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natasha-in-space · 2 years

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Mystic Messenger cuddling headcanons

The whole gang's here! I wanted to do this for a while now, and it was super fun to write out my thoughts on each of them in detail ^^

Yoosung

He has no particular preference when it comes to being the big spoon or the little spoon. It all depends on your mood when you two finally collapse into each other's arms at the end of the day. Whoever needs more comfort will get it! When it comes to his favorite position though, he definitely has a huge weakness for cuddling while facing each other and sharing long meaningful conversations for hours on end. His grip on you is not too strong or too weak - it's the perfect balance to make you feel safe and loved within his arms. Yoosung is prone to light snoring if he's in a very deep sleep, but it barely bothers you. You even find it cute! And you definitely did not record your boyfriend's snoring on more than one occasion- He's not picky and can fall asleep pretty much anywhere. Being a college student has taught him the importance of getting enough sleep, and he has no problems in doing that, aside from getting too immersed in his hobbies throughout the evening. Still, he has you to always remind him when he's getting too carried away, and cuddles with you will always be far more enjoyable than any tasks keeping him away.

Zen

He's mostly the big spoon because he really enjoys providing you with a feeling of safety and comfort you might need. Having you happily snuggled up inside his arms makes him feel so happy and content at the end of the day, and your cuddles are something that he definitely looks forward to throughout his exhausting rehearsals. His favorite position would be him happily napping on his back with a moisturizing mask plastered on his face, while you are laying sprawled out on his chest with your cheek pressed up against his collarbone. You're like a living weighed blanket, only ten times better because of how cute you are! Zen's ideal bed would consist of one thick blanket and a shared pillow. Though, he's not a picky guy at all, and if you have other preferences, he's more than willing to work it out with you as you go.

Jaehee

Deep down, she's actually a huge softie, and when it comes to cuddling? Yeah, she's definitely a little spoon. It takes her a while to get comfortable enough with her feelings toward you, since she never actually felt this connected to someone throughout her lifetime. She can still get just a tiny bit flustered whenever you hold her in your arms, so she'll press her face into your chest and hope that you won't hear just how fast her heart is beating right now. It's adorable, really. Jaehee has struggled with sleep for so long, and she'll make sure to let you know of every possible problem that could arise from you two sharing a bed. She may or may not overanalyze the tiniest of inconveniences in the process, but with your encouragement, you two will quickly figure everything out. She has nightmares occasionally, however, you'll never know about them, unless you're someone who is a very light sleeper. The only signs of Jaehee having a nightmare is her suddenly jolting awake in the middle of the night with quick shallow breaths escaping past her lips. She would never try and disturb your sleep because of her own troubles, but she might get out of bed to make herself a relaxing cup of tea if the nightmare was especially stressful. If you do wake up and ask her about it, she won't try to hide anything from you. She trusts you enough to share her unpleasant experiences and rely on you in times of need. She just needs a little nudge from time to time.

Jumin

Jumin can and will go both ways when it comes to cuddling. Being the big spoon? He adores the feeling of having you nestled up all comfortable in his arms. Being the little spoon? He never knew just how nice it is to have someone lovingly stroke your cheeks and kiss your forehead at the end of the day. He has no particular preference in that regard. Just being close to you is more than enough to please this man's soft heart. The thing he absolutely adores though, is the feeling of your legs crossed over each other. It's like you become one living being, and there's nothing more magical and comforting than that. Jumin will read you to bed every once in a while! This may come as a surprise to you, but he really likes to read and analyze classic fairytales. The process of reading something aloud relaxes him, and the sound of his voice lulls you to sleep. It's the perfect compromise. If you'd like it, he would love to start a book club of sorts with you. You'll compile a list of books you'd like to read, and he will gradually go through them all as the days go by. Reading is not a race, and sharing something like this with his loved one makes him really happy. Jumin is a huge softie when it comes to you, so expect lots of gentle touches and tender kisses both when you're falling asleep and waking up the next morning. Elizabeth does get a bit jealous from time to time, but she quickly calms down once you lay her down on the bed with you two and give her the attention she deserves. It's a small family of three, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Saeyoung

Saeyoung mostly plays the role of the big spoon in your relationship, but there are occasional exceptions to that. He's a very affectionate guy, so it's not a surprise at all that he simply adores cuddling in all its forms. He's very similar to a needy cat in that regard. Sprawling out on your lap while you're trying to get some work done and he wants some attention from you? Been there, done that. Randomly hugging you from behind and staying like that for like half an hour waddling after you, as you go through your tasks? Well, he does that almost every day. Having you sit on his lap while he tinkers away at his new toys? Be prepared for some neck kisses and sweet nothings being whispered into your ears, because he loves seeing you blush and squirm at his antics. Still, this totally goes both ways for you two, so it's not an unusual sight to see him flushing as red as a ripe tomato at something you've said or done. You two are a silly couple who love each other to the moon and back, and everyone can see that clear as day. Saeyoung likes to hold you close as you lay on the bed facing each other. It's not rare for you two to talk for hours on end, bouncing from one topic to the next. When it comes to sleeping itself, he's not picky at all, but he prefers it when he can get two pillows and a light blanket to cover himself with. If you need a thick one, you two might need to look into getting two blankets for each of you, because he will sweat like crazy, especially with you nestled up next to him. This man is naturally very warm, so don't overheat him too much!

Jihyun

This man is a little spoon through and through. He needs to be held and kissed till he absolutely melts into your embrace. His touch is so incredibly gentle, sometimes it's hard to tell that he's even there, which amazes you up to this day. Jihyun is not used to being held and pampered, so it's a work in progress with him. It doesn't mean that he does not like your affections - quite the opposite, actually - but he can get overwhelmed sometimes and not know what to do for a minute or two. He's never even been hugged properly, so cuddling? It's a huge step, especially when it comes to him receiving the affection, rather than the other way around. He's so used to being the giver in his other relationships, that it's hard to allow himself to be the receiver this time around. Good and healthy communication is key, and he's more than willing to work on himself, both for your and his own happiness! Still, he suffers from nightmares quite often. His many regrets in life can weigh heavy on his shoulders even as many years pass you by, and sometimes, they follow him into his dreams as well. He may wake up gasping for air, anxiously looking over his body, only to tell you a while later, that he had a nightmare of the very fire that killed his mother. Or, he might call out someone's name in pure desperation and anguish, as his hand reaches forward to stop someone he can't see. He feels very bad whenever he wakes you because of his own troubles, but having you near him brings him so much peace, that it's practically impossible to push you away. Instead, you two go out for a short walk in the park, enjoying the quiet beauty of nature around you, and finding comfort in your hands, tightly laced together as you walk.

Ray

He wants to be the big spoon for you, but deep down? He's definitely the little spoon, no doubt about that. It's hard to get him to fall asleep next to you, but once you manage to convince him to do it... the longing to do that again will keep gnawing at him ever since. Ray is extremely nervous that he'll mess something up, so it'll be better for you to coax him throughout the process the first time around. Make sure to reassure him that he's not doing anything wrong! As long as you keep smiling at him and babbling away with no care in the world, he will gradually relax. You'll even notice him smiling softly in the corners of your eyes, because he finds you so incredibly adorable as you talk about this and that. He's way too embarrassed to admit it, but his all-time favorite position would be to lay there facing each other, with your arms gently wrapped around his torso to keep him safe and sound beside you. Especially when you eventually fall asleep and he can admire your beauty up close without any fear of you finding him staring this intently weird or unpleasant. He may or may not kiss your cheek while you're snoozing away. The other thing he loves is doing your hair before you go to bed. If you have long or medium-length hair? He'll brush it and braid it for you. You have short hair? He will make sure to put on any hair care products you use and give your hair a quick brush. His fingers are trained to take good care of his Saviour's hair, so you definitely don't have to worry about him pulling on your hair or messing something up. He'll even research your hair type in his free time, to make sure you get the best care possible! Whenever he's not having nightmares, he looks so incredibly peaceful and almost childlike in his sleep, it makes you wish you'd do this more often for him. His breathing is so light, you kinda get scared whether he's breathing or not, however silly this may sound. Ray is similar to a cat in a very deep sleep in that regard.

Suit Saeran

Uhhh... That's a hard one to crack for sure. This Saeran really needs to get held and pampered, but he'll rather break up into atoms than admit it outright. There are really only two scenarios when you'll get lucky enough to cuddle with him. The first one is if you've done it with Ray before. Saeran can and probably will try to 'replicate' the experience to toy with you and ridicule Ray's childish desires. So, that's how you will find yourself laying in your bed with your face pressed up against his chest. You will not get the privilege of seeing his face, and that is definitely not because of how warm his cheeks got from being this close to you. It's an awkward and confusing experience for both of you. Saeran is genuinely doing his best to keep up the act of total indifference, but he fails miserably, to his utter dismay and confusion. His hands are trembling as he tugs at your clothes, his voice sounds way too gruff and shaky for his liking, and his heart is beating so fast it's embarrassing. He does try to convince both you and himself, that it is because of disgust, but... it's not very convincing. Best case scenario: he'll eventually leave you laying on the bed in a hurry, and you won't hear from him for a few hours. Worst case scenario: you say something he really doesn't like, and that sets him off. He'll shove you off and scream at you for being so frustrating, for acting so arrogant, for messing with his head. He'll slam the door shut, and you'll hear his heavy footsteps slowly getting further away. Second scenario: you'll coax him to lay with you after his apology. He'll be very reluctant to do so at first, but if you'll gently squeeze his hand and reassure him that you do genuinely want him to stay with you, he just might cave into your request. He'll be extremely skittish and surprisingly tender with you this time around, and you will have to be the one initiating the contact. He's just afraid of hurting you again. This form of intimacy is so incredibly foreign to him, and it's hard to imagine that these hands of his can be the source of comfort to somebody in this way. You'll lay there, facing each other and gazing into each other's eyes. Saeran looks so incredibly exhausted, and all you want to do is hold him close and keep him safe inside your arms. And if you do pull him closer? If you start carefully caressing his hair and whispering sweet nothings into his ears? You'll eventually feel him start to shake slightly against you as silent sobs overtake his thin form. But, you will not let go of him this time. And judging by his tight hold on you? He doesn't want you to do that either.

GE Saeran

He's mostly the little spoon, but he doesn't mind being the big spoon every once in a while. Saeran is tremendously affectionate toward you, so daily cuddles are a total must! Casual cuddling is also important to you two. If you're sitting next to each other? You'll be cuddling, doesn't matter where you are. It's nothing explicit, he just loves being physically close to you and feeling your warmth flood his body. Prefers cuddling while facing each other. Having your arms hold onto him so securely, while you're talking about your day is pure heaven to him. Your voice has always been a huge comfort to him, which is why it's not rare for him to ask you to talk about whatever you want. He'll listen. Be it your special interests, how you're feeling at the moment, or what happened during your day - it will make him smile regardless of the topic. You could tell him the most boring story ever and he'll absolutely adore it because it's something important to you, and that means that he'll be fully engaged instantly. After all, he knows from experience how hard it can be, when nobody's interested in what you have to say, however small it may be. Unfortunately, nightmares are a common occurrence for you two. The difference is, with time, he'll stop waking up from them all together. He'll just get up the next morning as if nothing ever happened, although he's completely open to talking about it with you, if you'll bring it up with him. Instead of waking him from his slumber, you'll reach out for his hand, quietly assuring him that he's okay and that he's safe. He might not hear you, but your presence does bring him peace. His nightmares will get rarer with time, thanks to therapy and his own progress in life. It's a work in progress, but he's got a sturdy support system by his side to help him get through the hurdles as they go!

Unknown

Okay so, he's definitely not the cuddliest guy around. But, surprisingly, it's not impossible to get him to snuggle with you! Just don't say that that's what you two are doing right now. That's the rule. See, the room he works in is cold. And not just cold, it's borderline freezing cold. Your only saving grace is being plopped up onto his lap, which gives you the opportunity to try and cuddle up to him in search of warmth. Unknown is not that warm in temperature, but he's not freezing either, except for his fingers which are super cold to the touch. If you do that carefully enough to not disturb him from his precious work, you might get lucky enough to stay snuggled up next to your boss for the time being. For all his teasing, he's pretty oblivious when it comes to societal norms. If he knew that by having you pressed up against his chest, with him placing his chin onto your shoulder for a better view of his workspace, you're basically cuddling? Yeah, he wouldn't put up with that. But hey, he has no idea, and in his worldview, he's keeping an eye on you, so that you won't do anything stupid. What you don't know won't kill you. And... it's nice to have something, or someone, to help him ground himself whenever he gets so lost in his routine, it's hard to distinguish reality from fiction. He never mentions the reason behind his fingers absentmindedly finding themselves fiddling with your hair or drawing invisible patterns on the skin of your thighs. He just... likes it. There are a lot of things that you two never speak about. It's a two-sided blade, really. The other times when you'll be 'cuddling' is whenever any one of you is suffering particularly badly from the effects of the elixir. Oftentimes, it's hard to remember what exactly happened to you under the haze of the drug, which is why it's so easy to allow yourself to be just a little bit braver. You'll hold him close, rubbing his back and promising him that everything will be alright, as he feverishly clings to you in futile attempts to numb the pain. And Unknown will begrudgingly tuck you into bed whenever you're the one suffering through the same pain in return. Against his indifferent demeanor, he will stay by your side until you fall asleep, checking up on your temperature and making sure that nothing goes terribly wrong. You'll awake the next day with a wet towel draped over your forehead and a glass of water resting on the bedside table.

SE Saeran

It will take him a while to feel comfortable enough to try full-on cuddling with you. It's nothing against you, Saeran really enjoys being close to you, but he's just... It's scary letting someone share such an intimate experience with you. You'll sit side by side and you'll hold hands most of the time. Occasionally, he will carefully lay his head onto your shoulder, if he's feeling especially peaceful and content in the moment. It's the silent sort of closeness where no words are needed to understand each other. You know he loves you, and you don't need him to break his boundaries to prove that. When he does feel ready to share this new level of intimacy with you, he's going to be a little bit stiff. He'll be laying on his back with his arm carefully wrapped around your waist, while you tentatively nestle yourself close to his side, pressing your cheek to his chest and feeling his heart drum away right beside your ear. You'll rest like this for about half an hour, before you decide to pull apart and make sure that everything is okay. You'll see the tiniest of smiles stretch out the corners of his lips, but it radiates with so much warmth, you can't help but get a little bit choked up. It'll still take you two a lot of time before you finally decide to try sleeping together in a single bed, though. His nightmares cause more than enough harm to him alone, and the last thing Saeran wants is to hurt you, even if he does it on accident. You two make sure to speak about these things openly and come to a shared decision. Nevertheless, short naps on the couch are more than okay, which is why it's not unusual to find you two huddled up under a fluffy blanket in the middle of the day. He's not a heavy sleeper, but not a light one either. It really depends on his mood before he falls asleep. Saeran is the most vulnerable when he's asleep, so it's a huge representation of his utmost trust in you if he allows you to be near him in those moments.

Rika

Deep inside, she's a huge cuddle bug, she just needs a little encouragement to be open with her desires! Healthy and open communication is key, and she's more than willing to put in the work in order to make your relationship prosper. She has her good days and her bad days, which is why it's so important for you two to always keep in contact regarding your mood. Rika is doing her best in therapy, but the road to recovery is a bumpy one. She really enjoys being both on the receiving and giving end when it comes to cuddling, so she's not picky at all. It should be noted though, that it's pretty hard for her to be the big spoon because of her small size, but she's more stubborn than she might seem to you at the first glance. She will make it work one way or another! Rika adores it whenever you let her rest her head on your lap. Feeling your fingers gently running through her hair and being able to look up at you any time she wants is pure bliss to her. You look just like an angel in her eyes, and if you'll lean over to place a quick kiss on the tip of her nose? She'll turn into a blushy puddle in an instant. Sadly for her, she looks way too adorable whenever she tries to hide her burning face inside her blonde locks, which is why you'll never stop trying to sweep her off her feet. She's extremely doting on her partner, so expect a lot of kisses. In fact, her kisses are pretty much your new alarm clock, since she's an early bird at heart. The other thing she loves is having long meaningful conversations while cuddling. She tends to get carried away with her thoughts, but you're always more than happy to listen and make your own additions to her line of thought. Rika is pretty picky when it comes to how she wants to make her bed, and her preferences consist of two pillows and a thin blanket. She gets overheated easily under a thick blanket, which is why you might need to speak about that in advance.

Vanderwood

They're a self-certified big spoon, and it'll take you a while to convince them to try out playing the role of the little spoon for the sake of the experiment. And once they try it? There's no going back from that. They're a relatively silent cuddler, but you don't need words to convey the peaceful atmosphere that accompanies your cuddles. They'll place their chin on the top of your head and hold you close to their chest, drawing small circles on your back with their thumbs. In contrast to their bulky build, they're actually very tender with their touches. It's like they're afraid that they'll break you somehow if they press on you just a little too hard. Vanderwood loves to intertwine their legs with yours whenever you guys are snuggling. It makes them feel safe and connected to you on a deeply personal level. They often suffer from nightmares of their time in the agency, or of something horrible happening to you, so you'll need to be prepared for that. They might lash out the moment they awake since they're so used to seeing danger at every corner, but they'll never hurt you. It does upset them quite a bit whenever they see that frightened look on your face, but they won't push you away if you ask to stay with them. You'll make a warm cup of tea and talk about it once they're calm. Or, you won't. You never push them to talk about something they don't want to share. After all, you can only guess the horrors they've seen throughout their years in the agency. Some things are best left unsaid, and you'll stay by their side on every step of the way.

Bonus round!

Natasha

She's a little spoon at heart but prefers playing the role of the big spoon at first. She does have the tendency to care for her partner's needs before her own, and the notion of letting someone comfort her scares her a little. Some reassurance is definitely needed before she feels comfortable enough to relax in her partner's arms. Oddly enough, Natasha won't get that flustered when cuddling. Moreover, quite often she doesn't even realize that you two are actually cuddling till you verbally point it out to her. And that's the moment when her face will start to burn up with embarrassment as she stutters away in weak attempts to rationalize her behavior. She's a bit of a mess in that way. Will hug a pillow in her sleep, at all times. She won't fall asleep if she's not holding something close to her chest, her partner included. Natasha is an extremely deep sleeper. It gets so bad sometimes, that you have to actively shake her awake, and even that will take you some time before it works. It takes her a long time to fully wake up, so dealing with a very sleepy and drowsy Natasha in the morning is a routine at this point. She prefers sleeping under a thick blanket, but it's only because she gets cold very easily. As long as you keep her warm, she will fall asleep with no problems.

Chaewon

She's a big spoon, and there's no negotiation about that. And to her excuse, most of the time, it's hard for her to play the role of the little spoon even if she tries. Her big height, as well as her muscular build pretty much settle her as the one giving the cuddles in any relationship, and she's not complaining about that anyways. She likes the notion of providing someone with the feeling of safety and comfort in such a tender way. There's no need to put her life on the line, grit her teeth through the pain or tear down someone both physically and emotionally against her better judgment. She can just... hold someone, and that's more than enough for them. Sometimes, it's still hard to believe for her that something so simple could exist. When she gets further into a relationship, she'll start being way bolder with her affections. Her partner will have to be prepared to play the role of a huge teddy bear for Chaewon. She can and will pick you up, spin you around and carry you bridal style wherever she goes with relative ease. The other thing she loves is using her partner's lap as a pillow. She's quite similar to a sly cat in that way. It's not unusual for her to plop down onto your lap and raise an eyebrow at you expectantly. You already know what she wants! She does struggle with nightmares quite often, but she'll try desperately to hide them from her partner. After all, it's only dreams, they're not real. She's super stubborn, so you'll need to sit her down and lecture her about the importance of healthy communication before she grumpily agrees to talk about it with you. She's willing to learn, it just takes her some time.

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zoe-oneesama · 5 months

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All the Miraculous Requests I had from my Patrons in 2023! This isn't even including all the original OCs and akumas I got!

Ko-fi | Patreon

-Marinette in MY favorite outfit from Scarlet Lady (this one's from "Glaciator") -Chat Blanc and Marinette (specially SL Mari) -Marinette and Tikki sharing Hot Chocolate and Floral Cookies -My Akumanette Little Devil kissing Silencer -Kim and Ondine, Kim kissing her on the cheek -Penny and Jagged kissing -Marc and Nathaniel kissing -Rose and Juleka in their Princess Fragrance and Reflekta Scarlet Lady cover outfits -Nino and Adrien hugging -Good Lila with the Butterfly Miraculous -Good Gabriel with the Peacock Miraculous -Young Marianne with the Fox Miraculous -Original version of Evil Nathalie with the Peacock Miraculous -Bustier with the Bee Miraculous -Scarlet Lady version of Vanisher -MY favorite akuma aka Stormy Weather (I was literally asked to do my favorite lol) -Nathaniel in his Scarlet Lady "Reflekta" outfit -Caprikid wishing my Patron a Happy Birthday! -Gabriel horrified by a full glitter suit he's forced to wear -Ladybug in the Hades game style as a Goddess of Creation -Kagami. Just my baby girl Kagami. -Rose dressed in Pastel Goth Fashion -Rose dressed in a pink version of Chie Satonaka's (Persona) outfit because they share a Voice Actor -Juleka. My other baby girl Juleka. -Juleka in her "Style Queen"/"Queen Wasp" outfit from Scarlet Lady -Human Pollen -Human Nooroo

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kookslastbutton · 11 months

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Love's Remedy, On Fire ༓ jjk (m) l ch. I

✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.

Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,027

Warnings: jk is very cute and determined, jk a romantic, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), oc is not mean here but she teases jk, feat Jackson and Jae-beom, if i missed warning lmk!

Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+

A/N: um ok I swear this was supposed to be a pwp crack fic about jk wanting to get laid with a hat on. This turned into a very angsty but fluffy series and I'm sorry 😬 lmk what you think and tysm for reading! 💞 I know title is sucky

ch. lI >> | series masterlist

Over the entirety of his nineteen years, Jungkook was pushed to prepare for one thing—college entrance exams.

It was a huge deal and getting into one of the leading universities in South Korea was a must for him. You see, the Jeons were nobody to laugh at with the bulk of them being high-ranking medical doctors, engineers, and lawyers. Continuing this legacy, therefore, was far from a choice, Jungkook had to follow suit.

When the results of the exams came back Jungkook passed with flying colors. It wasn't a surprise though since he spent all his time studying his ass off until the dawn. Jungkook indeed got accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in Seoul and his parents, teachers, and friends were quick to give their congratulations. He felt good too...no, he felt damn good.

Now he was here he was, standing in the middle of campus with his bag slung over one shoulder and a few orientation papers in his hand. It was still the first week of classes and he desperately needed to get to the science building. (He had chosen to follow his father's footsteps and go into biochem).

"Excuse me," he asks with nervous eyes and a wobbling lip. "Do you happen to know where the science building is? I'm late for class but I can't seem to find it."

The student he walks up to for directions looks about his age. He isn't sure if she's in her first year like him but she looks competent with the way she's standing, feet spread apart and a hand on her hip. The skirt she's sporting is incredibly short but the top is full length. She's smacking on hot pink gum as well, popping bubbles every now and then.

"Keep walking straight until you see the statue of President Kim, then take a right. The science building will be right there." You hardly spare him a glance but you make the mental note that he's cute with his fluffy black hair and big lost eyes. You consider asking his name but you shrug the feeling. He was cute yes, but he was too cute which isn't your type.

Jungkook gives a small thank you and walks off. Your directions are vague, but hopefully finding the statue will help him. After a few steps, he looks over his shoulder to see you laughing with your friend.

You have a gorgeous smile.

Probably the last time he'll see you though, he thinks. Jungkook isn't sure how he'd be with a woman given the fact he's never been with one. Surely he'd do better than half the dumbasses out there but guys like him don't stand a chance with a woman like you.

You look like you go for the experienced type and that wasn't him. He goes back to what he was doing, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Hey man, what's your name?" A young guy with bleached blonde hair slides into the seat next to him. Apparently, he wasn't the only one late. "I'm Jackson." The man goes in for a fist bump but stops when it's very obvious it won't be reciprocated.

"I'm Jungkook," he says, more concentrated on what his professor is saying than anything else. Jackson continues talking, however, despite his focused state.

"So, I'm assuming this is your first year?" Jungkook nods. "Me too. Where you from?"

"Busan."

"Cool cool, I'm from Hong Kong." Hearing this makes Jungkook shift his eyes over immediately. The last thing he expected was to meet someone from China. Was this Jackson dude just pulling his leg or was he being serious? Nevertheless, it intrigues him.

"I'm an exchange student." Jackson clarifies. "Always wanted to see what South Korea was like and I know Seoul's got a pretty thriving economy so..." He shrugs. "Figured I'd give it a go and my parents support it. As long as I stay on my doctor's track of course."

Well damn. A doctor was not what Jungkook assumed a guy like Jackson would be going for. This was a prestigious school but it's still a gen ed class they're in right now. Anyone from most majors could be taking it. If he had to guess, Jackson would be a businessman.

"Well enough about me though," Jackson quips. "What do you study?"

"Biochem. My dad works as a physician and my mom's a chemical engineer. I'm going for pharmacology."

"Shit bro," Jackson cusses freely. Jungkook doesn't mean to jump in response but he does. Being all formal talk at home, it's unventured territory. "You guys must be a family of geniuses. Wait...what's your last name?"

"Jeon?"

Jackson nearly falls back in his chair when he hears the name fall from Jungkook's lips. He covers his mouth with both hands to keep himself under wraps. "Are you serious? You're from the Jeon family? Fuck, man, I've been hearing about your family since I was a kid that's how influential your family has been in the medical industry."

Jungkook finds himself intertwining his hands. His family is well-established in what they do but it never occurred to him that they were that well-known. Sure his dad's been featured in a couple of magazines for his work and his mom's been given several awards for her research. But he didn't think they'd gone that publicly beyond their own town.

"Oh shit I'm sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable talking about this? Promise you I'm not a creep or anything!" The urgency in Jackson's tone stirs up the classroom, peers looking over at the two of them in annoyance.

"Do you mind shutting up?" A chestnut-haired boy is the first to speak up. He looks thoroughly pissed, to say the least with his cat-like eyes narrowing at the both of them. "Some of us actually want to graduate here."

"Chill out man. We're sorry." Jackson gives Jungkook a small tight-lipped smile. "We'll talk later."

"We will?"

Jackson gives him a slap on the back. "Yeah it's a given. You and I," he gestures between the two of them. "We should stick together. Being that we're both new around here and we both studying med. Also, was going to wait to tell you but I wanna go to this awesome party that goes on that kicks off the year. You'd think I'd be confident to go by myself but if you're free, I could use a buddy."

A party. Some blonde-haired boy who could very likely become the center of attention wants him, Jeon Jungkook, to go to a party? Jungkook spends most of his time playing video games, studying chem tables, and watching p—well he shouldn't say that part out loud.

"If you don't want to then I get it." Jackson scratches his head. "I don't wanna pressure you or anything. We did just meet and I just thought you looked cool so...."

"Okay." Jungkook accepts before giving it much thought. Besides studying, he was told college was a time to also let loose and have fun. Freedom and all that. That's what his friends back home told him at least. They also mentioned getting laid but...who would give him that fat chance?

If anything, maybe he'll get a friend by going to this little party. Jungkook shoots a small smile in return.

"Okay listen," Jackson says, opening the door to his black Lexus. "I heard this party gets crazy so just be smart and don't get into too much punch."

Jungkook hops in the passenger seat. "But I love punch." He straps his seatbelt in, totally unaware of the punch Jackson"s referring to.

"It's spiked Kook. And I'm guessing your alcohol tolerance is pretty low?" Jackson twists the key and pulls out of the campus parking lot. He doesn't mean to be insulting or anything but his new buddy doesn't look like the party-hardy kinda guy.

In fact, Jungkook decided to....well, wear a hat to this gig. It's not a baseball cap, beanie, or even a greasy cowboy hat.

It's a sunhat. Black at least.

"By the way Jungkook. I don't wanna sound like a dick or anything but can you explain the thing on your head? Because the rest of you looks great, black dress shirt and jeans."

"Oh um." Jungkook rubs his hands on his thighs. He's embarrassed to tell Jackson the truth but he's his buddy now, right? Maybe this can be a bonding thing for them. "I thought it was cute? I mean I wanna...ah." Jungkook lets out a nervous chuckle.

"What is it, man? I promise I won't judge."

"I wanna," he starts again. "Uhm you see I heard that if you wear something out of the ordinary that people will like you more or something. Like they'll be interested..."

"Mhm, cute and out of the ordinary things huh? What kind of people are you trying to impress Jungkook?" Jackson gives a knowing smirk. Who knew his buddy schemes these kinds of stuff.

Jungkook speeds through the answer. "Grs."

"Say it properly and slower."

"Wanna get a girl....woman! I mean...a woman." Jungkook sheepishly grins at Jackson. Please don't laugh at me, he begs silently.

"You dog!" Jackson pushes Jungkook's shoulder. "My little buddy is a man, well well well. So are you looking for a girlfriend or something else?"

"Wife!" Jungkook bugs out his eyes, no hesitation at all. Jackson struggles not to give even the slightest snort. Didn't Jungkook know what kind of party this is?

"That's very sweet but this isn't the place you're going to find a wife, Jungkook. That's more like if we were going to a speed dating thing....this, this is a frat party, little bro."

Jackson pulls up to the front of the giant, lit-up house. They could hear electronic music blasting outside and all over the lawn were shirtless guys and scantily-dressed women. Some were off making out while others were drinking in groups.

Jungkook tenses at the sight. He used to fancy black tie parties where everyone is dressed to the hill and drinking is moderate. Jackson is right, he is not finding a wife here. Dammit. But he really doesn't want to give up his hat.

"Yo Jackson," a guy with pitch-black hair greets the man with a fist bump. So that's how it's done, Jungkook observes. "Glad you could make it!"

"Jae-beom, what's good man?! I wouldn't miss this party for the world. I brought a friend." He ushers Jungkook to come forward. "This is Jungkook. He's in my class."

"Nice to meet you Jungkook!" Jae-beom moves in for a fist bump which ends up making contact with Jungkook's fist. It's not as sharp as with Jackson but it's a fist bump. "I used to work with Jackson over the summer. Always stealing my tips this man!"

"Hey, I did not do that!" Jackson gives a hearty laugh and shoves Jae-beom hard enough for him to lose his balance a little. "You kept leaving for a smoke. I had to wait your tables half the time!"

"I wasn't going for a smoke Jack—woah hey baby. What's your name?" The man shifts his focus to the girl walking past them. She has bright red lipstick, a black crop top, and jean shorts.

"Fuck off." She snaps before looking at Jungkook. "Cute hat by the way."

Everyone looks at Jungkook at that moment who's motionless. They hope to god he says something back but he only stares. The girl smirks at him and quirks her head to the side. "What's your name? I gotta friend who'd be all over you in a heartbeat, though she'd never admit it."

Jackson throws a mouth over his hand, eyes wide in amusement. This girl did not just propose Jungkook, his buddy who's looking for a wife, to get off with her friend.

"Um...yeah no. No, it's okay but thanks." Jungkook can barely sound the words. This girl in front of him was really, really hot but intimidating. "Yes thank you but I'm looking for a..."

"Don't-" Jackson lunges forward.

"Wife." Jungkook smiles at the girl a little too angelically. "I'm Jungkook though. What's your name?"

The girl bites her lip. "Well, it's too bad then Jungkook. Because you're so fucking cute and I know you'd like each other. Why don't you meet her? Even if it's just to say hi?"

Jungkook looks at Jackson who only shrugs. "Up to you man."

Jungkook makes his way through the heavy crowd. He bumps into a few people on the way but thankfully he's able to still see the girl, apparently who goes by Crystal.

Jungkook isn't convinced it's her real name but if that's what she wants to be called who is he to dispute?

Once they get to the other side of the room, Jungkook spots a woman with a tight black dress on. It falls mid-thigh and has laced-up sides. When they near the woman Jungkook feels himself sweating bullets.

"__!" Crystal taps on your shoulder. "I brought you, someone, to meet. This is Jungkook!"

You turn around, drink in hand. You look fucking stunning. Jungkook can't believe it's you. He's seeing you again and he wishes he didn't wear this damn hat now! He goes to yank it off but Crystal stops him.

"Hey, the hat's cute. Keep it on!"

"I-but," he looks at you. "But it's making me hot." You're making me hot.

You give a shrug. "Do what you want Jungkook. It's your head at stake." You take a sip of your drink. You really did not expect to see the shy guy from this morning be at a frat party. "Good to see you again."

"Oh, you know each other?"

"We had a slight run in this morning. Baby had to get to the science building." You take a scan at what he's wearing. Black shirt that cuts at the elbows, denim jeans, and sneakers. Not bad compared to the sweater he was wearing this morning.

"I'm—I'm not a baby." Jungkook can't stop himself from feeling offended. Whether you meant it to be condescending or not, he doesn't want to be seen as a baby! Especially not to you. "I'm a man, okay? I go to the gym and stuff."

"Okay I'm sorry," you say. "I just call everyone baby. I didn't mean anything."

That doesn't seem to relax Jungkook. "I can lift a fuck ton of weights too." He stops once he hears himself cuss out loud. Usually, he does that in his head....goddamn it.

"Mmm," you step towards him, careful not to touch him. Usually by now you'd already be in the bathroom getting railed by some punk but not tonight. Jungkook has your attention. "Can you now? I'm not sure if I believe you. You're kind of a twig, not to be rude or anything."

Jungkook's face turns to a darker shade, eyes piercing into yours. "I can show you I'm not lying."

"Go ahead, do what you will." You fake a yawn until you find yourself suddenly in his arms. They're a lot stronger and more muscular than you thought. "Jungkook! Put me down!"

Everyone at the party starts staring over, giggling at each other. Jungkook gives a satisfied grin. "I have you in my arms, what are you gonna do now? Not believe me again?"

"I-" You're certain your face glowing with embarrassment. "Um no, I believe you Jungkook. Please, set me down."

"Not til you say it --." He challenges-brat. "Say I'm not a baby."

"Jungkook I told you I call everyone baby. It wasn't-okay you're not a baby. Obviously, you lift a lot now please put me down."

Finally, he does what you ask, a proud face on. His hat is a little crooked so you reach out and fix it. It's a reflexive response, you don't even know what you're doing let alone Jungkook.

"Oh, sorry your hat was just-"

"Please go out with me. On a date I mean?" He's so terribly timid but he can't help himself now. He had you in his arms and you're just so beautiful and charming. He needs to know more about you. It's a must.

"Well, I-" Everyone waits for your answer, very nosy clearly. You look at Jungkook with his big eyes and pouty lips. You don't wanna say no but relationships aren't your thing. And it seems that is defiantly all he's in for.

Jungkook's shoulders sulk. He isn't expecting a yes but he was hoping that maybe you'd give him a tiny chance.

"Come on __," Crystal whispers. "Look at him. Don't you think he's cute? Like really cute?"

You look at your best friend with weary eyes. He's so cute but, there's that but. That relationship but. He's going to be the type to want to do all the couple things and snuggle and everything. Jungkook needs someone who is willing to do all the stuff and you? You're not good at any of it.

"I'm sorry Jungkook," you start. "I don't know if-"

"One date __. If it's a no I won't bother you again. I just....I just think you're really gorgeous and I wanna get to know you. That's all." He takes the hat off his head, letting his fluffy hair run free. You kinda wanna touch it if it didn't makes things weird.

His words, however, make your heart thump the tiniest amount. The only time you've ever been called gorgeous is when guys try to get in your bed. It's all you've known other than maybe from a relative. Gorgeous is used pretty regularly, you know that, but this time it's used in an entirely different context.

"I'll tell you what," he says, pulling out his phone. "I'll give you my number and if you change your mind text me or call. I won't bug you and you can delete it right after this if you want, I promise."

You end up taking his number and Jungkook leaves to go back to his buddies. "You should go out with him __," Crystal says.

"I don't know." You watch him stride away. "I'll think about it."

A/N: what am i doing? Idk im running away now bye! lmk what you think and tysm for reading! Comment/ask to be on taglist 💞

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

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bettyfrommars · 4 months

Text

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 3: Crimson and Clover

Eddie x fem!Reader & Steve x older!OC

masterlist playlist

18+MDNI, not too many warnings for this part just mention of losing a parent, hint to an abusive relationship, alcohol consumption, tons of awkward flirting, eventual smut, but very much a slow burn. Steve is in his mid-late 20's, aunt Kim is mid 30's to early 40's, or whatever age you are, dear reader.

wc: 4.5k

Summary: Hello! We're getting to know a bit more about the character dynamics, listening to some of Eddie's thoughts, and catching a glimpse at a third possible romance on the horizon. Preparing us for the wild ride that starts in the next chapter.

Songs for this chapter: Under the Milky Way/The Church Edge of a Broken Heart/Vixen Seek and Destroy/Metallica

The shores of the resort were thick the next day with people who worshiped the sun, playfully kicking at the water in their bathing suits, stretched out in their lounge chairs, glistening in layers of Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil.

You, on the other hand, were still fully clothed, covered in SPF, under one of the big umbrella’s the resort offered with your headphones on to drown out the sound of the screaming children. Your dad was in the shade next to you, absorbed in a book, while aunt Kim caught some rays on her backside in a black one-piece that was high at the hip, flipping through an issue of People magazine. It was the Summer of Love issue celebrating the 1960’s with the Beatles on the front and the quote: “It’s 20 years later, do you know where your love beads are?”

“Don’t you want to get in the water, Bird?” Your aunt cooed politely, adjusting her big sunglasses on her face.

You shook your head, pulling your headphones down. “I think I’ve developed a phobia of public watering holes.”

“Suit yourself,” she sat up and brushed herself off. “I think I’ll take a quick dip.”

“Watch out for sharks,” you quipped, earning the weight of a magazine being thrown at your hip.

“This has been enough excitement for me,” your dad cleared his throat, placing a bookmark to save his spot, standing from his chair, knees popping. “I think I’ll head in, get some writing done before dinner.”

“Later dad,” you mumbled, wishing you had an excuse to hide in a room by yourself all day.

Once he was gone, Kim took a drink out of her water bottle and heaved a sigh. “I wish the two of you would give this place a chance. Look at that lake!” She stretched her arm out, pointing. “It’s breathtaking.”

You gazed out at the expanse of the cheery, vacation scene, bursting with melancholy. “Mom would’ve loved this place,” you choked on the last word, not sure where that fresh pang of emotion had come from.

Kim chewed the inside of her cheek, equally adrift in reverie, when a body stepped up to block the sun, putting her in its shadow. “I was hoping I’d run into you again.”

The body belonged to Steve, and he was shirtless, in a pair of navy-blue Staff swim trunks, short and slightly snug against his hairy thighs, and flip flops. His lips were glossy, and even though he wore sunglasses, he had to shield his face with his hand, squinting against the sun so hard that his top lip curled.

Kim tried to speak so fast she coughed, wondering if she looked too frumpy in the suit she had on. What was she thinking? He had to be a good 10 years younger than her, no way he was interested in—

“Kim, right?” He aimed a finger gun at her, but then he struggled a bit with your name, snapping his fingers to ignite recollection.

“And you’re Steve,” Kim's eyes couldn’t help but land on the silver chain nestled in his ample chest hair. “Did you, um, are you working on your tan?”

It took him a second to catch what she was referring to, and then he smirked, pulling a crumpled polo from his back pocket. “I jumped in to cover lifeguard duty for a buddy of mine,” and then he shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and so did she. “If you ever need a swimming lesson, I’m your guy.”

“You’re a swim instructor too?” Kim asked, impressed. Steve put his hands on his hips, accentuating broad shoulder muscles.

“Nah,” he shrugged, tucking his chin. “But I’d do my best.”

You dropped your gaze to the sketchbook you’d been doodling in, trying to pretend like you weren’t listening. From the headphones around your neck, the song Under the Milky Way by The Church played and a handful of kids ran by you giggling, dusting sand onto your blanket.

Steve wished you a good afternoon just before he excused himself, seemingly headed back to the pool area. You thought he’d been on his way somewhere else, but you were mistaken.

“I think he likes you,” you swirled a few doodles, raising an eyebrow.

“Noooo,” Kim gave a long protest, adjusting the straps of her bathing suit. “He works here, it’s his job to be friendly.

“Yeah? Is it his job to keep checking over his shoulder at you as he walks away?”

Kim peeked just as the man in question tripped over his own feet. Regaining his balance, he waved and said, “I’m okay,” and then proceeded to put his shirt back on as he approached the lifeguard station.

It was your turn to stiffen and feel tingly all over when you spotted Eddie strolling down the sidewalk from the main house, wearing a tool belt loose at his hips to accompany his denim and staff shirt attire.

From the way he knocked that Lance guy out with one punch the other night, you wondered if his hand hurt. Adjusting yourself, you wet your lips, as if he’d spot you or something, which was impossible from that distance. He cut in front of the fenced pool area, heading for the outdoor bar that had a thatched roof like you’d see at a tropical beach. For the first time that day, you noticed that Chrissy was working the area, carting fancy drinks around to the guests at the pool. Her blonde ponytail bobbed as she turned from what she was doing to talk to him.

She dipped her chin a few times in answer to whatever questions he was asking, and then he squeezed her arm affectionately before taking off again.

“Do you want anything from the bar?” You got to your feet, dropping your Walkman to the towel.

Kim cocked her head, considering the question. “Is it too early for alcohol?”

Eddie was back on the path, his back to you as he got further away, but your attention was on Chrissy mixing cocktails in a metal shaker.

“I can see if they have mimosas?” You weren’t thirsty, really, but you were curious.

Kim decided on a bloody mary and asked you to put it on her tab, slipping you a few bucks for a tip.

The smile Chrissy gave you as you approached was polite, but it did not reach her eyes. “What can I get for ya?”

You told her, fumbling over your words a bit, and then waited on one of the five stools for her to make your drinks. She scooped ice into a Styrofoam cup and tossed in a jigger of alcohol. You noticed a gold, heart shaped locket around her neck with something engraved on the front.

“Is it true you used to play with Vixen?” You asked, in awe.

Chrissy’s face fell and she paused to stare at you. “Who told you that?”

“Oh, um, Joyce, she, well—sounded like she was proud of you.”

Chrissy went back to work. “That was a long time ago, back when life was good.”

“It’s not good now?” You were intruding, and you knew it, but still, you couldn’t help yourself.

Chrissy scoffed. “You could say that. Lemon in your tea?”

You nodded, wondering if there was anything you could say or do to cheer her up.

“How long have you and Eddie been together?”

She frowned down at what she was doing. “Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” she corrected. “He’s like a brother to me. Known him since I was a kid.”

“Oh I see,” you pressed your lips together, trying not to appear relieved at that news.

There was a lull of silence as she finished up and you felt compelled to fill it. “I saw you play with the house band last night. I think you’re really talented.”

You could hear the click of her molars gnashing together when she placed both drinks in front of you. “Playing lame cover songs for a no-name house band is the best I can do with my life right now. Music is the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”

You used some of your own cash to give her an even bigger tip and scooped up your drinks.

“Hey, wait,” Chrissy called after you. She rubbed her forehead and tried to smile. “Listen, I’m sorry that I’m, that I’m being such a bitch,” she shrugged. “It’s been a shit couple days.”

You shook your head, cold drinks sweating in your hands, about to tell her that you understood, but the two of you were interrupted.

“Bird, there you are,” you froze at the sound of Troy’s voice. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the amenities.”

Troy had a green and white tennis outfit on with a racket in his hand, and you caught the way Chrissy tensed and quickly turned away at his entrance. She folded the tip you’d left and put it in the front pocket of her apron. He came up close to you—too close, invading your bubble—and so you shuffled back, bumping into one of the stools.

“The staff is treating you well, I hope?” He leaned against the tiki bar, and it was not lost on you that Chrissy pretended to be so busy she didn’t notice him.

“Just about to bring this to my aunt,” you lifted the red drink with the celery stick sticking out of it. You glanced at Chrissy, but she went to the other side of the bar to help someone else. “The service here is impeccable,” you said, loud enough for her to hear.

You headed out and he kept up, sticking by your side. “I’ll walk with you,” he winked.

“Great,” your smile was a tight, thin line.

—-------

Eddie bent at the waist to sip from the stone drinking fountain near one of the utility sheds and splashed water on his face a few times, combing wet fingers through his hair so that his bangs were off his forehead. He worked the cool water around the back of his neck, wondering if he had a sunburn. He loved Indiana for the fall colors and the long winters, but the summer? The summer heat could go fuck itself.

Water was still dripping from his chin and nose when Steve walked up, sunlight through the leaves making patterns on his face.

“Did Robin mention we need to borrow your van tomorrow night?” Steve bent down to take a sip from the fountain after he asked it.

Eddie pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, exposing his stomach and trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband. “As long as you don’t bring it back on empty. What’s wrong with your car?”

“We need to pick up a bunch of Robin’s stuff from her ex’s house,” Steve raised his brows high, locking them in place. “Girl is a bit of a psycho, I don’t want Robbie to go alone.

Over Steve’s shoulder, he caught sight of you making your way back to the umbrella with Troy by your side and he hoped that you were smart enough to know that guy was a piece of shit.

“I work late tomorrow, but I’ll help you unload when you get back,” the tip of Eddie’s tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, eyes darting to you again. You weren’t some goddess from the cover of a hotrod magazine, or one of the metal babes who always tried to go down on him when he used to play shows with his old band, but yet, without knowing anything about you, the sight of you made his heart jump into his throat.

“Nah, we got it,” Steve talked as the two started walking. “It’s just a mattress and a chair and some clothes I think. I told her just to let them go, but it's the principle I suppose.”

“I get it man, believe me,” Eddie once drove three states just to get a rare Scorpions concert tee back from an ex who stomped his heart.

“Hey,” Eddie caught Steve before he headed off in the other direction. “Jam at the Hideout tonight?”

They bumped fists. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

—-------

The movie Casablanca was the offering at the outdoor theater that night, and respective families cuddled on the lawn on their various blankets and camp chairs under cover of generous tree branches. Halfway through, you excused yourself from your aunt’s company to find the restroom, and that was when you spotted Chrissy and Troy having what appeared to be a heated conversion at the curve of the sidewalk near the rose garden. You ducked behind a tree just as Humphrey Bogart said one of his infamous lines on the screen.

Since everyone’s attention was occupied elsewhere, no one but you saw the way Chrissy pointed in Troy’s face, only for him to snatch her wrist in a way that made you gasp. She yanked her arm away and turned on her heel, but then he caught up and lunged in front of her. Whatever he said to her then calmed things down for a moment, she stopped trying to break free, and then he cupped her face as if he were about to kiss her, but she shoved away again. That time, he let her go. Hands balled into fists in his pockets, head down, he stormed off in the opposite direction, toward you.

You stood very still, hoping to be mistaken for the thick trunk of the tree, and thankfully, it worked. You came around to glare at his backside, but then trotted after Chrissy. She was long gone, walking as fast as her feet could carry her along the treeline, and you didn’t think she’d appreciate you screaming her name at the top of your lungs in front of the other guests.

It was pure luck that made you take notice of something shiny on the ground, a pile of glistening gold on the sidewalk.

It was a necklace, a heart locket to be exact, much like the one you’d noticed around Chrissy’s neck earlier that day. You ran your thumb over the engraving on the front and let the delicate chain drag along the back of your hand.

You were sure that it belonged to Chrissy, the clasp must’ve broken during the struggle with Troy. You had to get it back to her somehow.

—-------

“Where are you going?” Your dad asked as you sailed through the living room on your way to the door later that evening. He looked at his wristwatch. “It’s almost 11.”

You’d planned on him being in bed already. “I, well, I ahh—” you scrambled for an excuse, something that wasn’t “I’m going off the property to where people fight and get drunk and listen to metal”. You were 21 and technically, by the law of the land, could do anything you wanted, but anyone who has ever traveled with family is familiar with the tendency to be treated like a child infinitely. He loved you, he worried about you, and you didn’t want him to stay up all night pacing, so, you lied.

“There’s a meteor shower tonight, and a bunch of the guests are watching from the boat docks,” god, you hoped he wouldn’t fact check you on that.

He shuffled some saltines absently out of a tin. “You’re still coming on the boat with us tomorrow morning?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you beamed, clenching the front of your jean jacket closed to hide the revealing shirt you wore underneath.

You raced down the porch steps once you were able, dashing into the night with Chrissy’s necklace safe in your pocket.

—-----

A guy in a Black Sabbath shirt and a drastic mullet with hair down his shoulders moved out of the way for you as you crossed the bridge, and then you had to stand there and take a breath. Robin wasn’t with you and you hadn’t been invited to the Hideout this time, maybe they wouldn’t want you? Surely you could find Chrissy at work the next day and give her the necklace then? Fuck it, you were almost there.

You could hear the shrill feedback from a guitar and then someone speaking into a microphone. Was that Eddie’s voice? Your heart raced. People cheered at whatever was said, and then the drum beat kicked in a few times, followed by guitar riffs, and a woman’s voice singing the Vixen intro to Edge of a Broken Heart.

“I can't believe I could have been so blind

But love is strange

I thought about it for a long long time

But the truth remains”

You could feel the music in your chest. Was that Chrissy? Perhaps it was the “band practice” Robin told you about, but the music didn’t sound at all like what you’d expect to hear from the conservative house band. The sliding door was open once you were in view, with people mingling outside, and you dodged around them, sucking in a plume of secondhand smoke from a passerby.

Slithering through a few more bodies, you stepped right over the spot where Lance had gone down the night before, and then you had the perfect view of Chrissy exercising her impressive pipes on the microphone under a few ropes of tiny, pale string lights.

Steve was on bass, hair flopping in his face, his mouth holding an “O” shape as he played. He had on a thin white tee that was soaked through with sweat on the front atop belted blue jeans. Eddie arched back, exposing his throat, his fingers deftly working the strings on his smoke black Warlock guitar. He had a Bark at the Moon shirt on with wide, ripped out arm holes exposing the tattoo work on his ribs. His hair hung in his face when he bent over to play, a frown of concentration knitting his brows together.

Chrissy jabbed her fist in the air for the chorus and the crowd screamed it:

“I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

I don't wanna fall, I don't wanna crawl

I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

Don't you wonder why I gotta say goodbye”

She commanded the stage, playing guitar as she sang. You were too absorbed to realize that you had made your way forward and were right there front and center when Eddie glanced up.

He wasn’t expecting to see you, so he did a dramatic double take, nostrils flaring the moment your eyes connected. Why couldn’t you just stay away?

A smile teased at the corners of your mouth, but faded to an unsure lip bite when he averted his gaze, scowl deepening. He ignored you for the rest of the song.

When it was over, there were cheers and whistles all around. The drummer with the mop of tawny hair twirled one of their drumsticks in the air with a flourish and caught it, clapping the high hat. Voices murmured around you as people fell back into conversation while they had a break from the volume of the amps, and you shuffled to the side, following Chrissy as she took her guitar off and held it by the fretboard. She had on a cropped shirt with her shorts, golden hair loose and wild around her shoulders, her short fingernails painted black. There were a few old, wooden apple box crates stacked on top of each other to act as a makeshift table, and she grabbed the neck of the beer that was waiting there to take a sip.

Eddie continued to play, wailing on the guitar with precision, while Steve and the drummer followed his lead to the tune of Seek and Destroy by Metallica.

You tapped Chrissy on the shoulder, and she jumped. “Oh shit, you scared me,” she said, spinning around. She checked around as if she were expecting to see someone else there. “Where’s Robin? Is she with you?”

“No, I, just a sec—” you dug around in the front pocket of your jacket, panicking for a moment that you forgot to bring the locket with you. “I found this on the sidewalk, and I thought maybe you dropped it?”

Chrissy gasped at the sight of it and her eyes began to water. “How did you–?” A sob caught in her throat, and she reached out to gently take it from you. She shook her head in disbelief. “I looked everywhere, I thought it was gone forever, I—”

“I thought that was you!” It was Robin, bobbing on the balls of her feet as she came up to nudge your shoulder. But then, her attention turned to Chrissy and her face tensed with concern. “What happened, why are you crying?”

“No, no,” Chrissy sniffed and opened her fist to show Robin the piece of jewelry. “It’s my grandmother’s locket I told you about. Bird found it.”

Robin bent to get a closer look and the two women knocked their heads together, sharing a laugh. “The clasp is broken though,” Chrissy mused. “It must’ve come off when—” she swallowed, deciding not to finish that sentence. “I’ll take it into town to get it fixed this weekend.”

“Give it here, I’ll fix it for you,” Robin volunteered. “Not only can I unclog a toilet, but I’m also pretty crafty.”

“Y-you’d do that for me?” She asked as she was passing it over.

“Of course,” Robin chuckled. “I’d do anything for y—I mean, what are friends for right?”

Chrissy turned her attention back to thank you properly when Steve pushed in between the other two girls and slung his arms around their shoulders. “What's going on?”

Robin cringed. “Gross, Dingus, you’re all sweaty,” to which he shook his head and droplets from his hair flew everywhere, making the girls scream and push him off.

The three of them got into conversation about something and you sank back against the corrugated metal wall to observe. You hadn’t noticed the music stopped but the drummer was in the crowd having a beer and just as you were on your toes trying to find Eddie, a warm body sank in next to you.

“Hey,” Eddie said.

You looked just in time to catch his gaze traveling down your body, but then he was quick to lift his beer to his mouth and pretended to be watching the crowd.

“Hey,” you returned, suddenly full sentences and conversation felt so foreign. You were acutely aware that there was plenty of space along the wall, but he was pressed close, bare arm touching yours.

“They let you stay out this late on a school night?” He grinned against the aluminum rim, amusing himself. He had a second beer in his other hand, and he passed it to you.

“Ha. Ha.”

He had one knee bent with his foot on the wall while the other leg stretched long to show the heavily scuffed toe of his black boot.

You shuddered despite the heat. “So, how long have you and Chrissy been playing music together?”

He hummed, shifting so that his bicep rubbed against you, squinting one eye shut in thought, tilting his head back. “Been something like a decade now, I think? Feels longer. Feels like I’m 60 years old some days.”

“How old are you though?” You swallowed so hard your throat clicked. “45? 50?”

He leaned into you, hard enough to push you over if your feet weren’t planted, his hair skimming your shoulder. “Close enough,” he paused to say something else, but then puffed out his cheeks and exhaled.

He wanted to ask how long you’d been playing the cello, but how would he even know you did without admitting he’d watched you that night from the street like a stalker? “Do you think you’re gonna stick around, watch us play some more?”

“I could,” you were about to add something super cheesy like, “if you want me to,” but opted for nonchalant. “I love watching Chrissy play.”

He nodded a few times, and pushed off the wall, handing you his beer. “Hold this for me?” His silky brown eyes locked onto yours, the tip of his tongue resting between parted lips. “Please?”

There you were, holding Eddie Munson’s beer. He got behind the mic and took his shirt all the way off to wipe his face with it before strapping his guitar on. The next song they did was an original, something that Eddie and Chrissy wrote, and Chrissy came in on backup vocals, while Eddie growled out the lyrics, banging his head every so often. He swiped his bangs from his forehead, wet with perspiration, and his fingers worked like magic along the strings. At one point, he and Chrissy shared the same mic, belting out the words.

He made eye contact with you three times, not that you were counting. Each time longer than the last. When it was over, he came out and took his beer from you, fingers touching as he did so.

“Eddie, I think I—” you were about to let him know you should probably get going, but he’d already turned, chugging the rest of the beer as he went, and then they were right into the next song.

Eddie wasn’t sure why you made him so curious, but the voices in his head were screaming at him to shake it off. Somehow, he’d gone four years without getting involved with a summer person, he’d never even been tempted really. Nothing good could come of it, especially since he’d probably end up being nothing but a vacation fuck for you to brag to your friends about.

He glanced around but couldn’t find you during the song. When he went to check for you at the wall, you were gone.

---

thank you again for the love on this and for reading!

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taglist: @micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch @ohmeg@marrowfrog00

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson fic #Dirty Metal Summer #dms updates #Steve Harrington #Eddie munson x fem!reader #dirty dancing au

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 4 months

Text

❝ you make me feel like I am clean again ❞

yandere!mob leaders x gn!reader | how you met | not proofread

warnings: graphic description of violence, guns, power imbalance (r! is part of the gang but they are a low-ranking member), yandere tendencies, mentions of drug dealings, very brief mention of r! getting felt up by someone in JH's section

masterlist ;

authors note: doing some oc writing feels lowkey daunting but I hope you guys enjoy it, I wasn't exactly sure how to format this aaaa but! I hope it isn't too confusing. I wanted to go more into depth but I suppose this serves as an introductory post to them??? IDK, I've never written this kinda thing before. * here is the better-quality post of the illustration * song on repeat: Love Song by Mariee Sioux

Kim Seo-Yun —

Seo-Yun would be unimpressed the first time she laid her eyes on you. It wouldn't be due to your looks, mannerisms, voice; she's just been hardwired that way.

Wants and needs are hard to convey when you're running one of the most dangerous businesses one could run. Drugs, gambling, skin, weapons — Seo-Yun's a busy woman.

Over time, however, she'll let her gaze linger on you.

Have you always looked so good in that colour? It really does bring out the shine in your eyes, and the suppleness of your lips. Seo-Yun's gaze is intimidating but seeing you squirm is all a part of your charm.

That's right. You're only dressing and acting this way to grab her attention, correct? Why else would she find it so hard to rip her sights from you?

Honestly, she shouldn't be making such frequent trips to the lower ring of her gang. This warehouse was meant to weed out the weakest of her guard dogs. It reeked of sweat and blood and cigarettes and cheap booze. The constant sounds of wrapped knuckles beating down on sandbags and bodies falling on thin mats gave her a headache.

Yet. She stands here on the second floor, gazing down at the sweaty men, a handful of women, and most importantly; you.

Favoritism comes slower than her interests. Seo-Yun will shove her feelings down until it bursts like a fucking volcano. All of a sudden, it's as if she's a hound that's caught the scent of their kill.

"What?" The man before you is wearing an expensive suit, luxury adorning him from the shimmering cuffs to the stitching that holds it together. "Madam Kim is requesting your transfer," he says curtly.

The transfer promotes you from doing grunt work near a polluted harbor to one of Seoul's most expensive penthouses in Gangnam.

It's jarring. She does not give you time to adjust. One moment you're setting down your duffel bag of things and the next you're in the back of a luxury car driving through Seoul's wealthiest district.

The guards (who are double your size and proudly show off their facial scars) push you toward the door of a seamstress. The very air you breathe smells like money.

When you see Seo-Yun, your eyes widen and you kneel to bow.

She muffles her amusement with a slow drag of her cigarette.

"They're very pretty, Madam Seo-Yun," a kindly old lady says from behind her. Her hands were bony and delicate, and the pin cushion she wore around her wrist looked heavy. Everything about her seemed deliberate and put together.

Despite that, despite the glamorous patterns she had on her and the jewelry hanging from her ears; Seo-Yun called for eyes on her with no more than a simple wave of her hand, flicking the ashes away from the cigarette.

"Aren't they? Such a gem."

Seo-Yun orders you to be a part of her security team. Dresses you in custom-made suits to blend in with the rest of the capable men and women. She gives you new weapons and arranges for you to have an apartment near hers. New fake IDs in store, local beat cops turning their gaze away as you smoke in alleyways with an obvious bulk under your jacket.

A gem she called you. And like a gem, she cannot keep her eyes off you.

Stares at you as if you were put on display. Relishes in the way you keep your gaze down, squaring your shoulders, straightening your posture — squirming under her gaze.

"Come inside," you freeze at her words. The other security guards stand stoically in the private entryway of her penthouse and she stands on the threshold of that obscenely large and heavy door.

"Madam?" you squeak out. She narrows her upturned eyes, like a goddess with no mood to be asked twice.

This is a nightly occurrence. It becomes a routine.

She invites you into her home, leaving the door open for you to close on your way in. She sits on the tufted leather sofa, and her grin is expectant.

You kneel. Then, you bring your palms to the floor and crawl towards her. Only stopping when your chin is on her knee and you bring your eyes to meet hers.

"Sweet thing," she'll coo. Her palm is soft and cared for, but there is the slightest bit of callousness here and there. That roughness that comes with holding a gun to someone's head.

The first time she had told you to kneel, you'd been so confused you stood there like a statue. Seo-Yun gives you a minute to let it click, and she tilts her head as you jerkily kneel on her expensive floors.

"Crawl to me."

"Sweet darling," she continues. Your eyes flutter close as she traces your cheekbones with her thumb. "So good for me, so obedient, aren't you?"

How could you not be?

In the weeks you'd been with her, your life took such a drastic turn. Well-fed, well-cared for, and pampered in little but big ways. You were the runt of the litter, a stray, she told you.

She had seen you, she said. She had seen your potential, your drive, your passion.

"I was...I just, I just needed the money, Madam," you sheepishly admit that first night, balancing your chin on her knee.

Who would choose to become the grunt of a dangerous gang? Miniscule soldiers with dreams of dying a movie-worthy death, of brotherly bonds between hardened criminals — Please. You were at the end of your rope, this was the only option before the noose.

"Money is life," Seo-Yun strokes over your cheeks. "You fought to live, climbed through the muddy filth of the pier, and here you are. In my lap."

"I see you, (Y/N)."

"Are you tired?" the shake of your head earns a firm squeeze on your jaw. Your eyes flutter open so she grins sweetly.

"Bathe with me." She lifts your chin and you stand, taking her into your arms as she tugs on the shoulder gun strap you wore, leading you along like a leash. A security guard's job does not include such tasks. You're aware. But how could you say no to the most powerful woman in Seoul?

Your relationship starts off with a clear dynamic. You belong to Seo-Yun, no ifs or buts. No matter how dubious your feelings towards her are, you cannot deny there is such a lovely prospect of being a powerful person's beloved.

Or gem. Or pet. Or...whatever it is Seo-Yun considers you as.

All you know is you are hers and she expects nothing but loyalty and excellence from you. She dresses you in the best, feeds you the best foods, your mattress is hers and therefore it is fit for a Queen.

How spoiled are you, (Y/N)?

So spoiled you do not even realise the pretty cage she's put around you. Don't realise that those pearly white gates are her own teeth as she closes her jaws; too distracted by the gifts, the love, she showers you in.

Exactly how she wants you to be. Pliant, demure, and hers.

So what if your old friends suddenly never contact you again? Or your financial dependence has suddenly been transferred to her? If you never hold a gun in your hands ever again.

"Crawl to me, baby."

And you do. And she grins as she holds your face.

"Good pet."

Kim Jeong-Hyun —

Jeong-Hyun is a peculiar man. Some would argue he's barely a man; others would chime that he's barely human. The sight of the deep scars on his body; the mutilated side of his face. His left ear was chewed off, his left eye cloudy, and a good chunk of his lips ripped off to reveal gums and teeth.

Even if he wasn't a monster; he looked it. That was enough to set people on edge. Seemingly unaware of how he plants the fear of God within people, Jeong-Hyun stares at everyone with a dark gaze that could make the devil shiver.

Unlike his older sister, who hides her emotions until they spill over the edge, he makes his interest known from the beginning.

His good eye, lighter than any brown you've ever seen; a molten hazel that flashes gold in sunlight, devours you as he stands before you.

Although Madam Seo-Yun attends the funerals of her fallen men, she does not linger for the drinking and eating. Jeong-Hyun does.

You'd excused yourself from your circle, the drinks making your body warm enough to endure the cold night air as you light up a cigarette.

The clicking of nails on the brick ground forces you to look at the whimpering dog. Mangy, fur matted, and with its stubby legs like rubber as it paws at your shoe. It was someone's pet, left on the streets. Judging from the overgrown fur, it's been a while since someone's given it any kindness.

Jeong-Hyun had just walked out for a breather (he enjoys spending time with his men, but the noises and the scent of booze could get overwhelming), a bag of meat in hand as he set his sights on feeding the local strays.

But then he sees you crouched by an alleyway, pouring some cheap kibble you bought from a nearby convenience store onto some newspaper. Jeong-Hyun's footsteps are ghostlike, you don't even notice he's there until you feel his breath whisper along your ear and when you spin he's statue-like.

"B — Boss!" He's not the boss — he's just her brother. He still outranked you (by a whole league) so, he doesn't correct you as you bow your head so far down it's between your knees.

He looks silly crouched down in his two-piece suit. You're dressed formally, though the two of you were in different financial brackets. Jeong-Hyun does not speak. The pinkish scar that runs across his neck peeks from the collar of his button-up. It has your toes curling just imagining what had caused it.

He nudges the plastic bag your way, and you cautiously take it from him. To your surprise, he squishes his eyes into crescent moons, and despite his scarred cheek lifting from behind the black surgical mask he wore he looked so...innocent.

The rounded shape of his eyes, the deep crease of his eyelid, and his brows - it all makes him look boyish.

You turn your attention to the strips of expensive beef he had gotten, feeding the poor puppy in silence.

Jeong-Hyun's interest begins with him accompanying your crew as you were tasked to make a show of a traitor. He shoves the blade your way, hilt tilted your way as he connects his gaze with you.

The leader of your crew informs him you are new. He does not even pretend to hear him.

You took the blade, the forged metal heavier than you expected it to be but not impossibly so. It seemed as though it was his favorite, a little longer than a dagger but still small enough to hide under your clothes. Weighing it on your palm, you test the balance of it before gripping it tightly and Jeong-Hyun is entranced by the casual dominance you have over it.

The man before you, on his knees with his cut lip hanging heavily and his eyes so bruised you wonder how he can still see you enough to squeak in fear; he shivers and bows desperately.

"How do you want him, boss?" You glance at him, the grip on the blade strong and confident. He narrows his eyes then closes his eyes, jerking his chin forward.

' However you see fit. '

Jeong-Hyun falls in love with your violence.

Asking for you, always. Giving you food to bring back, giving you new knives and even transferring you to his personal squad of men and women. He'd even invited you into his home. Which, apparently, was not unusual but no one had ever had the pleasure of being able to see the pack of dogs he had.

He starts hanging around you more. His favoritism is hard to mask and it causes you more issues than you'd like to admit.

"You're his little bitch now, huh?" or "His cock tastes good, (Y/N)?"

But who can say no when their boss tells them they want you to follow him around, be his shadow, do nothing more than observe boring meetings and itching for the usual vulgarity of mobsters while you're stood by the wall or behind him?

The madam is not impressed by you. Whenever she speaks to her brother, she will cast a glance filled with nothing more than mild bemusement and disgust.

"Hey, boss," he tilts his head in your direction. You're sat in a barbeque restaurant, and he's watching you intently as you flip the meat, licking his exposed teeth with an almost canine-like attribute.

"...Can I ask you a question?" Jeong-Hyun nods, tearing his eyes away to now look at you. They're almost golden, you think to yourself, the colour of his eyes is so bright.

"Why do you favour me?"

Jeong-Hyung, you come to find out, does not speak. The scar you see peeking from his high collars was apparently a wound that had gone so deep, it took the ability for him to speak comfortably. So Jeong-Hyun signs; "What does that mean?"

"Favour?" You ask and he nods.

"Well, it means, why do you...like me...?"

Jeong-Hyung blinks for a few seconds then tells you to flip the meat. The conversation seemingly ends. That is until you find yourself in his home and he has invited you to his basement.

The dogs bark from behind the doggy gate, a hallway away feeling like a stretch of land as their noises echo. In the basement, you find yourself surrounded by crusted blood and metal. He lifts a dagger and shows it to you. It takes a moment for you to recognize it, it's been weeks since you've held it, but then your brows furrow.

"You kill good. Like me, I like that. I like you," he signs while you hold the dagger. "You like me?" He nods, pulling his black mask away from his face, and grins. It's surreal to see, not exactly grotesque but an unusual sight.

"I like you," he signs.

When his enthusiasm is met with confusion, Jeong-Hyun's face contorts into worry.

He takes the dagger from your hand, places it down, then holds your hands in his. He's tall, towering easily over you as he brings your knuckles to his lips.

He has essentially muted himself. Focusing his strength on keeping your hands hostage as he walks forward until your back meets the smoothed limewash walls of his basement.

"Boss? I'm flattered, but this is a lot to take in....!"

His cloudy eye is in a perpetual squint, healed scars tugging on the skin so it looks almost uncomfortable stretched. They have so much sadness that you feel guilt sprout in you.

'Love me,' they say, 'Love me, love me, lovemelovemelovemelovemelovemeloveme'

Your relationship is dubious. The jeers from your comrades make you feel more flustered than before and Jeong-Hyun is not shy about his affections.

He holds your hands in meetings and traces the shapes of your fingers and joints.

When a snake requires a beheading, Jeong-Hyun takes off your jacket for you and hands you a weapon of his choice. The men who snicker at the sight? Jeong-Hyun is not fond of guns but he so does love it when his sister presses her Beretta to the back of their necks and makes them gasp and sputter.

Madam Seo-Yun may not like you but you matter too much to her little brother for her to allow their insubordinate to make fun of you.

Jeong-Hyun is like a touch-starved puppy. Despite his towering size, he crumbles under your touch, your gaze.

"My brother, he is naive to relationships," Seo-Yun informs you during a lunch meeting. "I noticed, Madam," you shrink under her gaze. How is it she has the same shade of eyes and hers are so, so, so cold?

"But he likes you, favours you I think is the word he used. He has never liked someone before. Not as strongly as this. I suppose I should advise you to take some caution."

"My brother's love comes with a storm of violence. It runs in the family, I'm afraid. Please, don't be frightened by his displays."

You didn't quite understand what she meant.

He'd never been violent to you. You had witnessed him kill before, torture, maim — it was not an unusual sight in your line of work.

You didn't understand until you saw it.

Another funeral, more drinks, more meat. Jeong-Hyun has you beside him, eagerly awaiting your metal chopsticks to place more grilled beef onto his plate.

No one laughs at the sight anymore, they treat you as an extension of Jeong-Hyun which, considering how he monopolies your time, you might as well be. It's rare to see you without him.

But as you got up to wash your hands — someone had spilled their drinks and your hand became sticky — an inebriated man had pressed himself against you.

"You must be a good lay if *hic* Jeong-Hyun-ssi keeps you around, riiight? C'mon, just a quickie, c'mon," "Fuck! Get away from me!"

Jeong-Hyun's hand grabs the back of the man's head, rears it backward, and slams it right into the sink. It shatters, the man yells, people around you scream; but Jeong-Hyun tightens his grip, rears his hand back, and slams him down again.

By the end of that public fiasco, the man's head was obliterated so badly, his face was no longer there. Just shredded skin, muscle, and shattered bone and brain matter.

Madam Seo-Yun's gaze on you is heavy in the car. Jeong-Hyun lumbers in, his hand covered with tissues and you immediately pull the bloody fist to your lap. Approval shines in her eyes as you apply pressure and ask if it hurts.

Well, you couldn't say she didn't warn you now, could you?

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #female yandere #male yandere

236 notes · View notes

ncityprincess · 1 year

Text

after party

pairing: husband doyoung x wife oc

power couple kim doyoung and y/n unwind after work event. i was picturing this couple living somewhere like the hollywood hills or las vegas or something 😭 i think it’s a sign that i need to travel soon lol. anywho, enjoy this fic! ❤️‍🔥

minors do not interact

the sleek luxury car zoomed down the highway, taking you toward the outskirts of the big city. your head rested on your husband’s broad shoulder as you listened to him hum absentmindedly to the song on the radio.

the two of you had just left your company’s annual charity auction. you and doyoung were lucky enough to work for the same company, and in the same department.

you two had met in college. you were eager to dive into the world of marketing since the very first day of freshman year. you had walked into the lecture hall with a smile on your face and wanted to choose the perfect seat for you to absorb every bit of knowledge the professor had to offer.

the other shy freshmen had taken the closest seats in the back of the room, most likely trying to avoid the professor’s sharp gaze. meanwhile you, and apparently one other marketing student, had chosen to sit front and center. doyoung moved his stuff out of your way as you went to take your seat, and the rest was history. you two had graduated together, applied for the same company, moved up the ranks, and eventually got married.

the darkness of the night set a romantic mood in the air. you looked out the window and saw the miles of mansions and land that stretched the landscape. it reminded you how far the two of you had come over the years.

the driver stopped the car in front of you and doyoung’s home on the hills and let the two of you out. you loved living in a secluded section of the city away from all of the hustle and bustle. it was a little slice of paradise that you would forever be grateful for.

doyoung reached into his wallet and grabbed some bills to tip the driver. you both thanked him, wished him a good night, and headed for the house. the slight night time humidity made your body feel warm and cozy. you slipped your hand into doyoung’s, allowing him to guide you towards the house.

“you have a good time tonight, darling?” doyoung leaned down and whispered in your ear. you felt a shiver run up your spine at the closeness. “yeah, tonight’s auction was so much better than the last one. the energy was incredible.”

doyoung squeezed your hand lovingly, “you’re right. it was a great turnout this time around.”

“and the moët was lovely too of course.” you smiled mischievously. doyoung chuckled and fished for his key to open the door. he guided you inside by the small of your back and locked the door behind him. you sighed and placed your purse on the couch. tonight was fun, but you were happy to finally be back at home.

doyoung quietly came up to you and kneeled down to help you take your heels off. you rested your hand on his shoulder to keep yourself from falling over in your slightly tipsy state. “man those things were killing me!” you exclaimed. doyoung grabbed your heels and placed them in the coat closet as you walked into the kitchen.

you reached into the cabinet to grab two wine glasses and grabbed a bottle of wine from the wine fridge. it was tradition for the two of you to unwind after a big event. you guys weren’t necessarily social butterflies, but your line of work required you to schmooze and mingle a lot.

you walked back into the living room and found doyoung manspreading on the couch with his suit jacket and button down discarded, leaving him in just his white tank top and dress pants. you couldn’t lie, he looked absolutely delicious like this. his black hair all disheveled in front of his face. his skin slightly flushed from the alcohol. you loved your hardworking man so much.

you set the glasses down on the coffee table and plopped down next to him. “the only thing i didn’t really like was the food. the chicken was super dry, and supposedly they brought in this five star chef to cater the event,” doyoung scoffed as he poured the two of you some wine. he handed you your glass and pulled your feet into his lap. you let out a relieved sigh as he massaged your sore feet with his free hand. “ok so it wasn’t just me? i kept trying to like, put some gravy on top of it to give it some moisture but it wasn’t working out.” you giggled. of course, the two of you were in sync.

“let’s make some real chicken for dinner tomorrow. deal?” doyoung smiled.

“deal!” you agreed before continuing. “oh! and did you notice how kara barely said two words to me? i think she’s still upset that the board rejected her proposal and went with mine instead.”

doyoung ran his hand up and down your shin soothingly. “oh well, she’ll get over it. your proposal was the best, which is why the board picked you.” he said matter-of-factly.

“okay, don’t gas my head up too much baby” you giggled. the two of you continued to sip on your wine and gossip about the night’s events. at one point, you had went into the kitchen to cut up some fruit to snack on.

“open” you said as you gently pressed a grape against doyoung’s lips. he flashed you a curious look and slowly parted his lips. you pushed the grape into his mouth and he ate it while keeping his eyes on yours. “mmm, these are delicious baby. my turn, come up here.” he patted his thigh, beckoning you to sit on his lap. you crawled on top of him got comfy.

doyoung took a grape from the bowl to feed you. “say ahh” doyoung said softly and placed the grape inside your opened mouth. you chewed it as seductively as you could and placed a gentle kiss on his lips after you swallowed it. “mmm, yummy.”

doyoung captured your lips in a heated kiss and moaned softly into your mouth. kissing doyoung was an out of body experience for you. he kissed like a starved man, yet he also kissed like he had all of the time in the world. like he wanted to savor you. make it last.

doyoung turned you around on his lap so that your back was pressed against his chest. you sighed and wrapped an arm around his head as he placed sensual kisses on your neck. doyoung growled lowly once he felt your hips grinding on top of his hardening member. doyoung slowly moved his lips up toward your ear.

“can you suck on these baby, for me?” doyoung whispered, grazing your earlobe softly. he held up his hand in front of your face and you quickly grabbed it with both hands, shoving his two middle fingers into your warm mouth. the intimacy of the situation made you continue moving your hips.

you noticed doyoung bunching up the long fabric of your evening gown up toward your hips so he could get to the spot he wanted to feel most. you eagerly lapped up doyoung’s fingers, much to his (and your) pleasure. doyoung’s hands were magical, you were sure of it! sometimes you’d find yourself staring at his hands while he’s doing the most mundane tasks just because they turn you on so much.

doyoung pulled his fingers out of your mouth, noting the way you whined softly at the loss. “oh don’t worry darling, we’re just getting started, aren’t we?” with that, doyoung shoved his hand into your lace panties and rubbed his fingers up and down your dripping slit. you bucked your hips against his hand, not expecting the sudden impact.

doyoung kept up his ministrations until he felt like you were ready to take his fingers. he slowly pushed his middle finger inside, followed by his ring finger. you let out a delicious whine, making him press a wet kiss against your neck. soon after, you felt his fingers speed up. you couldn’t help but bounce your hips up and down on his fingers, it felt so good.

“that’s a good girl, you gonna cum for me? huh? gonna cum all over my hand just like this?” doyoung teased. his breath and filthy words against your skin mixed with the harsh movements against your g spot sent you over the edge. you let out a beautiful melody of moans, throwing your head back against your husband’s shoulder.

doyoung finally pulled his fingers out of your body and grabbed your jaw roughly to plant a passionate kiss against your lips. you both moaned into the kiss, ready to feel each other even deeper. doyoung pulled your dress up over your head and laid you down onto the couch. you pulled your ruined panties off and watched as doyoung rid himself of his fancy clothes. his broad body loomed over yours, sending butterflies right where you needed him most.

“doieee, need you.” you whined, hoping it would get him to touch you quicker.

“darling, doie’s gonna take good care of you. you just lay back and let him take care of everything.” he purred out.

doyoung climbed back onto the large couch and laid down behind you so that you two were spooning. doyoung loved to fuck you forwards, backwards and sideways. but spooning was his go to position. he loved the intimacy and passion this position brought. he lifted your top leg softly, like you were made of glass. you shivered in anticipation and pressed yourself closer to his chest.

doyoung took his hard dick in his hand and ran it up and down your wet folds, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. once he finally bottomed out in you, he let out a prolonged groan, hands gravitating toward your soft tits. “god damn baby, you’re so tight like this.” doyoung praised.

he wasted no time building up a sharp and quick rhythm, each thrust making you let out high pitched moans. you and doyoung shared of moment of eye contact, relishing in the erotic situation you two were in. he stared deep into your eyes, loving how much you enjoyed being fucked like this, right on the living room couch.

“don’t you love having this big house all to ourselves, baby? we’ve really made a nice life for ourselves, huh? imagine if we had a few kids running around.” doyoung quipped.

your stomach felt like it was doing backflips, and you noticed your dripping core clench around his dick at his dirty words.

doyoung noticed it too.

“oh what’s this? think we should switch up the dynamic around here? maybe pop out a few kids, get you nice and pregnant so we can fill up this whole house?”

doyoung didn’t wait for you to answer as he rolled you over onto all fours. he kneeled behind you and took his length in his hand, slamming it back into your wet pussy. you both let out sounds of satisfaction, this new angle really penetrating you deeply.

“god you’re perfect, y/n” doyoung sighed and gripped your hips, making sure to pull you back down to meet his thrusts.

“mm, yeah?” you moaned out, turning your head back so you could admire his sweaty body putting in work.

“yeah baby. so perfect. so. perfect.” doyoung couldn’t hold on any longer. he reached his hand around your body to get to your aching clit, helping to finish you off. your breathing got shorter and choppier the closer you were to climaxing. you wrapped your hand around his hand that was working on your clit and came hard.

“babyyyy i’m cumming!”

doyoung let out a deep, guttural sound of pleasure and emptied himself into you. you whined as he continued thrusting into you, until you both finally had enough and he pulled out. you were completely spent, but you felt an intense feeling of love for one another. too tired to move, you allowed doyoung to lay you back down against his chest like you had before.

doyoung kissed the top of your head and caressed your hip. “i love you,” he whispered softly. “i love you too, doie” you replied gently. doyoung waited a beat before he brought the topic back up.

“….so about those kids…”

the end ❤️‍🔥

#nct 127 hard hours #kim doyoung #doyoung hard hours #doyoung scenarios #doyoung smut #doyoung x y/n #doyoung headcanons #doyoung #kim doyoung smut #kim doyoung hard thoughts #imagine nct #nct fanfic #nct dojaejung #nct doyoung #dojaejung smut #nct 127 hard thoughts #nct 127 smut

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smileydk · 8 months

Text

You can't con the Con-Man

Pairing: Magician!Taehyun x PickPocket!OC

Summary: A pickpocketer finds a fancy looking man in the middle of the street. He's wearing a neat suit, his hair is styled nicely, over all he looks clean. She comes to conclusion that since he looked fancy, he's gotta carry some cash on him. She however does not expect him to catch her, and she absolutely does not she take into account that he could be a magician and con-artist.

cw/tw: Kissing, make-out session, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it if you wanna tap it), orgasm denial, creampie, slight breeding kink, choking, cunnilingus

Jiwoo looked for her next offer. It was hard considering the fact that she was in the Jung-district, which meant almost no one carried enough cash to even risk anything.

She sighed. She had to go to Gangnam, which she didn't want to do since the cops knew her a bit too well.

But then again, she liked having a roof over her head as well as sleeping on a full stomach.

''Fuck'' She mumbled and turned her heel towards the subway.

She kept her head down as she got on the train. She was hoping there would be no controls this time, since she jumped the gate and hadn't paid for a ticket. It was rarely any controls, but she had seen thos annoying, blue-clad men coming down the trains.

Her prayers were heard and she got off the train in Gangnam. As soon as she stepped off the train, she walked into a giant flood of people.

The clock was 5 in the afternoon, meaning everyone were on their way home after work.

''Perfect'' She mumbled as she bumped into people, apologized and smiled sweetly, meanwhile her hand dug around in their pocket for something worth stealing.

She was silently thanking her genes and looks. She fit into the Korean beauty standard almost perfectly, and she had an innocent face. No one would ever suspect her to pickpocket. Except the police who already knew her.

Besides, she wouldn't keep the wallet, she'd take cash and throw the wallet in the nearest trashcan. There would be no actual way of proving the cash wasn't hers.

As she made it up to the ground she smirked. She'd already made 100'000₩. Sure, it was two bills, but it was more than she'd ever find in the Jung-district.

The woman kept walking down the streets, bumping into random people she thought looked wealthy enough to loose a few bills. She would never steal from someone who already seemed poor.

She stood by the ugly Gangnam Style statue, doing nothing. She was mostly looking for a new victim. No one was to her liking. Most of the people were either teenagers, kids shopping for their families or old couples, none of which she'd ever pickpocket.

She had a tiny bit of morale.

''Ha!'' She exclaims quietly to herself. She'd found her next victim.

A tall man, probably around the 6 feet mark, clad in a striped suit, nice polished shoes, big doll-like eyes, a kind smile on his lips. He looked rich.

Jiwoo approaches him to take a closer look and notices the small hat infront of him as well as a deck of cards which he shuffled in some fancy way. It did look quite cool, she had to admit.

She took a spot in the front and watched as he performed different card tricks. Whether it was finding someone's card or simply making them appear out of thin air, he made it look simple.

He took a bow and the crowd that had gathered around him applauded. Some people dropped a few bills in his little collectors hat before they left.

He collected his stuff and didn't seem to notice the woman who still watched him. She carefully walked around him and allowed her hand to slip into his, not-so-tight, blazer pocket. She found a couple of bills and grabbed them.

As she tried leaving something stopped her.

A pair of handcuffs, in the other end was the magician. He wore a smirk on his lips. ''Where do you think you're going with my money... Kim Jiwoo?''

Jiwoo froze. She didn't know what to do. ''Uhm... you're not gonna believe me if I said that you dropped them I guess?''

He chuckled and shook his head. ''Nope, hand them back''

A groan left her lips, but she held out the bills for the man to take. ''Are you gonna let me go, or do you plan on keeping me around as a pet?''

''Well, you would make a beautiful pet'' He smirked as he turned to take a better look at her.

''Oh yeah? I'm an expensive bitch''

''I live in Gangnam, sweetheart, I've got money. Judging by your little con attempt, you don't''

Ouch, she thought. Sure, she'd tried stealing his money, sure, he was correct, sure, she deserved the words he used, but still!

''Don't act innocent, we both know I'm right''

The woman only raised an eyebrow. ''Oh yeah? Sure, you are. But let's take a look at you. You're a magician right now, on which you can't make much since not everyone leaves bills, and those who do never leave over 5'000₩, meaning you must have a much better job, or you're con-artist''

The man looked slightly impressed. ''Well, love, you're correct. I work in a boring office during the day, when I'm off the clock I come here and do my magic but simply for entertainment''

''So, you're gonna let me go or?''

''They were never locked, darling. They're from the toyshop around the corner. They were literally like 1'000₩''

Jiwoo's cheeks heated up. Now that he said it, and she actually paid the handcuffs some attention, they looked crappy as hell.

''So, your name is Kim Jiwoo, got a number? Or you wanna borrow mine?'' The man packed up his last things.

''Never give anyone my number, why should you be any different? And how the fuck did you know my name?'' Jiwoo stood by the man as he packed. She'd shoved her hands into her jean's pockets as the wind picked up. No, she didn't bring a hoodie.

''Well, because I didn't tell the police man over there about your failed plan. I recognize your face, you're wanted for pickpocketing. And you really need to keep track of your Credit Cards'' Taehyun held up Jiwoo's Credit Card.

Jiwoo groaned. ''Fine, +81 705 161 423. You got a name?''

''Kang Taehyun'' He bowed elegantly.

''Are you a prince or sum?'' The woman raised an amused eyebrow. ''Why do you care who I am anyways? I literally tried stealing your money''

''You failed anyways, and I have your Credit Card, so I'd say I won. And you're pretty. Why wouldn't I want to get to know a pretty girl?''

Jiwoo still didn't understand. ''What if I'm a minor?''

''As I said, I've seen your wanted posters, I don't think they'd care that much about a minor'' Taehyun finished packing up all his tricks and turned to her. ''Wanna join me for dinner? On me''

The woman was much to hesitant. Sure, the man was absolutely gorgeous and he was kind, but she also had never allowed someone to be "close" to her, no matter how cheesy it sounded. Nor did she really trust the man.

But then again, free food.

''Fine''

''Well we're gonna have to swing by a dress shop because no restaurant in Gangnm is gonna let you in looking ike that'' Taehyun motioned to her ripped jeans, which wasn't design, and her worn out t-shirt that could pass for a dress due to how outstretched it was.

''I have no-''

''I didn't say you should pay. I simply said we needed to get you one. I'll pay for that as well''

Jiwoo was hesitant. ''Why are you so determined to take me to dinner? You met me a minute ago''

''No sweetheart, I'm a con-artist, I've seen you a lot. I've seen you pickpocket for years. I'm impressed. But you know the poor, blind man you gave 10'000₩ last week? Me'' He smirked and bowed.

''Not as impressed. Happens all the time''

''I made 100'000₩'' Taehyun smirked and raised an eyebrow. ''How much did you make? Minus the 10'000₩ you gave me''

''Fuck you'' She mumbled under her breath.

Taehyun raised an amused eyebrow. ''Only if you want to''

He started walking, and Jiwoo followed blindly. She had no idea where they were going. She never spent much time in Gangnam, she was usually in and out within the hour.

The man, who she'd met 10 minutes ago, dragged her inside a giant gown shop. It held floor gowns, princess looking dresses, puffy gowns, floral gowns and so on. They were all kinds of colors.

Jiwoo walked up to a random gown and checked the price tag. Her eyes widened. ''Taehyun, these gowns are literally 3'000'000₩, and those are the cheap ones''

''And as I said earlier, I'm paying. Pick anyone you want, Princess''

The women in the shop looked her up and down with judging faces. Sure, she was dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and an oversized t-shirt, and she hadn't showered in a week, but she felt judged.

She found a white gown with a slit. Sure, she wasn't much for gowns, but it just spoke to her.

Women in Korea were generally quite short and petite, but Jiwoo was (apparently) even shorter. ''Excuse me, do you have this in size 44?''

The women who worked there only laughed. ''I don't think you can afford that, darling''

''I didn't ask you if I could afford it, I asked you if you have this in my size''

The women only continued laughing at the single woman standing in the shop, gown in her hands that was way too big.

Taehyun let out a loud groan. ''Assist her, would you? I've got money to spend. If you're not gonna help her, I might as well just take my Black Card here, and go somewhere else''

The women were suddenly very, very excited to help the woman find a dress to her liking.

''Would you like to take a shower? No extra cost''

Taehyun sat down in one of the velvet futons. He smiled to himself. She was probably the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes upon.

Jiwoo came out 40 minutes later, dressed in the white gown, which was slightly lose at the cleavage, not leaving much to the imagination, it was tight around the aist and flowy from the hips and down. The slit was high which made her legs appear longer.

On her feet were a pair of white LouBoutin, which added an extra five inches to her short height.

Her hair had been blow dried and curled by the clerks and flowed down her back in perfect waves.

Taehyun walked up to her and took her hand in his. ''How do I look?'' Jiwoo asked as Taehyin spun her around. Due to Jiwoo never wearing heels before, she tripped over her own feet.

''Easy there'' Taehyun chuckled and wrapped a securing arm around her waist, and pulled her against her own body. ''I'll pay, and then we'll head out. Sounds good to you?''

The woman nodded. ''Uhm, will-''

''No, we're not taking your disgusting old cothes with us. You can burn them. We'll buy new clothes for you''

Jiwoo raised an eyebrow. ''So you're saying I'll see more of you?''

''Only if you want to''

Taehyun was laughing loudly as Jiwoo spoke. ''No you did not!''

''I did! I swear! So, I was running away from his asshole of a police, and he was catching up since he was literally twice my height, and so I didn't know what to do! Then I remembered something my friend told me, flash a man and your problems will go away, so I did''

Tears were filling Taehyun's eyes as he continued laughing. ''Oh my god, kind of wish I was on the other end though''

Jiwoo smacked his arm and glared at the man. ''How dare you?''

''With the cleavage on that dress you're not leaving much to my imagination, altough, uhm, my imagination is... that now''

The woman leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. ''Oh yeah?''

''Yeah, you're hot, I'm hot, let's fuck'' Taehyun stated bluntly. He leaned back and looked at Jiwoo through hooded eyes.

Jiwoo would never admit it to the man's face, but it made her hot. She liked his burning, mysterious gaze.

The waiter came over with the tab, which Taehyun quickly paid. The two left the restaurant and waited for the valet to drive the car to the front.

Taehyun had a tight grip of Jiwoo's hips. ''Quite sure you're gonna leave a mark if you don't release my hips''

''That'd mean you're mine, eh? Wouldn't it look beautiful?''

''Taehyun-'' Before Jiwoo could scold the man the valet pulled up with the slick, black Audi r8.

Jiwoo sat down in the passenger seat again and Taehyun closed the door behind her. As he sat down in the driver's set he smirked. ''So, you're coming to mine?''

''I would never fuck someone on the first dinner-''

''Stop lying to yourself, I saw you shifting when I stared you down before''

The woman blushed and looked out the window. ''No''

''Don't deny it, Princess'' He smirked and started the car. ''I know you want me''

Jiwoo decided to not reply and continued staring out the window. Taehyun only chuckled and drove towards his own place, one hand on the steering wheel and the other one resting in Jiwoo's lap.

She tried ignoring his, rather big, hand on her left thigh. It was warm, and squeezing her flesh every now and then. Jiwoo tried her best to ignore it, but he made it very hard.

As he squeezed her thigh once more Jiwoo'd gotten enough. She laid her hand on his and held it in a firm grip. Taehyun smirked. He enjoyed the effect he had on her.

''You are such a tease''

''I know, two words and I'll do it''

Jiwoo looked at him. ''I am not gonna say that''

Taehyun chuckled. ''Okay, I'll leave you high and not-so-dry''

She was silently cursing him in her head. She was hoping he'd completely ignore her and take her in his car.

''I know you want me to take you here, in the car. But I'm gonna need to hear you say those two magic words''

She continued cursing him. ''Fine! Fuck me!''

Jiwoo had never seen a man pull over that fast. She also could not understand how he pulled her into his lap with one swift motion.

''Wanna ride me? Or do you want me tot ake you in the backseat?'' Taehyun raised an eyebrow and massaged her waist.

''I don't care''

''Backseat then'' Jiwoo followed his orders and climbed into the backseat. Taehyun made sure to smack her ass before following her lead.

Taehyun didn't waste anymore more time and leaned down to press his lips against hers. Jiwoo wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him flush against her body.

A small chuckle left her lips as she felt him grinding against her. ''And you teased me?''

''Well Princess, we're gonna see who's the one begging soon'' He pulled her panties to the side and looked at Jiwoo. ''As I said, not-so-dry? Hm?''

His hands ran up her thighs, fingers moving too lightly for Jiwoo's liking. Goosebumps grew on her legs, causing her to shudder.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers again. He smirked to himself as he inserted his fingers in her pussy. A small, breathy moan left her lips.

As his fingers pumped inside of her Jiwoo could only moan. His hands were huge, and they surely knew what they were doing.

His fingers nudged her g-spot, forcing a louder moan from her lips. ''Taehyun~'' She whined. ''Do that again!''

Taehyun wore an, almost sadistic, smile on his lips as he repeated his previous action, forcing more pornographic moans from Jiwoo. ''Such pretty sounds, Princess. You're such a little slut''

Jiwoo felt embarrassed, but she enjoyed his degrading comments. ''Fuck, yes, for you Taehyun''

He curled his fingers, making Jiwoo buck her hips slightly. As she clenched around his fingers he sped up his action. ''Are you gonna cum? Hm?''

She nodded as her whole vocabulary was gone within a second.

Just before she could cum around his fingers, he ripped them from her heat and smirked. ''Nuh-uh, not yet'' A small whine left her lips as she tried sitting up. ''Taehyun~''

''Nuh-uh to that as well'' He pushed her back down.

He backed up even further and hooked his arms under her knees. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her heat. A whine left Jiwoo's lips. He chuckled to himself as his ego grew, before diving back into her pussy.

He was also slightly embarrassed. One taste was all it took and he was addicted to her. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she reacted to his actions, the way she moaned his name.

Jiwoo's hands found Taehyun's hair and grabbed a firm hold. A small groan left his lips as she pulled slightly. ''Fuck, keep pulling''

A small chuckle left Jiwoo's lips, but continued pulling slightly at his hair. Her chuckle was cut off as he plunged his tongue back into her hole.

The lewd sounds that echoed in the car only made Jiwoo wetter, if that was even possible. He ate as if he was a starved man, as if he hadn't eaten since forever.

''Taehyun, can I please cum this time?''

''Nope'' He sat back up and wiped his mouth. ''Am I too mean to you, Princess?''

Jiwoo wanted to nod, but she enjoyed that he used her as he wished. ''Yes, but for some reason I like it''

''You're a sadist'' He chuckled and leaned down. Jiwoo was ready for a kiss, but he stopped right before they met. ''You like pain? And degrading? You like being embarrassed by me?''

''Maybe?'' She found Taehyun's hand and brought it towards her neck. ''Choke me?''

Taehyun froze for a second. Sure, he'd had his fair share of freaky people, but never one he cared about.

But he was, weirdly, into it. He chuckled in a sadistic manner and wrapped his hand around her neck. ''So pretty''

With the other hand he undid his belt, which turned Jiwoo on a bit too much, and pulled down his pants together with his underwear. Without warning he pushed his dick inside her.

Jiwoo's jaw fell open as he bottomed out. Taehyun removed his hand from her neck and pushed his fingers in her mouth instead.

After a short moment of letting her adjust to him he started thrusting hips in a slow pace. He wanted her to feel every inch of him.

''I thought you said you were gonna fuck me'' Jiwoo smirked, knowing she was hitting every nerve he had.

''Oh yeah?''

Taehyun's hands wrapped around Jiwoo's neck again and his hips sped up.

The car shook as he thrusted his hips in an, almost, unhuman pace. Jiwoo had been worried earlier that someone could walk by, those worries were out the window the second he entered her.

''Is this what you were planing when you stole my money?'' Jiwoo shook her head to the best of her abilities. ''Oh yeah?''

Jiwoo could feel herself getting closer, which wasn't hard due to the previous acts. ''Taehyun~ please let me cum''

''Fine''

She clenched around his dick before releasing her orgasm. Taehyun's hips only sped up as she came, smirking sadisticly again as she whined from the sensitivity.

''Fuck, you're so pretty, hm. I'm gonna cum because of you-'' He was about to pull out, but Jiwoo wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. ''-want me to cum in you, hm?''

Jiwoo nodded. ''Fuck, yes!'' She pulled slightly at the ends of his hair.

''Want me to fill you up? Fuck, you'd be pretty with my babies. Don't you agree? Even prettier than now''

Taehyun stopped his thrusts and Jiwoo could feel him twitch. A second later he came in her, filling her to the brim. He pulled out and smiled as he could see his cum leaking out.

He quickly stuffed his fingers in her, pushing everything back in. ''Can't let anything go to waste if we want you swollen, hm?''

No one moved. They kind of just stared at each other.

''You're so pretty'' Taehyun mumbled again, this time an adoring smile on his lips.

Jiwoo chuckled and sat up. She leaned against the, now fogged up, car window. It was cool against her shoulder blades and it felt nice. ''And you're very handsome''

''Wanna move in with me?''

''Wow there. Moving very fast now, are we?'' Another chuckle left her lips as she was about to put on her underwear.

Taehyun was quick to snatch them and stuff them in his pocket. He then shrugged and pulled his own pants on. ''I’m keeping those for easy access'' He winked. ''And to be honest, I kind of just assumed you lived on a park bench or a run down barn''

''How dare you?'' Jiwoo replied jokingly. ''I'll think about it. Now- fucking hell it's steamy'' She painted a heart on the window.

''All you, Princess'' He leaned over her and pressed his finger against the window before he started to write something.

''We just fucked <3''

''Taehyun!''

''That's my name, don't wear it out unless you're screaming it'' He winked and climbed back into the driver's seat.

''Fuck you''

''Round 2 already?'' He smirked as Jiwoo climbed into the passenger's seat.

''Drive''

''Yes, Princess''

#smut #kang taehyun #txt taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun #kpop smut #kpop oneshots #txt #tomorrow x together #txt smut #one shot #smut oneshot #taehyun smut

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allur1ngs · 5 months

Note

could you give more information on hyo? we all know bada + bebe because they’re of course real but since hyo is an oc, we don’t know a lot about her. like her hair color/style, height and age, hobbies and personal things like that <3

okay, here's an official deep dive on Hyo!!

this is her official face claim, kim hieora's appearance in bad and crazy!! (i actually haven't seen the show...lmfao)

full name: kim hyo

she's 5'8, making her slightly shorter than bada and lusher, has dark brown (black in low lighting) hair, fair skin, and is 25/26 years old (i haven't decided yet hehe).

style: she loves a super laid-back and casual style when she's not wearing her normal suit, which is basically almost never...

hobbies: ...she doesn't really have time for any... but if on the off chance she takes a day off (literally once in a blue moon) she enjoys reading!! she's an avid reader and loves history!! she did very well in her studies, but history was always hyo's strong suit!!

likes: she LOVESSSS chocolate. that might be her only weakness. she likes sweets in general but not to the extent that she likes chocolate. she also likes cold showers and cold weather.

dislikes: disappointing bada. i feel like i've beat this point into the ground but it's such an important part of hyo's character!!

i'm going to go into a small rant so you've been warned but...

i'm not sure if anyone picked up on it from AWOOL, but hyo is the daughter of chung-hee, bada's bodyguard when bada was younger. hyo always looked up to her father because he was so dedicated to his work and she thought that the idea of protecting another person is such a noble cause/job to choose in life. so when she grew up she idolized her father greatly, and the few times she met bada while she was young, she also grew to idolize her too. bada has always been strong and independent, even before the death of her mother, so when hyo got to see how she took charge in her life without being arrogant and using the influence of her parents, hyo was like "yeah, i want to be just like her."

adding onto that, the lees basically kept hyo's family afloat. they paid her father an incredible sum of money for his work, and before that hyo grew up very poor, so she was basically taken out of poverty by the lee family.

(let's also not forget that chung-hee and mr. lee were also best friends since like childhood, so naturally hyo appreciated him a lot)

so after her father retired, bada--still recovering from the lingering affects of her mother's death and having no trust in almost anyone, somehow managed to trust hyo (because she was chung-hee's daughter)--who was now much older, to become a part of bebe.

hyo wasn't bada's bodyguard although she wanted to be--lusher got that privilege--but the second you stepped into bada's life she was assigned to protect you, and after that hyo felt like that was her calling. to protect the person most precious to bada like ji-ah (the man who killed bada's mother) didn't do. because of all that, she greatly respects you and thinks of you as a little sister she has to protect with her life.

okay rant over🤗

other things hyo dislikes includes, traitors--i'm sure you can guess why--snobby rich people, which in her line of work are literally everywhere so..., and people who disrespect those who have given them so much. in bloody knuckles, you'll see a bit of hyo's frustration with reader come out when she realizes that she lied to bada. she does, to an extent, understand and sympathize with reader's reasoning, but she sort of grows cold with her after that.

and before anyone starts to get any ideas, because i'm sure they will...hyo would never NEVER date reader or bada!! she thinks of reader as a little sister (not to mention bada is in LOVE LOVE with her and hyo would never betray bada like that), and bada is hyo's boss and someone she idolizes, she would never be in a relationship with either of them in the canon. and even out of canon bada is NOT hyo's type at all

okay that's all i can think of for now so let me know if you'd like to know more :D 🩷

#౨ৎ melody's mafia au #౨ৎ melody's newsletter

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bro-atz · 3 months

Text

IRRESISTIBLE CHAPTER ONE: WHY DO YOU HATE EACH OTHER SO MUCH?

pair: cmo!san/employee!oc word count: 2.6k chapter rating: pg-13 — sfw! genre: romance, drama

table of contents ♤ next chapter

The sound of heels clacking rapidly and heavily on the ground got closer and louder with every passing second. Gyuri and Minkyung looked up from their lunches to see Iseul running over to them. The second she arrived at their table, she held onto her knees and panted heavily. Gyuri couldn’t help but laugh upon the sight of her friend struggling to catch her breath.

“What took you so long?” Gyuri asked with a hint of a laugh.

“The server went down for a second… I almost cried,” Iseul managed to respond in between her deep swallows of air.

“Oh, shit. It was the latest music video, right?”

“I’m telling you, fangirls are terrifying. They have so much power,” Iseul nodded and sat down at their table, her hands trembling as she reached for Minkyung’s water when the girl offered it. “I hate whoever thought it’d be a good idea for clients to put up promotions on the company site for more fan-sign opportunities.”

“Mr. Kim came up with it,” Minkyung said cautiously.

“…I’m convinced Mr. Kim hates IT,” Iseul concluded.

Gyuri let out a tiny snort before finishing the last tomato in her bowl. She looked up to see Iseul’s teary eyes staring right at her.

“Um, yes?”

“Don’t leave me…”

“Okay, okay. We’ll stay. Go grab your food,” Minkyung ushered the girl to get up.

“We’ll?” Gyuri looked at Minkyung skeptically.

“Yes, we will. We still have plenty of time before our breaks are over.”

With a sigh, Gyuri nodded. Iseul shot up and left to go buy food from the company cafeteria. While they waited, instead of talking to each other like normal people would, Gyuri and Minkyung went right to their phones and kept themselves entertained on their phones until Iseul returned. Just as Iseul sat down, five gorgeous men clad in different colored suits walked into the cafeteria. Gyuri and Minkyung both stared at the men with sparkling eyes while Iseul, on the other hand, dug into her food. She observed her two friends skeptically before saying, “You guys are crazy. They’re our bosses. You know that.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate the eye candy,” Minkyung responded without taking her eyes off the men.

“That’s still crazy. I don’t get the hype, and the fact that they’re called C5 is so weird.”

“Wait, do you not know why they’re called C5?” Gyuri asked.

Iseul shook her head, prompting the other two girls to launch into a full explanation to their friend who recently joined the company.

“So all five of them are the chief officers of the company. You have your CIO Mr. Kang Yeosang, CMO Mr. Choi San, CFO Mr. Jeong Yunho, COO Mr. Park Seonghwa, and CEO Mr. Kim Hongjoong. They’re all also the founders of the company,” Gyuri started. “They all also have their own nicknames that those not part of upper management call them.”

“Like what?”

“Mr. Kang is the “Happy Virus” because he is very sweet and kind and cheers everyone one, which I’m sure you know because you work in his department,” Minkyung looked at Iseul expectantly, who nodded in response. “Mr. Choi is “The Gold Standard” because he’s so detail oriented and his pitches usually bring more money into the company. Mr. Jeong is. “Mr. Cool Guy” because even when the company stocks were plunging, he was the sole person who brought it back up and higher. Mr. Park is “Cherry Blossom” because he’s an ethereal being who is so sweet and compassionate.”

“No wonder he’s head of HR,” Iseul acknowledged.

“And Mr. Kim is “Captain” because without him, this company would be a sinking ship,” Gyuri concluded.

Right at that moment, the men walked by their table. All three girls stood and bowed to greet their superiors, the five of them bowing back. Moments after they left, Minkyung and Gyuri let out deep, enamored sighs, and Iseul rolled her eyes loudly. The girls kept glancing at the men of C5 every so often as Iseul worked on finishing her lunch.

“Oh, aren’t you friends with Mr. Park, Gyu?” Iseul brought up.

“Yeah, Hwa and I go way back,” Gyuri nodded.

“Wait, seriously? I thought you were kidding,” Minkyung said with shock.

“No, I’m serious. We went to college together.”

“So is he why you have this job?”

“Are you saying I bought my way into the company?” Gyuri asked angrily and grabbed a balled up napkin and threw it straight at Iseul, the napkin bouncing off of her forehead.

“No! I meant like was he a referral, not the other thing!” Iseul cried as she shielded herself from more of Gyuri’s balled up napkins.

Gyuri calmed down then answered honestly, “Actually, I didn’t even know he worked for this company. It was a happy coincidence.”

“Aw, how cute! Do I smell an office romance?” Minkyung asked, her voice getting high with excitement, to which Gyuri and Iseul responded with the most disgusted looks on their face. “Damn, okay. You guys didn’t have to make those faces.”

“Hwa was my upperclassman in college, and now he’s like a brother to me. There is no way I’m dating him,” Gyuri responded passionately, thus ending the debate of her relationship with Mr. Park.

“Okay, I want to know. If you had to choose a guy from C5 to date, who would you choose?”

Both Minkyung and Gyuri answered immediately at the same time.

“Mr. Kang.”

“Mr. Jeong.”

“I want justification!” Iseul declared, her eyes sparkling.

“Well, I’ve had a massive crush on Mr. Kang ever since I started working here,” Gyuri explained.

“Mr. Jeong’s very attractive… I see his face at least four or five times a day. My heart swoons each time,” Minkyung admitted honestly, earning yet another eye roll from Iseul.

“Kyung I get because he’s your boss, but Gyu, you don’t see Mr. Kang, like, ever. I thought Mr. Choi would be your choice,” Iseul said mildly surprised.

“Absolutely the fuck not. Definitely not him,” Gyuri nearly gagged.

“Jesus, that’s a strong reaction…”

“No, it’s just… He’s just the most arrogant, obnoxious jerk. Like, if he was just telling me to do my work better, then it’d be fine and I wouldn’t be so mad… But he keeps shooting down all of my ideas during meetings because he thinks the client won’t like it, but then Mr. Jung lets me pitch it anyway, and the client either agrees with Mr. Choi or with me. And, if they agree with Mr. Choi, he’s always super fucking smug. If they agree with me, then he takes it out on me by making me work super fucking late to make sure the complete proposal is fucking spotless. I hate it.”

The other two girls went silent as Gyuri finished her rant. After a moment of silence, Iseul cleared her throat and said, “Alright, I’m sorry I asked…”

“Sorry. It’s just… That guy really knows how to push my buttons.”

“Well, the things you said about him just sounds like a boss doing his job. I don’t really get the anger,” Minkyung pointed out.

“You should hear the way he says it. It’s fucking annoying.”

As if on cue, C5 walked past their table again, this time on their way out of the cafeteria. The three girls stood up and bowed once again before taking their seats. Minkyung kept an eye on the men as they exited, and once they were all out of the cafeteria, she said in a hushed tone to her friends, “You know what’s crazy? Out of all the C5 guys, Mr. Choi is the most popular.”

“What the fuck?! Why?!” Gyuri said a notch too loudly.

“You don’t have to sound that shocked, Gyu. He is a part of C5,” Iseul responded quietly in an effort to get the angry girl to calm down.

“Why is he the most popular? That makes no sense to me.”

“Mr. Choi is the most mysterious out of the five, apparently. Like, no one knows anything about his personal life or interests or anything. He seems to be crazy talented and can do pretty much anything, not to mention he has amazing people and talking skills. He’s dedicated and driven and pays attention to the smallest of details not just in work but with people, too. The other day, Jinah from the IT department got the tiniest fucking hair trim, and Mr. Choi noticed and complimented her almost immediately. She was all giddy the rest of the day,” Minkyung explained in great detail.

“So he notices thing. Big deal.”

“His nickname is “The Gold Standard,” Gyu. He’s valuable and unattainable. Most of the girls in the company are obsessed with him.”

“Good lord…” Iseul rolled her eyes yet again.

“I always thought Mr. Kang or Mr. Kim was the most mysterious…” Gyuri whispered half to herself.

“Nope. It’s Mr. Choi.”

“I refuse to believe that… But fine. Whatever. Everyone loves him. Yay.”

On that sarcastic note, Gyuri got up. Minkyung followed, causing Iseul to panic. She shoved the rest of her food in her mouth and followed her friends out of the cafeteria, the three of them throwing their garbage away on their way out. Iseul chewed as quickly as she could while the three girls waited for the elevator.

“At the end of the day, none of it matters. We’re here to work, not date,” Gyuri said with determination.

“True,” Minkyung validated.

“Does that mean you’re going to give up on your crushes?” Iseul asked after managing to swallow without choking.

“Nope!” Minkyung responded cheerily.

“I’m still going to crush on him even if there’s no way in hell we’ll get together,” Gyuri added.

With a quiet ding, the elevator arrived, and the girls entered. They each pressed the button for their floor and continued to talk animatedly as the doors closed slowly.

“Oh, don’t forget, ladies. The company dinner is tonight,” Minkyung reminded.

“Fuck… I forgot… Do you think I’ll have to stay late?” Iseul sighed dramatically.

“It’s a company dinner. I’m sure Mr. Kang will drag your department to dinner,” Gyuri assured the girl.

“I hope so. I want free food and booze.”

The other two girls laughed heartily at Iseul declaration. Gyuri’s floor arrived first. She waved at the other two as she got out of the elevator and made her way back to her desk slowly. When she arrived and sat in her desk chair, she let out a massive sigh. She really didn’t want to return to work. Her current client was extremely picky— even more than his royal highness Mr. Choi San— which meant that her proposal had to be flawless if she wanted to avoid another late night at the office.

After looking over her proposal for the umpteenth time, Gyuri turned to her boss and whined, “Boss... Do you think Mr. Choi will approve of this?”

“Let me take a look,” her boss, Mr. Jung Wooyoung, said as he got up. “This is for the Ring account, right?”

“Yeah,” Gyuri nodded and leaned back so Wooyoung could look at her computer screen.

Wooyoung leaned over Gyuri’s shoulder as he looked at the proposal she had pulled up. He scrolled slowly and leaned into her screen closer, his tie falling over her shoulder. Gyuri couldn’t help but feel his tie— it was red and silk, and although she was wearing a blazer over her blouse, she could still feel how smooth it was over her shoulder and felt compelled to touch it with her fingertips.

“I think it looks great!” Wooyoung choked out and immediately leaned away, his tie slipping out of Gyuri’s fingers.

“Okay, good… If Mr. Choi rejects it, I’m going to scream.”

Unfortunately for Gyuri, that is exactly what he did, and that is exactly what happened.

“This is the exact same storyline as their previous music video! Not even a continuation, just the same story copy and pasted!” San roared as he stood up.

A couple of the people on the marketing team— including Gyuri, San, and Wooyoung— were sitting in the conference room going over Gyuri’s proposal for the Ring account and other items on the agenda. Gyuri and San were at each others’ throats, which seemed to be a normal occurrence given that everyone else at this meeting didn’t even bother trying to stop the two even when they started swearing at each other.

“Are you shitting me?! It is a continuation! The last storyline was about the relationship, and this one is about the break up!” Gyuri pointed at the screen behind her.

“Then why is the plot just covering the same things that happened in the last fucking MV? You just want to put the last one in flashback and not record anything new this time?!”

“Flashback is important! And, like I showed here, here, and here, we’d be spacing it out throughout the song, so the MV will still be the duration of the song and a little longer! We did this for the Sunrise account!”

“Listen, the fans can just go watch the old MV for flashback if they want! Get the views up that way! Redo this.”

San stood up, indicating that the meeting was over, but Gyuri wasn’t done.

“No!” Gyuri shot back, causing San to freeze in his tracks. “The fans are fans! They’ll go rewatch the whole storyline again no matter what! If we want the MV to make sense, you need to keep the flashbacks! We’re adding, not copying and pasting!”

“Go take out the flashback parts and let me know if the story is still confusing—“

“Of course it’ll be confusing without it!” Gyuri was practically screeching.

“Then redo the entire storyline! Do something where we don’t have to flashback!”

“Why are you so anti-flashback?! It’s just reusing our old footage! There’s no extra cost or anything, and it’ll fulfill the client requirements!”

San finally slammed both his hands on the table as he ended the exchange with, “I am your boss! Do what the fuck I’m telling you do to!”

With that, the meeting finally ended, and the team went back to their desks. Gyuri flung herself into her chair and immediately got back to work while uttering profanities under her breath. Her desk-clump-mate, Yoon Hana, delicately placed a lollipop on Gyuri’s desk. She immediately snatched it and stuck the lollipop in her mouth as she typed and clicked furiously.

“Gyuri, maybe you should just agree with Mr. Choi every now and then so you don’t get so riled up,” she said softly. “You don’t want to get fired now, do you?”

“If that were the case, then Gyuri would’ve been fired a long time ago,” Jeon Chanmi, another one of their coworkers, walked past with a stack of prints. “You should’ve seen them during the Fever account. They were screaming at each other for all five music videos. It got so bad that Mr. Park worked on our floor until all five of them were done.”

“Don’t we still have the Fever account?”

“Yep. The MVs were so popular that it revived that company. Even though they scream at each other like that, the videos they make go viral every time.”

“And I came up with each of those concepts,” Gyuri grumbled. “He should learn to trust my judgement by now.”

“You came up with all of those concepts after bickering with him each time. If he didn’t push your buttons, then you wouldn’t be creating what you are,” Chanmi flicked the back of Gyuri’s head.

Gyuri curled her lip in disgust and focused on her work. She hated that Chanmi was right, and she hated that San did bring out the best in her.

“Keep up the good work?” Hana said in confusion.

“Yeah,” Gyuri huffed out without even looking away from her screen.

table of contents ♤ next chapter

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superdummymags · 26 days

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🌻

Alrighty, time to talk about whatever.

Well! Things that are on my mind right now are Hephae and Minecraft so I'll go grab something I've said about my OCs and what modpacks they play...

#mags answers #oc: hephae #oc: ray #oc: yra #oc: marisa suite #oc: king #oc: queen #oc: kim suite

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natasha-in-space · 2 years

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Oh hey a new cursed alignment chart just dropped, neat! Featuring my cmc's as a bonus

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hobeemin · 8 months

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vice ⚖️ teaser

⚖️ genre: smut, angst, drama, crime, thriller, f2l, soulmates to lovers, forbidden romance

⚖️ pairing: mafia boss!kim seokjin x (f) poc detective!oc

⚖️ summary: after disappearing 15 years prior, kim seokjin has returned running one of the biggest companies in the city. a powerful and charismatic ceo, no one has ever told him no. but he has a secret...how will his blooming romance with a childhood friend, now detective affect his lucrative activities?

⚖️ rating: 18+

⚖️ warning(s): swearing, physical violence, crimes, weapons, injuries, blood, murder, threats

⚖️ word count: 766

⚖️ credits: Many thanks to @raplinesmoon for looking this over and giving me much-needed feedback! 💜💜

a big shoutout to @dee-ehn for making this kick ass banner and divider!

⚖️ a/n: this has been in my wips for a long time now...as i slowly try to finish old fics and the ones I've plotted it out, its time to release something new! enjoy!

“How long do we have Yoongi?”

“Less than half an hour, Hyungnim.”

His lips thinned as he glanced at his watch. “I guess you better hurry this up then.”

“Well, the helicopter is on the way–”

“Fine. We’ll take care of this on the helipad then.”

He walked off before Yoongi could speak; instead, he sighed and followed his boss to the elevator. The man waited until Yoongi hit one of the buttons. Yoongi glanced down at his phone. They had little time, and he'd be punished if they deviated from his schedule.

They reached the top floor in silence. He walked out with Yoongi in tow, only stepping before him to open the door. A flash of light made his eyelids blink, adjusting to the sun. They were on the rooftop of a highrise building. The helicopter off to the side, propellers turning. The wind whipped his tie as he approached three other men, two standing and the one in the middle on his knees with a cloth bag over his head. He gestured to them when he stood before the man on the ground.

They snatched the bag off his head, and the man’s eyes blinked erratically as the light blinded him momentarily. Once he glanced at the man standing before him, his face paled.

“J-Jin…”

“That's Kim Seokjin to you, maggot,” Yoongi snapped, stepping forward to strike him across the face.

Jin shook his head, placing his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Now, where are your manners? This isn’t how we take care of business.”

“Forgive me, Hyungnim,” Yoongi murmured, stepping back.

Placing his hands behind his back, he looked at the other two. “Namjoon, Jungkook, has he been forthcoming with any information?”

“None, Hyungnim,” Namjoon replied.

Jin tutted softly as the tiniest of smirks appeared across his face.

“I’m only going to ask this once. Where’s my money?”

“What money?”

Jin chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m fairly certain; I said I would only ask this once. However, I consider myself merciful, so I’ll ask this again. Where is my money?”

The man spat down at his feet, growling with hatred. “You’ll die for this, Kim.”

Jin smirked once more as he began to roll up his sleeves. “My usual methods aren’t working, so now we’ll just have to do things the old-fashioned way.”

Yoongi handed him a small box, opening the lid. Jin gave him his cell phone before taking out the two brass knuckles that glittered under the sunlight. Slipping them on, he flexed his fingers.

“Lovely, aren’t they? Never gets old. It seems once these are used, people’s minds change.”

Bones crunching filled the air as the man’s head jerked to the side. Blood sprayed onto the concrete as Jin stepped back in disgust.

“If you got blood on my suit, I’ll kill you,” he hissed.

The man trembled, looking up at Jin. “I-If I knew where your money was, I’d tell you.”

Jin reeled his foot back, slamming it into the man’s gut. He cried out in pain, crumbling to the ground in a ball. He brushed his hair back, rolling his shoulders.

“I’m tired of this game, maggot,” he snapped his fingers as Jungkook and Namjoon lifted the man to his feet. The man sniffled as the blood still dripped from his nose.

“P-Please–”

“Well, when you put it that way. Sure, I’ll show you some leniency.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

Jin rolled his eyes, giving them a nod. Jungkook and Nmajoon lifted the man over the side. He struggled, screaming as they let go. His cries grew faint until the body slammed onto the street below. Jin removed his brass knuckles, placing them back in the box Yoongi held out for him. He adjusted his suit, nodding to his men as they ushered him to the helicopter.

“Make sure to clean that mess up, Namjoon,” he instructed.

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

Suddenly, the phone in Yoongi’s hand began to ring. He looked at the contact and handed the phone back to Jin. “Hyungnim.”

Jin waved him away. “Not now, Yoongi.”

“You might want to take this.”

Jin’s eyes darted to the screen as he snatched it away. Smiling, he answered it brightly. “Eomma! Yes, I know I was supposed to call last night…I’m sorry, business got hectic. Will I be home to visit? Of course! When? Sometime soon, I promise. Give Seokjoong and his family my love. Talk to you soon.”

Sighing, he laid back against the seat, closing his eyes. “Yoongi?”

“Yes, Hyungnim?”

“I think it’s time I visit home. Fifteen years is long enough to be away.”

#kvanity #clubzerooclock #ksmutsociety #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtansorciere #kim seokjin #seokjin #bts #bts x oc #seokjin x oc #seokjin x drama #seokjin smut #bts drama #bts smut

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raplinesmoon · 1 year

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A Place For Us (KSJ x F!reader)

pairing: ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (from On The Ropes)

genre(s): angst! and fluff

au(s): established relationship, parents au

word count: 4.5k

warnings: Seokjin and OC are older (late 40s/early 50s), being a parent is hard, moody teenagers, revelations, mentions of infertility, words are exchanged, lots of crying, doubts and insecurities about relationships, flashbacks, making up (happy ending yay!), brief makeout session at the beginning

rating: pg-15 (the OTR universe is 18+)

summary: It’s always on the most momentous occasions that things fall apart - but with some luck, love is always enough to bring people back together.

a/n: Happy 1 year anniversary to OTR! I’ve had this drabble in my head for quite some time, and I shed so many tears writing it. It’s pretty angsty, but really special to me (and you get to meet the newest member of the Kim family!). The title of this is inspired by my absolute favorite book, A Place for Us by Fatima Farheen Mirza. Nothing I write will ever come close to it, but please go and read it right now (the drabble can wait). I hope you enjoy!!

glossary: olchaeng-i (tadpole)

Seokjin darts his eyes nervously between the two options - black tartan or blue paisley, and feels pain shoot up between his eyebrows. Rubbing his eyes, he lets out a heavy sigh, wondering if it was finally time to go see the eye doctor after you’d begged him for weeks.

He hears the door close softly behind him, and your telltale perfume waft into the room, the warmth of your arms wrapping around his back.

“I don’t know why you even bother, you always pick blue,” you whisper into his ear, and he turns at the sound of your voice.

It’s been twenty years, and Seokjin is still never prepared for the sight of you in a dress, never failing to knock the wind out of him every time. He pauses, trying to refrain from vocalizing the first silly, ludicrous thought that creeps into the back of his mind, and instead return to the pressing matter at hand.

“Maybe it’s time to go with something different, the black does match my hair,” he snickers, knowing that now his head was more littered with grey strands than anything.

“You are hopeless,” you huff, snatching up the blue paisley tie and beckoning him closer, wrapping it around his neck. He watches your face scrunch in concentration as you tie it, tongue poking out from between your lips, and his foot taps on instinct, resisting the urge to disrupt your focus and kiss you.

“There,” you step back, admiring your handiwork, but Seokjin pulls you back into him.

“How much time do we have?” he asks, his eyes glimmering and gaze hungry, drinking in every inch of your body.

“We have a little bit,” you whisper against his lips with a smirk, sliding your hand underneath his suit jacket and feeling the hard planes of his chest. “She was still starting her makeup when I left.”

Seokjin barely lets you finish before his lips descend on yours, palms digging into your ass, and it’s a matter of moments before he’s backed you up against the door, wedging a thigh in between your legs to keep you spread open for him.

“Seokjin… please… careful,” you try to warn him, but the words are lost in between moans when he moves to your neck, licking and sucking at your pulse point.

Before you know it, the long skirt of your dress is hiked up to your waist, Seokjin’s hand barely pulling aside the embarrassingly wet fabric of your lacey white thong when—

“MOOOOOOOM!!!”

The two of you freeze, breathing heavily. Seokjin’s eyes are still dark pools, and he shakes his head silently, begging you not to go.

“Mom, I need help zipping up my dress!” your daughter’s frantic voice echoes from outside the door, and you both move quickly, untangling yourself from each other. You straighten out Seokjin’s crooked tie, and he falls to his knees, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress. The two of you collect yourselves, and then you’re off, pressing a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek as you open the door.

“We’ll finish this later.”

“Appa, how much longer?”

Jin-ae sighs heavily. It’d been nearly an hour in the car, and they still weren’t anywhere close to this wedding. She watches her parents whisper to each other in the front seat, whispering quietly to one another, and huffs, pulling out her phone to text Hae, her best friend.

“Five minutes, olchaeng-i,” Seokjin chuckles.

“Appaaaa!” Jin-ae flushes with embarrassment at the childhood nickname.

When I first met you, her appa’s voice echoes in her head, you were on the ultrasound monitor, no bigger than a tadpole.

It’d been cute when she was younger, but now she was fifteen, and growing up. She didn’t just want to be his little tadpole for the rest of her life.

Get me out of this car, she texts Hae.

Tell me about it, Hae texts back. Hae’s dad was her dad’s best friend, and this was the first time she’d seen Hae in two weeks after Uncle Yoongi had grounded her friend for sneaking out at night.

Jin-ae opens up the front-facing camera, nervously smoothing down her hair and patting her makeup.

“You look beautiful, Jin-ae,” your voice comes from in front, and she sees you eyeing her through the rearview mirror.

“Thanks Mom,” Jin-ae smiles sheepishly, instantly feeling guilty for badmouthing her parents to Hae. They’d been nothing but kind and supportive for most of her life, even if they were a little dorky and overprotective. They’d come to every ballet recital and every soccer practice, they rewarded every good grade with a trip out for ice cream.

Her appa had been the one who stayed home with her most days when her mom worked, making sure she always had a homemade snack after school and coaching her through her math homework. When you came home, you would always promise to read Jin-ae a chapter of the book the two of you were reading together, talking about the plot and the characters until her eyes felt heavy and she began to slip away into her little world of dreams.

Jin-ae had the best parents in the world. Nothing would ever make her believe otherwise.

The real reason she was on edge wasn’t because of them. It was because her crush, Mingyu, would be at this wedding too. She’d grown up occasionally seeing him around because their parents were friends, but recently she’d begun to notice how cute he actually was, always making people laugh. Not to mention he was the captain of the basketball team.

The car screeches to a halt as Seokjin pulls into the parking space, and Jin-ae throws open the door immediately, launching to her feet. Mingyu was waiting inside!

“Bye Appa! Bye Mom! Hae is waiting for me, I’ll see you!”

“Jin-ae!” you shout after her. “Make sure your phone ringer is turned on!”

Jin-ae doesn’t even bother to check, too excited at the prospect of finally dancing with Mingyu. She turns on her heels and hikes up her skirt, watching you and Seokjin smile at her.

“Love you both! Byeee!”

“They’re so excited to see each other,” Yoongi snickers at Jin-ae and Hae tucked away in the corner, giggling at everybody on the dance floor. “Hae’s been driving us crazy over the past couple of weeks, and then Do-woon on top of it.”

“Aren’t you glad we only had one, ___?” Seokjin chuckles, and you give him a half-hearted smile back. Suddenly his hand is reaching for yours, giving it a comforting squeeze.

It wasn’t like you didn’t try. You tried. And tried, and tried, and tried. But something got in the way every time, whether it was not being able to shift out of your tiny apartment into a house, or not being able to move into a bigger house because Jin-ae didn’t want to change schools. Until the doctor told you that no matter how hard you tried, some things just weren’t meant to be.

You supposed it was why you treaded so carefully with Jin-ae. She was all you had, what made you turn from two broken, battered souls into a family. Which is why it scared you and Seokjin that she was growing up so fast. It was only yesterday that the two of you had been holding her hand, bandaging her cuts on the playground.

And now she was older, bright-eyed and curious, and beautiful, and as much as it made you proud, you were also afraid. Afraid the world would hurt her, afraid that it’d dim her light. Both you and Seokjin never wanted your daughter to experience the darkness you both went through, which still lingered in the background of some of your sleepless nights that were few and far between.

“You guys should take a vacation,” Yoongi suggests. “We went to Jeju last year for a week and it was the best week of our lives. Jin-ae could come stay over.”

Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you pinch him playfully. In the many years you’d been married, it had never occurred to either of you to take a vacation. Jin-ae had hurtled into your lives not long after the wedding, leaving you with low hopes for a honeymoon.

“Maybe we can take her,” Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sure she’d like to get out and explore too.”

You smile at that. A family vacation. It would be nice, just the three of you, away from school, from work, from here.

When you look up again, Jin-ae is no longer by Hae’s side. She’s wandered off to the side, teetering on her heels behind a boy, the two of them walking out of the room.

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to resist the urge to go after her, reminding yourself she’s still just a kid, and you tap Seokjin on the shoulder.

“Dance with me?”

“I’d love to.”

Jin-ae’s heart pounds in her ears, anxiety sending prickles over her skin at the thought of finally being alone with Mingyu. Hae had urged her on when Mingyu came up saying he wanted to talk to her about something.

This was it, the moment she’d been waiting for all night. Love was in the air everywhere it seemed, and now Mingyu was finally going to confess his feelings to her.

“What did you want to talk about, Mingyu?” she asks him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear shyly.

Jin-ae blushes when she realizes how little space is in her and Mingyu, and how close his face is. All he has to do is lean in…

“You tease!” Min-gyu says, and Jin-ae jumps back in surprise, not expecting his response. “When were you gonna tell me about your parents, huh?”

Jin-ae purses her lips in confusion. Her parents? What did they have to do with anything? She was pretty sure her mom didn’t even know Mingyu’s name, and her appa would be happier knowing he didn’t exist.

“W-what are you talking about, ‘Gyu?” she stammers. “Did they say something to you?”

Mingyu’s face falls. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?” Jin-ae tries to stop her voice from cracking, and the tears from falling, but they do anyway.

“Jin-ae, your parents, they uh, well uh, your mom was engaged to this other guy, and she cheated on him… with your dad. That’s how they got together. Wendy told Karina last week and now everyone’s talking about it.”

The tears become heavier, clouding Jin-ae’s vision, and she tries to back away, only to be met with the wall. There was nowhere to go.

“N-no, you’re wrong,” Jin-ae croaks out. “Everybody is wrong. My parents love each other, t-they met in the park, they would never do something like that. NEVER!”

The last word is a plea, Jin-ae looking Mingyu in the eyes and hoping that he backtracked, that he admitted it was all some kind of sick joke. However, she’s met with only guilt.

Turning on her heels, she runs.

Seokjin is worried. He hasn’t seen Jin-ae ever since you told him she disappeared with some boy, and now he can’t stop fidgeting with his fingers, wondering if everything is okay with his little girl. What if he hurt her? What if he took advantage of her?

It’s this worry that presses him to nudge you, turning your attention away from dinner. You give him a nod of acknowledgment, and he knows you’ve been wondering the same thing. The two of you excuse yourself from the table, hand in hand as you slip out into the hallway.

Moments later, Seokjin’s worst suspicions are confirmed when he hears the telltale sound of familiar set of sobs. Only this time, they sound worse than the time Jin-ae was riding her scooter down the street and crashed into the curb. Or the time when Minji invited all the girls in the class to her sleepover except Jin-ae.

The two of you come to a stop outside the bathrooms, and you raise your hand, ready to knock, when the frantic figure of Hae stops in front of you, waving you away.

“Mr. and Mrs Kim, you shouldn’t be here right now,” she says, a waver to her voice.

“What happened Hae?” Seokjin can’t stop his voice from rising. “What did he do to her?”

“You guys should really go, I’ve got this, I promise,” she gulps.

You swoop past her, opening the door handle.

“Jin-ae? Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

You look up into the tearful eyes of your daughter, her makeup smudged and her hair jumbled, like she’s been pulling at it, strewn on the floor of the bathroom.

When Jin-ae notices you and Seokjin standing in the doorway, she sobs harder, curling up into a tiny ball, and you feel your heart break.

Seokjin moves first, crouching down to wrap his arms around her, but Jin-ae swats him away.

“GO AWAY!” she screams. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Olchaeng-i, is this about that boy Mingyu?” Seokjin says softly, stroking her hair and trying to set it back into place. “It’s okay, Appa’s here, we’re not leaving you.”

“But I want you to,” Jin-ae warbles, and you and Seokjin look at each other with concerned faces. “I want you to leave.”

“Jin-ae, please talk to us, tell us what’s wrong,” you give her space, but don’t leave.

“What’s wrong is that you both lied to me! What’s wrong is that you guys shouldn’t even be together because you cheated… you cheated on someone you were engaged to, Mom! And appa just let you instead of saying no! What’s wrong is that my whole life feels like a lie… we shouldn’t even be a real family!”

Seokjin feels his blood run cold, and he looks over to see you in the exact same position, frozen and unable to move. This was never how you wanted Jin-ae to find out. The two of you had spent your whole lives trying to atone for the truth, and now it had come back to haunt you, in the worst way possible.

“Olchaeng-i, we can talk about this, your mom and I can tell you, it’s not what it seems like,” Seokjin stutters over his words, hands fidgeting at his sides. He wants to hug Jin-ae so badly, but it feels like his arms have been encased in cement blocks.

“What is it then?” Jin-ae is relentless. “I have to listen to you explain why you’re not a fucking adulterer, and mom’s not some slut who opened her legs for you the first chance she got? You’re going to explain how you didn’t ruin everybody else’s life because you both were so goddamn selfish? Was I just some stupid way of trying to make up for it, huh? Did you get married and have me because you felt like it was the right thing to do after doing everything else wrong?”

Jin-ae rises to her feet, ignoring Seokjin’s arm reaching for her, and he looks over to still see you frozen on the floor, tears rolling down your face silently. You can’t even look anywhere but straight ahead.

“I don’t want to hear it, appa. I don’t even want to be around you anymore. You make me sick,” she spits out before leaving.

Seokjin is at your side before you can even say anything, crushing you against him as you both erupt into sobs, holding each other and wondering how everything had gone so wrong.

From then on, everything is silent. You and Seokjin barely utter more than ten words to each other as Seokjin pulls Yoongi aside and explains what happened. You see Yoongi nod in acknowledgment, telling his best friend that he’ll find Jin-ae, and make sure she stays out of trouble, while a tearful Hae looks on. It’s silent when both of you pile into the car, the air heavy without Jin-ae’s bubbly chatter to break through it. Seokjin keeps his eyes on the road, and you keep them outside, watching the lights drift by, fighting off the urge to make him stop and vomit on the side of the road. Instead the pit in your stomach only grows deeper when he pulls into the driveway, and everything is dark, with no Jin-ae on the steps waiting for you both.

The two of you step inside, and while normally you’d be relieved to be home, the tiny, two-bedroom house the two of you built your whole life inside now feels like little more than a shabby cardboard box. All the pictures on the wall, the furniture you’d picked out together, Jin-ae’s shoes by the door, feels hollow with the weight of her accusations in the back of your mind.

The scary thing was, part of what she said was right. You and Seokjin had cheated, and you lied, upheaving not only your lives but Jungkook’s in the process. And while every day you thanked the universe that he’d been able to move on and find love, to find forgiveness in his heart, forgiving yourselves had been less of an easy task.

You thought the love would have been enough to fight the feeling of guilt. And it was. Until now.

You plop on the couch, bending over to take off your heels, when suddenly, the words come back, and you crumple, unable to stop shaking. Seokjin is there in seconds, arms around your side, stroking your hair, and the two of you cry it out together, finally growing tired of the silence.

“Shhh, jagiya, it’ll be okay,” he whispers into your hair.

“What if she’s right, Seokjin?” the hopelessness creeps into your voice. “What if this wasn’t meant to last? What if we can’t keep running anymore?”

“___, this is real,” Seokjin takes your hand in his, running his thumb over the thin gold band you wear every day to symbolize your love. “I told you a long time ago that you were it for me and I meant it. I know we’ve made mistakes, jagi, but this, our family, has never been one of them. Jin-ae is just angry, and she’s hurt. She’ll come back to us.”

“I hate that we have to keep doing this,” you lean onto his shoulder. “I hate that we have to remind each other all the time. When will it stop?”

“Maybe never,” Seokjin admits. “But I’ll still be here every day.”

“I love you, Seokjin,” you whisper. “I’m so lucky I get to have you.”

He watches your eyes flutter shut, before whispering:

“I’m the lucky one.”

It’s midnight when Jin-ae sneaks back into the house, finding the spare key her parents kept in the plant pot outside. The house is dark, and it’s quiet.

Guilt causes the knot in her stomach to become tighter. Uncle Yoongi and Hae had taken her to their house, where she’d had a warm meal and time to cool off. She was so confused. So hurt that the perfect parents she’d known growing up were revealed to be far from it. She didn’t know how to process the news, or how to feel anymore.

So she’d sat on the Mins’ front porch in the cold, thoughts running every which way in her mind, until she’d heard the door click and footsteps behind her, coming face to face with Yoongi by her side.

“Still upset?” he asks her, and the gentle look in his eyes reminded her so much of her appa, and how he’d come by with cut-up fruit every time she was upset.

“Shouldn’t you also be, Uncle Yoongi? He’s your best friend.”

“I did my time, little tadpole,” Yoongi chuckles, using Seokjin’s nickname for her. “I told Seokjin it was a bad idea, I told him everything would fall apart. I was angry with him too.”

“How did you make it go away?” she asked him, swinging her legs side to side. “The anger.”

“Jin-ae, he’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s not a bad man,” Yoongi says quietly. “Neither is your eomma. They love each other more than anyone I know. They were so happy when you came, I thought they’d never stop smiling. You’re their entire world.”

Jin-ae smiles softly at his words, a memory washing over her.

. . .

“Me and mom will be back to get you after school, little olchaeng-i, okay? Be good for us.”

Seokjin gives Jin-ae a kiss, eyes wet with tears. You’re no better off beside, eyes red-rimmed at the new dress she’d picked out, and the pretty bow sticking out of her neat hairstyle. It was the first day of school, and you and Seokjin were going absolutely insane at the thought of leaving your little baby, even if it was only for a few hours.

“Appa, let me go peez,” Jin-ae lisps, watching the other children run around the playground with their colorful backpacks. When she sees Seokjin’s teary eyes, her chubby hand reaches out for his, pressing a tiny butterfly kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t cry Appa, olchaeng-i wuvs you. And mommy too.”

The two of you try to stop from erupting into more sobs, holding her tightly. Before you know it, she’s waving goodbye, her tiny body disappearing inside the classroom.

The rest of the day passes by in an eerie trance. You fret over Jin-ae at work, wondering if she’s making friends, and whether or not she’s okay to use the bathroom on her own. Seokjin stares emptily in the fridge, looking at the heaps of fruit that Jin-ae loved to eat, and decides drown his sorrows by eating the whole carton of strawberries.

You come home early, and the two of you head back to the school, waiting with anticipation as the children spill out of the hallways, eyes looking out for your little girl.

When you see her, she screams, running excitedly into your arms. She doesn’t waste a second before launching into a whole explanation of how her day went, excitedly showing you the colorful “art” she’d scribbled.

“Sounds like you had a fun day, baby,” you crouch to her height, swooping her bangs out of her eyes.

“Was ok,” Jin-ae says, becoming quiet.

“What happened baby? Is there anything wrong? School was fun, right?” Seokjin asks her.

“Was ok, but I like home with you and mommy more. Can we go now?”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Jin-ae was growing up, faster than you thought she would, but at the end of the day, she was still happiest by your side. And that meant everything.

. . .

Jin-ae tears up at the memory, regret instantly settling into her heart.

“I’m such an idiot, Uncle Yoongi,” she looks at him. “I said such awful things, I, I can’t even take it back. They’ll never forgive me.”

“They’re your parents Jin-ae. Of course they will.”

The memory of school, and the talk with Yoongi linger in the back of her mind as she slips out of her shoes, tip-toeing silently and making a promise to apologize in the morning. When she stumbles past the living room, however, she stops.

Seokjin is there, his head shifting from side to side, trying to keep from dozing off, while you snooze on his shoulder. He’s humming softly in your ear, and his eyes are so full of love that it makes Jin-ae’s heart hurt.

A choked sob escapes her at the emotional scene, and Seokjin turns at the sound, eyes widening at the sight of his daughter in the hallway, but Jin-ae runs up the stairs before he can say anything.

The door to her room is open, and Seokjin knows by the light that her lamp is still on, and she’s awake. He knocks quietly before letting himself in. Jin-ae lies on the bed, her back to him, not even looking up when she feels the bed sink next to her.

Seokjin doesn’t know how to begin. He’s never been the talker between the two of you, preferring to let his actions speak instead. He feels as though he’s made his way to a wide chasm, able to see his daughter on the other end, but unable to reach out and take her hand.

Which is why it surprises him when she speaks first.

“Aren’t you tired, Appa? Of the guilt? Doesn’t it hurt?” the words are less an accusation, and more of a genuine vocalization of concern.

Jin-ae sits up, and looks at him, really looks at him, and her eyes widen in realization, like she’s seeing him for the first time. He’d tried so hard for her, to be the perfect appa, to be the perfect husband, but deep down, he was the same Seokjin from many years ago.

“I don’t want you to be hurt anymore, appa. I don’t want you or mom to feel like this because of me.”

Jin-ae throws her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder, and he rubs gentle circles on her back.

“I’m only human, olchaeng-i. I try my best, and so does your mom. We try every day to forget the mistakes we’ve made. Do you know what helps us the most though?”

Jin-ae shakes her head, biting at her lips to keep more tears from spilling out.

“It’s you. It’s our family. This love that we have, it’s our second chance. Our shot at happiness. And neither me, or your mom take it for granted ever. We can tell you whatever you want to know, just please, don’t be afraid to talk to us. We need you.”

Jin-ae nods, resting her head on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Can you tell me about her? Mom? Did you love her the very first time you saw her?”

Seokjin smiles at that, marveling at how it’s been twenty years, and he still launches into the story with the same enthusiasm. Jin-ae’s curious voice interrupts him to ask questions every now and then, until the questions are replaced with yawns, and she drifts off by his side.

Tucking her in, Seokjin shuts the door quietly, surprised to see your sleepy figure at the top of the stairs.

“You did good,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“We did good,” he pulls you into him, and the two of you head to bed.

. . .

It’s only been a few hours of restless sleep when you and Seokjin are disturbed by the presence of a third person in your bed, Jin-ae crawling into the sheets between you, wrapping her arms around you.

“I’m sorry mom,” she whispers. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby. I love both of you.”

“Can I sleep here with you guys tonight?” Jin-Ae asks, her voice full of uncertainty.

“Okay,” you tell her, pulling her into you to lay across your chest, like she did when she was a baby. Seokjin puts his arms around both of you, pressing a kiss to your lips when Jin-ae has fallen asleep.

The little house is quiet again, but the good kind, a place for your family reserved within its four walls. The night is peaceful.

A/N pt. 2: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR!! I WILL KEEP LOVING THEM!! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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foxymoxynoona · 4 months

Text

To Kill A King (Chapter 14)

Banner and linebreaks by the talented @awrkives

Summary: What’s more charming than Prince Seokjin? Nothing, obviously. Except maybe the rotating palace guests who each smile and bow and charm in an attempt to hide their true motives. Fortunately Seokjin has a close circle of friends (well, servants) who watch his back and endure his humor and help him navigate the tumultuous seas of heartbreak, love, and an arranged marriage, not necessarily in that order. If only they had helped him keep a closer eye on his bride-to-be’s handmaiden, who arrives with her own agenda… or maybe it would have been better if he had noticed her less? One thing is certain as this royal drama of the heart plays out: there are many people competing to kill a king.

Main Pairing: Prince Seokjin x Female OC Genre: Historical Fantasy World, political conspiracy, romance Rating: 18+ Content Warnings & story tags: includes explicit sex (mxf, fxf), possibly graphic violence/injury later, love and sex triangles or uh quadrangles?, sort of e 2 l, sort of bodyguard trope, sort of arranged marriage, a lot of plotting murder (it’s literally in the title), maybe character death, grief, pining, angst, love, oral (f & m receiving), public sex, I don’t know everything yet as the story is long and still being written

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NOTE: check out the Character & Setting Cheat Sheet for a refresher on who’s who

Old habits die hard. Though Dulce had shifted her purpose to finding some way to prove Nasimiyu and her father were planning to overthrow the Kim family –a thing she hadn’t the faintest idea how to accomplish– an opportunity presented itself in her quest for information that was simply too good to pass up. King Dong-gun quit the palace to go on another of those maniacal cave hunting expeditions, and took most of the palace with him, including Nasimiyu and that ice-cold uncle.

It had almost been funny, that brief moment in which Nasimiyu debated whether to take Dulce. Dulce was back on laundry duty –surprise, surprise– but was carting clean clothes up to the princess’ room. Nasimiyu called for something she could wear on a hunt, then informed Dulce they were going to the caves in the morning, then looked at her in silence for a long moment… before deciding Eula would go. Eula had cried about it all night because she was scared of caves and guns.

Mirta had given Dulce a day’s worth of tasks which she utterly ignored. Was Mirta going to fire her? That would suit her just fine; the only thing keeping her from quitting was needing time to find whatever she could take to Prince Seokjin or King Dong-gun.

As soon as Nasimiyu left for the hunting trip, Dulce ransacked her room. She put everything back so it wouldn’t be obvious, of course, but she dug through all the spaces she normally didn’t care about –the drawers in the writing desk, the false bottom of her jewelry box, the tiara box in the wardrobe that used to house a secret supply of snacks until Nasimiyu ate through them within days of arriving in Priva.

Rooting through the wardrobe made Dulce wonder if Nasimiyu would rat her out about killing the spying man at some point. She could. A princess’ word against a maids would result in nothing other than the death penalty for the maid. Nasimiyu could toss in that Dulce had threatened her about it. It didn’t even have to be true, Nasimiyu could say whatever she wanted and have Dulce’s head off in a moment. Rather than frighten her, this power disparity pissed Dulce off.

She clearly and obviously ought to leave immediately, before that could happen. What was holding Nasimiyu back from doing so this very day? She was clearly angry about Namjoon still, and hadn’t said a word to Dulce since she’d walked in on her and Prince Seokjin fucking. Was she waiting and hoping for Dulce to come groveling to her? Or just biding her time until she could surprise Dulce with an accusation and death?

It didn’t make any sense, and Dulce hated not knowing. She was too close to this one; she wouldn’t be able to leap away before Nasimiyu’s dagger plunged in.

She had to be fast. Faster than this.

But there was nothing incriminating to be found anywhere in Nasimiyu’s room. The letters from her mother were dull and saccharine. There were no letters from her father. She didn’t keep a diary, not even a fake, so there was nothing to betray her as a fiance either, no pining for Namjoon inked onto pages in her hand. Dulce had taught her too well, it seemed.

Dulce paid a visit to the old room Nasimiyu had stayed in, but there likely hadn’t been anything notable there either before it was wiped clean. Same for the rooms Prince Hamisi and Princess Simisola had lived in.

What was Dulce’s next step here? She felt hopelessly out of options. She could approach Prince Seokjin and just tell him… but why would he believe her against his own fiance? He wouldn’t. Dulce was just an out of favor maid. Well, she could tell him more than that if she was willing to sacrifice her own security…

But how did one prove they were an assassin hired to spy and assassinate you? She had no written orders. No secret society brand on her shoulder. No poisoned dagger bearing Prince Hamisi’s emblem or any of the other clues that led to the capture of the villains in the Kalamouche novels. The emblemed dagger in the most recent book she’d read had really done her in, it was nearly enough to make her laugh, it was such a stupid idea. What idiot gave an assassin a clear and obvious connection back to the purse-holder? Dulce had found herself wishing she could meet the author and give him a good thrashing and tell him to do better –nobles were absolute idiots but in a very different way than that. But it had then led to the mental play of Prince Seokjin meeting the author and probably being so exuberant and excited about it because he probably read these ideas and thought they were genius and it had ticked her off so much, this day dream, the fact that she was daydreaming about Prince Seokjin.

What was this man doing to her?! Why?! She had met so many men in her life and this one was… was ignorant and naive and too trusting and… honestly, a clown. And thoughtful and considerate and inappropriately chivalrous and unfortunately almost funny and generous and from what she could see, honest. If he was not honest, he had fooled her. Otherwise, he might be one of the only honest people she had ever met in her life. Everything about him seemed so sincere. Was that true? He did not seem to consider himself when he put himself forward to help someone –a maid who didn’t need rescuing, a crying child, a servant who was secretly his brother and an inherent threat to his throne.

Fuck that guy, he was messing with her head. She had to figure something out and then get the fuck out of here. She’d do her best to find some way to open his eyes to the dangers around him, but she couldn’t die for him. She needed to be gone before Nasimiyu figured it out. Possibly the only thing staying Nasimiyu’s hand right now was that she’d never directly caused someone’s death before. Could that be it? Was there some conscience after all beneath that ridiculous flower crown Prince Seokjin had given Nasimiyu for dinner last night?

She circled the palace trying to look like she had somewhere to be without actually having an aim. Prince Hamisi was too smart to leave anything incriminating in the Kim palace. Nasimiyu never had anything to leave around. She could try interrogating Nasimiyu’s guards or maids for anything but it would raise suspicion on herself unless she killed them afterwards, likely not get her anything, and another death around Nasimiyu would probably send the palace into another frenzy.

How ironic. Dulce was possibly the greatest threat to Nasimiyu, wasn’t she? It occurred to her that striking Nasimiyu down and lying in wait for Prince Hamisi to come running back would be the quickest way to ensure they couldn’t harm Prince Seokjin.

But actually killing Nasimiyu… It made Dulce’s stomach turn. She didn’t need to go that far right now. Dulce was efficient and purposeful, but she wasn’t wasteful. Death was inevitable, but that didn’t mean Dulce was eager to dole it out, not to someone she had so recently been so close to. Honestly, did Nasimiyu deserve to die? She shouldn’t be queen but..

Dulce was compromised. She was too sentimental. The objective truth was that no one person was worth more than the lives of dozens or hundreds of others, but right now Nasimiyu wasn’t a threat to dozens or even hundreds of people. If she died today, there would be a new and probably worse princess betrothed to the prince tomorrow. Nasimiyu was selfish and stubborn but supposedly had good intentions, so in a world where her rule wasn’t a threat to Seokjin’s life, Dulce would have left her alone.

“I have a packet for the King,” a deep voice said, traveling closer up the hallway.

Another voice scoffed, “And I told you, he is not in the palace today so you will have to wait or leave your missives with me.” Dulce recognized the voice of Han-gyeol Jung –that weasley old man constantly looking down his nose at young men and squinting like he could see through the dresses of young women. Allegedly he served as a ‘deportment’ tutor for Prince Seokjin but seemed to leave his more palatable son to do most of the actual refining work.

“I’m in a hurry,” the man said, which struck Dulce as odd. If you had things to deliver to the king, wasn’t that the most important thing you could do? Unless you were just impatient, but he didn’t sound impatient, he sounded… nervous. “They must be delivered directly to the King.”

When Lord Jung or whatever the fuck his proper title was refused to go and physically retrieve the King from the caves, the man snapped that he would try again tomorrow but he wasn’t spending a night here and stomped off. Dulce watched the elder Jung subtly around the corner. He looked completely unbothered by the man’s insistence, as if this sort of urgent entitled demand to see the king was a common occurrence. She found it more curious that he would act as a kind of butler or intermediary for the King in his absence rather than the Castellan or literally anyone else. It seemed outside of his job scope. But what did she know? Besides, most of those people had gone on the hunt.

He strode off to do another task. So the King must not be lying in wait expecting anything urgent, otherwise surely he would let his butler know to fetch him at once should a messenger arrive. Unless Han-gyeol Jung didn’t know anything either and had just unknowingly thwarted something actually very important

Dulce had nothing better to do though (what, maid chores?) and decided to follow the man with the message. He’d not gone far and anyway his steps were loud enough to easily find him, the idiot. She tailed him out of the palace and down into the city, right out the front doors. Nobody looked at him, and she supposed she struck the right balance of looking like a nobody maid that nobody bothered with her either. The man did keep looking anxious around himself but he clearly wasn’t worried about an innocent looking maid with her hair wrapped in a white kerchief the only time he might have seen her over his shoulder.

They moved further into the city. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, which made it easier to keep up with him because his movements were purposeful and obvious. They passed through a couple neighborhoods before he entered an unremarkable tavern, the Bear and Beer.

“Need a room?” the innkeeper asked as the man went straight to the counter.

“Yes, only the night. Middle of the row if you’ve got it,” he said, already dumping coin on the counter as though he knew the cost. They didn’t seem to know each other but he must have been here before; he didn’t wait for further instructions about how to reach “Room 4” before taking the key and heading up. Locking doors meant this was a nicer place, though Dulce could have guessed that from the quiet and decently clean downstairs. The innkeeper kept the keys on a loop that jangled at his hip, which would make it harder to get the spare for Room 4 that he surely kept.

“What about you, need a room?” he called, unfortunately spotting her right away.

Annoyed, she said she was hoping to meet someone and ordered a beer for while she waited. Since it was early in the day, she had her pick of tables where she could watch the few folks who came and went. No one looked suspicious, or even remarkably unsuspicious which could itself be suspicious. Those who came down looked like they’d had a late night to sleep off. Three went up during the time she watched –a maid with an armful of clean linens and a pair with a massive bag between them and the air of disappointment, whatever their business had been that morning.

This was stupid. She was wasting her time on what was likely one of a thousand people who tried to visit the king on any given day and were turned away, and for what reason, because she was bored and frustrated around the palace? She’d have as much luck finding something useful blindly wandering the streets.

She paid for her beer and headed for the door but felt the shuffle of movement close behind her. Turning, she caught only the back of a figure heading purposefully for the stairs as several other people moved around the room at once, getting up to refill mugs of beer or empty tables or step closer to the fire. All normal gestures, but Dulce felt as if the world had thawed quite suddenly, which struck her as odd. Not everyone seemed to be orchestrating something, but rather like something predictable had happened –the waitress had brought in a large tray of food– just as she had risen from the table and others had moved in synchrony too. Coincidence.

But the two people who slipped quickly up the stairs as if they did not wish to be seen felt more intentional. Like people trained to take advantage of a predicted moment of distraction.

Dulce strode forward and bumped into the waitress, who promptly toppled the whole tray onto the table. The patrons leapt up and the waitress leapt back and the innkeeper came running around from the bar squawking about the mess, shoving the waitress out of the way in his rush to apologize –which was just enough physical distraction for Dulce to unhook the ring of keys from his belt. It wasn’t even a twist latch! The fool.

She disappeared up the stairs in the chaos, shedding her cloak and the kerchief in the process, wrapping them into a bundle to mute the jingling of the remaining keys once she’d pulled off the one with the 4 scratched into it.

She put on her best oops wrong room face and rushed through door four… to be met with an empty room. The man had either left or met his fate, but it was definitely his pack still sitting on the bed. She frowned at the stillness and pulled her blade from her pocket, the little shitty one Nasimiyu had given her since it was the closet on hand. If she reached for her boot, he might rush out of the wardrobe or something.

He wasn’t there when she checked though, nor under the bed. Convinced she was alone, she promptly upended his bag. She shoved aside some light clothing, a miniscule bag of money, no more than a handful of jerky and a cheap necklace, and instead focused on the small leatherbound journal –oddly expensive compared to everything else– and a short stack of sealed envelopes. Everything else she shoved back inside, hoping it would buy her some time before the man realized he’d been robbed –of what was probably just a complaint about his neighbor. Dulce realized she was being very rash right now.

A noise in the hallway made her freeze, then leap into the wardrobe mere seconds before the door swung open again. In walked the man she had followed, pulling at his waistband as if he’d just pulled his pants up.

Well shit.

If he had any wits about him, he was going to check the wardrobe in a moment to make sure his room was secure and find her, and what was she going to do? If he was rotten folk, she could kill him and be on her way, but if he wasn’t, she’d rather knock him out.

He didn’t check the wardrobe yet. Instead he sat at the table and produced some cheese and a hunk of bread from his pocket. She held her breath, expecting he’d open his pack for the jerky and notice his precious papers were gone– but he didn’t.

Were people really such fools they didn’t check their rooms first?!

Dulce set the keys in the bottom of the wardrobe with her cloak, moving slowly and carefully so as not to produce even the faintest brushing sound. Then, by the light creeping in through the shoddy cabinetry, she eased open the seal on the first paper and did her best to read. The hand was scratchy and rushed, masculine she thought but couldn’t be sure –her own hand was masculine, she’d been told long ago, as if that mattered.

HD not in Sartia as directed – SD alone

HD crossed border near Ft Gaysa, could not follow, gone 3 days

HD headed north

Dulce’s brow knitted. How annoying to be simultaneously in code but not really. Per request sure sounded like this man had been sent somewhere, to trail this HD to Sartia–

Hamisi Dabo. Dulce was no font of knowledge on famous or infamous persons, but Prince Hamisi had been headed to Sartia with his wife, Simisola Dabo. People were stupid and often the most obvious answer was right.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Was this important? That Prince Hamisi had lied about going to Sartia? What was at Ft Gaysa? If that wasn’t notable, the fact he had crossed the border down there sure was; no one was allowed to cross the southern Therepin border, it would nullify the very precarious treaty after the Therepin Border Wars.

She shoved the note down the front of her dress, blood pounding in her ears as she carefully opened the next. It was in a different hand and dated separately, sealed differently, as if the letters had been sent by two different people completely which left her unsure how they had both wound up with this man.

Summary report on investigation into recent Therepin skirmishes. Full reports arriving separately

1: No witnesses survived. Entire village dead and burned. Civilian deaths: 76.

2: Reliable eyewitness reports invasion of village at dawn. Military arrived 22 minutes later. Military deaths: 1, Assailants: 14 reported - bodies burned could not verify, Citizens: 7.

3: Eyewitness claims assailants came around from the north not south!!! Military arrived in 11 minutes. Military death: 1, Assailants: 13 - bodies burned could not verify, Citizens: 18.

4: Two witnesses survived by hiding under floorboards, have gone missing since interview. Claimed to have heard assailants speak of belonging to Sons of Sunset. Military deaths: 0, Assailants: 32 reported - 3 bodies produced, rest burned could not verify; Civilian deaths: 49 + assuming 2 witnesses

Dulce’s mind was racing. These reports were exactly what she was looking for! Proof that Hamisi was up to something. He shouldn’t be crossing the border, and if the Sons of Sunset were attacking towns and blaming another country, the king needed to know!

But maybe he already knew? She couldn’t tell from just these notes if the King was investigating Prince Hamisi on his own, or if he was just looking into the skirmishes, or what. She knew the royal family had a network of spies, though they tended to be clumsy and easy to identify. This man seemed excessively clumsy though to be carrying such precious documents only to leave them unattended in his room for even a moment. He must not know what he had.

Damn she wished she knew more about what was going on at the border for the notes to make more sense. Namjoon had ranted within earshot at some point but she wasn’t very political and had ignored him. Nonetheless, she would now make sure these landed in the King’s hand directly.

The third didn’t have a seal. Just a dashed, unsigned note on a thin slip of paper.

Delso dead. I’m followed. Take this copy in case I’m done. Watch your back cmdr dsk on the move hunting for squeakers

Cmdr Dsk… Commander Dong-suk Kim? These things weren’t even in code! Any good spy knew the point of code! Though she considered that if the point was to get this information to the King, maybe code wasn’t useful. After all, she was not part of his spy network but understood at least some of the message that needed to make it to the king. It wasn’t actually in the King’s interest for these things to be secret, it was only in the interest of the messengers themselves but by the point someone was reading them, you were likely already dead–

A knock at the door to the room made her head jolt up as quickly as this messenger’s. He rose slowly from the table at another knock. He took a step forward and drew his blade at an even harder knock, nearly enough to take the door off its hinges.

The man started to run for the window, but the act of grabbing his pack from the bed was too slow –he ought to have grabbed and run first, the fool! And he paid dearly for it as the door crashed in, the lock shattering right out of the doorframe as one of the suspicious men she’d seen slide upstairs earlier launched himself through.

A thrown dagger caught the messenger in the back of the neck and he toppled forward, metal protruding through the front. Still his body dragged him forward but there was no fight for life possible and by the time the large man carelessly ripped the bag from his shoulder, he was still and limp.

“Is it the right room this time?” a second voice demanded. He elbowed the door back into place after a peek down the hallway. “You sure it’s him?”

“This is the guy.”

“--Is what you said about the other.”

Dulce waited, calculating. If they’d made short work of someone in another room without even her hearing, they were a trifle better at their jobs than this careless messenger. She could remain hidden and hope they left, but only an idiot wouldn’t check the fucking wardrobe.

Two to one… she’d faced worse odds. All three notes carefully down her bodice, she eased her favorite dagger from under her skirt, touched the one in her boot to make sure it was at hand, took a deep breath, then launched herself from the cabinet.

They’d upended the backpack and the bigger man’s wrist tangled in the straps, which slowed him down enough for Dulce’s blade to slash his upper arm. His other first swung around and would probably have knocked her out cold if she hadn’t ducked just as the smaller man’s blade sliced at her back. Fabric caught and tore thanks to a hook on the tip of his blade that would do even nastier things to skin if she let it, but also presented a weakness. She tried to catch her blade in it to yank it away but misjudged the angle once, twice, three times; their blades struck and slid against each other, the metal grating noise making her skin crawl. It was too much thinking and not enough movement to keep her out of reach of the second man who wasn’t that bothered after all by his cut arm: he plucked her around the waist and threw her against the wall like a rag doll.

“Quiet,” the small man hissed at him after the thud. Dulce groaned and rolled onto her stomach, wheezing. But she’d managed to save some of the breath in her lungs by curling as she flew, and took advantage of their assumption she’d be down. She dragged herself deceptively slowly forward and when the smaller man lifted a leather boot to kick her, she stabbed her smaller blade right down into the toe of his boot as hard as she could. Those fine leather boots of his parted like butter; the toes she stabbed through put up more resistance. He yowled.

“Quiet!” the bigger man mocked and lifted Dulce from the ground by the torn back of her dress, his other blade already slicing at her middle as if to gut her. She slashed at his wrist with the second knife. He tried to knock it away, opening himself up to a straight stab to the gut with the blade from her boot, and another and another. Her blade sank in several inches each time, blood rushing out as she pulled it out, but nowhere deep enough to hit anything vital.

“Fucking whore!” he bellowed and dropped her just as the other man stabbed forward. They weren’t well coordinated and managed to knock into each other while she ducked down and spun away. It only saved her a moment though before both were on her again, small blades biting anywhere they reached. The room’s space was too tight to really maneuver away and they shoved furniture, blundered into the walls, tripped over the body of the messenger, crashed against the bed.

“Just grab her!” the smaller man shouted. Dulce instinctively leapt away from the larger man as his fist clipped the back of her head, but maybe intentionally so, it had been a distraction and the smaller man slashed at her throat, just missing. Dulce struck back but another blow to her back pushed her right into the man’s blade; she knocked it away from her belly but he brought a second around to stab at her back. She slammed her foot onto his thigh and jumped high so that his blade sliced the side of her leg instead, tangling in her ridiculous skirt and tearing fabric and skin both. She returned the favor against the man’s face, an attempt to kill him that sadly missed.

Dulce felt a meaty hand grab the front of her dress and turn her for what was undoubtedly a death blow. She turned faster than the larger man expected and wrapped around him, the strings of her bodice ripping and tangling around his hand as she slid onto his back, her blade dragging across his throat like a caress. It was butchery; she couldn’t risk her cut being too shallow again. He threw himself backwards to avoid the depth, crushing her against the dresser as his blood fountained out and his body began to thrash in in a fit of primal survival. It took all the muscles of her arm to tear that pipe. She managed to slide away from him, diving after the other man who seemed monentarily shocked that she’d managed to down his companion –but not shocked enough to meet the same fate.

He leapt towards her as the other man still flailed, blade extended. Dulce tripped on the dead messenger and it saved her skin; neither she nor the smaller man expected her to drop just then. She rolled around him instead and stabbed at his thigh; the blade sank in but her fingers were locked too tight so when he leapt away it jerked her along too, exposing her side. Her skirt twisted around her leg and later she’d curse herself for wearing such a stupid thing. He took the opportunity, blade going right for her ribs. Her turn dragged it instead across the tops of her breasts, a shallow slice that stung like a bitch. the other side of her torn bodice caught the actual hook of his blade. She stabbed in the direction of his arm.

He surprised her, shoving his hand down the front of her chemise. She thought he was stabbing and tried to twist away.

Instead he pulled out the notes she’d tucked, dashed with her blood and sweat and crumbled beyond belief. He flashed her a grin and was out the window in a heartbeat, unbothered by the knife she threw at his back. Dulce tried to stumble after him, to follow him out, but her legs refused and she merely crawled forward. By the time she reached the, he was long gone and she was alone in the bloodied, broken room with two corpses, the larger one still blinking and gasping but beyond consciousness.

Dulce panted for breath and felt herself, searching for anything fatal. It had all happened so fast. Bruises and cuts she hadn’t noted in the moment competed for attention but adrenaline kept her from surrendering to any of it just yet.

The notes were gone.

Fuck!

That’s what they’d been looking for.

She didn’t have time to think about it right now. They’d been noisy; any moment someone was going to crash through the broken door and she couldn’t be here. She refused to take the fall for whatever she had stumbled into.

Fuck, the notes were gone. It killed her. They were exactly what she had needed! She didn’t want to leave empty handed but pounding steps in the hall told her she had seconds to act. She grabbed the messenger’s coat he had previously hung on the chair and yanked it on over her torn clothes and with her braid tucked down, pulled his hat on low, and rushed towards the door.

“Hey! What’s going on in there!! Open up!” the inn keeper or someone matching his anger shouted ahead of themself, storming down the hall. Dulce weighed her options. She could rush out but didn’t know how many people were there. The other man had gone out the window, so there was a way. He might be waiting but it was her best change.

She grabbed her favorite blade and leapt onto the windowsill, eying the likeliest path he had taken.

Shake all you want, but you’re moving on, she told her legs and took the leap. It was a tight scrabble. Her fingers ached for purchase. She shimmied along the narrow ledge until she reached the lower roof, then tore over it before anyone from the ground would hopefully notice her. The stables on the other side had enough boxes to leap down like a cat and off she raced as soon as her boots touched ground. Some globs of blood dotted the hay-strew ground; she’d got the man good at least once and wished now she’d at least had a good look at his face. She would never recognize him in a room and that pissed her off. He might recognize her.

She noticed the gasps and curious, nervous glances as she sprinted down the street until she knew her legs really were about to buckle. Then she slid into an alley, turned the coat inside out, and did her best to piece herself back together.

In doing so, she discovered she still had one paper: HD not in Sartia as directed – SD alone

Useless on its own.

Now what to fucking do. She was injured, unclear how badly. She knew she looked awful and would raise too many questions if she limped into the palace like that, but where else did she have to go? She didn’t even have the money for a room to wash her face in.

Taehyung or Yoongi? Which could she get to without being seen? Which did she trust to help and not question? What a loss that Nasimiyu couldn’t shield her now.

Neither, she didn’t trust anyone. Ever. People were only loyal as long as it served them. No oath in the world was sacred, even one of love, and they had sworn her nothing.

But she had no other options.

She took her bet and set off, already crafting her story.

“Come on,” Drin cajoled, jostling Seokjin’s arm in the hallway. “You can’t avoid the hunt.”

“I’m not avoiding anything,” Seokjin lied, lied as big and strong as the angry surf that had crashed against the sea wall all night. It called to him, that sea. Only slightly in a macabre way –and not because of the wedding planning, that was fine. He wasn’t avoiding wedding planning. Why would he be avoiding wedding planning? Nor was he avoiding his uncle, as Drin now gracefully hinted it:

“You’re either avoiding your uncle or the caves but either way, you’re fucked. Your father has sent for you. A tummyache ain’t a good reason to skip the hunt.”

“Actually I find it a very good reason,” Seokjin quipped. “Would he have me shit my horse?”

“You can’t blame a stomach to avoid uncomfortable things, little prince. Turn right around and suit up for the hunt. Wear a baby’s swaddle to hold the shit, if you need to.”

“Does no one take me seriously?”

“We know you’ve a history of avoiding–”

“I’m not avoiding anything, except maybe the kitchen.”

Because god save him if he ran into Dulce there. Not after Dulce had walked in on him… with Nasimiyu… A cold shudder ran through his body, followed by the flush of a fever of mortification. It would have been bad for anyone to walk in –didn’t anyone fucking knock?! But of all people, for it to be Dulce, it just…

He wanted to scream. To cry. To throw up. He’d done none of those things. He had quickly dressed and fled to his room and taken a hot bath to wash the sex off and considered drowning himself more than once. For all he knew, his dick had shriveled into his body and would never emerge. Certainly he was never going to have sex again. He was private about sex, thank you very much, so for an unwelcome guest to intrude–

And for it to be Dulce– on or around her birthday, of all times!

Seokjin was not easy to embarrass. But this had done it. And, with little practice in recovering from an embarrassment he rarely felt, he was, in fact, hiding from a maid. Utter shock had emboldened him to hastily scribble the note with the book and send Jimin to deliver it to wherever Dulce slept and now his interactions with her were done and he would never look her in the eye again. Which meant avoiding any of the places they might ever run into each other, including but not limited to: the kitchen where she went for food, the yard where she sometimes passed by, any of the hallways near Nasimiyu’s room, and possibly the queen’s garden where she seemed to appreciate the flowers. He wondered if Nasimiyu would be willing to come to his room from now on… assuming this hadn’t just rendered him impotent for life.

Honestly wandering into a bullet’s path in the caves seemed like not the worst way to go right now.

Because in truth Seokjin also knew he could not avoid Dulce forever, particularly if she remained Nasimiyu’s maid.

He felt like he’d assaulted Dulce. His note wasn’t enough. He didn’t know what else to do. He’d never been in the wrong in this way towards a woman before! And she might be around any corner in this palace, ready to turn to look right through him with those dark eyes that looked so warm behind a mug of hot chocolate. The whole thing was ghastly. How his father had allegedly carried on orgies in the dining hall was beyond Seokjin. Would it have been less devastating if it was someone else? He decided not to answer that, even to himself.

“Is Nasimiyu really going?” Seokjin asked Jimin over his shoulder. “Who’s she taking with her?” The question probably said too much but Jimin was sworn to loyalty and wouldn’t rat him out, even if he figured out the question behind Seokjin’s question. Which he probably did, seeing as Seokjin had told him what happened and had him deliver the book.

“She is, Sir, and expects you are too. She’s not taking any of her maids.”

That was good enough for Seokjin.

“Fine, I’ll go,” Seokjin said to Drin.

“What now, really?”

“I’ll go change.”

“No, you’re off to hide. You’re dressed fine, just take your jacket off. A fight doesn’t always wait for the prince go get changed into clothes he doesn’t mind bloodying!” Drin barked, and clapped Seokjin on the shoulder. He seemed shockingly sober, likely a result of Uncle Dong-suk’s arrival. The two had served together when they were younger, as peers. But Dong-suk was royal and rose to commander and Drin shattered his arm and decided to train the prince instead of remain on the battlefield. Dong-suk was of the mindset you should die on the battlefield instead of “give in to disability,” which Seokjin thought was rich to say when you had no such injury. As if being the private arms tutor to the prince was a mark of weakness!

“Why are you so eager?” Seokjin demanded, already regretting it. “We aren’t fighting, we’re hunting.”

“Is it different?” Drin cryptically asked and strode ahead, trusting Seokjin to follow to the courtyard where the hunting party gathered.

“Did you really think you could avoid the hunt?” Jungkook asked, sidling up to Seokjin’s elbow as the prince dragged his feet but followed his trainer. Seokjin gave him a look, because obviously yes, he did and would have, even if it meant lying to his father and uncle that he was shitting his brains out. But also no, he had known he couldn’t, because Nasimiyu was going and he couldn’t leave her to hunt alone. Why had she decided to go?! It was that bit of information from Jimin that had dragged Seokjin from his hiding place.

She sat atop her horse with only two of her guards at hand. Taehyung wasn’t far off, a horse lead in each hand, though he looked confused. Seokjin assumed it was concern over whether Seokjin would show and went right to him, hairs on the back of his neck prickling as his father and uncle no doubt noted his late arrival.

“I’m to go with you,” Taehyung said quietly.

“You? Why, you’re a stable boy,” Seokjin scoffed for any who might hear.

“I don’t know, your uncle said so.”

Seokjin glanced over at the two elder Kim men now. Uncle Dong-suk didn’t hide that he was watching.

“Do you think he–” Taehyung broke off and looked away, poorly hiding his nerves.

Seokjin slapped a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and announced loudly, “Congratulations on winning the honor of joining us on the hunt! Every month we’ll take along someone new from the household staff so that you may all experience the wonder and prestige of spending a day skulking around in the dark, looking for things to kill that aren’t even good to eat. You’ll ride with me today, aren’t you lucky?”

“So lucky,” Taehyung murmured. “Here’s your horse…” He glanced at the path down to the hunting caves as if considering whether he ought to just set out for Paloma now. Seokjin thought he should. This did seem suspicious, for Dong-suk to take any notice of Taehyung. He had visited Priva a couple times since Seokjin brought Taehyung to live here and never even looked at the stablehand, but Seokjin had always assumed his uncle knew and didn’t give a shit, as he didn’t have a direct descendent in line for the throne anyway. Nothing changed for Dong-suk if it was Seokjin’s ass on the throne someday or Taehyung’s.

But this was a change. Either he hadn’t know before and now did, or he was trying to make a point that something had changed now, and Seokjin didn’t like it either way.

“Lady,” he called to Nasimiyu as he mounted his horse, one last prayer of bailing. “Are you well today?”

Nasimiyu’s brow knit as she demanded, clearly offended, “I am, why do you ask?”

“Are you sure this is how you want to spend a day? We might do… anything else your heart desires. Literally anything.”

“Oh there are Lord Jothi and Lord Theo, should we ride with them again?” Nasimiyu asked. “I do hope you’re able to catch something this time.”

“I caught your heart last time, can’t imagine what greater prize there exists then–”

“Let’s ride!” Seokjin’s father called as if recognizing his son was still trying to weasel out of this. The two dozen mounts in the courtyard moved as one, Taehyung rushing to swing into his saddle and pulling into line next to Jungkook in Seokjin’s wake.

Conversation with Nasimiyu ran dry during the ride down. She didn’t seem much inclined to talk, giving him the suspicion he’d done something to anger her, but he couldn’t fix it because he didn’t know what. She hadn’t seemed angry at dinner last night.

“You decided to hunt alone?” he asked as they waited for servants to bring them weapons.

“I have my guards and you. Who else would I want?” Nasimiyu asked with what he thought might be feigned confusion.

“Last time you brought a couple of maids, didn’t you?”

“Yes and they all begged not to come again.” She said it so casually, Seokjin had no reason not to believe her. With any luck, Dulce was avoiding him the same way, and they would never cross paths again despite living in the same palace.

Yay?

Once in the grand entrance cave, Jungkook pulled his horse close to Seokjin and leaned as near he could to murmur, “It’s going to be impossible to keep an eye on Taehyung and you at the same time.”

Seokjin knew he was right. This was the easiest place in the world to kill someone. He’d always thought how stupid that man who’d tried to assassinate him had been, sending a pig to do it, when one could just do it from a ledge or around a corner and no one would ever catch you. It was a wonder more people weren’t killed here –though he had his suspicions that the dark rumors his great-grandfather had hunted men down here for sport might be very true. He suspected Grandfather had too, though the old bastard had died when Seokjin was young enough to not remember much about him except his ice-cold hands.

“Watch him closer,” Seokjin told Jungkook.

“Than–”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. That’s your order.”

“Ok…” Jungkook said as he leaned back in his saddle. He didn’t look pleased about this but he’d never disobeyed an order before.

“I mean it. Jimin will watch after me,” Seokjin said, turning to his right-hand man.

Jimin let out a guffaw and asked, “Did you just assign me bodyguard status? You must be joking, haha.” He hesitated to accept the gun handed to him by a staff of the hunt before taking it with a look of disgust.

Nasimiyu, having heard some bits of this, asked, “Is there a problem? Why is your butler being a bodyguard?”

“It’s just a joke,” Seokjin assured her. “Are we ready? Let’s get a head start.”

“Don’t we have to wait for your father to–”

“I’m the prince so I’ll do as I please,” he said, full of shallow bravado. “Besides, I don’t want to ride with Theo and Jothi again. They were flirting with you last time.”

Nasimiyu looked surprisingly thrilled as she argued, “No they weren’t… were they? I don’t think so…”

“Eager to lead the charge, my son?” Dong-gun called, giving his horse a swift kick to catch up before Seokjin’s party made it through the first cave. Dong-suk pulled up beside his elder brother and Seokjin bit back his frustration.

Instead he teased, “Shall we make a competition of it, father?”

“I’d rather watch your technique and see the catch myself,” Dong-suk interjected, which was of course exactly the opposite of what Seokjin wanted. Did his uncle mean to shoot Taehyung himself?! He brought no guards, only the servant assigned to fetch his kills trotting along beside him, looking terrified by his assignment as if he too realized how disposable he was as a witness.

“Well you shall… certainly be in awe…” Seokjin stammered out as Drin too pulled forward.

“A full party, eh? Just like old times,” he beamed at Dong-suk. Dong-suk did not beam back. “He’s made good progress in arms since you were here last but his sharpshooting is second to none. Fantastic aim, that one’s got.”

Dong-gun clapped his hands and pulled his horse ahead, taking an uncontested lead that Seokjin had no choice at the moment but to follow –with every intention of carving Taehyung and Nasimiyu off to get “lost” down a side cave at the first chance.

Dong-gun and Dong-suk weren’t going to make it easy. They led them, practically boxed them in, down the central corridor, right past all the twisty windy smaller paths that would have made it easier to “take a wrong turn.” No one dared rush past them, so they were the first to enter the grand central cavern with its massive forest and craggy peak –not too dissimilar from the cavern he’d explored with Nasimiyu and Dulce and those bratty upstarts last time, so that an average person might think they were the same place. That was the danger with this place, it was a death trap if you didn’t have a good guide.

Dong-gun and Dong-suk wasted no time along the way shooting anything that moved, no hesitation. Despite his uncle’s constant criticism of Priva and its excesses, he loved the hunt. It was about the only time he saw his uncle smile, just a tight-lipped slant when a deathcry followed the crack of his rifle. He scowled when Dong-gun would get one first, their array of servants running to and fro in the dark with low lanterns trying to find whatever they’d felled or take the long way round to chase what lay strewn against the far cliffs.

“They’re going to shoot someone,” Nasimiyu gasped as a goat went stock still in the distance, illuminated by those shimmering blue lights overhead, then collapsed not too far off from a game master who raised his hands in a silent plea not to be shot next.

Seokjin’s father heard her and scoffed, “Never, Princess. You doubt our aim?”

In one swift motion he’d turned his rifle towards Taehyung on his horse and fired, knocking Taehyung’s hat clean off. A pinch from taking Taehyung’s head with it, most likely.

Taehyung didn’t scream, just tightened his hold on his horse as it took a couple nervous steps.

Seokjin screamed loud enough for both of them. He shouted, “Ah ya, what’s that!? You take aim at our staff guest? Are you confused, old man? Aim your gun that way!” His heart pounded in his chest, his fear urging him to take flight and trust Taehyung to follow and get away from this place. He’d brought his only living brother into a deathtrap, that’s what he’d just done. Was their own father the threat, not Dong-suk? Seokjin was shocked by what had just happened.

His father laughed and pointed out, “See? Horse or man, Privan stallions are made of stern stuff.”

Nasimiyu’s horror showed on her face and Seokjin was glad his father couldn’t see it, afraid it would only encourage him.

“Onwards,” Seokjin gritted out and pulled his horse forward, nudging Taehyung to ride beside him, against the wall.

Seokjin fucking hated it here.

It wasn’t long before Nasimiyu nudged her horse up beside him, forcing Taehyung to fall back, which was probably for the best anyway.

“Shoot something,” she hissed at him.

“What?”

“We’re here to hunt, so hunt, or they’re going to be shooting at you next,” she whispered harshly. “The whole thing is a test, isn’t it? Your uncle is watching you so do something!”

Seokjin didn’t know how to explain a lifetime of misery and fear of his uncle to her. He didn’t think she’d be impressed anyway. What was he going to tell her, that anything more intelligent than a fish he found nauseating to kill? It wasn’t like they were killing to eat out of necessity down here. The game alway tasted like rocks.

He was glad she realized there were politics going on but disappointed she wanted him to play into them, even though he recognized she was probably right.

Drin was right that his aim was good; if he aimed true, he could fell something quickly, appease his father and uncle, impress his bride-to-be, and maybe protect Taehyung in case that had been meant as some kind of weird show of power.

“Very well,” he murmured. “Yes, it’s about time I show off my marksmanship.” He took his time loading his gun as their horses dawdled after the others. He looked around for something inoffensive to murder, but the blue lights gave everything the same unearthly glow and made it hard to distinguish a mouse from a monkey in the trees. He looked at the ridge instead, and in doing so noted a something-or-other silhouetted against the stream trickling through the center of this stretch of cavern.

“Perfect shot, I should think,” Dong-suk mused from ahead, his horse blocking the path for everyone. His gaze tore into Seokjin, digging in deep, finding him lacking as always.

Seokjin raised his gun and aimed. It didn’t matter what it was at this point, he didn’t have a way out without further ridicule. His brother’s life might be in danger. He had to pull the trigger.

He hesitated.

A crack erupted, bouncing around them, echoing in Seokjin’s ears. The black lump slipped from the tree branch. Seokjin wanted to do the same from his horse but remained frozen.

“Fantastic shot, my son!” Dong-gun cheered. “Go fetch it, whatever it was. An owl?”

“I hope not…” Seokjin joked vaguely, and resisted looking except out of his periphery at Taehyung shoving the smoking barrel of his gun out of view under the pretense he was looking down the barrel still trying to find something to shoot.

“That was a great shot, Your Highness,” he called over his shoulder to Seokjin.

“Marvelous,” Nasimiyu agreed. She gave him a smirk, leaving him unsure if she had been fooled or not.

“Hm,” his uncle said. Seokjin doubted he was fooled but either way, didn’t say anything.

It was a kestrel. Beautiful. Seokjin hadn’t even actually killed it and still looked away.

They rode on, into a smaller cave called The Aviary thanks to the hundreds of birds that roosted in the trees that grew up and the vines that dangled down and the clear space in between.

“Can’t miss in here,” Dong-gun called back. “Want a go, Princess? I think your rifle’s still cold.”

“Of course!” she called back. “I’ve just been watching to learn the layout of the caves.” Seokjin started to tell her she didn’t have to –he’d take the attention away– but Nasimiyu lifted her rifle and fired once– twice– nothing. She handed it to her servant to reload, hand waving for them to hurry. Seokjin didn’t think she’d aimed at anything and decided she must be firing wide.

Except her next shot connected. Seokjin didn’t see what it was as he had been watching her face, but the cheer went up, he heard the broken cry behind him, and he saw Nasimiyu’s face –shocked, horrified, for only a moment, and then triumphant. Had she had a change of heart or pulled on a mask?

The bird was brought to her, a beautiful yellow-feathered song bird that draped across her hands, a bright messy red spot on its stomach where her bullet had punctured and killed. She stared at it and then at Seokjin, like she wasn’t sure what to do with this.

“What is it?”

“We call them Sun Singers,” Seokjin told her. “They sing every morning when the sun rises but not down here. They can’t see the sun so they never sing.” Do you understand how fucking sad that is? He was afraid she wouldn’t get it. He felt an innate certainty Dulce would.

“My lady, do you wish to have it stuffed?” the servant asked her.

Her face flickered with emotions he couldn’t name as she asked, “Can it not be eaten?”

“No, they only sing, they aren’t good for eating.”

“Take it away,” she said, thrusting it back at the servant. Dong-gun and Dong-suk had both brought down geese and Taehyung a duck. Rifle cracks left and right made Seokjin flinch. And the niggling worry in his stomach that his uncle knew he’d faked the shot earlier. He felt his uncle’s eyes on him even when they weren’t, the man sitting proudly on his horse obnoxiously nearby, in between Drin and Taehyung. Shit, he didn’t want his uncle anywhere near Taehyung!

In a hurry to cause a commotion and separate them, Seokjin raised his rifle. He’d shoot a bird, a duck if he could manage it, and invite his uncle over to inspect the bird and feel his warm rifle for proof he’d shot it, and then growl at Jungkook and Jimin to bookend Taehyung and not leave his side until they got out of this place.

There, a bird perfectly arching into view. Seokjin aimed, calculated, and pulled the trigger.

No one would be able to say whether it was the shot that spooked the horse or not, except that Jungkook would swear the horse jumped before the shot and Seokjin believed him because Privan horses didn’t spook. It was too quick. He was certain there had been nothing even close to his line of firing at the moment he pulled the trigger and yet suddenly there was Drin, nearly taking a bullet through the head.

This time Seokjin didn’t scream, just dropped from his horse and ran over as Drin did the same, slapping at his head like a bee had stung him.

“Damn horse!” Drin shouted.

Seokjin grabbed his arms but Drin shoved him away in his startle, leaving a bloody handprint on Seokjin’s arm.

I’ve killed him. I’ve fucking killed him.

“Your head’s still on,” Dong-suk called, his voice cutting through the chaos. Seokjin reached for Drin again but Dong-gun took hold of him first and shone a light to the back of Drin’s head where the bullet had grazed but not penetrated. A red line across his scalp wept blood.

“I… I’m sorry…” Seokjin stammered, stumbling backwards.

Suddenly Drin laughed and gestured at Dong-suk, “That’s right, old man. I told you he’s got a good aim, eh? Bends bullets in mid-flight. Could have blown my head off thanks to that damn horse startling!”

But it didn’t make sense. Seokjin was too horrified to figure out what would. All he knew was that he’d almost killed his arms master, one of his friends. He didn’t know how he would have dealt with that. He couldn’t comprehend it.

Drin planted a shaking hand on Seokjin’s shoulder and laughed, “Good one, Sir. Think I’ll head back and get my rock stitched up now, no more hunting competition from me today!”

“I’ll go back with you,” Seokjin insisted.

“Nah, don’t bother. Still need to get your duck for dinner like you vowed!”

A crack over their heads echoed, followed shortly by the thump of a carcass hitting the path not far off. Taehyung lowered his smoking gun.

“I saved you the trouble, Your Highness,” Taehyung said to Seokjin, his brow lowered and serious. “There’s a duck for you.”

Uncle Dong-suk slid from the horse himself to pick it up and mused, “Nice shot, boy.”

“Great. That’s the end of the day for me. Nasimiyu, will you accompany me back to the palace as well? You come too, my horse will only settle for you,” Seokjin rattled off, calling his people to him, prepared for his father and uncle to protest his rapid departure. But terror strengthened his blood to iron and he would have shouted down his own father to get out of there

He’d almost killed Drin.

By the time he was in his saddle, Dong-gun and Dong-suk were laughing at these “children with their brief stamina” and venturing further into the cave.

“I’ll lead us out,” he said. “Drin, are you able to stay horsed?”

“It’s not that bloody bad, nothing a stiff drink won’t pull me through,” the man insisted, sounding more like himself as he fished a flask out of his saddlebag. He needed help getting back into his saddle after the servants finished tying the makeshift bandage around his head, but once there seemed stable enough.

“Do you know the way out?” Nasimiyu asked. She’d been quiet for a while. Seokjin had forgotten all about her, to be honest. What would she make of this? But it almost seemed like she’d missed it all; she kept glancing at the game bag attached to her saddle. She reached out and pushed the golden feathers peeking out deeper into the sack.

“I do,” Seokjin said simply and pulled his horse ahead.

It wasn’t until they were safely in the sunny courtyard, Drin off to the hands of the palace doctors, that Jungkook came right to Seokjin’s side and said quietly, “The horse jumped before the gunshot.”

“I almost killed him,” Seokjin rushed out, grabbing Jungkook’s arm. He felt less steady now than he had in the cave.

“It wouldn’t have been your fault. I’m telling you, the horse jumped at nothing.”

“I don’t think it was nothing,” Taehyung argued. “But whatever he did, I couldn’t see it clearly.”

“Who?” Seokjin asked even though he already knew the answer.

“Your uncle. Had to be him, but I couldn’t see it…”

“There were other servants around and it was dark,” Jimin pointed out. “Could have been someone else.”

“Why would anyone else give Drin’s horse a kick? Everyone around here likes Drin,” Jungkook argued.

It was Taehyung who swallowed and suggested, “Maybe they didn’t mean to kick his horse. Maybe it was supposed to be mine.”

The suggestion made Seokjin feel even clammier than he already did. As bad as it would have been to kill his swordsmaster, to kill Taehyung would be worse. He wasn’t sure he could live with it. He didn’t even want to kill a duck.

Seokjin didn’t know what to do about any of this. He didn’t want Taehyung to go, but clearly he wasn’t safe right now. If Dong-suk wanted him dead, nowhere would be safe though.

“Jungkook, stay with Taehyung. I’m going to my room so I don’t need a guard. Taehyung you should… pack.”

Taehyung’s face shifted quickly into complaint, as if he hadn’t just faced his own death once or possibly twice.

“But I can’t leave yet.”

“Or die? You have to go if I have to wrap you in a carpet and toss you on a ship myself.” He paused, watching Nasimiyu speaking to the servant near her own horse, gesturing with disdain at the game bag the servant kept trying to press on her.

Taehyung stomped off without further comment but clearly pissed. As if Seokjin wanted him to go! He couldn’t put into words how much he wanted Taehyung to stay here. He’d never been good at expressing brotherly devotion of any sort, and Seok-ho was the brother he’d been with for most of his life, but Taehyung must know that Seokjin cared very much for him! They would always be brothers, even if they couldn’t be in the same city, at least for now.

Nasimiyu was gone. Seokjin was glad. He didn’t feel like facing her right now either. He wished he could just disappear. Even his bedroom wasn’t far remote enough, but it’s the only place he had, and so he went.

Nasimiyu bit back her sigh when the summons from Lady Zselyke came. The summons. Obviously it wasn’t worded quite as such but the intention was clear, and for now she had to endure it because until she actually wed Seokjin, the two of them were in an odd inversion of their proper roles. Lady Zselyke was the only female member of the Kim family, and older, and clearly extending her hand in an attempt to be some sort of mentor.

Annoying.

Nasimiyu had begged off the last invitation(s), and planned to do so again, claiming exhaustion from the hunt that morning. A week wouldn’t have been enough time to recover from all that and it had only been a few hours.

But the invitation had included a warning that the party was at risk, and anyway what else was she going to do, pace her room and try to get that dead bird out of her mind? How stupid to be bothered by a dead bird. Not that she thought the bird was the worst part of it, but that was the ghost her mind chose to haunt her with in every still moment right now, rather than the almost two deaths she had witnessed, one at her own fiance’s hand and the other by her father-in-law’s atrocious bravado.

So she went. Lady Zselyke wanted to discuss some of the details of the wedding party –unavoidable. The wedding itself was being carefully managed by the planner, but the party afterwards was supposed to be planned by Nasimiyu as a first show of her critically important role… as the royal party planner.

Annoying.

Nasimiyu put herself into a dress that already had a tricky seam on the verge of ripping, intentionally, so she could do so after an acceptable period of time and excuse herself to have it fixed. That was something Dulce had taught her early on –Nasimiyu could recall it in vivid detail: shortly after they’d finished fucking, Dulce had gone to get her trousers and a heavy ball had fallen out of her pocket and emitted a horrible stench that drove them both coughing from the room. A literal stink bomb. Laughing, Dulce had explained one should always plan an exit, though it was regrettable, she had not intended to use it with Nasimiyu. At least not that day.

Always plan your exit.

Even from an romantic entanglement?, Nasimiyu had teased.

Always.

Nasimiyu frowned at the maid who stepped ahead to open the door of Lady Zselyke’s parlor. Babs. She had Babs, hated that name, hated how overly eager the woman was to do the things Nasimiyu wanted ahead of her even asking. She didn’t like maids who acted like she was a cruel or unfair mistress when she really tried not to be unreasonable. She tried to treat them kindly. For example, when they had all looked horrified about who she would take on the hunt with her since it wasn’t going to be Dulce, she’d decided to take none of them. Kindness! It wasn’t like she wanted to be there either, but she needed the respect of the king and that nightmare military brother of his.

Anyway she had strongly believed Seokjin would beg off anyway and then she would decline the invitation without him… but he’d bloody gone! And shot nothing and nearly killed someone. What sort of man took credit for a stablehand’s shot? Not that she was going to point that out in the moment.

ANNOYING.

Nasimiyu sat across from Lady Zselyke in the elegant, tastefully decorated parlor. So much of the palace was ostentatious but these rooms were slightly less so.

“Did you decorate in here?” Nasimiyu asked when Lady Zselyke had said nothing, only watched with her hands folded, clearly waiting for something.

“I did.”

“Did you decorate the rest of the palace?”

Lady Zselyke’s lips gave a tight tremble before she answered, “Some… it’s largely set by the late Queen’s tastes and the King’s though, and the King requires me to uphold it.”

“That’s a shame. You have lovely taste,” Nasimiyu said. Then, realizing it would be easy to read an insult to her royal in-laws from what she’d said, she appended, “I just mean–”

“You don’t have to excuse flattery towards me. I appreciate a discerning eye. The Queen had other interests. The King has other talents.” She said it in such a coy way that Nasimiyu wanted to recoil from; it sounded sexual. As far as she knew, there was no sex between these cousins, but the gutcheck made her tread a bit more cautiously. She wondered what Dulce would make of that idea…

“Well soon it will be yours to redecorate the palace as you like,” Lady Zselyke mused, looking around her room as though trying to picture it with Nasimiyu’s style. “Will you make it look very different, do you think?”

“Do you mean like home? It would take a monumental effort to make this Privan palace look Marvonese.”

“You will have all the money and workers you could hope for at your disposal. You could make this palace look exactly like… there.” The word sounded loaded, like a single syllable conveyed all Lady Zselyke had to say about Marvonese style. In short, she didn’t like it.

Nasimiyu felt insulted and said archly, “It ought to reflect the convergence of mine and Seokjin’s styles, don’t you think? Where is it you spent your childhood, Lady Zselyke? I don’t think it was here, was it?”

“Sartia.”

“Is that what this style is? I’ve never been to Sartia.”

“I don’t think it would be to your liking, since you don’t like the sea.”

Nasimiyu found it interesting Zselyke knew that about her. She had certainly never admitted that to anyone except Dulce. It made her wonder if Dulce and Zselyke had gotten close. She certainly didn’t know everything Dulce had gotten up to. She couldn’t be trusted after all; maybe she was fucking the king’s cousin to get information, who even knew with that girl anymore?

“Sugar?” Lady Zselyke offered

“No, thank you. The tea here is already so sweet,” Nasimiyu quickly intervened, reaching for the tea cup Lady Zselyke had poured.

“You don’t like sweet things?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“The world runs on sweet things,” Lady Zselyke said, which Nasimiyu didn’t even pretend to understand. Her face must have shown it, because Zselyke clarified, “Any party must have sweet things. The nobles here prefer them. If you mean not to have sweets…”

Nasimiyu’s nose crinkled before she decided, “Why don’t you just choose the sweets for the wedding party then. That’s what we’re here to talk about, right?”

“Yes, we need to, I’m afraid we’re woefully behind schedule, especially if you have any grand ambitions.”

“I really don’t.”

“You should.”

“I’ll be honest, Lady Zselyke, I love attending parties, but I do not love planning them,” Nasimiyu said because she might as well be upfront about it.

Lady Zselyke looked aghast and argued, “You must learn to love it then, because it will be the most important thing you do as queen.”

“I hope that’s not true.”

“The delicate balance of maintaining power by managing the nobles– do you think Seokjin will do that?!” Zselyke screeched at her.

“He’s… charming, isn’t it?” Nasimiyu tried. She had not expected this cousin to shout at her and it caught her off-guard.

“Charming my left foot!” In her anger, she yanked up the teapot and refilled Nasimiyu’s empty cup and seemed to have forgotten Nasimiyu didn’t like sugar because she spooned some right in as she continued to berate, “Do you mean to say you won’t learn these skills and plan to let the social structure of the palace just die? The nobles here expect a certain schedule of entertainment! When important guests arrive from other places, they must be tended to! They–”

“It’s not that I don’t recognize how important it is,” Nasimiyu assured her, lifting her cup. Her own mother had certainly never yelled like this and she didn’t know what to do about it. It ought to fill her with rage but she was genuinely just stupefied. “I just don’t…”

“Like it?!

“Well no, not the planning part. I don’t have any talent for it and you do. Do you like doing it?”

“It is one of the most sacred tasks I’ve had since coming to the palace after the late Queen passed. Her taste in decor may have been questionable but she threw marvelous parties and I knew I needed to carefully maintain that so that her death wouldn’t pitch the nobility and thus the country into absolute chaos.”

“Well if you like it and you’re good at it, why don’t you keep doing it?”

Lady Zselyke’s brow knitted as she explained, “Because I will not be here.”

“Why not?” Nasimiyu set the tea cup down without sipping it, intending to ask for a new one without sugar.

“Because… because you will be queen and not want an older woman here interfering with your work…” Lady Zselyke had stopped yelling and suddenly looked uncertain. “You did not know I would be sent away?”

“Who would send you away? Not I.” Nasimiyu did her best to look sincere about it. Honestly she had no love for this stuffy older woman but it hadn’t occurred to her that Zselyke would be gone. She saw at once how dismal it would be to take on the things Zselyke already managed. Dreary enough that enduring her was likely worth it. Besides, she managed Dong-gun and Seokjin to a degree, and even Dong-suk. She knew a great deal. Maybe it was at least worth keeping her around until they were gone. Nasimiyu couldn’t see Zselyke supporting her as queen if the Kim men were dead, and she might not want that, but… she might. Zselyke might do it, if she didn’t think Nasimiyu had any hands in the deaths. Regardless of her personal feelings about Zselyke, she knew things, she seemed actually quite good at what she did. That could be useful.

Lady Zselyke was watching her with unmasked confusion now and clarified, “You would not make me leave? Queen Soon-hee did the moment she married Dong-gun.”

“Why?”

“Well, that… that’s not something I can know…” she instantly fumbled out, clearly hiding some truth or at least suspicion. “It’s tradition, though. A queen mother will be sent to retire in Sartia and I am almost like a queen mother.” As soon as she said it, she looked like she regretted it.

Nasimiyu grinned. She felt like she had just found a very pretty knife.

“I think you are too,” she agreed. “In a good way. I can’t imagine running this palace without you, it never occurred to me I would need to. I don’t want to. I refuse.”

Zselyke’s light skin turned a fascinating shade of pink, like she’d sat in the sun too long.

“Oh! But…”

“Maybe if the King retires at some point to someplace nice like Sartia, you would want to go with him, but I expect he will remain on the throne for a long time even once Seokjin and I marry.”

“Yes, you won’t be queen but you’ll be the crown princess which is the same thing in the absence of a queen,” Zselyke countered.

“I don’t think tradition should dictate what we do when it’s not… convenient. I don’t see why you should be sent away or robbed of the duties you enjoy just because I’m here.” She mindlessly picked up the teacup again. “I can easily see a world where you maintain your status here and oversee the things you care so much about and are recognized and appreciated for it, which frees me up to attend to the things I care about –like supporting Seokjin, for instance. Raising his children.” She suspected Zselyke would struggle to accept an ambitious political princess just yet.

“He does need a great deal of support,” Lady Zselyke said slowly. “The kingly duties don’t come naturally to him…”

Nasimiyu smiled and nodded, agreeing, “He can learn with a wife nudging him along, and King Dong-gun can rest easier seeing his son take his future role more seriously.”

“Two women have never run the palace together before,” Zselyke said. Her words seemed to be poking at Nasimiyu, trying to find a lie or a threat.

“Women in Marvono know how to work together and rely on each other. I very much want to rely on you, Lady Zselyke. I wouldn’t dream of replacing you. Your balls would be a crucial loss to Priva!”

“I…” Lady Zselyke blinked rapidly at her, heavily stained eyelashes leaving residue on the tops of her cheeks. Clearly none of this had occurred to her.

“Together we can keep the Kim line respectable and strong, don’t you think?” Nasimiyu suggested as her finishing move. She lifted her tea cup to take a dramatic sip.

“Oh dear!” Lady Zselyke gasped, lunging forward. “You don’t like sugar! I put sugar in there! Let me trade that for you.” She wrenched the cup out of Nasimiyu’s hand in the blink of an eye and set it hastily on another saucer. “I think eventually you will need to take over these things from me… but maybe not… and in the meantime you can learn from me. It doesn’t seem you’ve been trained in any of these types of things. Things must be done very differently in Marvono…” She sloshed a little tea out of the cup in her haste to pour Nasimiyu a new one.

The door flung open before Nasimiyu could respond and in strode Mindeulle. Nasimiyu did not miss the way Lady Zselyke’s face hardened, despite Mindeulle’s bright smile and polite curtsy.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, but I’ve been looking for the Princess. Might I have a word?”

“Why don’t you join us?” Lady Zselyke offered instead. “We need to discuss wedding plans and then you can have her.”

“It will only take me a moment.”

“It can wait, I’m sure. Have a seat.” There was an edge to Lady Zselyke’s words that got Mindeulle to promptly do so. “Sugar?”

“No thank you,” Mindeulle muttered as Lady Zselyke poured her a cup. Servants fluttered in at a snap of her finger to refill the pot, which was getting low. Flowers and leaves danced inside the glass pot, briefly mesmerizing Nasimiyu.

“We are discussing Nasimiyu’s elaborate wedding party and what will best capture the deep love she and Seokjin share.”

Do we? was on the tip of Nasimiyu’s tongue. She didn’t say it, but Mindeulle gave her an amused smile as if she had, which gave her a start.

“I’m sure it’s going to be beautiful,” Mindeulle said.

“The wedding of a century,” Zselyke agreed. Nasimiyu did not understand why Zselyke sounded so defensive about it, unless this was just her enthusiasm about remaining here as a royal party planner showing through. “Seokjin has told me to spare no expense, he wants the world to understand how deep his love and devotion to his bride are.”

“That’s lovely,” Mindeulle said.

“It is,” Zselyke agreed.

The fact they hated each other seemed very obvious to Nasimiyu and now it was her turn to smile. If they both remained in the palace with her after she married, that would be perfect. The two of them hating each other would make them eager to be her most trusted and relied upon, and she could trust they would never join forces to work against her.

It amused her to watch them politely bicker as more details of the party were discussed; Mindeulle seemed just as eager for it to be perfect and her own suggestions seemed to rile Lady Zselyke into even grander plans. Nasimiyu would have been happy to eat her olive and thyme biscuits and let them have at it and giggle through whatever resulting wedding party they planned but the door opened again and in came Lidmila.

“It’s a regular party isn’t it? I didn’t plan for this,” Lady Zselyke murmured as Lidmila curtsied and sat in the final chair at the table without being asked.

“I apologize for my unexpected arrival. My parents are here but I wanted to find the Princess for company instead. Is it all right if I join?”

“Yes yes of course. What business do your parents have here?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. Something with the tax collector or the city planner?”

“That seems like business for your father, not your mother,” Lady Zselyke said.

“Sometimes my mother helps with those things, I think…”

Lady Zselyke shook her head at this and sighed, “It’s quite a business, being a wife.”

“Have you never regretted not marrying?” Mindeulle asked, a twinkle coming to her eye that hooked Nasimiyu’s attention.

“Heavens, no! Of course it’s a high calling to be a wife, however…” Lady Zselyke looked embarrassed by her answer and like she wasn’t sure how to respond. “I’m sure you will all make good little wives. My hands are quite full supporting the King.”

Honestly, did she hear herself? Probably Dulce could find out in an instant what the real relationship was there but Nasimiyu was not sure she wanted to know.

“But what will you do once Nasimiyu is queen?” Mindeulle asked. “You won’t be needed here anymore.”

“Actually I’ve asked Lady Zselyke to stay and support just the way she does now,” Nasimiyu quickly interjected.

Lady Zselyke gave Mindeulle a smirk and agreed, “Of course I have accepted. Nasimiyu recognizes the value of this work and her own untrained skill for it so it will be an honor.” She dumped a spoonful of sugar in Mindeulle’s drink and poured more black for Nasimiyu. Lidmila had not yet touched the cup on her saucer, Nasimiyu’s discarded sugared tea from earlier, now gone cold.

“Oh, I don’t like sugar in my tea,” Mindeulle said. “May I have a different glass?”

“Dear, I forgot. Well it’s only a little bit of sugar,” Lady Zselyke dismissed.

“I’m sure we can get a new tea cup,” Nasimiyu laughed.

“I don’t mind sugar and I didn’t add any to mine. Why don’t we trade, Mindeulle? It’s a little cold though,” Lidmila suggested, passing hers across the table.

“Don’t be silly, that’s a perfect way to get sick.” Zselyke tutted and blocked the pass with her hand, nudging both cups back towards their original owners. Nasimiyu could not make sense of such crazy behavior but thought it was rather funny. Lidmila and Mindeulle seemed briefly mystified and set their cups back in their sauces.

“I’m not very thirsty. I’ll have a cookie instead,” Mindeulle decided. She nudged her tea setting closer to Lady Zselyke to make room for a plate, helping herself to several different pastries from the trays in the center.

“I’ve had enough tea and I can assure you I’m not ill,” Nasimiyu offered, pushing her cup closer to Mindeulle. “I’ve taken no sugar so you can have my cup.”

“Oh, there’s sugar in mine after all,” Lidmila realized, looking into her cup.

“Have you tasted it?” Lady Zselyke asked her, her voice rising so abruptly in pitch it startled them all. She pounded her chest and couch delicately into a napkin. “Did you like the tea? How much did you try?”

“I haven’t yet. Is it very special? Is it better to taste it without sugar then?” Lidmila considered.

Lady Zselyke nodded and reached for the cup, insisting, “Yes, you’ll like it better without. That’s the Princess’ old cup. We’ll get you a fresh cup.”

“I do like sugar and sweet things though, is it bitter? I don’t mind that it’s cold for a first taste so it won’t burn my tongue.”

“Try it without,” Lady Zselyke insisted, snatching the tea cup away from her. She went to set it on her own saucer but paused, hand hovering over hers and Mindeulle’s cups now right next to each other.

Nasimiyu laughed, “It’s like a game. I’m not sure which is yours anymore, they’re all mixed up. It doesn’t matter though does it? I’m sure we’re all healthy here and close companions can share a tea cup.” She hoped it would encourage a sort of bond between the group to begin forming. Lady Zselyke was older but not old. It would be good to have some close companions who weren’t all younger than herself. She could learn to like Zselyke, probably.

“Oh nonsense, we don’t have to go so far as trading tea cups,” Zselyke immediately intervened. “We need another setting!” she called to the servants with a clap of her hands. “Take these three away,” she commanded. “And bring a fresh bowl of sugar, Miss Lidmila likes her tea sweet.”

Lidmila giggled and pointed to the full sugar bowl, insisting, “I don’t need more than that in my tea!”

“If you like sweet things, I think raw sugar will taste better than this refined stuff,” Lady Zselyke told her. “Minor details matter. A subtle change can have a great impact, it’s an important lesson for young ladies.”

“My brother says the same thing,” Mindeulle chirped.

Lady Zselyke looked down her nose at Mindeulle and insisted, “I don’t think we need to talk about your brother’s words to young ladies. There is more to discuss than men.”

Nasimiyu reached out to grab Mindeulle’s hand, fully expecting her to launch from the table. She did not, just stared at Zselyke so blankly that it felt menacing.

“Like Nasimiyu’s wedding! Oh, but that’s to a man…” Lidmila mused with a thoughtful frown. It was endearing. Nasimiyu found herself chuckling under her breath. Honestly she would have expected to find someone with Lidmila’s innocence obnoxious, but it was actually refreshing to be around someone so sincere and good-intentioned. Nasimiyu wasn’t used to those sorts of people. Lidmila might be one of the only truly good people she had ever met. Simple, but good.

Mindeulle must be on that list too, though the sharpness of her mind as she gradually revealed it made her seem less doe-eyed about the world. She too had that air of enthusiasm as she pressed Lady Zselyke on what else she was thinking of for Nasimiyu’s wedding, and if she intended to plan the honeymoon too. There was an edge to her Nasimiyu liked a lot.

“What do you mean by that? Of course I will, if you’d like me to, Nasimiyu darling.”

“You suggested Sartia before–”

“But you don’t like the sea, so… hm, I will think on it,” Zselyke said.

“You don’t like the sea?” Mindeulle and Lidmila both parroted.

“It’s all right. Maybe I should take Seokjin to Marvono instead…”

“Maybe you’d like Therepin more,” Mindeulle suggested. “It has the elegance and beauty and splendor of Sartia, but no seas.”

Zselyke looked repulsed and gasped, “Therepin is no place for a honeymoon!”

“Why, because you don’t like the government there? I’ve never honeymooned but I don’t think government is very involved…” Mindeulle tittered. Lidmila’s face opened up in surprised laughter and Zselyke seemed angry. “None of us have honeymooned, maybe we should ask someone else to plan it.”

“I am quite capable!” Zselyke scowled. “Less taunting me and more eating, girls, it’s important to keep our strength up until supper.”

“But our figures…” Lidmila pointed out.

Zselyke gave her a gentle smile and assured her, “You have nothing to worry about. And Therepin adheres to no such beauty standards, so Mindeulle’s prospects won’t be upset by some extra padding.”

“Not that I care about my weight, but why would I look for a husband in Therepin?” Mindeulle countered.

Nasimiyu ate her cookies and felt like this was all rather a lot of fun, watching the back and forth. Dulce would hate this, but she found it amusing.

“I suppose your brother and parents will, regardless.”

“They take into account my wishes. They’ll let me choose the partner I want.”

“Will they?” Zselyke pressed and it seemed so pointed, Nasimiyu could tell she must know something and be taunting Mindeulle with it. She wanted to know too –not to taunt, but just to know.

“What does that mean?” Nasimiyu intervened as Mindeulle looked troubled. “Do you have a personal tragedy, Mindeulle? You don’t need to say at the table but if you’d like to talk in private– if there’s anything I can do to aid you–”

Mindeulle pressed a hand to her flushed cheek and insisted, “No, Princess, there’s nothing. Lady Zselyke only speaks in riddles to make it sound like she knows more than she does.”

“Didn’t you come here to find a husband? To Priva, I mean?” Lidmila suggested, perhaps in an attempt to help. “There are so many men here who I’m sure would be honored by your attention.”

“I came with my brother,” Mindeulle said simply, even though Nasimiyu vaguely thought she’d heard Mindeulle mention before she wanted to marry here and remain. Hadn’t that been a hope she had for the ball? She couldn’t recall clearly now.

“Well you certainly aren’t going to find a husband spending all your time with your brother and Seokjin,” Lady Zselyke scoffed. “They are related and taken. I suspect your parents will call you home soon for a match.”

“Not if I don’t wish to marry,” Mindeulle countered. “You have never married, Lady Zselyke, and you spoke moments ago about it as a burden. Surely you had your reasons?”

Lady Zselyke filled their tea cups and said airly, “I did. There are many types of love which are worthy of a life’s devotion. Your devotion to the prince is admirable but inappropriate now that he will have a wife.”

“I–!” Mindeulle gasped. She looked quickly to Nasimiyu and insisted, “It’s not that, I promise. He is like a brother to me!”

“I know that,” Nasimiyu assured her. For all she knew, Mindeulle did have a crush on Seokjin, but it failed to trigger any jealousy in Nasimiyu. There didn’t seem to be anything adult about it if it was there, more like childish admiration. She hadn’t witnessed a single ambitious attempt, nor did Seokjin act any way towards her but brotherly. “I’m sure Lady Zselyke didn’t mean to be a gossip,” Nasimiyu admonished, arching her eyebrow at the older woman smirking to herself as she served Mindeulle more tea.

“Oh yes, I meant nothing by it, except that with men, you can never be too careful. You will have to curb your closeness with him so that it doesn’t cause… problems,” Zselyke scolded as she dumped a heaping spoonful of sugar thoughtlessly into Mindeulle’s tea. “I’m sorry I ruffled your feathers. Have some tea and settle down about it, have another pastry.”

“You’ve put sugar in it again,” Nasimiyu said, deftly reaching for Mindeulle’s tea cup and handing over her own. “Mine has none, we can trade.”

“You don’t like sweet things,” Mindeulle said. Nasimiyu found herself surprised each time the people around her knew things about her she had not explicitly told them. It made her feel very special and admired and flattered her into insisting,

“It’s not a hard rule. My lips are plenty puckered by now, some sweet on my tongue may be a relief.”

“No, the tea is much better without that refined stuff–” Lady Zselyke said, rising from her seat and reaching for Nasimiyu’s cup.

Lidmila suddenly kicked the table hard and cried out, “Ah! My ankle got caught in my skirt and I’ve hit my shin…”

The flurry of commotion was all startling enough that Nasimiyu put her cup down, laughing, “Is there alcohol in the tea? Why is everyone so clumsy suddenly?”

“There is certainly nothing like that in the tea,” Zselyke sniffed. “But if you tire of it, I can bring coffee or wine or juice or–”

“Nothing else, thank you,” Nasimiyu dismissed.

“She’s right that the raw sugar is better though,” Lidmila said, still rubbing her leg beneath the table as she lifted her saucer and passed it over. “Let’s trade.”

“I really don’t mind.”

“You are going to be queen, Nasimiyu, you should let those around you take care of simple things,” Mindeulle insisted. So Nasimiyu was shamed into trading teacups with Lidmila, who looked adorably proud to have made the swap and settled herself with the apparently less-desirable white sugared tea.

However before she could even have a sip, Lady Zselyke reached for a pastry but her dragging sleeve managed to upset the whole sugar bowl and Lidmila’s tea cup.

“Oh goodness,” Zselyke gasped. “I’ve made a mess of my own tea…” She gave Nasimiyu the kindest smile of their acquaintance so far and laughed, “Maybe the tea did get us all a little drunk! It’s only flowers in there… maybe it’s the talk of weddings going to our heads!”

The table was soaked now though, they’d all logged themselves with unsweetened tea, and the pastries were going stale. Nasimiyu thought everyone seemed relieved when she suggested tea come to a close for now, and promised to meet with Zselyke again the next day to resume their wedding chat, and suggested Lidmila take a turn with her in the garden, and Mindeulle too if she wished.

“I would love to, but I really only need to ask you a question and then return a letter to my parents,” Mindeulle said as the three women left Zselyke’s parlor.

“That’s right, you said you needed to speak with me.”

“Yes… privately, if that’s all right? It’s about… some private business,” she murmured, glancing at Lidmila. “I hope you understand.”

“Of course. Why don’t I meet you in the garden, Princess? Have your servant bring a parasol though, it looks like it might rain.”

“Don’t you need one too then?”

“Oh… maybe I can share yours? I didn’t bring one…”

“I’m sure we can,” Nasimiyu said, or else she would bring another, or they could find someplace else to walk, it really wasn’t a big deal. Lidmila seemed content with this plan and flitted off, hopefully not to wander out into the rain before Nasimiyu arrived. She was sweet but perhaps not the brightest.

Mindeulle insisted on leading Nasimiyu into a room with a closed door before she admitted, “I’m sorry if I seem so cryptic, but I’m looking into this mystery with my brother and Çiğdem.”

Nasimiyu instantly cringed and suggested gently, “Does your brother know? He may not want you poking into his personal affairs…”

“So you think he did it then?” Mindeulle caught.

“I don’t know but…” Nasimiyu thought of Namjoon fucking Dulce at the masquerade ball. “I don’t know him well enough to say anything regarding his relationships with women but I think we can all move on.”

“We can’t move on. You saw how Lady Zselyke treated me at tea, and she’s not the only one.”

“You think it was because of that? I suppose that comment was rather… barbed.”

“Lady Zselyke already dislikes me and Namjoon because of the trouble with the Prince’s former fiance… but he has you now, that can be behind us. But this… this wasn’t him either, I’m sure of it! And now the families here want even less to do with us because they think my brother has a habit of leading women on, which he most definitely does not! He’s been framed both times and I intend to figure out who’s doing it.”

“I think you should let it go,” Nasimiyu admitted.

“But we’re being ostracized.”

“Does he care about something like that?”

“No, but… but I do. If society here shuns me I’ll have to go back to Therepin. I want to stay here.”

“I’ll protect you and your reputation, it doesn’t need to be tied to your brother’s.”

“You don’t believe me and won’t help me,” Mindeulle frowned, taking a step away.

“I didn’t say that, I just think…”

“Çiğdem’s family are not kind people. They aren’t the sort of people I want as family enemies. They are going to make you choose and if I can’t prove my brother is innocent, you’ll have to choose them.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“There are politics here you don’t understand yet,” Mindeulle said. When Nasimiyu shifted unhappily, Mindeulle hurried to add, “Only because you are new here and you aren’t used to these families. They are sensitive and vengeful. The only reason they haven’t outright attacked us yet is because it means admitting Çiğdem was writing letters to a man, so they’re trying to figure out something else to pin on us.”

“I’m not interested in their petty accusations–”

“But if you anger them, they will interfere with your marriage,” Mindeulle insisted. “They’re powerful enough to do it.” Mindeulle paused and seemed to think about what she said, then shook her head to clear it. “I need to clear my brother’s name. Please let me at least try.”

Nasimiyu sighed and conceded only, “What help are you asking from me?”

“I need the letters from Çiğdem. So I can compare to my brother’s handwriting and language and prove they aren’t his.” Nasimiyu had to admit that was a good plan.

“What makes you think she still has them?”

Mindeulle looked stunned and nearly laughed, “Why wouldn’t she? Don’t you keep every letter anyone has ever written you?”

“No one has ever written me letters,” Nasimiyu admitted. “Is that strange?”

Mindeulle seemed to think it was very sad.

“Well… I believe she has them,” Mindeulle insisted. “I bet even though she’s angry, she still has them. She might give them to you if you ask.”

“I’m not that close with her.”

“Or if you ask Lidmila to ask for them, even better.”

“I don’t know…

“But Lidmila will do anything you say, she worships the ground you walk on.”

Nasimiyu had to admit that seemed true. So in the end, she agreed to try.

And as Mindeulle predicted, when Nasimiyu brought the subject up of investigating things herself with Lidmila as they strolled through the warm summer rain under a shared parasol, Lidmila readily vowed to try, too –no, to succeed! It wouldn’t be easy but she would convince Çiğdem to let them see the letters under the guise of Nasimiyu wanting to understand Namjoon’s sins for herself. Lidmila admitted Çiğdem seemed to be having a hard time letting go of it all and probably would be eager to share.

All the moving of social chess pieces left Nasimiyu exhausted by the time Lidmila left with her parents and Nasimiyu could finally flee to solitude. She tossed the parasol to the ground and slipped off her damp shoes as soon as she was through the door. She’d take a bath to get that humid sea-city slime off her skin, she decided, and called for the maids to draw the bath.

As she moved around her room undressing, trying not to notice how quiet it seemed in here lately without Dulce emerging from the shadows to slide into the bed or bath with her, she began to notice things. Little things, small things that someone without her eye for detail might not: her gowns twisted in the wardrobe in a way she nor the maids would ever leave them; her shoes lined up too perfectly when she only ever lazily kicked them off; the papers on the wrong side of the desk from where Dulce had sat writing a coded message to send to Prince Hamisi (Nasimiyu sure hadn’t touched them since then), obvious because Dulce was left handed and scratched things out hunched over the right corner of the desk like someone who’d barely learned to hold a pen.

Had someone been here?

She didn’t like that feeling. It didn’t just scare her, it angered her, this idea that someone had come into her room –somehow, despite the guards posted outside. She looked around herself, trying to determine what someone had been looking for, what they might have found, though there weren’t secret things to find. The letters from her mother were nothing but that, nothing notable in them. She didn’t think any of her jewelry was missing, at least none of her favorites. What else would they have taken?

“Did you girls clean in here today?” she asked as she shed her clothing for a bath. The two maids looked at each other, uncertain how to answer. “If someone did, they didn’t do a very good job. My gowns are tangled up in the wardrobe.”

“We’re sorry, Princess,” they quickly said. “We’ll fix it right away.”

Well, mystery solved then. Nasimiyu sank into the bath and washed it all away.

The palace was stifling.

Seokjin had almost killed a man.

Taehyung had almost been killed too.

He had to get out of here. Hiding in his room with the comfort of his fur babies wasn’t enough, but Jungkook wasn’t on duty so Seokjin couldn’t pull off his disguised anonymous jaunt into the city. It would be too much for him right now anyway. He needed to be alone but not alone… he didn’t have a solution for that.

Muhtar followed him at a bothersome distance, not quite far enough, as he set out for the sea wall. The sun was setting, drawing some touristy crowds to admire the vibrant hues brushed across the cloudy sky, but for the most part the people of Priva did not find a regular sunset anything remarkable. They saw this every day. They had other things to do.

Seokjin, however, still found it remarkable. He hoped the day never came that he forgot about the miracle of a sunset, how the air itself became orange and red and that honey warmth seeped into your skin. He paused once a respectable distance from the palace to take it in.

And then saw her.

He should keep walking, he knew immediately. He had no reason to approach. She sat there, legs dangling recklessly over the edge, face cast towards the sun and a hood on so that he shouldn’t have even recognized her. He could not have explained how he did. And he’d been avoiding her for days now! Muhtar was with him; he didn’t trust any of his bodyguards to keep his secrets the way he trusted Jungkook, and sitting to enjoy the sunset with the maid of his fiance was one of those things that deserved to be a secret. The last time he’d seen her, he was fucking said fiance. The last time he’d spoken to her, she’d been furious.

He should keep walking.

He fully intended to keep walking.

He eased himself down on the ledge beside her, careful not to lose his step and plummet to his death because that would just really be the icing on this shit-cake day.

She didn’t even glance at him, as if not surprised at all. Maybe she’d somehow sensed him standing behind him. She so rarely seemed surprised by anything.

She had looked surprised when she walked in on him and Nasimiyu.

“About what you saw…”

“I didn’t see anything,” she said, voice a low murmur weaving through the aggressive crash of waves against the rocks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

So it would be like that. Yes, that was for the best.

“I only see the sunset,” she told him.

“It’s a good one.”

They sat in silence for a while. Gradually Seokjin’s mortification settled into a dull hum in the back of his mind, beat away by the waves. That experience seemed fake. Nasimiyu seemed fake, his engagement seemed fake. Certainly less real than the hues streaking the wispy clouds dawdling over their heads.

“What’s your favorite color in the sunset?” he asked. She didn’t look at him, but he could see enough of her profile to watch her brow pinch.

Why, why was he so desperate to reach out and smooth it down?! She was just some woman. It didn’t make sense. He barely knew her at all, as she had made crystal clear. Why was it so easy to think of a thousand things he wanted to say to her, and equally easy, for once in his life, to say none of them and simply sit there watching the sunset?

“Pink,” she finally said. He’d forgotten the question and gave her a confused look. “I don’t seem like the kind of woman who likes pink?”

“I like that it makes my hair look pink,” he told her. “I think I’d look really good with pink hair.”

“Your hair doesn’t look pink.”

“A little bit.”

“Not at all,” she insisted, so seriously as she looked at it that he couldn’t help the laughter.

It died quickly as he noticed the bruise on her cheek, the bandage on the side of her neck.

“What happened to you?” he asked, quickly turning towards her, reaching only to hover because he had no right to touch her.

“Hm?”

“You’re injured!”

“Oh. Accident in the laundry room,” she said, lifting a hand to her cheek like she’d forgotten all about it. He thought he saw the shadow of another bruise on her jaw and resisted the urge to turn her face and confirm.

“What the hells happened in the laundry room?!”

“Everything is fine. How was the hunting trip?”

He didn’t answer, torn now between the dread of what had already happened and a desire to not be shaken off from her injuries. He wasn’t sure she was telling him the truth. He hadn’t heard of an accident in the laundry that had caused serious harm to a maid. If there were safety issues, they needed to be taken care of immediately!

“What happened in the laundry room?” he tried again.

“How was the hunting trip?”

He narrowed his eyes. She stared a moment, then turned her gaze out at the sunset in a way that made clear she would not be answering his question.

“You know,” he shrugged. “It was… unpleasant. It’s good you didn’t go along today.”

“Might have been better than the laundry room.”

“No.” He thought of Dulce witnessing what had happened. Or, worse, Dulce being involved with what had happened. He didn’t say anything more, uncomfortable with imagining it. A horrible thought came to him, of his uncle somehow figuring out that Dulce was… notable to him. She’d be in grave danger, he was sure of it. A princess had some protection from a sadistic uncle-in-law. A maid had none. He glanced back at Murtah, worried his own bodyguard might report this to his uncle. Could anyone be trusted? Murtah was older, kind, formal, serious. He looked up and down the seawall, always on alert.

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go hunting down there,” Dulce said, a rush of words he hadn’t expected. He raised his eyebrows at her unexpected concern. “It’s too easy for an accident to happen. It feels like it was designed for accidents.”

“Nowhere is safe from accidents. Apparently not even laundry rooms.”

“Your joke makes it clear you’ve never been in one,” she muttered.

He had to admit, “No. Are they dangerous?”

“Yes. But a hunting party in the caves is particularly dangerous for you, I think. You’re the crown prince. You’re never safe.”

“I have a bodyguard,” he said, jerking his head towards Murtah.

“He doesn’t look very good.”

“He is.”

“He’s not even listening to our conversation to know I insulted him.”

“He’s discreet,” Seokjin argued. “He’s like you, he’s not reactive.” Dulce scrutinized the bodyguard like a duel partner, then looked back out at the water. The wind tangled in loose strands of her long hair and danced it around her face. He wondered how wild it would look if she let the hood down and her braid out. It seemed to want to curl around her neck; a perfect ringlet had formed and he had that intrusive urge to reach out and tug it. The hood made her look particularly beautiful.

Brooding. He’d meant she looked particularly brooding.

He felt so calm right now. It was strange, he’d come out here hoping to feel that way but not expecting too. The nervous energy that had kept him restless all day got washed out to sea with each tug of the tide below. It was almost embarrassing for Dulce to see him all calm. He had an image to uphold, after all. Funny, energetic, charming.

He was tired.

“Have you ever been fishing? What’s your favorite fish?” he asked, deciding to make an effort.

“Are you ever just silent– nevermind,” she said quickly. Then, “My apologies, sorry.” He wasn’t sure that she’d ever apologized for being blunt before and was surprised to see her cheeks darken with a flush.

“What?” he laughed. “Say what you were going to say. Am I ever just silent? Not really, even when I’m alone I talk to myself.” Her lips tightened. “What does that face mean?” he laughed.

“It’s just my face.”

“No it’s not. Are you… blushing? About what?”

“I am not,” she snapped, scowling at him, and in any other lifetime he would have grabbed and kissed her right then. He couldn’t explain it. She was so put out with him.

You want to kiss her. You need to get and stay away from her. He knew that was true. He understood this clearly in a way he had danced around for days now. Weeks? He didn’t know how long but he knew he wanted to kiss the bruise on her cheek and the one on her jaw and her fingers and that this feeling of his would get her fired at best. He couldn’t think of the worst.

“You’re quiet when you fuck, that’s what I meant,” she suddenly said, tearing her gaze away from his and crossing her arms. “Maybe that’s the only time.”

“I thought you didn’t see anything,” he cried, now his turn to blush a bright red. Here he was contemplating the tragedy of this woman bringing out the romantic in him when nothing could ever come of it and then she had to wallop him in the face like that.

“I didn’t hear anything either, that’s my point.”

Now silence enveloped them again, a less happy one. Seokjin didn’t know what to say. The thought of having sex with Nasimiyu made him want to run away screaming. Not a great foundation for a marriage but one he was going to have to work through, just like he was going to have to keep distance from Dulce, and neither thing seemed possible right now.

No, he could do it. He would. He was the crown prince, he did tons of things he didn’t want to simply because it was his duty.

He wanted more than a duty marriage with Nasimiyu.

He needed to squash these feelings about Dulce immediately.

“I didn’t mean to criticize,” she murmured, glancing nervously at him. Probably because he was staring. She had a very pretty profile. He bet she would hate it if someone pinched her chin but it was perfectly pinchable. “Nasimiyu speaks… highly of your time together.”

He grabbed for the lifeline she’d thrown him and laughed awkwardly loudly, “Oh, lovely. She speaks of it?”

“Brags, more like.”

He knew he should be flattered. A small part of him was.

“Yes, well, good. What can I say? I have many talents and pleasing women is one of them.” Dear gods what was he saying?

“I don’t need to hear that. When I said you don’t know me, I didn’t mean we should get to know each other,” she said.

He laughed, flat out laughed, “Dulce, why are you so mean?”

“I… sorry. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah for me too but I’m still my pleasant charming self. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had. I almost watched my father kill another of my friends. It was the shittiest hunting trip you can imagine.”

“Did you shoot anything?”

“I almost killed another of my friends, does that count?”

“Taehyung?”

“No… what made you think of him?” She shrugged. “No, Master Drin, my arms masters. His horse reared and threw him in the path of bullet right as I aimed at some mysterious creature in the woods that didn’t deserve to be shot at in the first place. Sliced the back of his head open but he lives.” The words poured out, a tirade meant to make her laugh even though it wasn’t funny and he didn’t even mean it to be funny. His laugh cracked as he repeated, “I almost killed someone today.”

“People die.”

“Come now.”

“People die in hunting accidents all the time,” she said again. “That’s what I meant by you shouldn’t go.”

He grinned and nudged her arm without thinking about it, teasing, “Are you worried about me?” She stiffened and he immediately leaned away. Oops.

She didn’t comment on the physical contact, just asked, “Have you never killed anything before?”

“I’ve shot ducks.”

“A dark stain on your soul.”

“I see their eyes every night before I sleep,” he joked. “I remember their names.”

“I don’t,” she said thoughtfully.

“Killed a lot of ducks, have you?”

“A few.” She said it so seriously, he couldn’t decide if she was joking or not. That made things she said even funnier, when he genuinely couldn’t tell. He had an inkling she did it on purpose. He wondered if Nasimiyu knew that about her.

“We’re still talking about ducks, aren’t we?” he teased.

“What would we be talking about?”

“Didn’t you grow up on a farm? I don’t think I have the guts for it.”

“I didn’t tell you that,” Dulce said sharply and Seokjin felt a ridiculous victory at very clearly having guessed something correctly about her. “I seem like a farm girl to you?”

“Is there anything besides farms in Paloma?” Her eyebrows raised and he snickered, “Oh no, did I just insult you?”

“You don’t know anything about Paloma.”

“No but I know you grew up on a farm.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your reaction gave it away.”

“I don’t react,” she insisted and he felt laughter bubbling brighter in his chest. He had the playful childish urge to knock her over and wrestle now, to crow about his victory.

“You’re wrong. You have very big reactions, if you know what to look for.”

“I do not.”

“The more you deny it…”

Her face twisted in what seemed like a fake rage. She kept her mouth pressed tightly closed and stared at the sky now sliding to purples and blues. What she said earlier might seem right, that darker colors suited her style more, but he loved knowing now that she liked pink.

“I hate farms,” she said, possibly the closest to a confirmation he would ever get. He didn’t think it was a joke. There was an air of sadness to her voice that seemed shockingly sincere.

Or was he projecting it all? He realized that was possible. He might be sitting here feeling like their hearts were stitching together in a way that was going to hurt very much when he stood up, and she was sitting there thinking what a nuisance he was. It wasn’t like she said or did anything that hinted at feelings for him. She endured him. Humored him at best. She had no choice. The power imbalance was real and he’d be a fool not to remember that his company might be less welcome than Namjoon’s –which she may have loudly hinted at before.

He stared out at the water, debating. He should leave her alone. He knew that. Everything in him knew that. But he didn’t want to just yet… could she endure him for a few more minutes? That was the least guilt and horror he had felt all day. He had almost killed Drin.

“You didn’t kill him.”

“Wha?”

“You didn’t kill the man so you shouldn’t let it haunt you. Even if you had, accidents happen.”

He stared at her, eyes wide, stumbling over the words, “How did you–”

“I won’t reveal my methods.”

He was struck dumb for a moment, astonished at her acuity. Could she read minds? Oh, he’d be so fucked if she could read his mind right now. The threat of her seeing what kind of man he actually was –the kind who developed affection and desire for their fiance’s maid– was horror beyond belief.

Just to test it, he thought of some really crazy things. Six foot tall rabbits and a throne made of spaghetti and a giant fish leaping from the water to swallow them and carry them down to meet the king of the sea. She did not seem to read those thoughts.

“If you don’t want people to know what you’re thinking, don’t think so loud.”

“Don’t listen,” he countered. Which clearly brought her up short. She gave him what could only be characterized as a scandalized look, then stared out again at the sunset as if it was the most compelling thing she had ever seen.

He still felt like she was listening. Worse, he felt like he could talk to her. He felt like she could say anything and nothing would surprise him and she’d tell him her direct thoughts, he could count on it. Alone but not alone, that’s how he felt with her.

“I don’t even want to be the cause of someone’s death,” he admitted, verbalizing it this time.

“You’re going to be king. You’ll be the cause of many people’s deaths.” Yep, just like that.

He blew air out and looked down, for a moment allowing the intrusive thought of what it would feel like to just plummet down to the rocks and die. Then he’d never hurt anyone.

“I’ll be a different kind of king,” he tried to convince them both. “No wars, no hunting, no more hunger or… no poverty. I’ll take care of Destin and Paloma and… we’ll just all have good lives reading books and playing games and…”

At least she was kind enough not to tell him what a fucking idiot he was. She struck a nice balance of silence and directness. He appreciated that about her.

“And birthdays!” he said, suddenly recalling. “Is it your birthday soon?”

“What?”

“Is your birthday soon?”

“No, why?”

“Are you telling the truth?” he pressed, leaning closer and scrutinizing her closely.

She batted him away, revealing bandages on her hand that was quickly tucked back under her cloak despite the warm evening.

“My birthday is in the winter,” she said.

“An answer! Or close to one. Look how far we’ve come,” he teased.

“Why do you think my birthday is soon?”

“Nasimiyu asked Yoongi to make a Paloman dish and he thought your birthday was soon.”

Dulce considered this before admitting, “Maybe she thinks it is.”

“She doesn’t know?”

“Do you know the birthdays of your servants?”

“Yes,” he answered easily. “Murtah’s is in late August and then Jungkook’s is September first.”

Dulce didn’t seem to know what to say to this. He watched the pensive look on her face out of the corner of his eye, trying not to look like he was watching her.

“Are your injuries bothering you?” he guessed.

“No.”

“Are you sure? You were hurt at the palace, it’s understandable you should see the palace doctor to make sure–”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you’re fine. You seem…” He couldn’t think of the word. Not that she was usually chatty but she seemed… “Weighed down.”

“So do you.”

“I think I’m my usual charming self.” When she didn’t respond, like she wasn’t buying it, he conceded, “I told you I almost killed my friend. I feel that on my handsome broad shoulders.”

She was silent for a while. He couldn’t tell if she was debating an answer or simply not going to give one. Which was fine. He would like for her to say but it was always unpredictable.

“I think you need to be extra careful,” she said. “You should be more concerned that your bodyguard went missing.”

Seokjin frowned and pressed, “What do you know about that?”

“You don’t think servants notice when one goes missing? You aren’t careful enough. People wish to harm you.”

“Well… yes. I’m the crown prince. That’s always been true and always will be true,” he admitted. “I’ve learned to live without worrying about it. If I die… well, I’ll be dead and won’t care about it anymore, will I?”

Her head snapped up, her face showing how absolutely incomprehensible she found his answer. It made him laugh again, he couldn’t help it.

“Did you think I’d scream and cry and hide away? I don’t want to die but it happens to all of us eventually. My mother, my brother… it won’t change my fate to sit around worrying about it every day.” He couldn’t believe how brave he sounded about it, although the things he said were true. He tried not to think about death every day. He tried to live as best he could.

“You aren’t afraid to die but you’re afraid to kill?”

“Well see… yes. Yes, that’s about right.” He gave her a bright grin. “I don’t want to, but I can endure a lot. Of course I guess you don’t really endure death, at that point you stop enduring–”

“What is a lot to you?”

“I’m still alive, so I suppose I don’t know yet.” She was taking this so seriously and he felt bad about that. “You don’t need to worry about me. I was born into this life and I’ll die in it too someday. But not today. Some days closer than others but…” He shrugged. “Best I don’t go into the laundry room, I guess.”

She didn’t laugh at his joke and he realized it was a bad one. She’d been badly injured in one. He was inclined to march back to the palace and ask someone working in the laundry what the hells had happened, but based on the last time he intervened in Dulce’s well-being, he suspected she would not be pleased. Did he care? It depended how badly she was hurt…

He sighed, not sure how to navigate anything. He wouldn’t intervene. She’d made clear she didn’t want him to. He was supposed to be putting more space between them now. He had promised to respect her wishes. Soon he was going to promise to love and devote his whole heart to Nasimiyu.

He wanted to say something but the longer the silence lasted, the less inclined he felt to. She didn’t demand anything of him, and he felt tired now by what he’d managed for her entertainment. Wrung out. This was a long day. He didn’t know what to do about his father shooting at Taehyung. Who was that a warning for? It would take a couple days to bundle Taehyung off to somewhere else since they were arguing about where that someplace else would be; was it better to spend those days in the palace or in an anonymous inn? Seokjin was debating having Taehyung just sleep in his room, gossip be damned.

“I have something for you,” she said eventually.

He immediately realized his gift must have felt like an obligation instead of an apology, especially since it wasn’t her birthday.

He waved his hand, “No, no, you don’t need to–”

“Not a gift. Someone gave me a letter to pass on to you.” She dug around and pulled it out of a bag across her body, looked at it a moment, then handed it over.

“What is this?” he asked. The front was blank, the envelope crinkled from passage. The red seal on the back immediately brought recognition and understanding –he’d recognize the imprint of his brother’s ring anywhere.

“A letter.”

“Yes I managed to figure that much out on my own,” he snickered. He had an idea who it was from, so instead he asked, “How did you get this?”

“Someone gave it to me while I was out walking here and begged me to put it in your hands,” she said.

“A woman,” Seokjin guessed.

“Yes.”

“Do you know what it’s about?”

“I didn’t read it,” Dulce said. “She didn’t say.” She looked him right in the face as she said this, direct eye contact that made him want to believe her… and yet he had melted and reattached enough seals to notice the telltale sign of staining on the paper.

“Please keep the existence of this letter between us,” he said lowly, tucking it into the pocket on the inside of his vest so it couldn’t be stolen until he got a chance to read it. After which he would probably need to burn it, depending on what it said, and if he was right about the sender. After all this time, he figured she was dead, in which case this letter might be something different. Either way, it was probably something dangerous for Dulce to know.

“What letter?” she asked, holding her hands out to show they were empty. He believed she would keep the secret, anyway, whatever she could actually glean from the contents. “I thought about not giving it to you, in case it’s trouble,” she admitted.

“I’m glad you did. Not every prince is a damsel who needs protecting, you know.”

“I think you may be a particularly reckless one.”

“How many princes do you know? Nevermind, Prince Hamisi, that was too easy. Well, this prince would be happy to walk you back to the palace now.”

“I’m fine. I’ll stay here a bit longer.”

“Is it safe?”

“It’s no laundry room so…yes.”

He was loath to leave her, but at least guards roamed the sea wall and she was less likely to meet trouble here than anywhere else.

Still, “Will you at least promise to stay out of the laundry room from now on?”

“It’s my job.”

“I can make it illegal for them to put you on laundry duty. I’m a prince. I don’t mind being an eccentric one.” She gave him a baleful look that felt like victory but she shook her head and he wasn’t going to push her. He didn’t want to undo what had felt like progress towards forgiveness.

“Thank you for your company,” he told her with a slight bow. He meant it. The events of the day still troubled him but he felt soothed, despite the fact she hadn’t actually had anything comforting to say –clearly she did not understand the magnitude of what it meant to take, or nearly take, a human life. He was glad of that though.

Murtah shortened the distance between them as they walked back towards the palace so that within a few minutes they were side by side.

“Your Highness.”

“Murtah.”

“This wasn’t wise.”

“I believe you are here to guard, not to advise,” Seokjin pointed out. “I was only watching the sunset.”

“With your fiance’s maid.”

“A coincidence,” Seokjin insisted, then quickly added, “But don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

“It can’t.”

“No, it can’t,” Seokjin agreed with a sigh. He was projecting an attachment on a woman he barely knew. Was he just frightened by his impending promotion to husband and flailing about for diversion?

Her bruises and bandages bothered him more than his own troubles, he couldn’t stop thinking of them.

The safest thing for them both was not to get close enough to notice them next time.

Maybe Taehyung wasn’t the only one he needed to find a safe, cushy place for, far from Priva. How much money would it take Dulce to go away and not tell Nasimiyu why?

Yes, that was the answer. Money. See? Seokjin was already thinking like a king.

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