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After like a year and a half I’m finally working on chapter five 💕

Amadeus | Chapter Four: The Seven

Genre: Werewolf AU, slight Fantasy AU, Musician!Reader

Pairing: Bang Chan/Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: talk of wound care

Synopsis: Chan belongs to the Order of Amadeus who work to keep the kingdom safe from the lycanthropy plague spreading among the populace. You can only hunt so long before you become what you hunt.

Y/N is a violinist in a traveling music troupe-one of the few left in the kingdom. One morning when she is practicing in the woods, a man emerges from among the trees and changes her life forever.

Down a member, the Order of Amadeus continues their mission to end the lycanthropy plague, but their missing member remains in the back of their mind as they narrow in on the worst wolf of them all.

Seungmin woke up as the first light shone through the trees. He and Chan usually were the first ones up, though, that is if Chan slept at all. There were many mornings when he would wake up and find their leader awake with bloodshot eyes, reviewing maps and the most recent reports.

This morning was different. He heard the soft breathing of his fellow Amadeus member. His eyes scanned down each one. Beside him, Jeongin slept soundly with his dark hair flopping over his closed eyes. Hyunjin and Felix slept closely together. Han and Minho each slept on either side of the fire which was now reduced to gray and black ashes. Changbin lay with his blanket pulled up to his chin, but his feet sticking out. 

Seungmin chuckled at the older man and gingerly walked to the fire to restart it. Grabbing a few chunks of the firewood they had shopped from a stump the night before, he placed it back among the ashes and crumpled up some dry leaves and dandelions he found nearby. Taking the black stone and his knife from his pocket, he led the spark to the base and watched as the fire ignited.

The warmth would likely wake up Han and Minho soon. He glanced over at the end of the camp where Chan had chosen to sleep the night before. His blankets were crumpled and Seungmin did not see their leader among them. Sometimes Chan would get up and go catch something for breakfast or get some more firewood, but considering his injuries and that they planned to eat what they carried and move on that did not seem likely. 

“Chan?” he asked, his voice louder than he would normally make it while everyone was still asleep. Seungmin heard a bit of rustling as he no longer was careful with his footsteps as he rushed to where Chan’s bedroll laid. Leaves crunched beneath him and the normally stoic man felt tears coming to his eyes as he found the blankets empty.

Looking around, he counted the packs and noticed that Chan’s was missing. That gave him a small amount of relief, knowing that he was somewhat prepared. It also meant that their leader had not turned since he likely would’ve woken them and not taken his pack. 

Despite the tears in his eyes, Seungmin hurried over to Minho—who was second in command—and shook him awake. Normally, this is something he would never dare to do because Minho could get quite grumpy. But, when Minho opened his eyes and saw the look on Seungmin’s face, any anger he held at being abruptly woken up dissipated. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately sitting up and touching Seungmin’s shoulder gently. As the second oldest, he often fell into the habit of taking care of those that came to the Order of Amadeus much too young. 

“Chan—he’s gone.”

It took them about four hours to get a message back to the Order. Even with the quickest messenger from the local village, it was hundreds of miles to the capital city, Seele. The remaining seven members of the Elite Eight regrouped at the inn they stayed at the night before. 

“He took the bandages,” Hyunjin said as everyone went through and emptied their packs. No one else spoke up, indicating he hadn’t taken anything else. 

“His bed was cold,” Minho said. “He likely left not long after we all fell asleep.” His brow knitted together as he tried to figure out what to do. It would take at least another few hours to receive instructions from headquarters. 

“We can’t leave him,” Jeongin said. “He wouldn’t leave any of us.” They all nodded in agreement. Chan would circle the kingdom a hundred times for any of his members. Yet, they had few indications of where exactly he had gone. 

“Changbin, Jeongin, start searching the village and talking to some of the locals to see if they have seen anything. I doubt he came this way, but it’s worth checking.”

The two men nodded and gathered their things. 

“Jeongin, Seungmin, you two wait here for the messenger and review the maps for probable places he could’ve found shelter within a few miles radius.” Minho did not think Chan would’ve gone far. While he was strong and capable of walking long distances and scaling rough terrain, his injuries and the exhaustion he surely felt would’ve limited him.

“Hyunjin, Han, you’re with me. We’ll head back to the forest and see if we can find any traces of him.” Everyone seemed to understand their assignments and within minutes they had fallen into their places.

Chan slept several hours for the first time in weeks. He was prone to bouts of sleepless nights that left his eyes deeply colored with unrest. That morning, he only awoke when Maria walked in carrying a plate with his breakfast—thick oatmeal, berries, and a sausage. Not much, but better than he likely would’ve had otherwise. Even though it was dinner, it seemed Maria had the idea to provide breakfast as if he had truly slept through the night. Chan was disappointed that you were not the one to bring him his breakfast, but he gave the older woman a smile and mixed the berries into the oatmeal. 

“Once you’re finished, we’ll have a look at those wounds,” she said, sitting down near the entrance of the tent. 

“Okay,” he said. “They’re less painful now.”

Maria’s eyes narrowed, but only slightly. She was hesitant to believe him. Though, she knew he was trying to be reassuring. “Good,” she said.

“Y/N said you play the flute.”

Maria nodded. She did not seem like the chatty type, but Chan wanted to see what he could learn from her. You, of course, told him so much, but he knew there were things that you wouldn’t tell him. Mainly, he wondered why a young woman like you traveled with this music troupe. 

You were obviously from the Western mountain region based on your accent and light skin. But, you were pretty enough to be the daughter of one of the wealthy mountain merchants. You should be debuting in the illustrious lodges of the mountains where wolves were still quite rare, instead of traveling with a band.

Much like his own group, he assumed something had happened that pushed you away from your home. The entire group was made up of people who seemed to be far away from where they belonged. 

“How did you come to join the troupe?”

“Chrysotomus?” she asked. 

The word was one that Chan had never heard before and he looked at her with his head slightly tilted as he brought the spoon to his lips again. 

Maria seemed to understand his confusion. “It’s the name of our group.”

“Ah.” He nodded and waited for her to continue on answering the question.

“I’d always loved playing music, but back in my day, women didn’t really do things like this. I settled down and had a family. My boys are all grown up now and my husband died some years ago. When all this wolf business started up, I took the opportunity to travel. At the time, I didn’t really care if I died, I felt I had nothing to live for.”

She paused and her lips formed a thin line with all the color disappearing briefly. “But, then, I found this group and they were all kids. I felt like I had to take care of them.”

Chan gave her a small smile. He’d finished his breakfast halfway through her story, but did not want to interrupt. The older woman was still agile and appeared not that much older than Chan’s parents.

“I can tell they appreciate you,” Chan said, reassuring the woman. He held up his bowl and set it aside. “As do I.”

Maria made her way to Chan’s bedside and began unwinding the bandages around his wrist. The wound was pink instead of red, but he could still see remnants of the blackened outline that was one of the tell tale signs of a wolf bite. 

“Ah, much better,” Maria said, again, paying no mind to the blackened edges of the wound. Grabbing out a clear liquid, she gave him a warning look before pouring it over his wrist. Chan winced as it burned into the wound. The burn thankfully subsided quickly, leaving behind only a bit of bubbling. 

She started rewrapping the wound with a fresh cotton bandage. The smell of the fresh cotton was beginning to become almost comforting in contrast with the irony bloodsoaked bandages when he’d wandered in the woods the night before.

“All right, sit up,” she said. Chan obliged, wincing slightly as he felt the muscles in his chest and abdomen contract, pulling at the wounds. He pulled his borrowed T-shirt over his head and was relieved when he was able to lay back down. 

Maria examined the fresher wound of the two. She applied both the clear liquid and another salv before helping him sit up again so that she could wrap the bandage around his back. As she finished tying off the bandage, you peeked your head into the tent. 

“Hey, is now an okay time?” you asked, seemingly both to Chan and Maria. 

“I’m just finishing up,” Maria said, looking at Chan who suddenly realized he was still shirtless. Even though you’d technically seen him shirtless when you tended to his wounds earlier in the day, his ears turned red and he reached for his shirt and slid it back over his body.

You seemed to pay no attention to his half-nakedness as you came to sit beside him. “I want to introduce you to the rest of the troupe. There’s not too many of us. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be too overwhelmed.”

Chan shook his head. “Not at all, I’d love to meet them.” 

He would’ve met them on your deathbed if it made you smile like you did when he answered. “I’ll be right back.”

Maria gave a sly smile before slipping out of the tent since it was about to get quite crowded. Chan noticed the shakiness in her hands and hoped that she was off to eat something herself.

It took about ten minutes for you to come back with a retinue of musicians following behind you. The tall, dark skinned man Chan recognized as the one who had greeted the two of you when you came back into camp. He stood closest to you and held a fairly indifferent expression, like an older brother dragged somewhere by his younger sister. Chan’s heart ached.

You started with the man beside you. “This is Anton. He’s our de facto leader and plays the clarinet and sometimes bass clarinet.” Next, you motioned to a shorter man with mouse-like features and a balding head. “This is Louis. He plays piano.”

The first two men left after their introductions and pleasantries to make room for the rest of the troupe. You pointed to two women—not too much older than you and Chan—who also appeared to be from the Eastern provinces. Though, based on their features and clothing, they came from the island nations east of where Chan himself came.

“Ayame and Ayaka, yes, they’re twins,” you said, chuckling at the obviously frequently asked question. “They play trumpet and trombone.”

Finally, you came to the last person in line. It was a young boy. He stood to your shoulder, but looked like he would one day be much taller. You placed your hands on his shoulders and smiled. “This is Benji. He’s our percussionist.”

Benji looked at Chan with wide eyes. “Did you really fight a bear?”

Chan chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“That’s so cool. Can I see the scratches?”

You quickly looked down at the boy. “Maria just finished bandaging him. Maybe you can help her next time.”

Benji looked slightly disappointed but nodded. You noticed the way the young boy seemed to admire him and were secretly glad that the boy had someone younger to look up to. Anton—while the youngest man in the troupe—was still nearly a decade older than you.

The boy seemed to grow shyer as silence fell on the tent. He said his goodbye and ran from the tent and out into the late afternoon air. You smiled after the boy before sitting back down beside Chan’s bedside. 

“We all kind of take care of him, but he doesn’t really have a role model that isn’t old enough to be his father.” You began gathering up his dishes, which he’d forgotten were next to him. As you stacked things on his tray, Anton came rushing back into the tent. 

“Y/N, we need to pack up. We’re leaving tonight.” 

You scrunched your brows together. The troupe rarely traveled at night to avoid running into wolves, especially when traveling near the forest. It was easier to stay in one place and stay quiet.

“Why?” You asked, glancing over at Chan, obviously concerned on how well he would be able to travel. 

“We just got word from the village. The Order was in town last night and one of them got bitten. They’re missing. We can’t risk staying around much longer.”

Your eyes widened. The Order of Amadeus was the entity that worked to reduce the spread of the lycanthropy plague. It meant there had been enough wolf attacks in the area to warrant their presence, and the fact that one member was now missing was nearly unheard of.

You looked back at Chan again. “Is there room in one of the wagons?”

Anton’s gaze looked past you at Chan. ‘We’ll find room.”

With that, he left, presumably to get everything packed up. You quickly took his dishes from the tent and came back. You started packing things up silently, wetting your lips as the only sign of your nerves.

Chan’s throat went dry. Word had spread. Yet, there seemed to be no suspicion on him, and even if there was, it seemed the troupe did not plan to abandon him on the edge of the woods. He watched as you worked and used his strength to sit up. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

You turned to meet his eyes. “Uh, if you can get your bedding rolled up, that would be great. Once we get things in the wagons, I’ll find a space so you can lay down.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my legs. I’m happy to walk.”

“You know that if I allowed that, Maria would not.”

“Now, Christopher, if you want to make yourself useful, roll up your sheets.”

Chan smiled at your stubbornness. It reminded him of Minho, but the thought of what his friend was probably going through right now humbled his thoughts. He dropped to his knees and folded his sheets in half and rolled them as tightly as his bandages.

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Heyy!! Love your writing so much, and I wanted to request a skz getting reader flowers but reader is allergic to them. Lots of love<333

SKZ Reaction To Them Getting You Flowers, But You're Allergic

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Enjoy! Sorry it takes me a while to do requests, but I try to always get around to them as inspiration strikes.

Chan: This poor baby feels sooooo bad. As someone with allergies and similar problems, he blames himself for not thinking of it earlier. As soon as you sneeze he'll put it together and immediately take the flowers outside, even if you protest. Once he comes in, he'll change (or just take his shirt off) so that any pollen on his shirt doesn't further bother you. Wrapping you in his arms, he promises to get you something else. The next morning, you'd wake up to the flowers arranged prettily in a terrarium where you can enjoy them without an allergic reaction.

Minho:

A lesser known fact about Minho is that he's a very good and thoughtful gift giver. He's always bringing you little trinkets and snacks from abroad. So, it is not out of character for him to bring you flowers, but with spring in full swing, your allergies simply cannot handle flowers in the house. When you sneeze and have to leave the room, he doesn't immediately get it but follows you out of the room. When you tell him it's the flowers, his eyes soften significantly and he grabs the bouquet and is gone for around twenty minutes. This time he returned with some rose shaped chocolates and he gave the flowers to your elder neighbor.

Changbin:

Changbin didn't know that lilies were so infamous for how many people are allergic to them. He simply saw them when he passed a florist and had to stop to get them for you. They were beautiful and he just wanted you to have them. But, when your eyes start watering and become red, he looks between the lilies and you a few times before getting rid of the flowers as quickly as he could. Changbin would jokingly and cutely ask you to forgive him, which, of course, you do.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin made this mistake early in your relationship--before the two of you were even official. Therefore, it's become somewhat of an inside joke between the two of you. It was your third date and he'd come bearing a beautiful bouquet of flowers that he had helped arrange. Though, it only took a few minutes for your body to react and a flush to come over your skin and tears to stream down your cheeks involuntarily. Hyunjin panicked. Luckily, you both find the whole thing hilarious now and on every anniversary of your third date, Hyunjin paints you a flower bouquet.

Jisung:

Ngl, he might cry. Jisung hates to think that he caused you to have an allergic reaction, even if it was minor. Even if he didn't, he would not hesitate to throw the bouquet away and try to salvage the situation he thinks is a complete disaster. Some part of him is even convinced that you might break up with him over this. Of course, you know it was an honest mistake and even find it a bit cute. The two of you spend the rest of the night watching anime and cuddling.

Felix:

Felix had flowers delivered to your work none the wiser that you were allergic. When he comes to your place afterward, he sees the flowers placed in a vase on the table. But, he knows something is wrong when he sees your reddened nose and red eyes. When you tell him it's because of the flowers, he chastises you for bringing them in and carefully removes them, placing them on the balcony instead. Lightening the mood with a joke about how he's the only flower you need, he holds you the rest of the night.

Seungmin:

One of the ways Seungmin shows that he loves you is by buying you small gifts and leaving them somewhere he knows you'll find them. So, when you wake up one morning to flowers on your doorstep, you know they are from him. Your allergies were hit or miss, so you hoped you wouldn't react to them. Unfortunately, an hour later, you're sniffling and have a headache. He FaceTimes you not long later for your reaction and he's so horrified by your reaction that he finishes his work as quickly as he can to go be with you. Throwing out the flowers, he brings over a few sheets from his diary--dated from after your first date and the way he felt about you so immediately.

Jeongin:

Jeongin is excited as he approaches your place with flowers in hand. His was handpicked, having collected wildflowers and a few from a friend's garden. He knew that you would love the thoughtfulness of the present and he was right, beaming as he noticed your surprise and delight at how he assembled the bouquet himself. You didn't want to tell him about your hay fever and how some of the flowers he picked you were very allergic to because he was too sweet. Eventually, though, Jeongin noticed you wheezing and met your eyes to find them red and irritated. He feels bad when he finally gets the truth out of you and he will apologize, taking the flowers back with him. A few weeks later, he brings them back dried and pressed onto a framed canvas.

Skz reaction to you having curly hair?

Stray Kids Reaction To Their SO Having Curly Hair

Genre: fluff

Warnings: slight suggestiveness

A/N: As a wavy-haired girl myself, this is def is a tad self-indulgent.

Chan:

Chan will love your curly hair and it just might help him embrace his own curls. Ngl, he'll be a little amazed at your hair care routine and all it takes to keep your curls from frizzing or tangling. Whenever his hands end up in your hair, he'll be extremely careful because he knows how easy it is for things to get tangled in it, but running his hands through your hair during a kiss always makes him weak in the knees.

Minho:

Honestly, I feel like this man doesn't have much of a preference on his SO's hair. Of course, he loves it because it's yours, but its not something that he immediately notices. During your relationship though, he'll love to gather your hair into a ponytail just to see your face better. Whenever you think your hair looks awful or it just won't cooperate, he's always there to reassure you that it looks fine and that it doesn't matter cause it will get messed up later.

Changbin:

Changbin LOVES your curly hair, especially when you wear it long. His hands are constantly playing with the ends of them whenever his arm is around your shoulders or when you lay your head on his lap. He'll love putting his caps on your head just to see how your hair looks in it. He's a sucker for you in a backward baseball cap. Changbin will also keep a list of your hair care products on his phone so he always gets the right one.

Hyunjin:

The two of you absolutely share hair accessories. One day you'll come home to find him using one of your headbands to keep his hair out of his eyes as he paints. Another day he'll find you using his clips while you style your hair. Truthfully, neither of you mind. Hyunjin rarely comments on your hair specifically, but he always goes out of his way to leave kisses in your hair.

Jisung:

Playing with your hair is a pastime for Jisung. It never gets old for him and he's constantly gathering it into a ponytail and letting it fall loose again just to repeat the process. He never explicitly says anything about your hair, but you can tell how much he loves it by how much attention he gives it. Something about curly hair will absolutely get worked into one of his sad love songs.

Felix:

Felix is all for words of affirmation and never ceases to tell you how beautiful you are, including how much he loves your hair. Like Jisung, he always finds himself playing with it, but it's in a more absentminded way. No matter when you ask him if your hair looks all right, he will always say yes, even if you've just woken up. Will one day curl his hair so you two can "match."

Seungmin:

Seungmin rarely says things explicitly. That doesn't mean that he doesn't say you look beautiful or that he loves you, it's just that he cannot fathom identifying one feature in particular when he loves all of you. Of course, your curly hair is part of that. However, if you got hold of his diary, you'd see just how much he thinks about your hair and that it is often one of the first things he notices about you.

Jeongin:

He shows his love for you (and your hair) with teasing. It's mostly harmless and he knows when to be serious. If you've done something new with your hair or gotten all just up, this man will be speechless, and any thoughts of teasing you go out the window. I mean, he can't even form words. While he may not care about hair texture one way or another, he loves your hair because it's yours.

Passenger Princess | Sana

Genre: smut, established relationship (kinda), afab reader, fxf pairing Warnings: smut Minors DNI, car sex, thigh riding, oral sex, scissoring Synopsis: On your third date, you and Sana decide to take it to the next level. A/N: I'm thinking about doing more fxf drabbles/imagines. They will all be female idol x reader/OC and probably primarily smut. I won't do smut for idols born after 2001. Feel free to send requests to my inbox. No guarantee on when/if I'll write them, but I'd love some inspiration.

You weren’t sure how you managed to convince the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen to go on a date with you. Especially after you made a fool of yourself in the dance class you met in. Yet, here you were, on your third date with Sana.

“This is kinda cliche,” she said. “An overlook of the city at night and making out in the car.” Sana straddled your hips, her skirt contrasting with your jean-clad legs.

“Mm, it’s not usually two girls though,” you said, smirking as you brought your lips down to the soft and supple skin of her neck. Sana responded with a small whimper.

When she first agreed to go out with you, she’d admitted that she’d never gone out with a girl before, but had always been curious. It seemed that she liked it so far, having been the one to initiate the straddling.

You were dying to take it further; wanting to feel and taste every inch of her body. But you didn’t want to scare her. Though, you’d never know she was new to dating women, her confidence seemed to ooze out of her at times, seemingly surprising even herself.

“Will you give me more, sweetheart?” you asked, your hands gently wandering down to where her pleated mini skirt covered her ass. “Stop me if I go too far.”

Sana nodded her head and her breath hitched in her throat as you slowly began to lower the thin straps of her silk camisole. The jacket she’d worn over top long discarded. When the straps wouldn't go any further on their own, you tugged the shirt down over her breasts, feeling yourself grow increasingly wet as you realized she wasn't wearing a bra. Of course, she wasn't that shirt left little room to.

"Fuck," you said, taking in her chest. Immediately, you palmed one, causing Sana's head to fall back toward the steering wheel. Her little whimpers and moans only encouraged you to bring your mouth down to one of the nipples until you felt it harden beneath your tongue.

Sana began to grind down against your thigh. You could feel her wetness even through your jeans. To help her, you gently pulled up the hem of her skirt until just the bottom edge of her panties were visible.

"Fuck yourself on my thigh, Princess," you said, leaning back comfortably, flexed your thigh, and held her hips to help her balance. Ever eager to please, Sana placed her hands on the back of your car seat and began to grind her clit against your leg.

"Such a good girl," you said, reaching down to pull the hem of your shirt up over your head and reach behind you to unsnap your bra, letting her take you in as well. The car windows were beginning to fog up and you were certain the car shook.

Sana's breath hitched, and she was close to her first orgasm. But, she was holding back, her fingers digging into the seat.

"You wanna touch me?" you asked, grabbing her chin with your head and forcing her shy gaze to meet yours. "Don't be afraid, Princess. Touch me wherever and however you want." Gently, you guided one of her hands to your tit and allowed her to play around with it for a moment before you grabbed her hips. The signal to begin riding you again.

"You know, the first time I saw you dance, I couldn't stop thinking about what these hips could do." You left a mark just above her collarbone and felt her come from a combination of the delicious friction and your words.

As she caught her breath, you gathered her hair in your hand, twisting it around your wrist and letting it fall again and again. Sana had never looked more gorgeous and you were certain none of her past boyfriends managed to give her an orgasm like that with their dicks.

"You want to try eating my pussy, Princess?" you asked, reaching for the button of your jeans and pulling them down your thighs.

"Yes," Sana said. "Just tell me if I'm doing it wrong."

You smiled. "Don't worry about that." It was honestly cute how worried she was about pleasing you. You went into this knowing she was new to dating women and--if you were being honest--knowing you were the first girl to get her in this state of undress turned you on even more.

You moved your seat back all the way to make room for Sana to crouch in front of her. Sliding off your panties, you tossed them aside and spread your legs for her. Now that you were fully naked for her, a darker look took over her normally sweet brown eyes.

Sana wasted no time diving into your pussy. It almost surprised you the veracity she went in with. She started off by sucking on your clit; her hands clawing down your thighs. You let out a moan which seemed to only make her want to go harder.

Replacing her tongue with her fingers, she brought her tongue to your slit, drinking in your wetness and tonguing your slit like an absolute pro. You took her hair into your fist and used it as leverage to grind up into her tongue and chase your high.

"Fuck, Princess, you sure you've never done this before? You're a natural." Sana barely seemed to register what you'd said, too drunk on your pussy. It only took her a few more minutes to get you cumming.

When she pulled away and look at you, your juices covered her lips and--in your opinion--there was no sexier sight when she swooped her tongue across her lips to clean you off of her. But, it also had you already rearing to go again, needing to fuck her properly now. Without your normal supply of toys, it left you with one option.

"Lay back," you said, moving from the driver's seat and helping her lean the back all the way down. Pulling off her skirt and panties, you looked down at her pussy, nearly groaning just from the sight of it swollen and throbbing; needing a release.

Situating yourself above her, you brought your pussy down onto hers, grinding hard and fast against her. You groped at her chest and let your eyes sweep over her entire body and where you connected.

"Fuck, I'm going to make you into such a pretty little slut, Princess," you said, biting your lip as you felt your orgasm approaching.

"Yes, use me for your pleasure, please," Sana cried out. It was the encouragement you needed to get you both cumming and collapsing on one another at the same time.

"I cannot wait to get you home."

hi lovely, hope ur ok :) can I request skz reacting to their s/o being a metalhead? It's okay if you don't do it <3

SKZ Reaction To Their SO Being A Metalhead

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks for the request! I had no idea I had requests coming in as I most often check Tumblr on my phone and idk but it just didn't allow me to see them there. I'm slowly going to work through them :) I'm currently working on a cross-country move and preparing for grad school. Things might be sporadic, but I'm going to try and get most of the requests done.

Chan:

As expected, he's perfectly supportive. He listens to some metal himself, but certainly wouldn't consider himself a metalhead. He'd add a few of your favorite songs to his playlist and he'd keep an eye on any metal concerts coming to town. He would probably end up getting weirdly inspired, possibly even write a metal song just to make you smile. If it makes his SO happy, it makes Chan happy.

Minho:

He'll likely tease you a bit. However, you will also come home to merch folded neatly on your bed with a small note on top. Minho wouldn't mind if you listened to metal sometimes, even if he wasn't necessarily a fan himself. Though, he will jokingly create choreography for one of the songs you listen to most which never failed to make both of you break out into giggles.

Changbin:

Oops, you just inadvertently introduced Changbin to his new favorite gym music. Like Chan, the producer side of him listens to the technical aspects of the music and may even get a bit nerdy and explain them to you. He grows to be a casual fan and will definitely go to shows with you or listen to the newest album with you. And, of course, the two of you will regularly work out to a perfectly curated metal workout playlist.

Hyunjin:

For Hyunjin, this is an opposites attract sort of situation. It's not that he doesn't respect the music, it's just not his style. He has a few songs he likes, but ultimately it's just not for him. However, he loves seeing you get so excited and passionate about it. Hyunjin doesn't mind if you talk to him about the latest release or an upcoming concert. Perhaps the two of you will open each other up to new music.

Jisung:

Low key, he finds it hot. He tries to hide just how hot he finds it, but it's not difficult to tell. Jisung's favorite thing about you is how you have such as sweet, cute face, but your headphones are blasting metal. The juxtaposition was part of what drew him to you in the first place. Jisung tries to keep up on the latest news so he can talk to you about it and even buys a couple of metal band T-shirts for himself just so you will steal them.

Felix:

Honestly, Felix is pretty chill about it. At one point, he'll use his deep voice to mimic one of the songs and it then became a game to see if he could repeat parts of the song back to you. Normally, it started off with you being impressed and ended with a blushy Felix and the two of you giggling. Like Chan, he'll go to shows with you and loves to spoil you with merch and metal related gifts.

Seungmin:

Indifferent--or at least--it seems like he's indifferent. Seungmin never really showed interest in the music genre himself, but he did know you liked it and would subtly find ways to include it within your relationship and everyday life. He probably has some sort of spreadsheet that lists your favorite bands, songs, etc. He wants to make sure he gets everything right. Also, stalks your Spotify so he can add some of your favorite songs to joint playlists.

Jeongin:

Like Minho, he might tease you a bit, but ultimately it makes him all smiley and blushy when you get excited about it. Asks you to take him to a concert/show him your favorite album because he wants to learn more about the things you like/love. Also, get ready to up your metalhead style. Jeongin might even have a metal style Pinterest board queued up and will help you live your best metalhead life in style.

Dangerous | Chapter 11: Blossom [Final]

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Bad Boy!Jimin, Bartender!Reader College AU

Pairing: Jimin/Named Reader

Rating: M | Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: missing cat, references to insecurity/regret

A/N: I finally got this series fully posted! Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy the last chapter.

The world stood still. You pulled the covers back on your bed, opened every cupboard, pulled all the clothes from your dresser drawers. Jackson was not in your apartment.

Cursing to yourself, tears pricked out from the corners of your eyes. If you hadn't been so focused on the plan, so determined to make Jimin hate you once and for all, maybe you would've noticed the little kitten slipping out the door.

When your head stopped buzzing like an attacked beehive, you found yourself on the floor of your bedroom, surrounded by your clothes and shoes. Grabbing the nearest pair of sneakers, you put them on and threw on a jacket.

It was beginning to get dark, twilight starting to settle in across the city. Panic rose in you once again, Jackson could be nearly anywhere by now. Found by a friendly passerby, in an alleyway like where you found him, or worse, hit by a car or chased by stray dogs.

The fear of what you would find caused your arm to go limp when you grabbed the doorknob, legs frozen to the floor.

[][][]

Jimin managed to get out of bed and make himself dinner. His mind full of you. He couldn't forget the way you felt underneath him, the sound of your hitched breaths, and quiet curses.

You were beautiful and his head hurt from the way you'd left. He should've expected this. And really, he deserved it. His biggest mistake was letting you go, tricking you, and humiliating you.

He realized it before you came back into his life that night at the club. Jimin realized it almost immediately. Watching you run off into the woods, seeing the realization and hurt cross your face nearly simultaneously.

"Fuck," Jimin said, the memories of driving around that night coming back to him. He remembered that he circled that patch of woods until he was almost out of gas and it was three in the morning.

Jimin had no idea how you managed to get home. He still felt a lump in his gut at the thought of you walking all that way. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at his phone as it lit up with an email notification.

It was nearly two am, but it was from the Dance Department. The audition results.

Jimin fumbled as he reached for his phone. Not since he was the one waiting for the results did he care so much. He knew your name would be there, it had to be. Even if you never talked to him again, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to get accepted into the program.

While the TAs got to provide written arguments for who they believe should be accepted, it ultimately came down to the professors on the panel. Jimin had seen the way the judges nodded during your performance, the few notes about mixture of style.

He opened the email and scanned the list of names, smiling when he noticed yours among them. Jimin wanted to call you, wish he could see your face light up when he told you the news, but you were probably asleep by now.

Just as he was about to place his phone down, thinking he should probably go to bed, his phone rang. Your name lit up the screen.

"Inna?" he said, his voice wary.

"Jimin, I came home and I can't find Jackson anywhere. I think he might've gotten out. And I don't know what to do. What if he got hit by a car? Or what if he's cold and scared somewhere? I—"

"Are you still at your place?" Jimin asked, already beginning to throw on a pair of jeans and a T-Shirt. Your voice was laden with sobs, cracking with already shed tears.

"Yes," you said. You sounded so small and Jimin felt a pang in his chest.

"I'm on my way. Just stay put, okay? Don't go looking for him alone. I'm gonna bring Tae, too."

Jimin was tempted to stay on the phone with you. He didn't trust that you weren't already hitting the sidewalk and going down strange, dark alleyways in search of your beloved kitten. But, he needed to round up some help first. Starting with his best friend and roommate.

"Wake up," Jimin said, pulling the covers off Taehyung. He'd insisted on sleeping on the couch after coming back to find the two of you in a rather compromising position with the smell of sex in the room.

Taehyung looked up at his friend with tired, confused eyes. When he met Jimin's, he knew something was wrong and got out of bed.

[][][]

It turns out Jimin had reason to worry about you hitting the streets on your own. When he hung up after promising to come, you didn't have time to explain that you already stood a block away at the entrance to an alleyway.

You were familiar with this particular alleyway. It was on the way between the bar where you used to work and your apartment. Carrying a pouch of treats, you shook them, rattling them like maracas.

"Jackson," you said, your voice high pitched and soft. You tried to hide the shake. "Kitty, kitty. Where are you?"

You expected him to go back to a place similar to where you found him, an alleyway or dumpster. Even though Jackson had begun to fill out since you'd adopted him, he will still small and would be able to squeeze into places he may not be able to get out of.

A dog barked and the cold reality of the night air ran down your spine. There were quite a few stray dogs in the area or dogs that owners watched haphazardly. Jackson would never be able to outrun one.

Tears pricked at your eyes and you felt pathetic. You hated crying and it seemed to be the only thing you were good at these days. Walking out of the alleyway, you caught site of Taehyung's huge, tan car driving at a definitely illegal speed towards your apartment.

You ran back out on the sidewalk and Jimin seemed to notice you as you watched the car come to an abrupt stop about a block away.

Parking along the street, you started walking towards the car and watched as Jimin and Taehyung climbed out. Jimin looked wide awake, his eyes widening as they caught sight of your tear laden eyes and messy hair. Taehyung, on the other hand, looked barely awake, his eyes still half closed and he wore a pair of silk pajamas with slides.

"I told you not to go out on your own," Jimin said, his hand immediately coming to your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, though the way you shouldn't meet his eyes proved differently. You weren't sure whether it was the embarrassment from earlier that night, or that you didn't want him to see the worry and hopelessness that took over your features.

"He's been gone too long," you said. "He could be anywhere now."

"Hey, you know Jackson. He gets scared on his own. I doubt he wandered off too far." Jimin wrapped his arms around you and brought you to his chest. You felt his hands leave your body as he motioned for Taehyung to look around. "I've called in some help. It shouldn't take them too long and with everyone's help, we'll find him, love. Don't worry."

He placed a small, barely there kiss in your hair. You felt a rush of cool night hair suddenly pierce through your clothes, causing you to lean more into Jimin's embrace. Despite having been in his arms just hours before, it felt different. It felt like you were two people wax molds of one another.

You didn't start out fitting together. Two blocks of wax that required a little warmth and a little pressure to bend this way and that, eventually coming to match each other.

Calming down, you started the search again, walking back towards your building to search closer to home. Jimin was right. Jackson wouldn't have wandered far on his own.

Jimin lagged behind you. You occasionally heard his soft calls as the two of you paused at alleyways or peaked under parked cars. But otherwise, he was silent.

"Inna," he said, eventually. "Have you seen the audition results yet?"

You stopped. The city was silent around you. Not even a distant siren or car horn could be heard. You shivered, rubbing your bare legs together. You hadn't even changed before you noticed Jackson was missing. Throwing on a flannel, you'd run out the door.

"No," you said, having not remembered they come out that night. You'd been too wrapped up in your plans to get revenge on Jimin and then later on, too wrapped up in Jimin to remember.

"Do you want me to tell you if you got in?" he asked.

"Is this really the right time for this, Jimin?" Your voice rose an octave and you felt your nose becoming congested at the thought of crying once again.

"You got in."

It felt like an earthquake was splitting the sidewalk beneath your feet. You should feel happy. You do feel happy. But it is fully eclipsed by your worry for Jackson, the embarrassment you feel after walking out on Jimin. You tore your gaze away from him and continued in the direction you were going previously.

"Aren't you happy?" he asked. His hand flew out to grip your elbow with a feather light touch.

"How can I be happy right now, Jimin? I just want Jackson back. I want to stop feeling—everything."

Jimin's dark eyes softened in the same way he'd looked at Jackson when you found him in the alleyway.

"Inna—"

Jimin's phone rang. He answered it, seeing it was Namjoon who had come to help search. Few words were exchanged before Jimin held out his hand and nodded in the opposite direction.

"They think they found him," he said. "But they need us to confirm."

Your heart soared. Taking Jimin's hand without a thought, you ran in the other direction. It was only just over a block away, but the two of you were catching your breath as you saw three of the men Jimin had called in to help.

It was a little funny to see all of them together outside of the club. Namjoon looked tired but was the only one who had bothered to completely change out of his pajamas. Taehyung stood beside him, a little more awake than when you first saw him. Finally, Hoseok was the furthest away from you and the deepest into the alleyway, greeted you with a smile. You wondered if he had even gone to bed yet, considering the easy smile and the lack of bags under his eyes.

Taehyung held something in his arms and you recognized the form of a kitten. You approached him and your stomach sunk as you saw the kitten. It was obviously not Jackson. The kitten was gray like him, but was a tabby.

"It's not him," you said. You fell to your knees allowing the ground to scrape them. You didn't care. You felt Jimin reach to catch you, but it had been unexpected and you nearly brought him down with you. "We're never gonna find him."

Your hands covered your eyes and your breaths splintered between sobs. Jimin crouched to comfort you. Even though his arms felt like the warm blanket you so desperately wanted to fall into, you pushed him away.

"Jimin, I—I can't do this. I think I'm falling for you too and I don't deserve to."

The words tumbled from your mouth. You didn't care that the other guys were there. In fact, they hardly seemed surprised, more caught up in the charms of the other kitten.

"Who says you don't deserve it?"

"Me," you said. Your tears were drying, unable to produce anymore. "I've played a dangerous game with you and I never intended it for it to be like this. I thought I could just rile you up. Make you hate me as much as I used to hate you."

Jimin examined your face. He didn't say a word though, his plump lips firmly shut.

"But in the end, I just ended up hurting myself. And you. And now we've lost Jackson because of my obsession with getting back at you."

The other three guys came running into the alleyway. Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jin all had sweat on their brows.

"Was it him?" Jungkook asked, looking down at you.

It took only a curt shake of your head for him to understand. You stood up feeling the blood leak from your knees and onto your shins.

You knew you were a mess. You could only imagine the way your hair was falling out of its bun and your bloody knees looked.

"I need to get out of here."

"Inna! Wait!"

Jimin grabbed your wrist before you could leave, turning you around to face him.

"You need to stop running away from things that scare you." He reached up, moving stray hairs off your face. "I can still see you're the same girl from all those years ago. Thinking that running away will make me forget about you."

Your body felt like it melted into the cement. You felt every point where his skin touched yours. He looked sincere, his face beginning to look wary in the early morning hours.

"It won't, Inna. Nothing will make me forget about you."

You lurched away from him, stumbling out onto the sidewalk with a similar swagger to the guys at the club that used to drink too much. Your movements were too quick, they were futile in preventing from running straight into a man on the sidewalk.

You fell backward onto your ass. The man wavered, but didn't fall, intently focused on not dropping what was in his arms. His face was handsome and vaguely familiar. Maybe he used to come into the club?

"Jackson?" You heard Jimin ask.

"Jimin?" the man asked, turning towards Jimin.

As you stood up you heard a familiar mew. Your eyes darted to the tabby kitten that Taehyung still held, but it slept peacefully in his arms.

Part of you didn't want to believe in fate like this. That things were pre-determined and meant to be. But, a sense of relief passed over you as you lunged for the gray kitten in the man's arms.

"Jackson!"

"Uh, yeah? That's me," the man said, giving you an odd look as your approached him and attempted to scoop the kitten from his arms.

"No, dude, she's talking about the kitten. He's, uh, also named Jackson."

"Oh," the man said, releasing his hold on your gray kitten. Jackson climbed to your shoulder, resting his head in the curve of your neck. He purred.

"Jackson found Jackson," Hoseok said, laughing.

"This is why I wanted to call him Mochi." Jimin came towards you, smiling at the looks of content on both your face and the kitten's. "But someone is stubborn and now he only responds to Jackson."

"Hmm," was your only reply. The exhaustion was beginning to wash over you now that you had Jackson back in your arms.

The rest of the guys were chatting with Jackson and you overheard him say that he found him in an alleyway outside some club. You smiled and closed your eyes. If it weren't for the cool air you could've fallen asleep right there.

Jimin reached up to pet Jackson and pressed his cheek against the kitten's back. "I'm glad we have him back."

The voices of the guys faded away as they walked down the sidewalk. It was just you and Jimin now.

"Did I really get in?" you asked.

Jimin's eyes looked just as tired as your own. It seems the adrenaline had been the only thing keeping him going too.

"Yes," he said. "You do."

"Do they not like when the beginners date the upperclassmen?"

Jimin's eyes narrowed at your question. "I don't think so. Why?"

"Just asking."

And then, you kissed him.

You realized the danger Jackson had found himself in. Risking getting hit by a car, kidnapped by a well meaning stranger. All to go back to the place where he found his family.

The danger you were in when you ran out onto the streets in the middle of the night to find him. When you trusted your ex-boyfriend too much. The danger of playing with someone's fragile heart.

It was a little awkward with Jackson between your chests. Your lips met at a weird angle and you almost knocked noses before meeting his lips. Yet, kissing Jimin felt like the safest thing in the world.

Previous | Masterlist

Dangerous | Chapter 10: Cherry Sours

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Bad Boy!Jimin, Bartender!Reader College AU

Pairing: Jimin/Named Reader

Rating: M | Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: smut, jealousy, piv sex

You knocked on the door of Jimin's apartment, a tote bag slung over your shoulder, and hair still clinging to your face from dance practice. Jimin should still have one more class to TA, which should give you enough time.

"Hey Inna," Jimin's roommate, Taehyung, said, opening the door, his phone in his other hand. While you'd never formally met Taehyung, he'd gone to a neighboring high school and occasionally showed up at football games and dances at yours. "So, what exactly do you need my room for?"

"Uh--" you said, your eyes shifting across the doorway as you entered through it. "It's kinda hard to explain. But, I just need it for tonight and I'll wash your sheets."

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. Although there was no malice, only curiosity and suspicion. You watched as he pocketed his phone. "I think whatever this idea is, it isn't a good one."

"Oh, it definitely isn't," you said, setting down your bag on the couch. "But, I can't let our relationship continue like this. I need to cut it off. Rip it off like a Band-Aid."

Taehyung's eyes softened. "You know he likes you, right?"

You played with the handle of the tote bag. "I know."

"Then, why are you doing this, Inna? I can tell you like him too."

Something about the melodic lilt of Taehyung's voice brought the tension in your shoulders to its fullest height. "Because he would eventually get bored with me. I might be different than I was back when we dated in high school, but not that much. I'm still that nerdy, boring girl who works too much."

A silence fell between you. Taehyung pulled out his phone again, checking the time. "I have to go to work. Just be wrapped up by midnight."

[][][]

Jimin came home around an hour later. You sat on Taehyung's bed scrolling through your phone. You'd thought that you had at least another twenty minutes, but the class must have ended early.

You grabbed the tote bag and ruffled around until you found the vibrator. Thankfully, it shouldn't be too loud, although you didn't really care if Jimin heard. That was, actually, the point.

Listening as he kicked off his shoes and the soft moans falling from his lips. You knew he was massaging his own shoulders and stretching out his legs just like you would whenever you came home from practice.

You remained fully clothed out of respect for Taehyung but were thankful that you chose to change into a skirt. Turning on the sex toy, you parted your legs. A moment of hesitation stalled your movements.

Would this affect Jimin's and Taehyung's friendship? Taehyung was the one you knew would hurt Jimin the most. His longest friend. The only one who didn't seek you out or play into your little game. Until now, at least.

Finally, you brought the vibrator to your clit, a moan leaving your lips before you could stifle it. You knew this wouldn't be enough to get your off and your mind remembered back to the practice room where you and Jimin kissed.

Your heard Jimin just outside in the short hallway that conjoined his and Taehyung's rooms. There was no way he couldn't hear your panted breaths and lustful whines.

Removing one hand from the toy, you reached down and fished out a small packet of lube. You kept in your palm, unsure if it would be necessary yet.

"Taehyung," you said, your voice clipped and full of desperate breaths of air. Exaggerating the moans was something you were used to, your ex-boyfriend had preferred when you were vocal, even though you generally weren't.

You felt Jimin's presence hovering outside the door, two small shadows beneath the door alerted you that he was closer than you thought.

"Fuck," you whispered, your back arching against the sheets and your hand beginning to lose grip. Your lips tried to form Taehyung's name again, but they could only remember the warm and almost shy feeling of Jimin's kiss.

As you approached orgasm, sweat forming at your collarbones, your moans became less controllable. Curses falling from your lips without warning. The worst one of all coming just as you did, "Jimin."

Your eyes closed for a moment and when you opened them, light flooded in from the hallway. Curling around the figure of the man whose name just fell from your lips as if you'd summoned a demon.

"I fucking knew it," he said, reaching between your legs to throw the vibrator aside before falling on top of you. His mouth smashed into yours, his hands coming to rest on each of your cheeks. "I heard everything"

His lips moved down to your neck, the same gentle fluttering as before. Everything moved in slow motion and you barely realized when both your hands met in Jimin's hair.

"No," he said. "On the phone. Taehyung called me while you were talking."

You stopped, your legs untangling from his and your fingers falling slack. "What?"

"Let's not ruin the moment," Jimin said, his voice deep and full of rasp. You didn't want to think about how he might be feeling, or how you felt. You just knew you wanted to feel his lips on you again. "Do you want me or not? Tell me, right now, Inna."

"Yes," you said. "Yes, I want you. Fuck, I hate that I do."

Jimin didn't waste time. He pushed your shirt up over your head. His lips trailing downward quicker and quicker.

"Jimin," you said. "We're in Taehyung's bed."

"And?" he said, his lips on the skin of your stomach as he looked up at you. "You already promised to wash his sheets."

You laughed, though it didn't ruin the mood. Your giggles made Jimin smile, his expression making all the blood rush downward again. He seemed to notice and your back arched as his hands finally dipped between your legs.

"Don't--don't stop, Jimin," you said, your voice already cracking. "Please."

"I won't, baby. Not this time, I promise." His voice was hushed, a promise to himself as much as to you. "You sure you want this? I don't want you to regr—"

You silenced him with your lips. You didn't care if you came to regret it. A part of you needed to do this, needed to know how it felt to have Jimin this way.

And then you realized. Fuck.

"Jimin," you said, pulling your lips away. He looked at you with dilated pupils and messy hair. It made you smile. "Do you want still want this? After everything?"

You'd purposely flirted with his friends, made out with them, tried to make him think you were having sex with his best friend. He deserved the first time you left him high and dry. But did he truly deserve these last few months of constant rejection?

"There's nothing you do that would make me not want you, Inna." Jimin reached up and interlocked on of his hands through yours as his lips reconnected.

When his tongue pushed its way past your lips, you heard the clink of Jimin unbuckling his belt. With a swift movement, he pulled it through his belt loops and off his jeans.

"You're so fucking slow," you said, giggling as your hand swept underneath the hem of his T-shirt and over the firm muscles. The thing you loved about Jimin's body is that he took good care of himself.

You remember back in high school during that month you dated how he would skip lunch. How you'd call him and he was at the gym, just as he had been two hours before. Now, it was obvious he had found a balance. One it was obvious had spilled over to the rest of his life.

Jimin laughed at your whining and threw off his shirt and pulling down his jeans in one go. Just in his underwear, he now looked to undress you. His hands wrapped around to unzip your skirt and pull it down.

You didn't waste any time, deciding to help him by discarding the rest of your undergarments. Reaching for him, your lips found one another's again.

You closed your eyes, relishing in the day sweet taste of Jimin's lips. Coffee with the familiar burn of whiskey as if it still lingered on his lips from that first night you saw him again.

Jimin's hips moved against your own as he lined up and pushed inside you. With a whine, you reached up to clutch into his shoulders.

"Fuck, Jimin," you said, every word punctured with a breath. Moans fell from your lips of their own accord.

"God, it's so nice to hear you finally moan my name," he said. "You don't know how many nights I've dreamt about this."

His hands came to rest on your hips and you felt his cock twitch inside you as his pace grew faster and tougher.

It had been a while since you'd had sex, so you were a little more sensitive than usual, writhing around on the sheets. Taehyung's sheets. The thought only riled you up more and your own pace grew to match Jimin's.

The two of you didn't last long. Years of pent up frustration and tension finally coming to a head. You relaxed, breathless against the bed as Jimin fell on top of you. He steadied himself with his elbows, careful not to put his full weight on you.

"I want to tell you so many things," he said, resting his head against your breastbone as he looked up you. "You're so strong." His lips fluttered over your skin. "Gorgeous." Another kiss. "An amazing dancer and I already know you're going to get into the program." Kiss.

He paused when his lips came away from your skin. His dark eyes swirled like freshly poured whiskey. You'd never seen him look more beautiful. Lips swollen, hair sticking up in different directions, none of his clothes in sight.

"And I think I've fallen for you, Inna." You knew these words were coming, but it still felt as if he had lifted you above his head during a performance and dropped on the hard stage floor.

He sensed your uneasiness. Jimin's fingers quickly coming to massage your hip. "I know you're not ready, Inna. And that's okay, I'll wait until you are. I want to give you a reason to trust me."

You looked at him. Looked through him like he was a microscope and you were trying to find the deadly bacteria hidden below him. But you found nothing. Only the boy who broke your heart five years ago, admitting that he liked you.

You should feel on top of the world. You should feel like walking on air. But you only felt like you had tricked him.

Jimin knew you well enough not to take your silence personally. He wrapped you in his arms and turned so that you were resting on his chest. You let yourself enjoy the warmth, trying to ignore the thoughts racing through your mind.

[][][]

"Finally," Taehyung said. "I'm glad to see you two lovebirds finally fucked. But I'm dead tired and would appreciate it if you got out of my bed."

You moved to get up, but felt Jimin's arm tighten around your waist. He pulled the sheet up as it had slipped down over your shoulder, almost exposing your breasts to Taehyung.

"You really sure you still want to sleep here?" Jimin asked. He was much more awake than you, a smirk crossing his face as you felt his foot brush against your leg.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "I'm taking yours then."

The other man left the room and you felt Jimin shift beside you, nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck. You slow began to wiggle from his grasp and the sheets, standing up to find your discarded clothes.

"I really should be going," you said. Finding your clothes you began to redress, not able to look back at the man still lying in bed.

"Stay with me, Inna. Please."

"I need to feed Jackson," you said, your voice quiet, but matter of fact and unwavering. "I'll see you later."

Doubt over your decision swirled in your stomach. There was no doubt that you wanted nothing more than to stay in that bed, in Jimin's arms. But, he didn't deserve his love after everything you'd done.

You were just as bad as sixteen-year-old Jimin. Probably worse because you were a fully grown woman taking revenge on a man for something he did to you as a teenager. Maybe he deserved it the first time, but he certainly didn't deserve it the second, third, or fourth times.

Yet, he stilled loved you. He didn't need to say it for you to know. The way he looked at you was enough.

"Wait," Jimin said. He'd managed to put back on his jeans and was throwing on his T-shirt as he chased after you. "Let me take you home. It's late."

"No, it's okay, Jimin. I'll be fine." Before you let him object, you walked out of the apartment and down onto the street below.

[][][]

"Jackson!" You walked inside and dropped your keys and your purse on the coffee table. "Kitty, where are you?"

Normally, Jackson would come trodding out when you came home, or he was already asleep on the couch. Yet, this time, he was nowhere to be found.

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a can of his food. Opening it, you continued to call. Your mouth went dry when the kitten still didn't come.

One last tactic to coax Jackson out had you reaching for his bag of treats. You shook them and called his name a few more times. You even tried calling him Mochi since he seemed to respond to that too whenever Jimin used the name.

Your legs carried you to the bedroom. The bathroom. The hall closet. No kitten to be found.

Panic rose in your body. Your breaths hampered and your eyes growing wide. It was then you remembered how you'd left the door open longer than usual when you left.

Jackson was gone.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Dangerous | Chapter 9: Brisé

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Bad Boy!Jimin, Bartender!Reader College AU

Pairing: Jimin/Named Reader

Rating: M | Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: references to sexual assault and past injury, cursing

2 weeks later (Audition in one week)

Jimin (9:22 am): Can we please talk? Please stop ignoring me.

Jimin (9:22 am): I'm worried about you.

You locked your phone and walked up the stairs to the library. Over the past few weeks, you'd neglected your other classes because you rehearsed for the audition day and night. While that did not change, it also meant that your normal end of the semester tests were coming up. And, even if you passed the audition and got into the dance program, they wouldn't accept you without satisfactory grades in your other classes.

Making your way to your favorite corner of the library, you took out your textbooks and laptop, hoping to finish your assignments before dance class in the early afternoon. It was easier to through yourself into your schoolwork than answer your texts or face Jimin.

You'd only seen him at dance class since he left your apartment the morning after everything went down. When you woke up the next morning, you emerged from your bedroom with a headache and to the smell of eggs cooking on the stove. The darkness under his eyes told you that he stayed awake all night.

"You need to eat well this morning. Your body went through a lot." He sat down the breakfast in front of you. "I Googled everything and the drug should be out of your system soon, but eating a lot will help."

He'd practically begged to stay with you, his brown eyes matching the kitten you shared. Yet. you still forced him to leave after breakfast, not able to meet his eyes again. You spent the rest of the day in bed, sleeping off the headache and trying to prevent the memories of that night from coming back.

"Hey, stranger," someone said, taking a seat across from you. You looked up from your textbook and saw Namjoon's dimpled smile. It caused you to smile you too.

"Hey, it's been a while," you said. Namjoon didn't come to the club as much as the rest of Jimin's friends. They all said it was because he was too busy juggling making his own music and being one of the top students in the entire university. "How have you been?"

"Fine," he said, relaxing back against his seat. "Everything going okay? You seemed kinda stressed looking down at your anthropology book."

You immediately put on a smile, even though you could tell by his look that he didn't believe it. "Oh, it's fine. The audition is in a week, so I've just got a lot on my plate right now."

"You know, you should talk to Jimin about it. He went through this already, he could probably offer you some good advice."

You lowered your laptop screen halfway. "Oh, uh, yeah," you said.

"Why haven't you talked to him lately?"

"He's told you?"

"Of course," Namjoon said, taking out textbooks from his backpack. "He's worried about you and wanted my advice." Namjoon paused and looked up at you. "He, uh, didn't go into detail about what happened. Just that it was something bad--"

You nodded, seeing from the sincerity in his eyes that he had a good idea of what happened. "If I tell you why I've been avoiding him, do you promise not to tell Jimin?"

Namjoon's expression hardly changed, unfazed by your request. He gave a short nod. "So, this whole thing kinda started as a way to get back at him for everything that happened in high school. But, after everything, I don't know, I think I'm starting to like him." You felt the rock that fell into the pit of your stomach roll away when you said those words out loud. "It's not just cause of what happened a couple weeks ago, he just--he's changed."

You closed your anthropology textbook, knowing no homework was going to get done. Folding your arms over the book, you rested your chin on top of them.

"I'm glad you're starting to figure out how you feel," Namjoon said. "You know, I think Jimin would accept you if you told him."

Your gaze wandered over to the other tables where students worked with headphones in or discussed group projects. "I'm not ready to do anything about it. I want to remember how it feels to be alone for a little while." Sighing, you looked back at Namjoon. "Plus, I'm starting my new job soon and the audition is soon. It's not the best time to start something like that anyway."

Your phone alarm went off. "I need to get to dance class," you said, packing up your things. "Mind if I walk with you?"

You shook your head, smiling at the way he seemed to just want to keep you company. Walking out of the library, you headed for the Dance building.

"I'm glad we got the chance to talk," Namjoon said. "I'll let Jimin know you're doing okay, but I won't give him any of the details." The two of you stopped outside the Dance building. "Do you want to go for lunch after you audition? My treat and maybe it will calm your nerves to have plans afterward."

"Okay," you said, giggling at his obvious concern. "It's a date."

The doors to the building opened and another student nearly ran into you. When you made eye contact, you barely had time to react before Jimin gave you a curt nod and an apologetic smile before propping open the door and heading back to the classroom.

[][][]

1 week later

Nobody talked. Yet, the sounds in the room echoed off the walls. The sound of tapping feet, beats counted under breath, and the lacing up of shoes again and again. You'd considered buying new slippers for the occasion, but you had not tied them in so long, you were afraid you would forget.

"Kim Inna."

You stood and walked into the auditorium. The seats were empty except for the first row where a handful of professors sat and the three Dance major TAs. Trying not to look at Jimin, you climbed on stage, feeling the muscles in your shoulders tense. The lights prevented you from making out faces totally, but you felt Jimin's gaze on you.

You introduced yourself and got into position at center stage. The muscles in the back of your neck tensed as the music started up. Trying to relax, you began the performance, letting your body steer you in time with the music.

The first part was a mix of hip hop with a little contemporary mixed in. Nothing that would stand out. About a minute into the song, it shifts and so does our body. Your calf tenses as you move to stand on one leg, bringing your stance to balance on your toes, distributing the weight evenly across your body. Your arms straighten outwards and you extend the other leg.

It was a simple move that you practiced hundreds of times. The position didn't hurt too much, but as began twirling, you feel the familiar pull in your heel, shooting down your foot. The choreography planned for the pain and you plummeted towards the ground, catching yourself with the palms of your hands and bringing your chest to the ground.

The position mimicked the way you'd laid on stage after you Achilles snapped. Despite the pain in your ankle, your arms had given out too. Rolling over onto your back, you got up with your good leg and the strength of your core. The move had taken countless tries to perfect, your head coming up from the ground last.

The rest of the performance went by in a blur. The pain clouded your vision towards the end and when the music stopped, you looked up, only barely making out the figures of the judges. You could feel your limbs throbbing with pain.

"Thank you," you said, bowing and walking off stage. You knew Jimin would know the story you were telling. As you walked off the stage and your view of the lights shifted, you saw Jimin's Adam's apple bob with worry. You didn't have to meet his eyes to feel their worry.

[][][]

You fell to your knees once you made it backstage. Breaths tumbled from your mouth and you tried to catch them. Your eyes watered at the ache in your muscles and a sharp vein of worry stabbed you that you might have injured yourself again.

You couldn't even think about what the judges thought or if you were going to make it through. Running your hands through your hair, you tried to stand up, looking around and hoping no one was around to see you like this.

"Inna," Jimin said, his soft footsteps coming from deeper backstage. He must've come around.

You looked up at him. "What are you doing? You can't just leave being a judge--"

"The TAs are switching off," he said. "I've been there all morning."

Somehow, the conversation brought back some of the feeling in your legs and you managed to stand up, walking over to a chair nearby. Jimin pushed a wooden crate belonging to the drama department under your feet. Grabbing a folding chair, he sat down in front of the box, spreading his legs around it.

His hand came to hover over your legs. Jimin looked up at you, meeting your eyes. Lines formed on his forehead and his fingers floated in midair.

"Can I touch you?" he asked, keeping eye contact.

You nodded, allowing yourself to release your posture and slide down in the chair. Jimin's hands gently massaged your calves, working from the knees down and back up again. When he reached your ankle, he carefully took two of his fingers, gently rubbing them over the Achille's tendon.

The throbbing in your muscles dulled. The feeling of Jimin's fingers against your skin made you try to stifle the moan that left your lips.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"I'm a double major in kinesiology."

His voice sounded curt, so matter of fact. It alerted you to the way Jimin had thrown up his guard around you. Was he scared of kissing you only for you to go make out with one of his friends? Of reaching out to brush his hand against yours only to watch you flirt with another guy?

It should feel like a victory. A lift in your chest. This was exactly what you wanted, for Jimin to dance around you, feel the way you did all those years ago. But, now, you just feel like a half-rotten apple under a tree.

"Oh," you said, thinking back to when Jimin had tried to get you to dance ballet again. The way he carefully watched the way your leg shook and how he held you when you tumbled down.

"You think it's psychological too, huh?"

Jimin's hands left your skin and the air almost felt cold, empty. He stood up, holding out his hand to help you up as the music for the next audition started. You took his hand and carefully stood up, feeling steadier and the pain subsided to just a dull throb in the back of your ankles and knees.

"Pain is pain, Inna. It doesn't matter where it comes from or what causes it."

[][][]

It was 7 pm when you reached the cafe where Namjoon wanted to meet. You'd never been to this cafe before, but it was cute and had a book exchange bookshelf. It seemed exactly like the kind of place that Namjoon would invite you.

You didn't see Namjoon yet, so you ordered a bubble tea and sat down in one of the booths. You scrolled through Instagram, seeing all the gorgeous photos taken during the auditions. It broke your heart knowing that only about half of those who auditioned would get in. Many dance majors at your school auditioned multiple times before getting their spot.

The bell on the door dings and you look up, expecting to see the tall lanky man who invited you here. Instead, it was a teenage girl and her mother, who didn't notice your disappointed look as they approached the counter.

Namjoon made your stomach flip in knots in a way you hadn't experienced for years. You weren't attracted to him until he approached you in the library two weeks before. His hair laying a little haphazardly and the way his eyes smiled before his lips.

You weren't sure if you truly liked him or not and you were not ready to jump into a relationship after Chul-soo. Yet, as you unlocked your phone and saw a screen blank of texts, or any notifications at all. Your heart sunk.

The bell rings again. This time you look up and meet the eyes of Jimin, who looks as confused as you imagine you look. He runs a hand through his hair and sits down across from you.

"Have you seen Namjoon?" Jimin asked, looking around the cafe.

Your phone dinged as your lips parted to reply. Jimin's followed suit.

Namjoon (7:25 pm): You need to talk to him, Inna. I'm sorry I had to force it this way, but I know you miss him. Take advantage of this time.

Jimin looked up from his phone, his gaze looking everywhere but at you. "I-I have been wanting to talk to you, Inna," he said. You'd never heard his voice shake like that like he was about to break out into tears. "Are you doing okay after--?

You stayed silent. You weren't okay, hadn't been for the past month since that night at the club. You'd had to quit your job and find a new one, were in the process of getting a restraining order against Chul-soo, and you felt bubbling in your stomach at the thought of meeting Jimin's eyes. Things were far from okay.

You tried to hide the tears, taking a sip of your bubble tea. The sweet honeydew flavored tea and boba providing momentary relief from the sour taste of anxiety on your tongue.

"I've been worried about you. Every time you didn't respond to a text, I just worried you were in trouble. And I wouldn't be there to help you."

"Jimin, don't try to guilt me into responding to you. I want to be left alone." Jimin sighed. "I know that's not true. But, I understand if you don't want to talk to me. I just hate having to check Instagram or text Namjoon to make sure you're okay."

"I don't owe you anything just because you helped me. You know I'm thankful, Jimin. But, I-I can't trust you again after our history. I know it's stupid. It was years ago and it shouldn't matter. But, it does, Jimin." You paused, your fingers collecting the condensation from the plastic cup. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. I know you can deal with douchebags at the bar on your own. And watching you perform today, it was amazing, Inna. You're amazing. And I know you can do all that on your own. But that doesn't mean you have to."

You look down at the boba in your cup and stir it around, hoping it would somehow spell out what you should say or do. Looking back up, you met his eyes, feeling like you kicked a puppy.

"I don't want to do it with you, Jimin."

Throwing your bag over your shoulder and scooting out of the booth, you made your way out onto the street. You wonder if this was how Jimin felt when he embarrassed you that night. If it felt like his heart was shattering when he met your eyes. Getting home, you collapsed on the couch falling asleep with Jackson purring on your chest.

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SKZ MTL Date A Capricorn

Genre: fluff, astrology

Warnings: none

A/N: Since the members' rising signs are not publicly known, I am basing this off of the rest of their charts.

Most

Jisung Seungmin Hyunjin Felix Minho Chan Changbin Jeongin

Least

Jisung's chart is pretty well aligned with having a partner that is a Capricorn sun. His Virgo sun complements a Capricorn sun as does his Pisces moon. I would not be surprised if his rising is water/earth as well. Plus, when Jisung is more subdued or anxious, the right Capricorn partner will be strong-willed and when a Capricorn steels themself to reality, Jisung's more sensitive moon can help them feel comfortable in vulnerability.

Also, a Virgo sun, Seungmin, and a Capricorn partner are likely to have similar goals in life and senses of humor. His Cancer moon complements a Capricorn sun but adds a bit more spice than other water signs since they are directly opposed cardinal signs. This is not necessarily bad (though it could be depending on the rest of the partner's chart, etc.) and could account for sarcastic exchanges that no one else can quite understand.

Hyunjin has a Pisces sun paired with a Virgo moon. This makes him a good match for a potential Capricorn sun partner. Similar to Jisung, their strengths and weaknesses would work well together. Hyunjin also has a couple of Taurus placements which bode well for a relationship with a Capricorn. I think the relationship would be a fairly content one with an expected, but not unmanageable amount of strife.

Out of the Virgos, Felix is least likely to seek out or vibe with a Capricorn partner. That's not to say the right one couldn't charm him, but with his Aries moon and a couple of Aquarius placements, he and a Capricorn partner both can be rather dominant personalities. While Felix is kind and sensitive, he has his ways and doesn't like deviating from them. A Capricorn can be a little more chaotic in some ways that would not vibe with the Aries brand of chaos.

Minho has a very Scorpio heavy chart which--as a complementary water sign--can work well with Capricorns. However, I've ranked him a bit lower since Capricorn and Scorpio are both very headstrong and determined. Their life goals may clash, but they are more likely to have a strong emotional connection and understanding for one another. If this emotional bond is strong enough, Minho and a Capricorn sun partner may work out beautifully. Though, it is a delicate balance and could easily tip the other way depending on the partner's chart.

Chan and Changbin both have medium to low overall compatibility with Capricorn suns. Out of the two, Chan is more compatible with a couple of water placements, and his Libra is somewhat hit or miss based on the individual Capricorn. Despite a couple of Taurus and other water sign placements, I ultimately think Changbin's Leo sun AND moon clash too much with a Capricorn sun. Essentially, they could be too much for one another. However, in rare circumstances, depending on the Capricorn's chart and Changbin's rising sign, there is a chance it could work out.

Jeongin's Aquarius sun and Leo moon simply make him a less-than-ideal match for most Capricorn suns. Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, but unless Jeongin's rising sign is a strong Virgo, Capricorn, or Pisces, I do not see him ever having a successful long term romantic relationship with a Capricorn. There would be too much strife between them and likely an emotional disconnect necessary for a close romantic relationship.

Dangerous | Chapter 8: Cherry Bomb

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Bad Boy!Jimin, Bartender!Reader College AU

Pairing: Jimin/Named Reader

Rating: M | Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: drugged drink, attempted rape/sexual assault, describes effects of date rape drugs

The song began again. Instead of incorporating ballet moves, you used a traditional ballet piece, the one that had played when you snapped your Achilles. Even if you and Jimin had an undefinable relationship, he was right that taking back that moment that nearly took away your dancing dreams would give you a personal edge. Dances--just like any other artform--tell a story. And, this was a universal one for dancers. One that every dancer held in the back of their mind when they stepped on stage.

You had the routine worked out, mixing in the ballet positions and the occasional move you could work in without too much trouble. Sometimes you would feel your tendon shake, wanting to give, but then you would switch positions. With only two weeks left until the audition, you didn't have much time to perfect it, wanting the moves to feel like second nature by then.

The song ended and you heard yourself breathing over the music. The song started again, but your body didn't. You walked over to pause the song just as you heard the door of the studio squeak open.

Turning, you saw Jimin enter, cradling Jackson in his arms. Your face lit up and you approached Jimin, your hands immediately landing in the kitten's soft fur. Jackson still wore the cone around his neck, but you noticed it was different, softer, and less cumbersome. 

"They replaced his stitches and gave him a soft cone. We have to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't slip out of it again." Jimin handed you the kitten, taking his backpack off and pulling out two bottles of water. Opening the first one, he handed it to you. 

"Wow, you're like my fairy godmother," you said, laughing. You took a quick drink before setting it on the bench along the wall.

"Or your boyfriend."

"Sure, whatever," you said, wondering if Jimin would behave if you took off your shirt to cool off. The worst that would happen would be a flirty comment or two, so you slipped the thin fabric over your head. Jimin didn't bat an eye, surprising you. 

"Can I see your piece?" he asked, a playful smirk taking over his features. 

"You know that's against the rules since you're on the panel. You can only help me with specific questions."

Jimin smiled and came up behind you, resting his chin against your sweaty shoulder. "Then, got any questions for me, babe?"

You laughed an pushed his head off your shoulder, your fingers threading in his hair for just a moment. "Ew, get off me creep." You gave him a smirk back and turned to face him. "Why don't you show me your audition piece?"

You'd said it as a joke, so your eyes widened in surprise when he agreed. You handed him your phone and he queued up the song, taking his place in the middle of the studio. It was a slow, contemporary piece, not unlike ballet. 

You realized that you'd only seen Jimin dance in the club, never something he put together himself and performed. You'd expected something hip hop, sexy, and to an upbeat song. Rather, the piece was muted and utilized only contemporary or ballet moves. 

He spun, he contorted himself into odd angles. You saw his muscles shake at points. His lines and angles were sharp, near perfect. Halfway through the performance, Jackson climbed into your lap

"Wow," you said when the song ended. "I hadn't expected that."

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know. I guess something hip hop."

"Don't you remember that I did contemporary? I told you about it back in high school."

"I guess not," you said. "I was so enamored with you I barely listened to what you said sometimes." 

Jimin frowned and reached down to stop the song from replaying, leaving the studio in silence. Jackson, despite the loud music, had fallen asleep in your lap, exhausted from his long night at the vet. 

 "Let's get him home," you said, unplugging your phone and checking the time. "And I have to work in two hours." You picked up Jackson carefully, not wanting to wake him. Cradling him in your discarded shirt, you walked out to Taehyung's car that Jimin had not yet returned. 

Hooking the seatbelt, you realized that the kitten would have to be alone again while you were at work. You glanced over at the man beside you as he put the car into gear. 

"Jimin," you said. 'Would you mind watching Jackson while I'm at work? I'll buy you food or gas or whatever."

Jimin looked at you like he was trying to place two puzzle pieces together. "I'll do it for free, Inna. You don't have to do anything."

The worry in your chest that the kitten would once again be alone deflated and you ran your finger over the kitten's ears. "Thanks," you said quietly. 

[][][]

You sighed when you walked into work and saw Chul-soo behind the bar. This wasn't your normal shift, but when your coworker had asked you to cover, you couldn't object. especially since you were short a few hundred dollars due to the vet bills.

"Grab an apron," he said as you walked behind the bar. You stopped, surprised that he didn't have a snarky remark, or try to tell you that he didn't need your help. Based on the crowd that was hovered around the bar, you guessed he really didn't care. "You take the right, I'll take the left."

You worked beside each other without interacting too much. His weirdly amicable attitude sets off an alarm in the back of your head. But, you ignored it, wondering if he found some other poor girl to date so that he would finally leave you alone. 

People continued to line up, coming up again and again for drinks. Tabs reached hundreds of dollars and this was the kind of shift every bartender dreamed of: when the bar became an attraction itself. You'd already made that night's wages in tips and would likely double it before the end of your shift. 

"Inna!" you heard your name at the end of the bar. Normally, this sort of thing would annoy you, but when you saw Hoseok waving in your direction, you smiled and motioned that would be a moment. After a few minutes, you'd worked your way over to him and took his order. 

"Busy night, huh?" he said, glancing between you and your ex. 

"Yeah," you said. "It's nice to see a familiar face." You handed him his drink, just a craft beer this time. "You're making it easy for me tonight. Have a good time." 

Hoseok took his drink and sipped it immediately, his eyes wandering over to Chul-soo. "Yeah, you too, Inna."

You continued serving drinks until Chul-soo nudged you with his shoulder. You noticed sweat on his brow and his apron was slowly collecting spilled alcohol and fruit juice. "What do you say we bring out an old favorite of ours to get this party really going?"

You raised an eyebrow. "The cherry bomb?" you asked, remembering the drink the two of you created together. "You wanna drink it?"

"Nah, I have to drive home. You wanna do it?" He glanced back at the dwindling bar crowd. Most people were out dancing now and you were making more money than you had for weeks. You didn't want this trend to end now. Chul-soo's shift was about to end and you still had a couple of hours.

"All right," you said. "Let's make it."

You gathered all the supplies while Chul-soo worked on making it. The cocktail consisted of a mixture of cherry liqueurs, vodka, a shot glass of cherry juice, and finally a few maraschino cherries on top. Chul-soo even added a little whipped cream to make the dark red drink stand out.

A small crowd had regathered. The bartender coming in to relieve Chul-soo stood off to the side with a bemused look on his face. You were surprised at how the night had turned out. This was the most cordial you had been with your ex since before you broke up. A tornado of doubt swirled in your stomach as you brought the drink to your lips.

It was sweet and had the deep bite of a cherry. People cheered you on as you drank and a bit of the red liquid escaped and ran down your skin. Staining your lips and chin. You finished the drink and wiped your lips with your sleeve. The small crowd formed and many began requesting the drink. 

Chul-soo ducked out and handed his apron off to the other bartender. You worked to help him keep up, filling drink after drink order. In about fifteen minutes, the club was spinning. You dropped a glass and it shattered at your feet. One of the shards of glass creating a small cut on your ankle.

"Are you okay?" the other bartender asked. You heard his words and caught a flash of his dark brown eyes, but your tongue ran dry when you tried to respond. Your legs began feeling limp and your hand gripped the side of the bar to stabilize yourself. 

"Ah, she always had some trouble handling a big drink like that," you heard Chul-soo say, but you couldn't turn your head to see him. It wasn't true. This wasn't because of alcohol and your mind suddenly connected everything together.

"St--st--" you tried to form words as you felt Chul-soo's hand on the small of your back. 

"I'll take care of her, Jae-kyung. Can you handle the bar for a few minutes?"

The other bartender must have responded affirmatively because you felt Chul-soo wrap and arm around your waist and lift your slightly. He took you back to the alleyway, pressing you against the wall. 

Your muscles began to relax of their own accord. You vision moved in and out like you were constantly waking up and falling into a dream.

[][][]

Hoseok approached the bar. It was just as crowded before, but the crowd was louder. He stood towards the end like had before and noticed that Inna nor Chul-soo was working anymore. His brow furrowed, knowing Inna's shift couldn't be over. He waited a few moments to see if she had ducked into the back or to the bathroom, but something gnawed at the back of his mind. 

"What happened to the girl that was working here?"

"Oh, she did a cherry bomb and couldn't handle it. The other guy is taking care of her." 

Hoseok couldn't let it slide. He knew something was wrong and he looked around the club. Jimin normally hung around when Inna worked, but he didn't immediately see the other man. He took out his phone.

Hoseok (10:45 p.m): How fast can you get here? I think Inna's in trouble

[][][]

Tears ran down your cheeks. You wanted to fight back, but your eyelids continued to droop. The only thing keeping you awake was the sheer panic. Yet, you knew the drugs would eventually overtake even that. 

"A cherry bomb," Chul-soo said. "Perfect cover for another kind of cherry, yeah?" He laughed at his own joke and if you could've, you would've spit in his face. 

You felt your phone vibrating in your back pocket. It shut off, before beginning to ring again. Chul-soo noticed the second time and reached into your pocket. 

"Ah, it's your lover boy," he said. His face dropped as he tossed your phone away and you heard as it shattered against the pavement. "Now that that's taken care of." His voice dwindled and his lips harshly attacked the skin of your neck. His hands roamed everywhere. The button of your jeans, under your shirt, your hair. 

"You've been such a slut lately," he said. "You've forgotten that you belong to me. Did you really think breaking up with me would get rid of me so easily? You can't escape me that easily, baby."

Your resolve was shaking. You could no longer see the end of Chul-soo's hair and you felt like throwing up. Whether from the drugs or the feeling of his lips on your skin you didn't know. Your eyes closed for one second, then two, then five. And you know you're losing. 

Chul-soo unzips your jeans and you feel his fingers on the waistband. He pauses when you hear the sound of a motorcycle and there's yelling. Suddenly, you feel cold, the sweat on your skin making you feel clammy. Without another body against yours, you can't stand. 

The last thing you remember is feeling your ass hit the pavement before everything went black.

[][][]

"Inna, Inna," you hear his voice. "It's okay. You're safe now." His hands touch you like you're fragile as if one wrong move and you will break into a thousand pieces. Your body touches what you recognize as a bed and while you can't move to position yourself, you feel the covers being pulled up over your body.

 "The doctor said you'll be okay. It wasn't enough that you won't wake up." His words sounded more like he was talking to himself than you. You wanted to tell him that for once you needed him. That you wanted him to touch you, to wrap you in his arms and keep you safe, to lay beside you. But, your lips still could not form words. 

Whether it was the drugs or the natural exhaustion, sleep once again took over.

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Dangerous | Chapter 7: Hustler

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Bad Boy!Jimin, Bartender!Reader College AU

Pairing: Jimin/Named Reader

Rating: M | Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: mentions of vets/kittens needing to go to the vet, exes being jerks

You only had forty-five minutes to get to work and you were just getting on the bus to your apartment. The vet had given you a cardboard carrier since you hadn't had a chance to buy one, which only made you feel more guilty as you set the carrier on your lap and peered in at the sedated kitten. He was cuddled in the corner and rested comfortably despite the plastic cone around his neck. 

It hurt your heart to see him so out of it, but the vet mentioned he'd only need painkillers for a few days. The doors shut and the bus started moving. Luckily, you wouldn't have to switch buses, just walk a couple of blocks to your apartment. But, there was no way you weren't going to be late. 

[][][]

You walked into work. You'd only managed to change into a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved top. Still, you were half an hour late. The club was busy and you made your way behind the bar and tied an apron around your waist. 

"You're late," a voice said. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you recognized it. He wasn't supposed to work tonight. 

"Yeah, I am," you said. "I had something come up." 

"You should've called." 

"Probably." You started filling drink orders and paying your ex no mind. Chul-soo was right. You should've called, but it was a Wednesday night and usually, the club wasn't this packed. You'd just finished handing someone a beer when Chul-soo pushed you out of the way and took the tip out of their hand. 

"Why don't you just leave? I'll handle it."

"Chul-soo, stop being ridiculous. I only work like two days a week, I need the shifts."

"You should've thought about that before you were late." He reached down and ripped the apron from your waist and tossed it to the side. 

"I had to pick up my kitten from the vet," you said. "The bus was running late. I was worried about him so I didn't call. Can you stop being an ass for two seconds?"

"Becoming a cat lady now?" he asked. "I see Jimin already moved on." 

You rolled your eyes and stepped from behind the bar. With all the worry bubbling up in your stomach about Jackson, you just let it go. You were about to walk towards the door when you heard someone's voice above the music. 

"Hey!" a man shouted. He waved one of his hands up in the air and you met his eyes, after which he lowered his arm and pointed towards a quieter area of the club where all the pool tables were. This portion only had a few people, a couple using one of the tables and a few others lingering along the sides on their phones.

You leaned against one of the tables as the guy worked his way through the crowd. You'd definitely seen him at the club before. You could never forget a face like his. If only you could remember when you'd last seen him. 

"Inna, right?" he asked. His black hair was combed back, exposing his forehead. The sleeves of his button-down were rolled up past the elbows and the shirt tucked in perfectly to show off his small waist. 

"Uh yeah," you said. Despite not remembering where you'd last seen him and him somehow knowing your name, something told you that you could trust him. His eyes weren't raking over your body like most guys at the club. 

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I saw what happened back there." 

"Yeah, I'm fine. He's an ex, so he likes to be a jerk." 

"You wanna play some pool?"

"Oh, I'm not really that good," you said, shifting your weight to one foot and biting your lip. "But I'll give it a shot." 

The guy smiled and handed you a cue. "I'm Jin, by the way. I think we both know Jimin." 

"Ah, that's how I know you," you said, trying not to dwell on Jimin's name. With the way he'd avoided you, you hadn't asked him to take you to pick up Jackson. It certainly would've saved you time. But you would've had to remember how his lips felt on yours and the ways his hands were so gentle against your skin. Like he was scared of breaking you again.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I think the Jimin's we know are very different." He racked up the balls and pushed them to three-quarters of the way down the table. "But he's still kinda a dick sometimes so I'll help you put on a show if you want. Just know I'm not exactly into your type." 

"Ah," you said, nodding in understanding. "What's with all of his friends wanting to piss him off?" A laugh pouring out of you. 

Jin motioned for you to take the first shot and break the balls, thus giving you the advantage in the game. You lined up the cue and hit the ball, but the balls barely broke up. 

"He still owes me fifty bucks," he said, lining up his shot. 

You laughed, your face falling as soon as Jin sunk in his first ball, permitting him to take another shot. "I didn't see him here tonight." 

"You were supposed to work tonight. Of course, he's here." 

Just as Jin finished his words, you spotted Jimin. He wasn't far away, but probably just out of earshot. Not dancing like usual, he sat at one of the tables and scrolled through his phone. You wondered why he even paid the cover charge. Of course, you knew plenty of people who came in just to sit, but that wasn't Jimin. He always came to dance or drink or both.

Jin leaned down. His second ball was in an awkward position. He leaned over the table and carefully angled his cue. You watched in amusement as his he exaggerated his movements and the ball shifted into a slightly better position. 

You picked up your cue and looked for your first ball, which you had still not managed to sink into one of the pockets. The shot wasn't straightforward, but not impossible. 

"Careful, Inna. Don't want to fall in."  

You snorted and your pool cue slipped causing the ball to roll forward an inch. You hardly noticed through your laughter until Jin smirked, "My turn." 

Your face fell. "Wait! Hey! That's not fair!"

You playfully slapped his arm as he lined up and took his shot, sinking two more balls. You huffed and crossed your arms, your pool cue leaning against the table. 

"Jinnie, you're too good." You stuck out your bottom lip. "Can you teach me?" 

With the way Jin's eyes swept over your expression, you knew he could see through your act. One corner of his lips turned upward and he approached you. 

"Grab your cue," he said, coming to stand close behind you. He placed his hands over yours and his body brushing against yours. "The trick is to keep a good balance to your cue. And, depending on the shot you have to change the angle, but the balance should remain the same. Your balance was all over the place. It made your shots inconsistent." 

"O-oh," you said. "Thanks. Where did you learn all this?" 

"My friends like coming to the club and I don't like dancing. Plus, I can make a few hundred a night off drunk freshmen."

You laughed. "You got good just to hustle drunk frat tributes? I'm sure that's gotten you into some trouble." 

Jin smirked. "Mm, I'm too pretty to hit." 

"So, what do I owe you for losing?" you asked with a quirk of your lips. 

"I'll never turn down a kiss from a pretty girl." He winked, before leaning back over the table and lining up his next shot. 

[][][]

You walked up the stairs to your apartment and pulled out your keys. You'd left the club after losing the game of pool and surrendering a kiss on the cheek to Jin. Despite flirting with Jin to get to Jimin, you came to enjoy Jin's company. He was the oldest of Jimin's friend group you'd come to find out. He graduated Jimin's freshman year but still hung around them at the college hang out spots. 

Before leaving, Jin had given you his number in case you needed anything. If Jin was into you, you would've jumped on the chance to date him, but you were thankful for a new friend nonetheless. 

You walked into your apartment and your eyes shot towards where you'd left Jackson in his carrier. The kitten had ventured out, which was a good sign. If he was already up and around, he would be back to his normal self before long. It was only when you spotted the plastic cone upside down on the floor that your stomach dropped. 

You eventually found the kitten curled up in your bedroom on one of your discarded T-shirts. He was awake and meowed in greeting when you entered the room. His temperament had improved. You picked him up and flipped him onto his back to find the surgery incision red and enflamed. It appeared Jackson pulled out a few of his stitches. 

If you hadn't held the kitten in your arms, you would've fallen to your knees. You felt like you needed to vomit, despite having nothing to drink at the club. You checked the time: 1 a.m. 

 After Googling the nearest emergency vet, you pulled out your phone. 

"What?" Jimin said, answering the phone. Luckily, his words didn't sound slurred and you didn't hear the music of the club. 

"Jimin," your voice cracked as you held the phone with your shoulder and attempted to reattach the cone around Jackson's neck. Tears pricked at your eyes as the kitten clawed at your wrists and struggled against your grasp. 

"Inna?" His voice suddenly shifted. "What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I came home and Mochi had gotten his cone off and it looks like he pulled out a few stitches and it looks really bad and maybe infected. He needs to go to the emergency vet but it's on the other side of the city and I don't know how I'm gonna get there or pay for it." Tears were falling onto your cheeks and your voice shaking with every word. 

Maybe Jackson would've been better off if you and Jimin had left him in the alleyway for a rich homebody to find. Someone who can spend more time with him and who could pay for everything he needed. Not two broke college students who were barely friends and never home.

You heard rustling on the other end of the phone that brought you out of your thoughts. "I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?" 

Jimin hung up the phone soon after and you continued trying to get the cone back around Jackson's neck so that he couldn't do any more damage. Eventually, you manage to re-fasten it and wrapped him in the T-shirt you'd found him on. 

[][][]

It was less than ten minutes when you heard a quiet knock on the door. You opened it with one hand, cradling Jackson with the other. You figured it would be easier to take him without the carrier, that way you could ensure that he didn't do more damage to his incision. 

"Hey," you said, not even meeting Jimin's eyes before you stepped outside and locked the door. You hadn't grabbed a jacket, but the air wasn't too cold, just a bit crisp against your skin. You hugged the kitten closer to your body.

"I called ahead," Jimin said. "They're expecting us. I borrowed Tae's car so it's easier and we can keep a better eye on him." 

You looked up at him wide-eyed. He had really thought of everything while you only managed to stop Jackson from hurting himself more. Jimin led you down to Tae's car, a beige car that looked like something your grandmother would drive. But, the seats were large and it allowed you to bring your knees up to your chest and cuddle your kitten close.

 "When did you pick him up?" Jimin asked, pulling onto the road from the parking lot of your apartment complex. 

"Before I went to work," you said. "Well, supposed to work." You ran your fingers across the kitten's tiny brow. Jackson liked it, closing his eyes and nuzzling against your wrists which still burned underneath the fabric of your shirt with his scratches. "It was only supposed to be a few hours. I thought he would be out of it all night so I wouldn't have to worry." You paused before letting out a scoff laden sigh. "This is all my fault. I should've had someone watch him or called in or something." 

"Hey," Jimin said, his voice silky and soft. "He could've done this in two minutes while your back was turned. He's gonna be okay, all right?"

[][][]

"It looks like he just ripped out the stitches and there may be the beginning of a small infection. We'll take care of the stitches and give him so antibiotics. We'll keep a watch on him until tomorrow to make sure there's nothing else major." 

You nodded and handed over your credit card, knowing this was going to max it out, but not caring as long as Jackson was going to be okay.

"Wait," Jimin said, reaching into his back pocket. "Can you split it between these two?" 

The woman nodded, glancing between the two of you as she placed half the bill on your card and the rest on Jimin's. 

"You didn't have to do that," you said after you and Jimin had left the office and walked back to the car. 

"Yes, I did. He's half mine." 

You got into the car but didn't put on your seatbelt, not wanting to leave without your kitten. Jimin got in and shut his door, putting the keys in the ignition, but glancing over at you before starting the engine. 

"Everything okay?" 

"What time is it?" 

"Uh, just past two fifteen." 

"I don't want to go home without him," you said.

"I can stay with you," Jimin said. 

"No, it's not that," you said. "I want to stay here. I can't leave him."

Jimin went quiet for a moment before starting the engine and you felt your objection growing in your throat before you realized that he hadn't turned out towards the road, but, instead was heading deeper into the parking lot. He parked towards the edge of the lot where you were out of the way. The streetlights only dimly lighting the interior of the car so you could just barely make out Jimin's face. 

"We'll stay," he said. "But, you need to get some sleep. I think Tae has some blankets in the trunk. The backseat should be big enough to lay down."

Jimin got out of the car as you climbed into the back. He was right, the seat was larger enough for you to lay down, but you chose to sit until Jimin climbed in next to you.

"No blankets," he said. "But, you can use my jacket." 

"I'm not cold, Jimin." 

The conversation lulled and you felt the exhaustion finally beginning to overtake you. You leaned towards Jimin until your head connected with his body, not caring that you probably should avoid him, or that you felt more relaxed than you had in days when your bodies connected. 

Jimin responded immediately by placing his arm around your shoulders to make the position more comfortable for both of you. His hand came down to rest on your wrist, just below where your palm meets your wrist. You flinched as he brushed over the fresh cat scratches. 

"Did that hurt?" he asked. You felt as he gently rolled up your sleeve revealing the shallow, red scratches. "You didn't tell me you were hurt."

"I had the wrestle the cone back on him," you said, your voice a grumble. "They're just cat scratches. I'm okay. I just want to sleep." 

"Okay," he said, not arguing and simply bringing his fingers to interlock with yours.

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Dangerous | Chapter 6: Morello

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Bad Boy!Jimin, Bartender!Reader College AU

Pairing: Jimin/Named Reader

Rating: M | Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: jealousy, slight angst

A/N: I know it's been literally forever since I updated this. I don't really have a good reason, but I'm hoping to get the rest of the chapters queued up to release over the next couple of weeks.

You're almost late to class as you had forgotten your water bottle and only realized when you'd already walked halfway. You'd just managed to get to class with a couple of minutes to spare, but you'd already worked up a sweat.

Luckily, your normal spot next to Eunha was free and you slid into it. You looked around the room, not spotting Jimin at all. While normally you kept your gaze away from the boy, you knew the two of you needed to discuss what happened the night before. It was obvious he remembered otherwise he wouldn't have left or would've at least left a note like he usually did. 

The instructor came in and class started. Jimin was nowhere among the crowd of dancers and as the music started, you couldn't shake the feeling from the back of your neck that it was because of you.

Class went by as usual other than Jimin wasn't there. It wasn't just you that seemed to notice his missing presence, you noticed your classmates looking around and glancing at each other, shrugging. When class ended, your instructor the typical shuffling when the music shut off. 

"Remember to continue working on your piece for the final showcase," she said. "It's going to take the entire semester to perfect and I want it to show a culmination of the styles you have come to perfect and love. I want to feel who you are through your dance. Keep that in mind as you're choreographing." 

As you gathered your things, you thought about Jimin's suggestion to include some ballet in your routine. While you could include some of the simpler moves and foot positions, doing anything iconically recognizable as ballet without risking re-injuring or hurting yourself in some other way. But, you knew Jimin was right, pushing your body to its extremes was the point of dancing. Bruises on your knees, injuries, sore muscles, they were all just part of the job.

You tossed your backpack over your shoulders and walked back towards your apartment. you caught a glimpse of a familiar black motorcycle parked outside the building. You looked up and saw Jimin leaning against it, he wasn't facing your way. You were just about to grab his attempt when you heard someone behind you. 

"Jimin!" Eunha ran out from behind you and rushed towards him. "Why weren't you in class?" 

"Ah, it was nothing. I didn't feel well, but I feel much better now that you're here." He handed her his second helmet as she climbed on the motorcycle behind him. Her thighs where yours usually sat and her arms wrapped around his middle.

You rolled your eyes before Jimin could notice you and headed towards your apartment. You couldn't fight off the sour taste in your mouth. It wasn't so much jealousy as it was sadness that you'd just been beginning to think that maybe Jimin had changed. 

[][][]

The club was oddly busy for a weeknight. You filled and refilled drinks constantly and shook cocktails nearly every second. You barely registered the music as you worked. 

As the night went on, the bar finally started to empty out when you had an hour left in your shift. There was only one man left at the bar and the majority of patrons at the club were focused on dancing. You recognized the man sitting at the end of the bar. He'd hung around Jimin and his friends the few times you'd seen them all together and you were introduced to him once, but his name evaded you. He was the quiet type, nearly never danced, preferred to just sit at the bar and sip whiskey or sit at the side. 

You'd occasionally catch his eyes slip over someone on the dancefloor. His eyes moving from their head down to their toes and lingering a little on the way down, but he never did anything about it. You'd even caught him checking you out a few times, but he would simply just look away and take a sip of his drink as if his eyes hadn't just been roaming the curve of your ass. 

The thing was, while he checked out you and various other people at the club, he never approached them or had anyone approach him, which was the part you couldn't understand. He was attractive. A bit short for some tastes, but his pouty lips and slim figure very much made up for it.  

You watched as his long fingers wrapped nearly around the glass as he sipped again. He locked eyes with you again, a smirk on his face that you could just barely make out through the glass. By the time he'd placed his glass back down on the bar, he was straight-faced again. 

You almost wanted to laugh at the way he was toying with you. You looked away, a slight blush on your cheeks. You unintentionally found yourself locking eyes with Jimin as he walked into the club with his arm wrapped around Eunha. 

He winked as he and Eunha made their way to the dancefloor. She began grinding on him almost immediately and you had to look away before you puked all over the bar. 

You didn't blame Eunha. Nearly every girl in your class would've killed to be in her position, but you wished that you could warn her before Jimin broke her heart. But, based on the way she looked at him through her eyelashes and smiled at him like he was a lost puppy, you knew she was too far gone. 

Your stomach turned and you almost the man at the end of the bar attempting to get your attention. Considering he was the only one at the bar (and cute), you didn't mind him shouting over the music for you to refill his glass. Most of the time it came off as obnoxious, but there was something about him that caused you not to mind. 

"You seem different," he said. "You aren't checking me out anymore."

"What?" you asked. 

"I'm not oblivious. I thought we were having some fun." 

"Mmm, yeah, just saw someone I didn't really want to." 

"Old boyfriend?" 

"I guess you could say that."

Yoongi drunk down half his whiskey before setting back down on the bar. "It's Jimin, right?" 

"Uh, yeah," you said.

"He told us everything about you and your plan to get back at him." Yoongi chuckled, fingering the rim of the glass and looking up at you. "He kind of deserves it honestly. He was still going from girl to girl until he met you again." 

"What do you mean?"

"After that night you two almost hooked up, he hasn't seen anyone else. Well, I guess until tonight. Normally, he was with a different girl every week, sometimes 2 or 3 a week." 

You rolled your eyes. "Still the old Jimin, I guess." 

"I wouldn't be too sure. He doesn't seem too happy that you're paying so much attention to me right now." 

You glanced over in his direction and you caught Jimin's hard gaze on the two of you. He didn't seem focused on Eunha at all, beyond his hands on her hips. 

"I don't know. He's seemed mad at me since last night. God, knows why." 

Yoongi's roamed over you again and he finished the rest of his glass. "When are you off?" 

You pulled out your phone. "Like twenty minutes."

"Want me to help you out? Your goal was to hook up with all his friends, right?"

"Kind of," you said. "I mostly just want to make him get a taste of his own medicine. What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well, I don't really care for dancing like Hoseok, but I have heard that I'm a pretty good kisser and well, I wouldn't mind kissing you." 

[][][]

When you got off, you took off your apron and passed it on to the next bartender, thankfully not Chul-soo. You ducked into the bathroom and freshened up your makeup. 

You hadn't dressed up that night. You wore a simple scoop neck, long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. You let your hair out of its ponytail and reapplied your lipstick. You could already feel your body coursing with anticipation at the thought of kissing Yoongi, as you'd come to learn his name. 

He'd stressed he wasn't looking for anything serious and didn't expect anything from you afterward, which was music to your ears. There was nothing you loved more than getting to have some fun without the expectation of owing him something. 

You emerged back out to the club to see Jimin and Eunha at the bar. It was obvious he waited until you were off to order drinks. You barely glanced as you passed by, but felt his eyes follow you as you approached Yoongi who still sat at on the bar stool on the end. 

"Hey Handsome," you said, flashing him a smile. "I'm off." 

He smiled, his gums showing and it made him look adorable, in great contrast to the sexy and serious personality you'd seen so far, and you loved it. 

Yoongi got up from his seat, abandoning the rest of his whiskey and wrapping his arm around your waist. 

"Wait," you said. You reached for the half full whiskey and downed the rest of it, enjoying the burn in the back of your throat. "Can't waste good whiskey." 

"God, you're hot," Yoongi said, a chuckle in his voice as he pulled you away from the bar and to one of the tables along the wall of the club. He sat down in the chair and his eyes widened as you climbed on top of him and straddled him immediately. 

"Eager?" 

"Tipsy," you said. 

"Just from that little bit of whiskey?"

"I might've snuck a couple shots on my break."

You smirked as your lips brushed his neck and his hands came down to grip your hips. "Think this old chair will hold us?" 

"Mm, well, I guess it if breaks you'll just have to catch me."

You smirked as you gripped either side of his face and brought your lips to his. He tasted bitter with just a bit of sweetness on his tongue, like whiskey. There was still alcohol on his breath and his lips causing a familiar burn as you pulled apart. 

"Wow, you are a good kisser." 

"Don't get too attached, baby. Remember, this is just a one-time thing."

"Better savor it then." 

You attached your lips to his again as you felt his hands move from your hips. One came to rest where your neck met your head, tangled in your head. He used the other to loop two fingers into one of your belt loops.

"He looks pissed," Yoongi said. 

"Good." 

You knew that kissing Jimin just the night before and then making out with one of his friends the next night was low, but Jimin had given you no explanation on why he was avoiding you or why he was suddenly with Eunha. Was it toxic? Yes. Was it unhealthy? Probably. Did you care? No.

"I think we should go home," he said. "Before either of us does something we regret."

You nodded, feeling the alcohol beginning to wear off and your body beginning to feel weighed down. "I'm getting tired anyway. Walk me out?"

You got up from Yoongi's lap and held your hand out to him with a small, lazy smile. He stood up and took it, returning your smile, although unfortunately not showing his teeth in the cute way he had earlier.

As you walked out of the club hand in hand with Yoongi, you caught Jimin's eye once again. He was sitting at the bar while Eunha was trying to pull him back out to the dancefloor. He was sweaty and his hair stuck to his forehead. You wanted nothing more than push his hair back and run your hands through like he always liked to do himself.

He quickly withdrew his eyes from you and went back to drinking. You could see he was still sober, only drinking a lemonade. If he was drinking, there would've been bottles on the bar. 

[][][]

"You don't have to walk me home," you said, pulling your hands from Yoongi's.

"Are you sure? I don't mind." 

"It's not far," you said. "I usually walk home. Don't worry." 

He nodded and headed off in the opposite direction. You crossed your arms as the night air bit through the fabric of your clothes. You were nearly halfway home when you heard the familiar rumble of a motorcycle and you watched as Jimin passed you with Eunha on the back.

You just continued down the sidewalk as you felt your eyelids beginning to droop. It was too cold for you to actually fall asleep, but you couldn't wait to get back to your apartment and fall into your bed.

You'd just crosswalk that meant you were halfway home when you the motorcycle again. He pulled up to the sidewalk just as the walk sign flashed on the opposite side of the road. He reached back and held out the second helmet. 

"Get on," he said. 

You knew you couldn't decline, even you wanted to. While you knew from the harbored tone of Jimin's voice that was still mad at you, but the idea of closing your eyes and resting against Jimin's back was too tempting to pass up. 

You fastened on the helmet and climbed on behind Jimin. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head between his shoulder blades. You'd ridden on his motorcycle so much that you'd begun to feel comfortable. The air whipped around you and the feel of his body around yours. 

"Yoongi should've made sure you got home okay." 

"I told him not to." 

"He shouldn't have listened."

You rolled your eyes as the motorcycle lurched in the direction of your apartment. The ride wasn't long and you were slightly disappointed as he parked outside your complex. 

"Thanks," you said.

He just nodded and motioned for you to go upstairs. 

"Jimin, I'll be fine. Just go." 

"Inna, don't argue with me. Text me when you're in safely." 

You sighed and walked up to your apartment and walked inside immediately shooting Jimin a text before falling onto your bed.

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Ugh I love some good hurt and comfort 😩

*•.¸♡ ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕔𝕠𝕞 ♡¸.•* | ch.16

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem reader

Genre: smau, online best friends to enemies to lovers (lol), crack, angst, fluff.

A/N: BEFORE YOU START READING. I have exams for the next two weeks, so updates might be slower than usual. I'll try to post whenever I can, but let me tell you... there's no many chapters left! Maybe 6 or 7? and then we move onto Changbin's story! Also, I'm trying a new tagging system (in my old account i had to write one user per line or they wouldn't get tagged) can you tell me if you get tagged? Thanks a lot <3

Warnings⚠️⚠️: angst,ateez being the bad guys (but all of them?), mentions of alcohol, violence, kidnapping. presence of food, seminudity, fluff, lots of fluff, caring!chan bc that deserves a warning.

Updates: Monday to Friday (if I can)

Summary: you need to be taken care of

Reblogs are appreciated and comments fuel me! ❤️

| masterlist

This is not how you imagined the end of the day: coming back home with your ex boyfriend after he spends hours trying to find you because you have been “kidnapped” by the cute new guy that arrived to class a few days ago. 

If you put it like that, it sounds even crazier. 

“Earth to Rei.” 

His voice takes you away from your thoughts, making you shake your head to regain focus. “Sorry, I got a bit lost in my head.” 

Chan nods, pressing his lips together. “Rei, I know it’s gonna be the hundredth time that I ask you this but… Are you physically okay? Did he touch you?” 

You grab his hand and squeeze it softly. “I promise that I am okay. He didn’t touch me.” 

“Okay, good.” Chan sits next to you on the sofa, covering your legs with a blanket that you always have close in case you get cold. “I won’t have to go back and finish him.” 

His left cheek is swollen and red; it will probably bruise tomorrow. You pay attention to his hand, noticing the broken skin on his knuckles. He didn’t leave without a fight. “How did you find me?” 

He turns on the sofa, his body facing you while he rests his face on the back, the new position allowing him to watch your face. “You still share your location with me. I found out an hour ago.” 

You smile a bit, resting your head on the back of the sofa too, watching the ceiling with interest. “I actually started to share it with you when “Chris” gave me his phone number.” 

“Lucky guy, that Chris.” 

You snort, shaking your head. “It all happens for a reason, right?” 

Chan frowns, not understanding your words. “What do you mean?” 

“Maybe it was meant to happen that we got reunited again. I don’t share my location with anyone else.” 

“Maybe you should start.” 

You sigh. “I’m making the kids share their location with us first thing in the morning.” 

“Yeah, they definitely need to do so. I don’t want to feel like this ever again.” 

You try to swallow a lump of feelings, but to no avail. You can’t even imagine how he must have felt. “Are you okay?” 

Chan looks at your face, eyes darting all over your skin, as if making sure that there’s not even a scratch. “We need to take that makeup off.” 

And that’s how Chan dodges a bullet. “I’ll go to the bathroom, you can go if you want. I’ll lock the door.” 

He shakes his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “I am not going anywhere, Rei. I’m gonna stay here. You went through a bad situation, and I won’t let you be alone when you snap out of it.” 

“Snap?” 

“You’re way too calm for what you just went through. Maybe you’re in shock.” 

You shrug, covering your body with the blanket. “I don’t know what you feel in that case, so I can’t tell.” 

He gets up from the sofa. “Which door is the bathroom?” 

“Last one.” 

“I’ll be right back.” 

Chan comes back with cotton pads soaked in micellar water and softly rubs your face with them, cleaning it. “Your hair is sticky.” 

“I think someone knocked out Seonghwa’s cup when I was trying to pull you away from Yunho. I don’t have energy to wash it now.” You sigh, leaning back once he finishes removing your makeup. 

“I can wash it for you, if you want.” He offers, wanting to help you in whatever way he can. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I want to. Let me take care of you.” He insists, grabbing your hand again. 

“I can do it tomorrow, don’t worry.” 

Chan’s free hand, the one that isn’t holding yours, cups your cheek, softly turning your face so you can look him in the eye. “Rei, you don’t have to be brave and strong all the time, okay? You just went through a horrible experience. You might need to be taken care of, but that’s okay! We all need to be taken care of sometimes.” 

Those words seem to be the final straw, and you end up breaking down, crying, and letting it all out. You don’t notice Chan’s sigh of relief when he notices that you have finally snapped out of it. “I was so scared…” 

“Come here, princess.” He says while opening his arms for you. You move close to him, letting his arms engulf you and hug you. Right now, this is the safest place in the world. He looked for you for hours, went to Yunho’s house, and took you out of there. It is probably the bravest thing someone has ever done for you. 

He lets you cry all you need, and when you have calmed down, he takes you to the bathroom and washes your hair. His hands are soft as feathers, and he checks constantly to see if you’re okay, but the soft, satisfied smile on your face tells him that you’re enjoying this small moment and that it’s making you feel more relaxed. He could kiss you right there and then, but it’s not the moment. 

Once he has dried your hair, he takes you back to the living room, sitting you on the sofa and kneeling in front of you. Your eyes are closing due to sleep, but he has to take care of something else before putting you to bed. “Are you hungry?” 

“Oh, no. Don’t worry.” But just as you say this, your stomach growls, betraying you. “Maybe a bit.” 

He chuckles a bit, going to the kitchen. “I see what I can do.” 

“There’s only ramen.” 

“Ramen it’s good, right?” 

You shrug. “It’s too late to order takeout, so… Ramen it is.” 

It takes him a few minutes to cook ramen for the both of you, and when he comes back you eat in silence, both of you are too hungry to even talk. 

“I don’t think they’re doing this because they want to.” You mutter once you finish your ramen. 

He watches closely, interested in your words. “You mean Ateez?” 

You nod. “They were talking about a man… They called him “Fedora man”. I don’t know much about it, but it seems like they need the money for this guy.” 

Chan thinks for a second. “Do you think maybe this guy got them involved in something illegal?” 

“It could be. But, at least, we know three of them. We could find the rest by looking at their socials.” 

“Yeah, this Seonghwa guy.” Chan recalls the guy who had been trying to stop Changbin. He didn’t stand a chance. 

“Park Seonghwa. There was also another one, maybe you didn’t see him. Song Mingi.” ”

“Well, we know three now. Only five more to go.” 

“Six.” You correct him. 

“What?” 

“They’re adding a new member soon. They’re not precisely secret about their stuff, you know.” 

Chan nods, all his preoccupations leaving him when he sees you yawning. “Go to bed.” 

“Where are you gonna sleep?” 

He looks at the sofa. “Do you have a spare pillow?” 

“You’re not sleeping on the sofa, Chris.” 

He smiles, something melts inside him every time you call him Chris. “Are you offering me your bed?” 

“It’s big enough for two.” 

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” 

You take him to your room, quickly lying on your side. He looks lost for a second, his hands gripping the edge of his shirt. “You can take it off. I know you sleep without t-shirts.” 

“You sure?” 

“Absolutely. You have nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

But he definitely has something that you haven’t seen before. A delicious six pack. Where does he get time to go to the gym? You turn off the lights before he can notice how you’re staring at him. 

Once he's under the blankets, you turn around to face him, even though you can’t see him, the room is only lit up by the streetlight outside your house. “Don’t ever let me do that again.” 

“Unless you want me following you around on every single date you have, I don’t know how I can avoid it.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have any more dates.”

He snorts, shifting around, trying to find the perfect posture. “Don’t you want to find love?” 

All you can hear right now is your heart beating in your ears. Do you really want to find love? No, that’s not a good question. Do you really need to look out for love when you have him in front of you? Why keep looking? 

“I found it already, but let it go twice because I am an idiot.” 

You can only hear his sharp intake of breath. “Don’t. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. I don’t know if I can take it.” 

You get closer to him—to his warm body and his calming essence. “I mean it.” 

He gets close too, and you can feel his nose touching yours every time he takes a breath. “I want to kiss you.” 

“Do it.” 

“No… You’re not emotionally okay right now, princess. I can’t do that.” He groans, frustrated with having you so close but being unable to do anything. “It’s like kissing someone who’s drunk. You might want it now, but will you still want me to kiss you tomorrow?” 

“Ask me again tomorrow.” 

“You need more time. I’ll ask you again when I see that you’re okay. I promise.” 

You sigh, feeling frustrated too. “You do?” 

“Trust me, I won’t miss the opportunity to kiss you again.” 

You remain silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you hold me all night?” 

‘All my life’, Chan wants to answer, but he knows he can’t say that. So he decides to just hug you close and close his eyes, hoping that time passes quickly for him to finally confess all those things he wanted to say to you for the last few months.

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SKZ MTL Fall In Love At First Sight

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Most

Felix Jisung Hyunjin Changbin Chan Jeongin Minho Seungmin

Least

Felix and Jisung fall fast. Felix would probably recognize it right away and--depending on how he felt that day--may strike up a conversation and offer to buy a coffee. If he's busy or gets shy, he'll keep coming to the same place hoping to see his love again. Jisung would be in denial and probably assume it's just attraction, but if he continues to see them regularly, he will realize it's more than attraction and would suddenly become shy.'

Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chan all have romantic streaks. Hyunjin likes the idea of love at first sight, but ultimately doesn't exist until it happens to him. All of the art he produces from then on is in some way related to his love. Changbin knows who and what he likes nearly immediately. Therefore, it doesn't really surprise him when he realizes you're the one. But, he is going to try and talk himself out of it because what if he isn't the one for you? As the feeling continues to nag him, he'll eventually do something about it. Similarly, Chan will take an extremely logical approach at first. He'll probably flirt and be comfortable in his attraction, but the feelings and emotions scare him. It will take him some time to fully work them out for himself and only then will he pursue anything serious.

Jeongin and Minho feel like the types to fall for a friend. This isn't a strict rule, but is probably most likely. However, that doesn't mean love at first sight isn't possible for them. Jeongin will likely sit in denial for a while--perhaps even weeks or months--but looking back he'll realize he loved you from the moment you met. Minho--while I think it's unlikely he feels true emotional love at first sight--if he does, it will absolutely scare the living shit out of him. He might even have you thinking that he hates you because he goes out of his way to avoid you or push you away. It's only when you corner and confront him that the truth comes out.

It feels obvious that Seungmin is unlikely to fall in love at first sight. That's not to say he isn't a romantic, but he is picky about the people in his life in a way that is not obvious during a first meeting or just by locking eyes. If it does happen though, it will be obvious to everyone BUT Seungmin. He'll treat you like an absolute monarch and completely charm you without trying.

Stray reaction to s/o being scared of having sex with them because of ex partners being pushy?

I recently just got out of a r/ship like, and chan had inspired me to leave (or like when i listened to the music it felt like he was giving me confidence to do it)

SKZ Reaction To You Being Scared Of Sex Because Of An Ex [Hyung Line]

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: mature (minors dni) mentions of sex, allusions to past toxic/abusive relationships, not explicitly mentioned but could be a trigger for sexual assault

A/N: Thanks for the request! I am SO glad you got out of that relationship. It can be hard when you feel like you're being inadequate, but ultimately, we all have boundaries and our partners need to respect them. Also, uh, this got long lol.

Chan:

"Why would I be mad at you?"

The words were spoken after you had discussed sex for the first time in your relationship with Chan. It was a natural next step and it wasn't that you didn't want to have sex with him, but you weren't ready after feeling obligated to have sex in your last relationship. It became a chore and not enjoyable for you.

After you explained your needs, you expect Chan to become frustrated at best and angry at best. Even though he was nothing like your ex, your traumatized brain discontinued logic in that moment. Instead, Chan nodded in understanding, becoming confused when your eyes widened and you stuttered over your words.

He knew about your ex, but as you explained, you saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. When you finished, he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head ensuring you that he would never pressure you for sex or anything else you didn't want to do.

Minho:

"Mm, okay, love, let's cuddle instead."

Minho had seen the way your ex would grip your thigh as a signal he wanted to duck into the bedroom. At first, he thought you were okay with it. You seemed happy. Until you weren't. Soon you asked him to text you with an emergency so you didn't have to spend the night with your ex. Your eyes became desperate.

Minho found himself glued to his phone whenever he knew you were with him. When you showed up at his apartment in the early hours of the morning with the black tracks of mascara mixed with tears on your cheeks, he immediately took you in, locked the door, and you never saw your ex again.

Now, it was Minho's arms you fell asleep in every night. But, despite the fact the two of you had dated for several months, you hadn't had sex. Minho never seemed to mind, but did bring it up occasionally, primarily in moments where making out seemed to heat up to something more.

Inevitably, you'd shake your head sheepishly, but Minho never let you feel bad about it. He'd wrap his arms around you and kiss your hair instead.

Changbin:

"You're not broken."

Seeing Changbin caused a pang in your chest. Everything about him was the same except for his body now sporting several pounds of muscle. You gave him a smile, but based on the way his eyes scanned over you and his brow furrowed you knew he could tell that you had also changed.

You and Changbin--high school sweethearts--had broken up before each of you went to separate colleges. It was summer now and you'd been looking forward to coming home to get away from the pain and sadness your first year of college held.

Within a few weeks of reuniting, the two of you began to rekindle the romance of the past. Older, wiser, and more experienced, the two of you quickly picked up where you left off. Except, when Changbin went to pull off your shirt, you stopped him.

After asking what was wrong, the entire story spilled out of you. As tears spilled, Changbin pulled you close and explained that he'd never blame you for what happened and he'd wait as long as you needed.

Hyunjin:

"You'll never disappoint me."

You liked Hyunjin. A lot. Which is why your hands shook as you worked up the courage to tell him about your ex. Hyunjin had not once brought up sex, but based on the way you always seemed to be the one to stop in heated moments, you could only assume it was because of you.

After dinner, you decided to broach the topic while sitting on the couch while Hyunjin scrolled through Netflix to find a movie to watch. Hyunjin's eyes widened at your sudden serious demeanor. But, he didn't interrupt, letting you tell him everything you needed to. Your worst fear is that putting off sex would be a dealbreaker for him.

When you finished, Hyunjin didn't say anything but just looked at you for several long seconds. Eventually, his hand reached over and his fingers intertwined with yours. His lips met the crest of your ear before pulling back and asking what movie you wanted to watch.

Fancy Dress | l.fx

Genre: smut, fluff, ceo!felix, secretary!reader, afab reader Warnings: smut Minors DNI, jealousy, probably an unethical relationship, PIV sex, cursing A/N: Thank you to the anon who inspired me to begin working on this because it's been in my drafts for months

Perhaps the red dress you wore to the office party was a tad proactive. The silk draped across every curve of your body as if you were statuesque. It did not feature cleavage nor was it too short. But you knew he liked undressing you in his imagination first.

Felix had not touched you in two months.

Without a word, he stopped calling you into his office on his lunch break. The small brush of his fingers against the small of your back on the way to a meeting. The press of his lips to the back of your neck in the elevator. Your eyes fluttered closed at the thought he would do it again.

Entering the conference room turned party space you were one of the last to arrive. Many of your coworkers already held half drunken glasses of wine and the cheese plate was sans half a row of cheddar.

You shrugged off your coat, the full expanse of your collarbones exposed with only the small straps of the dress interrupting the view. Grabbing a red, you took a large gulp, the wine matching the color of your painted lips.

"Y/N! Glad you could make it."

You turned to see the reason for the party, Hwang Hyunjin. He was moving across the country and leaving the company. Having worked for Felix's company from almost the very beginning, the CEO of Lee Enterprises spared no expenses to send off his most valued employee right.

"Of course, Hyune," you said, reaching out to hug the tall man. "I wouldn't miss it. You were a godsend my first month here."

Hyunjin laughed, bumping your hip. "You were like a scared little fawn."

You looked sideways tossing your head back with a half scoff, half chuckle. "You act like I was a baby."

"But you wereeee," Hyunjin said, his tone already whiny and dramatic that you assumed he was already on his second glass of wine. "So young and so cute. Never worked in an office before."

You blushed. "You're ridiculous." You gently swatted Hyunjin's bicep. He didn't look particularly muscular, but his arm still felt solid.

"Sending Hyunjin off well?" a familiar deep voice said.

Your boss and the CEO of the company approached. He'd gone back to a more natural look with his hair looking more chocolate brown. It had been a few weeks since the change, but you'd rarely gotten a chance to see him up close in that time.

The color made the freckles sprinkled across his face shine brighter. You remember counting them once in the afterglow, his lips kissing the inside of your wrist.

It always felt so intimate with Felix. Even when it was rough. His fingertips bruised and then kneaded, his mouth nipped at your skin and then whispered in your ear how beautiful you are. Sex with Felix was as thrilling as whiplash and as gentle as grass sweeping across your calves.

"Of course," you said. "I have to make sure my work husband knows how much I'll miss him." You chuckled and Hyunjin let a less enthusiastic one. It wasn't like him to deny your close friendship, but when you looked up, you noticed the hard look in Felix's eyes.

Felix still managed to give a disingenuous smile as he reached for another glass of champagne.

"You certainly will be missed, Hyunjin." His gaze flicked to you. It felt so white hot you couldn't return it and ended up looking downward at his leather Chelsea boots.

"Y/N," Felix said. "Do you have a moment? There's actually something from a client I want to go over with you."

You looked up and met his eyes. You agreed and began to follow him to his office. Murmurs persisted as you left, but they had nothing to do with a sexual relationship.

He works her too hard.

Wow, he even makes Y/N work at a company party.

You think she's going to quit?

While some--like Hyunjin--had caught on to the true nature of your relationship with the CEO, most had not. Felix was good at being discreet and quick when he needed to be.

When you reached his office, he shut the door and turned on the light. The blinds were already down as they usually were when he left. You heard the lock of the door engage and it made your head pop up.

"Why--" You began to ask.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he asked, moving closer to you until your thighs pressed against the edge of his desk.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Wearing that dress, flirting with Hyunjin, is this because I haven't fucked you lately?"

"I-I wasn't flirting with Hyunjin. He's just one of my best friends."

Felix didn't care for the answer, his eyelids lowering slightly and his mouth forming a disappointed 'O'. He gently moves your hair behind your shoulders, exposing your neck and all the way down to your breasts strained against the top of the dress.

"I can't mark you today," he said, his lips pressing against the sensitive spot on your neck. His tongue lapped at the taste of your skin. "Bend over for me, sweetheart."

You did as he said, already soaking through your thin panties. This is exactly what you wanted, but part of you still wondered why it had to come to this. Why did you have to make him jealous for him to fuck you again?

Felix pushed the hem of your dress up just above your ass. His hands groped at your ass making you moan. It only took his touch to drive you to this point.

"Mm, you have to be quiet for me," he said, chuckling a bit. "How about I help you out?"

You felt a draft as his body moved away from yours. Though, it was only a few seconds before he was leaning over you, his tie splitting your lips. Felix tied it behind your head as a makeshift gag.

"There," he said, his deep voice sounding amused, obviously he was pleased by his handiwork. "Now, where were we, love?"

As soon as Felix peels your wet panties off and pushes into you, you know you're done for. How in the hell are you going to go without this for two months again? The feeling of him filling you up so that your thighs were pressed into the desk with every thrust.

The tie did help muffle your moans, but only enough that anyone outside wouldn't hear. Inside Felix's office, however, it was all gasped, rushed breaths, and grunts and whimpers. Occasionally, Felix would let quiet praise leave his lips.

You're so gorgeous like this.

I missed this pussy.

I love you.

The words uttered as he came inside of you. It made you both go still after he said it. Maybe it was in the heat of the moment? Perhaps he was thinking of someone else? Could he have possibly meant it?

"Sorry," he said, his voice a little more restrained than usual. "I didn't mean to scare you with that." His cock was still inside of you and you couldn't see his face. Though, as his secretary, you could read every small tendon movement and anticipate his needs.

You managed to move off of him so you can turn around. He doesn't stop you, but when you finally meet his eyes, they almost look sad and longing.

"Did you mean it?"

He didn't answer right away, but his eyes didn't leave yours. When he finally did answer, his words were so quiet you almost wondered if you imagined them.

"Yes."

"Then, why didn't you so much as look at me for the last two months?"

"I was scared. I never meant to develop feelings for you and I was almost certain you didn't return them. Plus, it's bad enough that we are having sex, but if I fall in love with you? It'll get much harder to hide."

"Why hide it then?"

Felix sighed. His hand caressed your face and his thumb gently rubbed over your smooth skin. Lips hovering not far from your own it would just take shifting onto your tiptoes for them to meet.

"I tried to stop it. It's why I ignored you for the last couple of months."

"I love you too, Felix."

A bemused look crossed your features and Felix's eyes widened. He truly didn't think you loved him back? It wasn't just about how he fucked you. You fell for him because of the way he remembered your coffee order, whenever he texted you to make sure you got home from work safely, or when he saw your humble apartment for the first time and remarked on how much he liked it because it reminded him of you.

Felix pressed his lips to yours. No words exchanged told you that he was never going to let you go again, but the soft grip on your upper arm did.

"Now, I owe you an orgasm."

The two of you laughed as he got down on his knees.

06. sharing a bed series ; skz ; felix

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 6/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. bodyguard au. a dose of angst. open ending. past violence and parental abuse mentioned. ongoing perilous situation and forced proximity. not the healthiest dynamic lol. spanking, some rough play, hair-pulling, throat-grabbing, overstimulation, crying during sex, mention of past unprotected sex, a more dominant felix and a kinda bratty reader.

-

You kick open your bedroom door.  As usual, no one is home except for you and Felix so you are free to scream and curse and stomp all you want. 

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you shout among a flurry of other colourful words.   

Felix enters behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as ever. 

Felix’s perpetual calmness is half the reason your father hired him.  The other reason is that Felix was the best behaved boy in the world who grew into the most pristine, perfect man.  Your father did not claw his way to the top of the industrial world by settling for anything less than the best.  Lee Felix is the best.  Your father trusts him with everything and anything, including wrangling his rambunctious daughter.  Felix’s job is to guard and protect you – from others and from yourself.   He is annoyingly good at it.    

Felix is the prettiest, loveliest, sweetest man on the outside, particularly selected for his unassuming attributes.  An obvious bodyguard figure draws unwanted attention.  Felix, however, attended high school and college with you, posing as a fellow student and never looking out of place, always appearing gentle and ordinary and kind.  Behind that, he is a lethally competent bodyguard.  Your skinny, freckled, fair-haired watchdog can subdue any adversary. 

Including the one tonight. 

“I was just doing my job,” Felix says.  He closes your bedroom door and locks it out of habit even though you are home alone.  He is still completely uncaring to your crisis, as fucking usual, wandering around like he is a sensitive little lamb, smiling and content. 

You throw yourself down on your bed with a dramatic heave. 

“You broke his arm!” you cry.   

Felix is standing at your desk, removing his work equipment.  He is dressed like a civilian for the most part, denim pants with a windbreaker and a button-down over a t-shirt.  He lays the jacket over the back of the chair and sighs, looking at his reflection in your vanity mirror.   He runs a hand through his hair, still casual, feathering the dyed locks so they flutter back into place.   

“I was just doing my job,” he repeats.  He undoes the button-down and tosses it aside, then kicks his shoes under the desk.  

Felix is all sharp lines and harsh angles, slender but athletic.  His cheekbones are high, his angular face softened by his dark eyes and endearing freckles.   That sweetness is juxtaposed by the gun harness strapped across his back. 

You swallow.  The harness hits the floor, then he grabs the back of the t-shirt and yanks it swiftly over his head.  It joins the pile of discarded articles. 

He sits on the desk chair with a distracted sigh, dutifully disassembling the gun for an inspection or cleaning or whatever nonsense Felix has decided is more important than your conversation.  

“His arm,” you repeat.  “You broke his arm.  He was a completely innocent guy!  I’m allowed to flirt with guys!  Just because you’re my daddy’s good dog and he doesn’t let you get your dick wet, doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.” 

Felix looks at you, his mouth a thin line with his unamused smile. 

“Cute,” he says.  He drops the smile and his distinctive deep voice drops another decibel when he says, “You can flirt.  Just not with him.”

“His arm—”

Felix closes the gun and puts it on the desk. 

“I think he was lucky I didn’t rip it off for grabbing you like that, don’t you think?”  Felix says.  He asks it so nicely too, tipping his head imploringly, like he really wants an answer.  Not that he waits.  Just as soon as the smile comes, it goes, replaced with a eye roll as he gets to his feet. 

“Get ready for bed,” Felix says.  “And, mmm, that’s not a request by the way.  I’m phoning your dad to tell him we’re home safe.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just leaves the room while reaching into his back pocket for his phone.  He closes the door behind himself, leaving you to fume by your lonesome. 

Out of rebellious frustration, you do not budge an inch.  You cross your arms and sit back on your bed, still dressed in your evening outfit.  You can distantly hear Felix speaking in a formal voice and it makes you twitch with anticipation. 

Felix being so professional is simultaneously his most annoying and most attractive quality.  Annoying, because he really never falters on the clock.  Attractive, because it wouldn’t be any fun pushing him to the boundaries of his rules if he wasn’t such a stickler in the first place.

When Felix returns, still wearing nothing more than his jeans, his expression immediately turns exasperated.  He closes the door and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at you.  

You stare straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed.   You and Felix have shared a bed since the day he was hired, back when you were teenagers, as you were in the habit of sneaking out at night.  You were not intimidated by the chubby-cheeked teenage boy, gleefully slipping past him while he slumbered – until suddenly you were being yanked back through the window.  You learned the hard way that despite his appearance and disposition, he was an especially skilled martial artist.    

As your father continues to accrue enemies in every market, you cannot live life on your own, not without endangering it.  You still need Felix.  You still share a bed.  Everything you do, you do with Felix, whether you like it or not.  Felix expresses little feeling on that front, a perpetual font of seeming sunshine when he isn’t breaking someone’s arm.

You know you are being mightily petulant by keeping him up, but you don’t care.   If you can’t have what you want then neither can he.   You can stay up all night, just staring and glaring at each other contemptuously.  You are happy to let all that mutual disdain simmer through its achingly slow burn. 

“Really?”  Felix says.  “Do we have to do this tonight?” 

“I’m not doing anything,” you say.   

“Right.”  He laughs dryly but sits gingerly on his side of the bed.  He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly with pleasure.  His hair is getting longer again, sweeping his neck, and you watch as he delicately tucks some behind his ear.   He leans on one arm, looking at you.  “I’ll ask you nicely then, sweetheart.” 

Ooh, that’s a low blow and he knows it.  The word sweetheart always sounds so rich in his mouth, his accent softening the heart of it.  Hopefully he misses the way you melt, but you doubt it. 

His smile only deepens. 

“Please, please get ready for bed,” he says.  “It’s been a long day, yeah?  And we’re both so tired.  Come on.  Let’s go.  Just need some rest I think.  Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” 

You do not move.    

You hear him sigh, a melodic sound.  He runs his hand through his hair again. 

“All right,” he says, soulfully.  “All right.  Fine.” 

You hear the sharper inflection in his tone but you react a moment too late.  Your bed is big, big enough you could starfish without even brushing his side of the bed, so it takes you a second to scamper to the opposite side. 

That second is too long.  Felix reaches out and grabs you by the calf, dragging you across the bed.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, kicking at him to no avail.   “I’ll phone my dad!”

He is completely undeterred by your dramatics, only sighing when he hauls you over his lap. 

“Go ahead,” he says.  “I’m allowed to use, uhhh, what’d he say… discretion… mm… to discipline you if I think I need to.” He puts his phone within your reach.  It is not a genuine gesture of goodwill so much as it is taunting you because you both know your father would take his side.   “Well?” he asks.  “Do you want to phone him?”   

“I hate you,” you say.

“I know,” he replies.  “Sorry.” 

He sounds like he means it, though it’s hard to believe him when he flicks up your dress and swings his open palm across your ass.  His hand comes down four more times before he neatly fixes your skirt again. 

“Bed time?” he asks brightly, like everything has been solved with no problem. 

You crawl off his lap while grumbling irritably, doing your best to ignore the smarting on your behind when you turn over to glare at him.  He is just smiling at you, that thin-lipped way he smiles with dry humour. 

“I hate you,” you say again. 

He waves his hand, gesturing the vaguest, blandest sentiment of meh with its wiggle.  

“I’m just doing my job,” he says for the millionth time. 

“Really?” you reply with as much sarcasm as he usually gives.  He hears it, tilting his head like a curious cat, as if he has no idea why you could possibly be upset with him – though the stupid little upturn to his lips tells you that he knows exactly why.  

You hate him.  You really, really do hate him.  You have never hated anyone the way you hate him and you want to shout it from the roof.  But you can’t do that.  You can only say it to his face in private, in whatever way you can.  

You reach without warning, cupping the bulge between his legs and finding a lot more than a denim crinkle.  His gaze darkens, his hand covering yours warningly, though he doesn’t lift it away.

You adopt a saccharine sweet tone when you speak.

“Do you tell my daddy that when you discipline me you get hard?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. 

He moves your hand to his thigh instead, shaking his head. 

“Stop being silly,” he says.  “Go get ready for bed.” 

Your eyes follow him as he stands.  He doesn’t get far when you grab his belt loop and tug him back.   Felix has fast reflexes and is incredibly coordinated, so you find it hard to believe you sincerely bested him, but he stumbles as if you did.   He stands where you want him, where he’s close enough for you to kneel on the bed and press your face right against his bulge. 

He says your name in a warning voice, his already deep voice dropping more.

“I wonder…” you say, nuzzling your nose against the ridge in the denim, where you can feel him hard and getting harder still.  “When my daddy asks you what we do all day,” you say, flicking your eyes up to his, “do you tell him your dick spends more time in my mouth than in your pants?”

His nostrils flare with his next breath. 

You smile, victorious. 

“He still thinks you’re his perfect soldier, doesn’t he?” you ask.  “You can do no wrong.  Little does he know…”

“I do my job,” Felix says.  “And I do a good job.  Okay? That’s all that matters.”   

You start to open your mouth, one hand climbing towards his fly.   You stop with a gasp when he fists a chunk of your hair, tugging your head away from him.  It sends a hot shock rippling through you, flooding you with the recollection of all the times he grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, the times he cupped your head and put himself in your mouth despite knowing better, the number of times he fucked between your pretty lips and forgot to be proper, cursing so much it was practically poetry. 

This time he guides you away and you whimper miserably.  He does not loosen his grip, his fingers threading closer to your scalp so it both hurts less and holds stronger.   He knows better than to just let go.   He knows you perfectly.  You glare at him. 

“Look at me,” he says, because your gaze dropped to his bulge again.  “I said look at me.”   He tugs your hair so you obey, giving him your most annoyed expression.  “You’re listening, yeah?” he says.  He doesn’t wait for an answer.  “You’re going to go to your closet.  Get ready for bed.  Sleep.  You’re going to do that,” his voice turns frighteningly pleasant, “or I’m going to carry you over there and get you ready myself.” 

“Like when we were leaving the club tonight?” you ask just as sweetly.  “And you put me over your shoulder then, oops, something happened when we were in the limo, didn’t it?” 

He lets go of you, exhaling tiredly in a high-pitched breath.

“Where did all your pretty rings go, Felix?” you ask, reaching for his bare hand, usually adorned with rings.  “Did they fall on the floor in the limo when you decided you had to shove your hand up my skirt?”   

Leaving the club, you were both wired.  Felix was honestly justified in breaking that guy’s arm.  You purposefully chose the creepiest, shadiest guy in the club to lead on, knowing Felix would appear two seconds later to rescue you.   He always does.  No one else ever pays you any personal attention and your life is too complicated for romance, so you thrive on the feeling of someone caring enough to always find you – even if it’s literally his job. 

You also like getting mad at him for overreacting, but you like his overreactions.   Him twisting and breaking that creep’s arm honestly turned you on.  It also got Felix all worked up, a bit pissed because you were being irresponsible again but nonetheless heated.  You thought for sure he’d take you home and go crazy and fuck you in the foyer.  Instead he put up the limo divider and one-by-one removed his rings, giving you ample time to refuse before he covered your mouth tightly and slid his other hand up between your thighs. 

Of course, despite bringing you to the edge several times, he never let you finish.  Because he’s the worst. 

And now you’re all worked up and he’s shirtless and being a stupid, pretty, two-faced bitch.

“I—”  you start. 

He rolls his eyes and says, “I know. I know.  You hate me.  Now go.”

You get up, stomping all the way to your walk-in closet.  You can’t even slam the door because it’s a sliding one, but you make the biggest possible demonstration of closing it anyway. 

You get ready for bed.   You briefly consider dressing provocatively or even strolling out there naked, but in the end you decide to just dress in your ugly, comfy, over-sized t-shirt and march angrily back into the room. 

Felix is gone when you return, probably off to double-check the house security one last time before joining you.   You could try climbing out the window and down the terrace, just to be ridiculous, but he’ll catch up sooner than later and be even more annoying about it.   So you get into bed and turn off the lights, laying down with a huff, blankets pulled up to your chin. 

You get a bit dozy before Felix returns, the creaking door snapping you awake.  You look over your shoulder and watch him finally shuck the jeans.  He gets into bed in his boxers, removing his earrings once under the covers.  He puts on the bedside table, then double-checks his gun is in the drawer, then and then only then does he lay down. 

The big bed leaves an ocean of space between you.  You roll over to face him.  His eyes are closed but there’s no way he is already asleep. 

“Felix,” you whisper, even though the big house is empty, “I’m cold.”

“There’s another blanket in the closet,” he says without opening his eyes. 

You slide across the bed, close enough to reach out and put a hand on his chest.  He opens his eyes and stares straight up. 

“I need a cuddle,” you say.  “Or I’ll have nightmares.” 

“You’re not a child anymore,” he says. 

That is maybe one thing you miss about the time before you and Felix started… this.  When things were still innocent between you, he would often let you snuggle up with him.  Now, he keep his distance.  Now, he doesn’t hug or hold you. 

So no one does.    

“We’re still young,” you say, a dumb argument, but you’re tired and out of ideas. 

“I was never as young as you,” he grumbles, more to himself than you.  He seems to realize what he said and shakes his head.  He pats your hand on his chest then rolls over, leaving his back to you. 

You slowly return your hand to yourself, staring at the back of his head with an uncharacteristic prickling of tears. 

Felix doesn’t talk about his life before this.  You just know that it was somehow worse.   Worse than being a watchdog.  Worse than giving up years of his life to protect someone else.   Worse than the times your father wanted to discipline you but learned that if he hit you directly you would just patch yourself up and move on, but if he hit Felix then you would break down and offer anything to make him stop.  

You can see a couple faded scars from those times, faint lines that cross his back, remnants of old belt lashings.  You touch one now, tracing your finger lightly from one end to the other.  You watch a shiver roll down his spine.   He doesn’t turn around. 

Giving up, you roll away, back to your distant side of the bed.  You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, but it just makes you well up with tears.  You sniffle, rubbing your nose messily on the back of your arm.    

Fabric rustles.  You suck in a breath when Felix slides up behind you, pulling you into the middle of the bed where he holds you snugly in his arms.   You immediately roll to face him, throwing a leg over his hip and burying your face in his neck. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, nothing else. 

“I hate you,” you say, then press a kiss just under his jaw.

“I know.”  He cups the back of your head as your kisses move down his neck.  “I know.” 

You make it to the middle of his chest before he turns you onto your back and gets up over you.  He kisses you properly, thumbs wiping your tears as his mouth makes you forget about the reason you cried at all.  All that matters is kissing him back, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him close as possible.  His sounds of pleasure are so deep and rough and rumbling. 

“Fuck me, please, please,” you say, pushing your fingers into his hair. 

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“You know we can’t do that,” he says. 

“We’ve done it before,” you say, purposefully canting your hips to rub against him, reminding him you are still so hot and wet from his finger-fucking, that only stupid underwear keeps you apart.  It has the desired effect, his brow furrowing as he holds himself still above you.  You peck his lips and string your arms around his neck.  “You know I’m on birth control now for that reason,” you say, a little sweetly, smiling up at him.  “Remember?”

He drops his face in the crook of your neck and makes an even crazier sound, shaking his head. 

“That was very, very irresponsible of us, you know,” he says. 

“Mhm,” you say, sliding your hand down his body to his waistband.  “It really was.  But it felt good, didn’t it?   Dangerous.  Coming inside me like that.”

Felix is right; that incident was very irresponsible.  You had already started your little cat-and-mouse game and ran out of condoms one night.  Because the two of you only have sex with each other, when that happened, you usually just fooled around until he pulled out. 

That time was… a lot.   You were pressed so tightly together and you were being painfully quiet because you weren’t home alone.  It was such a stupid time to mess around, but common sense leaves you when Felix is involved. 

That feeling is mutual.  Felix knew better too.   If he got you pregnant… the fallout with your father would be catastrophic for both of you.   Still, for that moment he was inside you, with your fingers laced together and pressed by your head, with your legs tight around him and his face in your neck, nothing else seemed to exist.  You were two normal people who were allowed to do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted.  It was a breathless, momentary fantasy, holding him tight and telling him to come, shuddering at the noise he made as he did just that.   You didn’t even panic after the fact.   You let the moment linger for as long as it could, still pretending you were normal, still pretending it was fine. 

You started birth control soon after, telling your father it was to regulate your period.   He waved it off, not wanting to hear more.  

Your father has truly never suspected a thing.  He doesn’t see the people around him as people, just objects, so it makes sense that he sees nothing in Felix but a soldier.  He doesn’t know anything about Felix.  Doesn’t know the pattern of his freckles or how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles.  Doesn’t know he has a sweet tooth and will dump a thing of sugar in nearly everything.  Doesn’t know what he finds funny, doesn’t know what makes him sad, doesn’t know anything at all.  

You drag your calf up the back of his leg.

“Felix,” you say. 

He gives you no chance to say more.  One second you are in limbo, the very next he has shoved down both his boxers and your underwear and is already pressing into you.  Only nonsense leaves your lips after that, your eyes closing as he works your body like a familiar and well-loved instrument.   He knows it as well as you do.  As you do his.  It’s easy to work him up, to get him as close as you. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, changing position so he’s kneeling.  He puts one of your legs up against his chest, levelling you with an amused smile.  “You’re trying to get me to finish first,” he says. 

“What? Noooo…”  Your giggle turns into a gasp.  You can be as loud as you want but you bite your fist anyway, hiccupping with a choked back sob of pleasure when he finds an angle that makes you see stars. 

“Yes, you are,” he says.  “But you won’t win.” 

“I will,” you say.

“Uh-uh,” he says. “Sure.” 

He makes you come twice before he does.  He even starts pushing you towards a third but you are so oversensitive that it makes tears fall.  He cups your chin and looks at you, cursing. 

“You’re so mean,” you say, smiling through your tears.  “Getting off to me crying.”

“I’m—not—I just—”

“Liar,” you tease.  “You totally are.”

He just giggles.  Then he flips a switch and goes from cute to something else, grabbing your throat and fucking into your oversensitive pussy so good and hard that you cry out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he says.  “Got you.  Got you.  I—”

You kiss him and he comes, sinking into you with dick and tongue and breath, filling you and surrounding you.  

You hold him close, arms tight around him, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours.   When he tries to lift away, you pull him back, making him laugh softly. 

“Stay,” you say, and repay his torture by squeezing him inside you, knowing it will make him twitch and jerk with oversensitivity of his own. 

“You never make it easy for me, do you,” he says with no animosity. 

You shake your head and smile like you’re proud of that.  He laughs then kisses you.   The kiss is good and thorough and sweet, completely loving, affectionate.  It gets your heart racing despite everything you just did.  You rest your hands on his chest and gently push him back. 

“I still hate you,” you say, because you have to say it, because the opposite would be too dangerous to ever say.  You can’t even let that word enter your thoughts, certainly never let it leave your lips.  If you held that word in your mouth for even a second, you would become addicted to it.   So you glare at him with all passion you can muster and say,   “I hate you so much.”   You sniffle when he wipes your tears away.   You turn your face.  “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone.” 

“I know,” he says in a strained voice.  He presses his forehead to your temple and exhales.   “I know, sweetheart.” 

Hey you amazingly gorgeous person! Do you write oneshots? If you do, could you do a jealous Felix x Y/N smut? 🫣🫣

I’ve literally had an idea like this in the works for a while. I just haven’t had the time or bandwidth to work on it. But, since it was requested, I’ll try to get a good start on it. Thank you 💕

Skz forgetting their s/o bday!

+ I enjoy your writing and felt like letting you know that you’re appreciated! Thank you!!

SKZ Reaction To Forgetting Their S/O's Birthday

Genre: light angst, fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks for the request!

Chan:

To be honest, I think it's unlikely that Chan forgets your birthday at all. He's good about those sorts of things and would set a calendar reminder just to make sure. If he did forget your birthday, it would likely be due to his schedule or overwork. Instead of making a huge gesture to beg your forgiveness, he'll simply show up with flowers, an apology, and your gift. It's so sincere that it's enough.

Minho:

He would think Felix was joking at first when he mentioned it was your birthday. When he realized that it wasn't a joke, he would immediately drop whatever he was doing to go get a last minute gift and come to your side. I think he would pretend like he remembered at first, but if you call him out on it, he'll admit it and apologize profusely. Ultimately, you'd get an extra cuddly and affectionate Minho which was rare, so it made up for it.

Changbin:

This poor man would absolutely hate himself. At first, he would isolate to collect himself and his thoughts. Early the next morning you'd wake up to dozens of flowers, a copious amount of your favorite snacks, and an apologetic Changbin. You'd spend the rest of the day watching movies and eating snacks. From then on, he'd set a reminder in his phone to ensure this never happened again.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin would rely on you to remind him because he is hopeless at remembering birthdays other than his own and Kkami's. If he did end up forgetting it, depending on how much importance his partner puts on their birthday, he would sacrifice sleep to take them to dinner. If his partner didn't care too much for birthdays, he would give them their gift a few days late and apologize for missing it on the day.

Jisung:

Similar to Changbin, this man will beat himself up. He'll probably shyly apologize and practically beg with his eyes for you not to be mad. He would spend the next two to three days making it up to you. This may include bringing you your favorite boba, letting you pick takeout every night, and taking you for walks along the Han River. After letting him stew for a bit, you'd tell him that it really wasn't a big deal.

Felix:

Honestly, Felix would be surprised if he forgets his birthday. It would likely only happen if they were preparing for comeback or if he thought it was on a different day. Luckily, he ordered your gifts well in advance and so he is able to give them to you with an apologetic look that makes it impossible to be mad at him. Expect a soft Felix for a few days with lots of forehead kisses, playing with your fingers, and the sharing of a playlist of songs he wrote for you.

Seungmin:

He may not see it as a big deal at first because if you forgot his, he wouldn't care too much. However, if his nonchalance causes a fight, he would realize just how much your birthday meant to you. He'd take you out to a nice restaurant and take you shopping after to pick out anything you wanted. Back hugs, soft and shy compliments, and later he'd send a large text about how he's sorry and how much he loves you.

Jeongin:

Similar to Minho, he may try to joke about it, but for him, this is an awkward deflection tactic as he figures out what exactly he's going to do. When he realizes you're mad mad he'd leave to pick up some of your favorite things as well as the present he had actually gotten you months ago in preparation for your birthday. Still, he knew gifts couldn't totally make up for it, so he'd make sure to be extra gentle and eventually talk about it.

I apologize for the inactivity as of late. My life is in the process of changing majorly (and likely for the better, but it is going to be hard for a while). I’m going to try and at least get a reaction up this week.

Even though this change is good, I am still an anxious and depressed mess, even on my meds. It’s slowly getting better and I promise I have not abandoned y’all.

I also am thinking about opening up commissions. However, I do not think I could handle long ones. Would y’all still find say a 1K smut, angst, fluff, etc. scene worth it? Would you be interested if I offered commissions?

If you want to support me otherwise, my kofi is linked in the pinned post. I do not expect any monetary gain from my writing here, I will post regardless.

Thanks for reading and I’ll update soon 💜

[if you're scrolling down this tag this is your sign to put a pfp on and add an age indicator to your bio or you might get blocked by writers. it makes your blog look like a bot. also if you like something around here, reblog it! it's the best way to let the writer know you enjoyed. that's all for today ♡]

SKZ Reaction To Painting Each Other’s Nails

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Quick note that I am still accepting requests, but there are certain ones I will not do. I decide this at my own discretion, but if you have any questions, feel free to message me.

Chan:

Chan is going to do his very best to paint your nails neatly. He'll even look up the best quality polishes and might even invest in a nail dryer if y'all do it often. At first, it's a little messy, but after a couple times, he will become an absolute pro. He also loves when you paint his nails, even if he has to take it off for promotions or appearances. Though, he sometimes leaves it on for Chan's room.

Minho:

Like with many things you do together, Minho will act like it is such an inconvenience. Yet, he is almost always available at the same time every week so you two can paint each other's nails. When he's away, he'll even try to Facetime you while you do yours. He loves it and is secretly pretty good at painting your nails. Minho also is meticulous about caring for the nail itself. While he would be okay with you painting his nails whatever color you want, you usually just do a few clear coats because it pains him to take it off for his activities.

Changbin:

It all started when you would do your nails in the studio while he was working. You were messing around one day and painted his pinky finger. Eventually, he started doing yours. At first, he was pretty messy. He felt so bad about it that he called his sister for advice. Still, even if they were a bit messy, you enjoyed seeing him bent over your hand and gently applying the polish. You normally painted his too, but it didn't last too long with all of his working out and such.

Hyunjin:

We all know Hyunjin likes to paint and so when he sees you painting your nails one day, he asks if he can try. This man would create tiny masterpieces on your fingernails. It became a nice point of bonding for the two of you. Even if you fought, you stuck to the tradition and often ended up making up after the first hand. With Hyunjin, you saved so much money because you didn't have to go to the salon. With his nails, even though you were much less skilled and could barely paint your own nails well, he was encouraging and always complimented them when you finished.

Jisung:

It's his favorite time of the week, tbh. He occasionally would do his own nails for fun, but when he learned you wanted to do them, it became routine. Jisung wasn't too confident about doing yours, despite having done his own for so long. He said your nails were too pretty and he didn't want to make them look bad. When you insisted though, he would do it and come to enjoy picking out a different color every week.

Felix:

It always happens late at night. Often, he will come home from a long day and you will help him relax by painting his nails. Felix likes to watch you focus and you have to constantly tell him not to touch anything cause he's trying to move hair out of your face or rub your arm lightly. While he preferred to watch you do his, he would do yours, but would sometimes get nervous about it, even though he usually did a fairly decent job.

Seungmin:

Under absolutely no circumstances will he admit that he takes great care and pride in painting your nails. It took a while to get Seungmin to do it, but you discovered that he had a secret talent for it. He was so careful and had a remarkably steady hand. Like Minho, he usually let you do a few clear coats because he wasn't necessarily a fan of nail polish and didn't want it to interfere with his schedule.

Jeongin:

You hadn't expected Jeongin to be so cool about you painting his nails. When you suggested it on a quiet date night in, you thought he would laugh it off. Instead, the two of you painted on matching nails and you couldn't resist taking photos of your matching nails. From then on, the two of you always took the time to paint each other's nails during movie nights.

SKZ MTL Enjoy Giving Oral

Genre: smut

Warnings: smut

A/N: based on the receiver having a vagina. I can do one for penis having people later :)

Most

Chan Felix Minho Changbin Jisung Jeongin Hyunjin Seungmin Least

The Aussie Line, Chan and Felix, are always apt to please their partners. Also, have you heard some of the songs Chan listens to? He is absolutely not opposed to eating you out and will do so eagerly. Felix tends to prefer it as foreplay and a precursor to actually fucking you.

Minho and Changbin will do it if you ask, but it may not necessarily be something they offer all the time or do during a spur-of-the-moment encounter. That said, they do enjoy it and will occasionally surprise you by heading downstairs. They likely enjoy it as much as receiving.

Jisung and Jeongin may prefer receiving slightly more, but will still be in the mood to give you oral sometimes. Similar to Felix, I think they are going to do it more as a form of foreplay and will rarely do it without actually fucking you after. They also like you to reciprocate later.

Hyunjin and Seungmin are not against it by any means, but definitely prefer receiving over giving. Hyunjin may offer it, but Seungmin rarely will unless he's really teasing you. Still, if you enjoy receiving, they will still give it to you, especially to reciprocate.

DESTINY’S DESIGN, lee minho

⎯⎯ pairs ‣‣‣ lee minho x fem!reader ⎯⎯ rating ‣‣‣ 16+ ⎯⎯ genre ‣‣‣ enemies to lovers ‣ strangers to lovers ‣ prince!minho ‣ princess!reader ‣ arranged marriage ‣ married!au ‣ royal!au ⎯⎯ warnings ‣‣‣ arranged marriage ‣ women having no rights 🥴 ‣ horrible historical accuracy ‣ inappropriate language ‣ food mentions ‣ sword fighting [training only] ⎯⎯ word count ‣‣‣ 16.4k words ⎯⎯ notes ‣‣‣ i made many promises that i would bring back two (maybe three) of my old royal!au's and this is the first of that <3 the story is easily a personal favourite of mine, i love their dynamic far too much.... and i also may write a smut drabble for this couple as a sort of sequel if people are into that <3

The first time you met Prince Minho was the day your engagement was announced. A chess piece in the politics of royal life, it didn’t even matter that you were only ten years old - for as a princess it was your duty to look after the kingdom. It had been a celebratory ball for the Kingdom of Elaria and its triumph over the beast which had been plaguing it, and yet the King and Queen of Elaria (as well as your own parents) found it best to announce their plans for a treaty that night.

As the princess of the Kingdom of Narin, it was your role to play in the treaty. Just as it was Prince Minho’s job to play his. No one dared consider both of you children - despite your being ten and Minho eleven - because they were far too focused on the possibility of peace between the two strongest kingdoms in the land. 

While you had worn a bright smile at the announcement and played your part as perfectly as one could, on the inside you were screaming. Why was it expected of you to have to create peace, you were but a child, when there were plenty of adults with experience who could unite the two kingdoms in their own ways. Neither your parents nor the King and Queen of Elaria had been forced into an arranged marriage, and yet it was being forced onto you and Prince Minho.

Perhaps that was why, once the ball was over and you were escorted back to your carriage with your heavily pregnant mother, you had glared fire toward the future king of Elara… your future husband. He, unsurprisingly, glared right back at you with as much fury before bowing to your father as he big the royal family goodbye. 

Your mother had seen the exchange and hugged you in comfort once inside of the carriage. I am sorry, my dear, she had whispered into your ear while you attempted to not sully either of your gowns with salty tears, it is for the best. 

You understood that peace was always the most important thing when it came to politics, but you couldn’t help your jealousy toward your parents. When your mother was a princess she was free to marry whomever she wanted - specifically the stable boy, your father, who she had grown enamoured with. It was precisely that which made your situation a reality, the kingdom of Narin had fallen after a non-royal was sworn in as king.

At least your father was a great king and a great father. It may have even been that which fueled your jealousy and anger even more, why couldn’t he be like the evil royals in the fairytales your mother would read to you at night. Even after your mother passed away during the birth of your triplet siblings, he was still the caring father you always knew.

Your curiosity about your supposed fiance had landed you in your current situation; standing on the balcony of the Elarian castle while, yet another, ball went on behind you. It had been ten years since your first, and only, meeting with Prince Minho and you had managed to sneak your way into the ball with your royal advisor, Chan, and personal knight Changbin. 

Bringing them with you was the only way neither of them would inform your father of your plan to infiltrate the kingdom. It wasn’t that you had anything bad planned for him, rather you just wanted to learn about someone you were destined to rule a kingdom with, but you knew that your father would never allow you to leave with only two means of protection. He had grown ever so protective over you and your brothers since your mother’s passing.

The feathery mask you had worn to the masquerade ball was still cast over the top half of your face, just in case someone tried to come onto the balcony - you couldn’t allow anyone to know you were the princess of Narin. Especially before the treaty, and your marriage, were finalised, the people of Elaria still held a certain disdain for your kingdom. 

Chan had already been escorted away by a woman wearing a black feathered mask while Changbin had been caught in a conversation with another knight he had known in training, Jisung. Meaning you were giving the space you needed out in the cool air of the night, exactly what you had been needing through the tension of stupid Prince Minho refusing to show up for his own ball.

The Kingdom of Elaria was known to throw balls for unneeded reasons, case in point, the current ball celebrating Prince Minho’s departure for Narin in two days’ time. The only reason that Elaria wasn’t shamed by all the other kingdoms was because of its overarching power in wealth and strength. Had it been your kingdom wasting utilities in the way Elaria was, there would be a mutiny formed between the two other kingdoms of the land.

“I didn’t realise that another person would be out here,” stopping yourself from leaning on the castle railings and straightening your back, what kind of princess gets caught with such awful posture, you turned to look at the man who intruded on your privacy. He wore a dark red and black suit, with a matching mask across the top half of his face, and you caught yourself staring into the deep brown eyes watching you from the mask. “I’ll give you your space.”

You turned away from the man, in an attempt to ignore the slight fluttering in your chest at how he was watching you, and looked up at the night sky - admiring the stars dancing along the black abyss. “It is quite alright, you may stay.” You glanced back into the ballroom through the windows of the balcony door, it was still overflowing with people in their finest attire and all wearing masks. Only the King and Queen were exempt from the mask rule, the two watching from a slight tower and talking with a palace guard. “I don’t blame anyone for wanting to escape the crowd.”

They had to be asking after their eldest son. This party was in his honour after all and yet he doesn’t feel like showing up? What kind of husband was he to make, or a king for that matter? 

“I take it that you aren’t a fan of dances?” The man came to your side and looked up at the stars with you, his cologne invading your senses. The crest of the Elarian kingdom was pressed into the cuff of his suit jacket, gold lines forming the unfortunately familiar symbol. Soon that very thing would be delicately pressed into your own clothing, marking you like a piece of property to create peace. 

You looked to his face, only to see the man already looking at you, his eyes rushing over the parts of your face in view, perhaps to try and recognise you. “Not in the slightest,” you smiled at him, “I only came here for one reason.”

“Let me guess - a beautiful woman like you,” you tried your best to not physical show how flustered his compliment made you. As a princess, you were subject to many compliments by many different people, it was something you had to grow used to early on, and yet when this stranger called you beautiful you felt butterflies in your stomach, “must be searching for the prince.”

With a roll of your eyes and a groan, two very un-princessly actions that the people of your royal court often berated you for. “Unfortunately, you would be correct.” You tried your best to keep a strong smile on, as you had been taught to do since birth, but you were sure that the stranger could see the tenseness in your jaw and the clenching of your teeth. “And yet the man of the hour has yet to grace us with his presence.”

A teasing smirk found its way onto the man’s face, “I take it you are a part of his fan club, then?”

The knowledge that Prince Minho actually had a fan club, and that it was not just a rumour that Chan had teased you with, made you want to gag. It was no surprise that he couldn’t be bothered to show up at his own ball, it seemed that everyone would send him praise no matter what it was that he did. If you were the one in his place, you shuddered to think of the laws you would be breaking as the future queen. 

But, of course, the future king was free of punishment. He got everything he wanted, was free to do whatever it was he wanted - and you were stuck having to twist yourself in circles just so that you would be given a second look, instead of ignored for being a woman.

“What gave me away then, sir? Was it that I discussed him with an obvious lack of enthusiasm?”

He shook his head, “No, not that.”

While you were curious to ask him more, it wasn’t often you encountered a man that allowed you to joke around, and even play along with them, the sight of Changbin gesturing you inside with frantically wide eyes pulled you back into reality. You dusted off the skirt of your ballgown and cleared your throat, a little tradition you put yourself through before formal appearances.

Yes, they did not know you were the princess of Narin, but you couldn’t afford to be caught unprepared.

“I shall see you inside then,” you walked away from the balcony railing and to the door, looking over your shoulder to smile at the man. “I am off to go and find the prince.”

“Or,” the man walked up to your place in front of the glass balcony door and caught you in his piercing stare, making you freeze in place. He was standing tall in front of you, making you try and match his height by straightening your back and pushing your chest forward, but it still failed, “you could allow me the privilege of a dance?”

Your mother always used to say you could tell a lot about a man in the way he carried himself. She had told you all about how that was what originally drew her to your father, and described him as confident and compassionate despite his lower-class status. That even as the princess who was meant to marry a prince, she was always meant to fall in love with him. 

From the way the man had glided the pair of you to the centre of the ballroom, the way he placed his hand upon your waist and secured your hand in his - you were sure that your mother would have approved of him immediately. Confidence is a very handsome quality, she would tell you when placing her usual three sugars into her tea, however never confuse confidence with conceit. The two are a fickle pair, my love, and do not allow any man to trick you with it.

The man was very obviously a confident person. From his proud smirk as he directed the waltz between you both, obviously aware of the multiple eyes watching him, and the straight posture of his back. The way he spoke, in terms of grammar and wording, showed a history of education - something not a lot of people were fortunate enough to be gifted with - and he was nothing if not observant. A man from a high place in society, if you had to guess, the only question being what position did he hold in the world’s hierarchy.

He twirled you with ease, if you were to hazard a guess he was a trained dancer, and smirked your way. The warmth radiating off of him was nearly sweltering with each sway of the dance, the duos of people dancing around you doing nothing to help alleviate you of the heat. Was there a chance that the confident man knew of your predicament?

Because after the next spin he leaned in close, pressing his sharply dressed chest against the corset trapping your own, and whispered into your ear. “You are a lovely dancer, my lady.” Over his shoulder you could see Chan looking directly at you too, a big smile on his face that made you want to cry aloud - while you did care for Chan, he was far too invested in your love life. 

“I could say the same thing for you, sir,” the words seemed to be interwoven with a certain poison that did not suit a princess, and yet you found yourself slowly getting addicted to that feeling he brought out in your veins. You glanced at him through the corner of your eye, finding the man, once again, already looking at you and smirking. “Am I going to learn your name?”

He shook his head and squeezed your waist slightly, “Names are meaningless in this world,” his words seemed filled with spite despite the quiet tone he spoke with, as though if someone heard him mutter them something horrid may occur, “all that matters is whether you can be used as a chess piece for politics.”

“I wholeheartedly agree, good sir.” 

Nearly word for word had this strange man conveyed emotions that it seemed only you felt. You had always tried your best to keep your frustration at bay, especially when it came to your younger brothers (by ten years) but the older you were getting and the closer you were getting to the wedding date, your anger was getting harder to bear. Why was it that you were to be sold off to another kingdom while three ten-year-olds were to be trusted to overlook the kingdom you could rule yourself?

Why were they free to make their own choices while you were stuck under the choices of the royal court? 

“Then, it is agreed,” the violins playing around you were winding up to the climax, and ultimate ending, of the song - and the pace of the dance joined in the speed of the music. His eyes through the mask seemed to be the only things not moving along with the violins, rather they were staring into your own with a grounded stillness, “no names are to be shared.”

Though you had no plans of telling the man your true name and rank in the world’s hierarchy, the confirmation from the man himself snapped a tight cord in your stomach and allowed your shoulders to sink slightly. A princess should never be too relaxed, Lady Belvielle would always chide during your lessons as if you would pay attention to her words. Yes, you were royal, but you had also been a child who simply wanted to run in the field with the others.

“It seems you have taken the words from my mouth, once again, sir.” The song came to an end and, once again, you saw Changbin gesturing you to his side - with both him and Chan standing off to the side of the ballroom beside the exit. You removed his hands from your waist and took a step back, the butterflies in your stomach dissipating at the lack of warmth from him. “It was a lovely dance, sir, but I really must be leaving now.”

You always knew you were meant to leave early in the night, it was the only way that the three of you could sneak back into the castle without your father knowing. Or your brothers catching you and using it as blackmail, the little devils. Though you knew this, you were angry at yourself (and especially Prince Minho) for not learning about your fiance.

Which was the entire purpose of you sneaking out of the castle in the first place.

“But, you never told me of your fascination with the prince…”

Just what had made this man so curious about why you were at the ball in the first place? Why you were also just as curious as to why he was at the ball, about who he was in the world, but you weren’t asking him questions about that. While both of you were educated and, clearly, trained in the etiquettes of political life, you were sure that your hesitancy to ask came rooted in your differences in said education.

The Kingdom of Elaria as well as your home in Narin were two very different kingdoms, however, both were very similar in the ways they educated and train the people who could afford it. As in while the men were treated like human beings and were gifted the ability of choice, you were stuck being told of your role to please the males in your life.

The constant comments from Lady Belvielle about how your baby brothers were all better than you were a reminder of your situation. Every time she would mutter those words, you would have to bite your tongue at the fact only one of them was able to properly use cutlery during mealtimes.

As a woman, princess or not, you had to keep silent even if all you wanted to do was scream. And yet, you smiled at the stranger, hoping to convey the slight mischievousness you felt burning through your taught behaviours. “A lady must always be two steps ahead, sir.” You took another step away from the man, already feeling cold from the removal of his warm chest pressed against your own. “I, however, prefer to be four.”

It was a rare opportunity that you were able to run around the palace grounds with your brothers, but it was one you took in spades whenever presented to you. You were far too old to be playing around like that of a child, but when your three brothers had come running up to you and interrupting your readings on the history of Elaria. You had decided long ago that if you were meant to become the queen of the Kingdom of Elaria, you would at least do your best to know of the kingdom’s history, its triumphs and its downfalls. 

But you had eagerly put the book away and chased the three ten-year-olds out into the palace gardens for a game. Now, the sun has risen to the centre of the sky and you’d seen many of the palace maids rushing around in a panic - most likely because of the lunch hour ringing closer and closer. 

You were hiding atop one of the trees in the palace garden, your everyday heels laid resting on the grass below to give you better traction against the wood. Your youngest brother had decided to play a game of chase, with himself as the chaser, and you were not willing to let him win just because he was a child. Meaning, you decided to use the fact none of them were able to climb large trees against them.

It had been your mother who taught you to climb the tallest trees in the palace, while your father would stand on the ground and watch with slight panic as you both would climb higher and higher. She had even been able to do so in the largest and most beautiful gowns that a queen could have worn, her golden crown barely slipping off her head as she jumped up the trees. 

Your brothers did not share the same opportunity, and you were too protective over the memories to share them with the boys. They were allowed the freeness to do whatever they wished without judgement, so you rationalised that you could hold onto your only memories of the same thing. 

Palace maids and guards rushed around the garden, vain attempts to track down your brothers and yourself for mealtime. However, once you noticed Mrs Belvielle out amongst the maids and calling your name in her usual venomous tone, you pulled yourself higher into the tree to remain hidden. Had she caught you in the tree, dirt covering your gown and face with twigs complimenting the tilted crown on your head, you would be in for severe punishment. 

Your youngest brother was found relatively fast, his forearm grasped tightly in Mrs Belvielle’s hand as she berated him and wagged her pointy finger at the boy. She dragged him over to where your shoes were, discarded on the bench in front of the large tree you were hiding in, and moved that finger of hers to the evidence.

You’d never been so thankful for Mrs Belvielle having been chosen as your tutor after your mother had passed, she had never learnt of your ability to climb the trees in the garden. “Where if you daft sister, boy?” Her evil tone directed at your brother made your fingers clench around the branch you held onto, he was but a child and undeserving of her hatred. He shrugged his shoulders, something you knew that Mrs Belvielle hated everyone to do, not just yourself. “Use your words! We are educated people here, not lowlife scum!”

“I do not know, ma’am,” his voice was so frail and your heart clenched for your baby brother. He was the timid one out of the three and had always struggled under hateful stares - you were prepared to lose your place as the princess and slap Mrs Belvielle across her face, much like she would do to you during your punishments. “She has hidden, along with the rest of my brothers.”

The middle brother of the triplets was still hidden amongst the overgrown statues in the garden, perhaps the most silent and still you had ever seen him, while the eldest brother was being tugged into the castle by one of his chambermaids. “Blasted girl,” Mrs Belvielle cursed, her hand still tightly wrapped around your baby brother’s forearm, “she knows of what is happening today.”

Did you?

It was common that your father would inform you of the happenings of the kingdom, even if your presence wasn’t technically needed for the role. He enjoyed getting your opinions on what he should do or just what your opinion on certain matters was. There was an incredibly good chance that he had told you about what was happening in the castle today - however, you were not one to forget about these things. As a lady, you had to remember everything taught just to ensure no one would mark you as lesser, and yet you had no clue what was happening today.

Which was not a good thing at all, especially if your father had sent out your hated (which he did know) tutor, Mrs Belvielle. 

“He has already been waiting for five minutes,” she threw down your brother’s arm with spite and gestured toward one of the guards walking toward them both. The guard took your brother from her, something you were rather happy about, and lead him inside, “she is not going to ruin this treaty.”

Mrs Belvielle took your shoes and stomped away to find you and the final triplet, who was no longer hidden amongst the statues. You crawled over to the edge of the branch and looked around for him, spotting the ten-year-old prince running toward the tree where you were hidden. None of the guards nor chambermaids were following him, a feat you were shocked to have seen accomplished, and so you made your way toward the centre of the tree and started climbing down.

You were sure that pieces of bark, as well as grime, were ingraining themselves under your fingernails and toughening your feet as you lowered to the ground. When you landed, with a slight huff and stretch of your fingers to alleviate the slight pain, your brother stared at you with wide eyes.

“Why are you still out here! You were meant to be in the throne room long ago!” His words were rushed, and he continued to stare around the grounds at the guards and chambermaids - one of whom spotted you both and announced his finding of you. As if finding you would award him some prize from the king. 

Why was it that everyone except for you seemed to have known what was happening today? “What exactly are you talking about?” 

“Prince Minho!” 

Oh no. How could you have forgotten that today was the day that Prince Minho was arriving at your kingdom? It had been on the forefront of your mind for the majority of the previous week, and yet after you snuck back home from the ball at his castle - you were too focused on your studies to even think of the prince.

No wonder Chan had been fretting over you all day before you had left to play with your brothers. He had been making sure your hair was done perfectly, your dress suited your frame nicely and that your chambermaids had ensured you would be punctual. All of which were no longer so; your dress was covered in grime, your hair tangled with multiple leaves and you were running behind schedule.

“How could you forget!”

“If I learn of the answer, I’ll ensure you be the first one I tell.”

Picking up the skirt of your gown, you rushed into the castle with many of the maids and guards following you - you were sure they doubted you to go to the throne room on your own. It wasn’t exactly hidden news within the castle that you were unhappy with your engagement to Prince Minho. Your bare feet were crushing against the rocky paths in the gardens, you were desperate to curse out Mrs Belvielle for taking your shoes, and your tangled hair was whipping around in the wind, your crown luckily holding it in place.

How had you not gathered that the prince would be arriving today, Chan had forced you to wear your crown of all things! You knew you were smarter than that, and your little mistake was most likely to reflect poorly of you to the royal court and your future kingdom. Your throat felt as though it was being filled with sand as you ran through the mudbrick walls of your palace, the throne room being on the other side of the castle, what if your tardiness would end up with the engagement being cancelled? 

While the thought had created a stir of joy within your chest, the weight of your position as princess poisoned any relief you felt at the thought. If you did not go through with the engagement to Prince Minho, did not become the Queen of Elaria, then your home of Narin would be overrun and left for dead. 

You knew that there were worse things in the world to have happen to someone, your pain was coming from how you were being made a queen of all things, yet you couldn’t help your selfish sorrows. All you longed for was a choice in your own life, and yet you weren’t even gifted a choice in the dresses your wore every day.

The familiar large doors of the throne room stood tall in front of you, making you skid against the tiled floors of the castle and huff to catch your breath. More guards and maids were following you and calling your name, you even spotted Changbin running toward you with mad eyes, begging you to go to them before entering simply. But you couldn’t allow that - you were already late enough for the meeting as is.

And so you pushed the doors open and glided your way in, head held high while you straightened the crown rested atop your head. The skirt of your gown kissed the tiled flooring of your father’s throne room and you wore a bright, if tense and fake, smile as though you were not the one who was ten minutes late to Prince Minho’s arrival.

Your father, as well as two of your baby brothers, were sitting on their thrones and peering down at you - the two princes biting their lips to avoid laughing while your father was glaring with a fury you only associated with some of the court officials. He was wearing his velvet red robes, lined with the fur of a beast slain in the local village, and sat tall on his king’s throne. You knew that he was disappointed in your being late, and most likely for your decision to ignore your studies and play in the garden with your brothers, but you refused to let it show.

A princess is nothing to those around her if such measly things affect her. The royal court of Narin and the two other kingdoms in the land already despised you enough, if not for being the eldest sibling and female then for your mother’s decision to marry a stable boy instead of a royal. You couldn’t allow them any other reason to want to overthrow your beloved kingdom… your father.

A group of five stood in front of your father. Two of whom wore the armour branded with the royal crest of Elaria, one dressed in the robes of a castle mage and another dressed in an advisor’s uniform. The one who stood proud in the middle, dressed in robes befitting that of a king, was the only one who had turned at your sudden entrance into the room. And with his evil eyes and wicked smirk, you had to assume that was your beloved fiance.

Prince Minho of Elaria, the soon-to-be king.

Your teeth were clenched at the sight of him, still tight in a wide smile you hoped would blind him. How dare he be handsome and dressed to perfection while you wore a gown covered in dirt and hair tangled with leaves, not to mention your lack of shoes due to your so-called tutor. “Prince Minho,” you curtseyed before him and counted down from ten in your mind, your mother always said to do so when you felt like screaming, “it is lovely to see you after all these years.”

His eyes crinkled, the four members of his royal castle turned around to face you, and the prince bowed before you. “I must say the same for you, your highness.” The two knights, one you recognised as Changbin’s old friend Jisung, the mage and the advisor all bowed also. The prince’s head popped back up from his bowing stance and the wicked grin grew, making you halt in place on your way up to your abandoned throne. “There is mud upon your cheek.”

Was it too late for you to climb back up the tree?

After having spent two whole hours with the prince and his group, you had decided that he was going to make a rather awful husband. Your father had decided that it was you who would show the group of five around the castle, instead of Chan as originally planned, as a punishment for being late to the meeting. You had bristled when he decreed it, while the prince grinned at him, but still did your best to keep your true feelings buried deep.

Ten, nine, eight…

The entire tour had been filled with Felix (the other knight) talking to you as though you had been the best of friends, the mage Seungmin barely regarding anyone’s existence around him and Jeongin, the advisor, only joining in the conversation whenever he felt fit. Jisung had spent the majority of the tour watching you with squinted eyes, you had to continuously pretend to have not noticed and only hope he did not recognise you from the ball, but held the conversation between you and Felix well. Finally, there was Prince Minho, who was silent the entire tour unless he wanted to subtly insult you as though you were too dim to realise his true meaning.

It had been a blessing when you finally approached the row of rooms gifted to the five men, and you were finally able to escape them all and hide away in your room. You had practically run back to your bedroom chambers, finding both Chan and Changbin there waiting for you, along with the royal artist Hyunjin.

“All I wanted was for you to make a good impression!” Chan whined from your chair beside the fireplace, Changbin beside him stoking the flames. Had they acted so comfortable while anyone else was in the room, they would have been in for lashing for interacting with you with such commonness - it had taken you years to get them both, as well as Hyunjin, comfortable around you. Perhaps too comfortable considering Chan’s crying over your failed meeting with Prince Minho. “Where did your shoes even go?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed when Hyunjin helped you to tighten your corset of the dinner dress, your father wanted you to look your absolute best for the dinner tonight. “Devil woman stole them,” you grunted out, fingers flexing on your desk as it pulled tighter against your chest, “Christ Hyunjin you could warn a lady!”

“I was under the impression that ladies did not swear,” you could practically feel the smirk from Hyunjin, “I must be confused.”

Changbin scoffed from the fireplace and hung the fire poker away, “You should remember that she can send you to prison for bad-mouthing a royal.” 

The two began bickering, with Chan joining in every so often to provide his own opinions, while you remained quiet, focused on watching the starry sky from your window. You weren’t one for swearing, at least often, but if you ever did it would only be around these three men who you trusted most - your three best friends.

Your mind wandered back to the mysterious man that you met at the ball, the way his mischievous aura had wanted you to spit fire from your lips and dance amongst the flames. There was very little chance of you being able to meet the man again, but your heart was longing for it. He seemed to have posed as some figure of freedom in your mind, despite you not even knowing his name, and presented himself as your wants if you were gifted the ability of choice.

Somehow he had made you feel comfortable enough to want to lower the princess status you constantly compared yourself to. For once, it did not seem to be just out of reach as he shared your views of freedom.

Hyunjin tightened your corset a final time and tied it off, making you cry out as it dragged you back to reality despite your reluctance. You were desperate to stay in that space of delusion where you were free to share your thoughts without the approval of whatever man was closest. “Stop complaining, your highness,” he taunted with a smile, once again causing you to roll your eyes as though you weren’t a princess, “you asked me to help you.”

“I’m beginning to wish I had asked Chan,” you rolled your shoulder and turned back to look at the three men. Chan had discarded part of the uniform he was required to wear as the royal advisor and was left in a thin tunic, while Changbin was fixing up his under-armour for the dinner - your father had assigned him to guard you for the dinner in case of an assassination attempt to you or Prince Minho, “he understands the art of gentleness.”

Chan scoffed and stretched out in your chair, most likely to show that he was sitting in your favourite chair in the entire castle and not you, “There is no such thing as being gentle when it comes to those contraptions you wear.”

“You say that as if I have a choice,” your words were muttered as you pulled the dress on over the underskirt and corset. You were meant to have your chambermaids dress you, as they did all other days, but you had sent them all away for a break before the dinner, meaning you were left to have your own break with your friends. Like any other human would. “What time is this cursed affair, Changbin?”

He was struggling to pull on a part of his armour, so you went over and helped him to lace it up. Many people would have seen the action as the two of you being rather intimate, but this was something you often did for Changbin since you were both children, having grown up together with him always being your personal guard. The only time you two were away from each other for an extended time was when he went to Elaria for proper knight training.

Soon you would be away from him once again, with the wedding only a week away from the current day. You would be away from him, your other friends and your beloved family - all for a stupid agreement. 

Perhaps if you had known your fiance better, your whole purpose for having sneaked out two days earlier, the agreement of peace wouldn’t seem as hateful and terrifying. If you were sworn in to marry Hyunjin instead of a complete stranger you would still be unhappy, sure, but at least you would be comforted with having married a friend. Instead of a man you hated and returned the same emotions.

Never would you see his royal highness as something other than a man you despised. Even more than the men in the royal court.

“Your father wants you there early,” Changbin explained while your fingers quickly tied up his armour. You pulled the armour rather tight at Changbin’s words and quickly apologised to him after he grunted - you were sure that armour being on too tight was far worse than a corset being too tight, “within the hour.”

With his armour successfully on, and you having put on your best pair of heels, Changbin tugged you out of your bedroom chambers. You assumed that by within the hour, he really meant as soon as you were ready, as the knight you called one of your best friends dragged you through the castle halls.

Once you were before the tall doors leading to the dining hall, Changbin stopped and steadied you as you started to tumble. Had he been anyone else you would have cursed him out, but considering the long history you had with your guard, he got a slight pass. Though, you still couldn’t make yourself hold your tongue completely, especially considering the lack of anyone in the halls around you. “A warning is always nice, Binnie.”

“Of course it is,” he helped to straighten out the skirt of your gown while you prepared yourself to enter the hall, knowing that your father was there waiting to have a proper discussion about your earlier mistakes, “but you cannot afford to be late once again, princess.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed your hair behind your shoulders, still getting used to the newer cut that your chambermaids had given you the prior day. “Could you at least try and comfort me before my father attempts to take my head?”

Changbin pouted and, after doing a poor check of the hallway ends for any passing people, placed a dramatic kiss upon your cheek and wrapped his arms around you. “You will be fine, I promise.” He squeezed you tightly to his chest and you took a deep breath. Being in trouble with your father was a rare occurrence for you, but when it happened it was always a dramatic affair. 

He knew that which was why Changbin dared show physical contact toward you at the risk of anyone mistaking the actions for more. Usually, the both of you would be hesitant to show your love for one another, nothing more than familiar, in public - for it was shunned for a princess and her guard to be nothing more than strangers. It was as though none of them even cared that Changbin had been your childhood best friend first and foremost.

Though once Changbin went back to your chambers to collect Chan and ensure Hyunjin left the castle grounds safely, you wished that he hadn’t hugged you and kissed your cheek.  Because, as you opened the doors to the dining hall to meet with your awaiting father, you saw a silhouette quickly turn and run out of the hall - most likely having witnessed your interactions with Changbin.

You could only hope that the silhouette was a figment of your overactive imagination instead of an actual human. 

Jisung, Seungmin and their prince wouldn’t stop staring at you. They were sat at the opposite side of the table, all beside one another with Prince Minho in the middle, and had been glaring at you and Changbin since they first set foot in the dining hall for dinner. You had been wanting desperately to glare back at the trio and had your father not sat at the head of the table you would have done so instantly.

Your father’s chair was placed beside your mother’s - her name still delicately carved into it from when she had been feeling rebellious in her teen years. He sat taller than everyone else in the room and watched over you, and the prince, with tight eyes. He knew of your displeasure with the engagement, as well as Prince Minho’s if the letters from the King and Queen of Elaria were anything to go by, and yet he kept watching you both as if hoping for something.

Yet the only ‘something’ your father would get is the adorable knight Felix being the only one to speak in the tense atmosphere, “We have heard that her highness is a rider? A rather decent one at that.”

“Decent,” your father laughed at the idea and you looked down at your half-finished meal to ignore the oncoming embarrassment. Though there was a part of you that was glad he was still okay with bragging about you - as well as the chance it would make Prince Minho annoyed, “my daughter is the best rider in the kingdom!”

You looked to your left, over Chan and his place at the table, and gave your father a bashful smile. “Only because you are the one to have taught me, father.”

“Exactly right!” His comedically large frame rumbled under his laughter, head slinging back as though you had said something to rival the court jester. “If only I was able to teach your brothers the same talents.”

Jeongin looked up from his plate and eyed your father like that of a fox, “Are you no longer able to ride, your highness?”

“Of course I am!” Your father peered over his wine goblet to stare at the Elarian royal advisor with Jeongin staring right back at him. The three princes of your kingdom sat opposite your father, at the very end of the dining table, all three of their seats together. They were talking amongst each other, with Changbin leaning in to join their conversation every so often, and you looked upon them fondly. It filled your body with warmth to know that your brothers also saw the knight as family. “Those three are just far too erratic for an old man like me.”

“You speak ill of yourself, your highness,” you looked away from your brothers and Changbin to the prince, a sickly sweet grin on his face while he addressed your father. Both Jisung and Seungmin were still glaring your way, however, their prince had turned to stare your father in the eye with a slightly upturned nose. 

Your father smirked behind his goblet and tapped one of his ringed fingers against the metal, “Don’t think me daft for a few simple compliments, Prince Minho.” A princess should never play with her food, something Mrs Belvielle had been constantly reminding you of since she was first chosen to be your tutor, and yet you found yourself pushing one of the remaining vegetables across your plate. Until you felt a slight kick to the side of your left leg and you caught Chan slightly gesturing to your father with his head, making you straighten your back and smile brightly for the whole table. “The King and Queen have already told me of your hesitancy to marry my daughter.”

The prince’s gaze moved to you, once again, and those dark eyes of his burned into your own. “I see,” one of his eyebrows quirked upwards as Prince Minho sipped from his own goblet of wine, a smirk starting to form upon his lips, “I have also heard from my parents that the princess herself is rather opposed to our union…” He placed the goblet down and squinted at you, that devilish smirk on his face only growing in venom. “… perhaps there is a certain reason why.”

His eyes flickered over to Changbin, who had moved back to his place behind you, and you started to glare at the prince. Even if your father caught your actions to the prince, you simply did not care as your ego and reputation grew tarnished under Prince Minho’s hidden accusation. At least you knew why he and two of his followers were watching you the entire dinner, they believed you to be engaging in an affair with Changbin.

How idiotic they were.

“The only reason for my reluctance toward our marriage, your highness,” the words felt like sand to be sat out of your dry mouth. You couldn’t let more of your manners fall when there were far too many people in the room who did not know you well enough, so you had to continue referring to the prince by his titles. Though you were sure that he had done nothing to have truly deserved such things except for being born to the right family, “is from my own beliefs regarding the politics of our world.”

“Then I take that you would not be opposed to informing me of said beliefs?”

“I would be happy to,” your smile grew tense as the two of you stared each other down. There was no chance of the prince sharing your beliefs around arranged marriages and the position of women in the world, it was an insult in your opinion for him to act as though he was. You knew that he was just wanting to gain more of a reason to avoid marrying you, which you would be fine with had you not known that the world would blame you for him breaking off the engagement, “however I do not feel such discussions are to be had over dinner.”

Your father also shared a majority of your beliefs, if the number of debates he had with the court officials over your attendance in their meetings and his own admittance told you of such, however, his tight stare at you said otherwise. You could not give any reason to ruin the marriage, the promise of safety for your kingdom, which you were terrified to do. It may have put your own beliefs aside, but the safety of your people was far more important than your state of ownership.

Though if any of your trusted friends were to give you the opportunity, you would complain about it until the sun went through its daily cycle.

“I see,” Prince Minho’s fingers ran around the base of his goblet, eyes refusing to leave yours. It was as though you had both entered a battle of wits with one another, neither of you stepping down from the unspoken challenge, “then we shall discuss this tomorrow.”

Changbin stepped forward from behind you, his head moved to rest upon your shoulder, “I do not believe that is necessary your highness,” his tone of voice was waving due to his hesitance. You knew that he was trying to keep the best interests of the kingdom, as well as you, in the forefront but simply from his voice you knew that the horrible prince opposite you would tear him apart. Royals did receive the best training in how to wear a mask over your emotions.

“I don’t recall talking to you.” His voice was spiteful, his gaze moved to Changbin with fury and his jaw clenched. You kept your smile wide, though it grew in tenseness, even as Changbin moved away from you due to Prince Minho’s malice. 

You had been slightly expecting for Jisung - a friend of Changbin’s - to have hesitated slightly in his apparent anger toward you, at minimum look at his prince from the corner of his eyes in confusion. But there was nothing, the knight continued to stare at you without pause.

You hoped that he didn’t recognise you from the ball, especially considering how he knew that Changbin had been there that night. All you could hope was that he was daft enough to not tie you both together, or recognise that Chan, too, had been there. They were the people you were closest with, it would only take a few questions to some chambermaids for the clues to align.

“Prince Minho, I would ask you to never speak to my guard like that again.” Smile still wide despite your overactive mind, and the feeling of everyone in the room watching you as your eyes fluttered. As your mother always said, a woman’s best weapon is her innocence - even if it is a lie. “We are to be married despite both of our unhappiness, so please, take your anger out on those who organised it. Not an innocent bystander.”

He leant slightly forward in his seat, “You seem to be looking forward to our wedding despite your apparent frustration, princess.”

“Believe what you wish, your highness, it only proves how idiotic you are.”

“Your words are teasing,” the prince took another sip of his wine from the goblet, “perhaps you are part of my fan club back in Elaria.”

Do not choke. 

A princess does not show her true emotions in public.

Ten, nine, eight…

“Though I have no desire to offend you, I must be honest and say I would rather be beheaded.”

The prince sat back in his chair with a mischievous smirk, something which should not have been attractive in the slightest. “I sense a liar in you, princess.”

The warm candle glow through your chambers kept you awake as you reread the same sentence on the history of Elaria. You were sitting at your desk, only your nightgown providing you warmth through the cold night air, the sigh of your bed to your left growing more and more desiring. Though as much as you longed to crawl into its warmth, you had to catch up on your studies from the day, and so you continued to read over the sentence again and again.

Though the kingdom was founded upon magical properties - magic is a rare trait to come by, with history marking that mages only appear once every hundred years. 

You had already read all about the magical history of Elaria, as well as the supposed rumours of the curse on the royal family, but barely any was sticking in your mind. It was far too late in the evening and too much had happened during the day for you to process more information. 

A loud knock on your chamber doors woke you up from your daydreams of bed. “Come in,” you called out, assuming it to have been your chambermaids with the herbal tea you had requested from the palace mage to help you focus. 

Suffice to say it was not your chambermaid with your tea, but Seungmin and Jisung. 

You felt as though you had been caught in the middle of a crime, your arms immediately going to wrap around your chest - why did your nightgown have to be so thin! The two didn’t seem to entirely care about your state of dress, rather walking inside and inspecting you from their upturned noses. 

“Can I help you both?” Your voice was tight as you spoke through a smile of clenched teeth. You were usually far better at controlling your emotions around others, but usually, you were completely dressed and prepared. 

They both looked at each other, presumably deciding who was to talk and then snapped their judging eyes back to you. “What is your business with Changbin?” Jisung accusingly asked you - nearly using all of your self-control to keep yourself from audibly fuming at the accusation once again sent your way.

Even if there was something between you and Changbin happening, why must it only be you paying the price? Two people were needed to have an affair and yet it seemed in everyone’s unfounded minds that only you were to blame.

“I beg your pardon?” All you hoped for was a few extra moments of time to complete your facade of indifference, or at least wear the slight mask of content with spitting venom at the two. 

Seungmin stepped toward your seat at the desk, looking over your shoulder at the book you were reading. “Before tonight’s dinner, I saw you and the knight together - where he kissed your cheek and hugged you.”

“And?” You should never have doubted that silhouette you saw in the castle hallways, your instincts were very rarely wrong. “He was comforting me before my discussion with my father.”

“Comforting which involves such intimate physical touch?”

You stood up from the desk and straightened your posture before the two men, dropping your arms from your chest. While there was the chance it presented you with less dignity in their minds, in your own it displayed your own idea of confidence and lack of irritation at being caught in such circumstances.

With a still sickly sweet yet tense smile you flickered your hair over your shoulder, “Between Changbin and I that would be correct - although it is nowhere near as intimate as your mind is making it out to be.”

The two waited to speak, as though your explanation was not enough for them. You wanted to scoff at the idea, you owed them no information regarding your life. While you understood how they had to ask about romantic affairs, you were engaged to their prince and friend, it was not as though either of you cared for one another.

“If you must know,” you decided it would be easier to get them out of your chambers if you told them, though your pride did take a stabbing, “Changbin and I grew up together. He has been my best friend since we were children and he also knows how I can be before conversations with my father.”

You would have assumed Jisung to have at least hoped Changbin was not engaging in an affair with the princess, he did actually know him while the others had only seen him in passing. His tense features softened slightly at your explanation, which in itself made you feel slightly better for your friend - Changbin was far too loving a person to be disrespected by someone he trusted.

The two still refused to speak aloud, only communicating in quick glances between each other. You cleared your throat to gain their attention, “Is that all? Or have you both barged into my chambers for another reason?”

“That is all I have to ask,” Seungmin stepped out to the doorway of your chambers and looked over at Jisung. “Be quick, the maid will be here shortly.”

He walked out, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving you seething (though you did your best to keep it hidden) with Jisung still watching you closely. His armour was discarded for a loose black tunic and tight pants, you assumed he had been getting ready for bed before suddenly coming to your chambers.

You looked him up and down, a sneer already built upon your face - your usual mask of content gone. “Was there anything else you wanted to accuse Changbin and me of?” You had to bite your tongue to prevent going too far in your distaste for the accusation., no matter how much you wanted to continue with hidden insults. A princess must be above it, as Mrs Belvielle enjoyed reminding you.

“Not at this current moment,” Jisung looked around the room before walking toward you. His eyes did not meet yours, you were unsure of whether or not to be pleased by that, and instead settled on the way your hair fell without obstruction. “Why did you cut your hair?”

You tried not to let your shock show on your features - of course, Jisung had realised that you were at the ball. Something which would only make the prince believe that you were enamoured by him. 

“My chambermaid found it would be best to cut and tidy my hair before the wedding next week.” You gulped and looked away from Jisung slightly, there was no promise that your lie would work on the knight but you could only hope it would.

Your hopes were almost immediately destroyed once Jisung opened his mouth.

“Are you sure it’s not because you were at the prince’s ball?” The mask was slipping from your face and you weren’t sure if you could effectively put it back on before Jisung caught on. Ten, nine, eight… “Where you danced together before you suddenly left early in the night?”

Where you danced with him? Danced with Prince Minho?

How could you have not noticed? His similar snarky eyes and the way you were always ready to lace venom in your words in the subconscious battle of wits. The way he was obviously trained in the etiquette of a royal and how he was clearly educated as much as you were.

How had Prince Minho managed to tangle your mind into a web of confusion twice in three days?

“I had no idea that was the prince, Jisung.” Your voice was quiet as you looked at the ground, your ego having been completely destroyed in under two minutes. How daft were you to have not connected the dots? “The thought that I had danced with him makes me sick to the stomach. Now, all I can ask is that you refrain from telling him such information.”

Jisung quirked up an eyebrow, “Why would I do such a thing? You were the one who snuck out of your palace to find him.”

“I only did such a thing to learn about who it was I am to be married to.” You looked up at Jisung with squinted eyes. He was grinning, most likely from the knowledge that a princess was currently indebted to him. “Surely you must understand that if you were in a similar position - marrying a stranger is rather terrifying, is it not?”

Jisung nodded, still grinning like a devil, and walked over to the chamber doors. “It is, I completely understand.” He opened the door, showing your chambermaid standing there with your tea balanced in one hand and the other raised to knock. “I shall leave you to your tea, your highness.”

He went around your maid and left to head to his own chambers, and you took a deep breath at his disappearance. You regained your composure and gestured for your chambermaid to enter, “Thank you Ryujin. And please, no questions about why Jisung was here.”

“Of course not, your highness.”

A lady is not meant to fight in physical battles - rather, she is to battle with wits and intellect. The men of the world are meant for the brutish battles filled with swords and grunts. 

That was the idea embedded in the mind of every person amongst the three kingdoms in the land. The idea that women were meant to be saved by men while doing nothing but crying into her handkerchief and waiting. Your mother had been opposed to such ideas, and before her passing, she had been in many arguments amongst the court officials around letting you train in defence.

Your father, too, had wanted you to learn about defensive fighting strategies - his own beliefs that every person should be gifted the ability no matter gender or status. Though once your mother passed away, he had given into the court’s demands of you learning music and dance instead of fighting.

The art of self-defence was something you had wanted to learn since your childhood, and it was only the previous week that you had managed to convince Changbin to teach you. But now, there were only five days before your wedding and you were to be sent to a new kingdom without him, and you had yet to learn proper sword fighting. 

He threw down his sword and groaned while you huffed, “You cannot be giving up, Binnie!” You whined with the sword still held tightly in your hand, you were smart enough to not save it around like a mad woman.

“Yes I can, you’re barely trying!” You could hear Hyunjin and Chan, both of whom had joined your training sessions to both watch you humiliate yourself and make sure no one came near the stables while you were there. 

Your jaw dropped and you huffed once again, “Why don’t you try to sword fight in a gown as opposed to armour.” Changbin had insisted that you wear a dress instead of a pair of his pants to keep your training more realistic - the chances you were wearing a dress when in need of defence was much more likely than in a pair of pants. “And I don’t want to end up hurting you on accident.”

“You would need to know what you are doing to be able to even touch him.”

With a quick glare toward your supposed lookouts, both of whom avoided your gaze and awkwardly stared at the ground, you turned around to come face to face with Prince Minho and his four associates. The prince in the middle smirking at your flustered frame, once again dressed in a dirt-coated gown and a sword held uncomfortably in your palm. 

You smiled at him, “Then it would seem you have realised the exact purpose of my training session with Changbin.” 

“He seems like a rather awful teacher, then.” Minho walked toward you, grabbing the sword that Changbin had thrown down in a fit, while the four others went over to Hyunjin and Chan. You were seething, how dare he interrupt your training! 

He flexed his fingers around the hilt of the sword, as if testing the weight of it in his hand, and stared you down. You felt as though you were frozen in place, the sword in your own hand feeling as though it had been attached to an anchor, all because of his stare. What had happened to you to have made a man’s gaze so intimidating?

You decided to blame it on your still shattered ego and how you didn’t know whether Jisung had told him of your having danced together. Confusion and unknowing had always caused you to act differently.

“Let me teach you.” As much as you wanted to scream aloud at the prince’s words, you kept your composure and merely straightened your posture. From your conversation back at his ball while dancing together (still, you felt like crying each time you remembered the enjoyment you had had with him) it seemed Prince Minho also viewed the politics of the world with as much hatred as you did.

So, in theory, you should not have been surprised that he wanted to teach you to fight. But it seemed to be a far too selfless thing for him to do, especially considering how desperate he was to get the wedding cancelled - it would seem the last thing he wanted was to help you. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because you are not wanting to accidentally hurt Changbin during your training,” he walked toward you and stopped just before your body, unfortunately, those tingly butterflies you felt when first meeting him after the ten years apart came back in your stomach, “you can train with me and hurt me all you want. The fiance you hate.”

You ignored how he had spat out the word tying your fates together, if you had said the word aloud you were sure that you would say it with as much hatred. “How did you know I would be here?”

“Jisung saw you training yesterday,” you gazed over at the knight and glared, if he had caught you training with a sword there was no point in trying to keep your royal mask alive. If he had told Prince Minho of your training in the stables the day prior, then who was to say that he hadn’t told him of your rendezvous in Elaria.

“And what if I end up slicing your lovely face, your highness,” your voice was laced with a venom that you sincerely hoped the prince would not recognise from your masked facade. If only you had been able to keep your true emotions at bay when he was around, “I doubt that your adoring fans would be happy with such a thing.”

He rolled his eyes and spun the sword in his hands, “You say that as though you have the strength to lift the sword,”

You interrupted your future husband’s insult by swinging the sword at his chest with a grunt, his own sword narrowly deflecting the attack. How dare he accuse you of little strength, you doubted that he had the will to last a day as a woman in this world - you would rather he and his friends accuse you of an affair with Changbin again.

Prince Minho smirked at you from behind the glint of both blades, the rest of his body language showing his relaxation while you were positively fuming. How was it that he could deflect your attack - he hadn’t even been prepared! Your body felt stiff as you held the sword in an uncomfortable position, your body contorted as though you had been cursed by the palace mage.

Though, from your limited interactions with Seungmin, you’d assume that to always be a possibility. 

He pushed hard against your sword, and though you tried your best to keep pushing back against his, the prince won the battle. Your sword dropped from your hands once your fingers bent backward and you hissed at the slight pain - while Prince Minho pointed the sword at your stomach, signalling your defeat.

“If you want to properly learn how to swordfight then I would recommend some basic techniques,” he removed the tip of the sword from your stomach and pointed it to the ground, a lazy smirk on his lips, “as opposed to your current tactic of waving the sword around like a mad woman.”

You looked him up and down with a sneer, “You dare call a woman mad when she holds a weapon in her hand? Perhaps you are more idiotic than I originally thought.”

Prince Minho walked up to you once again, close enough that his chest was nearly against your own. His warmth overtook your body as those daft butterflies returned to your stomach for the second time that day, and all he had done was step close to you. The prince stared down at you, that ignorant smirk still placed upon his face, oh how you wished to rip it off.

“You say that I am idiotic and yet it was you who continues to embarrass herself in my presence.” The prince tucked some of your loose hair behind your ear, the first time he had seen it unhindered from either a crown or being done up. “I believe you find me rather charming despite your words.”

Yes, he was definitely an idiotic prince - one who was about to meet the sharp end of your sword.

You kept glaring up at him while he smirked down at you as if he had not been trying to aggravate you. And while it was within your most precious dreams to personally be the one to remove the smirk from his lips, you simply smile and softened your eyes - though you were sure that fire was still angrily lit all over your expression. 

“They are going to have a rather lovely marriage,” you heard Changbin mutter from his seat amongst the other bystanders. You had forgotten that seven others were there, watching as you bickered with your fiance, though you once again decided to blame Prince Minho for that forgetfulness, “I can see it now.”

“You will see nothing if you dare say that again, Changbin.” You stared him down, knowing that he would take your words for the threatful promise that they were - he knew you far too well to suspect otherwise. “I will ensure that much.”

Prince Minho grinned, “For once, I agree with her royal highness.”

A wedding was supposed to be a happy affair. Your mother had told you all about her wedding to your father when you were young, how she had been so excited for the ceremony that all her nerves regarding becoming queen seemed like nothing at all. She had described the way your father’s eyes lit ablaze upon seeing her enter the room and how she had felt as though her heart was going to burst from joy.

It had left your young mind yearning for your own wedding - if not for a husband but for the apparent joy that it would bring. You had pictured having your mother and father watch you lovingly as the man who loved you more than himself slid a ring upon your finger, imagined that you would be dressed in the finest wedding dress throughout all three kingdoms in the land. Your hair would be loose, as you preferred it to be, and none of those nasty court officials would have halted you.

Even Changbin would be at the ceremony, you had always imagined him as having teared up at watching you get married, mostly because of the way he constantly said he would kill anyone who dared marry you. 

Then, the announcement regarding your engagement to Prince Minho was spoken and those dreams you had of your perfect wedding disappeared. How could you be excited to marry a complete stranger? Your husband was supposed to love you with his entire heart and yet you were destined for a cold man who would rather tease than properly talk.

As you stood in front of the wide doors with the perfect white dress adorned across your body and your hair loose across your shoulders, you felt none of what your mother had spoken of all those years ago. There was no excitement for the man waiting for you at the end of the hall inside the room, only nerves about whether or not the marriage would go through. There was always the chance the prince inside would run the second you walked up to him, you knew how much Prince Minho disdained the idea of an arranged marriage.

Then, there was the possibility of you, too, running from the wedding to save your hopes and dreams. Though it would doom your kingdom to anarchy and thus leave all those you loved in danger. No, you had to go through with the wedding - nervous regarding the treaty damned to the pits of your stomachs and the chambermaids opened the large doors and showed you off to the aisles of royals, courts officials and servants.

Perhaps, the only other thing you felt beside the nerves was your selfish sense of sorrow - you had always pictured your mother would be present on your wedding day. Even when the engagement to the Prince of Elaria was confirmed, she was still a firm part of your idea regarding the day. But, no, you only had your father and the three brothers that you cared for just as much.

Still, sometimes all a lady wants is her mother.

You glided down the hall with your head held high, as though you were not losing yourself to the thoughts buried in your mind. This was your entire purpose, your role in society, and you could not ruin it for the kingdom. You had to prove to those bastard court officials who hated you just as they hated your mother that you were not a useless being.

The prince was standing at the end of the hall, much like you had expected, and watching you as you walked slowly down the aisle. You could see your father, as well as the King and Queen of Elaria, behind him and upon a podium, the three watching you with tense eyes. Had they expected you to turn and run? You had hoped your father would assume better of you, he knew of your love for the Kingdom of Narin. 

Prince Minho gave you a tense grin, though it had somewhat worked to drag you away from your hated thoughts. Over the five days that he had been teaching you sword fighting, you had started to communicate with more than just veiled insults. While they were still at the forefront of your conversations with the prince, you had learned a few things about the man that were more than just your educated assumptions.

Though not much, you could say that the prince had grown from a hated stranger to a reluctant acquaintance. Had it been for the wedding, you were unsure either of you would communicate at all - that was even if you had chosen to take out your frustrations regarding the situations on each other.

You stood tall beside Prince Minho, chin upward as the priest began the ceremony of your union, with he too straightening his posture. A perfect couple if someone who knew neither of you was to assume - it was a talent of both yours and the prince’s to hide your emotions for the benefit of others.

The priest droned on with the usual words of a marriage ceremony, words which you had memorised years earlier from the countless weddings you had to attend as the Princess of Narin. It astounded you how it was finally your wedding day and you couldn’t even force yourself to pay attention to the words spoken by the priest. Only when it was called upon you did you bring yourself back to the ceremony at hand.

Then, before you even knew it, the ceremony was at its end - leaving only the two words left for you to say. Two little words with such a large meaning that you felt tied to an ocean floor at the thought of speaking them to a man you did not love. The eyes of everyone in the hall were on you as they waited for you to say them to the prince in front of you.

“I do,” you finally announced, though you were sure that the majority of people in the hall knew of the unhappiness in your tone. Prince Minho also had to know of the deflation of your voice, you assumed it was from his own eventual frustration to be spoken in those two words.

The priest continued with his following line, but you couldn’t stop yourself from staring into Prince Minho’s eyes. The two of you were stuck in the situation together, and there was no longer any turning back for you. 

He, however, still had a chance to escape the arrangement your parents had made for you both.

Instead, he raised his nose and spoke as clear as one could, “I do.” 

And thus, it was made official, you and Prince Minho were married. You were officially an object to be used as a means of peace, no longer a chance of escape for either of you. You could see the proud grin on your father’s face from the corner of your eye, at least someone was happy with the situation at hand, as well as the two stoic faces of the King and Queen.

You shouldn’t have been surprised considering how their son acted. You were unsure how you would have grown up if your parents had not been the openly loving parents they were. 

“You may now kiss the bride.”

You felt your eyes widen, of course, you had forgotten about that part. From the, first-ever time you had witnessed, shock upon Minho’s face - he too was surprised by the final part of the ceremony. You weren’t sure whether you could blame Prince Minho for your forgetfulness this time around.

He delicately placed his hands upon your cheeks while you blinked rapidly, your heart pounding with nerves. You were sure that you were only nervous because of the intimate act you were to perform both with someone you did not love, barely tolerated for that matter, and perform the kiss in front of a large group of people. Prince Minho thumbed your cheek gently, perhaps he had seen the shock upon your face, and slowly leaned it.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, though his voice was barely loud enough for you to have heard yourself. You still nodded slightly to him, if not to show that you had heard him but to remind yourself that the kiss was to happen one way or another - at least the prince has some decency to show he knew you were not excited about it.

And then, his soft lips met your own if only for a moment. Slight butterflies began to fly around in your stomach as warmth spread through your body. Though, after the quick kiss to seal the marriage between you both, he pulled away his lips and his hands - both the butterflies and warmth immediately disappearing.

The priest announced you as married to the crowd of onlookers sitting behind you, but you could barely pay attention to anything besides the emotions spinning in your gut. You were supposed to be happy on your wedding day, and yet you felt nothing but sorrow at your own situation. And a slight want to feel Minho’s lips against your own, once more, even if it was only for a moment more.

Your new, and shared, chambers were much larger than your ones back in Narin, though that was always to come with now belonging to the Elarian kingdom. There was a desk as well as a small bookshelf with little books, though the ones there were ones you enjoyed, and numerous paintings of cats hung along the walls. Two plush chairs were placed in front of a large fireplace, already lit by one of the chambermaids belonging to the castle.

In theory, the chambers were perfect. However there was an issue, right in the middle of the room - there was only one, admittedly large, bed.

You should not have been surprised, this had originally been Minho’s own chambers before becoming your shared ones, but when you realised you felt like screaming. Of course, there was only one bed, you were married, but you would rather sleep in one of the chairs before the fireplace before sharing a bed with someone you did not love, much like like.

You may have tolerated Minho now, his stunt of apologising for the intimate kiss before a crowd making him a little more likeable in your opinion, but you were not at all ready to sleep with him. Oh, you were meant to sleep with him.

It was your wedding night after all, and from the passing looks by everyone in the ball downstairs when you and Minho left, you were expecting to consummate the night. You had been trained for this (the women’s educator on the topic had ensured you remembered that it was your role as a wife to please her husband) but at the realisation, your heart started to run in your chest.

“What are you stressing over now?” Minho walked past you and removed the outer layer of his clothing, as though he had no idea what was expected of you both that night. “The wedding is over and we are now married, we are unable to escape fate now.”

You rolled your eyes and went over to the fireplace, its warmth felt nice against the cool sweats running down your neck. “I know that your highness,” you watched as Minho sat down on the bed and stared you down, his dark eyes sparkling from the fire behind you, “I am simply worried over the bedding situation.”

“We are married, are we not?”

“I had thought you were intelligent enough to have gathered that, perhaps I was wrong.”

He glared at you while you laughed, “I will let that slide because of today’s events.” Since Minho had begun to teach you sword fighting, you both had begun developing a slight banter between one another - much like you had that first night while you danced together. 

Had you imagined that only a week prior you would be, slightly reluctantly, getting along with Prince Minho of Elaria, you would consider yourself mad. “How lovely of you to do, your highness.”

“Before we even consider our sleeping situation,” he sat up and walked over to you, his chest practically pressed against your own while he peered down at you. You challenged him, as you always would, and stared up at him with your own devilish smirk, “you must stop calling me ‘your highness’, we are married, so you can call me Minho.”

Your smirk fell slightly, you had not entirely been expecting him to ask that of you. There had only been two select moments you had heard someone refer to him without a title, both of whom having been done by Jisung when in private - you had been walking through your old castle each time and accidentally overheard them. 

Part of you felt pleased to know that he trusted you enough to have you only call him by his name, as opposed to his usual honorifics, while the rest of you was terrified of just what it meant. Was he doing this purely for appearance’s sake? Or is it because the two of you had actually moved on from childish annoyance for the greater good of the land?

“And as for the bed,” Minho sat down in one of the plush chairs, and though you were now taller than him he still felt twice as large. You detested when people managed to feel as though they were overpowering you, it was a feeling you got far too often for your liking, though somehow it felt different with your husband. His felt more protective than the usual judgement power you felt over you by the others, “we are husband and wife - so we shall share our marital bed.”

“Minho,” it felt weird to say his name on its own, the words leaving a foul taste on your tongue, but you tried your best not to show such emotions as you sat in the opposite armchair, “that is only one of my worries regarding the bedding.”

“Then, please my dear wife, tell me of your troubles.”

Your face scrunched up at his name for you, though you did end up joining Minho in his laughter - it was rather infectious when not laced with malice. “We are expected to consummate our marriage tonight.”

The warm light cast over Minho’s face brought your attention to his features. You had recognised him as attractive the first time you saw his full face back in your throne room, though you had never completely appreciated it until this moment. He was like one of Hyunjin’s portraits come to life, near perfection in a world full of flaws. 

It was rather unfair in your mind, why was it that Minho was able to be beautiful no matter the circumstances while you were nowhere near the sort. Though you did have a more tolerable personality than Minho, that you were certain of.

“And?”

“And?”

“It is our marriage - one we only went through to provide peace among two kingdoms. They cannot force us to do anything unless they want the treaty to be nulled.” Minho’s logic was rational, and while your logical side could agree with that the part of you that had grown pained by the constant judgement you received hated the idea. Even if it was your marriage and people claimed to not know whether or not you had lain with your husband, there would always be the glances of people who somehow knew you had not. “You are overthinking once again,”

You huffed and looked over to the crackling fire, your skin starting to feel hot under the layers of your wedding dress. “It is my role as a woman to do so,”

“Even when there is nothing to think on?”

“Minho, there is always something to think about…” you trailed off and twirled some of your hair between your fingers, taking a deep breath in an attempt to control your emotions. “They will all know and they will all judge.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his, unfortunately also attractive, arms over his chest. “They will not judge us,”

“You are partially correct, you will be free of judgement.” Being aware of the state of your world was a cursed thing. While you enjoyed being able to prove men wrong about their ideas regarding you and women as a whole, you also had the knowledge that no matter what you did there would be judgement for you. “I however will be blamed for not pleasing my husband.”

Minho cursed, “And there are people who wonder why I dislike politics.”

“Another thing we share, so it seems.”

The two of you continued talking about topics that were otherwise shamed upon to discuss. There had been times you had talked about similar topics with your father, or even your friends, though you had never been able to fully indulge in your opinions to any of them.

Perhaps that was a perk of being tied into a relationship with Minho. You did not care enough about his judgement of your opinions to overthink them, rather you shared them openly and found him agreeing with each opinion you held. Another perk, so it seemed.

At one point Minho had brought up the rumoured curse on his family bloodline, you believed it was because of the comfortable area you had both created with the steadily dying fire. It had been real, a royal secret he had divulged, that the bloodline was cursed to lose a piece of themselves until the bloodline eventually died out.

You had been reluctant to believe him, though you looked at him and asked him to continue talking. Minho may have had his moments where you wanted to slap him right across the face, but you were still a respectful person and wanted to allow everyone their time to speak - except for Mrs Belvielle. 

“What is that you lost?” You had asked him, barely expecting Minho to show you what it was that the curse had caused him to lose.

You had been expecting even less for Minho to remove his shirt without warning, making you gasp and look away in embarrassment, until he gently turned your head to look back at him. There was a brand over his heart, resembling the crest of Elaria, and your fingers itched to trace it despite the intimate act it would create.

“I lost my heart. I was cursed to be alone for my entire life, unable to find or be loved… the end of my bloodline.”

It had taken a lot of your self-control to not make an awkward joke around the situation, had the chambers not felt as tense as they had been, you probably would have. Minho had been vulnerable with you, something you had never expected to happen with him, much less as soon as it did happen, and so you had opened up to him similarly.

You had told him about your mother, many of the memories you shared with her and the pain of having lost her so young. You had ended up crying, despite your best efforts to not show your emotions in your vulnerable state, and Minho had lightly squeezed your hand to show you that he was there.

The two of you had talked for many hours after the sorrowful moments between you both, the air between you both lightening up and allowing the pair of you to once again banter with each other. You had been thankful for the change in tenseness in the chambers, though you were also glad that the conversations had not ended.

You wondered whether Minho also felt the same. Though if he did, you could not say whether you would be happy or upset at the news.

Eventually, you stood up and stretched your back, the warm fire nearly completely extinguished from its lack of wood. The sky was still black, bright stars scattered across them once again, though you were expecting the morning sun to begin its ascent shortly. “I think it is time we sleep, dear husband of mine.” You still found it slightly awkward to speak Minho’s name aloud, so you settled for your playful nickname to avoid the distaste.

“Are you no longer anxious about sharing a bed with me?”

You rolled your eyes, you had long since given up on pretending around Minho - whether it was from his similar training or good instincts, he could always tell when you were lying. “You flatter yourself, it was not you that I had been worried about.” You ran your fingers through your hair to try and detangle it as best you could without your comb, Changbin would be arriving at the castle in two days time to bring forth your preferred belongings. “It was the idea of sharing it with a person.”

“Well, I hope that you are not worried about it anymore, dear wife.” Minho stood and walked up behind you, making you wish you had still been wearing your thick wedding dress as opposed to your awfully thin nightgown that you had changed into an hour prior. 

Butterflies flew around your stomach the closer he got to your body, you were sure that Minho had noticed your stilled reactions to it. “I’m afraid that you would be correct, despite my best efforts.” You turned around to look at him, trying your best to not shrink under his gaze and the fact you were only in your nightgown. “It seems that you have a talent for making me comfortable.”

He grinned, “My best talent to date.”

“You flatter me far too much,”

“In my opinion, you are deserving of much more flattery than what I have already shown.”

When had Minho gotten so close to you, his body flush against your own while you stared into his eyes. You were sure that the feeling of lightning running along your skin was caused by his touch or a mix of your own flustered emotions at the situation - but the butterflies and warmth spreading from your stomach were always caused by him. 

You couldn’t be the only one feeling such things, right? You had to know whether Minho was as affected by your presence as you had grown to be by his. Though if it turned out he wasn’t you would most likely steal a horse from the Elarian royal stables and ride away.

His hands lifted to cup your cheeks, much like they had back in the ceremony the previous day before he had kissed you. And just like they had also, he thumbed at your cheekbone and bore his sparkly brown eyes into your own.

Was it normal for your knees to feel like buckling? You had never felt such a feeling before, you had only read of it in romance novels belonging to the royal library in Narin. Though it made no sense in the current situation, you were sure that you had not felt any romantic feelings toward Minho of all people.

You would rather kiss Changbin than Minho!

“May I kiss you?” His voice was soft as he spoke, the vulnerability from when he was confiding on the curse his family had trapped him with returned to his body. While he stood tall and had a confident expression on his face, you had also been trained in the art of covering emotions, and could see through his hesitancies.

Whether they be the slight jumps in his eyes as they widened slightly, or the slight flexing of his fingers while they held your cheeks. You could see through him just as he could you, and for once you were not terrified of that knowledge.

“Please,” you finally whispered, and again his soft lips locked onto yours.

You, once again, found yourself standing on the balcony of the Elarian ballroom while the party went on inside. Only now, you were free of the feathered mask you had worn and now dressed with a large crown fit for the queen - which you now were. Your coronation ball was a splendid affair, which had been surprising, and you had been having a great time.

Though you always still needed your own peace and quiet despite the ball for you, and your husband, still going on in the ballroom. It was something that you had been like since you were a child and you were sure it would remain well into your years as you grew old.

“Why is it that you must always exclude yourself from my celebrations?”

You grinned and turned from the night sky, finding Minho standing before the glass doors of the balcony. He was wearing the large crown of a king atop his head, formal robes still covering his lithe frame, although they were now haphazardly thrown on after many hours of dancing together. “You do realise that it is also my celebration, right?”

“Of course I do,” Minho walked up to you and caged you between him and the railing, tilting your chin up to face him while he smirked, “which is even more of a reason to head back inside.”

“How could I do such a thing when I am in such a position?”

“You are right,” Minho looked between you both, his smirk still worn across his face, and he played with your loose hair behind your ear. “I suggest that we stay out here together for the rest of the night.”

The idea was tempting, you already found yourself wanting to agree, but a quick glance to the glass doors of the balcony - finding Changbin pointed with a devilish grin upon his face while Jisung handed him a small bag, you assumed, of gold - reminded you that there were too many people inside that would be disappointed. Though not the people who had attended for the booze or because they wanted to attempt to seduce either you or Minho, despite your marriage and literal coronation that day, but your family and friends who had travelled from Narin to visit you.

It had been two months since you last saw your father and brothers, the day of your wedding marking the final goodbye. Originally, your family had been unable to visit you for the coronation, due to the royal court of Narin being their evil selves as you had always known them to be. Though, without your knowledge, Minho and his father had spoken with the court and managed to convince them all to let your father, as well as your brothers, leave to see you become Queen of Narin.

Your husband had known just how much you missed your family, and though he claimed to only know because of his knowledge of your body language, you knew it was from one of your many midnight talks. The tradition you both had accidentally started on your wedding night became a near-daily occurrence, even if you had nothing of complete importance to discuss.

“There are far too many people expecting us to return, your highness.” You taunted him, dangling your arms around his neck and mischievously grinning at him while Minho groaned.

His arms moved to grab onto your waist, the tight corset you found yourself wearing once again doing nothing to stop the heat spread through your body. “Let them wait then,” he lowered his head and kissed your exposed neck, his crown barely tipping from his head, “I have found something far more important right before me.”

“You still flatter me…”

“Whenever I see the opportunity, my love.”

You pulled Minho’s head from your neck and leaned forward to press your lips against his, smiling happily into it while Minho took his time to realise your actions. He had a taste that one could become quickly enamoured with, you had quickly learned over the two months since marriage. Perhaps, Minho had gotten addicted that night he had softly kissed you in your shared chambers.

His hands clenched on your waist as his lips, finally, kissed you back, leading you to twirl your finger in the pieces of dark hair near his neck. Somehow, his lips were always soft, no matter the time of day or the weather plaguing the outside world - Minho was just perfect all of the time.

Even his hair was perfectly soft!

Minho was the one to pull away, though you knew there was slight reluctance in his actions as he groaned, and he pressed his forehead against your own - your noses slightly nudging against each other. “Will you be kissing me whenever I compliment you?”

“Perhaps,” your eyes were still softly shut while his head rested on your own and a lazy smile found its way upon your lips, “that is up to you to find out.”

“You should know better than to tease me,”

“And what is it that you will do about it?”

“Is that something you really want to know, princess?”

Your eyes fluttered open and an eyebrow raised to challenge Minho, you were not one to let him get away with everything because you were somewhat enamoured with the king. “If you think that I do not, then you do not know me at all,” you leant forward and whispered into his ear. “And it’s queen.”

Minho groaned once again and rested his head atop your shoulder, you quickly adjusted his crown to prevent it from falling over the railing and shattering on the castle grounds. “Must we go back inside? They will not miss us!”

“It is a ball to celebrate us, Minho.”

“My question still seems relevant in my eyes.”

“Now presenting the King and Queen of Elaria!”

Minho whined into your shoulder while you laughed, slipping your hand into his and interlacing your hands. You pushed his head off of you and lead him by the hand to the glass doors, recreating the night of his farewell ball all those nights ago, merely with reversed roles. “Now, come along, your highness, people are waiting.”

© COMET-FALLS 2022