of it, but his eyes told a different story. They twinkled, bright and sincere with genuine contentment.

You broke eye contact, afraid you might explode on the spot with how hot you felt, reaching for a random tea blend without even looking to give your hands something to do to distract yourself. You were about to lift the teapot when you felt San’s hand lightly stop you.

“Let me do it,” he offered, grabbing the pot to serve the both of you. Your eyes widened, aghast at what you were witnessing. He was the king, for God’s sake. You were about to protest when he shook his head. “I insist. Please, I want to do this for you.”

“You truly didn’t need to do all this,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

“I want to,” San replied simply. “If it brings you even a moment of comfort, then it was worth it to me.”

As if that wasn’t enough, you watched as he put a small dollop of honey in the tea instead of the usual sugar cube. You wanted to cry. Yunho was right all along, San did pay attention more than you thought because you did prefer honey in your tea over sugar. He slid the cup towards you with both hands, watching as you took a sip.

“Is it good?” He asked expectantly. “I hope it’s warm enough and not too sweet.”

You smiled, taking another sip, not missing the way his eyes shone. “It’s perfect.”

The conversation naturally flowed from there, especially now that you knew a little more about San. Whenever he noticed that your plate was almost empty or you were almost done with your cup, he would take it upon himself to refill them for you, all without looking away from you as you talked.

And he listened, truly listened to everything you said as if the words you uttered were the gospel, itself. He was empathetic, too, eyes dropping into something somber when you mentioned the plague that took your parents from you, transforming into respect when you told him how you endured alone before settling your way into Utopia.

“I used to enjoy tea with my parents,” you said absentmindedly. “Do you enjoy tea?”

He stared at you, opting not to reply, but the fondness in his eyes was unmistakably there. He didn’t say much, but when he did, it’s like his true goal in life was to leave you breathless. You suddenly remembered what you had in your hand the entire time. Your finger tightened around the handkerchief anxiously. “San,” you murmured. “I have something for you.”

His brows knit together as you placed the folded handkerchief into his palm. He unfolded it slowly, eyes scanning his initials, tracing them as if they were sacred. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth when he touched the tiny detail you sewed next to it.

He narrowed his eyes to inspect what it was, and when he did, he looked up, eyes wide. Not exactly startled, but in disbelief yet soft and warm in a way you’ve never seen before. “An edelweiss flower,” he murmured. “Do you know what it means?”

You nodded, a serene smile gracing your face. Of course you knew what an edelweiss meant. You had spent countless hours looking for a flower whose meaning you wanted to convey; spent an exorbitant amount of time studying it so you could embroider it neatly onto the cloth.

My feelings match yours and I will brave the cold with you.

For a while, he did nothing, staring at the handkerchief with unreadable eyes, hands tightening around it once or twice as his mind traveled elsewhere. But then, he smiled fully and openly, unable to stop himself. That was probably the moment the world stopped for you, because that smile…you will never forget it for as long as Utopia stood on its grounds.

Without a word, he reached across the table and took your hand, warm and sure, his thumb brushing over your knuckles like it belonged there. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to, as a genuine, helpless smile reached his eyes.

You didn’t need to say anything either as your fingers laced with his. You’ve already told him everything you needed to as the both of you sat quietly in the room, letting the tea grow cold, the snow falling gently outside bearing witness upon you two.

Things went back to normal after that, but at the same time, some things have definitely changed between you and San especially after that afternoon tea session.

For one, you had tea with him at least three times a week, most of it because he would literally clear his schedule out just to make time for you. Secondly, and probably that made your heart beat wildly, the flowers never stopped. San would still send one every single day without fail.

You had no idea how he was acquiring them, especially because he had sent some flowers that you knew could not survive the harsh snow of the kingdom, though Yunho’s exhausted demeanor and tired, sunken eyes should have been an indicator to you.

There were some things whose change was gradual, however. San and you went back to your duties, especially the politically inclined ones. It definitely sent you for a whiplash since you were slowly getting used to the sweetness he’s been showing you lately to the point that you had forgotten how utterly intimidating San was as a king and a ruler.

But the thing that would immediately make you blush that most was when the rare, inopportune moments where he would give you a subtle smile and nod in between those sessions. 

The change definitely wasn’t immediate, but it was there, just like Yunho had said. It wasn’t something you noticed on the get go since San had gotten so busy again that you began to assume that he barely noticed you.

But this time, you actually tried to really pay attention like Yunho said because this time, you started to notice that he actually did watch you. And once you noticed it, you couldn’t unsee it. Which begged the question - had San always been like this and you were just gullible?

The first instance was when you were with Mingi at one of your classes, San supervising in the background as usual as he did his own work, quill in hand, signing document after document. As Mingi lectured away, something tugged at you. And you didn’t mean to do it, but in the soft blur of your peripheral vision, you saw it and your breath hitched.

Because San was already looking at you, quill still in hand. And that was the thing, subconsciously, you knew he had a habit of pausing once in a while, but you didn’t know it was because he was watching you.

And it should have unnerved you, especially because he literally stared at you the entire study. His expression was neutral, yet alert as he literally stared at everything you did with that look in his eyes, and he stared long enough that you felt it all the way down your spine.

The second was when you were with Wooyoung when you were looking at a catalogue of some winter apparel since you needed more. As you were fitting in some of them, you noticed a shadow lingering in the reflection of the mirror. San was silent, literally almost invisible if you weren’t paying attention, which was how he probably got away with it before.

But there he was, arms folded as he stared at the way the coat hung on your shoulders. You tilted your head curiously, looking back at him and making direct eye contact. Strangely, San looked away, pretending that he wasn’t even staring to begin with, eyes drifting to the window to watch the snow outside as if he’s never seen them.

You had to commend the effort. You bit your lip hard, trying not to burst out laughing, but Wooyoung didn’t even bother hiding it, laughing so hard that he had to clutch his stomach and lean against the clothing rack for support. “I never thought I’d see this day come,” he cackled. “Oh, that was a tragedy if I ever saw one, my lady. I’m surprised it took you this long to notice.”

You felt heat rush from your cheeks to your neck. So, apparently, everybody knew San had been fondly watching you from afar all along except for you. “I don’t know what you mean,” you squeaked. “San–uh, His Majesty wasn’t staring. Perhaps, just inspecting what’s proper for me.”

“Of course not,” Wooyoung smirked, eyes dancing. “His Majesty was simply…deeply invested in the structural integrity of winter apparel.”

San cleared his throat softly from where he stood near the window. When he turned back, his expression was back to that menacing and domineering one, even shooting Wooyoung a warning look, yet his ears were unmistakably pink.

“That coat,” he cleared his throat. Before, you would have mistaken it for something that lacked emotion, but now, it was clear that it was restraint. “It fits you. It keeps the wind out.”

You mumbled your thanks and his gaze lingered a second longer than necessary, soft and fond, before he turned away again, pretending very hard that the snow outside was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.

But the most damning thing was when you were in a council meeting, one that was held in the Great Halls along with the other nobles, both comrades and the usual ones who opposed royalty in general.

San sat on the end of the meeting table while you sat on the far end, the regality dripping off of him effortlessly. He looked distant and dangerous, face painted with so much calm. From the outside, he was the very image of intimidation, the untouchable king straight out of everyone’s nightmares. Even the ones who loathed royalty kept their voices measured.

But you knew better. Now you did. Because his eyes were on you, measuring and assessing, and no one suspected a thing. It was subtle enough that anyone else would’ve missed it, but not you. No, never you. You were used to feeling his eyes on you now; craved it at this point, even.

Because how can you not when he held the handkerchief you gave him like it was the only thing that kept him going in this dreaded meeting? Ever since you gave it to him, he never not had it with him. He took it everywhere, displayed it on the breast pocket of his royal garment even if it looked so out of place. 

“Three deaths in three days. Always the lowest. The poorest of the poor, never the blessed,” San’s eyes narrowed, dark and brooding. “What does that tell you?”

One councilman shifted. “That they don’t know how to stretch what they’re given, Your Grace.”

“Wrong,” San said flatly without looking at him. “It tells us that someone is using the food budget for the poor and pocketing them. Shadows don’t stay in the dark forever, gentleman. ”

You watched as his hand held the handkerchief a little too tightly in his hand to rein his anger in. People often mistook his stillness for indifference. In truth, his mind was racing, trying to figure out what his next response was going to be.

Everybody in the room froze, but not you. Even when San looked like he was about to explode, he still had the handkerchief in his hand and he didn’t just hold it - he also adjusted it, smoothing the creases with his thumb. It would have been comical if you weren’t so touched.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he began, hand gesturing at each person, the same hand that held the cloth. “Come nighttime, there will be an internal audit of every noble who even breathed in the fund’s direction. If you are innocent, you have nothing to fear. If you are not…well.”

His mouth curved, humourless, setting the handkerchief on to the side to brace his hands on the table to lean forward. “You are going to learn what it’s like to starve under my watch. Just like the people who you had stolen from.”

The councilman nearest to San, however, thought it was a good thing to try and change the topic. “T-That’s, uh, quite a fine piece,  Your Grace. Unusual for king to keep on hand, though,” he stammered, his hand already reaching for the cloth San had set aside. “May I—”

“Don’t.”

It was just a word and it made everyone’s breath still, including yours. A loud thud resonated around the room when San’s hand deliberately came down over the cloth. San lifted his gaze then, and whatever lived behind his eyes was cold, sheer, ancient anger. 

“If you touch that,” San sneered. “You will discover how merciful starvation is compared to what I’ll do to you.”

The man recoiled, stuttering apologies, and for a fleeting second, San’s eyes met yours. He nodded, a silent reassurance. He folded the handkerchief neatly and tucked it into his coat, close to where his heart would be if he were brave enough to admit that’s why he put it there.

“Meeting adjourned,” he murmured. “Before my patience is tested further.”

No one needed to be told twice. You stood up amidst the rush of the people trying to escape San’s brewing wrath, but as you do, you felt your dress suddenly getting yanked backwards, gasping softly when your balance faltered, Hongjoong barely able to stop you from falling.

A councilman, one of the few who looked down on your modest background as a farm girl, accidentally stepped on your gown. Irritation flashed on his face and without even apologising, he steps aside, causing your shoe to come undone from your foot to slip a few feet away.

Heat flooded your cheeks. Your gasp had caught people’s attention, and by now, everyone’s eyes were on you. Before you or Wooyoung could bend down to retrieve your shoe, San was already there, hand on your waist. You blinked at how fast he was considering you were far.

“Are you alright?” San whispered tenderly as if the room didn’t just witness him almost unleashing his fury earlier. 

More heat crawled up your face, though this time it was for a different reason. “Y-Yes,” you said. “My shoe, I just need to—”

You couldn’t even finish that sentence. San was already kneeling in front of you, your shoe in his hand while the other still steadied you. “San–Your Grace,” you hissed in mortification, panic creeping in instantly. “Please, get up, this is embarrassing. Y-You don’t have to…”

Your sentence died in your throat when San looked up at you, a slight smile on his face, expression soft in a way only you will ever get to witness. “I want to,” he reassured in spite of the way the room silenced at the exchange between you two.

Because the Choi San was on his knees. The King of Utopia was kneeling. Your head spun as you watched him brushed away the imaginary dust on your shoe before guiding it back on your foot, touch gentle and almost reverent like you were worthy of lowering himself for. 

A sharp intake of breath rippled through the room. One scandalised councilman spoke out. “Y-Your Grace,” he stammered, incredulous. “This is unbecoming of you. A-Are you doing what we think you’re doing?”

San raised a brow, turning his head slightly. “Yes,” he replied as he adjusted your shoe,  ensuring it fit comfortably before rising to stand again, arm snaking around your waist and pulling you close. “Does anyone have a problem with that?”

No one answered - no one dared to. You stared at San, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at what he had just done. This wasn’t some sort of show to assert his dominance in court, this was a deliberate message he was sending to everybody who was here to witness it.

You were to be respected. You were to be protected. You were his future queen. You were his future wife and you were utterly his. It was strong, because San’s words were the law and they were absolute. If the nobles defied this unwritten rule, they’ll get what’s coming for them.

Your heart swelled painfully as San glanced back at you, his expression still hard and fearsome, but his eyes, his eyes always told you a different story. You couldn’t help the genuine smile that crossed your face as he led you out, because you were more than alright. 

It wasn’t that you were treated badly to begin with, but ever since that day in the meeting room, you could tell that everybody looked at you differently. It wasn’t anything remarkable and you would have missed it if you weren’t looking up close.

The thing that made it obvious to you was that it didn’t come from the people who already knew you; it came from the nobles that used to oppose you. Every time you passed them, they all had varying looks of respect, uncertainty, and acceptance. There was no in between. It was odd. “Is it wrong that this feels more unsettling than outright disdain?” You chuckled while you were having tea with San again, sipping on the tea he had chosen for you this time.

He hummed, not really replying immediately, but you caught it - the tiny smile he tried not to show when you closed your eyes and sighed in contentment after that sip. “When you’re used to something, the change might be unsettling at first,” he said, words wise yet concise.

“I would suppose so,” you whispered quietly. You knew he heard you considering that he was seated close to you. Now that you think about it, the more tea sessions you have, the closer he keeps sitting towards you. You definitely weren’t complaining.

Tea times with San were the highlight of your day. The both of you didn’t even do much, just basked in each other’s presence, but it was peaceful and it just felt right. San still didn’t talk much, his face still dark and indiscernible, but his eyes lingered on you a little longer, almost fond with adoration.

The air around him wasn’t any lighter, but it was gentler, and they became warmer the moment his eyes would meet yours. He poured the tea himself, adjusted the cup so the handle faced you, nudged a small plate of sweets closer without saying anything. His facade never broke, expression still carved in stone, but his actions always said otherwise.

Every so often, his gaze would drift to the window, where the snow had begun to fall just a little faster than usual. Nothing alarming, just enough to notice. His jaw would tighten once in a while but every single time, he would turn his undivided attention back to you.

The contrast would make your chest ache both with warmth and something you couldn’t name yet because even when the world outside unsettled him, he always turned back to you.

Until he didn’t, and the snow began falling at a rate so alarming, no one even dared to look at the windows for fear that the snow would swallow the entire palace this time. Tea times lessened and San would look more fatigued, more worn down somehow that you actually had started to worry if he was going to get sick.

The thought of him being in that position again where he could barely help himself. You didn’t even want to think about it. Today was one of those days where San had to cancel tea with you and you were left in your room, staring at the snow from your windows falling at a troubling rate.

It was one of those things that unfortunately, you couldn’t do anything about. Such was the curse of Utopia. That is, until you noticed the situation from beyond - the servants getting sick from the cold, worries from other good nobles of commoners passing from severe frostbite, vendors having to pause their livelihood from the severe storm.

You had to do something about it. One good thing that came out of San's fondness of you was that when it came to politics, he actually listened to you, took your points into consideration in what to do even if he’d end up doing something else along the way.

“You are my soon-to-be wife,” he’d say. “My other half and the half of the kingdom’s future, not some ornament hanging beside me. I also reckon two brains are better than one.”

It was how you found yourself being led by Jongho to the meeting room, the same one San defended you from. You were about to enter when Jongho’s arm shot up in front of you in alarm, distress clear on his face.

“W-What’s the matter?” You asked, now worried as well.

Jongho put his finger on his lips, using his other hand to push the door open very, very carefully, and you immediately understood why. Now, you’ve never heard San raise his voice before, but you wish you never did.

“Y-Your Majesty,” one of the few good and brave nobles, stood near San, with a pleading look in his eyes. “It is for the best, look at our kingdom, it’s buried in snow. If we don’t give her—”

“No,” San snarled, both hands slamming against the table with abnormally inhuman strength. The sound echoed violently, nothing like the controlled authority you were used to. “I said no.”

“But, Your Grace, the snow will swallow Utopia whole—” “Heed our request, sire. This is what Lady Y/N is here for—”

“It is for the greater good, one sacrifice for the greater good of the entire kingdom—”

Several nobles spoke at once, but San wasn’t having it. His shoulders were tense, breath heavy, until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough!” He growled, swiping everything on the table down to the floor. “Enough. I do not want to hear it, I refuse to hear any of it.”

Nothing was left untouched in his fury -  scrolls clattered, ink spilled, quills broke. The room went deathly silent. Even Jongho didn’t dare breathe beside you, and you couldn’t even begin to think why you kept being mentioned in the conversation.

“This is non-negotiable, do you hear me?” San snapped, voice raising another octave as he was hunched over the table. “If I see any of you attempt to even touch a hair on her head…if I hear any of you so much as talk about doing it…”

He paused, chest heaving in the severity of his own anger, a deep, unsettling laugh crawling up his chest. “I will end you. I will erase your bloodline. I will kill you.”

The threat, itself, should’ve made you nervous, but something else made your heart pound, instead - San’s entire arm and neck area. Dark, cursed branches of blackened veins creeped from his hands, all the way to his arms and neck area, spread across like a rotten disease. The same ones you saw on his chest one time.

An involuntary gasp leaves you, prompting San to turn his head towards you, and you stopped breathing completely when you saw his eyes. They were dark - literally and figuratively. They were entirely black, no whites left as darkness seemed to swallow both his eyes. And they were now staring at you.

When San realised it was you, however, his anger seemed to vanish instantly. When he blinked, his eyes were back to normal and only the branches on his skin remained. “Y/N,” he exhaled, uttering your name out like it was the only thing he needed to breathe at the moment.

Suddenly, San begins coughing, normally at first before they turn into worrying wheezes that had Yunho, who you didn’t even notice was in the room, swiftly striding across the room to pat him on the back. “San, calm down, please,” he placated. “The snow’s already weakening—”

“Take over,” San cut off, harshly pushing the mage’s hand away, as he made his way straight towards you, gesturing to a rigid Jongho. “Call Seonghwa. The three of you take over me.”

You didn’t protest when he grabbed your hand and led you out of the room. You certainly didn’t protest when he started leading you to his chambers, temporarily letting go of your hand to open a door on the far side of his room to reveal a narrow staircase. And you trusted him.

That trust turned out to be well-deserved when you realised that you were on top of a tower, overlooking the entire kingdom, but that wasn’t what starstruck you - it was the stars above, beautiful twinkles of faraway clusters that overlooked and saw everything.

San didn’t say anything, just leaning over the balcony. All you could do was stare at him - the darkened branches that littered his hands and arms, the unreadable look on his face that was scrunched deep in thought, the way the locket around his neck glowed and pulsated wildly brighter than the stars. You could even feel heat emanate from it from where you stood.

You didn’t realise that you were lost in thought, not until you were enveloped in San’s scent, felt the warmth of fur and wool wrapped around your shoulders as he draped his coat all over your shivering body. “San,” you started, fisting the coat closer. “You’re going to get cold.”

He shook his head, snowflakes falling from his hair as he did so. “I don’t get cold,” he murmured, pointing at the locket. “You were staring at this, it prevents me from feeling chills,” he explained, voice tilting in amusement. You were about to touch it, but he held your hand to stop it, alarm on his face. “Don’t,” he quickly said. “Just…don’t.”

“Why?” You bravely asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he wrapped the locket around his fists and you saw in real time how the curse on his skin started to slowly disappear. You were rendered mum. You had so many questions, so many things you wanted to know, so much information you knew you were missing, and a lot of anxiety over being left behind on a secret you knew you had no right to.

In a blink of an eye, the wind and the snow died. It stopped so suddenly that it gave you a whiplash. It wasn’t normal, you knew it wasn’t, especially when San didn’t even look the least surprised about it. If anything, he looked relieved, like he was expecting it to happen, even.

And then, he coughed, his chest heaving at the force of his cough. Your eyes widened a little when you watched a thin trail of blood slipped from his nose, widening a bit more when San barely reacted, just wiping it with the back of his hand. “S-San,” you whispered.

“I know,” he replied calmly, almost tired. His gaze stayed fixed on the horizon, unbothered by the unnatural stillness around you. “It happens when I push too far.”

Push what?

The question burned on your tongue - the snow, the curse, the locket. You opened your mouth to speak, but he didn’t let you. “Do you think,” he interrupted suddenly, voice low, “That I am doing the right thing?”

You blinked, stunned at the sudden, albeit clever, diversion. “What do you mean, San?”

Your heart broke for him. There was no king to be found in San’s eyes. He was just a man who looked impossibly tired. “This. All of this,” he lifted his hand, gesturing at the entirety of the kingdom. “What if all of this was for naught? That I’m failing my own people with my own bare hands without meaning to?”

“No, you’re not,” you answered quickly. “You can’t do this to yourself, San. You can’t fault yourself for the unpredictable. Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to and that’s alright because that’s out of your hands.”

He turned to look at you then, really looked at you, and scoffed good-naturedly in disbelief, like what he was seeing in you was too good to be true. “I’ve thought of abdicating,” he confessed. “Many times. That, perhaps, Utopia would be better off without me.”

You didn’t say anything right away; you couldn’t, because what could you possibly say to that? “There’s no right answer,” you finally replied. “No one has the right to fault you for doing what you thought was right at the moment. The only thing we can do is hope for the best.”

San’s jaw tightened. “You’re,” he breathed out, stepping closer, snaking his hand around your waist, trembling as if he was trying to stop himself from doing something. “Insane.”

You swallowed, heat traveling on your skin, training your eyes on his locket so you wouldn’t see the way his eyes darkened. “You’re a good king, San,” you said honestly, steadying your voice.

“How so?” San rasped, his voice deepening in timbre, rattling your core.

“Do you remember the first time we met? That day in the throne room?” You asked, trying hard not to waver as you felt yourself being pulled flush onto San’s chest. 

“Of course, I do,” he hummed, tucking your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering behind your neck. You shivered at the sensation. “I could never, ever forget that day. Why?”

“Because you knew I wasn’t from around here,” you answered like it was obvious. He frowns, confused. “You knew I wasn’t from Utopia because you care about your people, so much so that you remember all of them well enough to know that I’m not one of your subjects.”

He clings on to you just like you were clinging on to the sound of his heavy breathing. Your faces were so close to each other's; one wrong step and your lips would meet. Time was at a standstill. You could drown in him and you'd never want to rise again. 

His hand on your waist had your heart thudding against your ribcage, and you never realized how empty your chest was, how deep it really was, until you were this close to him. "Y/N," he whispered, his breath laboured and shaky. His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly. "God, help me..."

There was no way you were meeting his eyes right now. He was right here close to you, so close, doing what he was doing and you letting him do it, and just leaning towards it. His hand held your chin and gently lifted it forward to meet his eyes. You bit your lips in apprehension and his eyes followed the movement. You knew you were done for when he mirrored you.

"W-What are you doing, San? Woah, this is dangerous," you stammered when you felt him back you up on the edge of the balcony. “I might fall.”

"Don't worry. I'll catch you when you fall."

Your heart felt heavy. "I believe it," you whispered, voice so small you weren't sure if he heard it.

But he did. The way he looked at you, how could you hold back from wanting to kiss him? If you leaned forward, you could capture his lips easily. "Don’t look at me like that," he begged, his voice between a plea and a demand. "I don't want to be reading this wrong right now, please."  

"I don't know what to say," you squeaked. "It's not that easy—"

"I can make it easy for you," he said, his voice dropping an octave. You watched as he took the locket off, throwing it haphazardly on the ground. You watched him grimace in slight pain at parting with the locket, but he didn’t seem to care. "I need you to kiss me."

He didn’t give you a chance to reply. San immediately steals your breath out of you. He captures your lips in a kiss so deep, his chest comes crashing with yours and you had to hold onto him for support. You fervently kissed him back, tilting your head as your breaths mingled. When you start moving with him, he sighed in relief and you couldn't help but do so as well. 

San kissed like he needed you to breathe and live. You could barely catch up, but you kiss him anyway. He brings a hand around your waist and the other behind your head to keep you close to make sure you were really here, like this heated kiss wasn't enough.

It was so easy to lose yourself in the kiss, after all, this was San. Your hands found their way on his head, your fingers slowly entangling themselves on his hair. You felt a bit bold, the rush of the kiss fueling you on. A low growl sounds from the back of his throat before he pulls away, sealing his lips on your neck, instead, to give it little kisses and kitten licks.

You felt his hands roam over your sides, going higher and higher until you felt them stop on your chest area. And when he cups both of your tits in his hands through your clothes, you couldn’t help the airy moan that escapes your lips. “Tell me to stop,” he breathes through your skin.

All you could do was helplessly whimper when you felt his teeth graze your earlobes, his hands toying with your top. And that was all he needed to know before he began to lower your sleeves, pushing your top down to expose your nipples that automatically hardened when the cold air hit them and he wastes no time touching them.

“So sensitive,” he chuckled, his fingers plucking at your nipples. “I've always wondered how these would feel. Would drive me mad whenever I thought about it. ”

You choke back another moan when he rubs his thumbs over the stiffening nubs. “A-Ah,” you gasped. “I've never noticed you looking…”

San responds by pinching a little harder. “But, I was,” he said, relishing the way your face twisted in pleasure as his hand started to massage your inner thighs. “From the moment Yunho brought you in…God, you were a vision, Y/N. Why did you think it took me a while to decide if I should take you as my bride?”

San takes one of your nipples into his mouth. “I wasn’t thinking about Utopia,” he said, tongue encircling your nubs as his other hand started to lower your undergarments. “I was imagining all the ways I would take you. Imagining how I would bend you over my throne and take you right there and then.”

Something explodes inside you at that revelation. “Please,” you beg, not really even know what you were begging for. “Please, San, I want you.”

He hummed, the vibration traveling straight through you. He released your nipple, giving it one last lick before he started to lift your dress, about to kneel, when you stopped him. “H-Hold on,” you stammered, slightly scandalised. “S-San, here? W-What if someone sees?”

He smirked dirtily. You faltered, you had never seen such an expression on San’s face. It was obscene. It was everything. He doesn’t respond, bunching your dress up in his hand and pushing them to you, making you grab it, before throwing your leg up on his shoulder as he kneeled down. You gasped, holding onto the balcony for dear life.

His eyes were locked on you, a predatory grin on his lips as he watched your mouth open to let out a silent scream when his latches on your inner thigh, sucking on the sensitive skin. It was painful, very much so. “S-San,” you moaned out, feeling pleasure at the same time, pushing his head away in a poor attempt to halt him. “Stop, it hurts—”

“Does it?” He tilted his head sarcastically, clenching his teeth on your skin.

“Y-Yes—”

“Good.”

That seemed to spur him on, the pain scrunching up your face as he sucked even harder, almost drawing blood to the area before moving on to the other thigh. Something about the pain triggers you, and before you knew it, you were pushing his head in, coaxing him to bite and suck harder to the point that the pain was more pleasurable than torturous.

“Say it,” he chuckled darkly, marking you, bruising your entire thigh area over and over again. “Say you’re mine or I stop.”

“N-No,” you sobbed, pushing your thighs together to keep his head in. “Don’t stop, please.”

And he laughs, sadistically so, his fingers tracing the slick folds of your pussy. “Who knew you’d be a pain slut? Just my luck. Look at you, already so wet for me,” he growled, rough and low, teasing your entrance before he pushed a finger in, making you gasp and clench around him.

Your hands slap your mouth shut, trying your best to prevent the lewd moans that threaten to slip past your lips. “You can be loud. It’s okay. We’re alone out here. No one’s going to hear you,” he reassured, not bothering to slow his fingers down. Let go, Y/N. I want to hear you.”

He thrusts his fingers faster to prove a point, obscene wet sounds filling in the entire space along with your breathy moans. “God, you’re dripping wet,” he groaned, his fingers plunging deeper to reach that spot that had you screaming out loud. “I bet you want my cock in here. To stretch this greedy little pussy and make you completely mine, don’t you?”

You arched your back, weak to his onslaughts, the thigh on top of his shoulder shaking helplessly. “San, p-please, that feels so good,” you whimpered.

"Fuck, listen to that," he murmured, the squelching sounds growing louder as he worked you relentlessly. "Your cunt's making such filthy noises. It's begging to cum, isn't it? Go on, soak my hand. Show me what a slut you are for this."

And you could feel it, your orgasm building slowly. “Let me help you out, hmm? Let me,” was all you heard before your vision completely blacked out. You felt San’s tongue flat on your clit, his fingers curling inside you as he laps you up, his tongue stroking your clit over and over again.

All you could do was scream, focusing on that tingly feeling on your abdomen the same time San kept alternating between pumping you with his fingers and his tongue swirling on your clit, slurping dirtily every time your drooling pussy would occasionally squirt on his face, just taking it all in, greedily swallowing your slick.

With a cry, you shattered all over San’s face, blubbering nonsense and begging at the same time as you clenched all over his fingers, all while he talked you through it. “That’s it, that’s my girl. Cum for me, yes.”

You panted heavily, the force of your orgasm literally rocking you. San withdrew his fingers, carefully letting your legs down, before grabbing the back of your head, forcefully stealing a bruising kiss from you, his teeth clashing angrily with yours. He pulls your head back, twice the force and effort, that it had your neck snapping backwards.

“Kneel,” he demanded. Your knees thudded on the floor, as he shoved his pants down, his thick cock springing freely in front of you. It was veiny, the tip already leaking with so much precum. “Open that filthy mouth for me,” he snarled, fisting his cock to slap it against your cheek.

You did as told, leaning forward to take the entirety of his cock in your mouth, but San had other plans. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, gripping it so tightly that the shock of it forced your mouth to open even wider, and that was when he rammed his cock in your mouth without warning.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned low in his throat, pulling on your hair so hard that it had tears pricking your eyes. The pain only made you clench, and your tears made San thrust harder. “This is what you’re made for. I own every holes you have that I can fuck.”

You felt the tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag, but he didn’t stop. You had to hold on to his thigh for balance, your saliva dripping pathetically from the corners of your mouth, as he fucked your mouth violently, not stopping and forcing you to take every inch of him. The brutal pace makes your throat burn and tears start streaming down your eyes.

“That’s it, fuck,” San growled ferally, grabbing your hair to pull you back enough to inhale air before slamming back in. “Choke on it, get used to your jaw being stretched out. God, look at you. Your throat’s so fucking tight…”

You struggled to breathe, throat sore, but he only fucked harder, his balls slapping on your chin with each thrust. Your efforts seemed to spur him on and he pushed your head deeper until your nose hit his pubic bone. Your eyes widened, letting out a sound between a whimper and a groan, and you retched around him. You could tell he was loving every second of this.

The sounds of your struggles, your nails digging helplessly on his skin, combined with the lewd slurps of your mouth sucking his cock unleashes something in San. His thrusts grew erratic, grunts turning almost animalistic, and the roughness of him mouth-fucking you just made your pussy throb, aching to be used by the same cock abusing your throat.

“I’m gonna cum, just stay like that—fuck,” San held you still, cock buried to the hilt, as his cum explodes down your throat, pulling away just in time so he could mark your tear-stained face with more cum. He stepped back, admiring how absolutely ruined you looked.

And you stayed kneeling, mouth open as cum began to spill from your mouth, looking up at him reverently in a daze. You were about to close your mouth to swallow, but San stops you, wrapping a hand around your throat. “Ah, ah, ah, you naughty girl,” he said, a dark chuckle rumbling from his chest. “I didn’t give you permission to swallow. Get up.”

He squeezed your throat, guiding you up as he held it. Your eyes widened in surprise, holding onto his arms all while his cum was still in your mouth. “Mmph,” you let out in panic when he squeezes. You couldn’t breathe even through your nose, but thab t’s exactly what San wanted.

“Go on,” he taunted, effectively cutting off your air supply with one strong squeeze of your throat. “Take a deep breath. Choke.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You gagged, coughing and choking violently on his cum. Filthy, disgusting gurgling sounds of his thick semen filled the air along with his mocking laugh. “Fuck, yes,” he sneered, fingers scooping the remnants of his cum that was scattered all over your face along with the ones dribbling on your neck back in your mouth. “Gurgle my fucking cum, yes.”

It was hellish, almost. The feeling of San’s cum going down but getting stopped halfway every time he squeezes your neck had you gurgling pitifully on it. You were starting to get a little dizzy from the lack of air, lightheaded from the restriction San’s hand had on your throat. You could feel your eyes rolling from the back of your head and it was when San let go.

Your legs buckled at the sudden rush of air to your head, knees thudding back down the floor as cum spilled out from your mouth, chest heaving as you panted hard. You barely felt yourself being lifted up. “Shh, you’re fine. Deep, easy breaths for me,” San soothed, wiping his stickiness off of you with the sleeves of his shirt. “Jump.”

You didn’t even process what he said, your body automatically doing it before your mind could follow. San caught you, your legs locking on his waist as your hands wrapped around his neck while his hands steadied you at your ass to keep you from falling. “Good girl,” he murmured.

His dark eyes locked onto yours and the way he gazed up at you with so much emotion and adoration behind the lust, like you were his entire world, sent shivers up your spine. San leaned in, tenderly compared to his brutal onslaught earlier, but you turned your head, avoiding his kiss. “San,” you croaked. “M-My mouth has your cu–”

A low growl rumbled from his throat. “I don’t give a fuck, don't you dare pull away from me,” he snarled, his voice laced with possessive fire. “You’re mine, Y/N, cum and all. Every inch of you belongs to me. Kiss me or so God help you for what I’m about to do to you if you don’t.”

Before you could protest, his hands cupped your cheeks with rough urgency, thumbs pressing into your jaw to force your face back to his. The kiss was filthy, dominant, and possessive. You melted into it, your core clenching with arousal at how he owned you completely.

You felt his hardness poking your hole, making you squirm, but San held you tight, holding you up with just one arm in an incredible show of strength. “I’m not done with you,” he said, lining himself up. “I’m going to fuck you now, alright? Hold on tight.”

You threw your head back as the both of you moaned the moment San breached you, not even bothering to ease it in and completely burying himself up to the hilt. He moved slowly at first, trying to find a comfortable position as he pulled you down a bit so he could thrust up in you.

“Oh, you’re so tight like this,” he groaned. His words made you clench, a feral snarl sounding at the back of his throat as his fingers dug into your ass as you did so.

He was lifting you by the ass and dropping you down and all you could do was bite the flesh of his shoulder to stop yourself from screaming. San’s self control was slipping, especially when the next bounce had him bucking his hips just as he dropped you onto his cock. Soon enough, he was pistoning roughly in you, the sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs obscene.

“San, a-ah, S-San, mmm,” you keened, your tits bouncing wildly as he filled you up with speed and force behind each thrust.

And just as he was wildly fucking into you up and and down his cock, he suddenly paused, a low growl vibrating from his chest. You were confused, but then, he kissed you again, this time, devouring you as you felt him walk, carrying you back inside as he climbed down the stairs into his chambers all while he was still inside you.

He still didn’t pull out as he sat down on the bed, taking off his shirt to get completely naked, laying down and positioning you on top of him while you were still dressed up. San looked up at you expectantly and you tried riding him, but your legs were jelly, already exhausted. He narrowed his eyes at your poor attempt at taking his cock.

“Tired already? I barely even started,” he scoffed, slapping your tits, making you whimper. He smirked as beads of sweat started to roll from his forehead down to his chin. His hoarse voice betrayed his pleasure, his grip on your hips getting tighter. “Come on, give it to me. Show me how much you want this cock.”

You bit your lip and sucked on it in anticipation. San raised his eyebrows at your refusal to move even though he could see how red your face was from all the work. "Don't play with me, Y/N. It's not a good idea," his fingers dug on your skin even harder and you were pretty sure it would leave marks the next day. "Move."

"S-San, please, I can’t," you pathetically whimpered. 

His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits before he lifted you by the waist and then roughly slammed you down, effectively impaling you on his cock. You screamed out loud when you felt him hit that sweet spot. "San, please," you whimpered, your shaking hands finding their place on his toned chest.

You felt him tense underneath from your touch, it made his cock twitch inside you and you couldn't help but bite your cheek in the pleasurable sensation. All of a sudden, San grabs the top of your dress, and with a sharp tug, rips it open, a satisfying rip echoing in the quiet room. You were sure you looked insane - a ripped top with your skirt still on.

“Figured this would help,” he laughed darkly. You gasped when he suddenly grabbed your shoulder and pulled you down. "Now fuck me, and you better fuck me good or you're not getting up from this bed." 

You whimpered when he grabbed a handful of your hair and roughly turned your head towards his to capture your lips in a rougher kiss while his other hand firmly held your ass and pushed it down to deepen his cock inside you. "San, yes, you feel so good i-inside me," you moaned out after he had driven deeper in you, head swimming in pleasure.

“You’re so cock dumb that you need my help fucking this dick, huh?” San mocked, his own moans mirroring yours as he guided your hips back and forth.

Your answer was another breathy moan. You were growing lax in his grip, just letting San do whatever he pleased. Nothing was stopping him now from jamming his cock into your pussy and every thrust knocked the air out of your lungs, but she still found the ability to scream out.

“This pussy is mine to use, yeah? Look at you, so tired but still taking my cock so well.” He palms your tits, his possessive gaze locked onto your pleasure-filled face. “God, you’re all mine, Y/N. Mine. Don’t stop now, you’re doing me so well.”

The feel of him, the scent of him, how deep you felt for him, just him…it was so overwhelming. And San can see it, the exhausted haze in your eyes as he fucked up at you. With a low grunt, he wraps his arms around your waist and flips you over in one fluid motion, pinning you on the mattress, your legs spread wide for him to admire.

You whined when he pulled out, slowly taking all of your clothes off until you were left bare and nude for him. You flushed red in embarrassment, but that soon turned into something when you saw the look in San’s eyes as he paused, drinking the sight of your naked body.

The way his gaze roamed your entire form with softness and tenderness left you breathless. Tears pricked behind your eyes at the way he lightly trails his hands all over you, reverence clear in his touch. His thumb swipes your tears away, his eyes shining with devotion that cut through the lust, adoration swelling in his chest until it physically aches him.

“You’re beautiful. So, so beautiful, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he murmured, roughly but tenderly. He cups your face gently, savouring the vulnerability as if owning you felt like the deepest and greatest honour for him. “You’re so…God, fuck, I don’t know what to say. I just want to…”

His tenderness can only last so long. He shifts forward, gripping your thighs to spread them wider and without warning, slams his hips forward, burying his cock back in you in one brutal thrust that makes your back arch off the bed. “Oh, God, San,” you moaned out. “S-San—”

“That’s it, take me. Take all of it,”  he snarled, pulling out almost fully before ramming back in, the wet slap of your bodies echoing. He pounds into you relentlessly, balls slapping against your ass with each drive, leaning in to kiss you passionately.

He pulled away so you could both inhale once. It only took one look in each other's eyes before you were both tangled into each other once more. It felt good - it felt comforting like you were getting embraced by some unforeseen grace and wrapped you in its bosom even though you felt like his cock was about to split you into two.

You tense, mouth gaping open when San bites and marks your collarbone. “San,” you cried. “Mmm, t-too much.”

“Tell me how my thick cock ruins you, how you crave to be bred,” he panted. You tighten around him to an alarming degree and you feel him smirk against your skin. “Oh? You like that? Want me to breed you?”

“Yes, San, yes,” you gasped, arching your back. “I-I want you to b-breed me, please.”

”Then I'll fill you up, mark you inside out, until you can't walk without feeling me.”

It’s all you can do to claw at his back, relishing the feel of his cock pumping into you. Every time San thrusts, he grunts, every roll of his hips into yours hits that spot inside that makes you see stars. And you just take it, because this was San. You’d do anything for San.

You grabbed his face so he could look at you. "Cum inside me," you were breathless, but it was like you stole his breath with how his cock seemed to harden even more inside you, if that was possible.

San’s eyes visibly darkened and he started pounding into you wildly. It was hard enough to make the bed creak obnoxiously as his cock plunges into you even deeper than before. Mindblowing pleasure started to ignite your insides, blanking your mind as your screams went up a pitch, cumming around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, fuck,” he gritted his teeth, groaning lowly as you felt the warm gush of his cum spurt inside you. You could feel his cock pulsing, and with a few last desperate thrust of his hips, he was finally sated.

He collapsed on top of you as you both panted, riding out your highs. You felt him give your skin little kisses here and there, all while he stroked your hair repeatedly like some sort of mantra. “Y/N,” you’d hear him whisper reverently. “Oh, my Y/N. My sweet, sweet Y/N…”

He rolls off of you, making you groan as you feel warm liquid gush from your pussy, one that he silently wipes off with a wet towel before laying down next to you, scooping you up carefully so you could rest your head on the crook of his shoulder. You stay like that for a while, just basking in the afterglow, when San suddenly breaks the silence.

“Do you really like Utopia?” He asked, almost idly like an afterthought.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting such a random question. “Of course I do.”

“How much?” His gaze finally found yours. “Enough to fight for it? Enough to lead it, if one day you had to?”

Your heart stuttered inside your chest, but you chalked it up as nothing. After all, sex sometimes made people think of hypothetical scenarios and you decided to humour San with this one. “Yes,” you answered honestly. “Utopia needs someone to love it even though it’s cruel.”

He exhaled, visible relief loosening in his shoulder, his lips curved faintly. “Perhaps,” he murmured, kissing your forehead lightly. “You might be the queen Utopia actually needs.”

San had disappeared. Vanished into thin air the next day.

When you woke up the next day, you were completely alone, San’s side of the bed gone cold. You didn’t think anything of it, he had duties as king and he couldn’t just stay in bed for you all day, but when got back to your chambers with a worried Wooyoung and a panic-stricken Hongjoong arguing with Jongho about San’s whereabouts, it was when your entire world fell.

“There is no way Your Grace would do that,” Jongho pressed, walking back and forth in the throne room, anger in his tone, dismay and doubt on his face at each passing second. “He just went for a ride. That’s all. Sometimes he does that after the curse—”

“Jongho, it’s been over half a day,” Hongjoong insisted, irritated at the taller man as he raised his voice up a notch, making you flinch. “Hell, the fucking mage doesn’t even know where he is. He did not go for a ride and you know it.”

“So, what?” Jongho yelled back, the usually composed adviser slowly losing his cool. “Are you telling me that His Majesty ran away? Is that it? Are you even hearing yourself?”

You took a step back, dread filling your entire chest. Just the night before, you had laughed softly at his questions, brushing them off as speculation, never once suspecting that his questions weren’t meant to be hypothetical at all. You quickly ran off, ignoring how Hongjoong kept calling you back and pleading for you to stay put. You needed to get out of there.

The entire palace was in shambles, the servants and nobles all scrambling but failing to contain themselves at the thought of their missing king. Some of them were genuinely worried for San, but there were a select few who feared of the said curse completely annihilating the kingdom now that San was missing.

You didn’t heed any of them, worriedly looking for San even in the most obscure of places. Your panic rose every time you were met with an empty room, holding back tears as you imagined all the worst possible ways of what might have happened while you were asleep. You probably looked pathetic, but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to see San again.

An idea pops in your head. Yunho. Having no other options left, you quickly ran to the mage’s quarters, not caring how unladylike you looked as you sprinted down the hall. He didn’t even notice you come in as he was speaking urgently to Seonghwa, his expression grim. When Yunho noticed you, whatever composure he had shattered.

He quickly dismissed Seonghwa and ran towards you. The poor man was so distressed, sunken bags of purple splotching his skin, whatever magic in him getting sapped little by little by how much effort he was putting in finding his king and your eyes fell, feeling for the man. “Yunho,” you breathed out. “A-Are you alright?”

Your chest wanted to cave in itself, panic clawing further up your skin. If magic cannot even reach San, then what will? “I-I was with him last night,” you swallowed, spitting the admittance out even if it embarrassed you so. 

Yunho puts two and two together, brows shooting up in surprise, but chose not to comment on what you were trying to tell him, and you were thankful about it. You told him everything, minus the sexual details - San’s insecurities about being king, him thinking about abdicating at one point, all the way to the questions about you leading Utopia if the time came.

Yunho swore under his breath, a sharp, uncharacteristic sound. “Damn it,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “It might be the curse.”

“I need to know, Yunho. I think I’ve held off for far too long,” you pleaded, eyes burning. Yunho looked hesitant, but you pressed on. “I’ve respected your silence as an elder, respected San as the authority, and I respected Utopia as a whole since I’m not of this land and maybe I didn’t have the right to know. Please. Tell me. I need to know, I’m begging you.”

Something in your face must have touched something deep in the mage, and finally, he gives a slow nod. He exhaled heavily, shoulders sagging like the weight of centuries had finally caught up to him. “You’re going to need to sit for this one,” he murmured, gesturing towards a chair.

You didn’t need to be told twice. “It’s a long story,” he sighed, bringing his palms up, a small glow of light emanating from it, to touch your forehead as you felt yourself being transported into a memory. “While I cannot tell you, I could show you. Close your eyes.”

The world tilted on its axis. At first, you were confused because you saw a castle, a very familiar looking one at that and it was when it hit you - it was Utopia, only this time, there was no snow. It was lush and green, alive and well. You quickly realised that this was Utopia far before the snow started to swallow the kingdom, long before it had turned inhabitable.

And on the front of the castle grounds was a man in armour, standing proudly over an anguished woman, screaming at the top of her lungs in despair as she cradled the bloody body of another man who had long passed, her grief so raw that it split the sky open.

You gasped in horror at what you were witnessing, even more so when you looked closer. The man in the armour, he looked like San, only this one was far younger, and his eyes; they were unkind. Psychopathic, almost, not capable of empathy as he embellished the blood-soaked sword he had presumably used to slay the now dead man on the ground.

“You killed him,” she mourned, her tears falling in torrents, voice breaking as her blood soaked hands tried hard to seal the fatal wound, but to no avail. “You killed him, you monster!”

But the cruel man didn’t care. He didn’t say anything, just watched with wild, possessive eyes. You gasped when the woman looked up, her eyes glowing red in fury, the magic exploding from her so strong that even you could feel it from this memory.

“May your kingdom know only the cold that took him from me,” she seethed. She rose slowly to her feet, and when she stood fully, her magic surged again, this time, stronger and final.

For the first time, the man in armor reacted. “What are you doing?” He barked, stepping forward with unease as the temperature dropped around him. You watched in horror as a sudden blizzard filled the entire space and palace. “Stop, you cannot—”

“May your bloodline rot beneath endless snow,” she cried. You felt it, the cold slamming into you as snow immediately blanketed the kingdom of Utopia. “Only when a heart as warm and pure as his enters willingly and claims the throne and be claimed in return will the winter break.” Then the vision shattered. You gasped, eyes flying open, Yunho’s hand still resting against your forehead, his expression heavy with regret. “W-What was that?” You blurted out in disbelief at what you just saw. “Who was that? H-He looks like San, who was that woman?”

“He does, because that was San’s father,” Yunho sighed, panting to catch his breath from all the energy he exerted. “There was a beautiful forest witch who lived in the woods that he saw hunting once. He immediately fell in love with her, or rather, obsessed. It was disgusting, San’s mother died from heartbreak when San was only a newborn.”

Yunho dragged his hands down his face in defeat. “It was greed in its coldest form. The witch’s heart already belonged to someone else, and in a jealous rage, San’s father killed him. In front of her, no less. It’s why Utopia’s cold and desolate. The snow is a manifestation of her grief.”

“And when the former king died, that cruel bastard,” Yunho continued, his voice rough. “The curse didn’t fade…it passed. San absorbed it instantly.”

Your chest tightened, stomach twisting into something painful as your nails dug into your palms. “I-I don’t understand,” you uttered. “What do you mean it passed? Are you telling me that…”

You trailed off, not even wanting to continue. May your bloodline rot beneath endless snow. The words were still clear in your head like a ringing siren. Yunho nodded grimly when you looked at him. “Not only did she curse the kingdom as a whole to eternal coldness, but also the entire Choi bloodline for that very same greed that killed her lover,” he confirmed. 

Anger filled your veins at the man who had pretty much cursed his son for greed he couldn’t control. “At first, we didn’t understand what was happening,” the mage spoke, a faraway look in his face as he recalled a memory he’d been wanting to forget. “The snow just never melted and storm after storm claimed hundreds of lives. San’s father didn’t live long enough for me to study the curse. However—”

He paused, swallowing audibly, looking towards the floor. “There was someone who did live long enough,” he whispered, voice cracking. “And he’s been missing for half a day now. He was but a child back then, Y/N. I-I just…sorry, I need to collect myself.”

A cold realization slid down your spine. San. You imagined a boy growing up under a weight no one should have to carry, a vessel for sins he never committed. That was the part that hurt the most to you because it was no wonder there was always something distant in his gaze, walls you could never get through, because he was always bracing for the cold no else could feel.

“I tried everything back then, you know?” Yunho finally spoke after a long silence, decades of desperation still lingering in his eyes. “I tried every magic I knew even if it almost killed me, but the snow just would not melt. But San…he loved Utopia even if the entire kingdom condemned him.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, letting him continue. “Utopia’s bound to its ruler. The Choi clan. The witch was smart enough to kill two birds with one stone - completely end the bloodline with the one thing that could outlast generations while erasing the entire kingdom.”

Your breath caught. “The snow.”

Yunho nodded. “Ironically, San was the one who realised what the curse actually entailed. Have you noticed that he never wears anything thick? He never gets cold when he’s outside with you, have you noticed that?”

You stayed silent, the puzzle pieces connecting slowly. Just last night when you were out on that balcony, he gave you his coat, even admitting outright that he never got cold. “He said the locket prevented him from being cold,” you murmured to yourself more as an afterthought.

“That was half the truth, yes,” Yunho said. “The reason is because the curse wasn’t meant to destroy the land outright - it was meant to bury it. ”

A chill crawled up your spine. “Then why hasn’t it yet?”

Yunho looked at you then, eyes dark with something close to reverence. “Because San wouldn’t let it. San absorbed the snow. Literally. Accidentally discovered it one Christmas evening when it stormed so bad, the snow was waist deep. It was the magic trying to reclaim Utopia completely. He got so sick, we thought we were losing him.”

The realization hit you hard. “So when there’s a storm—”

“He’s at his weakest,” Yunho finished. “Because he’s burning himself out to keep the snow at bay. Holding it back long enough for people to survive another day. The dark marks along his skin, they were the curse in itself, but more so just a side effect of him straining and pulling the curse inside him so the storm would stop, at least, for a while.”

The pieces slid together with a sickening clarity. Christmas was winter time and therefore where storms are the strongest. No wonder he hated it. No wonder he had isolated himself, it was so he could suffer in silence. And you were none the wiser.

You remembered how he’d convulsed, vomiting helplessly, blood streaking from his nose as if his body were tearing itself apart from the inside. And then, days later, the storm had stopped as if nothing had happened. It hadn’t passed - San had just taken it. He had been protecting his people all his life and nobody even knew it, choosing to be condemned just to keep them alive. 

And suddenly, you understood why San never stopped watching the skies; why even if he was with you or preoccupied with other people or in the middle of an important meeting he would always look out the windows. “The locket?” You asked weakly.

“I made it for him,” he said quietly. “Years of San absorbing the snow had not been kind to his body. I wove magic into it so a part of the curse is in that locket. When the storm hits, it absorbs the curse before it reaches him. Not all of it, but enough to keep him alive until...well.”

His voice turns somber. “Without it, he wouldn’t survive the storms. Not anymore. And believe me, we tried transferring the curse to an enemy at one point by making them wear the locket, but it was too strong. Whoever touches it instantly perishes.”

You looked at him more closely,  the way his jaw tightened as if holding back years of grief. And suddenly, you noticed it. This wasn’t just sorrow, this was something deeper. “You raised him,” you said softly. “You love him.”

He only nodded, once, eyes shining as he looked away. “He wasn’t just my king, Y/N. That’s my boy,” he wavered, emotions finally coming through. “And he deserved something good for once. Which is exactly why you’re here, we needed you. Only when a heart as warm and pure as his enters willingly and claims the throne. The moment I saw you in that alleyway, I knew you were a kind soul, Y/N. Utopia becoming a legitimate kingdom with a queen was only half the reason.”

Yunho proceeds to explain that while it was true that they needed a queen, the reason why San was marriageless until now was because of what the curse said. It wasn’t hard for San to force someone into a marriage or use something to bargain to find a queen, but it would be useless because the curse required someone to enter into the marriage willingly. And that was that, they thought that by you being here willingly, winter was going to fade.

But it didn’t. Nothing had changed and everyone was back at square one. “The problem was,” Yunho continued, exhaling shakily. “There was the other half of the curse. One that San absolutely refused to acknowledge. Be claimed in return will the winter break.”

You halted at the insinuation, freezing like snow had been piled on top of your head. Your mind automatically raced with scenarios you didn’t want to think about. Yunho’s silence had pretty much confirmed everything you needed to know. To be claimed in return. They were going to kill you, use you as a sacrifice to balance the curse so the snow would finally stop and winter would come to an end. A willing queen and a king to give her up.

“There was no way in hell San was going to let anything happen to you. You saw it yesterday. He didn’t just reject it, he lost control,” he said firmly. “There was never a doubt in his mind.”

“So, what now? Where do we even find him?” You asked, chest aching painfully. “There must be a solution, Yunho, something we could do to completely reverse this curse. I could hit the library for information, anything at this point. There has to be a way.”

“Well, yes, there is…” Yunho trailed off, freezing as blood completely drained from his face. Whatever he just thought of had him off kilter so bad, he got up from his chair and knocked everything off the shelves in the process. 

Before you knew it, he hurriedly bolted out of the room in sheer panic, leaving you to chase after him, the adrenaline boosting you because Yunho was fast. “Yunho,” you chased after him, ignoring the burning sensation in your lungs and the sudden cold that hit you when you realised you had chased him all the way out to the horse stables. “What’s—”

“I know where he is,” Yunho gritted his teeth, already preparing to mount a horse. You could tell he was trembling in fear, swallowing the panic that had overtaken him. “San’s planning to sacrifice himself. The land is bound to him, and his death would end the curse. Quickly, Y/N, hold my hand. We have to find him now.”

Terror filled your lungs, nodding anyway as you mounted, hands shaking so badly Yunho had to steady you before he started to ride away. The cold air hitting your face as the horse moved and blurred your surroundings did nothing to quelch the fear building at the pit of your stomach. All you could think was San and hope that you weren’t too late.

Every second felt like it was tearing something vital from your chest, tears freezing at the corners of your eyes as you rode harder, faster, praying to see the man who had long decided that no curse was worth your life; that he would rather lose himself or let Utopia freeze than forever lose you.

The thought had you keen internally. Please, you begged, tears falling down your face painfully as they automatically froze before they even had the chance to form, gripping the saddle until your knuckles burned. Please don’t let him think he has to disappear for us to survive. 

“W-Where are we going?” You screamed into the air, teeth chattering from the cold.

“The witch’s shack a little further up north where she lived with her lover,” Yunho replied, snapping the reins forward to make the horse go faster. “Her power’s concentrated there.”

It didn’t take long for you and Yunho to end up in a clearing where the trees were a little less condensed but the snow and wind were so strong and thick that it was almost impossible to see through it. But your breath hitched, anyway, because the moment you got past the haze, you saw him clear as day as if he was a beacon shining even from afar.

San. He was standing still in front of a quaint little shack, unbothered by the elements around him, just staring up at the sky with his eyes closed and you hated it. Absolutely detested the sight, because it looked like he had already resigned to his fate and was just waiting for the right moment to execute his plans.

And he was ready. You watched in panic as he raised his hand to his neck, holding the chain of the locket to take it off, but your body was already careening forward. You pushed yourself, jumping off of the horse before it even paused, ignoring Yunho’s panicked calls and the way your leg ached when you fell particularly hard.

“No!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, running like a madwoman through the thick blankets of snow even though your lungs were thinning in air and your legs were aching for reprieve. It was ear-piercing and blood-curdling enough to catch San’s attention, startling him to a halt and turning around, eyes widening when he saw your pitiful form run up to him.

And by God, he looked devastating. You wanted to tear up, it just wasn’t fair for him to look this breathtaking and ethereal even as the snow surrounded him, melancholy wrapping him in its grace as he stared at you with hollow, empty eyes. “San, please,” you begged, sobbing at this point. He looked like his soul had already left him long before his earthly body expired.

He smiled, the lines on his face softening and you abhorred how peaceful it made him look. This was the most at peace San had ever looked and you hated it. “My sweet Y/N,” he croaked, the trembling in his hands betraying the true fear he actually felt. “What are you doing here?”

You yelped, trudging forward in failure when you tripped over a rock you couldn’t see hidden by the thick snow. You pushed yourself up with shaking hands, tears blurring your vision. “Don’t,” you sobbed, words tumbling out broken and raw. “Don’t you dare look at me like that. Don’t you dare make that face like you’ve already decided.”

You felt Yunho behind you, steadying you, providing you warmth with the little magic he had left, opting not to say anything. This was between you and San at this point. And San, he just shook his head. “I have exhausted all options,” he said. “I am exhausted. Please, just let me go. I think I have suffered long enough that it should be alright if I could rest a bit, don’t you think so?”

He said it so quietly amidst the oncoming storm and that scared you more than if he’d shouted. Your chest cracked open at the gentleness of it, at how he said it like a plea instead of a decision. “No,” you cried, tears freezing at your lashes. “Not you. Not now. Not ever.”

San’s eyes softened. “Y/N—”

“You’d already come this far, why now? You can’t do this to the people who care for you. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho, and especially Yunho. You can’t do this to me. We’ve barely just begun, San, you cannot leave me like this. There has to be a way—”

“Don’t you get it? This is the only way,” San snapped, not out of anger, but more so in desperation, hoping for you to understand where he was coming from even if it meant it was for all the wrong reasons. “The curse ends here. With me. I am the last of my bloodline so with me gone, the curse perishes alongside me.”

“You know damn well that that’s not true,” you snapped back, the frustration giving you a newly found rush of adrenaline that temporarily overtook the cold and the pain in your leg. “I came here willingly, San, and I’m just as willing to do my part to be a sacrificial lamb—”

“No,” he immediately turns down, fire in his eyes so intense it could’ve been enough to melt the snow around him. “I didn’t fight this curse this long to sacrifice someone else in the name of balance, especially not you.”

“So, why won’t you fight for yourself this time?” You asked, voice breaking. “For us?”

“I am,” he said hoarsely. “This is the hardest battle I’ve fought yet. You think I don’t want to stay? You think I don’t want more tea sessions with you even though I despise tea? To stay long enough to finally see my kingdom be warm and green with you by my side?”

Something about that almost confession broke something inside you, and that was the most devastating part of it all. Almost. Just enough to finally tell you how he truly felt about you, but not enough where he was willing to stay long enough to tell you the entirety of it. “Don’t go, San,” you looked at Yunho helplessly. “Tell him, please…”

But the mage stayed mum, conserving his energy to keep you warm from the blizzard even though tears of devastation were already falling from his eyes. San’s voice dropped to something raw. “My throne without you is meaningless and its future built on your death is no future at all,” he admitted before his eyes hardened with finality. “I’m sorry, YN.”

It all happened fast. In one moment, San was lifting his hands to take the locket off, and in the next, you were rushing to him, deliberately knocking him off to tackle him on the ground, momentarily distracting him. Without thinking, you took the locket off of him, putting it around your neck. It was all it took for all hell to break loose.

Yunho’s spell shattered instantly in his state of shock and San’s eyes widened impossibly so as he realised what just happened. Everything was a blur, your ears ringing as you began to tumble down. San screamed your name, the sound of it so raw, primal, and animalistic that you could hear him even when you could barely comprehend the world anymore.

He immediately caught, cradling you in his arms as your vision started to blur out. “Y/N, oh God, what the fuck did you do?” San cried, frantically shaking you as if that would get rid of the curse. “Y/N, why? Why would you do that? Why?”

Your body jerked against his, your chest tightening to a degree where it felt like it was about to cave in on you. Suddenly, you felt this overwhelming cold over you and San’s grip tightened impossibly so. “Yunho,” he called out in panic. “Her hands, oh God—”

Black lines bled through your skin, exactly like the ones on San’s chest. They crept from your hands up your arms all the way towards your throat. Yunho staggered forward, horror breaking his paralysis. “The curse,” he said, voice shaking. “I-I think it’s binding to her—”

San wasn’t listening. He was sobbing now, forehead pressed to yours, tears streaking down his face as he begged you to stay awake. “Look at me,” he pleaded. “Please. Don’t you dare leave me, Y/N, please—”

The last thing you saw was San’s face, utterly broken, grief carved into every line of it as he clutched you to his chest like something already lost.

Warmth you’ve never felt before led your consciousness to awaken. It felt abnormal, like you weren’t to feel it and for a moment, you thought you were back at your parents’ farm - sweat clung to your skin, seeping out of your pores as natural heat from the farmland permeated all over the place. Instead of the humble shack made out of wood and concrete, you were met with arched windows draped in sheer gossamer curtains. The bed beneath you was impossibly soft, and you were confused for a second. This wasn’t the farmlands, and this wasn’t warmth from the sun-baked earth you remembered. 

You had to get up because the sweat was starting to irritate your lower back and you scrambled upright, you had to squint, covering your eyes as sunlight suddenly streamed from the windows. Now that you think about it, your lower back hurts too, like you’ve been laying down for quite some time and the long sleep hurt more than felt restful.

You reckoned you should change out of your dress. It felt a little too thick for the weather. It was a nice day, perfect for a walk when you looked out your windows. The birds were singing outside, the trees were a lovely shade of green and multiple colourful flowers littered the entire palace grounds—

You paused, horribly so. You blinked in a daze, rubbing your eyes in a daze and looked again. No. It was still bright outside, no blankets of snow covering the entire grounds like you knew Utopia to be. It wasn’t supposed to be like this - warm, vibrant, alive. And you staggered, remembering everything all at once - the curse, the locket, San.

Suddenly, the door opened and there stood Wooyoung, looking like he was frozen in time, skin pale as if he had just seen a ghost. Whatever he had been holding slipped from his hands and clattered to the floor, forgotten entirely.

Before you could even say hello, he spun on his heel and shouted down the hall, voice cracking with panic and disbelief. “H-Hongjoong,” his voice cracked before he cleared his throat. “Hongjoong!”

Hongjoong burst in, breathless, eyes wild. “What? What happened—” 

The second he saw you standing there, he froze as well before his knees gave out beneath him. He dropped to the floor without shame, head bowing as his hands pressed together. “Thank the Heavens,” he whispered hoarsely, emotion flooding his voice. “Oh, thank the Heavens…”

Neither of them waited a second longer. “I-I’ll inform the mage—” the knight said before leaving.

Wooyoung bolted out as well, shouting at the top of his lungs as he ran down the halls, voice so loud you were sure the entire palace could have heard it. “Your Majesty, Your Majesty!” The young man hollered, voice brimming with emotion. “Your Majesty, she’s awake!”

And in the chaos of it all, you could hear it, feel him approaching your chambers without even looking, the sounds of panicked footsteps as they got closer and closer and there he was - the man that made your heart beat at the mere thought of him, right in the flesh.

San’s hair was disheveled, like he had run his hand through it so many times in frustration. Your heart was torn between joy and hurt because San looked utterly worn down. The bags beneath his eyes looked darker than mere shadows and he resembled more of a shell of a man whose sleep had long abandoned him.

And now he was staring you at like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, torn between wanting nothing but to hold you versus protecting himself from nightmare and heartbreak just in case this wasn’t real; that maybe he was hallucinating and you were only a figment of his imagination that he wanted so, so bad to manifest.

He flinched, not daring to breathe or blink. Slowly, he began to move closer to you, hands shaking as they hovered over you like he was afraid touching you would make you disappear. Just as suddenly, his legs gave out, knees thudding on the floor as his trembling arms wrapped around your thighs, head buried in your dress as he embraced your form.

“S-San,” you let out in surprise, hands automatically finding their way on his hair. “Please–”

“Don’t,” he spoke, begged, voice raw and muffled. “Please, j-just let me have this.”

When your fingers twitched, he gasped like he’d been holding his breath for as long as you were in that deep slumber and your touch just made him remember how to let air back into his lungs and life into his soul. It was how everyone else caught you and San and there was no dry eye in that room and at that moment.

Seonghwa and Jongho left first after, relief shining in their eyes, both bowing respectfully before they let Yeosang in, the kind-hearted chef holding onto a smiling Mingi. The taller had to lead the former out to give you and San privacy. Only Yunho was left, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Don’t do that ever again. Don’t you ever do that to me again. You don’t understand,” he exhaled. “Y/N. I thought I lost you, you were asleep for so long, I-I just…”

You tried to speak, but your throat burned. You sat down to his eye level, unwrapping his arms around you, grabbing his face between your hands. “San,” you said hoarsely. “Look at me.”

And he did. And by God his face, he looked wrecked up close. Eyes red-rimmed,  jaw clenched so tight it trembled. “I’m here,” you continued, tears slipping free. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re both here. Together.”

Something in him broke. He finally pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around you, his restraint shattering all at once. He buried his face in your hair, clutching you like you were the only solid thing left in the world before grabbing your face to kiss you. His lips were warm with promise and relief neither of you dared named yet but felt settled deep in your chests.

A pointed, awkward cough cut through the moment. “Ahem.”

You both froze, pulling away to see Yunho standing a few steps away, one brow raised, amusement swimming behind his concern. “I’m still here,” Yunho said dryly. 

You broke out into a breathless laugh first and it was all the three of you needed to make light of the situation. San guided you to the bed to let Yunho examine your body. “You’re perfectly healthy,” he said in disbelief even behind the relief. “A miracle, I tell you. You were reckless and I ought to smack you in the head for what you did, but so far, so good.”

It was when they told you everything that happened after you passed out. They couldn’t wake you up so they had no choice but to bring you back to the palace. San had to look away, jaw tight, when Yunho narrated how the king never left your bedside. But what truly surprised you was that about a week later, the snow started to melt and storms just halted completely.

“J-Just like that?” You asked, not able to stop your surprise, looking outside in confirmation and the scenario was still the same. Utopia looked utterly alive and if you closed your eyes to breathe in, it felt free. “How long did I…sleep?”

Both of them looked at each other before Yunho looked back on you. His expression softened, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Almost four months,” he said quietly. “It’s spring now.”

But something still boggled your mind, something far darker than you didn’t want to acknowledge but had to know. “But how? I don’t understand, is this how it ends? Just like that? Is Utopia free from the curse? Is…” you trailed off. “San free?”

Yunho went quiet for a moment, then slowly repeated the words that had haunted the kingdom for generations. “Only when a heart as warm and pure as his enters willingly and claims the throne,” he said softly. “And be claimed in return, will the winter break.”

You stayed silent, confused, but listened. “For the longest time, we misunderstood that last part as loss, that we needed a pure and kind heart as a sacrifice to stop the snow. But the magic never asked for death. It wanted reciprocation.”

You let that settle in, shaking your head because you still didn’t understand it. You felt San’s grip tighten around your hand and you turned to look at him. He had a soft smile on his face. “My father,” he spoke softly. “He was greedy. Just wanted to possess a love that never belonged to him. To enter willingly to claim the throne and be claimed in return…it was never about sacrifice. It was about being chosen back.”

The words landed like a final piece snapping into place. “In short,” Yunho finished. “To love and be loved in return. A queen of pure heart who was willing to accept a bloodline of rotten rulers with all she had and a king who loved with all his without asking for anything in return.”

The words settled heavily in the room. You had to admit, it was all anticlimactic; something you read as a child in those fairytale books your parents could barely afford selling grains. Love. Such a convoluted word yet powerful enough to bury a kingdom if need be.

It was all you could think about long after Yunho had left, leaving you and San in your chambers as the both of you laid down on your bed, his arms wrapped around you, just basking in the silence and the general presence the both of you offered each other. It was all you needed, and you were all he needed and more. 

Maybe that was what it really was. Even if it was anticlimactic, it was reality, and what you felt for San was real. It ran deeper than the curse that held him for the longest time, and it certainly went beyond the reckless endangerment you put your life in when you wore the locket for him.

“Are you mad at me?” You blurted out dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

San didn’t answer you right away. He exhaled a small laugh through his nose in disbelief. “Yes. Very much so,” he said honestly. Your heart tanked, guilt swirling in it, but before you could spiral further, he tightened his arms around you. “But,” he continued gently. “What I feel for you will always be stronger than my anger. ”

All the breath from lungs left you, his words suddenly becoming the oxygen you needed to live. You wanted to choke from all the emotions that were clawing up your throat, and you looked at him - really looked at him. You breath caught because there was no trace of that king nor that man who was bound by a curse he never deserved. He was just San. His eyes were warm, devastatingly soft, watching you like you were something precious. 

“I lost myself while you slept. You just looked so…gone,” he admitted quietly. “And it terrified me more than the curse ever did. A part of me died when you wore that locket.”

Your throat burned. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to scare you like that, I swear, and honestly, I still don’t know what I was thinking. I just knew I didn’t want you to leave me.”

He didn’t answer; chose not to. He smiled, staring at you with fondness in his eyes and it was such a San thing to do. He brushed his knuckles along your cheek, memorizing you in a way he’d never done before. The way he looked at you made your chest ache.

“I’m underselling this, aren’t I?” He suddenly said, his thumb traced slow, absent-minded circles against your arm. “What I feel for you, I mean.”

You felt his forehead rest against yours, breath warm, steady. “I’d swallow poison if it tasted like you,” he said. “I’d have brought you back one way or another. Find another witch to curse me just to drag you back. I loved you, Y/N. And you were gone. I loved you. And you slept.”

Your chest ached, full and fragile all at once. You couldn’t speak. If you did, you were certain you’d fall apart. His thumb stilled on your arm. “And I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, voice low, rough around the edges.

You were confused. "For what?"

"That you thought you couldn't come to me," he whispered. "For letting you believe that the only way was to carry what should have never been yours."

He turned to you, his eyes shining with sincerity, his heart on his sleeve as he was about to pour his emotions to you. "It breaks my heart that I didn't do well enough for you to know that," he kissed your hand, his lips lingering longer. "I'm the one safe person you can always turn to, Y/N. Had I known it was going to come to that, I would’ve told you and let you choose what to do."

"Are you saying that you would have been okay if I solved everything myself?" You asked nervously. “That you would have let me help had you told me the curse beforehand?”

"Are you asking me to be okay with it?"

You didn’t reply immediately. "I want to know what my future husband thinks," you admitted shyly. 

He raises a brow in surprise, the redness on the tip of his ears betraying his flustered emotions. “Yes,” his thumb brushed under your eye, tender. “The answer is yes. Your happiness has been the most important thing to me ever since I met you. I hope you know that.”

"I know it now," a tear fell from your eyes. And then multiple of them followed. "And now is all that matters."

He wiped your tears away with his free hand, looking at you like you were the only constant thing in the world that finally stopped freezing long before his kingdom did. “You’re beautiful even in tears,” he murmured.

"You can't just say things like that," you sniffled, smiling through your tears anyway. "I-I have nothing to offer you, San, I'm just a farm girl and I have no idea how to lead a kingdom. I don’t have any merit."

You had no idea where all your insecurity was coming from, but it was there. "No," San whispered. "You can give me everything. The people too. Look around you, Y/N."

And you did and that’s when you saw it. Random things you knew weren’t in the room - a hand stitched shawl, flowers in ornate vases, carved wooden charmed wooden carvings, multiple letters stacked against one another in one corner of the room. Your room was filled to the brim with gifts.

“They’re from the people of Utopia,” he said, following your gaze. “They’ve been giving you gifts. I told them everything. About the curse. About what you did. About how the snow stopped because you refused to let me disappear.”

Your heart thudded painfully against your ribs. “To them, you’re already their queen,” he continued. His eyes shone warmly, shining softly and earnestly as a good king should who truly loved his kingdom like San did. “ You lead by caring enough to try. Every day, even when it costs you. I know I did.”

Then he smiled, that soft, devastating smile meant only for you, and reached into his palm. A ring rested there and your tears started falling downwards at a faster rate as he took your hand in his. “Let’s do this again, please. No more duties, no more curses. Just us choosing each other, if you’d let me.”

The room felt impossibly still as he held the ring up to you, hope trembling just beneath his calm. “To the person who braved the cold with me,” he began. “Would you spare me the torment of being without you and marry me?"

You couldn’t speak, nodding fervently as you covered your mouth to stop yourself from sobbing out loud. The breath he let out was shaky, broken by a smile so full it almost hurt to look at. When he slid the ring onto your finger, the cold felt like nothing more than a distant memory.

In that moment, with no more snow falling and no curse left to fear, it felt like the world finally, truly began again for the both of you. He cupped your face in his hands and leaned in. The kiss was nothing short of gentle, longing melting away between your lips.

And as the last remnants of fear had unshackled itself from the cold grips of despair, the curse was unbound. And at last, San felt free - truly free for the first time in his life.

𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @ksmutsociety @keopihaus @othersideoutlawsnetwork @pirateeznet Dividers by: @strangergraphics & @cafekitsune

[aeristudios]

tell me, will we survive? pt. 1

𔘓 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're still in love with Mingyu. Just not with the version of him who forgets to look at you. 𔘓 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: architect!Mingyu x artist!reader 𔘓 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, established relationship, college sweethearts, 18+ 𔘓 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a bit of heavy angst, cursing, kissing, steamy shower scene (lol), oral (f. receiving), hair pulling 𔘓 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5K 𔘓 𝐀𝐍: This is a new series that I dreamed up while I was listening to music and I wanted to write about potentially falling out of love with someone you thought would be with for the rest of your life. This might be the shortest chapter in the series but I hope you guys enjoy it 🥺

I want to give a huge thank you to @hannieween and @hannieoftheyear for reading over this for me, let me annoy you with my ramblings and giving me some well needed feedback. Also thank you to @straylightdream and @haologram for letting me run ideas when I was stuck.

playlist: dosii- lovememore., summer walker- insane, def.- my abandoned love, dpr ian- violet crazy, christian kuria- santorini, jiwoo- sapphire blue

You never imagined the possibility of falling out of love with Mingyu.

You don’t know exactly what it is, and you can’t explain the feeling you have other than as boredom and a lack of effort. It’s the same routine over and over. Wake up together, go to work, come home, make dinner, shower, and sleep. You can’t recall the last time you actually looked at each other and had a real conversation. Or touched each other outside of a quick peck on the lips. You are about to crawl out of your skin. 

You still care about him and love him, of course. You've been together for a long time, having met in art school where he studied architecture and you focused on painting in Fine Arts. From the beginning, there was a strong bond, and he quickly became your favorite person. You shared many things—chemistry, sex, and a connection that felt like meeting your twin flame. After only six months of dating, you moved in together, but it already felt like you'd been a couple forever. He understood you, loved you in the way you needed, and you supported him in his pursuit of his Master's Degree. He always made time to be present with you.

But lately, he hasn’t been present, as if his attention is elsewhere. The fire you felt at the start of your relationship—the vibrant colors you saw when he was near—has faded into gray over the past year. Mingyu was your inspiration, your muse, and now you’re forced to find it elsewhere. You’ve attempted to reignite those initial feelings by spending time together outside the house or cuddling, but often you were met with responses like “yeah sure, baby, let’s talk about it later” or “not right now.”

The reality is your heart doesn’t beat the way it used to when you think of him, and to be frank, it makes you fucking sad. 

You sit at the table, watching him make breakfast with a soft hum like nothing is wrong, like you don’t feel the way you do, and that you haven’t been trying for months to bring that spark back. Is he that oblivious? Is he happy with your lives now? Can he not see how tired you are of this? Of everything?

“Here you go, babe,” Mingyu announces, setting a plate of eggs and hashbrowns in front of you. “Are you sure you don’t want any more?”

“I’m okay,” you respond with a weak smile. “I’m not very hungry.” 

You mumble thanks while you sip your black coffee with sugar and heavy cream, while Mingyu sits across from you with his usual plate of bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. He eats as he reads the latest news on his phone, not paying attention to you as you pick at your food and take small bites. The forecast calls for clear skies and high temperatures, yet winds and dark clouds are outside your window. You chuckle at the irony in this, thinking of the storm that has been brewing in your heart for the past several months. Can you two survive this? Should you even keep trying?

Losing your remaining appetite, you quickly drink your coffee and pack up your breakfast, hoping to eat it later. Outside, the wind picks up, clouds darken, and leaves swirl in circles. You look at Mingyu, wishing he would notice you didn’t finish your food, see the sadness on your face, or hear your broken heart.

“Hey, Gyu,” you call out to him. “Can we have some time for you and me when we get home tonight?”

Mingyu meets your eyes briefly, giving you a kind smile before returning to his phone. “Sure, whatever you want.”

You nod, then go into your shared bedroom and get dressed for the day ahead. With a distracted motion, you pull on a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans, tying your hair into a loose ponytail. You work in an art studio, and you plan to go in and work on your piece for your upcoming art show. It’s supposed to be a piece that showcases love and passion, and yet you are drowning in misery. 

The thunder makes itself known, followed by a lightning strike that hits too close to home. You hear his footsteps trodding in the hallway, barging into the bedroom, and shuffling around in the closet. It was like you weren’t even there.

Your alarm goes off at 8:00 am sharp, the horn blaring from your speakers and filling your large bedroom. Turning it off, you wait, as in any second now, like clockwork, Mingyu would come tumbling out of the closet with his shirt buttoned and his suit jacket barely on, and you would go in and save the day, fixing his tie and handing him his briefcase.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, on routine, planting a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Before you can respond, he is already out of the bedroom, leaving you feeling desolate and cold. The sound of jingling keys echoed down the quiet hallway, a rhythmic clink that grew fainter with each step. You heard the door crank open and shut, confirming that you are once again left alone with your thoughts swirling in your head. There was no love in his exit, nor passion—just a transactional exchange, like has continued to be for several months now. You deserve to feel loved. Valued. Appreciated

And if Mingyu can’t do that, as much as it will hurt, you will leave him.

Mingyu knows you aren’t happy. He saw it in your eyes when he left this morning. The sparkle isn’t there, your glow is gone, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

He knows that he has been neglectful, distracted by work, and he has let it go on long enough. But he's been on a lucky streak with projects and is on track to get the promotion he has been longing for— to give you the life that you have always wanted. But still, seeing the sadness in your eyes makes him feel like shit. He hopes you can hold out for a little bit longer, and it’ll all be worth it. He loves you too damn much.

“Why do you look like your cat died?”

Mingyu spins in his chair and looks at his best friend Wonwoo, a fellow engineer who leans on your desk. They both work at an architectural firm, overseeing a riverfront project that requires him to be in and out of the field. Mingyu has been unofficially leading the project, drawing up blueprints from his office and visiting the site to make sure everything is up to code and to his clients ’ liking. This has led to more hours spent away from home and less time with you, adding more dullness to your lives.

“No one died, man,” he says, throwing a paper ball at Wonwoo. “It’s just some things going on at home with YN.”

“What do you mean?”

Mingyu sighs, looking up at the ceiling as his heart feels heavy. “I can tell she’s not happy. I haven’t exactly been the best boyfriend and available for her. But you know I have been working my ass off trying to get this promotion.”

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything immediately, letting the words sync in. He has never been a man of many words, always listening and observing, a contrast to Mingyu, who is always talking and philosophizing about everything.

“I love her man, you know that,” Mingyu confesses. “ She’s a part of me, you know? There isn’t anyone in the world who gets me like she does. I feel that getting this promotion can help us move out of our apartment and into the life we’ve always talked about. She deserves the world, and I want to take care of her.”

“Do you want my advice?” He finally says.

“No.”

“Well, you’re going to get it anyway, smartass,” Wonwoo quips, swatting him on his arm. “Does she know all of this? How do you feel about her? Why you’ve been working so much?”

“I mean sorta. But I have been so busy with work that I haven’t talked to her as much.”

Wonwoo raises a brow. “You know she can’t read minds, right? Talk to her before you lose her for good.”

Mingyu doesn’t answer. There was nothing else to say. Wonwoo was absolutely right.

“I know,” Mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh. “She asked me this morning to make some time for her tonight. I’m going to talk to her and show her I love her.”

“Good deal,” Wonwoo nods curtly. “Shit, here comes the boss.”

Mingyu heard his boss before she arrived, the sound of her heels tapping on the marble tile with each step. Chloe Kim was every bit the formidable CEO, barely hitting 5’5”, but was sharp, precise, and not afraid to stand up for herself or the firm. Mingyu and Wonwoo stood up instantly as she walked by with her assistant Anna, and it wasn’t lost on him that Chloe had a twinkle in her eye when she looked at him. Chloe has made subtle advances in the past, under the guise of work, of course, but he has always turned them down, as he has you at home. Plus, he doesn’t shit where he eats.

She made her way to the front of their desks, the only thing behind her being the picture windows that overlooked the city.

“Everyone,” Chloe announces, her throaty voice catching everyone’s attention. “I have an announcement to make.”

Mingyu and Wonwoo exchanged glances, folding their arms at the same time as they waited for the news. The chairs being pushed back and the paper being shuffled could be heard briefly before the sound of silence descended. Chloe’s expression did not indicate whether the news was good or bad, and that made him nervous.

“Great job, everyone, on the Riverfront project,” Chloe breaks into a smile. “I have gotten in contact with the owners of the building and the contractors, and they are willing to extend their contracts with us on other projects. Your hard work and professionalism have been attracting potential investors, and we are moving in the right direction. Also, thank you to Mingyu for leading this project like a fearless leader and keeping everyone satisfied.”

Mingyu bows slightly while everyone breaks into applause, his cheeks slightly turning red from the unexpected praise.

“As a thank you,” Chloe continues, her eyes staying on Mingyu. “I am treating everyone to dinner at the Hana Tori Steakhouse tonight. Reservations will start at 6:30 pm. You aren’t required to come, but it would be appreciated if you did.”

Her assistant Anna types on her phone and presses send, with everyone’s computer buzzing with an incoming email. “I have sent the directions to the steakhouse. I will see you all later.”

Chloe strides to her office, with Anna trailing behind her as she types on her phone, the smell of her honeyed perfume trailing behind her. Mingyu feels elated, knowing that his hard work is finally paying off. That promotion will be his in a matter of time, and he can give you the life you have always craved.

“Good job, bro,” Wonwoo praises, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Do you think YN is going to understand about tonight?”

Shit. Tonight. Mingyu realizes he will not be home early enough, and his heart sinks to his chest. He promised, gave his word this morning, that he would give you the time you wanted, his attention that you deserved. It’s going to be another broken promise to you, and he is terrified of losing you. However, if he does not attend this dinner, it will not look good to the rest of the team. 

Fuck, he curses internally.

“I hope she does,” Mingyu mutters. “I’m going to call her now and let her know. Hopefully, she will not be pissed.”

His stomach is filled with anxiety and dread as he steps onto the balcony on his floor, thumbing through his favorites on his phone until he finds your contact and presses send. It rings a few times, and he holds his breath, hoping he wouldn’t have to hear the sadness in your voice when you reneg on your promise once again.

“Hey, babe,” you answer on the last ring. “Everything all right?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, slightly undoing his tie. “We got an extension on some contracts, and the boss said I did a good job leading the team.”

“That’s great, baby,” you cheer through the phone. “I am so proud of you. We have to celebrate tonight!”

“Uh, that’s why I’m calling,” he says slowly, his anxiety picking through him piece by piece. “The boss is treating us to a steak dinner tonight, and it will not look good if I’m not there, so…”

“Oh.”

He waits on bated breath, expecting an explosion of anger and shouting, even though that wasn’t in your nature. The call is silent for a while, and he is sure you have disconnected until he looks at his screen and sees you are still there.

“Fine,” you finally say, letting out a deep sigh. “I’ll see you later then.”

You hang up before he can respond, and he slumps on the chair, leaning his forehead on his phone. He would have preferred that you curse at him, scream, or do something that was deserving. Hearing the deflated joy that left your voice felt like a punch in the gut. Mingyu knows that you have been trying to spend time together for months, and he has just been too busy. He’s a shitty partner; he knows that. But he loves you more than anything, and he hopes he can convey that to you tonight.

It’s a quarter before 8, and Mingyu sits near the end of a long table surrounded by coworkers at the steakhouse who are half a glass too deep into company-sponsored alcohol. He sips his whisky slowly, looking at his phone every few minutes, hoping to see a notification from you, whether it's a text or a phone call. Instead, he just sees his lockscreen of you and him, kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. The guilt was building in his chest. 

Wonwoo mouths if he is good from across the table, and he nods solemnly, finishing the last of his whiskey in his cup. 

“Are we done?” Chloe asks smoothly, pointing at your empty cup. “Do you want some more?”

“No, boss, I’m good,” he shook his head. “I still have to get home in one piece.” 

“On a Friday night?” she chuckles, her blouse brushing against his forearm. “Surely you can let loose for a little bit, right?”

“Eh—”

“To the man of the hour,” she raises her glass. “I meant what I said earlier. You carried that project with elegance. And vision.”

“Thank you,” he replies, trying to keep it light. “It was a team effort.”

Chloe smiles, eyes locking on his. “Don’t be modest. You’ve got more than talent, Mingyu. You’ve got presence.”

Mingyu lets out a chuckle, playing with his glass. “My girlfriend at home thinks the same thing.”

He notices her falter, just for a moment, scooting back slightly and knocking back another glass of wine. “Lucky her.” 

“Lucky me, actually,” Mingyu says absentmindedly. 

“You never talk about your girlfriend, Mingyu,” his colleague, Hana, chimes in. “Can we see a picture of her?” 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, showing another picture of you before handing it over. It was a picture he took of you last summer when you weren’t looking. You walked barefoot in the sand, walking towards the water towards a hidden cove that he discovered randomly on a work project. You looked relaxed, carefree, and at peace. It’s his favorite version of you.  

“God, Mingyu, she is beautiful,” Hana says, blinking. “How long have you been together?”

Mingyu hesitates, his thumb still on the screen, watching the light of the image flicker in the reflection of his glass. “Almost 10 years. We met in college.”

The number tastes heavier than he expected. He’s shared his life with you for over 10 years. The good, the bad, and sometimes ugly. 

“That’s a long time,” Hana acknowledges, handing the phone back. “It must be nice, having someone in your life for that long.” 

“It’s the best,” Mingyu reminisces. “She is the best.”

He meant every word. You are the best thing that has ever happened to him. Ever since you walked into the Survey of Art History in college, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He noticed the way you tapped your pencil on your lip when you were lost in thought or the way your nose wiggled when you laughed. He wanted to know you and be in your orbit one way or another. You were mesmerizing to him; the Galatea to his Pygmalion. When he finally worked up the nerve to talk to you and started hanging out more, he even told you that. You didn’t laugh or think he was being silly or melodramatic. Instead, you kissed him heartfeltedly, and told him you felt the connection too. 

You always believed in him, saw him for who he was, and he would be crazy to let you slip away from him. 

Mingyu and Wonwoo exchange a glance, unspoken words from his best friend that only meant one thing: Go home to your girl. 

“I’m going to head out, guys,” Mingyu announces, pushing out his chair and grabbing his coat. “Thank you for treating us, Chloe. And great job, everyone. Have a good weekend.”

There are a few scattered goodbyes as he walks out the door, Chloe not saying anything but watching him with unreadable eyes. Outside, the night air is cool, a light breeze brushing his cheeks as he unlocks his car. He checks the time—8:06 PM. He taps open his messages and sends one to you: 

Dinner rang later than I thought. Be there soon. I love you.

He puts the phone down, starts the car, and pulls away from the glowing steakhouse windows—chasing, for once, the thing that matters most.

It’s after nine, and you finally decide to stop waiting for him, resolving to shower and go to bed. You still cooked his favorite meal, braised ribs, hoping that he would somehow come home early, and you could finally talk. Be centered with one another. Figure out what is going on in that head of his. But once again, you are left alone, having to pick up the pieces of your already fragile relationship.

Where did you go wrong? This isn’t the Mingyu you fell in love with, or the life you both promised to each other. You used to talk to each other, hold hands just because, kiss because he wanted to feel his lips against yours, or touch in the ways you both craved. Did you do something wrong? Are you not pretty enough? Is there someone else who is taking up the space in his heart that was supposed to be yours? You feel the crevice of your heart break at the very thought.

With a resigned breath, you gathered the leftover food, its fragrant steam curling upward as you carefully ladled it into neat containers. You glanced at the empty chair across the table, imagining him there. With gentle hands, you set aside a portion just for him, wrapping it in a colorful napkin, your fingers lingering for a moment over the fabric. Maybe he’ll see your sincerity then, or at least appreciate that you care about him enough to make sure he eats every day.

Mingyu used to cook for you all the time, and you still remember the first meal he prepared for you. You love pasta, and one day, you told him that your favorite meal was something simple: spaghetti and meatballs. You're a hopeless romantic; you’ve seen Lady and the Tramp a thousand times, and as a little girl, you always wanted to experience a love like that. You told Mingyu about it, who thought it was adorable, and you didn’t think much of it. But the next weekend, he invited you over to his place and made your childhood dream come true—a candlelight dinner with spaghetti and meatballs, with the movie playing on the screen for you to watch when you were finished.

You fell in love with him that night.

You wish you could get back to that.

The bathroom light casts a faint glow when you walk into your bedroom, a reminder that you forgot to turn it off earlier when you came home. You look at your bed, spacious and yet empty, mirroring the way you’ve been feeling lately. You let out a low laugh, finding humor in the irony of this situation. As much as you want it to be, this house is not a home.

You turn on the shower, letting it be as hot as you can handle, as you slowly slip out of your clothes. Stepping into the stall, you stand under the water with your eyes closed, letting it hit your skin, allowing it to drown out the loud thoughts in your head and the pounding of your heart in your ears. You were born in the summer, and you have always felt a deep connection to water, especially the ocean. For the first time today, you experienced a sense of peace.

Slowly opening your eyes, you are met with a familiar figure unbuttoning a light blue shirt and letting it fall to the floor. Rubbing your eyes softly, your vision clears, and you confront the source of your heartache.

“Mingyu,” you breathe. “I thought I was expecting you later.”

“I came as soon as I could,” he says, continuing to undress. “The dinner ran longer than I thought it would.”

“That seems to be a recurring theme lately,” you mutter. You grab the soap and start to lather, washing over your body. “I made you dinner anyway. You can take it with you to work tomorrow.”

Mingyu pauses, your icy demeanor catching him off guard as you intended. You turn your back towards him, attempting to finish your shower without breaking down. You hear the door open, and you feel his presence and warmth wrapped around your waist. He kisses your neck, holding on to you like his life were on the line. This is the closet that you've been in together in months, and your walls are tumbling down. You miss it, crave it, and you slowly feel the sadness uncurling from your skin.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says tenderly. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend, and you don’t deserve that.”

“You’re awfully perceptive,” you sniff, holding back your tears. “A simple sorry doesn’t fix things. Mingyu. I’m tired.”

“Baby, I know,” he agrees, turning you around to face him. “I’ve been caught up at work, working long hours, trying to get this promotion, and I know I haven’t been here much. But once it happens, I will give you the world and everything you want. I love you.”

“Gyu,” you sigh heavily. “It’s not about wanting things. I have things, I can always get things. I want YOU. Our life back, the connection we used to have.” You place his hand on your heart, hoping he could feel it beating heavily in his hands. “Don’t you miss this? Miss me? This is the most we have spoken to each other in months. That’s not okay.”

You didn’t intend to cry. You wanted to hold it together and give him a piece of your mind, to unleash the hurt and displeasure that you have felt in this relationship for so long. But instead, you sobbed, letting him hold you close as your water gates broke and your chest heaved. He kisses your forehead and holds you close, his hands caressing your back, giving you the comfort you've wanted for so long. It brings you back to the happier times, when you had him unconditionally.

“I want to get back to us,” you sniffle. “The way we used to be. We used to talk all the time, and we were one and the same. I know you’re busy, and I get that this promotion is important to you, but what happened to us? How do we get that back, Gyu?”

“I will be more present,” Mingyu avows, moving your wet hair from your face. “Anything you want to talk about, I’ll be available. If you need me to be anywhere, I’m there. If you need me to hold you, I’m in your arms. I love you so damn much.”

He kisses your lips unexpectedly, deeply, and with a need that makes your knees buckle. But you kissed him back, returning his vigour with all your might, walking him until his back hits the shower walls. His hands ravenously caress your body, finding your derriere and giving it a nice squeeze. You moan in his mouth, your tongue playing with his as it fuels your carnal desire for him even more.

“I need you, Gyu,” you purr, looking into his eyes. “Please, take me.”

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

He slowly bends down, your breath hitching as he becomes face to face with your creamy center. Lifting your leg over his shoulder, he kisses your thighs, trailing his kisses dangerously close to your nectar, aching for it to be touched.

“Do you want me here?” He whispers, placing a wet kiss on your thigh.

“Mmhmm,” you nod fervently, your hands grabbing his hair.

“Use your words, baby,” he coos, licking his lips. “What do you want?”

“Your mouth, baby. I need it.”

You feel him grin against your thigh, giving it a small bite that feels electric. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He blessed you with his lips, kissing your clit with a reverence that made your entire body jolt. The sensation is overwhelming, not just because of the way he is touching you, but because of how present he is. How his eyes stay locked on yours, how his hands grip your thighs, his nails slightly digging into your skin like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go.

Soft moans escape your lips, your fingers curling in his hair, grounding yourself in him — in the warmth, the pressure, the way he moves like he knows every part of you.

Your head tipped back as he gave you more, his tongue lapping your juices with no rush, like he has all the time in the world to unravel you.

“Just like that,” you whimper. “Please don’t stop.”

His voice was low, almost a growl. “Never.”

He slips a finger inside of you, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head when he inserts another, your hips slowly whining with the rhythm he sets. Despite this lewd act, he looks at you with love, those puppy dog eyes telling you he’s sorry more than his words can, and he is going to please you until you believe him.

“You look so fucking angelic,” he murmurs, teasing your clit with his tongue. “I’d do anything for you, you know that, right?”

You bite your lip, unable to form a sentence as he increases the pace, your arousal coating his fingers as you let out broken moans. You’ve entered into a state of delirium, unable to hold back as the pleasure coils tightly in your stomach, winding and winding until it finally snaps. A cry tears from your throat as you fall over the edge, your back arching off the wall, his name mewls from your lips while he eats you with a fervor that leaves you breathless. He doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied, leaving you with one last lick before he slowly lets down your trembling leg.

When he finally rises, his face is flushed, lips glistening, eyes soft with something that almost feels like love— the way he used to look at you.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “I promise to do better. Don’t give up on me.”

You want to believe him, you really do. Because in this moment, wrapped in the warmth of his body and the aftershocks of pleasure, he feels like the Mingyu you first fell in love with. Present. Gentle. All in.

“Are you still up for giving me some time tonight?” You kiss him softly.

“Of course, babe,” Mingyu says, grabbing your soap and the sponge, rewashing you. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

It was more like you cleaned each other up, the comfort in silence meaning more than any conversation that could have been said. You let yourself hope—just a little, that he actually heard you, and things could change.

He leaves the bathroom before you do, promising to spend some time with you, and you begin your nightly routine, your heart swelling with a little more joy. You keep replaying the moment in the shower, where you connected with him, felt his sincerity, and your love for him deepened. You feel like you finally got your lover back.

It wasn’t even twenty minutes when you finished, coming out of the bathroom expecting him to be sitting up in bed and waiting for you with open arms. But instead, you stare at him with furrowed brows, finding him already asleep, clinging to the pillow that was meant to be yours.

Your heart sinks.

All the hope and ideas that you had for the rest of the night deflate out of you like a balloon. Another promise broken by Mingyu, color you shocked. Shaking your head, you slip into the other side of the bed, the anger you thought you had dissipated earlier rearing its ugly head again, stirring something deep within you. Did he think one fleeting moment where you had to beg to be loved like you wanted was enough to be forgiven and forgotten?

You curl towards the edge of the mattress and press your hands to your ears, trying to drown out the voices in your head, screaming at you to leave. Tonight was supposed to be a turning point, but somehow, it feels like the end.

Part 2

Thank you for reading <3 I would love to know what your thoughts are on this part of the series 🥺

taglist: @asasilentreader @dibidibidismynameisleeknow @shadowkoo @gyupremacy @superpietom @junplusone @cheolifyme @lovetaroandtaemin

[xomakara]

Caught Between | Lee Jeno, Na Jaemin

SUMMARY |  Your trio—you, Jeno, and Jaemin—has always been effortless. But as adulthood hits and feelings shift, the balance becomes fragile. Both men start acting differently, and when the truth comes out, you’re forced to confront what you’ve been avoiding: You don’t want to lose either of them.

PAIRINGS |  Jeno x fem!reader x Jaemin 

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE | smut, friends to lovers, threesome

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  non-idols au, profanity/strong language, childhood friends turn lovers, confessions, slight angst, threesome, fingering, oral sex (both male/female receiving/giving), double penetrative sex (vaginal/anal), unprotective sex (wrap it up folks!), dirty talk, praising, pet names, hair grabbing, creampies

LENGTH |  6,304 words

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @keopihaus @cosyhomenet @neocity-net

TAGLIST |  (join my perm taglist here)

@lovetaroandtaemin @livelaughloveseventeen @oshonestarr @j3nnch3ls3a @Baddie1278900 @unholywriters @jaehunnyy @ohmytyong

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi, enjoy, and goodbye.

NCT Main Masterlist

"I love you."

When you turn to look at Jeno, you thought he was playing a joke on you, but the look on his face wasn't a playful one. He looked scared, nervous, but hopeful. "W-what did you say?"

He looks at Jaemin, who was standing behind him, looking a little nervous as well. "I said that I love you."

You feel your cheeks getting warmer and you look over at Jaemin.

He gives you a soft smile and walks over to stand beside Jeno. "So do I, actually," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Have been for awhile."

When Jaemin suggested that the three of you take a vacation from your workplaces and go on a road trip together, you were all for it. And you were even more excited when you found out that he had rented a really nice RV, complete with a bedroom, kitchenette, and bathroom. You had packed everything you needed, including enough food and drinks to last the entire trip, and were ready to go.

The whole idea behind this trip was so that you, Jeno, and Jaemin could reconnect after being busy with work. Jeno had been busy with his bar, which had been taking off in recent months, and Jaemin had been stuck in a pool non-stop, but that's what happens when you're a coach for a high school swim team. You yourself had been a little busy, working your way up the ranks at your corporate office job.

Jeno and Jaemin were already thick as thieves when you met them in middle school. Your family had just moved into the neighborhood and you were so nervous about starting school in a new place. But on your first day, the two of them welcomed you warmly and made you feel at home. You became fast friends, and before you knew it, a duo became a trio. You three were always together, going to school, hanging out after school, and then doing whatever on the weekends.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. Your feelings for them changed. You couldn't explain it, you just...fell for them. Hard. But the two of them never saw you like that, at least you thought they didn't. They dated around and always had a girlfriend, and you were the one always watching them. Watching them from the side, and sometimes wishing that it was you.

Now, as the three of you stood in the tiny kitchenette, you felt awkward. Jeno and Jaemin were acting weird throughout this whole trip, and it was beginning to get on your nerves. They were quieter than normal and were constantly looking at you when they thought you weren't looking. They weren't touching you like they usually would, either, no more head pats or arms wrapped around your shoulders. It was almost like they were trying to keep their distance from you, and you had no idea why.

And when the RV stopped at an unoccupied campground, you cornered them both in the small space and demanded what was going on. You never imagined being confessed to by the both of them at the same time.

"What?" you say, dumbfounded. You're not sure how long you had stood there, frozen, not knowing what to say.

"So, which one of us are you going to choose?" Jaemin asks.

"I-I," you're still unsure how to react, "You're joking with me, right? This is a joke, isn't it?" You're trying to laugh it off, hoping that this is a big joke and they'll break character soon. But neither of them move. Neither of them even crack a smile. "Jeno? Jaemin? You're messing with me, right?"

They're still silent. Your heart is beating out of your chest, your throat goes dry. "This is a joke, right?" your voice trembles. "Guys?"

"No," Jeno speaks softly, his eyes cast down to the floor, "It's not."

Your head is spinning, and you're having trouble breathing. The RV starts to feel small, the walls are closing in. It's silent, aside from your heavy breathing, the only sound filling the room.

"Say something, please." Jaemin whispers. "Y/N, please."

What can you say? Your best friends of many years have just confessed their love for you, and they're expecting an answer, but what are you supposed to say? How can you even begin to tell them how you're feeling right now?

"I don't know," you finally say.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Jeno asks.

"I mean, I don't know what to say." You feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. "You both just confessed your feelings for me, and I don't know how to respond."

"We understand if you don't feel the same way," Jaemin says. "But we wanted you to know how we felt. We didn't want to keep it a secret anymore."

"We know it's a lot to process, but we're here for you," Jeno says, reaching out to grab your hand. You flinch at his touch and when you look at Jeno, his face drops a little.

"I need some time to think," you say, taking a step back. "I need to figure this out, I'm sorry." You turn and quickly leave the RV.

You walk down the path, not knowing where you're going, and not caring. You just need to get away. Away from the guys, away from their confession, away from the confusing feelings they're making you feel.

"Y/N! Wait!"

You hear Jeno calling for you, and it only makes you walk faster. But before you can get too far, a pair of strong hands grab you by the arm and spins you around. You come face-to-face with Jeno, his expression full of concern.

"Where are you going?" he asks, his voice a little breathless from running after you.

"I-I don't know," you admit, trying to pull your arm from his grasp. But he holds firm. "Let go of me, Jeno."

"No, not until you talk to me." His voice is pleading. "Y/N, please."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"This!" you say, motioning between the two of you. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing what?" Jeno repeats, his eyes searching yours. "Y/N, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Everything is wrong," you cry, feeling the tears start to flow. You see Jaemin running up behind Jeno, but you're so overcome with emotions that you don't care. "You and Jaemin, telling me how you feel, it's all wrong."

"How is that wrong?" Jaemin asks as stands next to you.

"Because!"

"Because why?" he asks.

"Because I've been in love with both of you for years," you yell, your voice echoing off the trees. You let out a sob and bury your face in your hands. "And now, you're making me choose, and I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt either of you, but I can't choose between you. So, why are you making me choose?"

You feel strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You cling to the person, burying your face in their shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. You hear voices speaking, but you're too upset to pay attention.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Jeno says, his voice close to your ear. "We didn't know. We never would have done this if we knew."

"It's not fair," you cry, still clinging to him. "I'm so tired of watching the two of you go through girls and I'm left alone, watching. And when I entertain the thoughts of having either of you, I'm just hit with the reality that it's never going to happen. That if I'm with one of you, then our friendship is ruined and I'm not willing to risk that. But now, I'm faced with the reality that I can't have either of you."

"Why do you think you can't have us?" Jaemin softly asks.

"Because I'm afraid of what will happen if I do."

"What are you talking about?" Jeno asks, gently pushing you away from him and holding your face between his hands, forcing you to look at him. "Why would anything change?"

"Because relationships change things, Jeno." You feel yourself tearing up again. "What if you one of you get tired of me? What if you change your mind and realize that you don't actually love me? What if you stop wanting to hang out with me? Stop talking to me? What if..."

"Hey, hey," Jaemin interrupts you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly. "Stop, okay? Just stop. We're not going anywhere, we're not going to change, and we're not going to stop wanting to be around you. And besides, none of those 'what ifs' are going to happen because we're not going to leave you. Ever. And we're certainly not going to stop loving you."

"But...I don't understand," you say, shaking your head.

"Let's take the rest of this trip to just… be together." Jeno says, rubbing the tears from your cheeks. "No decisions. No pressure."

You stare at him, not quite understanding what he's saying. "What are you suggesting?" you ask, wiping your eyes.

"Let's just enjoy the rest of the trip," he says. "Spend time together, have fun, and at the end of the trip, we'll sit down and talk. Just the three of us. Okay? And we'll figure this out."

You look over at Jaemin, and he gives you a reassuring smile and nods. "We don't have to decide anything now," he says. "Let's just...be together, like Jeno said."

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and nod. "Okay," you say, giving a small smile. "I think I can do that."

Jaemin lets out a sigh of relief and Jeno wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. You return the hug, burying your face in his neck and letting yourself relax. You feel Jaemin's arms wrap around both of you and the three of you stand there, embracing each other.

As the week goes on, the three of you get back into the groove of things. You spend the days exploring, hiking, and sightseeing. You enjoy the fresh air and the beautiful scenery, and you even go canoeing on the lake nearby. Jeno and Jaemin keep the conversations light and playful, and the tension from the RV confession melts away.

But at night, when it's just the three of you in the bedroom, the air is charged. You can feel it in the way Jeno and Jaemin watch you, the way their eyes linger on your body, the way their touches last a bit longer. You feel yourself getting warmer every time they look at you, and you're pretty sure they can hear your heartbeat.

You try to ignore the tension, telling yourself that it's nothing, that it's just your imagination. But every night, when the lights go out, you can't help but wonder what would happen if you gave in. If you let yourself go, and just...let it happen. You lie awake, listening to the sound of Jeno and Jaemin breathing, and you think about what it would be like. What would it be like to have their hands on you, their mouths on you, their bodies pressed against yours? What would it be like to have both of them at the same time?

You toss and turn, unable to sleep, the thoughts racing through your head. You're frustrated, and the tension is building inside you, threatening to explode.

"Can't sleep, Y/N?" Jaemin whispers, rolling over onto his side, his head propped up on his elbow.

"No," you say, your voice soft. "I can't."

"Me neither," he says, his eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, feeling your heart race, and your palms get sweaty. The tension is growing, and you're not sure if you can take it anymore. You feel yourself trembling, and your breath is coming out in short pants.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his brows knitting together in concern.

"No," you whisper, barely able to speak.

"What's wrong?" Jeno asks, rolling onto his side and mirroring Jaemin.

"I can't take this anymore," you say, your voice breaking. "The tension is killing me. I can't sleep, I can't think, I can't do anything. It's driving me crazy."

"What tension?" Jaemin asks, his voice low and husky.

"You know what I'm talking about," you say, looking between the two of them. "Don't pretend like you don't."

Jeno and Jaemin share a look, and a smile tugs at the corner of their lips. "So, what are you going to do about it?" Jeno asks, his voice dropping even lower.

"I...I don't know," you reply, your own voice faltering.

"Maybe," Jaemin starts, "you should do something about it."

You feel your cheeks getting hot and your heart rate quickening. "What?"

"Do something about it," he says, leaning in closer. "If the tension is driving you crazy, then do something about it."

Your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, and you feel yourself trembling. You're not sure if it's from the tension, or if it's from his closeness.

"Do something, Y/N," Jaemin repeats, his eyes darkening. "Before I do."

You swallow hard, your breath hitching in your throat.

"Go ahead," Jeno whispers, his eyes boring into yours. "Kiss him."

You hesitate, not sure if this is really happening. But before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean forward, closing the gap between you and Jaemin. His lips are soft and warm against yours, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. He kisses you back, slowly at first, then more urgently. Your hands find their way into his hair, and you tug at the strands. He groans, and the sound sends shivers down your spine.

You break apart, breathing heavily, and stare at each other. Your heart is pounding, and your skin is on fire.

"Now kiss me," Jeno says, his voice low and commanding.

You turn towards him, and he cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. He leans in, capturing your lips with his. His kiss is different than Jaemin's, but no less passionate. He's gentle, but demanding, and his tongue slides along yours. You feel your knees buckle, and you grasp onto him for support.

You pull back, panting, and look at both of them. Their eyes are dark, their pupils dilated, and their chests are rising and falling rapidly. You feel dizzy, and your mind is spinning. "What now?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

"Whatever you want, kitten," Jaemin says, his voice thick with desire.

"Whatever you want, princess," Jeno says, his gaze never leaving yours.

You shiver at their pet names, feeling a rush of heat pool in your belly. You don't know what to say but you definitely know what you want to do. Sitting up in bed, you pull your shirt over your head and throw it aside. You're not sure who moves first, but suddenly, you're back flat on your back and Jeno and Jaemin are hovering over you, their faces inches from yours.

"Are you sure about this, baby?" Jaemin whispers, his voice deep and husky.

"Yes," you reply, nodding vigorously.

"If at any point you want to stop, just say so," Jeno says. "Promise us."

"I promise," you say, smiling softly.

"Good girl," Jeno murmurs, before lowering his lips to yours.

Jaemin starts trailing kisses down your neck, while Jeno devours your lips. You moan as their hands explore your body, sending jolts of pleasure through you. You can feel Jaemin's hands tugging at the waistband of your shorts, and Jeno's fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra. The two of them make quick work of the rest of your clothes, tossing them aside without a care. Their eyes roam over your exposed body, their gazes hungry and predatory.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Y/N," Jeno mutters, his voice hoarse.

"Gorgeous," Jaemin agrees, his hands trailing along your sides.

You can feel your face heating up under their scrutiny, and you bite your lip nervously.

"Are you okay, baby?" Jaemin asks, his hand stilling.

"It's not fair if I'm the only one who's naked here," you reply, reaching out and tugging at his shirt.

Jaemin smiles and sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside. His bare chest is toned and muscular, and you can't help but admire the view. Jeno sits up as well, quickly stripping off his own shirt, and your eyes roam over his equally muscular body.

"Happy now?" Jeno asks, a smirk on his lips.

You nod, unable to form words. It's not like you never saw them shirtless before, but seeing them like this, doing this with you, it's a whole new experience.

Jaemin leans in and captures your lips, his tongue swiping across the seam of your mouth. You moan as his hands move to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. "God, your tits are perfect," he growls, his eyes darkening.

You gasp as his mouth moves to suck on your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. Jeno's hand moves between your legs, his fingers dipping into your wetness.

"Fuck, you're so wet for us, princess," he groans, his eyes never leaving yours. He adds a second finger, stretching you, and you cry out as his thumb circles your clit. "You like that?"

"Yes," you pant, arching your back.

Jaemin switches to your other breast, lavishing it with attention, while Jeno's fingers continue their assault. The sensations are overwhelming, and you feel like you're about to burst.

"Jeno, Jaemin," you moan, their names falling from your lips. You watch as Jeno settles between your legs, his mouth inches from where his fingers are. You gasp as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

"Do you want me to eat your pussy, princess?" Jeno asks, his voice dripping with lust.

"Yes, please," you whimper, your hips bucking against his hand.

Jeno smiles and leans in, his tongue replacing his fingers. You cry out as his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking and licking. Jaemin kisses his way up your neck, his lips capturing yours once more. You tangle your fingers in his hair, kissing him back with fervor. His hand trails down your stomach, joining Jeno's between your legs.

Jeno licks a broad stripe up your slit before focusing on your clit, alternating between sucking and circling it with his tongue. Jaemin slips a finger inside you, then another, curling them up to hit that spot deep within you. "Does that feel good, baby?" he murmurs, nipping at your ear.

"Yes," you gasp, unable to form any other words.

"Tell us what you want, princess," Jeno says, pulling away and sitting back on his heels. His lips and chin are glistening with your juices.

"I want you both," you moan, looking between them.

"Both of us, huh?" Jeno teases, his eyes dancing.

"At the same time?" Jaemin whispers, his tongue flicking over your earlobe.

"Y-yes," you stammer, your breath hitching.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised," Jeno chuckles, his fingers skimming down your spine.

"We've had the same thought," Jaemin murmurs, his lips tracing the curve of your jaw.

"You've...what?" You can barely form a coherent thought as their hands and mouths explore every inch of your body.

"Mm, we've talked about it," Jeno says, his voice husky. "About how we've both wanted you."

"And how we've wanted to share you," Jaemin adds, his lips brushing against yours.

"Share?" Your heart is pounding, and your brain is trying to process what they're saying.

"About how good you'd look, between the two of us," Jaemin whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"About how good it would feel," Jeno continues.

"About us fucking you," Jaemin says, his hand trailing down your stomach. "Having you cum around our cocks." Jaemin's hand continues lower, until his fingers are sliding through your slick folds. You moan as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles. "God, you're so wet for us, babe," he says, his lips curving into a wicked grin. "Were you this wet when Jeno went down on you?"

"She was," Jeno says, his hand reaching around to cup your breast. "She was practically dripping."

"You liked that, didn't you, baby?" Jaemin asks, his eyes fixed on yours.

"Y-yes," you stutter, biting back a moan as his fingers curl inside you.

"Did it feel good when he ate your pussy, baby?" Jaemin continues, his voice dropping lower.

"Y-yes," you repeat, unable to form any other words.

"Do you want me to eat your pussy, Y/N?" Jaemin whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

"God, yes," you moan, your hips bucking against his hand. Jaemin gives you a smirk, before kissing his way down your body.

Jeno leaves the bed momentarily, tugging off his pants and briefs before coming back. He settles near your head, cock in hand, stroking it slowly. "Suck my cock, princess," he says, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.

You swallow hard and nod, opening your mouth and letting him slide his cock between your lips. He's so big and thick that you can barely take him, but you manage to take half of him into your mouth.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," he groans, his hands tangling in your hair.

Jaemin's mouth reaches your center and his tongue laps at your clit. You moan around Jeno's cock, the sensation overwhelming.

"Yeah, that's it, baby," Jeno says, his hips bucking forward, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. "Just like that."

You bob your head up and down his length, your hand wrapping around the base. Jaemin's tongue continues its assault, licking and sucking at your sensitive nub. His fingers join in, pumping in and out of you, curling and hitting that sweet spot. You reach to grab at his hair, needing something to hold on to.

Your moans and whimpers are muffled by Jeno's cock, and he groans as the vibrations travel through him. "Fuck, you're so good at this, baby," he murmurs, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."

Jaemin's tongue flicks against your clit, faster and harder, and his fingers pump into you faster. Your moans grow louder, and your hips buck against his mouth.

"Are you gonna cum, princess?" Jeno asks, his cock continuing its assault on your mouth.

"Yeah, baby, are you gonna cum on my tongue?" Jaemin growls, his mouth never leaving your center.

"Mmhm," you moan, unable to form actual words.

"Then cum for us, Y/N," Jeno murmurs, his hips thrusting harder. "Cum for us."

With his words, you fall apart, crying out as your orgasm washes over you. Jaemin keeps licking and sucking, drawing out the pleasure. You shudder and whimper, your body twitching. Jeno pulls out of your mouth, giving you a moment to breathe. He's hard and throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the tip. You look up at him, knowing that he wants to cum, too.

"Can I have it?" you ask, your voice raspy.

"Have what, princess?" he replies, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Your cum," you reply, blushing.

"Fuck," he groans, his hand tightening around his cock. "Oh, you'll have my cum when I'm balls deep inside you, princess."

Jaemin climbs off the bed, Jeno moving into his place. Jaemin is taking the rest of his clothes off, while Jeno lines up his cock with your entrance.

"Jeno, please," you whine, needing him to fill you.

"Please what, princess?" he teases, running the tip of his cock through your wetness.

"Please fuck me," you say, grinding your hips against his.

"Since you asked so nicely," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs.

You gasp as his cock slides into you, filling you to the hilt. He pauses, letting you adjust to his size, before beginning to thrust. His movements are slow and steady, but soon he's slamming into you, making the bed creak.

Jaemin stands at the side of the bed, watching the two of you. His hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking himself in time with Jeno's thrusts. "God, that's so fucking hot," he growls, his eyes locked on where Jeno's cock is sliding in and out of you.

"Mmm, it feels so good, Jaemin," you moan.

You're eyeing his cock, and he notices. "What is it, baby? Do you want my cock, too?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, "Want you to fuck my mouth."

"Jesus, Y/N," Jaemin mutters, his hand tightening around his shaft. "Keep talking like that and you'll get anything you want."

"Please," you moan, Jeno withdrawing temporarily to reposition you on all fours. He slides into you again, and Jaemin positions himself in front of you.

"Open wide, baby," Jaemin says, his eyes dark and hungry. "Let me fuck that pretty little mouth."

You open your mouth, letting him slide his cock in between your lips. He's big, too, and you struggle to take him. He doesn't push, though, allowing you to set the pace. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, moaning around him.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he groans, his fingers tangling in your hair.

Jeno's thrusts become harder, his hips slapping against yours. The sounds of skin slapping skin and the three of you moaning fill the room. "So fucking tight, princess," Jeno grunts, his hands gripping your hips.

You try to moan, but the sound is muffled by Jaemin's cock in your mouth. Your eyes roll back as Jeno hits a particularly good spot, his cock brushing against your G-spot. "Yeah, you like that, baby?" he murmurs, one of his hands coming down to spank your ass.

"Mmhm," you whimper, trying to speak with Jaemin's cock still in your mouth.

"Good girl," he says, his fingers digging into your skin. "Such a good girl."

Jeno's thrusts grow faster, his hips slapping against yours. Your bodies move together in perfect rhythm, each of you chasing your own pleasure.

Jaemin's hand tightens in your hair, his hips thrusting into your mouth. He groans as his cock hits the back of your throat, and his movements become more erratic. "Can't wait to cum down your pretty throat, baby," he growls.

The sensation of having them both is almost too much, and you feel your second orgasm building. You moan around Jaemin's cock, the vibrations sending a shiver through him.

"Yeah, that's it, baby," Jeno says, his voice low and husky. "I'm so fucking close."

His hips snap against yours, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you. You cry out, the pleasure overwhelming, and your orgasm rips through you. Your body convulses, your muscles contracting, and your eyes roll back in your head.

"Fuck, that's it," Jaemin groans, his thrusts growing more frantic. "Cum on Jeno's cock, baby."

Your walls clench around Jeno's cock, the pressure becoming too much for him. He thrusts once, twice, then buries himself inside you, spilling his seed. "Fuck, I'm cumming," he moans, his cock pulsing.

Jaemin's thrusts grow harder, his cock sliding deeper down your throat. You gag around him, the sensation sending him over the edge. He grunts as his cock twitches, cum shooting down your throat. "Fucking swallow it all, baby," he groans, his grip on your hair tightening.

You do, your cheeks hollowing as you suck him dry. He finally pulls out, his cock slipping from between your lips.

Jeno slowly withdraws from you, his spent cock sliding out. You collapse onto the bed, exhausted, but Jaemin grabs your hips, pulling you atop him. "We're not done yet, baby," he growls, lining up his cock with your entrance. "Now it's my turn."

"O-oh," you gasp, as he thrusts into you. You're still filled to the brim with Jeno's cum but he doesn't seem to mind.

"The thought of another man's cum dripping out of your pussy turns me on," he mutters, his hips slamming into yours. "It makes it even better knowing that it's Jeno's cum."

"Fuck, Jaemin," you moan, his cock hitting a spot deep inside you.

He chuckles, his fingers digging into your hips. "I can't believe how lucky we are, Jeno."

"Hmm, yes. Look at her, she's so fucking beautiful like this," Jeno murmurs, his eyes roaming over your body before finally settling on your ass.

Jaemin reaches around to smack it, the sting making you cry out. "That's it, baby. You like that, don't you?"

"Yes," you moan, unable to form any other words.

"Has anyone else touched you here?" Jeno asks, his voice dark and heavy as he palms your ass. "Have you played with yourself back here?"

You could only nod, and the boys' eyes flashed.

"Tell us, kitten," Jaemin rasped, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Tell us about the last time you played with yourself."

You felt yourself blush, but there was no going back now. "I... I've used my fingers," you whispered, averting your eyes. "A butt plug once, too."

"Fuck, that's hot," Jeno growled, his hand reaching out to caress your ass.

"Did you think about us when you did it?" Jaemin asked, his fingers tracing along the curve of your jaw as he thrust up into you.

"Y-yes," you admitted, the blush on your face deepening.

"Did you fantasize about us taking turns fucking your tight little ass?" Jeno murmured, his lips trailing along your shoulder.

"Oh God," you moaned, the idea sending a fresh wave of arousal through you.

"I can tell you like the sound of that," Jaemin said, a smirk on his lips. "Maybe Jeno and I can give you a little taste right now, hmm?"

"Wh-what?" you stuttered, your eyes widening.

"Oh, yeah. I think you'd like that, kitten," he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"You'd love having both of our cocks inside you at the same time, wouldn't you, princess?" Jeno's lips were right next to your ear, his breath warm on your skin.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, the image making your heart pound.

"Do you want that, baby?" Jaemin asked, his hips slowing their thrusts. "Do you want us both to fuck you at the same time?"

You could only nod, not trusting your voice.

"Tell us," Jeno growled, his finger pressing against the puckered entrance of your ass.

"Y-yes," you finally whispered. "Please Jeno. Fuck my ass."

"Good girl," Jaemin murmured, his lips brushing against yours.

You moan as he captures your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue swiping across the seam. You don't know where the lube came from, but suddenly you feel the slickness of it against your skin. You can feel Jeno's fingers circling your ass, slowly pushing inside. The sensation is strange, but not unwelcome.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, as his fingers pump in and out of your ass.

"Are you ready, princess?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Yes," you reply, barely a whisper.

"Good girl," he growls, slowly pressing the tip of his cock against your ass. You gasp as the head slips in, stretching you.

"Breathe, kitten," Jaemin soothes, his fingers lightly stroking your cheek. "Just relax."

Jeno takes it slow, giving you time to adjust. His cock is big, and you feel the stretch and burn as he slowly pushes inside. The feeling is different from using a butt plug—this is real, and it's happening, and it's Jeno.

"Fuck, that's tight," Jeno grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. "You alright, princess?"

"Yes," you whimper, your body trembling. "Jeno, move."

He obliges, slowly rocking his hips. The feeling is strange, but not unpleasant. He moves at an excruciatingly slow pace, letting you adjust to the sensation.

Jaemin's fingers trail down your spine, his touch soothing. "You're doing so well, kitten," he murmurs, his eyes raking over your body.

"Feels...different," you manage to say, the sensations overwhelming. "Feels good."

"I'm glad, baby," he whispers, leaning in to kiss you. His tongue dances with yours, his hands skimming over your skin.

Jeno's movements are slow and steady, but each stroke is deep and intense. "You're doing so good for us, princess," he groans, his fingers gripping your hips tighter. "Taking our cocks so well."

Jaemin's thrusts are slower than usual, matching the rhythm of Jeno's. The sensation of being filled is almost overwhelming, but it's the connection to both of them—being surrounded and surrounded at the same time—that sends an unexpected jolt of pleasure through you.

"Oh, God," you cry out, feeling the coil in your belly start to wind up tighter. "Jeno, Jaemin, I-"

"Don't hold back, kitten," Jaemin orders. "We want to hear you when you cum."

Their words send you spiraling, and you're swept away. You moan, their names falling from your lips as you find your release. Your walls clench around Jaemin's cock, his hips pistoning in and out of you faster as he chases his own high. His nails dig into the skin of your hips, and he moans loudly, painting your walls white.

"Fuuuckkk, kitten," Jaemin groans.

Jeno continues to roll his hips, driving into you. His cock has you stretched to your limit. "Come on, princess," he rasps, "Be a good little girl for us and cum again."

It's like a switch is flipped; your toes are tingling, your eyes are rolling back into your head and the orgasm just hits you like a freight train. It feels like you're cumming in slow motion, every muscle in your body seizing and twitching in time to your contracting walls around both of them.

"Tha-- That's my girl," Jeno grunts above you. "Fuck... gonna fill you up, princess."

Your ass is aching from the relentless, rough pounding, but Jeno's cum spurting inside and Jaemin's own warmth splashing against your cervix trigger a third climax, drawing out an extended whine.

Your senses slowly return and the only things registering are the men's ragged panting, your own throbbing sex, and the warm wet stickiness spreading everywhere. "I think I'm gonna pass out," you mumble against Jaemin's sweaty neck.

Jeno pulls out, rolling onto his back on the bed beside Jaemin, breathing heavily. "I'm gonna need a minute or two to recover myself..."

"Me too, kitten. Give a guy a bit to cool down first," Jaemin's eyes were closed, his hand idly tracing lazy circles over your lower back. "Then we'll clean up and then maybe we can sleep."

"Sounds like a plan," you say, the heaviness in your eyes starting to take over.

"No sleeping just yet, princess," Jeno says, chuckling and lazily patting you on the behind. "Come on. I'm sure we can all use the shower before anything else."

As you stand, you wince. "You guys really did a number on me back there," you say with a sigh, shooting Jeno and Jaemin a look.

"Awe, don't worry, kitten," Jaemin wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives you a quick peck on your cheek. "We'll make sure you're good as new by tomorrow."

After washing, you curl up in bed with them—all three bodies tangled together, seeking comfort in closeness, exhaustion slowly overtaking your limbs.

The rest of the trip is spent in blissful exploration. You, Jeno, and Jaemin are completely insatiable, and there isn't a surface, position, or toy that isn't claimed by the end of the trip. Hell, you even had sex with them sprawled under a tree once, just because they wanted to do something new and different.

As the last day of the trip arrives, you made your choice.

You're lying in bed with them, curled between their warm, solid bodies, when the thought occurs to you: What if you don't have to choose? What if you can have it all?

"What are you thinking about, princess?" Jeno asks, his hand trailing along your arm.

"Just... everything," you reply, smiling softly.

"It's been a wild week," Jaemin says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"We've learned a lot about ourselves," Jeno says, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"And each other," Jaemin adds, his hand resting on your hip.

"And what are you learning?" Jeno asks, his dark gaze meeting yours.

"That I love you," you say, your eyes darting between the two of them. "Both of you. And I want the three of us to be together. Like a throuple."

Jeno and Jaemin exchange looks, their expressions unreadable. You begin to panic, thinking maybe they've changed their minds, but then they're both laughing.

"We're laughing because we had the same idea," Jeno says, smiling.

"It's crazy," Jaemin says, shaking his head. "But the way we've been these past few days...it feels right."

You sit up in bed, looking at both of them. "Really?"

"Really," Jeno and Jaemin reply, in unison.

"So we're going to try this? The three of us, together?" you ask, tentatively.

"If that's what you want, baby," Jaemin says, smiling.

"We just want you to be happy, Y/N," Jeno says, taking your hand in his.

"I think I'll be very happy," you reply, a grin spreading across your face. You snuggle against Jaemin, your hands trailing down his toned chest, and pull Jeno in close, his arm wrapped around you. "In fact, I think I'm already there."

"Good," Jeno whispers, kissing the nape of your neck.

"We love you, baby," Jaemin says, pulling the three of you down onto the bed.

"I love you, too," you murmur, smiling.

As the sun sets, casting the sky in vibrant shades of red and gold, you lie there in the arms of the men you love, feeling truly happy and at peace.

You couldn't ask for anything more.

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ His eyes on you.

› pairing┆cheol x reader › genre┆romance, Valentin's date. ✎ word-count .ᐟ 2.1k ⌁ summary┆Valentine’s Day with Seungcheol was never going to be simple. He doesn’t do simple. He does grand entrances. ⇢ This fic is part of the Candy Hearts event organised by @svthub. I am very happy to wish once again a Happy Valentine's Day to our lovely @sunniques 💌 I hope February was kind to you.

You wake up to the sound of your phone vibrating across your nightstand. You feel warm under the blanket, sunlight coming through the curtains of your bedroom.

An upcoming call from “Cheol ♡” flashes across the screen.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says the moment you answer, his voice still husky with sleep. It slides down your spine like warm honey. “Don’t make plans today.”

You laugh softly. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I think that was implied.”, rolling into the bed smiling brightly.

“I know,” he replies, and you can practically hear the smirk. “But I need you available. Completely. I’ve got plans.”

“Oh? Secret plans?”

“Very. And you’re going to wear something I bought you.”

You sit up a little straighter. “You bought me something?”

“It’ll be there in an hour,” he says smoothly. “Try it on. Send me a picture.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Mm,” he hums. “And you love it.”

You absolutely do. You were so excited to see what your boyfriend had planned out for you. And you knew, it was gonna be good

The delivery arrives exactly fifty-three minutes later on the dot. Of course it does. Seungcheol is many things—dramatic, competitive, ridiculously charming—but he is never late when it comes to you. He sets his priorities straight.

The box is heavy. Luxurious. Matte black with a gold-embossed logo that makes your eyebrows lift in shock and squeal in excitement.

He really did not hold back.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, is the dress.

It’s silk. Deep, dark crimson. The kind of red that feels almost sinful. The fabric catches the light like liquid. It’s backless, held up by delicate straps that cross at the shoulders. The neckline dips just enough to make your pulse quicken, and the slit along one thigh is daring without being obvious. You knew your boyfriend had taste, but he was surpassing himself on that one

Inside the same box, sat an envelope with a note closed off by a red wax seal stamp.

For the most beautiful woman in any room. Wear this tonight and let me show you off properly. - CSC

You stare at the dress for a long moment before you press it against yourself in disbelief, before running to your walk-in closet to step in front of the mirror to try it on.

It fits like it was tailored for you, which, knowing the man - could be possible.

The silk hugs your waist, skims your hips, and flows just enough to make you feel elegant instead of exposed. When you turn, the open back leaves your skin bare, vulnerable in a way that makes your cheeks warm.

You take a picture—full length, soft lighting—and send it to him.

Three dots appear immediately.

Then your phone rings. An upcoming video call.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he says by way of greeting.

You cannot help but giggle at his reaction. “Too much?”

“Too much?” He exhales sharply, staring intensely at your face. “You look unreal. That dress…God what have I just done? The way it fits you... Turn around.”

“I just sent you a picture, isn’t that enough for you?”

“I need a video.”

You laugh but prop your phone up anyway, stepping back to give him a slow spin.

There’s silence on the other end. Then a low whistle. You look at him from where you stand, he’s sitting back in his chair, admiring you as if you were the rarest gemstone on earth he could lay his eyes on.

“You’re not walking into that restaurant by yourself,” he mutters. “You’re making an entrance. And you’re walking in on my arm.”

“You sound proud.”

“I am proud,” he says without hesitation. “You’re mine. Of course, I’m going to show you off.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest. Your cheeks were burning from the compliments, the shower of compliments and attention he was giving you.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he adds. “Hair down. Heels. I want everyone staring, knowing they can’t have you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” simply scoffing but laughing endearingly. You adored him for showing you off with pride.

“And you’re perfect,” he shoots back. “See you tonight, baby.”

Throwing a wink before ending the call, leaving you alone to get ready for what could be the night of your life.

At exactly seven, headlights sweep across your living room walls.

When you step outside, you see the car first—sleek, black, polished to a mirror shine.

Then you see him.

Seungcheol is leaning casually against the driver’s side door, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a bouquet of deep red roses matching your dress. His coat is charcoal, cut sharply across his shoulders. Underneath, a tailored black suit and a crisp white shirt, the top button undone just enough to reveal a hint of collarbone.

His hair is styled neatly, but not stiff. Effortless. Dangerous.

When he sees you, he straightens.

And then he just… stares.

Slowly. Unapologetically. Up and down as you walked down to him. Eyes of a hungry predator.

“Wow,” he breathes.

You suddenly feel shy under the weight of his intense gaze.

He closes the distance in long strides, his eyes dragging over you from head to toe, then back up again.

“You are unreal,” he says softly, stopping in front of you. “That dress was made for you. Or maybe it was made to make me jealous.”

“Jealous of what?”

“Of everyone who’s about to look at you.”

You smile. “I thought you wanted that.”

“I do,” he says, voice dropping. “But I still get jealous.”

He hands you the roses, then reaches out—hesitating for just a fraction of a second before his fingers brush your bare back to leave a kiss on your temple.

The touch makes you inhale sharply, the sensation sending chills down your spine.

“Cold?” he murmurs.

“No,” you breathed out, suddenly feeling shy looking up to look at his face.

“Good.”

His hand lingers, warm and possessive, sliding just slightly along the curve of your waist before he offers his arm.

“Ready?”

“With you?” you say. “Always.”

His grin is slow and devastating. He was truly capable of everything.

The restaurant is everything you expected - and way more than you expected.

Crystal chandeliers. Soft golden lighting. White tablecloths. The faint hum of live jazz in the background. It’s the kind of place where whispers carry, and glasses clink delicately.

The hostess greets him by name.

Of course she does.

And of course, heads turn as you walk inside the establishment.

You feel it the moment you step inside—curious glances, recognition, admiration. But Seungcheol doesn’t look at any of them.

He looks at you. Only you, his gem.

His hand rests at the small of your back as he guides you to your table, a private area all for yourself. His thumb traces lazy circles against your skin, a subtle, intimate touch that makes your pulse flutter.

“You nervous?” he asks quietly once you’re seated.

“A little.”

“Don’t be.” His eyes soften. “You look like you belong here more than anyone else.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

He leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “No, it’s not. I mean it. You have no idea what you look like right now.”

“Tell me.”

His gaze darkens.

“You look confident. Elegant. Untouchable.” His voice lowers. “And the fact that you’re with me? Makes me feel like I won something bigger than the lottery.”

You laugh softly. “You didn’t win me.”

“No,” he agrees. “I got incredibly lucky.”

The waiter arrives with champagne, and Seungcheol takes the opportunity to really look at you again.

“Stand up,” he says suddenly.

“What?”, you stared in confusion.

“Just for a second.”

You raise an eyebrow from curiosity but stand, smoothing the silk down your thighs.

He leans back in his chair, admiring you openly.

“Perfect,” he murmurs. “The slit hits just right. And when you walk…” He shakes his head, throwing it back a growling. “You’re going to distract me all night.”

“You did this to yourself anyway”, you couldn’t help but tease him, swirling and smirking.

“Oh I am fully aware of my mistake.”

You sit back down, cheeks warm. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love that.”

He reaches across the table, taking your hand. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow and affectionate.

“I wanted tonight to be special,” he says more seriously. “We’re always busy. Always running. But tonight? It’s just you and me.”

“It already feels special.”

“Good,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Because I’m not done yet.”

Dinner is indulgent. Rich. Delicious.

But the best part isn’t the food. It’s him, sitting across the table.

The way he watches you when you laugh. The way he subtly adjusts his chair closer to yours. The way he doesn’t let a single compliment go unsaid.

“Do you know how many people have been staring at you?” he asks at one point, swirling his wine.

“You said you wanted that.”

“I did.” His lips curve. “But I also like reminding them you’re here with me.”

“Showing off?”

“Absolutely.”

You lean closer, lowering your voice. “And what exactly are you showing off?”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“You. Your beauty. Your intelligence. The way you light up every room you walk into.” His eyes soften again. “The way you look at me like I’m more than I am.”

“You are more than you think,” you whisper.

He studies you for a long moment, something vulnerable flickering behind his confident exterior.

Then he stands, walking around the table to you.

“Dance with me.”

“Right here, out of nowhere?”

“So?” His hand extends toward you. “Let them look.”

You slip your hand into his.

He pulls you close - one hand firm on your waist, the other lacing your fingers together. The music is slow, sultry. Your bodies sway in an easy rhythm.

The slit of your dress shifts with each step, brushing against his leg.

He notices.

His hand tightens slightly at your waist.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs in your ear.

“You bought the dress.”

“And I would buy it again,” he says instantly. “You look powerful in it. Like you know exactly what you’re doing to me.”

“And what am I doing to you?”

He leans closer, his lips just near your ear again.

“Making it very hard to focus on anything except you.”

Your breath catches.

His nose brushes lightly against your temple, not quite a kiss—but close enough to make your heart race.

“You’re stunning,” he says again, softer this time. “I don’t say it just to flirt. I mean it.”

You pull back just enough to look at him.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, Choi Seungcheol.”

He laughs quietly. “Oh? Just pretty well?”

“You look dangerously good.”

“Good,” he replies. “Because I dressed up for you only.”

“For me?”

“Of course, you’re my one and only.” His hand slides slightly higher along your back, careful but confident. 

“Who else would I be trying to impress?”

When the night winds down, he doesn’t rush.

He pays, thanks the staff, and keeps his hand warm and steady against you as you leave.

Outside, the air is cool, and he immediately shrugs off his coat to drape it over your shoulders.

“You’ll ruin your suit,” you protest.

“I’ll buy another one.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“For you?” He grins. “Always.”

He opens the car door, but before you can step in, he gently catches your wrist.

“Wait.”

You turn back to him.

He looks at you like he’s memorising you.

The soft glow of streetlights. The red silk against your skin. The way your hair frames your face.

“I had the perfect night planned,” he says quietly. “The restaurant. The dress. The roses. You. All of it.”

“And?”

“And somehow you still outdid it.”

Your chest tightens.

He steps closer, one hand resting at your waist, the other brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I love showing you off,” he admits. “But more than that? I love that when we’re alone like this…” His voice lowers. “You’re just mine.”

Your hands rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under the crisp fabric.

“And you’re mine,” you reply softly.

His smile turns slow, almost shy.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs.

Then he leans down and kisses you.

It’s not rushed, not wild. It’s warm, deep, and intentional.

The kind of kiss that says I chose you.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours.

“Ready to go home?” he asks.

“I’m always ready if I’m with you,” you whisper.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form & join my taglist

@ credits┆thank you @gentleisa for beta reading ☆彡

☘︎ taglist: @zozojella, @shinysobi, @kyeomofhearts, @codeinebelle, @eclipsaria, @nerdycheol

‧₊ ᵎᵎ "CHERRY.zip" ⋅.*

[mint-yooxgi]

I See Red - Yandere!Vampire!Mafia!Seonghwa X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU, Vampire AU, Mafia AU - Heavily inspired by Ateez's Last Supper performance

Genre: Mature, Smut, Fluff, Slight Angst

Pairing: Seonghwa X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Words: 12,044

Summary: When will people learn? You should never touch what's his.

General Warnings: Violence and Murder, Blood (lots of it), Mentions of torture (brief), Fat shaming (not done by hwa), Derogatory comments towards the reader, Kidnapping, Guns, Possessiveness. Hwa calls someone a hag once. (not the reader). Seonghwa is very much the epitome of the simpy 'that's my wife' trope. Reader's just as crazy as him. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

Smut Warnings: Pet names (King/Queen, My Love, My Star, Beloved, Darling, Pretty Girl), Shower sex, Wall sex, Strength kink (he's a vampire, don't @ me), Oral (fem. rec), Light fingering (fem. rec), Desperate and possessive sex, Consensual and mutual possession kink (don't take this lightly), Biting/Marking, Slight Breeding Kink (if you squint), Blood, Multiple Orgasms, Body Worship, Praise, Squirting, Overstimulation. I think that's everything!

A/n: I am so, so, so, so, so, happy with how this turned out! Hwa in the Last Supper performance has me in a chokehold and I'm okay with it. Big bad vampire mafia boss who only has a soft spot for you? Sign me tf up! Huge shout out to @pars-ley for the incredible gif that is accompanying this fic! Thank you so much again for the amazing banner! Also, shout out to @kwanisms for helping me decide on the title hehehe. Also, spot the Silent Hill reference 👀 As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

Park Seonghwa.

A name hot on the lips of everyone in the underground. Notorious kingpin and ruthless negotiator of his own crime syndicate, Wonderland. His name holds more power, and elicits more reactions than a nuclear bomb. It is not a name you want to hear is chasing after you.

There is nothing he wouldn’t do to get what he wants. If anyone dares to stand in his way, their existence is wiped completely off of the map. Empires have risen and fallen in mere days thanks to his handy work, that staying on good terms with him often depends on his mood.

Cold. Emotionless. Calculating. Brutal in the most volatile of ways. Park Seonghwa is not a man to be reckoned with, nor is he to be taken lightly.

A man with many quirks, who has but one fatal flaw.

You.

Being the wife of such a notorious crime boss is not easy. The constant threat of being targeted by hunters, assassins, kidnappers, or even rival syndicates in attempts to gain an upper edge over your husband gets quite tiring. Not many have ever succeeded in hurting you, let alone killing you. No one ever will.

Not unless they wish to live another day.

Seonghwa has spared no expense in regards to your protection, selecting only the best of the best of his most trusted men to protect you. However, there is the issue in and of itself. They’re men. Humans. They can only offer you so much. He used to have an elite team of vampires guarding you, but they were bought over by a rival gang.

Shame. They were his second strongest team.

Humans, fickle as they are, can be compelled. Once a human is compelled, no other vampire can break that compulsion. Your guards are instructed to offer their lives before accepting a rival syndicates’ offer. 

Each man was hand picked by Seonghwa himself, training them with his own personal guard to defend against any other supernatural being that they might come into contact with. Guns are loaded with indestructible bullets, inscribed with his family’s signature crest. Bullets which can penetrate any raw material, and kill whatever creature they come into contact with.

Every now and then, Seonghwa will add one of his own personal guard to yours. A precaution to make sure the compelled men are doing their job, and that the compulsion hasn’t worn off. Those who cannot abide by the rules are dealt with. Should anyone so much as lay a finger on you, the kingpin himself has no issue chopping off each extremity one knuckle at a time.

Going after you is a fool’s errand. Only the bravest - or rather, stupidest - have ever tried. If even so much as a whisper of an attempt on your life, or your relationship with him, reaches his ears, he is quick to stop it dead in its tracks. Literally.

No one comes in between the two of you. Absolutely no one.

You are the apple of his eye. The only one he can truly be vulnerable with, and let his guard down. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you. Anything you could ever want or desire, he will provide, no questions asked. Seonghwa worships the very ground you walk on. He worships you.

You are his, and he is yours. Nothing will ever change that fact.

Over the course of many years, the two of you have had many ups and downs. Learning about his true nature had been a bit of a rough patch, especially once you discovered what he is. However, one thing that has always remained strong is your trust in one another. Seonghwa would never hurt you. He would rather carve out his own heart than do anything that would warrant you being afraid of him. A fact which you knew was unquestionably true, especially once you saw just how much of a monster he could be.

A monster whom you love with all your heart, and who has entrusted you with his own.

Perhaps that’s why his organization has lasted so long. Instead of excluding you from his affairs, he revels in the fact that you are always more than ready and willing to help. Your ideas have saved him and his men more times than anyone outside of the organization will ever know. Because of this, you’ve butted heads with his inner circle more times than he can count, but it’s always with good reason.

Nothing makes him prouder than watching you put someone in their place, even if he’s one of those people sometimes.

Your importance spans far more than a simple marriage bond. Since you are one of the only known consistent women in his life, that’s all outsiders seem to focus on. Every nasty name, every type of derogatory comment, has been thrown your way by estranged men and women. Most attempt to push the two of you apart, hoping to drive a wedge between the two of you so they can topple his empire. They seem to mock you for being the ‘outsider’ in the group, not fitting in to the typical ‘escort’ ideal.

What they all seem to get wrong is that you are not a typical ‘escort’. You’re no ‘mistress’, either.

Well… other than the times you’ve brought Seonghwa to his knees, of course.

The other women you’ve occasionally bonded with inside of his syndicate either work undercover to gather intel for his men, or are one of their respective significant others. None of them dare to cross you, all of them treating you with the highest of respect. They all know what would happen should one decide to step out of line. The last, and only women to try was a fine example.

Unlike most of the shallow men that appear in this line of work, Seonghwa is very fond of your curves, and your height. In his eyes, you are the most beautiful, precious, perfect being to have ever walked the earth. Always, he is more than happy to remind you of that fact.

Most of the time, Seonghwa can barely keep his hands to himself. Whenever you’re around, he’s always got a hand placed so delicately against your lower back, or an arm around your waist or shoulders. If he’s feeling particularly frisky, he may pull you into his lap while discussing business plans, or casually cup your ass by sliding his hand into the back pocket of your jeans. That, or he’s making a point that you’re with him.

Seonghwa is a possessive man, and he wants the whole world to know that you’re his. Similarly, there is no being more prideful than him over the fact that he is yours. You belong to each other, and nothing will change that. Everyone should weep in envy at the fact that only he gets to touch you, and only you get to touch him.

The man can’t help it. Showing you off is one of his favourite pastimes. The whole world needs to know what they can never have. It’s become so prominent, you’ve had to start imposing a rule during the extremely important meetings to keep the touching to a minimum.

Of course, he usually toes the line between accidental caresses and handsy, but it’s not like you really mind. Despite his ruthless demeanour, Seonghwa would never truly force you into anything you didn’t want. Your comfort and safety is his top priority, and he would much rather you feel safe in his arms, than believe he could ever do anything to hurt you.

Everyone else, on the other hand…

Park Seonghwa is a man of few faces, but only you get the honour of knowing what he looks like when he’s in love.

“Where is she?” A sigh is breathed out through his nose as he sits at the grand dining table. You were supposed to join him fifteen minutes ago, but you’ve yet to arrive home. “It’s not like her to be late.”

Seonghwa begins to tap the tips of his fingers against the top of the grand mahogany table. The food is going to get colder with every minute you delay your arrival, and he never wants to serve you mediocre food. Besides, he’s supposed to be having a guest for dinner.

Dark eyes flit around the room, noting the silent guards stationed at the side of the room. Their faces are stoic, giving nothing away that would suggest they’re keeping things from him. 

Not that they could hide anything, even if they tried.

Seonghwa would have gotten his own personal guards to attend this meal, but the guest’s conditions upon meeting wouldn’t allow such a thing. Still, the man sitting behind the table is smart. Despite his reputation, many still underestimate how far he will go to maintain the upper hand. No one knows this house like him and his inner circle. Besides you, of course.

Stationed in strategic parts surrounding the dining room, his personal guards wait. Some are on patrol, but the ones that never miss are on immediate standby.

Letting out a sigh, Seonghwa thinks back on the last time he saw you. It had been this morning, he recalls, your conversation echoing through his head. The vampire had been admiring you openly from the comfort of your shared bed, nothing but silk sheets draped over his hips. His head rested against his open palm, elbow supporting himself as he fought off the desire pooling throughout his entire body. 

You were positively glowing beneath the light of the rising sun, his marks practically shining upon your skin. Even after an intense night of lovemaking, Seonghwa was still insatiable. How could he not be? You are everything he’s ever wanted in life; one look and he’s ready to fall apart. It didn’t help that the image of you from last night, fucked out and desperate, with tears of overstimulation in your eyes, kept flitting through his mind.

He nearly missed the fact that you told him all about your plans for today. 

You were going to visit a friend for lunch.

It’s been hours since then, and he hasn’t heard from you once.

“Sir,” A voice from off to his right draws his attention, and the subordinate recoils in fear at the sharp look sent his way. “The guests have arrived.”

Letting out an irritated sigh through his nose, Seonghwa leans back in his seat. A quick glance is spare to the empty high backed chair beside him which matches his own in every way. Two thrones. One for the King, and one for his Queen. Neither are supposed to be empty while the other sits in theirs.

He’s not used to this. He’s not used to not having you beside him.

Seonghwa purses his lips, giving the servant a curt nod in response. Looks like he’ll have to start without you.

The large double doors to the dining room are pushed open, a lone figure walking inside. Short, dark blond hair is slicked back, grease practically dripping off of the strands. An air of arrogance surrounds the tall man, every step echoing off of the marble walls. His head is held high, an expression of the utmost confidence painted across his features as his green eyes dance in amusement.

“Seonghwa! My man!” Arms are spread wide in greeting as the man comes to stand directly before the large dining table. His eyes scan the empty seat beside the kingpin, the corner of his lips twitching upwards. “I didn’t think you were one to dine alone.”

The doors fall shut with a definitive slam, the room suddenly appearing much darker beneath the dim lights.

“James.” Seonghwa blinks, a look of disinterest on his features. Reaching out, he takes his wine glass into his hand, swirling the contents lightly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Did you forget about out meeting?” The man quirks a brow. “It seems your wife has.”

The wine glass stills in Seonghwa’s hand. The sharpest of glares that would make anyone crumble beneath its gaze is sent James’ way, a few of the guards stationed at the sides of the room straightening from the intensity.

“Watch your mouth.” A warning that is not to be taken lightly. “Unlike you, I don’t need to control every aspect of a woman’s life.”

Seonghwa schools his features back into a look of disinterest, sipping back the rest of his wine. He rests his now empty glass near the edge of the table, fingers delicately holding onto the stem. Two taps, and the server begins to move to refill his master’s glass.

“Such brave words coming from a man who should really be keeping tabs on that which he supposedly cares for most.”

A scowl paints itself onto Seonghwa’s features, grip tightening over his wine glass. The server sure seems to be taking his sweet ass time, and the man at the table is beginning to get impatient.

“Tell me, Park,” James hums, clasping his hands behind his back with an air of relaxed ease. “Do you know where your wife is tonight?”

Seonghwa’s lips purse into a thin line, a vein in his temple throbbing as he clenches his jaw.

“Wherever my wife may or may not be is none of your concern, James.”

The server finally steps up beside Seonghwa with a fresh bottle at the ready. Wordlessly, the kingpin raises his glass into the air, fingers delicately holding onto the base of the bowl. Wine immediately begins filling the crystal, turning what once was pure into a dark red.

“No, perhaps it’s not.” James simpers. The man begins to pace lightly in front of the notorious mobster, his nose lifted pointedly in the air. “But perhaps, it should be yours.”

The doors to the dining room begin to open, a scuffle apparent in the hallway beyond. A few shouts can be heard, loud curses followed by the prominent clicking of heels.

Unrivalled fury paints itself across Seonghwa’s features as he watches your figure, beaten and bloody, being shoved into the room at gunpoint. Your clothes are torn and dirty, clear lines cutting through the smeared blood on your face to make way for your tears.

The glass in his hand shatters into pieces.

Rivulets of red trickle down his skin, his chest rising and falling dramatically. There’s a sudden chill that fills the room, and James’ own wife who is pointing the gun at your head visibly shivers.

Maria may be a powerful witch, but even she knows not to provoke monsters.

“Some security detail you had.” James guffaws, shoulders shaking in laughter. “Military men? Humans at that? You were practically begging for someone to take out the trash.”

Slowly, James begins stalking towards you.

Maria takes a cautious step back as he approaches, uncertainty in her eyes. The gun in her hand feels heavy, and she has to bring the other up to help support it in order to stop herself from shaking.

“You know… I never understood what you saw in her.” He continues, tracing his hand over your shoulders as he circles around your back. “Weak. Pathetic. Ugly.”

James pauses right beside you, grabbing you harshly by the back of the neck. The way his nails dig unforgivingly into you causes a fresh trail of blood to begin dripping down your skin.

Wood begins splintering beneath Seonghwa’s grip as he digs his hands into the arms of his chair. Lips are curled over sharp fangs, but still, the kingpin does not move.

Not yet.

The timing isn’t quite right.

“You and I both know ‘wife’ is just a codename for ‘living blood bag.’” Stepping in behind you, James purposely rests his chin on your shoulder. He forces your head to the side as he inhales your neck, making you shudder in disgust. “I don’t blame you for harvesting one so plump. Fat makes for good insulation. They don’t break as easily, and their blood is still pretty decent if you leave them to marinate for a few days. Besides, a couple days without food could do this one some good.”

The way such a vile creature has the audacity to reach up at pat your plush cheek makes Seonghwa snap. Though, at this point, he is passed the point of dramatic, extreme violence. Right now, he is so furious, a searing sense of calm begins flooding his entire body.

A list is already being compiled within his mind of all the ways Seonghwa is going to torture this vampire for even daring to look at you. Items, even more deadly than the last, are added with each offence such filth bestows upon you. Right now, that list is up to twenty-four. And counting.

“About that territory I wanted… I figured we could celebrate a done deal by draining the fat bitch dry.” James drags a single finger along a fresh trail of blood that drips over your skin.

Your eyes squeeze shut, body trembling in disgust. The feeling of this wretched man’s hands on you makes your skin crawl. All you want is to rip his dick off and shove it so far up his ass his witch of a wife can taste it when she kisses him. Only, the gun pointed firmly at your head by said woman, along with the dangerous vampire quite literally at your throat prevents you from doing just that.

James’ each movement is slow. Precise. He makes sure to drag out this moment, bringing his finger up to his mouth to suck your blood from his skin. His eyes flash with glee as he meets the furious gaze of the kingpin before him, the corner of his lips quirking upwards.

“Mmmh… Not bad…” A smug expression rests over James’ face, seemingly humming to himself. Focussing on the male before him once more, he smirks. “So, what do you say, Park? Do we have a deal?”

Seonghwa takes a deep breath in through his nose, the sharp exhale being heard all the way across the room. A sound which causes each and every one of his subordinates to freeze. A white cloth quickly gets handed to him by the server, the younger man trembling in fear. No one wants to become unfortunate collateral simply by being present during one of the King’s fits of unbridled rage.

In one fluid movement, Seonghwa shakes out the cloth, beginning to dab at the dark red staining his white sleeve. Though he’s managed to control his expression, a hard look settles onto his features. There is no denying the pure, white hot fury blazing within his dark eyes.

“You come into our home,” Seonghwa’s voice is low, dangerous and steady. Slowly, he wipes off the splatter of red that covers the shoulder of his black waist coat. “Disrespect me. Disrespect, insult, and brutalize my wife. Repeatedly mock the way we conduct proper business, and then have the audacity to insist on using underhand methods to get what you want? From me? Me?”

Seonghwa clicks his tongue, halting all movement of his hand. Fingers dig unforgivingly into the cloth as he slowly begins shaking in rage, throwing the now stained fabric harshly on top of the table. The high backed chair he had been sitting in scrapes loudly against the marble as he suddenly stands to his feet.

For the first time in his life, Seonghwa allows his throne to fall to the floor.

“It doesn’t work like that, James.” Seonghwa sneers, his eyes flashings violently as black veins begin to trickle out over the skin of his cheeks. Cracks appear throughout the wood as he leans forward to slam his hands on the top of the table, every soul present jumping at the loud bangthat echoes throughout the room. “You have three seconds to rectify this misdeed before I make minced meat out of both you and that hag who has the unfortunate displeasure of calling you her mate.”

James’ wife glances at him out of the corner of her eyes. Fear is clear on her features, her hand holding the gun to your head faltering as she begins to shake.

Not even Maria’s magic can help them now.

“One.”

“James…” Uncertainty lingers in her tone, eyes darting between the two vampires in the room.

“Don’t listen to him, Doll,” James throws her a brief look before turning to sneer at the man bracing himself against the top of the table. “He’s bluffing.”

“I can assure you that those who thought the very same are more than six feet under by now.” Seonghwa rebuttals. “Two.”

“Maybe we should rethink-“

“Too late.” A malicious grin pulls at Seonghwa’s lips, his eyes crazed. “Three.”

A bullet whizzes through the room, striking James’ wife right between the eyes.

“Maria!” James can only watch in despair as her lifeless body falls to the floor with a loud thud. He rounds on the kingpin whom looks exceptionally pleased with himself, a large smile full of nothing but pure insanity stretched across his cursed lips. “You bastard! You’ll pay for this!”

James manages to pull out his own gun. The barrel barely touches your head before it’s shot right out of his hand. You manage to jump away, another bullet sinking into the man’s upper thigh and pushing him further from your form. The man immediately recoils in pain, grabbing his bleeding hand as his legs shake, barely able to support himself on his own two feet for much longer.

Slowly, Seonghwa walks out from behind the table. Each step is meticulous, echoing off of the cold marble as another bullet sinks into James’ left knee. The pathetic excuse of a vampire immediately goes tumbling to the ground, crying out in agony as his body contorts in response to his new wounds.

Blood spills over the once clean floor as James looks up at the man he attempted to blackmail.

“Oh, James… James, James, James.” Seonghwa tuts, shaking his head in disappointment as he crouches beside the male withering in agony. A harsh grip in his hair forces James to meet the mobsters unforgiving glare. “You should have known better than to try and pull something on me.”

Seonghwa throws James unceremoniously onto the floor before standing back to his full height. Nothing but the utmost disgust rests on his features, glaring down at the trembling vampire in pure malice. Fangs are bared in a silent, mocking snarling, Seonghwa using the tip of his loafer against James’ forehead to harshly push him backwards.

Wiping his hands on his front, the Wonderland leader is quick to straighten out his waistcoat.

“I’m going to enjoy destroying you.” Seonghwa’s voice is nothing but a calm timbre as he looks down upon his prey. That familiar malicious grin tugs at Seonghwa’s features, and James finally understands what it means to make a deal with the devil. “Count yourself lucky that I have much more important matters to attend to right now.”

Without sparing another glance at the vampire slowly bleeding out in his dining room, Seonghwa turns his back towards the dying man. The click of his shoes echo throughout the dining room, each step seeming to mock his enemy. 

Both Yunho and Jongho have appeared by now, each male standing on either side of you. Their eyes are hard, glaring at the man on the floor for even daring to touch Seonghwa’s Queen.

James can only watch on as Seonghwa wraps his arm securely around your waist, leading you through a separate set of doors. Yunho and Jongho, the most notorious for their brutal interrogation and torture tactics, begin stalking towards their newest prey.

The last thing you see of the vampire that kidnapped you is a look of terrified realization painting his features as the two others close in on him.

Once the door to the hallway you now find yourself in is shut, you let out a small breath of relief. Seonghwa’s touch is nothing short of comforting as he keeps his hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you gently towards your private quarters. You can feel the way his fingers tremble against your skin; the only indication of his true emotions throughout this entire situation.

“A bath has already been drawn. Towels, as well as the proper medical supplies have been laid out for you both.” One of the head servants quickly falls into step just behind the two of you. “Mingi and Yeosang have been stationed at the first check point. Wooyoung and Hongjoong have taken the liberty to stand post outside your bed chambers. One in the hall, the other on the balcony. San will remain on watch with both Chris and Minho on the roof.”

A gruff nod is all Seonghwa gives in response, not allowing for even a hint of emotion except for displeased anger to appear on his features.

“I want to know who let that bastard so much as even look at my wife. Get the names of everyone who allowed this to happen immediately. Gouge their eyes out. Cut off their tongues. Then, feed them their severed fingers one by one.” There is no room for argument in Seonghwa’s tone, his gaze fixated on the hallway in front of you. “Do not stop until they are found, and properly disposed of. You all know the consequences. It’s time to deliver them.”

“Yes, sir.” The servant nods once firmly in understanding, swiftly turning on their heel to relay the message to the Hounds.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Seonghwa pauses just before the door to your shared quarters, turning to glance back at the servant from over his shoulder. “Tell San: ‘nice shots.’”

Another verbal confirmation is given before the servant is running off, leaving the two of you alone for the time being. Not even a moment later, Seonghwa is quick to shove through the door of your bedroom. He guides you gently inside before making extra sure all of the locks are all sliding into place. All of the curtains are drawn, the soft glow of the lamps soon flickering to life.

A breath of relief escapes you as you walk a bit further into your private quarters. Finally, you allow yourself to relax, knowing you’re now completely safe. One hand comes up to rub your shoulder, rolling it lightly beneath your touch as a dull ache begins to throb just beneath your skin.

“Well, today has been a day,” You huff, exhaling a low sigh through your nose. “I-“

Turning back to face Seonghwa, the rest of your words catch in your throat.

Never before have you seen your husband like this. Never, in all of the years that you’ve been together, have you seen him look this vulnerable. This scared.

Tears stream silently down his face, his lips parted slightly. He stands frozen to his spot like a statue, none of that familiar warmth he usually holds for you in his dark eyes. Instead, a complete look of devastation pulls at his every feature, his breathing shallow, and broken.

In a few steps, he closes the short distance between your two bodies. Trembling hands come up to cradle your face, fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your cheeks. His gaze flits everywhere over your beaten and bloody features, tracing over the largest cut he can see resting just above your eyebrow.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” Another tear slides down his cheek, his throat working as a plethora of emotions flash across his features. “Darling, I’m so-“

“Don’t do that to yourself, Hwa.” Your hands come up to gently rest on top of his own. “I wasn’t worried. I knew My Star would save me.”

Slowly, thanks to the comfort of your touch, his hands stop trembling.

“How can you be so calm right now?” His gaze searches your face, holding onto you a little tighter. “You could have died! I could have-”

His throat works, the mere idea too unbearable to even conceive.

He didn’t lose you. He can never lose you.

“Because I trust you, My Love.” You offer him a soft smile. “I have faith in my husband, even when he doesn’t have faith in himself. I know he’ll always protect me. A few scrapes and bruises here and there are nothing compared to the scars that line his body just so that he can keep me safe.”

“I will gladly bleed for you if it meant you never getting into harm’s way. Ever.” Tilting his head forward, he rests his forehead against your own.

“I know, Hwa,” A loving smile tugs onto your features. “A mosquito can’t bite me without incurring your wrath.”

“Because nothing deserves to touch you except me.” He lowers his voice, taking on a slight gravelly edge as he stares deeply into your eyes. One hand comes down to slip around your waist, pulling you closer as his touch settles against your lower back. After a moment, he adds a bit more lightheartedly, “And those you approve of. Clothes are walking a thin line, though.” At your quirked brow, he’s quick to remind you, “Don’t worry, My Love. I haven’t forgotten your lecture about respecting your mind and body, along with your autonomy. I will always respect you.”

“There he is.” A giggle escapes you, your eyes crinkling in joy. “There’s the man I always fall deeper in love with. Every. Single. Day.”

Seonghwa leans forward, nudging his nose so tenderly against your own. “I strive to always be the only love in your life, just as you are mine.”

“You are, My Love,” A soft hum escapes you, tilting your head slightly to peck his lips. “You’re my one and only.”

You barely have time to blink before Seonghwa is pressing his lips against yours. Both of his hands slide around your back, digging his fingers into your skin and pulling you flush against himself. His tongue traces your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You eagerly grant it to him, hearing a content hum escape him as you tangle your fingers in his hair.

“My Glorious Queen,” He growls against your lips. “Always, you will be mine.”

“Yours, My King,” A pleased sigh is breathed against him.

“Come,” Seonghwa pulls away from you, guiding you towards the ensuite with an arm wrapped securely around your waist. “Let me wash that vile creature from your skin.”

“Please.”

Eagerly, you both enter the bathroom to see the large tub steaming with fresh water. Bubbles lightly float against the opaque surface, a pink hue to the contents as the scent of cherry blossoms float through the air. Perched on a small podium resides a med-kit. Two large, fluffy towels rest off to the side. One with his personal crest embroidered into the fabric, the other with yours.

Grabbing a small hand towel from the vanity, Seonghwa is quick to wet the material. Turning back to face you, he begins gently washing the dried blood and dirt from your face. It only takes him a few minutes to do so, discarding of the towel and turning you both towards the tub.

A large sigh is breathed through your nose, shoulders drooping ever so slightly.

“Is something wrong, My Love?”  Seonghwa steps in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Soft kisses are placed along the skin of your neck, nuzzling his face into you gently.

“No.” Lightly, you shake your head. “I’d just prefer to shower than to sit in the tub, is all. I feel bad for letting such a luxury go to waste.”

“Nothing is too much for you, Darling,” A tender kiss is placed above your pulse before the sound of the water draining from the tub greets your ears.

You barely even felt him move.

“You spoil me.” An affectionate gleam shines within your eyes, the corners of your lips quirking upwards slightly.

“As I should.” Another gentle nuzzle is given into the side of your neck, Seonghwa gently turning you both to face the mirror. “You deserve nothing but the best. If I can’t spoil you, then what kind of husband am I?”

“Mine.” Your hand comes up to settle gently against his arms still wrapped around your waist.

A pleasant hum sounds from behind you.

“I can accept that.” Seonghwa tightens his grip around you. “What I can’t accept is you smelling like another man, especially while hurt. Here I am, promising to always take care of you, and I haven’t even healed any of your injuries yet.”

“They’re not that bad-“

“Bullshit.” The way his lips curl over his fangs can be seen in the reflection of the mirror before you. “Anything that dares to mar your beautiful skin, other than my own claims, will not live to survive another day.”

His one arm holds you firmly in place as he brings his opposite wrist up to his mouth. With one sharp bite, blood begins to drip from his skin, bringing the fresh wound to your lips.

“Drink.”

Immediately, you do as told.

The smooth liquid slides over your tongue and down your throat, a sweet taste flooding your mouth with every gulp. You’ve drank from him quite a few times before, but that still never prepares you for the sensation of his blood overtaking your every sense. Your vision sharpens, scents and sounds becoming that much clearer the more you drink. It’s addicting, and no one knows this fact more than him.

Seonghwa’s eyes flutter shut. The feeling of you suckling at his wrist causes a thrill of pleasure to surge through his entire being. Every time he feels your lips on his skin, his soul comes alive. The intimacy alone of sharing such an important life source with each other has always meant more to him than he could ever describe. Though, he wishes the circumstances were a bit more pleasant.

Blood is addictive. He should know. Yours is the most fulfilling, deliciously divine taste he’s ever had the pleasure to sample. Other than the nectar that flows from between your legs, of course.

Seonghwa can never get enough of you, not that he’d ever want to. The only thing more satisfying to him than calling you his is the fact that only he gets to touch you. Only he gets to experience every glorious instance with you. Others may look, but they can never have you.

The mere image of that thing having touched you… having hurt you, makes his blood boil. The fact that someone actually got close enough to do so has him already formulating a new plan for your protection.

You are now hardly ever to leave his side, two or more of his own personal guard with you at all times. No exceptions. Seonghwa can never let something like this happen again.

Time for him to restate his claim.

Slowly, Seonghwa begins stripping you of your clothing. The more he removes, the more eager he becomes, nearly tearing the fabric at the seams to expose more of your naked body to him. The small cuts that litter your skin begin to close, and he watches in smug satisfaction as his blood heals you in real time. His fingers trace over every inch of your bare skin that he can reach, admiring how your scents begin to intermingle the more you drink.

As it should be. He should always be covered in you, and you should always be covered in him.

Finally, you part from him with a gasp, some of his blood clinging to the corners of your lips. Eagerly, your tongue darts out to catch those lingering drops, humming contently at the taste. The way he watches your eyes hood over in the mirror as you stand naked in front of him has another pleased rumble shaking his chest.

“Allow me to replace such abhorrent marks with beautiful ones of my own.”

“I look forward to it, My King.” You coo, tilting your head slightly to nuzzle against his own.

Another pleased hum fills the air, a playful nip being given over your jawline.

Slowly, reluctantly, Seonghwa lets you slip out of his arms. Dark eyes flash, a low growl echoing throughout the room as he watches your naked form slip into the shower. Most, if not all of your previous injuries have already healed, pride swirling within his chest at how well he can care for you.

The sound of running water soon fills his ears, steam beginning to fill the bathroom as he strips himself of his ruined clothes. Your eyes follow his every movement through the glass, drinking in the way his skin slowly reveals itself to you. He knows you’re watching him. You can tell from the way he faces towards you, each movement purposeful as he slides off his waistcoat, loosening his tie in the next second. Once he’s slide the thin material from around his neck, he tosses it to the floor in one fluid movement. 

Slowly, Seonghwa begins unbuttoning his white shirt, red splatters staining the material.

Water flows over your skin, the heat helping to wash away the dried blood and dirt clinging to your body. It helps to relax your tight muscles, letting out a soft sigh in content. Your tongue comes out to wet your lips, watching as your husband pops the button of his slacks, kicking off his shoes and making short work of the rest of his clothing. He takes his time to run his fingers through his long, bleached hair, the strands having come loose from his sleek, slicked back appearance due to your previous ministrations.

A smug look pulls at his features, lips tugging upwards in the corner as he begins stalking towards you. Each movement is slow, stepping inside the large shower and closing the glass door behind him purposefully. Those dark eyes of his drink in every inch of your naked body, shamelessly trailing over every dip and curve that he can see.

The tattoo he can see resting proudly over the side of your ribcage has that familiar sense of pride swirling within his chest. A tattoo which matches his own.

Seonghwa licks his lips.

“Allow me to cleanse you, My Queen,” Lowly, his voice rumbles out, closing the distance between the both of you in a few steps.

Your hands settle onto his shoulders as he slips his one arm around your waist. A soft inhale escapes you as he pulls you flush against his chest, never once breaking eye contact. Gently, he brings the fingers of his free hand up to cradle your chin, leaning in to press his lips against your own.

The kiss is nothing more than a brief, loving display of affection, Seonghwa parting from you after a moment. Only, he doesn’t step away. Instead, he tilts his forehead to rest against your own, his touch disappearing from beneath your chin. 

Without so much as turning his gaze away, he reaches for the fresh washcloth that always hangs just off to the side.

The arm he has wrapped around your waist begins to slide downwards as he wets the cloth, a firm squeeze being given to your ass. The small peep of surprise you let out makes him smirk, beginning to massage your flesh so tenderly in his hand. A pleased growl escapes him as your body jerks forward, pressing yourself even firmer against his own.

Seonghwa is meticulous as he lathers the cloth with his own body wash, soon beginning to drag the material over your skin. Slowly.

Your eyes flutter as nothing but both his scent, and his touch, surrounds you. You’ve always loved his soap, the deep musk making your head spin. 

A fact of which he knows, for he only started wearing it for you.

Anything and everything to make you fall for him. To make you his. Once Park Seonghwa sets his sights on something, he will not stop until he gets exactly what he wants. Seonghwa wanted you, - he needed you - and you are exactly what he got.

Each touch is soft, starting at your shoulders and making his way down your body. Not once does he break eye contact with you, having spent countless of hours mapping out every beautiful dip and curve beneath his fingertips. 

Seonghwa knows your body like the back of his hand. He knows exactly where to touch to elicit certain reactions, and he takes full advantage of such knowledge now.

The cloth is dragged so lovingly over your back, his opposite hand giving your ass another appreciative squeeze before sliding up your spine.

The way you shiver beneath his touch makes him smirk.

Slowly, Seonghwa brings the cloth back upwards, teasing over your shoulders before lifting your one hand with his own. Wordlessly, he intertwines your fingers together, dragging the cloth over your arm. Switching hands, he’s quick to repeat the same actions on the opposite side, letting you feel his love for you, his desire, in every touch.

Still, he does not dare to tear his gaze from yours.

Your breathing deepens, heart fluttering inside of your chest. From the way his eyes shine, you can tell that he can hear every reaction his ministrations cause your body to make. The way your nails dig slightly into the skin of his shoulders once you place your hands back onto him says it all.

Tracing the cloth back up your arm, Seonghwa swipes it gently over your upper chest. His own breathing deepens as he slides his touch down to cup your breast, his free hand coming up to cup the other. A firm, appreciative squeeze is given to both, a low moan falling from his parted lips.

For a brief moment, his gaze flicks downwards. Using his thumb and forefinger on his one hand, he gently tweaks at your nipple. The other brushes over your opposite breast, lathering the soap over your skin while his thumb teases over your opposite nipple through the cloth.

A soft, pleased hum escapes you, lashes fluttering as you revel in his touch. You cannot help but arch into him, his hands burning paths of pleasure across your skin. 

Water continues to softly cascade down your body, washing the soap away shortly after coming into contact with your flesh. No part of you goes untouched, Seonghwa making sure he cleanses your body thoroughly. He doesn’t want there to be any reminders left from what happened earlier in the day. Right now, all that should cover you is him.

Slowly, Seonghwa sinks to his knees.

A halo of kisses are placed over your stomach, soft moans breathed against your skin. Those dark eyes of his glance up at you periodically, lashes fluttering after each press of his lips against you.

Your husband can never get enough of you. Right now, he wants even more.

“I can never get over how euphoric touching you is, My Love,” Another wet, open mouthed kiss is pressed against your stomach. “Fuck- I love your body… So perfect… So soft…” A blissful sigh is breathed over your skin. “Love making you shake in ecstasy, claiming you for the whole world to see…”

Your breath hitches softly as both of his hands come around to cup your ass, squeezing your flesh so delicately.

A pleased hum rumbles from deep within his chest, devolving into a low chuckle.

“See?” Fangs nip lovingly at your skin, Seonghwa dragging the cloth over the curve your ass. Occasionally, he’ll give you another appreciative squeeze, nuzzling almost possessively into your stomach. “How could I ever want to stop touching you? Your body knows who it belongs to… Who you belong to… Isn’t that right, My Love?”

Seonghwa peeks up at you from on his knees. His eyes are dark and dangerous, a predatory look swirling deep within his gaze. There’s no room for argument in his tone, the cloth getting tossed to the side as his touch returns to your skin, gripping at your thighs tightly.

A thrill rushes through your body, clenching lightly around nothing as he stares up at you. You know that look all too well, your hands automatically reaching out to begin combing your fingers through his damp hair.

Only, it seems as if Seonghwa doesn’t appreciate your prolonged silence.

“I asked you a question, My Love,” A low, warning growl builds in his throat. 

Suddenly, you find that he’s turned you so that your back is pressed against the cool tiles of the shower wall. His fingers sink almost unforgivingly into your plush flush, dragging the nails of his one hand down your skin and hoisting your thigh over his shoulder. 

“Tell me who you belong to.” Lips curl over fangs, black veins crackling over the skin of his cheeks. “Come on, Pretty Girl. I need to hear you say it.”

The sight alone causes your heart to flutter, breath hitching slightly as you stare down at him.

“I’m yours, My Star,” You coo, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. “I belong to you. Everything I am, everything I was or am sure to be, is yours.”

The feral snarl that reverberates against the tiles of the shower sends pleasure flooding through your veins. Dark, ravenous eyes stare up at you, irises bleeding red as white sclera shift into the deepest of voids. Seonghwa’s lips curl upwards, pulling back to expose his fangs as he slides his hands over your sides.

“Good Girl.” A sharp nip is given to your inner thigh, a small trail of blood beginning to drip down your skin. One which he is more than eager to trace with his tongue.

A thrill rushes through you, loving the deep growl that lines his voice. A tone you know all too well, affection lingering beneath every syllable.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, pausing all movements as you yank his head back so he’s forced to look up at you. The same dark look that he wears is reflected on your own features, grinning as you hear a guttural groan part his plush lips.

“And who is it that worships the very ground I walk on? Who belongs to me? Who is it that will only ever belong to me?” 

The intensity in your eyes makes him shiver, his cock twitching against his thigh. Already, precome leaks from the tip, his heart beating alongside your own. He holds onto you tighter, digging his fingers into your soft thighs as a desperate moan escapes him.

“I will only ever belong to you, My Love.” Seonghwa rasps, beginning to trail wet, open mouthed kisses up the skin of your inner thigh. “I’m yours. I always have been, and I always will be.”

“That’s right, My King,” You hum, a sultry grin tugging at your lips. “You’re mine.”

“Forevermore, My Queen,” His eyes flash, nosing closer towards the apex of your thighs. “Fuck- you smell incredible… Need to make sure you always smell like me, so everyone knows who you belong to. No one- No-fucking-one is ever going to take you away from me again.”

With those words, Seonghwa slips his hands back around to your ass, burying his face into your cunt. 

A pleased growl escapes him as his nose slips between your folds, fingers sinking unforgivingly into the plump flesh of your ass. He pulls you even closer, nuzzling against you before teasingly swirling his tongue around your entrance. The tip of his nose bumps against your clit, his lips laving over your cunt before suckling harshly at your folds.

You toss your head back against the wall, fingers immediately tangling in his hair. The way you pull him in closer to you makes him moan against your core, his hot breath making your head spin as he traces his tongue over your slit. Soft pants fall from your lips as he places sloppy, wet kisses all over your cunt, making sure no part of you goes untouched.

Slowly, he dips his tongue between your folds, holding your gaze as he licks a firm strip up from your entrance to your clit. The tip of his tongue immediately begins flicking rapidly over that pert little bud before his lips are wrapping around it, suckling eagerly at that sensitive little bundle of nerves.

The way you keen against him makes him smirk, a pleased hum rumbling from within his chest.

Each movement is messy. For the moment, Seonghwa is more focussed on covering his face in the wetness that drips from your cunt. He wants to smell like you, to bathe himself in your scent as he covers you in his. He needs it. Especially after seeing such a vile creature dare to lay their filthy hands on you.

Another firm squeeze is given to your ass, Seonghwa pulling you even closer against his lips. Those dark, ravenous eyes of his drink in each and every expression you offer him, desperate for more. Eagerly, he traces his tongue over every inch of your pussy, beginning to thrust it as deep as he can within you.

Soft pants and stuttering moans escape your parted lips. Nothing but absolute pleasure floods your veins, skin tingling everywhere he touches. The fingers you have tangled in his hair pull him in even closer, beginning to grind lightly against his lips as he desperately thrusts his tongue into your weeping entrance.

“Oh, fuck- just like that, Hwa- Oh!” Your lashes flutter, beginning to feel that familiar pressure building within your lower abdomen. “Don’t fucking stop!”

A snarl of agreement reverberates against your cunt, Seonghwa pressing himself even firmer into you. The tip of his nose bumps continuously over your clit, jolts of pleasure sending shockwaves throughout your entire body as your moans begin to rise in pitch.

“Fuck- make me come, My Star,” You pant out, staring down at him through hooded eyes. “Make me drip all over your pretty face.”

“With pleasure…” 

The words are growled against your core, Seonghwa immediately shaking his head back and forth. His fingers dig unforgivingly into the skin of your ass, swirling his tongue inside of you as his nose presses firmly against your clit. The tip of his tongue soon focusses on tracing along the top of your inner walls, thrusting desperately as he moans into you.

With one final nudge over your clit, your eyes are fluttering shut. Your orgasm washes over you like a wave upon the shore, body thrumming in ecstasy as you arch from the wall. Lightly, your thighs shake, Seonghwa not relenting for even one second as he prolongs your pleasure for as long as he possibly can.

Though, you know that this is far from over. After all, he’s only just begun.

Just as with every other time when he’s eaten you out, Seonghwa does not stop here. In fact, he only redoubles his efforts over you. Black veins pulse over his cheeks as he laves his tongue over the entirety of your cunt, making sure no drop goes to waste. 

He needs all of you. He craves it, like the very air you need to breathe.

Lips wrap around your sensitive clit, suckling eagerly at that pert bud as he balances you against the wall. One hand slides down from your ass, two fingers spreading you open to give him unrestricted access to your weeping cunt. Not even a moment later, he flattens his tongue, rubbing it in firm circles over your clit.

“Oh- Fuck!” Your eyes roll, heavy pants escaping you as you’ve barely had time to recover from your previous orgasm. Pleasure pools in your core, clenching hard around nothing as Seonghwa focusses all of his attention on your clit. “Hah- Hah- My Love- Oh!”

“More.” The firm command is growled against your throbbing clit. “Give me more.”

The lewd, wet sounds that fill the air make your head spin, Seonghwa shameless as he traces his tongue over every inch of your cunt. Pleased hum and deep moans escape him, bringing the tip back up to circle so tenderly over your clit before suckling that pert bud between his lips.

“Seonghwa…” His name is but a pleasant sigh from your lips, eyes hooding over as you stare down at your husband feasting on your cunt so ravenously. “My Love…”

“Come for me,” Those sharp eyes of his glance up at you, sucking your clit firmly between his lips. “Soak my face, Beloved. Bathe me in your sweet nectar and claim what rightfully belongs to you.”

His words have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, body shaking as with one final flick over your clit, your orgasm crashes into you. Loud moans and high pitched whines escape you, head spinning as he supports you against the wall. Nothing but pure euphoria floods your veins, chest rising and falling dramatically as heavy pants fall from your lips with every breath.

“Mmmh, that’s it, My Queen,” Seonghwa hums, chuckling lowly. Tender kisses are placed over your swollen clit, smirking against your core with every twitch he feels against his lips. “So fucking beautiful…”

This time, he slows his pace.

Soft, wet kisses are trailed over the skin of your inner thigh, his fangs nibbling at your flesh. Occasionally, he grazes you enough to cause blood to swell on the surface, his tongue quick to lap up each drop. The fingers he had been using to keep you spread open trace over the edges of your cunt, dipping down to tease lightly at your entrance.

A soft moan tumbles from your lips as you feel him push the tips of his fingers inside of you, only to remove them in the next second.

“Seonghwa-“

The desperate whine of his name gets caught in your throat, which is simply music to his ears.

“What’s that?” He hums, continuing to tease at your entrance by dipping his fingers into you gently. Only, he never pushes them more than a knuckle deep, pulling them out to trace the tips so lovingly over your folds. “Does My Pretty Girl want to come again?”

Lightly, you squirm in his hold, whimpering as you stare down at him.

“Needy girl,” Seonghwa chuckles, slowly kissing his way back up your thigh.

The one leg you still have supporting yourself on the ground begins to shake. 

“Please-“  Your voice catches, hips jerking forwards in an attempt to push his fingers deeper inside of you.

“Does My Love want me to devour her pretty pussy?” A tender nuzzle is given against the skin of your inner thigh. “Will she not be satiated unless I make her squirt all over my face? Will she not be satisfied until I make her mine?”

“Fuck- Seonghwa-“ Your fingers tighten in his hair, forcing his gaze to yours as you tilt his head upwards. Something within your eyes flash, clenching hard enough around nothing to cause yourself to begin leaking prominently over your thighs. “Make me yours. Right. Fucking. Now. I need you…“

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa has stood back to his feet. Both of your legs are wrapped around his waist as he pins you against the wall, fingers digging harshly into the skin of your thighs. Not even a moment later, he slides his touch upwards, grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing at your flesh.

There is nowhere for you to go. Nowhere to run or hide, for you will forever be trapped in his embrace. Seonghwa has made damn sure of that.

Not that you’d ever want to leave him…

The tip of his hard cock nudges at your dripping entrance, slipping between your folds as he pushes as close to you as possible. Each breath is but a low snarl upon his lips, black veins crackling over his cheeks. The look in his eyes is downright predatory, fangs on full display as he stares you down.

“You’re mine.”

With those words, Seonghwa buries himself deep inside of you. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, creating a brutal pace as he snaps his hips against your own.

A choked moan parts your lips, eyes rolling slightly as you cling to him. Your nails scratch down his back, each growl he breathes out going straight to your core as you clench tightly around his cock. The familiar stretch of him sinking into your core makes your head spin, pulling him in even closer.

“Fuckin’ perfect, Darling,” Seonghwa breathes, his forehead pressed against your own. Those dark eyes of his stare intensely into yours, fingers digging into your ass as he snaps his hips into you. “Your pretty pussy always sucks me in so well. My Pretty Girl is always ready to bounce on my cock, isn’t she? So wet… So tight.”

“It’s because I was made for you, My Star,” You exhale shakily, lashes fluttering as your tongue darts out over your lips. “You always fill me so well, My Love. Feels incredible having you buried inside of me. I can’t help but feel empty without you.”

“It’s because I was made for you, Darling,” The words are a mere rasp on his lips, slowing his movements only briefly in order to circle his hips so lovingly against your own. The way you keen against him makes him smirk, a pleased rumble shaking his chest. “Feel that? Feel how perfectly your pussy moulds around my cock? I never wish to part from you, My Love. You own my heart, and I never want it back.”

“Seonghwa-“ A soft whine escapes you as a sharp thrust is given into you. The wet squelch you can hear each time he buries himself deep inside of you makes you clench, pleasure thrumming throughout your veins. 

The tip of his cock presses so tenderly against that special spot inside of you, Seonghwa having mapped out every inch of your body multiple times. His only desire right now is to please you. As is his every desire. Your pleasure is his pleasure, and feeling you drip all over his cock while screaming his name is ecstasy of the highest order.

“You can never escape me, Beloved,” A sharp nip is given to your ear as he leans into you, his voice but a low rumble on his lips. “The moment you let me slip that ring on your finger, you became mine. If you ever even attempt to leave me, if anyone so much as dares to take you away again, I will chase you to the very ends of the earth. You’re mine.” Another sharp thrust is given into you, emphasizing his every word. “You belong to me, just as I belong to you. There is no one else. There will never be anyone else. I’m yours, and you’re mine. Until the very end.”

“All yours, Seonghwa,” You sigh, purposely squeezing around his cock. The way he grinds himself so lovingly into you makes you hum. “Always, I am yours, just as you will forever be mine.”

“That’s right, Pretty Girl,” A pleased chuckle rumbles from deep within his chest. “We belong to each other. Forevermore.”

Shifting your hand upwards, your fingers tangle in his hair. In one quick move, you guide his lips to yours, kissing him desperately as he begins rolling his hips so sensually into your own. Each thrust fills your cunt with every inch of his cock, his tongue eagerly exploring your mouth as you part for him.

The change in pace makes your head spin, pleasure pooling within your core as you drip all over his cock.

Soft whines and gentle moans are breathed into each other’s mouths, hands desperately gripping at each other’s bodies. You hook your ankles behind his back, thighs tensing as you pull him in closer.

The way your body presses flush against his own, every glorious curve of yours being felt against his skin, makes him moan. To him, there’s no other feeling quite like it. Your body sets his own on fire, soul coming alight with every touch.

“I fucking love you, My Queen,” Seonghwa mumbles against your lips, nipping lightly at your skin.

A soft moan tumbles from you lips, clenching hard around him as he thrusts sharply into you.

“As I love you, My One and Only King.”

Pleased rumbles fill the air, a deep moan of your name being breathed out by the vampire before you. He holds onto you so tightly, as if you may disappear at any moment. Desperate, deprived, and possessive. Only you can make him this way.

Though his pace has slowed, each tender thrust into you is firm. Seonghwa makes sure to fill you with every inch of his cock, loving how your warmth flutters around him each time. The way you drip over his balls and onto his thighs makes his head spin, swallowing all of your melodic whimpers and whines as he kisses you deeply.

“Seonghwa-“ You gasp into his mouth at one particularly hard thrust. When he immediately grinds his hips into you, the tip of his cock pressing so delicately against that special spot, your eyes roll slightly. “Right fucking there, My King- Oh!“

A pleased hum echoes around you, another sharp thrust given into you. His cock is angled perfectly to hit that spot, pride rumbling within his chest as he listens to the way your breath catches in your throat..

“Oh-“ Your walls clench tightly around him, digging your nails harshly into the skin of his back. “Claim me, My Love. Fucking mark your territory so no one dares to take me away from you again.”

The deepest of snarls you’ve ever heard him emit fills your ears, echoing around the tiles of the bathroom.

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself pinned beneath him on your bed. Water drips from both of your bodies into the sheets, wet strands of his silver blond hair clinging to his skin. Each strand accents his features, serving as nothing more than a bright halo beautifully framing his face.

“With the utmost of pleasure, My Queen.” 

The deep snarl that lines his every word is the most feral you’ve ever heard him get. It goes straight to your core, clenching hard around him as he begins that brutal pace once more. Tingles erupt over your skin, surrendering yourself completely to the pleasure he provides.

“Not gonna fucking stop until you’ve creamed all over this cock, Beloved. Gonna fill you so fuckin’ full of my seed, I’m gonna be dripping out of your precious cunt for weeks.” His hands grip your wrists tightly, pinning your arms above your head as he thrusts relentlessly into you. The way your body shakes, tits bouncing with every snap of his hips into your own makes nothing but love, lust, and pride swell within his chest. “Gonna let the whole world know who you belong to, and who belongs to you. There won’t be a living soul in this universe that will ever touch you again, besides me. They won’t dare. You’re mine. Do you hear me? Mine!”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Tears of pleasure begin flooding your vision as that familiar pressure builds rapidly within you. You can barely keep your eyes open to stare into his captivating gaze, harsh pants and high pitched whines escaping your lips with every desperate thrust he gives into you. “I’m yours, Seonghwa! All yours! Always and forever, My Star! Make me yours so I can make you mine!”

Another feral snarl greets your ears, his lips immediately finding your own. His kiss is nothing but desperate, tongue slipping into your mouth as he moans into the kiss.

In one swift movement, Seonghwa shifts to hold both of your wrists above you with his one hand. The other drags lovingly over your body, tracing over every curve delicately. His fingertips tease at your skin, continuing to slide his touch everywhere over your body. A tender caress is given over your stomach, the soft touch contrasting the animalistic way he fucks into you. 

With one final squeeze to your stomach, he drags his hand further downwards, thumb finding your clit and beginning to rub in small circles.

“Oh!” Your back arches from the bed, eyes fluttering closed as your whole body begins to shake. Your thighs tremble around his waist, squeezing so tightly around his cock as that pressure within you gets close to snapping. You do your best to hold back your impending orgasm for as long as you can, needing to feel him filling you full of his come before you can even think of letting yourself go. “Seonghwa- My King! Please-“

“Come for me, Darling.” There is no room for argument, his words but a command on his lips. Wet, sloppy kisses are placed against the skin of your pulse as he buries his face into the side of your neck. “Fucking flood my cock with your love. I want to hear you scream.”

With one final flick over your clit, your body obeys his every command. What serves to make the feeling all the more intense is when you feel him bite into the side of your neck, his fangs sinking into your soft flesh and drinking his fill of your blood.

A scream of his name tears from your throat, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your squirt all over his cock. You keen from the bed, whole body trembling violently as you feel him pin your hips to the mattress with his own. Spurt after spurt of come escapes him as he fills you to the brim, your walls fluttering around his cock as your combined releases begin to leak out of your core.

Heavy pants escape you, nothing but whines falling from your lips. The intensity of your orgasm washes over you, suspended in a pool of bliss as you feel Seonghwa press himself completely against you. Not an inch of your body goes untouched by him, releasing his hold over your wrists in order to gently begin tracing his hands over your sides.

Soft kisses are trailed over your neck, his tongue coming out to lave over the fresh bite mark that rests proudly against your skin. The pleased hum that rumbles from deep within his chest makes you smile, staring up at him through hooded eyes as he pulls away to admire you beneath him.

Before he even gets a chance to say anything, you beat him to it.

“Turn me.”

To say your words catch him off guard would be an understatement.

This time, it’s Seonghwa’s turn for his breath to hitch. The vampire lord stills above you, staring down at you with wide eyes as he sees the sincerity reflected on your features.

“My Love?” His words are but a breathless whisper as he brings a hand up to cradle the side of your face.

“I want you to turn me.” Slowly, carefully, you bring your own hand up to cup his cheek. Your thumb traces over his skin, admiring the man above you. A soft, tender smile pulls at your lips, eyes flicking between his own. “I know we’ve talked about it before, but it was simply never the right time. I’m ready now. I love you, Park Seonghwa. You are my forever. I’m ready to become yours.”

Tears begin building within his eyes, blinking rapidly as the first drops begin to fall gently against your skin. His throat works, hands fumbling over your body as he presses impossibly closer to you. Tenderly, he cups your face, lips finding yours in a searing kiss. A kiss which he hopes will convey everything he wishes to say to you.

The moment you smile against his lips, he knows that it does.

“I love you.” A choked confession parts his lips, placing intermittent kisses against your own before trailing even more along your cheek and over your pulse. Arms slide around you, hugging you close as he buries his face within the crook of your neck. A lingering kiss is pressed against the fresh bite mark adorning your skin. “I love you so fucking much.”

Without hesitating, you wrap your own back around him, holding him close. The fingers of your one hand come back up to thread through his wet hair softly. You cradle him to your chest, refusing to let him go anytime soon as your heart beats steadily for the man held within your loving arms.

Kisses are soon trailed from your neck and down over your chest, Seonghwa nuzzling affectionately over your heart. He buries his face against you, soon turning to rest his ear directly above that muscle pumping rhythmically beneath your skin.

A tender glance upwards is sent your way.

“Are you sure?”

You expression softens, lips tugging upwards lovingly as your whole body relaxes beneath his touch.

“More than anything, My Love,” The hand you have threading through his hair comes around to cradle the side of his face. “I never want another incident like today to occur. I despise seeing you cry, especially when I’m the cause of it.”

Seonghwa looks about ready to protest, but your finger settling gently over his lips quiets him for the time being.

“You are the love of my life, Seonghwa. I promised you forever, just as you did for me.” Gently, you trace your touch over his cheek, caressing your fingertips along his skin. Openly, you admire the beautiful man before you. “I’ve wanted this for a while now, and today only served to solidify my choice. I want to be able to claim you in the same ways that you claim me. I want to be yours. Now, and until forever.”

Pushing himself upwards with his arms, Seonghwa hovers over you. Nothing but tender love and affection can be seen within his gaze, staring down at you so fondly as he admires every inch of your skin. He takes his time trailing his eyes over your body, finally pulling out of you and sliding his palms up your sides.

He licks his lips, some remnants of your blood still clinging to his skin.

“Nothing would make me happier than spending eternity with you, My Queen.” Dark eyes shine so lovingly down at you, pressing another tender kiss to your lips. The way you smile against his skin makes his heart flutter, warmth surging throughout his entire body. 

Long since has Seonghwa dreamt of this day. Countless hours have been spent fantasizing about this very moment, bonding you to him in such an intimate way. Sure, you’ve shared each other’s blood enough times before, but this is different. Now, you will become like him.

After this, there is truly no turning back.

Soon, you’ll be able to share in even more pleasures this world has to offer, and he’ll be right by your side through it all. He’ll get to guide you through each new experience, showing you things he’s only ever dreamed about. You’ll be able to share meals with him in more intimate and fulfilling ways, teaching you the ways of his kind and revelling in each and every new discovery you make. Together.

You’ve always been quite efficient at biting and feeding from him, that he cannot wait to watch you make your first kill. 

Excitement pours through him, indescribable unconditional love flooding his veins.

Seonghwa knows exactly who that first kill should be.

A loving smile stretches onto his features, staring down at you so fondly. He can smell the way his blood courses through your veins, mixing seamlessly with your own. Softly, his hands caress over the sides of your face, searching your eyes one final time for any uncertainty or hesitance.

He finds none.

Silently, your husband vows to be the last thing you ever see in this life, and the very first thing you see in your next.

With a subtle nod of your head, another soft kiss is being placed upon your lips.

“To the start of our forever.”

With those words, Seonghwa snaps your neck.

[hannieoftheyear]

LUCKY STRIKE [C.VN]

Vernon would never let anything happen to you. But when the time comes, and he's standing at your doorstep, flowers in one hand, and bloody cuts in the other, it's your turn to take care of him for once.

pairing: mafia!vernon x fem!reader

word count: 4,5k of lazy and messy sex for you

genre/au: mafia au, established relationship, smut with the barest plot, a bit of fluff.

content warnings: vernon is terribly down bad, light mafia themes, implied violent encounters, blood, bruises, cuts, minor injuries, reader takes care of his injuries and he gets horny, this is corny, you were warned!! | explicit smut: couch sex, switch!vernon, switch!reader, sucking fingers, they both have a thing for hands and fingers, biting, spit kink, spit as lube, handjob, unprotected sex (don't be stupid pls), cumming inside, nicknames: baby (both).

♥︎ thank you to everyone that tolerated me sending clips of vernon on the thunder stages for days ♡ this is for you

🎧: shining star (vernon solo) — seventeen

THIS FIC IS FOR +18 READERS ONLY. I can't control what people read, but I can control who interacts with my blog. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED

check out my main masterlist ♡

note: i'm a sucker for lazy couch sex with vernon and i won't apologize for it!! i hope you enjoy this silly thing ♥︎

this was, of course, heavily inspired by all the 'happy burstday' concept photos and stages

mafia prompt taken from here ♥︎ dividers here

"Being adopted into the local mafia has its pros and cons."

Pros: You can safely do your 2 am. grocery shopping at the one superstore that's open all night without fearing for your life. Those scary looking men, the ones you'd normally cross the street to avoid, treat you like their little sister. All except for the cutest one of them all.

The gloomy night accompanies the swift movements of the crochet needle between your fingers, tangling the strings of light blue and red knitting wool you bought days ago in a whim. In the search for a new hobby, your algorithm acted out again, and you ended up on the granny activities side, peaking your interest enough to sit on your uncomfortable couch for hours trying to make a usable piece of clothing.

Normally, on a weekend night, the cold wind would be welcomed by your barely covered skin, walking hand in hand with the only guy your self proclaimed body guards allowed you to be in close proximity to. But something, or rather, someone, told you to stay home for the night.

Another pro of being close with the bad guys: they help you avoid confrontations with threatening rival gangs. You're left blissfully out of the mess, but, as you're still able to hear the rounds of loud noises on the streets around the neighborhood, you're also not unaware of the bruises you see covering the guys' arms and faces the next day.

Your forehead hurts from all the frowning you've been doing for the past hour, trying to figure out the pattern you should be following and restarting every few rows.

A soft, unsure knock takes your concentration away, but it quickly puts a smile on your face as you realize who's the only person that'd show up at this hour at your door. The amateur crochet project is left forgotten on the coffee table, the metal needle crinkling against the glass as you get up from the couch.

But, whatever excitement you had, it drops completely as soon as the doorknob turns under your hold, and the door opens to reveal who you were expecting.

Vernon stands at the entrance, with his side smile painting his face as if everything was okay. You instantly know it's not. His lower lip is swollen red, probably from a punch, the neck line of his t-shirt is stretched far more than normal, with a tear visible on the side.

Cons of being adopted by the local mafia: your big bad mafia boyfriend constantly gets hurt on the job.

With one hand busy holding a bouquet of your favorite yellow flowers, he wraps the other one around your waist when you don't move, frozen analyzing his state. "Not happy to see me?"

Vernon's teasing smile so close to you, mixed with his breath fanning your face as he leans in to give you a peck, is intoxicating. His bruised lips are soft against yours, taking seconds longer to feel you on him than normal. One would never guess he's hurt from the way he's pushing himself against you.

"Baby, what happened?" Your hand reaches for his behind your back, the cuts on his knuckles harsh under the pads of your fingers.

He sighs against your parted lips, chuckling lightly before taking a step back and letting himself in into your apartment. "You should see the other guys."

"Multiple?" Your wide eyes follow him as he searches for a vase to put the flowers he brought.

It's natural for him to have his way around your home. After all, he's the only one that you, or your neighborly mafia, ever allowed in. It's your sacred place, safe from the dangerous outside world, the only place where you can be truly calm, be with him with no fears.

While he occupies himself with his gift, you take the chance to escape to your bathroom, wash the dried blood from your hands, and find your first aid kit. The one you've never had to use before.

You were always the one who he took care of, who he protected, made sure you were intact. After so many times he was there for you, it's your turn to take care of him and heal his wounds the best you can.

"Remember I told you to stay in today?" His gaze is trained on you as you sink down next to him. The click of the aid kit opening breaks the silence as he waits for your answer.

You only nod, half hearing him, half focusing on grabbing what you need to disinfect the cuts in his hand. His hand that places itself on your thigh to draw your attention.

"We're okay—I'm okay," his voice is soft, knowing you worry every time he goes out to parts of the town they don't have under their control, "it was just a small payback."

"Baby, you're bleeding," Vernon hisses as you clean the wounds around his knuckles with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, "who did you go with?"

"Mingyu and Wonwoo," your insides burn, feeling his stare, boring holes on the side of your face, "they took on the bigger guys." Vernon jokes.

You shouldn't sigh in relief hearing that, but you do so anyway.

It's a regular occurrence for the guys to tease him for his objectively smaller build, but he counters it with a perfectly learned strategy. He knows how to fight, knows the places that hurt the most being punched, where to kick, poke, slap to make his opponent lose their balance, and ultimately, the fight.

"Let's hope these people don't come back after you."

"Believe me, they won't." He smirks, charging his words with smugness.

You wrap the little bandage you had saved around his hand with care. Not too loose, not to tight. You feel his eyes on you as you leave the aid kit on the table, right besides the mess of knitting wool you alredy forgot was there.

"I have the best nurse ever." Vernon wastes no time, lifting your hips with his, now working, hands, and sits you on his lap, both your legs fitting naturally at his sides as he realizes you're only wearing panties under your t-shirt. "I should come here hurt more often."

"Then you'll have to replace the stuff I use on you!" Looking slightly down to connect your eyes with his, your teasing tone vanishes at the soft glimmer in his eyes. "Please, just… be careful next time."

The side of his face feels warm against the palm of your hand, and he leans into your touch, feeling your care even through the smallest, most mundane touches.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shown up like this." His doe eyes turn glassy, searching for any anger indicators on your expression, but only finding worry. "I just wanted to see you."

You could never get mad at him. Not when you got to know him well aware of what his life was like. Not when he pursued you by showing you he can still be a gentleman despite his shady life. Not when he never gave you any reason not to trust him.

"I wanted to see you too," you reveal as if you didn't constantly wait for him. Sitting on this very couch every night, longing for that knock on the door you always know it's him. "I don't mind taking care of you."

"I should be the one doing that." Vernon's hands fix their grip on your hips, reminding you that they're still there, holding you close to him.

"Well, I'm not the one getting into fights with 6 feet tall buff guys on the daily."

He chuckles, full of endearment, and your stomach tightens. If you could rank every sound you ever heard, Vernon's kinds of laughs and giggles would all be at the top, not a very close race with anything else. It's a distinguishable sound you never want to forget.

Your hand goes down the side of Vernon's neck, his pulse accelerating under your touch as you check to see if he's real, if he's really sitting on your couch with you straddling him.

His focus get lost on your touch now going down the side of his arm, and soon finds your hand with his. He interlocks his fingers with yours as soon as he gets a hold of it, directing your hand to his mouth and leaving a gentle but teasing kiss on the back of it.

"Vernon," you reprimand, but don't stop him as he places peck after peck everywhere on your hand, each triggering a wave of different feelings down your nervous system. He's uncontrollable and always finds the way to get you in the mood with him.

"You look so pretty over me, all worried." His hot breath tickles your fingers that were just taking care of him.

Your thumb swipes gently over his busted lip, raw from his habit of gnawing at them with his teeth and from the fight you're nursing him from. He purses his lips, teasing your awaiting skin, goosebumps waking up all over your body at the anticipation.

"You can't seriously be turned on by this," you snicker to try and hide the very real reactions he's eliciting from you.

His eyes snap back to you at your words, as if a challenge was set.

So quick you barely have time to register it, the hand at your hip travels to your lower back and Vernon's sliding you across his lap, showing off his strength to get you closer to his torso until you're completely against him.

Every part of you is against him. His right hand on your back, holding you electrically close to his growing hard, pulsing against your core. Your hand's held hostage by his left hand just above where your chest flushes against his.

"You have no idea how crazy I am for you." Every word he says reverberates through his chest and into yours.

Gasping is your only answer. You don't trust your ability to apeak properly in your current state of increasing bodily heat.

"When I wake up and you're not next to me," he continues, "my first thought is always to come looking for you." His fingers wander inside the big t-shirt you're wearing, one you stole from him after your first night together.

"Nothing stops you from staying the night here." Your voice draws the smirk back on his face.

"I'd stay here every night if it didn't mean putting you in danger." Longing bleeds through his words, true and hurt.

"But you'd be here to protect me." You're not naive. You know what he means. But that doesn't stop you from wanting to be close to him every second of every day.

Vernon nods in acknowledgment, a silent agreement between the two of you. It's dangerous. Everything about your relationship is risky. But even if he's willing to put himself at risk for the chance of seeing you, he'd never put you in danger. He'd never take that chance.

His lips kissing your hand again catch your attention, every fiber of your body now focused on his next move. Your fingers, cold against the warmness spreading across his face, seem to be the only thing on Vernon's mind.

When he wraps his mouth around your index finger, gently sucking on it with a new admiration, fire expands from your insides and out, taking everything with it, filling you with a new, unexpected want.

"Vern—" Your breath halts at the mention of his name, fueling his need as he dives in further, playing with his tongue around your finger like it was his new favorite toy.

You've never felt anything like this. A hot, sizzling arousal rushing through your veins at the sight of your boyfriend worshiping the fingers that were just nursing him.

A choked up moan escapes you as he sucks another finger in his mouth. Your index and middle finger are now coated in his spit, making a messy, wet toy out of your hand.

The couch moves just slightly as you push yourself against him at every swirl of his tongue, feeling his length hardening with every uncontrolled grind of your hips against his.

Vernon's other hand travels all over your torso, finding you're wearing no bra under the shirt that was once his. He loves making a moaning mess of you, mixing the arousal from sucking on your fingers with the touch you've been craving on your chest.

Everywhere. He's everywhere. His thighs under yours, his hard pressing against your barely covered core, his hand feeling your chest up as your fingers scrape the sides of his mouth.

Every second it passes, you search for more of him, pressing against his chest until he has trouble fondling your breasts.

He pulls your fingers out of his mouth slowly, a string of saliva connecting them with his lower lips stretching until it breaks, undoing the trance you were in while watching Vernon have his way.

"I should be taking care of you," your voice breaks into a whisper, your boyfriend’s dark stare punching away any thought you had.

"Having you on top of me is all I need," your wet fingers trace his jaw as he speaks, and he smirks at the sounds you make when he flicks one of your nipples with his thumb, "making you moan my name when I've barely touched you."

His eyes train on your parted lips, exhaling heavily as he plays with your nipples exactly how he knows you like it. You can only fist the stretched neckline of his t-shirt, making it worse but making it yours.

Your other hand finds the back of his head, his growing buzz-cut threading between your fingers.

"Have I told you I love your hair?" How you find it in you to speak is beyond your knowledge, but he chuckles at your nonsense, and the fire burning at the pit of your stomach spreads down your thighs and soaks your underwear further. "I love it so much."

Vernon's hard groin twitches under the needy grinding of your hips, his throat swallowing with trouble as you break down his facade little by little.

"Let me," you know he won't take his hands off of you willingly. You don't really want him to stop either, but you're focusing on him tonight.

He groans as you push yourself off him, quickly finding the zipper of his jeans. "Baby…" his words trail off seeing you kneeling on the floor against him.

Trying to slip his jeans and boxers down, he gives in and lifts his body to help you. He'd never deny you of anything you want.

You don't restrain yourself, your hands finding the flesh of his thighs and traveling up and up until you're barely touching where he most wants to.

But a hand sneaks under your jaw, tilting it up until you're connecting eyes with Vernon again. "Don't," you barely whisper, a plea for him to let you make him feel good.

"Want you on top," he doesn't ask, doesn't order you, only outers his wish, with his eyebrows quirking in the way that always has you melting for him, "I'd feel much, much better."

You snort with an endearing smile, "I thought you were fine." Even after your teasing remainder, you oblige what he wants.

"Every time you get off of me, I start feeling sick," he coughs a few times to get his point across, "my body needs you to feel well.

Vernon's always been able to make you laugh, even when you're on the brink of tearing all his clothes off. "Then we better listen!"

His bare legs find themselves under your weight again, the skin to skin contact igniting every connecting point of your bodies. You tug at the ends of his damaged t-shirt until he gets the hint you want it off.

Vernon groans as the dampness of your panties rubs against his length, gripping your hips to flush you against him harder, not wanting to wait any longer to feel you all over him. You waste no time, holding his face between your hands and closing the electrifying distance between you.

A moan fights out of him a soon as your lips take his, molding together perfectly, as if they were meant to be connected forever. You can feel where his lower lip is hurt, swiping your tongue over the bruise as he moans on your mouth again.

Your hand caresses the side of his face, not letting his lips go as the other travels down his heaving chest. His muscles tense under the teasing touch of your fingers, nails raking down his skin.

Another moan coming from him is exactly what you need as you sneak your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock that craves your touch.

He chases your lips as you lean back, revealing the state he's in, all because of you. His lips glisten with the mix of yours and his spit, parted and calling for you again as he catches his breath.

The changing shine in your eyes alerts him that you're planning something, an idea planted by the sight before you.

You swirl your tongue in your mouth, gathering as much spit as you can before locking eyes with him and letting it drop out of your lips, falling in a glob until it sits at the tip of his hardness.

Vernon's eyes darken at every one of your moves, his gaze entranced on your lips. Lips that were spilling all kinds of worried words minutes ago, and now are coating his cock with saliva so your hand can glide up and down at your desired pace.

"God, baby," your hand squeezes around him, spreading the mix of spit and precum so slowly on his girth that he's having trouble breathing, "you're so good to me."

The back of the couch holds his head as he leans back with another groan. His neck stretched out, glistening with sweat, calls to you. And who are you not to answer?

Your core traps his erection against your hand as you lean in, leaving wet kisses on your boyfriend's throat, feeling his every sound vibrating against your lips. He mumbles praises into the air, letting his hands wander across your back and squeezing your ass to press your further to him.

The wet fabric of your panties sticks to your folds in the shape of his length, everything pushing your cores together harder and harder. You let the swift rhythm of your hand on his cock and you grinding your covered clit against him take you to another world.

"Feel better?" Your lips graze the sensitive skin on his neck as you half ask half gasp.

Vernon's automatic response is to tighten his hold on your ass, grinding your hips against his with more force, the friction between your cores breathtaking. "I could," he teases.

"Greedy," your hot breath hits under his earlobe, and even you can feel the shiver going down Vernon's body.

His cock twitches as you slow down the pace of you hand. The combining feel of your folds and your hand stroking him almost make Vernon go crazy.

"You feel so good, baby," his eyes close in concentration, every touch of yours too much for him, "can't wait to be inside you."

In the midst of his senseless words and your desperate touches, Vernon finds the way to sneak a hand under you. Between his legs, his digits find the dampness growing at your core. "So wet already, for me."

Another hand grabs a fistful of your hair, detaching your mouth from licking your way up his jaw. He forces you to look at him, eyes full of desire, waiting for your answer.

"Yes—all for you-u," your words break in a moan as two fingers sneak under your panties, collecting your arousal and triggering another wave.

"Good." It is all for him. All because of him. The only one who can have you like this.

Smirking, his eyes lock in with yours, full of fire as his hand appears in your field of view. You don't stop looking into his eyes, the mischievous glint on them keeping you there, all while he sucks your juices off his fingers.

It takes all your strength to get up from the couch again, with only one objective in mind.

Your boyfriend gawks as if you were putting on a show only for him, slipping down his favorite panties, now stained with an unholy amount of juices. He stares with his mouth agape, but he's not patient. As soon as the fabric's off, he's grabbing your big t-shirt and pulling you towards him again.

Lips crash with lust and desperation, messily craving more and more. His teeth nibble at your lower lip, a matching bruise waiting to appear, but you don't care. You moan in his mouth, tangling your fingers with the short hair growing at the back of his head.

His thigh becomes a mess of your arousal, careless about your position as you let Vernon have his way into your mouth. Your tongues dance around the other, slowly melting into each other.

"Spit," you chase his lips as he separates to demand. Seeing his non-injured hand under your jaw, you quickly realize what he's doing.

Your living room's filled with gasping sounds and hot breaths, time stopping as your eyes lock. Vernon's eyes are on you as you let your spit drop into his hand.

You hover over his groin, dripping into his hand as he lowers it down between your cores. The tip of his cock grazes your entrance as he pumps his hard with his spit covered hand, the wet sounds reaching your ears.

Sinking down on your boyfriend's lap, the head of his cock enters you just right, your walls welcoming to mold into his shape.

Your lips stop working as you're filled to the brim, sitting on Vernon's thighs and gasping into his mouth trying to get used to the unprepared stretch.

As you're draped over his torso, he easily finds his way down your neck.

"Relax, baby," he says against the skin of your neck.

Every spot he knows you like, he kisses, whispering encouraging praise that gives you chills. Under your ear, along your jaw, over your pulse point, his lips press and suck at your skin, feeling how you warm up around him.

When he shifts his position slightly, his length pushes inside you just a bit more, your walls clamp against him, sucking him further inside in a whine, "That's it."

His husky voice goes through your ear and down to your core, and you swivel your hips up just to elicit another sound from him.

Vernon's hands find themselves gripping your hips again, helping you as you start a lazy pace on his lap. Your teeth sink down on the flesh between his shoulder and his neck, and he moans in your ear at the sensation.

"You'll have to take care of that one too," his breath tickles down your ear, and the vibrations of your chuckle almost make you lose your focus on him.

You kiss on the dent shaped like your teeth, "like you don't love it."

He hums a broken moan, the combination of everything you're giving him finally working like you intended.

Your walls tighten around him just as your fingers find his scalp, short nails raking between his growing buzz-cut trying to have him losing his mind under you.

It's not long before his hips join the fun, thrusting up to meet your pace and making you lose your breath. You feel him up to your throat, every place inside you marked with his name.

Vernon's hands roam all over your torso, indecisive, keeping you close but in the search for his favorite places to grope and touch. Your body's on the verge of giving out, and he knows it.

When he wraps his arms around your back and leans back against the couch, flushing your chest completely against his, you both lose it.

You're not in control anymore, if you ever were. Your knees barely stay at his sides as he thrusts up incessantly, the sounds of your ass slapping against the flesh of his thighs echoing around your living room.

But his groaning in your ear, his rambling words about how good you are for him, are only for you to hear.

Intercalating between lazy and desperate, no matter the time or the place, Vernon always finds that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

So quickly, it'd be embarrassing if it was anyone else, your body starts quivering, every one of your senses losing focus as your insides get closer and closer to snapping.

"I'm c-close," you manage to form a coherent string of words in between a few merciless thrusts.

"I can feel it—" a breathless whine mixes up between his words, "cum around me, baby." He's as desperate as you.

With everything combined, Vernon's noises on your ear, his arms tight around you, and every spot inside you being abused at once, the world becomes a blur of fire and white light as your orgasm rips through you.

Your body shakes on top of him as Vernon chases his own orgasm, stretching yours for as long as his cock grinds inside you with a purpose. But he's a weak man when it comes to you, and with the way your walls clamp hard around him, making him work for every thrust, it's not long before he's lost too.

You feel the ropes of cum coating your walls, his length twitching as you take it all. All of him inside you as if you were one.

Silence, deep breaths and the smell of sex fill the room as your bodies take in everything you just did.

Only when Vernon's lips kiss along your shoulder, you realize he's still inside you, and you shouldn't rest.

"I have the best nurse ever," Vernon chuckles along his words as you get up from his lap to find your discarded panties.

Everything is still the same. His clothes disregarded on the floor, the flowers sitting on a vase you haven't seen since you moved in.

You turn around to find him putting on his boxers, his eyes a promise that he's not done with you yet, "I don't think a good nurse would recommend this type of cardio after a fight."

"Then I don't trust them."

Chuckling again, and knowing he'll join you later in the shower, you fall between his arms again, laying together on the couch like you've done so many times before.

Now is your turn to look up at him, the fire in his eyes not gone, but now overpowered by endearment.

You don't want to. You really don't want to. But your eyes close with tiredness, and the rhythm of Vernon's breathing is so serene that you fall asleep in his arms.

There, in your couch, everything around you forgotten and replaced by him.

note: thank you so much for reading! pls share your thoughts I'd love to read them ♥︎