#taehyun brainrot is back
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okay but hear me out
model!taehyun x personal photographer f!reader
taehyun hires you to be his personal photographer and you have a photoshoot for a concept for his upcoming album. you thought that’s all your position entails until you have to hover over him, him laying on the ground and the wind blows his dress shirt so you see his obliques greeting you and catching you off guard.
though your face is behind the camera, taehyun can see the way you not so subtly bite your bottom lip and you see a smirk playing on his gorgeous face.
his eyes narrows at the lens and he parts his mouth for a more seductive expression, his brows softly scrunched and you curse yourself mentally for thinking this is what he would look like if someone was riding him.
“o-okay, and we’re done. great work today.” you’re flustered, and you failed to hide that. but taehyun was still laying on the ground.
he calls your name before you can walk away, your back still facing him as you squeeze your eyes shut because you feel like you’re about to explode.
“come here.” his voice gruff than usual and you turn to slowly approach him. damn him and that angle, his doe eyes looking right into your soul.
he lifts his arm up and you wonder why this almost 6ft man would need your held to stand up, but you have to remind yourself he is the same man who’ll be paying you after this.
“help me.” he says.
you hold onto his hand, ready to pull him up, but he swiftly tugs on your hand, luring you towards him as his other hand pats the area of his waistband. you step one leg over his torso and he pulls you against him.
“help me here.” he bucks his hips up into your cotton cladded core and you can feel just how hard he is under his denim shorts.
you prevent a squeal jumping out of you by biting your lip again, inhaling sharply at the feeling.
“you think I didn’t see the way you were squeezing your thighs?” his voice had dropped octaves lower than you’ve ever heard from him.
“I-I’m sorry,” you’re flustered again. “that was unprofessional of me.” you hang your head low, refusing eye contact.
taehyun grabs ahold of your hand, guiding your fingers to caress the ridges of his abs while his other hand is on your waist, setting a subtle pace of you grinding against his hard cock beneath the flimsy denim.
“well, sweetheart, I think it’s unprofessional if you don’t help me out, don’t you think?”
your nods are short but rapid. desperate to also please him.
“‘atta girl.”
#I HAD TO ASAP#SOMETHING QUICK OMFG#IM SO#HE’S SO#OH KANG TAEHYUN#IM LITERALLY RUSHING TO GET OUT THE HOUSE RN#taehyun smut#taehyun brainrot is back#taehyun hard hours#taehyun hard thoughts#mdni#smiles hard hours#smiles writes ౨ৎ
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pillow talk
pairing: taehyun x reader
genre: suggestive?? it's nothing explicit but i wouldn't call it fluff either cause it's just a makeout sbdsbshd
summary: more taehyun brainrot (i'm insane.)
warnings: none<3
word count: 0.6k
a/n: here it is, just as promised!!!!😼😼💖 sorry if it seems like i've been spamming lately- i'm gonna go back to uni in less than a week so i'm kinda trying to make the most out of my free time until then sadbahjb cause i don't know how active i'll be after that :( also this is completely off topic but i JUST found out the game burger shop 3 has been released.........it's downloading right as i'm typing this.....guess i might be busy over the next few hours
his hands were all over you- coming from cradling your hips to stroking down the skin of your thighs, gently gripping the muscle as he further immersed himself in the feeling of your lips on his. he couldn’t get enough of it- having you tangled up in his sheets every night, with no other priority on his mind besides losing yourself in your warm embrace.
parting slightly, you lingered with your lips hanging open, still touching against his, yet not returning to closing the space.
“wanna go slow?”
taehyun’s eyes were still closed as he heavily exhaled, answering you.
“don’t be a tease, sweetheart”
but he waited patiently, caressing the curves of your hips, hair already a ruffled mess. your fingertips traced the outline of his lips slowly, in an almost tantalizing manner.
switching to lean in closer, you pressed a peck so quick it could barely be called a kiss before you nibbled on his lower lip, provoking him further with your tongue as you lightly brushed it over his lips, yet not turning to do anything more.
“just kiss me” he groaned, at which you let out a small laugh.
taehyun felt his cheeks go red, it wasn’t usual for him to act with such transparent greed. his desire was beginning to feel insatiable- it was a struggle to contain it.
“you’re too impatient-” you began to mutter, but taehyun reconnected his lips with yours, kissing you right through your words.
that tenderness of yours- it was such sweet agony feeling you touch him so slow, teasing the fiery longing burning within him. who would have thought that a mere two centimeters could be so maddening?
now that he had convinced you to give in again, he cupped your face, holding you close. his lips moved against yours in a slower rhythm than before, taking his time to feel you, to pleasure you, careful so that you wouldn’t pull away again and leave him hot and heavy chasing after you. he turned further into a mess the more you bit his lips, the more your tongue glided past his, the more he felt the heat of your mouth.
out of breath, you pressed your forehead to his for a few moments before moving to graze his jawline with your lips. you dipped your head down to reach his neck, all while your left hand caressed the skin along his nape, switching between lightly scratching with your nails against his scalp, and tugging at his hair.
the more you nipped at his neck, the more he felt himself becoming slightly feverish; low hums and soft praises escaping whenever you took your time biting down a certain spot.
“fuck- do that again” the words escaped in a mellow tone.
“do you like it?” you asked teasingly, pausing your movements.
“don’t stop” he pleaded urgently. it’s not just that he wanted more- he needed more. he needed to feel you closer, to feel the heat from your lips completely coating his body, settling and nibbling on his bare skin.
“keep going, baby” he urged you on.
his chest heaved underneath you, and you could feel his heart thump in expectation. he couldn’t just stay still, his fingers were brushing over the expanse of your back, roaming around your shoulder blades then down your spine, and coming to settle on your waist underneath your shirt. in a mixture of desire and anticipation, he threw his hair back, releasing a soft sigh- no matter how much your lips brushed over his, no matter how many times you explored his body, he could never cease craving more of your touch.
taglist: @huekalover3000
#wave2tyun#txt#txt fluff#txt x reader#txt fic#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt smau#txt headcanons#txt taehyun#taehyun fluff#taehyun scenarios#taehyun fic#taehyun x reader#taehyun imagines#taehyun headcanons
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NSFW MDNI! - drabble
notes: hi another work after 2 years so like sorry i cannot pull a fic out my ass anymore so yall will be having drabbles from me from now on for a long time i think
subby taehyun brainrot.. imagine using his voice to its full potential, aside from high notes?
taehyun was never one to be obedient to you, always the purposefully bratty little shit that never listened to what you said. this time, you got influenced by the fact that he had a voice like ear candy.. and if he wasn't going to listen to you, you were going to listen to him.
by putting that god gifted voice of his to use, obviously.
wrapping your fist around his twitching shaft, fingers that put pressure on his spongy slit, pulling the prettiest broken moan from his lips as lewd sounds escape and fill the atmosphere, loud and obnoxiously wet.
"i think i can milk another out of you, hm?" you tease, your voice tinged with no remorse and taehyun swears under his breath.
"fuck... p-please not again." taehyun's voice shakes.
"need to hear you use that voice for me, that honey voice that forgets how to say anything else but my name."
"what if the neighbors hear—"
"i don't fucking care, taehyun."
your lips capture his in a desperate kiss as he grasps your other hand, guiding your fingers back where he wants them; tracing your fingers against his vulnerable neck. he's spurred on by your dirty words, laced with absolute filth that you mutter into his mouth between every kiss — full of praise that finally manages to tip him over the edge.
he feels a cord inside of him snap and beautiful whines and cries roll off of his tongue.
"y/n—aah, mmmhfff~ f-fuck, cumm—ngh,,"
poor boy, can't even state that he wants to cum because every word is leaving his throat in a cough or stutter. he whines in defeat and overstimulation as strings of his cum spurt out of him. his teeth dig so deep into his bottom lip, turning it the same reddish hue on his cheeks. oh.., and beads of tears that stingily prick at the crinkled corners of his eyes, almost teasing him for the whines that he only barely manages to choke out; but you insist that it's music to your ears.
"so pretty, such a pretty voice. it's too bad that this is what i have to do for you to moan my name, right?" your fingers lightly brush under his chin to lift them up to your face.
"b-begging you, y/n. please,, i swear i'll be as loud as you want. just, n-no more,, no fucking more."
"promise to be obedient and use that voice of yours from today?" you prod at his slit.
"promise.."
#xuri writes#txt smut#taehyun scenarios#taehyun x reader#taehyun smut#taehyun x reader smut#taehyun hard thoughts#taehyun hard hours
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welcome home kiss (k.th)
wc. 1348
genre. smut
tags. fiancé!taehyun x fem!reader, jealousy, car sex, oral (m receiving)
a/n. repost; happy new years eve everyone!! i hope we spend more time together next year <333 i've been in such a taehyun brainrot since dilt visuals dropped so it's only right that my last post of the year be for him and with 30 minutes to spare
more of my work
taehyun glances back at you. you look so beautiful in your sleek black dress. but the scowl that marked your otherwise pretty face, as you sat legs crossed and arms folded while you watched him, not so much.
usually, you loved going to all his work events with him. you would stand attached to his arm as he paraded you around to his colleagues, like his trophy wife. however, today, it seemed like he was punishing you.
to him, in contrast, it seemed like you were the one punishing him. you left home earlier than usual because you just had to go to work. he woke up at his normal time to an empty bed. you didn’t even text or call him all day because you were stressing over a really big and really important project. so much so that you showed up at your shared apartment an hour later than you said you would be home. and you, again, did this without as much as a text message or a phone call. and then you committed what he would describe as the greatest crime against humanity – you didn’t give him a “i’m home” kiss. you just rushed to the bathroom to get ready.
up until now, you still hadn’t given him the kiss. so yes, maybe he was punishing you now as he left you alone at the table to say hello to someone. but that was ten minutes ago and he hadn’t returned to get you as he stood talking to one of his female colleagues, laughing at her unfunny jokes, letting her touch his arm.
you’re sitting at the round dinner table with his other colleagues, drowning out their conversations about corporate things that you couldn’t be bothered to care about. you tightly grip the stem of your champagne flute, promising yourself that the next time she even as much as twirled her hair, you would go over there.
it isn’t long before your moment comes. his co-worker throws her head back, laughing, resting her manicured hand on your fiancé’s chest. you excuse yourself from the table, almost a hundred percent sure that they didn’t even notice your exit. you move gracefully but purposefully across the banquet hall to them.
“what’s so funny?” you ask taehyun with a smile, linking your arm with his.
“nothing,” he quietly responds. his coworker’s hand immediately drops.” clearing his throat, he introduces you. “i don’t think you guys have met.”
you reach out to shake her hand, your grip strong and assertive. “hi, i’m his fiancée, y/n.” you give her your fakest smile.
“it’s really nice to meet you,” she smiles back at you. the tension lingering between the three of you is palpable as you not so subtly rest your left hand on your fiance’s chest, showing off your diamond-studded engagement ring.
she is desperate to diffuse the tension, or at least get a way out. “i just remembered i had to speak with someone.” she says, before turning to you. “it was nice to meet you, y/n. i’ll see you on monday, tae.”
and with that, she leaves, leaving the lingering tension hanging like a heavy cloud. “i’m tired, i wanna go home,” you tell taehyun before going back to the table to get your purse.
you both say your goodbyes to his colleagues. the unresolved tension between the two of you is still lingering and noticeable to his coworkers, even as you maintain your grip on his arm.
the car ride home unfolds like a slow moving storm, filled with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of the car engine. the silence that settled between the two of you was suffocating. you just needed to break it.
you glance over at him. “are you going to tell me what that was about?”
taehyun’s eyes remain fixed on the road, the distant glow of the streetlights playing across his features. his hands tightly grip the steering wheel as he takes his time to respond to you. “you embarrassed me.��� he says, curtly.
“i embarrassed you?” your voice is a mix of disbelief and simmering frustration.
“yeah, you did.” he keeps his eyes on the road, and that just makes you a little bit angrier.
“you left me at that table by myself to go flirt with your stupid coworker.”
“she’s not stupid.” the coolness of his tone boils your blood. “she’s actually really nice. she works in the marketing department.”
a chill ran down your spine, and you shift in your seat, the sleek black dress clinging to you. “i don’t care about her.”
“and i wasn’t flirting with her.”
“can you please pull over?” he complies, steering the car into an empty parking lot.
as the car comes to a stop, you turn to face him again. “i wasn’t flirting with her,” he repeats, his eyes now finding yours.
“so if that wasn’t flirting then what was it?”
“we were having a conversation.”
“one where she just needed to have her hands all over you?”
“you didn’t kiss me.” he states matter of factly.
“what?”
“when you got home from work.”
you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
“you didn’t kiss me when you got home from work.” he repeats.
“oh my god,” realization dawns on you, and your lips form a pout.
“don’t do that,” he warns, rolling his eyes.
“don’t do what?” you tease, adopting a playful tone, “my boy missed me so much. want me to make it up to you?”
he groans, resting his head against the headrest, closing his eyes. the head of his seat, closing his eyes. “if you’re going to keep teasing me, then i don’t want your kiss.”
“i don’t mean a kiss,”
his eyes shoot open, curiosity replacing the embarrassment. “what do you mean?”
“if i embarrassed you, i should make it up to you, right?” you suggest, leaning in closer, your hand resting on his slacks.
taehyun gazes at you with a wide-eyed intensity while you fiddle with the zipper of his pants. you slip your hand inside his pants and palm his clothed dick.
“i thought you said you weren’t going to tease me,” he says in between his pretty whines.
you pull out his now hard cock and wrap your hand around his warm length. he looks at you with pleading eyes. unbuckling your seat belt, you lean down to place a light kiss on his flushed tip.
you look up at him, your eyes twinkling in amusement. “i gave you your kiss now, are you happy?”
taehyun carefully cups your face, pulling you upwards to kiss your lips finally. you pull away and draw your attention back to his dick, that lays gently in your hand. still maintaining eye contact, you trace your tongue along the tip, causing him to fully throw his head backwards in pleasure. slowly you take him in your mouth, until his dick hits the back of your throat and you’re gagging around him.
taehyun’s hands aptly find the back of your head, his fingers intertwining with your hair as you bob your head up and down, swallowing around his cock. his pretty moans and whine fill the car and you can’t help but feel amazing at how he just falls apart around you.
almost in an instant, everything feels a little too much for him — the warm, wet feeling around his length, the vibrations from your moans, the way your fingers work to softly massage his balls. his climax quickly creeps up on him and he can’t stop himself from cumming in your mouth.
“thank you,” he breathes out as you swallow his cum in desperate triumph.
he tilts your chin up, gazing into your watery eyes. “i’m sorry,” he confesses before kissing you again, tasting himself in your mouth.
“i’m sorry too.”
the two of you quickly pull yourselves together, and prepare to make your way back home. taehyun puts the car into drive but before he releases his foot from the brake, he looks at you again.
“can i have another kiss?”
taglist: @naomiarai @boba-beom @dearlyjun @atinyniki @isabellah29 @wiisoob @amanda4004
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#fay's works#taehyun smut#kang taehyun#kang taehyun smut#txt#tomorrow x together#txt smut#txt x reader#taehyun x reader
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think im having brainrot from riding tyuns abs and maybe riding kais face
what if tyun cums untouched from watching you and tells you to not stop until hes satisfied
what if hyuka goes needy from how the reader tastes and after she cums she tries to get off his face but he pulls her back down and tells her to give him one more even though it prob wont be just one
idk been having these for awhile now going crazy please indulge my tyunning thoughts ☹️☹️☹️
riding taehyun’s abs works as a last resort of getting what you want, so needy and horny but he’s not letting up— he’s just not gonna fuck you, end of story. too tired from a full tour, his muscles sore, his energy on an all time low but then he catches the way you rub your thighs every so often, and he feels bad, so then he rides his shirt up, “you can use me to get off.” use him as in grind your slick up his rigid abdominal muscles. alternatively, could also be a free use kink of taehyun, just pushing him down on a surface whenever you feel like it, pulling his shirt over his head so desperately, using your hands on his chest to position yourself, only in panties and an oversized t-shirt. “you’re already dripping on me.” he’d muse with the stupid grin of his, even when you could feel him trying to flex his abs under you, its a body hes worked so hard on, so to have you so desperate, so needy, trembling as you glide your clothed pussy against the ridges of his abdomen, he’s practically breathless watching you. “can’t talk huh? pathetic baby getting off just from my abs, awe.” the irony of his voice sounding like he just ran a mile. stuffing two fingers inside his mouth to shut him up and he obliges, letting you take control as you use him, “shut up.” you mutter through gritted teeth. covering his toned body with your slick, wet sticky substance coating his muscles—lol he’d have his hands grip your waist to guide you through your orgasm when you get weak, probably would cum in his pants just from the soft moans you let slip through your lips, almost like a spell cast on him, he’s so entranced.
now, riding hueningkai’s face is a different deal. adjusting your phone on the bedside table, camera recording the mess that’d ensue on your sheets—per kai’s request. you’d literally sit on him, and since he likes it rough, you make sure to have your fingers laced in his bed of hair, sending a fire to his poor scalp, lol but he likes it because you could hear the muffled whines against your pussy. looking down to see his eyes fluttering, already blown out as his tongue pokes and prods, fast against your pussy, gathering up your slick on his wet muscle. and once you move, occasionally bumping your clit against his nose, his hands’ trailing down his pants, jerking off his leaking dick, letting out the most sinful whimpers, mewling against your folds. when watching back, phone horizontal in your hand, his breath hitches, eyes fixed on how you just use his face despite knowing he was practically suffocated under you. “fuck, that’s so hot.” he’d say under his breath, wetting his lips. you snort, though you’re also finding it pretty hot with the way he just lays there with his hand down his pants. poor kai would probably start rubbing his hand over his thigh, near the boner that just popped. he didn’t plan to get hard when watching, but seeing the way you coat his face with your juices before finally lifting yourself off him, his lips swollen, face a complete mess of your cum, he’s twitching down there.
#txt smut#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#taehyun hard hours#hueningkai hard thoughts#taehyun smut#hueningkai smut#txt x reader
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cw: toxic behaviour, squirting, drinking, mentioned fight, fem!reader
(a/n:this is heavily inspired by @nightlyawnzz because im constantly in a toxic!txt brainrot now ilysm lia waaa)
fucking toxic fwb taehyun for the what you swear is the last time, sick of the way he treats you just as a cumdoll and not even looking at you outside of yours or his dorm room
telling him its over, that you can't see him anymore after tonight, and watching as his eyes glaze over in outright fury, his lip curling up in a snarl
"you think you can walk away that easily, huh? did you forget that you're mine? no one else can make that sweet pussy cream like me."
you're manhandled onto the nearest surface - probably a kitchen counter - and pounded until you're shaking and sobbing, begging for him to finally let you cum
him letting you leave after you've squirted all over him and the counter top, a smug grin on his face when you reiterate that you can't see him anymore
"tryna convince me or yourself, sweetheart?"
not hearing from him again after that night, torn between feeling grateful that he got the hint and upset at all your failed hookups after
seeing him next at a party, at least 3 girls all sprawled around him, flirting and batting their eyelashes, after your friends abandon you to find conquests of their own
watching as he leads one of the girls up the stairs, the whole time eyes locked with yours as if to make sure you can see how easily replaceable you are
allowing yourself to drink a little too much, falling into the arms of one of his friends who ends up sitting with you and talking most of the night
leaning in to kiss the guy - finally, after holding off for at least 2 hours - only to feel your shoulder pulled back and watch in horror as taehyun lands a sucker punch on his friend's face
letting yourself get dragged away from the party, pushed into the back seat of taehyun's car, only able to look at him in absolute shock and confusion
unable to stop yourself from whining into his mouth when he slams his lips against yours, hands tangled in your hair and pulling you onto his lap
"i told you you're mine, didn't i? don't start whoring yourself out just because i didn't come chasing after you."
crying out as he eats it from behind right there in his car, not caring who can see or hear you because, god - he's right, no one else makes you cum the way he does
falling straight back into the same old routine, but finding yourself not hating it so much this time around
after all, he can fuck who he wants, but you'll always be his favourite booty call. you'll always be the one he texts in the dead of night when no one else will know
and maybe he gets the same sick joy out of it that you do
(a/n: scheduled post!)
-> don’t forget to reblog or comment if you like my works ♡ please refrain from modifying, translating, or copying my work. - © mixtape-racha
tags ✮⋆˙ : @pretty-racha @demetrisscarf @bangtancultsposts @watariisbestboy @yevene @zuzuhasablog @popesfirstluv @jeniihss
#mixtape-racha#mixtape-hard thoughts ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗#143 i luv queue ✮⋆˙#txt x reader smut#txt fic#txt fanfic#txt smut#txt hard thoughts#txt hard hours#txt drabbles#taehyun x y/n#taehyun x you#txt taehyun#taehyun x reader#kang taehyun#tubatu#aria: tyun fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹#aria: txt fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹
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omg u have tyun pussy slapping on the brain but i just have tyun and spanking/slapping brainrot in general all of the time.. his big strong hand always ready to put his dumb wifey back in her place UGHFJHJFH
lia u can't rn. ughh taehyun slapping ur pussy when you're being an absolute fucking brat and slapping your ass when you're being bad but not as much.. HUSBAND tyun!!
like imagine you're like in doggy with tyun snd when he pulls your head back up from the sheets, you still go back down, staining the sheets with your tears n just wailing n crying like those are the times where tyun has to slap ur ass, big hands creating a loud clapping sound when coming in contact with ur skin <33
but slapping ur pussy is when u go overboard to the max, rolling those pretty eyes at him, and just randomly getting off when riding him, wiping his kisses and just being a whiny brat— that's when taehyun has to turn that pussy red, tears prick at ur eyes, repeating the same word sorry over n over again <3
#lia <3#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#txt smut#taehyun hard hours#taehyun hard thoughts#taehyun smut
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breathing hard against each other !
warnings : angst in yeonjun, mentions of violence in taehyun, HEAVY angst in beomgyu. very fluffy in soobin and hyuka, some curse words (bullshit, fuck)
a/n : i’ve had this idea ever since i watched to-do ep 62, where they had to go inside those boxes and come out when they think what the member outside wrote on the board was about them. idk it just made my brain imagine some scenarios of them being very close to their partner in some way and breathing hard against them. i’m having a txt brainrot pls don’t judge me 😔 also requests are open !
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buy me a coffee 🥹🫶🏼
࣪₊♡𓂃 yeonjun : protecting you.
yeonjun was one of the most notorious mafia leaders out there. nobody could ever dare to come near his territory, which included his area, his team and his most prized possession; you. you were his everything and he ought to protect you and not let anyone mess with you. when it comes to his dirty work, he’s always tried to keep you hidden, shadowed away from naughty eyes and bad intentions.
but not always do things work as planned and yeonjun might just drop dead than to see you in danger because of him. when one of his operations failed miserably and your life was put on the line, his entire body caved in on him. when he got the phone call that you were kidnapped and tied to a chair inside an abandoned garage in the other area of the city, the world started turning the opposite way. he was so dizzy his ears started to buzz.
the way he drove to you with the help of his tracker was not human and when he got there and saw you in that state, head hanging low and body fragile to the touch, his knees went weak. he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. but he had to be strong,,,for you.
he quickly undid the ties that were around you, caressing your joints in the process and spluttering millions of apologies. he held you up in his arms and closer to his body, swiftly checking if you’re hurt in any way and delivering multiple kisses on your temple. you clutched tightly on his shirt when he started walking to the exit, too scared for your life. when you suddenly heard a crash, yeonjun had to make a subtle turn, pulling you into the closest wall. he put one hand around your waist and the other on the wall a few inches away from your head.
he was breathing so hard against you, his chest rising and falling at a speed you thought his heart was going to burst out at any moment. you knew he was scared, even more than you. when you placed your shaky hands on his chest, you felt his heart beating so fast inside his ribcage.
“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m soo sorry i put you through this,” he whispered with each breath, placing his plump lips on your forehead as he thinks of a way out.
you looked up at him, his eyes were closed and his eyebrows were furrowed, still breathing as hard as ever. little droplets of sweat had started to run down his forehead. when you gently put your icy fingers on his cheeks, his breath shuddered and his entire body felt cold.
“don’t apologize, we’ll find a way out. soon. i trust you.” you breathed against his chin, body clinging closer into him.
not long after, you heard the other members of his group make an intervention. that’s when yeonjun knew you were safe, knowing that he had the guys backing him up, you guys quickly and safely made it to his car, where he didn’t stop apologizing.
࣪₊♡𓂃 soobin : tickling each other.
every saturday evening is reserved for some time with soobin. whether you guys have to study together, go out for a hot drink at a cozy cafe or have a stroll around the city, you always made sure to spend time together. since you guys get so busy during the entire week, you always look forward to your saturdays together. this time, soobin planned a little night in at his place for you. it was a chilly saturday evening, which signaled just how perfect it was for a cozy date inside the premises of soobin's house, which was basically your home at this point.
you adjusted the big and fluffy scarf around your neck upon entering the convenience store. the variety of snacks and drinks caught your attention from every corner, very bright and colorful and you are right if you think you bought each of every snack your eyes landed on. you and soobin were not picky eaters so about anything and everything sounded right for you to buy. not to forget soobin's favorite snack, ice cream. you bought his favorite flavor and many other kinds for him to stock up in his fridge, and for you to steal later.
once you got everything, you literally bolted to his house, the air felt nice and refreshing but soobin's warm embrace sounded like a better idea. a few minutes later, your wish was granted and soobin was engulfing you in the biggest hug as if he hadn't seen you in months. you kissed each other on the cheeks before getting inside and putting the snacks away in the kitchen. he was astonished at how many you had bought, just how you were surprised to see the big fort he had built for the two of you in the middle of his living room.
"you're literally crazy, choi soobin!" you giggled as you tried to contain your happiness.
"says you who bought the entire convenience store?" he wondered from behind you, poking your sides.
you yelped and jumped two steps backwards, crashing right into his chest with your back. you fell right into his trap, and he started tickling you like crazy. you couldn't stand on your feet and getting away from him was a lost case, as he's got you wrapped around his body. the giggles coming out from your mouth were a fuel to his tickling attack and the more you begged him to stop, the more his smile just got wider and cuter, showing his cute dimples and bunny teeth.
"soobin! you will regret this!" you choked out between giggles and hard breaths, firing a light smack to his stomach with your elbow that made him fold in half and walk backward. this gave you the best opportunity to tackle him down.
he fell into the duvet he had spread out on the floor for the two of you, you positioned yourself on top of him, legs on either side of his body. you trapped his hands above his head, a crazy grin adorning your face. you weren't that strong, he just played along with you.
"you have three seconds to hold yourself accountable for making me laugh too hard my sides hurt," you said, holding your laughter and trying to stay as serious as you could.
"and if i don't?" soobin challenged you with a squint of his eyes, mouth falling into that small smile of his he always does when he's shy.
"then you'll receive my tickles!" you didn't let him react before you started attacking him with tickles and he was so weak from laughing to push you away.
after a good minute of just tickling each other back and fourth, you stopped. head feeling so light and breathing so hard you couldn't move, just now realizing how intimate the position you were in was. soobin smiled up at you, swiftly sliding his hands up your sides and pulling you closer to his face. his fast and deep breath tickling your face. you just kept smiling at each other like you were falling in love for the first time ever.
"i love you, you dork," he breathed out, brushing his nose against yours before kissing it.
࣪₊♡𓂃 beomgyu : kissing each other goodbye.
happily ever after was bullshit. you wanted to curse each and every romantic book you've ever read because it was all just a big lie. just an act. something to fool people with, to lure them into the temptation of always staying together with the love of your life, no breakups whatsoever and then hitting them with the hard reality that it's not supposed to work like that. there is always something that ruins every beautiful moment and that's life.
you hated this. you hated that one day you were happy with the love of your life and the next day you were in the place you used to call home, packing all your things and trying to erase every good memory from your brain.
it's not your fault this, it's not his fault that, you've heard a lot of this you wanted to go invisible. you loved beomgyu and he loved you so much, but in the middle of your journey you found that you were not good for each other. that you needed to grow apart from each other, that you still had to learn a lot of things, being that you needed to learn to love yourselves first before being ready to give love to each other.
the past couple of months with each other were just a spiral of arguments and misunderstandings that sent you into a bad mental and emotional state. instead of loving each other healthily, you began to depend on each other and instead of talking things out and communicating to avoid future problems, you found yourself gravitating back to each other and piling your emotions at the back of your hearts, until you both couldn't take it anymore.
you started firing insults that you didn’t mean at each other, just so you could see who could hurt the other the most. you cried into each other’s arms, hating yourselves but craving to hear the word love from one another. everyone around you saw how miserable you made each other feel, but you always concealed it with excuses like ‘we know we want to be with each other, that’s what matters to us.’ a lie from here and there, and you were good to go. but when night time comes, you were the only ones who knew how bad you hurt each other.
it had to come from someone. one of you had to step back from the relationship and warn the other. wake them up from the illusion, tell them that you were no good to each other. that if you keep going like this, you’ll go nowhere else but to an asylum. and you were the one who decided to put an end to this ongoing living hell. after a lot of debating, hot tears and quiet sobs. beomgyu didn’t agree at first, screaming and slamming his fist into anything his eyes landed on. but you ended up convincing him.
the sound of the door opening and closing stirred you out of your reverie. it was beomgyu. he was standing in the entrance of your shared bedroom, looking at you packing your bags with a heavy heart. you tried not to pay him any attention, although your heart turned into some sort of magnet, a powerful force trying to push you to him. but you bit your lip instead, so hard you tasted the blood on your tongue.
“so…this is it,” beomgyu whispered when you zipped up the last of your bags.
“i guess so,” you shrugged, looking down at your feet. you didn’t have any more time to waste, so you started taking out the bags from the bedroom.
seeing you struggling, beomgyu whispered, “let me at least help you,” it broke his heart seeing you, for the first time ever, not asking for help when you were with him.
you stayed quiet and let him do whatever he wanted. you didn’t have anything more to lose after all. standing by the door, you put your shoes on and your scarf around your neck, taking one last look at the house before stepping out. you didn’t cry, you had plenty of time to do that later.
but beomgyu couldn’t hide his pain. tears were messily sliding down his cheeks, face contorted into the most painful expression you’ve ever seen on him. eyes puffy and forehead filled with creases, he sniffled multiple of time before choking out a “wait!”
you stopped walking to the taxi, heart heavy and light headed. you had your back to him, you didn’t have it in you to turn to him, not now. not when he’s crying. not when you’re breaking apart. you felt him tug at your arm, before gently turning you over to him. he didn’t let go of you. and you didn’t push him away.
“can i kiss you?” he whispered, his warm breath turning into visible puffs of air in the cold weather. “just one last time…” he added as he got closer to you, leaning his forehead against yours with closed eyes. his long eyelashes feathering over his cheeks.
you didn’t fight back. when he went in for a kiss, you mirrored him immediately and your lips met in the middle of the way. it was rushed, hasty but passionate. full of apologies, of what-ifs, of we could’ve been the best couple out there, of we need to learn to love ourselves first, of i will miss you with my whole heart, of i will miss you even more, of i can’t live without you, of oh yes you can and you have to, of i need to go now, of i can’t seem to let go of you.
but you had to pull away from him, lips swollen and breathing so hard against each other. beomgyu bit his lip, tasting the last bits of you, his icy fingertips slowly grazing over your cheeks and then, you slipped away.
who knows, maybe at the end of the journey, you’ll go back to each other.
࣪₊♡𓂃 taehyun : calming him down while angry.
you were never a fan of underground fighting. you never understood the concept of it and you never wanted to change that. when you first knew that taehyun was an underground fighter, or a ‘guerilla’ as they called him, there was not a day that passed when your heart didn’t miss a beat.
but you had to support taehyun in his decision, because it was more than just a passion for him at this point, it was a one of his sources of income. he was happy doing it and he never once worried about getting hurt because he was very good at what he was doing.
whenever you worried about him, it was always the same scenario; that he was the best in this field and everyone was scared to go against him. he liked to flex and show off and he didnt miss any chance to rub it in your face. there was no denying that you loved him for his confidence, and that it gave him a very sexy aura, but still. your heart would always go crazy watching him fight.
when you first knew him, you made it your mission to accompany him, even though he always tried to convince you not to.
"there's no way i'll stay home while you're out there," you had said for the first time he had a match during your first month together.
"it's very dangerous for you out there, baby," he had whispered on top of your head, squeazing you tight in his arms. "i can't let anything happen to you, even though i can let yeonjun stay with you but it won't be the same if i'm not the one protecting you."
"but try to see where i'm coming from. my heart would literally stop beating if i stay alone, not knowing what's happening to you out there," you had pulled away from his embrace, looking him softly in the eyes.
his heart had softened as he pulled you into his embrace again. he had sighed, "okay. i'll try to prove to you that i'm the best, since you don't seem to believe me."
and he really did prove it to you, but you always kept accompanying him.
-
fastforward to today, you were seated at the very back in the audience. yeonjun sitting close to you. taehyun hadn't stopped warning him to keep all his senses awake, and not to let anyone approach you. he couldn't leave your side before kissing you softly on your forehead, still mumbling a 'be aware of your surroundings, and stay close to yeonjun. and if something happens, just scream your lungs out.' you kissed his worries away and sent him to the ring with a cheer of encouragement.
it was not the first time coming with him, but that speech of him had become a habit to you and yeonjun. you knew he was just worried about you and you made sure not to let anything bad happen. all your worry was him not getting a harsh blow to his face.
the fight went all well, just like always. this night again, he had a lot of bets up for his favor and secured a pretty good amount of money. not only that but he gained fame as well, which meant more bets the next time and more gains in the future.
he came up to you all sweaty and scratched up, nothing too serious, just the usual small cuts here and there. you headed to the lockers, where he sat you down in his lounge and went for a quick shower and change. yeonjun joined you for a while before he got a call from his girlfriend and went to meet her. he was not lectured to stay with you in taehyun's lounge room as well, as it was safer inside.
you stayed alone for a little bit before you heard the door opening and closing. you turned over from your sitting position, big and bright smile on your face, expecting to see taehyun, when you were surprised with an unfamiliar face. on a very bulky body.
your facial expression quickly melted into horror, panic rushing to your veins. this was the first time ever someone dared to come near taehyun's lounge and this person clearly had no good intentions. how they got access to this place, you had no idea. you couldn't think of anything; your mind went blank and voice went silent for a second.
"i heard you're taehyun's girlfriend..." when the man started talking, it was like a slap on your face that woke you up from your daze.
you didn't control yourself when you let out a strident scream, just like how taehyun taught you a while ago. you were so scared, you kept screaming with eyes shut and closed fists. the door of taehyun's locker almost tore apart before he came in, shirtless and only in grey sweats, hair still wet, ready to attack. and his first reflex was to jump on the man and fire punches up his face. you watched the scene in horror, too shocked to talk after the scream you let out. it was like you were deep inside a nightmare where you want to talk but feel suffocated.
taehyun kept sending blows to the guys face and ribs, tackling him down and straddling him, not stopping the punches. his face and neck turned red and the expression he had on his face was new to you. it wasn't even the same one he had inside the ring, it was one of pure hatred and anger.
"taehyun," you managed to stutter, voice barely above a whisper.
he didn't hear you, he couldn't hear you on top of his groans and hits and the man's moans of pain. he basically ended him, not stopping his punches even after seeing how wasted he was. but you had to stop him somehow, otherwise he'd kill him.
you trudged to him, circling your hands around his arms. when your skin touched, taehyun shivered and his breath shuddered, it was like you woke him up for a daze that he didn't even realize he was in.
"taehyun, stop. you're gonna kill him if you don't stop." you tried to say closer to his ear. feeling his movements slow down, you took a deep breath of relief. you helped him calm down by gently caressing his arms, shoulders and neck.
you pulled him up and turned him to you. he couldn't look at you, still looking at the unconscious man on the floor, nose flaring at how deep he was breathing. you gently placed your hand on his warm cheeks, "calm down baby, i don't think it matters anymore if you keep hitting him. it looks like he's learned his lesson."
your heart was pounding. you have never seen him this angry. you prayed that he would calm down soon, so you kept gently caressing his cheeks, whispering calming words, until he leaned his forehead on top of yours.
your voice was very soft to his wrecked mind and angered body. he was breathing so hard, chest jumping up and down you were scared his heart would fail him. taehyun wiped his hands on his sweatpants before he engulfed you between his arms in a bone crushing hug.
"fuck, i was so scared." he breathed in your hair, running his hands through your entire body, checking if you were hurt. "i was so so scared. that's like my worst nightmare come true." he breathed.
"i know. it's all over now. nothing happened."
taehyun kissed you so long on your forehead, squeazing your soft cheeks between his rough hands.
"you're never coming to this place. ever again."
this time, you didn't fight back.
࣪₊♡𓂃 huening kai : 7 minutes in heaven.
if you would think that you being with hueningkai, inside a closet, in your house was something that happened by chance, you’d be totally wrong.
it was all a result of a butterfly effect that your friends, who are his friends as well, worked really hard to make it happen. zero chance involved, it was all calculated by them. they were the ones who invited themselves over at your dorms, the ones who proposed to play the silly little game of spin the bottle, and of course, the ones who made you sit across from hueningkai in the circle.
at first, you didn’t think much of it. even though you didn’t agree on playing spin the bottle, they somehow convinced you. and it only meant quality time with your friends, which was one of your top love languages. everything want perfectly according to their plan and they’ve got you just where they wanted.
it was not boring. it was never boring with them, from one side. from another side, your crazily beating heart never made a moment pass without keeping things interesting when it came to hueningkai. you didn’t even have the words to describe the way your heart went fluttering every time you saw him. he didn’t even have to say anything to you and you’d be in shambles, just being close to him.
this crush of yours was nothing new to you. it’s been locked away in your heart ever since the first moment your eyes landed on him. everything about him was sweet and soft. from his beautiful eyes, down to the shape of his noise, the way his smile painted your bluest days pink, and the list went on. you could write poems about how beautiful his voice was, how warm his hugs were and just how perfect of a person he was in your eyes.
but what you didn’t know was that your friends read through you like a clear paper. they noticed how you always smiled at hueningkai first when someone cracked a joke. they noticed how your gaze always lingered on him a second more than when you looked at anyone else, and how your posture perked up whenever he made an appearance.
they noticed everything. in fact, they also noticed how clueless hueningkai was. and how you’d never have the balls to confess. so they decided to put matters into their own hands.
and there you were. with hueningkai kai, inside a closet in your house, totally not by chance.
your heart was pounding inside your chest, which only meant how fast your breathing was. you did try to control it by counting to three inside your head while inhaling from your nose, and then counting back to three while exhaling. but it only made your breathing accelerate even more. your eyes flickered between him and his lips that were adorning the most awkward smile. you didn’t have the intention to lean in for a kiss, it was just that you couldn’t keep eye contact with him for more than a second without feeling like digging yourself a hole and hiding away inside of it.
you and hyuka shared an awkward laugh, not knowing what to do with your hands. it didn’t help that you were standing, your arms felt limp beside your body and your legs felt like jelly. one of you had to break the silence but you were both too shy to do so. you kept thinking to yourself ‘is this really going to be a failure?’ while biting your lip. it was your first time being this close to him, except for when you guys side-hug each other goodbye.
“this is…awkward,” hueningkai chuckled, not knowing the right words to say.
you were so embarrassed, already picturing the awkwardness you’d feel towards him after this little scene if you just didn’t push through your pounding heart and overthinking mind and made a move.
hueningkai was just as shy as you. he liked you. so so much. he liked the way you smelled and the fact that you were so short standing in front of him. he’s always liked you. he liked the way you always put your hair up in a bun and secure it with a pencil that you end up looking for later. he liked the fact that you always preferred to sit in the middle of the row instead of the side in class. he liked the fact that you removed tomatoes from your burgers and how you get annoyed when they mess up your order.
he always noticed these small details about you. and he made sure to always put a pen that he didn’t use on top of the table. he made sure to always leave an empty seat for you in the middle of the row. and he always made sure to order your burgers and sandwiches with no tomatoes.
just looking at your lost and wondering eyes right now, he knew just how down bad he was for you, which made his heart jump at the sudden realization. his breathing increased with the rhythm of his heart. his mind went dizzy, he had to secure himself up somehow. he took an inch of a step closer to you, placing his left hand along with his forearm beside your head, on the wall behind you. your hands instantly linked behind your back, making your chest closer by a hair to him.
your breathings mingled together at the closeness of your bodies and little droplets of sweat started traveling all the way down your backs. your eyes bored into his, talking silently.
“are we really gonna do things backwards?” he breathed, breaking the silence. his voice just above a whisper. “do you want us to kiss?” hueningkai was so forward with you and that was what worked best for him. because without a word, you nodded.
“yes.” whispered, mind cloudy. “i want us to kiss. i want you to kiss me so i don’t go crazy right now. my heart is beating so fast because of you-”
and there he went in. kissing your lips, ever so softly. taking you to another word. it was very shy, very sweet, and very wholesome. just two lovebirds who never knew how to confess, finally kissing their feelings away.
a/n : if you've read till here thank you so much! please do let me know what you think in the comments and reblog if you liked it <;33
#nimi writes🌱#txt#txt headcanons#txt scenarios#txt reactions#txt x reader#txt fluff#txt angst#yeonjun#yeonjun headcanons#yeonjun scenarios#yeonjun x you#yeonjun x reader#soobin#soobin headcanons#soobin scenarios#soobin x you#beomgyu#beomgyu headcanons#beomgyu x you#beomgyu x reader#taehyun#taehyun headcanons#taehyun scenarios#taehyun x you#huening kai headcanons#huening kai x you#huening kai scenarios#beomgyu scenarios#huening kai x reader
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if you’ll have me (i) | c.yj
here’s (finally) the first part of the monster yeonjun fic I wrote in august, right in time for his birthday! happy birthday to the terrible wonderful human being who has given me the worst brainrot I've experienced in a while (second only to the rot brought on by one kang taehyun), and I hope you all enjoy this <3
Pairing: Yeonjun x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, angst, regency era!au, nobility!au
Warnings: mentions of past death, mentions of period-typical misogyny
Word Count: 11.3k
Yeonjun Choi, Duke of Hastings, is in want of a wife. Boxed in from all directions by the overbearing mamas of the ton, he begins his arduous search this season for not fortune, not love, but merely the perfect woman to succeed his mother's place. None of the daughters of high society manage to catch his eye, however, or fit his overwhelming list of standards—at least until he meets Miss Y/N L/N, the queen's diamond of the season, newly arrived in town from abroad and said to be one of the most accomplished women to grace the ton in a generation.
You, the eldest daughter and only child of the L/N family, just want stability. With your father dead and the estate passed to a cousin, leaving only your dowry and a small pittance from the inheritance left intact, you begin your search for a husband with money enough to keep you and your mother afloat. It seems like a miracle when, after being crowned the queen's diamond, the Duke of Hastings himself asks for your hand—but as you learn of his complete indifference to the concept of love, you begin to doubt yourself. Perhaps money is not enough to keep your hand—maybe you desired a true love match more than you thought.
Trapped in a marriage of convenience that everyone believes is a love story, you and Yeonjun find yourselves forced to reevaluate what you want out of this match. Between balls and promenades, dances and poetry, you begin to view each other beyond the pithy conversations allowed in the courting stages, learning to see one another not just as business partners, but perhaps friends as well. And as you begin to reconcile your needs and wants, your goals and desires, maybe, just maybe—
The ton's belief that you are a love match can find some truth, too.
Part 1 >> Part 2
TXT Masterlist
The minute Yeonjun enters the club, he makes a beeline for the corner where Soobin is sitting, two small glasses set on the table in front of him. He flops into a chair and downs one of them immediately. “I am so sick of debutante season.”
Soobin raises an eyebrow. “The season hasn't even started,” he points out.
“Exactly,” Yeonjun groans. “If it's this bad even before they've been presented to the queen, how much worse will it get when all the balls and courtships start?”
“It's kind of your fault,” Soobin says, picking up the other glass. “Maybe you shouldn't have announced your intention to find a wife so early on.”
“I didn't mention it,” Yeonjun hisses. “That rat bastard Wooyoung let it out before I was ready to say it publicly—”
“That's on you for letting Wooyoung hear you,” Soobin interjects calmly. And Yeonjun can't even argue with that—he loves Wooyoung, loves his friend dearly, but Wooyoung's loose tongue is arguably his worst trait—so all he does is slump back into his chair and raise a finger for another drink. “You're supposed to be comforting me,” he sulks. “Some best friend you are.”
“Well, I've made my opinions about your ways of getting a wife very clear, and you've elected to ignore every single one of them.” Soobin smiles. “Some best friend you are.”
“What's wrong with a list?” Yeonjun frowns, crossing his arms. “Every man—no, every person—has to have ideas about who their future partner might be, I've just written it out.”
“It's not the list that's the problem. Though I'm pretty sure not a lot of people would actually write a list, either.” Soobin finishes the rest of his drink just as Yeonjun's second one comes. “It's your requirements for the people on that list that is the issue.”
“What's wrong with my requirements?”
“They're so demanding.” Soobin places his empty glass down with a loud clack. “How many people, men and women of all ages included, do you think are actually fluent in all those languages you require? All those instruments? All that dancing? Impeccable decorum too, and on top of that, to have a proper, pretty visage of some sort—”
“That's not even a requirement,” Yeonjun argues. “My main goal is to try and find someone with a sound and clever mind to help me run the estate since my mother wants to retire to the country—”
“And that's well and fine, Yeonjun.” Soobin sighs. “My point is, your requirements are so stringent as to alienate every lady in this society from the prospect of marrying you.”
“Soobin, I hate to sound egotistic—” Soobin snorts, which Yeonjun staunchly ignores— “but they're literally leaping for my hand.”
“And you've turned away every single one who has dared to approach, as well as every single one you've invited for one of your little... interviews.” Soobin's nose scrunches, and it's not the nice nose scrunch. It's the annoyed one. Maybe even disgusted. “That's not how you get to know your life partner.”
Yeonjun rolls his eyes. “I'm not looking for love,” he snaps. “I'm looking for someone who will do her job as duchess. That's what I need right now, not love.”
“You won't be able to live well with someone you hate, regardless of how good she is at managing estate affairs.”
“I know. That's why a pleasant demeanor is also something I'm looking for.” Yeonjun snorts. “It's also why I won't be considering Mary Kim at all, no matter how much money her family might have.”
They both have to laugh at that. Mary Kim is a menace upon the ton's society—accomplished, perhaps, but completely unbearable in conversation. Yeonjun remembers saying before that he would rather cut off his hand than brave more than one dance with her. It wasn't a joke then, and it still isn't now.
“I just wish I was married already.” Yeonjun sips at his second drink, relishing the slight burn as it slides down his throat. “It would appease everyone—my mother wouldn't be hounding me anymore, Beomgyu would stop teasing me, and all the ton's mamas would stop trying to throw their daughters at me, too.”
“It's not that hard to get married,” Soobin replies. His eyes turn faraway, a little lovesick smile playing on his lips.
Yeonjun fixes his best friend with a deadpan glare. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance with a good, sweet, capable girl you've known since birth, Soobin.”
Soobin blushes, which Yeonjun counts as a win, but he doesn't relent. “You could really just loosen your list of requirements,” he says. “You're a duke, not a god.”
“I never claimed to be a god, nor do I think I want to be one.” He wrinkles his nose. “All those people who want to find the secret to immortality are idiots. Who wants to stay on earth forever?”
“I forgot how philosophical you get when you're tipsy,” Soobin mutters.
“I'm not tipsy,” Yeonjun protests. “I’ve only had two, and I hold my alcohol better than you. Anyway, it's not like my requirements are completely unreasonable. My mother could do all of this, and it's why my father decided to court her.”
“Oh, so it wasn't because of the fact that they fell in love, and your father would have no one else but her regardless of whether or not she was fluent in Latin and Greek?”
Yeonjun scowls. “Look, the point is, these skills gave my mother the ability to both be a competent duchess and be seen as one, as well. My future wife will have to maintain her image, and having these skills will only aid her in that endeavor.”
Soobin sighs. “You're not going to let up, are you?”
“No.”
“Well, you might have one stroke of luck left.” Soobin smiles. “I hear that the L/Ns are coming back into town. And that the eldest daughter of the family might be one of the most accomplished women to grace the ton in a generation.”
“The L/Ns?” Yeonjun frowns. “Why did they leave town, again?”
“The late lord died suddenly without a male heir, and in the wake of his death, the rest of the family went abroad.” Soobin accepts a refill of his small glass. “Some more gossipy people will say that it was because he spent too lavishly and left the family in a dire financial situation, but I don't think that's true.”
“Then what happened?” Yeonjun asks.
“My mother knew them somewhat well, I think. She said that around the time he died, his mother, who lived abroad, fell ill, so the family moved to take care of her.”
“Who took over the estate?”
“Some distant cousin. I don't think you've met him, and I don't know him very well either—he spends most of his time in the country and seems to keep to himself even when he is in town.” Soobin purses his lips. “I don't think he's necessarily hostile to the late lord's family, but they aren't close.”
“So will they be staying at the estate for the season, then?” Yeonjun presses. “And why are they coming back?”
“The late lord's mother died,” Soobin says. “There was no reason for them to remain abroad, so they should be returning just in time for the season. And I don't know for sure, Yeonjun, considering I'm not exactly privy to all of their plans, but I don’t see any reason why they wouldn’t be staying at the estate. Not when there isn’t any obvious hostility towards the lord.”
Yeonjun cocks his head. Sips his drink. “I haven't met the daughter yet, have I?”
“Not closely, I don't think.” Soobin shrugs. “We were both at boarding school during the time she would have been growing up in town. I only know this much because my mother was close with them and has been in some contact with them since they decided to return.”
Yeonjun downs the rest of his glass. “And you say she has the ability to meet all of my oh-so-stringent requirements?”
“If what I've heard is correct, then I think she's the one who will ever come the closest.”
“Well.” Yeonjun smiles, standing up. “I think I've found my next target. I've got to go, but do inform me if you hear anything else about her, will you?”
“You haven't even asked for her name,” Soobin snorts.
“Well?” Yeonjun crosses his arms. “Then what is it?”
“Y/N.” Soobin's eyes glint. “Her name is Y/N L/N.”
. . . . .
Someday, when you die, you are going to scour heaven and hell to find the person who invented these ridiculous traditions for poor debutantes such as you and kill them again. In the afterlife. Just because they deserve it.
Which is not to say everything is wrong with the tradition. You don't mind the white dress, nor the tasteful jewelry Sakura helped clasp around your neck and wrists. The gloves aren't too bad—you've gotten used to how slippery they feel when you try to grasp things—and the shoes are manageable.
But the feathers.
The feathers.
As you step out of the carriage, all you can think of beyond not tripping over your feet right then and there is keeping your balance enough that the ridiculous headdress topped with a plume of long, white feathers doesn't fall. Once on the ground, you raise a hand to try and steady it—
“Don't touch it,” your mother hisses, batting your hand away. “It looks fine.”
You groan. “It doesn't feel right, Mother.”
“It never feels right.” She gives you a sympathetic glance. “But I promise you, dear, it looks fine. Trust me.”
“All right, Mother.” You sigh, resisting the urge to touch the feathers again.
“Good girl.” She smiles taking your arm. “Come now—let’s go see you off.”
All around you, girls in varying shades of white and gold and all those ridiculous feathered headdresses have begun heading into the palace. You follow the crowd, trying not to get swept up in it—your mother plays an important role in this, expertly chivvying the two of you between the families clamoring to reach the hall—all the while trying to catch a glimpse of the palace finery that seems to float past your eyes too fast for you to process anything.
“Now remember, Y/N,” your mother whispers when you finally reach the room where you will wait to walk. “Remember—stand tall, step proudly, keep your balance—”
“I know, Mother,” you hiss, clenching your fingers so they don't go up to try and rearrange the headdress that you're absolutely certain is starting to fall. “Are the feathers still in place?”
“Yes they are, darling,” she replies patiently.
A twinge of shame ripples through your chest—she's trying her best, you know, trying her best to help you in every way she knows how, and you just keep fretting about the stupid feathers on top of your stupid head.
Well, if the feathers weren't part of this tradition, they wouldn't be a problem, the nastier part of you sniffs.
“You look wonderful.” Your mother clasps her hands together, and—oh, dear, you can see tears welling up in her eyes and now you feel like you're going to cry too. “No, dearest, don't cry,” she says, visibly holding back her own tears as she pulls a handkerchief seemingly out of nowhere and dabs at her eyes, then at yours. “Don't ruin your makeup for this big day, yes?”
“I won't.” You laugh, choking back your own tears. “I won't, Mother.”
“You look wonderful,” she repeats, lowering the handkerchief. “Not even the diamond of my season looked quite as well as you. You’ve grown to be so beautiful and capable—your father would be so proud to see you here, now.”
“Mother, please.” You laugh again but it comes out a little wet, with the lump in your throat and the tears beginning to brim anew in your eyes. “You're really going to make me cry, now.”
“We can't have that.” She dabs at your eyes again before looking over your shoulder. “Oh, my—they're about to start!”
Sure enough, not a minute after your mother speaks does the footman at the entrance clear his throat. The crowd of debutantes and mothers and siblings falls quiet, the silence broken only by a periodic shuffle or whisper.
You try hard not to think about the feathers that feel like they're about to slip off the top of your head.
“Mary Kim”, comes the first announcement, “presented by her mother, the Right Honorable Lady Kim.”
You swallow hard.
And so it begins.
. . .
The room has nearly emptied halfway of debutantes, and still you have not been called.
You take back everything you thought about your outfit earlier. The feathers are still atrocious and you want to rip the headdress off right here and now, debut be damned, but your hands have grown sweaty under the gloves, the light makeup Sakura helped you apply feels like it's suffocating your face, and the dress that you absolutely cannot fidget with no matter what has started to dig into your skin. You take a deep breath, standing up straight in the hopes that the fabric will stop itching if you try to touch as little of it as possible—
“We're next,” your mother hisses into your ear.
You nearly choke. “What—”
The crowd of debutantes parts for your path as your mother forcefully guides you to the front. You stare at the doors that will open in seconds, praying, praying, praying you don't trip on the hem of your skirts or on some pebble on the floor or, heaven forbid, the air itself—
“Y/N L/N,” intones the footman, “presented by her mother, the Right Honorable Lady L/N.”
Your mother takes your arm, and as the doors begin to open, you force yourself to breathe.
Your body moves automatically, hours of practice showing their worth in your memory. Posture straight, head level, chin tipped up just enough to suggest pride, but not so much as to indicate haughtiness. Your feet step sedately, one after another, small, light steps to accommodate the dress, and the hand not taken by your mother lies against your side, uncurling from the fist it was in before. Your gloves still feel like they're about to slip off your fingers from sweat and the headdress still feels like it's going to fall off your head, but you continue forward even after your mother stops, one step, then two. Then you halt.
And begin to curtsy.
Balance, your mother's voice rings in your head. Grace will follow. First and foremost, keep your balance.
And you do.
You lower your head into the curtsy, eyes fluttering shut for one moment as you try to calm your breath. Behind you, your mother remains bowed and you take that as your cue to do the same, praying your legs don't begin aching so much that you fall.
For one moment, two, three, you simply stand there, breathing, counting the breaths, the moments until the queen will dismiss you. She has done nothing else yet, you're sure—according to your mother, you would've heard the gasp and perhaps applause if she'd crowned her diamond, and it doesn't seem as though anything untoward such as a lady fainting in her dress has happened either. You haven't tripped, you haven't fallen, and you can hear no giggles or whispers that indicate anything about your dress or feathers being in some sort of disarray, there’s no reason to think you won’t be dismissed without fanfare just as the other ladies have been so far, which is all you need in the moment, just a proper dismissal without embarrassment—
Footsteps sound on the long carpet, coming from the front. Where the queen was sitting as you walked down the hall.
A greater hush falls over the already quiet crowd. You don't dare to lift your eyes at all to see what you are beginning to suspect might be the case.
The footsteps come closer. Closer. You squeeze your eyes shut and open them again, just in time to see a dazzling pair of shoes and the hem of an opulent skirt enter your vision—
A finger touches your chin. Lifts it. Begins to pull you up.
And you meet eyes with the queen herself, staring at you with a benevolent smile on her lips.
Your breath catches in your throat. The eyes of everyone in the room must be on you, you're sure, but your mind is swimming and everything feels like a blur and the queen is in front of you, the queen is really in front of you, smiling at you like you might just be her diamond of the season.
Her finger falls away, but the smile stays. Your heart pounds against your chest, so loud you're sure she must be able to hear it as her mouth opens and she says—
"Flawless, my dear."
Whispers and gasps fill the room, punctuated by a squeal or two—you don't dare look towards crowd to see who it was—and it doesn't matter because you couldn't, anyway, not when the queen has taken your face between her two gloved hands and is now pressing a soft, dry kiss to the top of your forehead.
She rises. Turns. Walks back to her seat at the far end of the hall. Dimly, you remember that that must be your cue to rise as well and you do, taking the two steps backward to reach your mother, head still lowered. Next to you, she rises, and you lift your chin to see every eye in the hall still fixated upon you.
“Did that—” you breathe, forcing your lips not to move— “Mother, did that truly just happen?”
“Keep smiling, dearest,” she whispers, expertly taking your arm once more. One glance to the side shows you a brilliant smile upon her face, joyful yet not gloating, wide yet still gentle, but you can feel her trembling against you even as she steadily turns you around. Putting on a mask, you remember, forcing yourself to breathe once, twice—you need to do that too. Keep smiling, keep smiling, keep smiling. Because everyone's eyes are on you, now.
Y/N L/N, the season's diamond.
. . . . .
In another universe, Yeonjun thinks he could actually enjoy balls as a sort of fun event. There's good food, if not very filling, there's alcohol and lemonade, and usually he can find a few people with whom he is friendly and to whom he can speak. And even if there aren't, as his mother will say, he was blessed with a friendly exterior and an extroverted personality. Beomgyu once said he could make friends with a tree if he charmed it the right way.
Of course, coming out of Beomgyu's mouth, it sounded more like an insult than a compliment, but Yeonjun has long since learned not to give in to his cousin's backhanded mockery.
Put this way, balls could be pleasant. Fun, even. Yeonjun doesn't even mind dancing at all the way some of his peers do—in fact, with the right person, it can even be relaxing. But the problem is, balls are not simply social get-togethers with people his age.
They're marriage contracts. Or at least attempts at them.
The second Yeonjun steps into the Kims' grand home, immediately the lady of the house assaults him with her painted smiles and sickly voice. “Your Grace!” she simpers, taking him by the arm. “I've heard you have chosen to be active this season, is this true?”
Inwardly, Yeonjun spits all the curses he can at an imaginary Wooyoung dancing around in his head. Outwardly, he smiles back. “Your sources are indeed credible, my lady,” he says, laughing as he gently tugs his arm away. “What you have said is true.”
“Oh!” The feigned surprise on Lady Kim's face will always make his stomach churn no matter how many times he sees it. “Well, in that case, I must introduce you to my daughter, Mary—she just debuted this season, I'm sure—”
“Your Grace!” Another mother appears—Mrs. Jung, Yeonjun remembers just as she parks herself firmly by his side, cutting Lady Kim off. He has exactly one second to wonder whether it is a blessing to be torn away from Lady Kim and a potential conversation with Mary or a curse to be thrown into another determined mama's path before Mrs. Jung thrusts her poor daughter in front of him. “My daughter, you'll know, she just debuted this season—she's a wonderful dancer, anyone would be lucky to have her hand—”
A split second glance around the large entrance hall tells him no one he knows is nearby enough to save him from the madness. Already other mothers have spotted him, are snatching their daughters' wrists to come and bombard him with heavy hints at a dance and a possible marriage, so he quickly signs Mrs. Jung's daughter's dance card—he doesn't even know her name, she wasn't on his shortlist of possible future spouses and between all the hubbub he didn't hear Mrs. Jung introduce her if she even did—and then disappears into the crowd with a beatific smile in her direction, only breathing a sigh of relief when he reaches the open ballroom.
“Yeonjun!” Wooyoung comes bounding up to him in seconds, one glass of something in each hand. He hands one to Yeonjun. “How are you faring so far?”
“Not well, and no thanks to you,” Yeonjun hisses, taking a hefty gulp of the drink. There are more beady-eyed mamas and daughters glancing his way here, some who followed him from the entryway and others who have just noticed him. “Why did you have to open your big mouth about me seeking a wife?”
“Well, it seemed like something the ton should know.” Wooyoung shrugs, shameless as ever. “You're now the most eligible bachelor in the room, don't you feel popular?”
Yeonjun rolls his eyes, ready to snap back something sharp that Wooyoung will take in stride and laugh off, eventually making Yeonjun laugh too, but then his eyes are drawn to a crowd of people in another corner of the ballroom, almost exactly mirroring the scene on his side. Only there, it's a horde of men dressed dashingly in their black and white instead of women in their vivid colors, crowding around someone who can only be—
“The season's diamond,” Wooyoung chirps, following Yeonjun's gaze. “Miss L/N.”
Yeonjun blinks. “You know her?”
“Not well, of course.” Mischief glints in Wooyoung's eyes, and Yeonjun can already sense he's in for a bout of relentless teasing. “Are you interested?”
“Of course I am.” He sniffs. “Who wouldn't be interested in the season's diamond? Especially after she's been away for several years?”
“Well, if you are, I would go and try to corner a dance right now.” Wooyoung jerks his head toward the crowd of men. “Before I am forced to leave—hey, don't give me that look, I can't stay with you forever—and the other mamas manage to ambush. Or, heaven forbid—” He leans in close. “Her dance card is full by the time you find the courage to approach.”
Internally, Yeonjun groans. This is why he hates balls—it's always a chase of some sort, him chasing a wife or everyone else trying to chase a husband—but he has to do it. His mother has done her job as dowager after his father's death, and she deserves her retirement. It's his turn to step up and take charge of the estate.
And he'll need a duchess at his side for that.
Quickly he downs the rest of his drink, placing it on an empty tray nearby. “Wish me luck,” he mutters to Wooyoung before heading straight into the throng.
. . . . .
Before this night, your mother grilled you on what to expect as an accomplished debutante, as well as what to expect as a diamond of the first water (for that is what they're calling you, apparently, those who saw you walk down the hall toward the queen).
It still did not prepare you for this.
The second you step into the ballroom, having successfully dodged the worst of Lady Kim's simpering compliments that felt more like backhanded insults than anything else, too many eyes turn towards you. You can feel them raking over your entire body, studying your makeup, your jewelry, every stitch of your clothing, and even though the attention makes you want to shrivel up and curl into a ball, you have to keep smiling.
Remember, dearest, every eye is now on you. Your mother's words ring through your mind once more.
You stand on a pedestal now, after having gained the queen's approval. It is an honor to have been chosen, but that just means there is only a greater distance to fall.
Your fingers itch for a pen and paper, preferably your favorite pencil and worn leather notebook. There's poetry here in the irony of your situation, but between the flurry of teas and fittings and brief outings between your debut and this first ball, you have had no chance to let your thoughts out onto paper for several days. Just little bits of writing here and there, on scraps of parchment and scribbled onto your hands...
But you can't focus on that tonight, not on the words whisking into poetry and prose in your mind. You swallow. Your goal is to find a husband, to secure financial stability for your family no matter what it takes.
And from what you've gathered over the short course of your lifespan, most men don't exactly appreciate poetry from the women they seek to marry.
So you lift your head, taking care not to gawk in any direction (because for all you think the Kim family is a menace to society, they do have good taste in decoration), and paste your practiced sweet smile to your lips. Like any good debutante should.
Like any diamond of the first water should.
Your mother stays with you, thank the heavens, as the men begin to approach. She did not exaggerate, you think dizzily as one request after another comes for a dance on your card—they are clamoring for your hand despite not having seen you anywhere in society for several years. It doesn't matter to them that you've been abroad, taking care of your ill grandmother. It doesn't matter to them that beyond your dowry you don't have that much money to speak of, most of it having gone towards her care. All that matters are rumors—rumors of your intelligence, rumors of your beauty—and the fact that the queen has named you her diamond.
There's poetry there too, scathing and elegant and itching to flow from your fingers, but you will just have to hold it back for tonight.
You do your best to look through the suitors, politely making conversation with those you allow to catch your eye, carefully passing your gaze over those you do not know or those you have heard will not treat you well. Your dance card fills rapidly even before the orchestra’s preludes are over and you've had too many offers of lemonade to count, and you're about to look at your mother—who's been patiently guiding you through the crowd, thank goodness—for some sort of excuse to clear your mind before the dancing starts, but just as you turn your head, a pair of eyes catches yours.
Your mother's grip tightens on your arm. You don't even need her frantic whisper to understand just who has come to seek a dance.
Yeonjun Choi. Duke of Hastings. The most eligible bachelor in this room, in status and in wealth.
Newly seeking a wife this season.
He comes forth, moving through the crowd with surprising ease. The other suitors seem to part for him, though you can see a few throwing him annoyed glances. He's handsome, ridiculously handsome—tall, with lush dark hair and captivating eyes. Your heart skips a beat.
No poetry there. Just a cliche, and an overused one at that.
But so very accurate in this moment.
“Miss L/N.” The duke stops in front of you, a brilliant smile on his face. “I don't believe we've met.”
“Your Grace.” You dip into the curtsy that has now become second nature to you and your legs. “I don't believe we have. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Modest, I see.” The smile grows wider. “I have heard tales of your beauty and wit, Miss L/N. I see your beauty has not been exaggerated—” you have to try hard not to topple over right then and there— “and had hoped to experience the pleasure of your conversation for myself, if it so delights you.” He dips his head in acquiescence. “That is, assuming your dance card isn't already full.”
Oh, he's good. Knows exactly how to flatter just enough that it seems genuine, but not so much that it becomes overkill. Your knees feel slightly weak—if it weren't for your mother holding you up, you think you might have fallen in between his compliments and smooth words, and if he had, you're pretty sure the duke would have caught you in some suave, gentlemanly way—and that is absolutely not something you should be imagining because your face already feels too hot just from his stare and you have words that you need to say.
“You are too kind, Your Grace.” You bow your head in acknowledgement of the praise, thankful for the practiced smile that never falls from your lips. “I believe I still have a few dances left on my card, if you should wish to take one. Perhaps the quadrille?”
“That sounds perfect,” he agrees readily, lifting the card around your wrist and quickly signing his name. When he drops the card, you go to pull your hand away but he catches it before you can, grip gentle but unrelenting as you look up in surprise.
Your entire body seems to freeze as he gazes into your eyes, that gentle smile still present on his lips.
“Your dance card is quite full, Miss L/N,” he says, still not letting go. “Take care not to tire or injure yourself by the end of the night.”
You nod slowly, not trusting your voice to speak at all. If you did, you might squeak, or something equally embarrassing.
His smile widen. “Until our dance then, my lady,” he says.
And presses a kiss to your fingertips.
. . . . .
Straightening his cravat, Yeonjun looks in the mirror one last time before meeting his mother in the estate's entryway. “Shall we?” he asks, holding out his arm.
“Not so fast.” She pushes the arm away, levels a scrutinizing eye over every piece of his outfit, from his styled hair to the tips of his shoes. “Acceptable,” she finally says, though Yeonjun can see the pleased glint in her eye.
“Only acceptable?” he teases back, pouting his lips heavily. “Am I not the most handsome son a woman could ask for?”
“Of course you are.” The mock crotchety look on her face melts away, replaced with fondness that makes Yeonjun's heart ache as she reaches up to touch his cheek. “I'm so proud of you, my son. Look at you—you've grown up so well, and now you're on your way to finding a wife, too.” She sniffs, bringing out the handkerchief she always carries in her sleeve. “Your father would be so proud to see you now.”
“I hope so, Mother.” Yeonjun smiles, holding out his arm once more. “Shall we go now? We should take care not to be late.”
The carriage ride to the park takes place mostly in silence, his mother quietly speaking with her attendant on one side while Yeonjun stares out the window on his. Streets flash by and he takes note as they approach the park where the two of you are to promenade today.
Some part of him is relieved that you agreed to his invitation. Though Wooyoung was right—he was the most eligible bachelor through and through that night at the ball—it was hard not to feel the sting of competition as he watched you dancing throughout the night, seemingly never tiring even once as you stepped gracefully across the ballroom in the arms of so many men. Just by watching, he could tell you were an incredible dancer, and when it came his turn to spin you in the quadrille, his opinion of you only increased tenfold.
Yeonjun knows he's a good dancer. He enjoys it, really, in a way not many of his friends do—it's fun to whirl about the ballroom in these practiced movements—calming, even, when he doesn't have to worry about beady-eyed mamas trying to hunt him down every second. But you—you floated about the ballroom as though you were made of air, your dress rippling in the light as though it was made of water. Not once did you stumble, which Yeonjun could have forgiven once or twice given that you'd never danced together before, and not once did you falter in the conversation he kept up even though you'd been dancing for at least an hour already.
The praise heaped upon your dancing and demeanor were not exaggerated, not in the slightest. So he wasn't exactly surprised when he arrived at your estate the next day and found a clamoring of suitors lined up outside of the calling room, flowers in hand and sweet words on their lips. When it was his turn to meet you, all the blooms scattered about the room made something strangely akin to jealousy twitch in his chest.
But it was a good opportunity to observe you after having accepted so many calls. You were as fresh-faced as ever as you greeted him, took the flowers from his hands and gave him appropriate thanks before settling them carefully in a vase before you. Several servants were arranging flowers in other areas of the room, but you took his personally, and there were no other bouquets he could see that had been given the same treatment as his.
“Blue is my favorite color,” you had told him as you bade him sit. “Did you know this?”
No, he didn't. He'd admitted as much. “A stroke of luck,” he'd smiled, and the morning call went on much as he'd planned.
Perhaps he will truly be lucky in this, he thinks as the carriage pulls up to the park. Perhaps you truly will be the epitome of a duchess that his mother was, the perfect woman to stand by his side as his partner in marriage as he oversees the estate his father left him. Because just from your first two meetings, Yeonjun has already formed quite a good opinion of you that many of the other ladies this season haven't managed to reach despite him having known them, or at least known of them, for several years. You are polite, you are reserved, you dance well, you speak well, and most importantly, you know how to act. Though, to be fair, he's basing this last conjecture on the fact that you didn't react to him kissing your hand—physically, at least—after he'd asked you for a dance.
Which was a blow to his ego. Somewhat. Yeonjun does take pride in his ability to fluster people—not even just women, but sometimes his friends as well—but it's a good thing, in this case. It means that no matter what you feel on the inside, you are not easily swayed on the outside. You can hide your feelings, an essential skill for a member of the ton—especially for one of the duchy.
All this is assuming, of course, that she felt anything at all when you kissed her hand, an annoying voice that sounds a lot like Beomgyu reminds him in the back of his head.
Yeonjun shoves the Beomgyu-esque voice away. That's a thought he doesn't really want to consider.
He helps his mother down from the carriage when they arrive and begins scanning the park for you and your mother. To his luck, you're standing not far away, and he gladly leads his mother up to the two of you. “Miss L/N!” he calls, letting his usual smile fall quickly over his lips. “I hope we have not kept you waiting.”
“No, you're right on time, Your Graces.” You smile, bobbing a shallow curtsy. “We merely thought it prudent to arrive a few minutes early, as we didn't want to make you wait.”
“Allow me to make introductions,” Yeonjun says. “This is my mother, the Dowager Duchess of Hastings. Mother, this is Miss L/N and her esteemed mother, the Right Honorable Lady L/N.”
“Your Grace.” Both you and your mother dip into deeper curtsies, easy and graceful. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine. I see my son's praise of your manners has not been exaggerated in the slightest.” His mother smiles, walking up to yours. “Come, Lady L/N. Let's let the young ones go ahead—I don't think I'll quite be able to keep up with them on these old bones.”
“Mother,” Yeonjun protests. “Your bones are hardly old.”
“You don't know what you're saying,” she sniffs, winking at your mother. At her side you're stifling a laugh, and despite himself, Yeonjun can't help but feel a fond smile widening his lips. “Go on, you two.”
Taking his cue, Yeonjun offers you his arm, making sure to direct that fond smile at you. “Shall we?”
. . . . .
A week later, you stand in the same park, again waiting for the duke to join you on a promenade. He's not late, you're just early, but as your mother waits anxiously by your side, you take the few moments of silence to think.
The duke—he's never been anything but kind or pleasant in any of your meetings. He's a far cry from many of the more obnoxious suitors you've had to endure in the calling room, those whose advances you've declined while still trying to be as gracious as possible. And he is far and beyond the best option you have at the moment, and probably the best option you're ever going to get. He's a duke, for heaven's sake—the only way you could go higher than him would be if you married a prince, and you're not even sure you’d ever want to go that far. Living in the palace sounds like a dream, but there are already so many rules you need to follow as a mere member of the ton—life as royalty would be even more restricting.
But while there's nothing obviously off-putting about the duke, you can't help but want to pause a little, reevaluate this situation without him nearby to put your thoughts into a spin. He's handsome, he's kind, he's clearly intelligent, and you're sure that he will respect you even in marriage. Sakura has told you of some rumors of him being a rake, but those mostly seem to have died down around the time his father died, when he would have been assuming the role of a duke. Which means he has a sense of responsibility. But even then, it's just...
Some part of you, even though you know it's kind of ridiculous, still hoped for a love match. One like your parents had, the relationship you saw when your father was still alive. While you've often listened to your mind over your heart, your heart still has a voice, and it wants to love and be loved in return.
Perhaps the duke might give you love. You don't know. But it doesn't seem like a priority for him at all, based on your conversations at the now three balls where you've danced with him, as well as the one promenade you've been on so far. While your words flowed well and there was never a moment of truly uncomfortable silence, it didn't seem like he was interested in getting to know you. It was more like he wanted to... interview you for a job, or something.
Which is fair, you suppose. Being a duchess is a job, that much is clear. But you still hadn't expected to spend an hour detailing every piece of your studies, your knowledge of current languages and the classics, the tutors you had for music and dance and mathematics.
Love shouldn't be a priority for you. It isn't, not according to the list of requirements you have for a husband sitting in your brain. Money comes first, followed closely by a pleasant demeanor that you could live with, even if you could not eventually come to love. Yeonjun fits both. If he were to propose marriage, you are sure would respond affirmatively.
But some part of you would still scream to say no.
“Miss L/N!”
Yeonjun comes walking jauntily up, that unflappable smile still on his face. Time to stop thinking.
You force yourself out of your thoughts, dipping into a little curtsy as he comes to a stop in front of you. Your mothers immediately draw towards each other—they've become great friends as far as you can see, which is one good thing that has come out of this—and so you take Yeonjun's proffered arm with a smile and allow him to lead you onto the pathway.
He asks you the usual questions—how are you, how is your mother, nothing untoward has happened since we last met, has it? You respond in kind, mouth moving automatically through the pleasantries, and then a short silence falls.
It's hard not to fall back into your previous thoughts, with the duke right on your arm. Everything about your recent meetings suggests he will propose by the end of the season, and you should be glad for it. This was what you wanted, was it not? Financial stability, and a husband who would be kind, at the very least.
Maybe you didn't expect how clinical this would all feel. Or maybe you underestimated how much you really wanted a love match.
“You seem preoccupied, my lady.” Yeonjun looks over, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Is something the matter, Miss L/N?”
You press your lips together. You've honed the art of conversation for years, but right now, you're not sure if you should broach the subject of your feelings. It might not be the best idea—you don't want to turn Yeonjun away, not at all—but he seems like a straightforward person, generally. His little interview-conversation during your last walk only affirms that.
“During our last promenade,” you say quietly, nodding at a few girls who pass by. “I will be honest. It sounded more like a job interview, Your Grace—or at least what I imagine a job interview would be like. Not quite the conversation one would have on a simple walk.”
Yeonjun looks at you long and hard. For one nerve-wracking moment, he says nothing.
“Was it displeasing to you?” he finally asks. “If so, I apologize.”
“Not at all.” The dismissal falls easily from your lips, easily enough that you can almost believe it wasn't a full lie. “I suppose I was simply not expecting to be quizzed on my knowledge of Latin and Greek for an hour.”
The duke reddens slightly at that. “Surely I did not only speak of the classics for so long.”
“You didn't, Your Grace. I exaggerate.” You laugh a little. “I only wondered what exactly you were looking for in me during that time.”
“Would you like the truthful answer?” the duke asks, suddenly serious.
You blink. “If I were to say no, what answer would you give?”
He smiles a little. “Something flowery, perhaps. Something that would avoid the question and leave both of us unsatisfied. But you wouldn't want that, I think.”
“You're right.” He is. “I wouldn't want that.”
“Then I will be honest with you.” Yeonjun sighs. “I am a duke, and whomever I marry will be duchess. It is not a title to be taken lightly—we would be responsible not just for the estate, but also for the people of whom we are charged to take care. It is not the same as, perhaps, being the lord and lady of a manor. There are greater responsibilities.”
“I see.”
“There are two important things to being one of the duchy,” Yeonjun continues. “One is to be a good duchess—being able to run the household as well as assist me in any affairs that might need another hand, which in all honesty are many. The other is to be perceived as a good duchess. And that is where most of my questions come in hand.”
“I... see.” You slowly nod your head.
“My mother was one of the most accomplished women of her generation.” The two of you glance back at the duchess, who's still talking animatedly with your mother. “She knew all the languages that you do, could play the pianoforte well and even the violin, somewhat. Beyond the fact that my father loved her, she was also well suited to taking care of the estate, and she partnered with him well. She was seen as a duchess who was capable, and she proved it as well.”
Yeonjun turns back to you. “Miss L/N, forgive me for being frank—I have heard of your family situation. Correct me if any of this is wrong, but I believe that beyond your dowry, there is not much money left to take care of all of you without relying on others.”
You swallow. It was blunt, but he isn't wrong.
“But I am not looking for money. Heavens, my family has enough of that.” He laughs a little. “I am looking for someone who can be that partner for me, and based on our meetings so far, I think you are the only one of the eligible ladies this year—possibly in several years—to be able to handle all of this.”
Your head is starting to spin a little. Everything he's said so far makes sense, and you understand where he's coming from, but it's starting to sound—it's starting to sound like he's proposing to you right now—
“I will be honest in that I am not looking for love. If that is an expectation of yours, I will not be offended if you choose to seek someone else.” He pauses on the pathway, fixing you with his gaze. “But you are, I believe, a partner with whom I could be satisfied in navigating the rest of my life.”
He said so much. You took in everything that he said. But for some reason, the only words that continue to bounce around in your head are I am not looking for love.
Which is—ridiculous. You aren't looking for love either—at least, you shouldn't be. Your first priority is to secure financial stability for your family. Anything beyond that would be a plus. But you can't deny the slight sinking of your heart, the way you can feel all of your childish, sappy little daydreams sinking to the bottom of your skull...
You take a deep breath, force a lightness to remain in your tone. “Your Grace, this is beginning to sound like a marriage proposal.”
The duke's gaze doesn't waver. “If you'd like it to be, then it is.”
You're still holding his arm. It's all you can do to keep from clenching his elbow with a vice grip because you really think you might fall. You've gotten a marriage proposal—from a duke—in a matter of days—
“Allow me to be honest as well, Your Grace.” You swallow hard. “I am not looking for love either. My primary interest is securing a source of financial stability for my family, now that we no longer own our estate. It is not to look for love.” It's not a lie, you tell yourself even as the words burn slightly on your tongue. At least not completely. “However, while our values do seem to align, and I am extremely flattered by your proposal, I will ask that you wait a little longer for me to give you an answer. We have only known each other for the best part of three weeks. I would simply like some time to get to know you more.”
“That is a fair request.” Yeonjun inclines his head. “Don't worry—we do not have to treat today's conversation as a proposal at all, Miss L/N. If it so pleases you, I will ask again in a few weeks' time. Until then, please only think of our words today as a suggestion or an explanation of my thoughts, not as anything concrete. Your answer when I ask again will be the only one I consider.”
It's a better reply than you expected. He doesn't seem offended at all by your hesitance, and he was honest. There isn't much more you could want, not from a man such as he.
Part of you knows that if he'd demanded an answer right now, you would have said yes. That same part of you knows that your answer isn't likely to change even with a few weeks—this is the best offer you will receive, from a man who is both respectful and handsome and doesn't care about your relative wealth status compared to his. But it's fast, you think, too fast—you can't sign your life away after only knowing him for less than three weeks.
It has absolutely nothing to do with the twinge in your chest whenever you remember he has no intention of marrying you for love.
“You are very kind, Your Grace.” You smile at him. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Of course, Miss L/N.” He smiles back, oblivious to the thoughts still spinning around your mind. “Shall we continue our walk, then?”
. . . . .
When Yeonjun wakes up, there's a sense of urgency in his chest that doesn't match the lazy light beginning to filter through the curtains against his window, a slight nervousness that doesn't quite make sense. His eyes blink blearily, searching for the clock—it's only eight. He hasn't missed anything important. His first engagement won't even be for three more hours, he can close his eyes and sleep for a little longer—
Engagement.
His eyes snap wide open.
Today is the day he's going to propose to you.
Heart hammering, he sits up in bed, shaking loose strands of hair out of his eyes. Quickly he dresses, all the while trying to think of everything he'll need for tonight and coming up with absolutely nothing except for the ring, which is snug in the pocket of his pants. He pulls it out, holds it up to the light.
Polished gold, a set of pearls laid into the metal surrounding a single small diamond. It has been in his family for generations—his mother had worn it until a few years ago, when she had decided that Yeonjun needed the reminder that he was to choose a wife soon. He stares at it, watches it shine in the early morning light, before sliding it safely back into his pocket. Nothing will happen to it, he tries to reassure himself. Absolutely nothing.
And nothing does happen to it throughout the day, thankfully, not during his meeting with the solicitor, not while he flips through finance sheets at his desk, not while he dresses once more for the dinner your mother has invited him to tonight. He'd spoken with her a few days ago, called on her in private while he knew you would be busy at the modiste, and asked for her permission to formally propose. She was the one who'd suggested the dinner as a way for him to ask the question to you in a somewhat private setting.
There should be no problem. All through the carriage ride to your estate, Yeonjun tries to calm his beating heart as his mother gazes at him amusedly from the other side. “Stop looking at me like that,” he finally says. “Mother.”
“I can't stop looking at my only son right now,” she scolds. “Not when he looks so handsome and ready to propose to his future duchess.”
Future duchess. Yeonjun takes a breath. Yes, you're to be his future wife and his duchess. The thought is surprisingly nerve-wracking.
It shouldn't be, though. He's had his mind set on you since that first conversation with Soobin at the club, since he met you at the first ball of the season. He's done everything this season with you in mind—he should be used to the idea of standing by you as your husband, you as his wife. Him as your duke, and you as his duchess.
His heart begins to calm. Yes, there's no reason to be nervous. The only reason you put off the question when he first suggested it was because you felt it was too early, and that's understandable, given it had only been three weeks and Yeonjun hadn't even meant to propose, really—it had just sounded like it, and you, ever perceptive, had picked up on it. It's been four weeks now since then, and he's danced with you at seven more balls, promenaded with you five more times, and you've already dined once at his estate with some of his extended family. He's asked your mother for permission. Everything will fall into place.
“Do you think she'll like the way I look?” he asks, winking obnoxiously at his mother.
She laughs. “There is no way she could refuse you. Why, if she isn't already in love, she'll have fallen for you by the end of tonight.”
The smile freezes on Yeonjun's face. Love, yes. The very thing he hasn't been focusing on at all when it comes to you.
You'd agreed with that. He'd suspected you would, given your tenuous finances—not dire, not yet, but still not stable. Besides, love is rare. You are practical. You know that. Most marriages are of convenience. You didn't express any sort of hurt or abandon when he'd given you his honest thoughts.
But his mother... maybe she wants him to be in love.
“Yeonjun?” She leans forward slightly, eyes narrowing. “Is everything all right?”
He blinks. “Of course,” he replies. And just then, the carriage rattles to a stop in front of an estate that has by now grown familiar, giving him the perfect excuse to avoid any other questions she might ask. As soon as he can, Yeonjun hops down from the carriage and holds out a hand for his mother to take. “Let's go, Mother.”
. . .
The dinner goes well. Your mother placed him next to you, and the two of you speak amicably through the evening as your mothers chatter at the end of the table. With every word that comes out of your mouth, every little laugh and witty jab, Yeonjun only grows even more sure that you are the one who should share the duchy with him.
When the dessert has finished and the last plate cleared away, your mother coughs subtly at the end of the table. Yeonjun takes the hint as they all rise from the table, turning toward her with his sweetest smile. “Lady L/N, I was wondering if you would allow me to solicit a private audience with your daughter. Just for a few moments.”
Her eyes sparkle. Yeonjun really wouldn't mind having her as a mother in law—she's dutiful, patient, and truly loves you in a way that is rare in this society today. “Of course, Your Grace,” she says, inclining her head. “Come, Your Grace—we will have some entertainment for ourselves in the sitting room. Please, the two of you, do join us when you are ready.”
Everyone else filters from the room, leaving it empty save for you and Yeonjun. Even the servants have gone from their silent posts around the table.
You look at Yeonjun quietly. Not a word passes from your lips, though there is a question in your eyes. Actually, perhaps not really a question—there's no way you don't know what is to happen in a moment. It's an invitation in your gaze instead, an expectation of what will come.
Yeonjun takes a deep breath. “A few weeks ago, I suppose I... unintentionally proposed to you on our second promenade.” He smiles and so do you, your eyes crinkling at his choice of words. He internally pats himself on the back for it. “You asked me for time, and I have given it. I suppose what I would say now is much of what I said then—I am looking for a duchess, a wife who can stand by my side as a partner in this marriage, who will help me in my affairs with ensuring the people of my land are treated well.”
You nod. “I understand, Your Grace.”
“It has been over a month since we met, nearly two.” Yeonjun swallows. “In that time, I have truly determined you are one of the most gracious, capable women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and I believe you will be the most able partner I could have in my journey of dukedom.” He pulls out the ring, letting the gems sparkle in the candlelight as he holds it out to you. “Will you do me the honor of being that partner, of becoming my wife and the Duchess of Hastings?”
For a long, long moment, you don't respond. Yeonjun counts the moments, counts the breaths—one, two, three, four—his heart beginning to thud the longer you go without speaking.
Finally, your gaze lifts from the ring to his eyes. “I have one stipulation in this proposal, Your Grace,” you say. “My mother—she believes... she believes we are in love.”
Yeonjun tilts his head. “I see.”
“She wants a love match for me. Always has, just like her and my father.” You heave a small sigh. “I am impartial, Your Grace. Love matches such as my mother's are rare, and I am more interested in securing the practicalities of my marriage. As we discussed before, I do not expect love from any relationship we have, but I will ask that... we pretend. In front of her.” You swallow visibly. “I don't want to deceive her, but I would rather do that than upset her.”
Yeonjun pauses. Thinks. Your mother won't live on your estate—nor will she be over often enough for acting to become a full time ordeal. You have a small home in the country, you have said, one your distant cousin has said you are allowed to live in, and while it is not far from his lands, it is not close, either. This stipulation shouldn't be an issue.
“I understand,” he says, smiling easily. “I will agree to this... act. Truth be told,” he continues, “I think my mother would like it if I were in a love match, too. Perhaps it will not just be your mother that we should act around.”
You nod once, slowly. Your throat bobs. For a moment it looks as though you have something else to say, but your expression clears so quickly that Yeonjun is sure he imagined it.
“So will you do me the honor, Miss L/N?” he asks again, taking your hand. The gold of the ring sparkles against the silk of your gloves, shimmering and pristine. “Of being my partner for life?”
You take a breath. Yeonjun watches your chest rise and fall once, twice.
“Yes, Your Grace.” You nod, and relief cracks deep and full in Yeonjun's chest, warmth rippling through his body as you smile. “I will.”
. . . . .
It hits you, exactly what you’re about to do to your future, when it's already too late.
The morning has been going—by all accounts of the situation—fine. You woke up early. Washed. Stared at your notebook that you haven't written in for two weeks, not since poetry stopped flowing from your fingertips in elegant lines and became stilted, choked, singular words instead. Tore your eyes from the leather cover and the pencil still lodged between its pages—it's easier not to question everything when you can't write about it—and left the room for a bite of breakfast before being whisked back to your room to dress.
Everything is—fine. It's fine. Everything is perfectly fine. Sakura helps you put on your wedding attire, settles the dress against your body, the gloves on your fingers, the jewelry around your wrists and neck. Light makeup dusts your face, reminiscent of what you wore to the first ball, and an elegant little flower crown adorns the top of your head. In the mirror, you look beautiful.
Or you would, if not for the fear you can see rooted deep in your eyes.
Your mother exclaims when you enter the room, hands gripping your arms as she looks you up and down. The servants stare in wide-eyed awe as you walk down to the entryway. You try hard to hide that fear from yourself and everyone else, settling into the carriage with only a wide smile on your face, and you force yourself to wear that smile the entire way to the venue as though pretending pure happiness will make it true.
You're whisked away immediately to freshen up once more. Sakura touches up the makeup, straightens the flower crown on your brow. You avoid looking at yourself in the mirror for fear of anyone—most of all yourself—seeing the truth in your eyes. Someone hands you a bouquet of flowers that compliments your gown and you thank them as best you can without losing your mind completely. Time passes, somehow, and then someone has dragged you behind the doors at the entrance of the hall where you wait for your cue.
It starts. Music begins to play. You stand behind the closed doors, fighting for breath. Yeonjun will already be at the altar, you know, his family and friends on his side of the pews. Next to you, your mother counts down the seconds, dabbing tears from her eyes when she thinks you aren't looking until she gets to one and the doors begin to swing open.
One foot in front of the other. The muscle memory that you drilled into yourself for your debut—was that just three months ago? Really only three? It feels like it's been years and at the same time it feels like it's been days—returns, and your chin lifts slightly (just enough to suggest pride, but not so much as to indicate haughtiness) as your eyes settle on the man you are to marry at the end of the hall.
The man you are to marry.
Your foot falters. You almost trip. Your mother tightens her grip on your arm and you can see her glance at you worriedly but you force yourself not to look, to keep stepping forward—it wasn't much. It didn't show. It doesn't matter, it doesn't mean anything—
Yeonjun gazes back at you from the altar, that sweet, charming smile on his face. He looks like the epitome of the perfect husband—handsome, gentle, loving.
Loving.
If only.
Your mother lets go of your arm. You both curtsy to the dowager duchess on her side, who smiles widely, and then she steps back to take her seat, leaving you to make the rest of the journey alone.
One step, two steps. The short distance up to the altar feels like it takes an eternity but once you're there, you wish it had taken longer. Heaving a silent, shaky breath, you turn to face Yeonjun.
The smile is still on your face.
Someone begins to read something, onerous and steady and sounding like utterly nothing as it passes through your head. Your fingers are sweaty and your gloves aren’t absorbent—you can feel the silk sliding against your palms as you try to readjust your grip on the bouquet, all the while staring into Yeonjun's eyes. His smile never falters.
Neither, you hope, does yours.
There's a pause in the reading. Someone appears with rings. You take one and Yeonjun takes the other. The words continue, pounding through your head, and try as you might, you can't understand a single one even though you can speak four languages—
“Do you, His Grace Yeonjun Choi, promise to take Y/N L/N to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?”
Your heart stops. That part you can understand.
“I do.” Yeonjun's voice rings loud and clear, not a note of uncertainty in his tones. The two words echo in your ears long after he has slipped the ring onto your finger, even as the priest turns to you next.
“Do you, Miss L/N L/N, promise to take Yeonjun Choi to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?”
Every eye in the room turns to you. It's like you're in the queen's hall again, about to step backward and ask your mother if that really just happened, if the queen really just named you her diamond, but where that happiness filled your heart in that moment, you can't name what you feel now.
Or maybe you just don't want to name it, for fear that you know what it is.
And that's when you realize.
You don't want this at all.
You don't want to marry Yeonjun. You don't want to tie yourself down to someone who can't promise to love you. You don't want to be married to someone who can't even promise to care for you in the way your father did your mother, the way your mother cared for your father—you don't want it, you don't want it, you don't want any of it at all—
But you promised. Even now you wear the ancestral engagement ring on your finger, pearls and diamonds that glint in the sunlight through the windows. You are engaged. You promised yourself to Yeonjun. You told him you wanted it, that you agreed with his opinions, that you wouldn't expect anything more of him when it came to your partnership.
You blink once, twice. Picture your mother and Sakura sitting in the pews. The two of them want this for you. The two of them need this from you.
And you know you would give your life for them, light yourself on fire for them, burn to ashes for them. It's why you studied for so many years, burnt the midnight oil hours after everyone had gone to bed to make yourself the best debutante who would ever grace society—it was for them. Always for them.
Slowly, even as it gets harder and harder to breathe, you swallow. Stand up straighter. Glance down at the flowers between your sweaty hands, then back up at the man to whom you're about to sign your life away.
Your voice rings out, clear and sweet, the way a diamond of the first water should speak. It doesn't tremble once. Doesn't falter at all.
“I do.”
If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3
(1 reblog = 1 hug for mc. she’s kinda going through it)
#ficscafe#txt#tomorrow x together#tomorrow by together#txt yeonjun#yeonjun#choi yeonjun#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun imagines#yeonjun scenarios#yeonjun fluff#yeonjun angst#txt scenarios#tomorrow x together scenarios#yeonjun oneshots#yeonjun fanfic#yeonjun au#txt fanfic#txt oneshots#txt yeonjun x reader#fluff#angst#regency!au#nobility!au#cw past death#if you'll have me
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allow me to paint a picture for you
titty obsessed tyun comes home to his pretty gf (chubby!reader) in a frilly little apron, making cookies. the whole apartment smells sweet and he’s eyeing you up like you’re a dessert yourself because god damn do you look good in that apron. cute little sundress underneath, plush thighs wide open for his eyes to roam. cute tummy squeezed into the confines of the tight little apron (that he totally didn’t purposefully buy a size too small so he could come home to a sight exactly like this one day) boobs barely fitting in the apron, falling out the sides cus they’re just so big and beautiful, and all for him <3
i feel like tyun would nearly pass out and then contemplate between bending you over right against the kitchen counter or teasing you for the rest of the night before he gets to the main course…
the txt x chubby!reader brain rot is real today 😔
anon!! omg so sorry it took me a while to reply but this was such a good ask on its own that i was struggling to add anything?? LIKE ITS SO GOOD 😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷
i agree the txt x chubby!reader brainrot is real, always, i think having more of these can only be a great thing plus omg taehyun with his pretty princess <333 that he keeps dressing up with clothes too small for her aaaah ;////; what a little perv… 🥺🩷
please the description alone makes my own brain short circuit so idk how taehyun would react like he’d literally evaporate he’d be thinking of all the other naughty outfits you could be wearing that would be a size too small and imagining the way your soft skin almost bursts out of the clothes…
i’m assuming you’re baking cookies for him in an apron + your clothes but i can only figure taehyun has already wanted you to just wear the apron, especially if it’s a size too small… like your cute bottom and the back of your thighs and legs being on full display just for him <33 aaaah he wants to touch you everywhere 😳🩷
he’d come behind you and whisper into your ear “my, my, baby… what are you doing in such little clothing?” before tracing a line with his fingers down from the back of your knee to your buttcheek so he can cup it or give it a slight little slap.
you hiss, never knowing what to expect from your boyfriend… some days he wants to take it slow and tease you like crazy… other days it’s too hard for him to resist you and all he wants is to fuck you against the kitchen counter…
the cookies can wait…
honestly you all never stop giving me these like i love these so much ;////; thank you so much anonie 🩷
#anon <333#taehyun x reader#taehyun smut#taehyun hard hours#taehyun hard thoughts#taehyun x y/n#taehyun x you
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The Brainrot ™ has become too much to bear, so I fear it’s time for Grandma Asteria to go on a rant.
Today’s topic: Songs that give ✨STYLE✨
These are from my personal collection of brainrot tracks. Maybe give ‘em a listen? Or whatevah.
#1: Navy Blue by Nightly
I can’t really explain this one, so I definitely shouldn’t be starting with it, but here we are! This song is truly pure vibes, and honestly it feels like the kind of song Stan would write when he’s mad pining but doesn’t want it to seem obvious. The irony? I hear it more from Kyle’s perspective (because duh, blue is Stan’s representative color so of course???) Idk man there’s just something about it that feels simple and sweet, but somehow a little sad, too? Yah feel me?
Yeah I can’t really justify this one with words. The girls that get it, get it.
#2: Anything For You by Ludo
Don’t talk to me about Ludo. I fucking LOVE LUDO. So slept on. This song in particular feels so Stan coded. Just listing all the things he’d do for his SBF. So fucking sweet and dorky, and feels so true to the lengths that Stan has gone to for Kyle. And the final lines of the chorus; ‘But the best story that I could tell is the one where I’m growing old with you’ UM HELLO??? SOULMATES??? UGH. Honestly the whole song is a masterpiece and deserves to be heard by more people.
#3: Bang The Doldrums by Fall Out Boy
I’d be remiss not to include FOB on this list, considering they were all I listened to while writing TSOB. This song in particular really fucks with the chorus, but y’all already knew that. I’m not the first person to associate this song with Style and I hope to God I won’t be the last. So so so good. I could literally talk for hours about how FOB just GETS IT. It is a love song, in their own way.
Seriously though guys listen to Fall Out Boy they’re really good and they aren’t just for recovering millennial emos I swear HEY WHERE ARE YOU GOING-
#4: 0X1=LOVESONG (I know I love you) by TXT ft. Seori
I know, it’s Korean. I’M SORRY but Tomorrow by Together absolutely FUCKS with this one I fear. The way Taehyun hits us with his ‘I KNOW IT’S REAL I CAN FEEL IT’ sends me into the stratosphere, and though I loved this song before getting into SP/Style (it’s co-written by my favorite member of BTS so of course I love it), it really shines in the context of Style angst. The gut wrenching ‘I know I love you’???? ‘Use me like a drug’?????? TXT fucking gets it, and they deserve so much love for giving me this banger to cry to while writing some depressing ass shit.
#5: Cold Cold Man by Saint Motel
Another massively under appreciated band, Saint Motel always hits. This song? Upbeat bop. Sunshine shot directly into my veins. The chorus feels like a warm hug, and I can just see those fucking DORKS serenading one another in the kitchen with it, living their sweet domestic life and just loving each other like God intended. Maybe the most perfect love song in history, so of course I’m gonna associate it with the most perfect Super Butt Fuckers. Obsessed.
#6: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane
I cannot be the only person that knows this song is MEANT FOR THEM. The quintessential best friend song, growing up together in a small town and knowing every inch of the other’s life. Shit gets complicated as they get older, but of course they always come back together because they’re SOUL!!!!MATES!!!! ‘This could be the end of everything, so why don’t we go somewhere only we know?’ Don’t speak to me. The fact that this song is NEVER utilized for Style angst on TikTok is my Roman Empire. I need old man yaoi set to this song IMMEDIATELY. Or some real angsty apocalyptic shit. I’m actually begging you guys, seriously.
PHEW! That’s all for now. I’ve compiled these songs into a playlist that you can listen to here, but every song is individually linked, too. I’ll eventually add more songs, so suggestions are welcome!
Anyway, thank you for coming to my TedTalk.
#I needed to get this off my chest#I feel better now#rant#south park#music recs#style#stan marsh#kyle broflovski
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so now for me to actually get this brainrot out of my head. I was doing my nails all evening and I couldn’t stop thinking about how taehyun or yeonjun would LOVE to receive a handjob / tease them with your newly done acrylic nails 🤭 like they’d lean back, legs spread with you between and your nails skimming their thighs. and when you start to wrap your hand around their cock they love the shiny reflection against their skin, better if your nails are red 🤪 they’d be the type to ask you to go slow just so they can see your pretty nails move around their cock, just utterly in love with your high maintenance self 🤭 I think yeonjun would LOVE to have your nails lightly dig into the muscle of his biceps, leaving moon crescent marks on his skin. taehyun on the other hand, would just love to fuck you hard enough in missionary to have you scratching his back until marks become visible, whispering filthy shit like, “that feel so good baby? mark me up, let them see how good I make you feel.”
UGH I’m so down bad it’s not healthy 🤸🏻♀️
#brainrot is real#yeonjun hard hours#taehyun hard hours#smiles hard hours#mdni#yeonjun smut#taehyun smut
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library’s masterlist
enhypen
enhypen reaction to s/o having pretty hips
heeseung
<a,f> rainstorm
jay
<a,f> neglect a queen
jake
sunghoon
sunoo
jungwon
wishful thinking
ni-ki
[ brainrots ]
<f> playing with ni-ki
<f> food fight with sunoo
tomorrow by together
yeonjun
soobin
beomgyu
taehyun
<sg> abandoned
huening kai
<a,f> waste it on me
[ brainrots ]
seventeen
seungcheol
jeonghan
joshua
junhui
hoshi
<a> crashing back into you
wonwoo
<f> tomorrow
jihoon
seokmin
<f> skit
mingyu
minghao
seungkwan
<a> cruel
hansol
chan
[ brainrots ]
#enhypen#txt#txt imagines#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#txt scenarios#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst#txt angst#enhypen angst#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt angst#svt scenarios
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back to the taehyun noonalover0205 agenda though
as a noona, i’m feeling personally attacked by him
the way he ALWAYS says noona in Angel or Devil, all these fansign clips of him enthusiastically agreeing to go out with someone older, and him referring to himself as the “younger boyfriend” in that TO DO ep — it’s SERIOUS for him 🫠
i feel like he’d really get a kick out of dominating treating his noona so well 😩 or i’m just hella projecting rn oops the taehyun brainrot is real
- 🐳
OK everyone keeps mentioning the noona x angel or deviil situation and i need y'all to enlighten me.
but yeah the younger boyfriend thing .....phew. but now definitely ur so right he'd get really into domming his sexy noona!gf...and if she's chubby??? EEEEKK!!
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Damn I'm truly back in the Taehyun brainrot
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its been around an hour since the txtenha collab stage but im STILL thinking about it ..
ss s oob i n center in mirotic ... many many thoughts
actually just txt covering mirotic in general .
AND JESUS CHRIST RIKI IN BANG BANG BANG AND GROWL he is responsible for my hospital bills if i pass out .
they literally had Zero reason putting ni-ki and yeonjun next to each other in most parts of the choreos 😀👍 its not good for my yeonjun+riki biased self
(i just needed to brainrot about it to someone and i knew you were a moaengene so 🚶)
im brainrotting rn actually 😵💫🧠 like idk if im real if i should order a ventilator like what is happening 2 me after watching that collab. scientists need to study that
MANY MANY THOUGHTS .. man my head full many so much thoughts. no bc i ,, i cant even i have no comments im head full of thoughts but also empty i can no longer generate words
how dare they ?? the wardrobe. their fits in the start oh colors and then .. and then Death they k worded us just like thT and i cant even get started on riki he .. he has been bias wrecking me and ruining my life. our lives r a joke to the legendary nishimura riki !
YEONJUN RIKI BIASED. ur biases r my bias wreckers altho taehyun has been creeping in my back lately. jungwon soobin hold hands keep me close. im actually im so BANG BANG BANG????????? sorry.. sorry that performance is stuck in my head. and fire oh god haha wait i’m getting dizzy
txt and enhypen will pay for our therapy bills!! 🥺 no thank u for brainrotting i also needed a fellow moaengene to speak to regarding this event. this collab. this !!!! this oh godh
#.🧠 brainrot#%!! sue rambles#💌.hyuckslytherin#u and me … we are the same person#and we are both oh god#moaengenes fighting 🤣🤣🤣🤣
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