I love scrolling through pinterest to look at styles I could never achieve sooo lets look at some outfits that remind me of the members. Also these outfits might not be something that they’d have in their closet but I personally think they’d look good in them :) 

Hongjoong: 

Seonghwa:

Yunho: 

Yeosang: 

 San:

Mingi: 

Wooyoung: 

Jongho: 

Not all that Glitters is Gold -> 03

series pairing: (fem) princess!reader x san x seonghwa x wooyoung. eventual polyamory.

series masterlist|prev chapter

Part Three: a blacksmith, a nightmare, and oh-so-sweet empathy

series rating:16+

series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.

series warnings: character death, blood and violence, weaponry, injury, suggestive content, mxm content, elements of misogyny, language, monsters. (will only be using chapter specific warnings for things not included on this list.)

summary:as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.

chapter details beneath the cut ->

chapter wc: 12.9k

extra chapter warnings: panic attack, mentions of v*mit, alcohol.

summary:

You feel the presence of a figure settle behind you, as San awkwardly clears his throat.

“I meant to tell you earlier,” he says, voice quiet. You can faintly see his reflection through the window as well, and his expression is somber. “I just wasn’t sure how.”

a/n:woo says eat the rich.

You’ve always loved the sound of birds chirping. Always one to appreciate a delicate song, each morning in a slightly different tune rousing you awake. As monotonous as palace life could be at times, the bird’s song was always a part of your routine you could never tire of.

You aren’t tired of them now, as you make your way along the forest path. Having successfully made it out of the inner circle of the woods alive, the scenery is far more comforting than ominous. The twisted spindling tree’s replaced once again by tall pine and oaks, the deep darkness now broken by the sun peaking through the forest canopy. Beams of sunlight dancing between your fingers, you hum along to the bird’s steady tune, bare feet pressing gently against the lush soil.

Having taken a stroll by yourself, the sound of the three men bustling around your make-shift campsite fades away into the background, even the gentle breeze overpowering their voices as they chatter amongst themselves.

It’s nice, you think, to have a moment to yourself. A peaceful one, where you don’t feel at risk of being murdered, injured, or having the reality of your identity discovered.

You hear the sound of a stream up ahead - or perhaps simply a slow-moving river - and your feet are set in motion before you can even really contemplate following the noise.

It is, in fact, a river. Although the water rushes at a far greater pace than originally expected. Walking up to the shoreline, it’s incredibly satisfying when your toes dip into the stream, the coolness pleasant as the dirt and grime from the following days gently washes away.

You think of how nice it would be to take a bath at the moment, like the ones you could have any time back at the castle. Lavish soaps and fragrances, steaming hot water and bubbles only a beck and call away.

One of the many privileges you took for granted. If you ever do get to Kuroku and manage to marry the Prince, you’ll be sure to not take such things so lightly.

Closing your eyes to further enjoy the feeling of the water against your bare skin. Taking in a deep breath, you’re flooded with the smell of pine and the logfire from back at the camp. You suppose that this is one thing you never had back in the kingdom, only imported fruit trees growing in the castle gardens, and the thought of a campfire anywhere near the King’s study is almost comedical.

So if the possibility of a warm bath be an unattainable longing, you may as well revel in what would have also been impossible for you to have back at home.

After a moment, you open your eyes, prepared to return back to the campsite and the vast journey you have ahead of you. However, your limbs can’t seem to force themselves into motion, as you catch sight of a man further up ahead the river.

Blinking, you narrow your gaze, surely seeing things.

Surely, because what - or better, who - you are seeing is simply not possible.

Silver hair disheveled, he bustles around in a small wooden boat, only big enough for roughly two people. Turning around to observe the stern - and subsequently the side facing you - he rubs a steak of dirt from his forehead, letting out a deep and frustrated sigh. After a moment, he tiredly looks up, and you are greeted by a pair of familiar eyes.

A familiar nose. Familiar cheeks and a familiar steady jawline. Familiar lips as they settle into a frustrated pout.

Familiar everything. All details embedded into your memory after a lifetime of seeing them, these details something that have rarely left your mind within the last couple days. A familiarness that you never thought you would see again.

Tears immediately flood your eyes, and you’re half-blinded by the glossiness as you rush towards the man. Sore limbs practically flailing outwards from the sheer speed of your pursuit, your voice breaks out in emotion as you call out to him.

“Mingi!” His eyes widen as you call out to him, and his expression settles into a grin. A familiar and cheeky - would slap it off of him if you weren’t so utterly relieved - sort of grin.

Crashing into him, he lets out a small “oof”as you wrap your arms around tall frame. Squeezing him painfully tight, you just need to make sure that he’s actually there. That he’s real and solid, not some twisted fragment of your imagination.

It’s only once you decide that he checks all of these boxes that you finally let him go.

“Y-You’realive,” you practically blubber out, still not quite believing it.

Because this isn’t possible, itcan’tbe.

Yet somehow, it is.

Watching the way your lip quivers, the overwhelming emotions just too much for a singular moment, he lets out a quiet chuckle before using one of his fingers to wipe away a rogue tear that trails down your cheek.

“Of course I’m alive,” he replies, voice gentle. “You didn’t really think I’d go that easy, did you?”

Yes, you did. You heard his screams, those desperate wails of agony, so horrific that they fill your mind every time the silence becomes too thick. It didn’t seem that there was much possibility for another fate, death the singular option for something so terrible.

Yet, here he is. Standing before you, tall and steady, solid and breathing. Alive.

“How?” You start before clearing your throat, which is choked and raspy with shock. “How did you make it out of there? I heard you die, Mingi. I-I feltit, in my chest I felt it. So how-”

“How about I tell you on the way to Kuroku?” He smiles, gesturing to the boat beside him against the shoreline, having been forgotten in the moment’s relief.

The three men back at your campsite only cross your mind for a split second. You wonder what Seonghwa might think, how much sadness those big brown eyes might gleam with, if he might even think you were murdered or abducted. You think of San, if within those analytical and lingering glances he might have always suspected something was off, although you doubt it.

You even think of Woo, and just how much he will boast about being right about you all along.

However, with that thought the moment of hesitation disappears, and you step into the boat.

Mingi follows suit after you, taking a seat at the stern before using an ore to push the two of you away from the shoreline. Wind blows against your face as the tiny boat slowly begins to gain momentum, water splashing up from the current before you and stinging your eyes, a journey full of unknowns awaiting you. However, this time you don’t mind.

No, because with Mingi, you feel safe. You feel protected and comfortable. At home, with someone to trust, as well as pick up all of the slack that you simply cannot carry.

Twisting yourself around in the boat to face him, you find that he is already smiling at you. That warm, familiar grin enough to fill your chest with warmth. A genuine glimpse of happiness, the first you’ve felt amidst the endless sorry that has coated the last few days.

“I missed you,” you say simply, because what other statement could possibly hold more truth?

“I know,” he replies, and you snort at this. He was never one for sentimentality.

“So how did you get out of the stable?” You ask, settling your chin in your palm, elbow resting against your knees. Scanning his figure, you’re surprised at how well dressed he is, in spotless kingdom armour with not even a splotch of grime to be found. “I don’t even see any wounds on you,” you say, only realizing how odd this fact is as the words leave your mouth, narrowing your eyes to inspect him closer.

Mingi laughs, eyes focusing out on the water in front of him. After a moment, his grin slowly morphs into a thin line. Still smiling, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s a strange sort of expression, one you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him wear before.

His gaze shifts back to yours, and when he speaks, his voice is plain.

“I didn’t.”

You blink.

“What?” You ask, assuming you must have heard him wrong.

“I didn’t make it out of the stable,” he answers easily, although perhaps it is this steadiness to his voice that causes an unsettling chill to pass through you. The boy’s eyes remain fixated on your own as he speaks, still entirely unblinking. “I died there, just as gruesomely as you expected me to.”

“Mingi,” You begin, doing your best to keep your voice steady and mind calm. Surely, he must be kidding. This is some sort of strange, bizarre sort of joke. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you even think about coming back for me?” He asks, and at this his eyebrows furrow slightly, a new edge to his voice. “Did you even think I was worthy of saving,Princess?”

A pang of both hurt and guilt rattles in your chest, caught off guard by the malevolence behind the words. “Of course I wanted to,” you start, looking at him incredulously. “But you told me to run.”

“And you didn’t even think twice about it, did you?” He continues, tone snide. It’s with this comment that he drops both of the ores into the water, and they quickly begin to take off down the river, moving much faster than your boat due to their light weight.

“Mingi, the ores-” you begin, almost following them over the edge in an attempt at reaching out for one of them. Mingi, however, seems as if he couldn’t care less.

“You won’t be needing them,” he states bluntly. “There’s no chance you’ll make it to Kuroku by yourself.”

Anger, mixed with both confusion and terror, twists within your gut. “What the hell are you even talking-”

“But I suppose you’re not really by yourself, are you?” He ponders aloud, the thin line of his lips shifting into something sinister. A twisted smirk, and when he smiles there’s blood between each of his teeth, so much so that it drips down onto his lips. “Running with thieves now, are we Princess?”

Shame twists within you, and you suddenly feel small. This tiny boat is like a box, like a trap. “I was just doing what I had to do.”

“How noble,” he laughs. A darkness suddenly falls over the two of you, and you look upwards to see that the sky has become shrouded in black clouds. An oncoming storm - and a nasty one at that - beginning to brew.

Mingi suddenly leans in, a little too close for your liking. “You’re going to rot in hell,” he whispers, voice almost gentle. “For choosing them over me.”

“I didn’t-” you begin, but you’re cut off by your own cough. More surprising, however, is that with this cough comes water. Spluttering from your lips, it drenches the front of your tunic. Attempting to suck in a breath, you find that for some reason, you can’t.

You can’t breathe, as with every time you inhale, it feels as if you aren’t taking in air at all. But water.

Looking back up from your drenched tunic, your panicked eyes do not meet Mingi’s at all, but rather Woo’s. Sitting before you in that same kingdom guard attire, teeth just as bloody.

“Enjoy the swim, Princess,” he laughs, and with no more than a gentle push against your chest, he pushes you overboard.

No matter how desperately you fight upwards, your body sinks as if it were stone.

You wake with a start. Sweat beading across your forehead, each individual breath is ragged as you attempt to steady yourself. Your breathing, however, refuses to cooperate. Throat feeling tight and choked, it’s as if the drowning had actually been real.

Shaky hands coming up to cover your eyes, you shuffle yourself upwards, so that you’re seated with your knees drawn into your chest.

It all felt so real. The drowning, the terror, the guilt.

Mingi.

“In. Out. In. Out. In. Out,” you repeat in your mind, just trying to get your breathing regulated. Yet, it appears to be of no use, as it’s as if your lungs are no longer connected to your brain. Acting completely on their own accord, and that is to say not at all.

Panic rising hot in your throat, you feel the sudden urge to vomit. Nausea swims and twists within your gut, each breath more shallow than the next. With your palms clammy and mind fuzzy with hysteria, you struggle to rise to your feet before you even register where exactly you’re going.

You need to get out of this tent. The stuffiness decidedly underbearable, you’re in desperate need of some fresh air.

Pulling back the flap, you’re immediately greeted by the eyes of all three men turning to stare at you. Seonghwa opens his mouth, most likely to utter a “good morning” or something along those lines, but stops as he catches sight of your wide and startled eyes, as well as frantic and heaving chest.

“Are you alright?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed together in genuine worry, mouth parted in a downturned fashion. San and Woo both seem equally as curious, sharing a momentary side-glance between one another as they watch you carefully.

You need to get a hold of yourself. Fast, before curiosity twists into suspicion.

Feeling only slightly as if you are suffocating, you are careful to avoid all of their eyes as you make your way over to Seonghwa, clearing your throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not a morning person.”

The man is obviously not satisfied by the answer, your present state surely appearing more nervous and terrified compared to tired. Seonghwa narrows his eyes, although after a moment, he appears to decide against saying anything.

“Are you hungry?” San asks from his place over by the fire. Turning your attention over to the swordsman, you watch as he fries eggs on a pan over the flame. An awfully domestic look, adorning a stained apron rather than the series of knives and fur coat he usually wears, your lips quirk upwards unintentionally at the bizarreness of the display.

The ringing in your ears finally settles to a dull buzz, you let out a shaky breath, the moment’s panic finally subsiding.

“I could eat,” you answer - impressed by the steadiness of your own voice - and he smiles. Handing you a small plank of wood as a substitute for a plate, he drops a singular egg down before you. Having not eaten for roughly a day and a half now, your stomach protests at the measly excuse for breakfast, especially considering it’s grown used to the grand feasts from back at the palace.

“We’re only a few hours out from a town,” San says, sensing your disappointment. “So don’t worry, we’ll stop there for the night. I think a bed and a hot meal might do you some good.”

You wonder just how disheveled you must look to earn such a statement, but frankly, you can’t disagree.

“We also have a couple errands to run,” he continues, dropping an egg onto his own place before sitting down on the log next to you. “If you don’t mind tagging along.”

“No problem,” you reply, even though you’re not so sure if it really is “no problem”. You know the town that’s coming up ahead - Stockholm - and considering you’ve visited quite a few times throughout the years, it’s a very real possibility that someone may recognize you.

But you also have to play into your role, and saying no to such a simple request would be undeniably suspicious. You’ll just have to be careful, wear Mingi’s cloak up high and keep your head down, and everything should be fine.

Hopefully.

“What sort of errands?” You ask, ensuring that your tone remains nonchalant.

“Well, Seonghwa and Woo will go look for a cheap tavern for us to stay the night, somewhere with a stable,” San answers, before practically devouring his own egg in one bite, covering his mouth as he chews before speaking again. “Then you and I will go to the market to get some supplies, mostly medical stuff, because it’s been made apparent we’re severely lacking. We’ll also pick up some clothes that aren’t so damn bloody. Oh, and get you an actual pair of shoes.”

You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief at the statement, one you didn’t even realize you’d been holding onto. Looking down at your feet, coated in dirt and dry blood, heels certainly calloused and blistered, you never thought that the possibility of simply having shoes could be something so incredible to look forward to.

San seems to take note of this relief, lip curving upward slightly into a sort of half-smile. “So eat quick,” he says, nodding towards your already half-eaten egg. “We’ll take off in five.”

Stockholm is an endearing town.

One of the very few places outside of your own castle and kingdom that you’ve ever been permitted to visit, the little village has always held a very special place in your heart.

Typically, you’d visit at the very beginning of autumn, when the entire town would transform into a collage of red, orange and yellow hues. The scents of hazelnut and cinnamon filling the air, the streets would be decorated to the nines in hopes of impressing their guests: the royal family - your family - who always stopped by annually for the occasion.

But now, with autumn still a fair distance from approaching and summer well within its prime, this cinnamon smell is now replaced by that of greenery. The air is hot and filled with a lush and flowery scent, and the area surrounding the streets and market are unlike you have ever seen them.

There is a certain simplicity to Stockholm that you never witnessed on your royal visits, a level of mundaneness that surprises you. Family’s make their way up and down the narrow streets, running their daily errands rather than attending the many autumn festivals. Fetching eggs rather than apple cider and pumpkin doughnuts, wearing trousers and tunics compared to their finest attire.

It’s a glimpse of a world foreign to you, that under regular circumstances you would never have been able to see.

It is not Stockholm primped and fashioned for your gaze, it is simply the way that it always is. You think you like it better this way.

However, this is not the only reason that your trip to the market of Stockholm is not what you’d expected it to be. What you’d anticipated was to be constantly in fear of the lingering glances you would receive, the looming possibility of someone recognizing you. Of being ratted out to the black-clad men that might be looming somewhere within the town’s cracks and shadows.

Instead, it appears that the people of the market are almost avoiding your gaze.

Although you’ve kept the hood of Mingi’s cloak drawn up high, gaze downcast as you and San make your way through the market’s many stands, there are still the occasional accidental glimpses of eye contact. Terror rushing through you each time your gaze locks with a stranger, your chest siezes as you imagine what would happen if their face suddenly lit up with recognition.

However, this doesn’t seem to be an issue, as whenever a stranger’s eyes meet yours, they immediately look away. Not casually, gaze naturally drifting after obviously recognizing you as a stranger and nothing more, but rather a sharp glance away from your direction, as if they didn’t want to be caught staring.

It’s not until you catch a glimpse of your reflection in a shop’s window that you understand this strange phenomenon.

Stopping in your tracks, you approach the window almost cautiously, not sure if what you’re seeing is even real. Your reflection appears utterly foreign to your own eyes, and you withhold a gasp.

The burn marks cover multiple areas on your face, small but noticeable scars that span from the top of your forehead down to your chin. Rather inflamed, your skin raises at the sight of each of the wounds, burning a twisted dark red and purplish hue.

“What…” You trail off, attempting to recall what could have caused such ghastly marks, but the answer comes to your mind almost immediately.

The scorpion’s saliva. The odorous and putrid liquid that had dripped from the beast’s mouth when it hung over top of you. You faintly remember a burning sensation, although frankly, that seemed to be the least of your worries at the time.

But now, it seems that this is the damage that has made itself the most permanent, even the wounds on your arm surely have more of a chance at fully healing compared to this.

Hand drifting up to graze over the wounds, you find that they don’t hurt so badly, which you can only hope is a positive sign, although you’re not so sure.

You feel the presence of a figure settle behind you, and you hear as San awkwardly clears his throat.

“I meant to tell you earlier,” he says, voice quiet. You can faintly see his reflection through the window as well, and his expression is somber. “I just wasn’t sure how.”

You don’t say anything, because frankly, you also don’t know how to respond. Blinking at your reflection, you struggle to wrap your head around just how differentyou look. How unfamiliar the person staring back at you is.

The last few days you’ve already felt like enough of a stranger in your own skin. Through all the fear and bloodshed, the loss of everything you hold dear, you no longer felt like yourself, like the Princess of Libaiya. Reduced to a weak and terrified mess, in a far more helpless position than you have ever wished to be.

But now to see yourself, and not even physically appear to be the girl you once knew. A stranger, both in your mind and body… It’s too much, and your mind can’t seem to divulge a response. A sort of blank numbness to the sight takes over, compared to the anger or horror that seems the more appropriate response.

The lack of emotion and unfamiliarity only warranted in the presence of someone you don’t recognize, that you’ve never met. And really, isn’t that what the person staring back at you is?

“I’m sure they’ll heal,” San says, doing his best to reassure you, although you can hear the falseness in his attempt at sincerity. You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to be here anymore, staring at this complete and utter stranger.

“Let’s just go,” you say, tearing yourself away from the window and back down the market’s path without another spare glance. You can feel as San lingers in place for a moment, but he eventually sighs, following after you.

This is a part of San you are growing fond of, can appreciate. You’re certain that Woo would simply never drop a topic that interests him, and Seonghwa - for all his kindness - would make a series of attempts to try and make you feel better.

But San does neither of these things. He drops the subject, exactly like you want him to. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t pry, he simply lets it be.

It makes you wonder what of his own feelings he is hiding, as it is often only those who have their own topics of interest they don’t want to talk about that drop such matters so easily.

“Are we going to meet back up with them?” You ask, referring to Seonghwa and Woo, who you’d left at the gate of town a few hours ago. They’d gone to search for a cheap tavern to spend the night, and surely by now they’ve found one.

“Soon,” San answers, before glancing around the market, as if looking for something. “We just have one more stop to make first.”

“Oh?” You ask, perking up in interest. You’d already stopped at endless market stands, seeming to buy a few of everything under the sun. Medical supplies, preservable food and clothing - as well as a hearty lunch for the day - the satchels you wear on your back are practically stuffed to the brim with your items of purchase.

He even bought you a pair of shoes, the boots fitting comfortable and snug against the arches of your heels, which you note have grown rather substantially in size due to your newly formed calluses. Honestly, you couldn’t care less, the simple relief of having footwear joyous enough to quell the surprise.

“And where might that be?” You ask, as San seems to settle on whatever he was searching for, beginning to head west of the market square and onto a new town road.

“A blacksmith,” he answers, as the two of you take a turn down onto a narrow alleyway. A shortcut it seems, and you’re surprised at how well the swordsman seems to know his way around this town. Libaiya would appear the far more convenient stop, being a little closer to their cabin and the ride less dangerous, but it appears that Stockholm is a place he visits often enough to know by memory.

After not responding to his statement, simply assuming that the visit will be to sharpen his sword or purchase some more arrows, he adds on: “To craft you a sword.”

Eyebrows launching upwards, you turn to face him fully at this, mouth drifting open in surprise. “Really?”

San simply shrugs, holding a level of nonchalance as he takes a left down the alleyway.

And although a burst of excitement erupts from your chest, it is quickly quelled by another, stronger feeling of uncertainty.

“Are you…” You start hesitantly, not wanting to ruin an opportunity for yourself, but also not exactly wanting to start another argument within the group. “Are you sure that Woo would be alright with that?”

San doesn’t say anything for a moment, but when he does, his tone is more firm than you would expect. “Woo says and does whatever he wants whenever he wants, he can deal with it.”

Taken aback by the aggression to the swordsman’s tone, you wonder if it may have something to do with the kiss by the fire last night. Or better, the awkward tension as a result afterwards.

Ultimately, you decide to drop it, the thick silence following the statement clearly being San’s way of having put a cork on the matter entirely.

Fortunately, the silence does not last long, as San approaches the door of the building located at the very end of the alley. A rundown little shop, with no windows and faded brick walls, a glimpse of anticipation courses through you at the thought of going inside.

Not only from the mysterious nature to the building, but also the mere thought of having a weapon of your own. A sword that you can call yours, that cannot be taken away from you so easily. A piece of your own protection, against the seemingly endless dangers that have and have yet to fall onto your path.

A glimpse of control, against what has been constant chaos.

Following San into the blacksmith’s shop, your first impression is that it is dark, the only light sources being a series of dimly lit lanterns strone about. Different types of swords and bows coat the entirety of the walls, and even a hefty mace hangs down from the ceiling.

It’s unlike any place you’ve ever been, mostly because your father thought it was rather inappropriate for a Princess to shop in her people’s stores, especially a place where weapons - and thus adjacently bad ideas - were formed.

And to his credit, perhaps there was a bit of truth to that, as when you approach the wall of longswords, these inappropriate ideas of combat certainly do enter your mind.

Bringing your hand up to take one of them off the shelf, a particularly hefty blade with a white hilt, San puts a hand out to stop you.

“Not one of these ones,” he explains when you cast him a confused glance, a slight curve to his lip in amusement. Whether at the extent of your excitement or the childish intrigue that accompanies it, you aren’t sure. “We’ll get Bin to craft you a new one.”

Before you can object, as within the entire wall of swords you’re certain at least one of them would be a good fit, San walks away from you and further into the shop.

“Bin!” He shouts, before actually walking behind the front counter, attempting again as he peeks his head into the backroom. “Bin, you there?”

“Yes, yes. I’ll be right out!” A voice calls back faintly, before a series of clanging that you assume is “Bin”dropping something in the back. However, before you have the chance to go help him, the door swings open wildly before you.

When Bin steps out, he’s covered in charcoal, the black dust all over his arms and clothing, as well as in a thick smudge across his forehead. Sweat beading down his temple, his arms - which you note are rather muscular - are glistening with this same sweat, the sleeves of his shirt drawn up as high as possible, reaching just over his biceps.

The reason for his sweltering attire is made quite clear, as you can feel the heat from the smithy’s forge wafting in even from behind the door, the faint glow of the fire visible from behind him.

The man laughs when he sees San, before pulling the swordsman into an embrace. San seems equally as thrilled to see him, hand patting against Bin’s back, smile across his lips. It’s an uncharacteristically wide smile, far different than the familiar tilt to his lips you’ve grown used to.

After a moment, they pull away, and San turns to you before motioning towards the man. “Yeji, this is Changbin, he’s an old friend of ours.”

At this, Changbin extends a hand out towards you, and it takes you a moment before you even register it as an attempt at a handshake.

An entirely foreign gesture, it’s one you’ve only seen and never actually received. Only ever having shared a bow and curtsy in greeting previously, the informality takes you aback.

For the second time today, you feel absolutely nothing like who you are, the Princess of Libaiya.

“Nice to meet you,” Changbin says kindly when you finally take his hand, offering him a smile of your own. His eyes are sweet, genuine, and for the first time in a while you feel safe in this place, the shop much less daunting than the many eyes filling the town square.

“So what brings you guys in today?” Changbin asks, gaze fluttering over to San. “It’s not quite autumn yet, I didn’t expect you for another month or so.”

“We’ve taken a little detour from our regular schedule,” San chuckles, before putting a hand on your shoulder. It’s a bit strange, as well as something he’s certainly never done before, painting an illusion of familiarity the two of you don’t truly contain. Although, funny enough, you don’t really mind the idea of a friendship with the swordsman, companionship something you’ve always held dear but limited to a select few.

And with those few gone, even if it’s not quite grounded, the thought of gaining a friend through all of this doesn’t seem so terrible.

Even if such a friendship will come crashing down once you reach your destination.

“We’re taking this one to Kuroku,” San continues, giving your shoulder a soft shake in emphasis.

“Long journey,” Changbin comments, and the swordsman nods in agreement.

“Sure is. That’s why we need you to craft her a sword, something solid that a beginner can learn to wield easily.”

You half expect the blacksmith to deny the request, to say something along the lines of how a woman should not wield a blade. That it’s inappropriate, unfeminine, and just plain dishonourable. Something you’ve heard your father, as well as plenty of other men in his court and royal guard say countless times before.

But Changbin simply smiles. “Well then you’ve come to the right place, what sort of style of blade are you thinking?”

It takes a moment spent in silence for you to realize that he’s not addressing San, but you.

Perhaps reading the situation as awkwardness and not uncertainty on your part, San clears his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. If you need me, I’ll be over by the arrows.”

“Wait-” you start, but San simply spares you a glance over his shoulder, good eye glistening with an emotion you don’t quite recognize. Not mischief exactly, but a little more timid. Pride perhaps, but that seems equally as strange.

“It’s not my sword he’s crafting,” he says plainly, before turning around fully and making his way towards the opposite end of the room.

Turning around to face Changbin once more, you find that he’s still watching you intently, awaiting your answer. Feeling utterly out of your element, you lamely point to the wall of swords you were looking at upon walking inside.

“Maybe one of those?” You offer, and instead of teasing you on your lack of specificality, the blacksmith hums in understanding.

“Your classic longsword, good choice,” he says thoughtfully, before looking you up and down, mostly likely to get an idea of what length it should be. “Any other requests design wise? Like the colour and style of the hilt?”

Your initial response is to say no, assume his own expertise would be able to come up with something far better than your lack thereof, but you hesitate for a moment.

The weight in your pocket suddenly makes itself prominent, and an idea pops into your mind. Risky, certainly, the thievery of the necklace being something you had planned to keep a secret from the three men.

But the fact of the matter remains that this journey will be both a long and dangerous one, and attempting to keep such an expensive, as well as large piece of jewelry in your pocket for the entirety of the time seems just plain foolish.

Pulling the necklace from your pocket, you hold it out to him in the flesh of your palm. “Could you embed this sapphire in the bottom of the hilt?”

Eyebrows raising slightly, Changbin reaches forward to hold the jewel in his hand, examining it closely. “That shouldn’t be too difficult,” the blacksmith mutters under his breath, before glancing back up towards you. “And what of the diamonds?”

You answer before you even really consider the words. “Keep them.”

Eyebrows now launching entirely upwards, he sputters in practical disbelief. “My dear,” he starts, granting you a look of complete and utter incredulity. “That is far too much for simply crafting a sword.”

He’s right, but carrying around a string of diamonds seems like a plea for them to either be stolen or lost. Besides, it is not your only request. “Don’t worry about it,” you start, before nodding a head towards San, who intently spins an arrow in his hands as he examines it. “You just have to promise me that you won’t mention this to him.”

Changbin’s expression furrows at this, glancing between San and the expensive necklace that sits in his palm, as if weighing his options.

After a moment, however, a small smile crosses the corner of his lips.

The blacksmith extends a hand out towards you, and this time you accept it with far less hesitancy. “You, my dear, have got yourself a deal.”

Wooyoung is tired.

He’s tired of San. He’s tired of Seonghwa. He’s tired of them being so damn clueless, helping some girl they met in the woods when it’s so painfully obvious there’s something terribly offabout you.

He doesn’t trust you, and he feels that distrust as a strange tickling that itches beneath his skin, telling him that you are nothing but a bad omen for their party. What this feeling is or where it comes from he can’t quite place, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s a constant turn in his gut that tells him that this entire trip to Kuroku is bad news.

But his companions won’t listen to him, as at some point within the last two days, they both decided that the word of complete stranger is more valuable than his own.

Idiots, both of them.

Yet, begrudgingly, they’re also both sort of his idiots, so by default he’s the one who has to deal with the consequences of their own stupid actions.

Seonghwa in particular is making this the most difficult, as for some unknown reason, he’s decided to pine extra hard for your delivery to Kuroku.

Well, it’s not exactly a mystery, as Wooyoung thinks it’s quite obvious that Seonghwa is thinking with his heart - as well as likely his dick - rather than any form of logic.

And yet, Wooyoung is the one who’s out of line here, who isn’t being reasonable.

Frankly, it’s laughable.

“This place seems good,” Seonghwa says, motioning to the tavern standing in front of them. It’s a quaint, run-down little place, and thus a bit cheaper than the other taverns they’d visited around town. The owner was also extra kind, an older lady who’d agreed to give them a bit of a discount when they mentioned they were harbouring a Libaiyan refugee.

So, at the very least, it turns out you weren’t lying about that. Talk about the besiegement of Libaiya has been all over town, news seeming to have traveled faster than majority of the mysterious army of black-clad men that took hold of the castle, as well as murdered The King. Many Libaiyans, at least those lucky enough to have escaped the kingdom before it’s been placed under lockdown, have found themselves in Stockholm. A first stop on a journey north to safer lands, similar to the journey in which Woo has now found himself.

And yet, while your story now seems to be something far less out of the ordinary, he still can’t bring himself to let his guard down. That strange, tingling feeling that something is off about this whole ordeal still itching beneath his skin, turning within his gut.

He doesn’t trust you, and he doubts he ever will.

Wooyoung nods in agreement to Seonghwa’s statement about the tavern, and thus the blonde continues. “Should we meet back up with Yeji and San then? They’re probably still in the market square.”

He hates how Seonghwa says your name, so kind and gentle. The blonde may as well have his face turn a light pink hugh, hearts replacing where his pupils once were. Maybe start kicking his feet in the air and tracing your names together on parchment.

Wooyoung wonders if the man is aware of how disgustingly obvious he is.

Rolling his eyes, instead of answering he simply turns on his heel, back onto the street and heading towards the market square. Seonghwa trails behind him, and although he doesn’t say anything in response, he doesn’t refrain from letting out a deep, frustrated sigh at Woo’s suspense.

“Yeah,”Wooyoung thinks to himself, tired. “That’s how I feel too.”

After a few minutes walking in silence, Seonghwa suddenly puts a hand on Woo’s shoulder, close to the nape of his neck. The elemental is careful to ignore the way his heart stutters slightly at the sentiment, the way his breath catches in his throat for a moment.

Nowthat is something he won’t let his conscience touch with a ten foot pole, and he’s doing well to keep it that way.

“Hey, let’s take a look,” Seonghwa says, nodding towards the billboard of postings just outside the town’s main watering hole. It’s a place they check every time they come to Stockholm, where the villagers can make different requests for tasks they’re willing to pay for.

In the trio’s own interest, it’s sometimes used for hunting monsters, the villager’s thought of completing such dangerous bloodshed themselves far too terrifying. It’s been a few times now that they’ve killed a nasty beast, a basilisk having nestled itself in the town’s sewer system once, or the time a mimic decided to wreak havoc in the tavern’s at night.

It’s become a good way to make some extra cash, and Wooyoung’s glad that Seonghwa is able to at least keep his head clear enough to not ignore that as well.

Taking a moment to scan the billboard, it’s almost immediate how one posting in particular grabs his attention. Partially due to the fact it’s almost double the size as the rest, but mostly because beneath the large letters reading “WANTED” there is not the drawing of a monster, but of a person.

WANTED: PRINCESS OF LIBAIYA

LAST SEEN RIDING ON HORSEBACK TOWARDS STOCKHOLM

DEAD OR ALIVE

REWARD: 250,000 GOLD PIECES

Seonghwa whistles lowly, the posting clearly having caught his own attention as well. “250,000 gold pieces, that’s a fortune.”

“We could retire on that alone,” Wooyoung adds, leaning in a little closer to examine the portrait. After a moment, he rips it off the billboard, to which Seonghwa gasps in protest at the act of vandalism.

The corner of Wooyoung’s lip twitches upward, he’s so easy to rile up.

“Hey, what are you doing? Put that back!” Seonghwa rushes quietly as Wooyoung pays no mind to him, continuing his way back towards the town square.

“Relax,” Wooyoung says easily, casting a lazy glance over his shoulder at the blonde. “I just think San may want to see it, that’s all.”

And although he won’t admit it outloud, another part of him wishes that San may agree to abandon the trip to Kuroku entirely. It’s not too unfair of a statement, as if they get the money they need in a different way, then why even bother with this extraneous, risky journey anyways?

After all, she was last seen heading in the same direction they’re headed. Who knows who they might stumble into along the way, so long as he keeps an eye out.

Then things can go back to the way they were. Comfortable and predictable, just the way he likes them to be.

Maybe all Wooyoung needs to do is find the Princess of Libaiya himself.

The sketch doesn’t look like you.

That’s the first thing that enters your mind when Woo hands the piece of parchment over to San, who takes it in his hands before scanning it intently.

Casting a discreet glance over his shoulder, your heart seizes in fear at the first glance of the headline: “WANTED: PRINCESS OF LIBAIYA.”

The bodily urge to take off down the nearest street and away from the band of thieves as quickly as possible is your immediate instinct. However, after a glance down at the sketch of you below the statement, the fear dissipates as quickly as it originally arrived.

Because the sketch doesn’t look like you. It simply doesn’t, none of your features identical to your own. Eyes and nose the completely wrong size and hair not to the proper length nor texture, you aren’t even sporting the peasant’s clothes you escaped in.

None of the men seem to observe any sort of resemblance either, as San’s eyes flicker over the pamphlet lazily, no flash of any sort of connection.

“Hm, would you look at that,” San mutters, the corner of his lip pulling upward in a smirk. “Looks like someone is willing to pay a pretty penny for little Miss Princess.”

“A pretty penny doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Woo grins, taking the parchment from San’s hands and holding it up before him. “It’s a fucking fortune.”

You know they don’t recognize that the picture is of you - and you’re certain they won’t, as you wouldn’t either - but the conversation makes you nervous nonetheless. After all, listening to your guides talk about just how much money they’d make turning you into whatever bounty hunters may be after you isn’t exactly your favourite topic.

“You see this?” Woo says, and it takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you. Granting him a brief nod in response, he continues, tone only slightly condescending. “She’s your friend right - or sorry - yourboss?”

This seems to peak Seonghwa’s interest. “Right, you know her, don’t you Yeji?”

You hate this. You hate this. You hate this.

“Yeah, I do,” you respond, doing your best to keep your voice steady, feigning a level of disinterest.

“And?” San asks, casting you a curious glance. “What’s Miss Silverspoon like?”

Now, you aren’t a fool. You can tell that the answer to the question must be a calculated one, and it unfortunately doesn’t come easily, as you’re unsure exactly how to play this one out.

Naturally, your first instinct is to defend yourself. The men’s tones all clearly hold a level of distaste and passive aggression, and you don’t exactly wish to sully your reputation, especially considering your reputation is all you really have to hold onto.

But your instincts have always been far more emotional than logical, and logic is all you can afford.

“She’s a brat,” you answer with a shrug, and Woo actually lets out a laugh at this, a bark of surprise.

“Really?” He asks, as if almost impressed by your bluntness.

Swallowing down the bile that arises in your throat at the thought of anything you do impressing Woo, you push forward. It’s decidedly better for you not to defend her - or, well, you- so that they don’t associate these two identities together. If they think you hate the Libaiyan Princess, they are far less likely to think that she could possibly be you.

“Yeah, she is,” you continue, even adding a roll of the eyes. “She’s spoiled. Bossy, a tad arrogant.”

It almost hurts to say, considering you loved your staff, and only ever treated them with grace and kindness. But alas, desperate times.

“Not that surprising,” Woo adds, raising his hands above his head in a stretch, before letting out a yawn that he speaks his next words through. “She’s filthy rich, after all. Why care about the rest of us little folk?”

You swallow down the annoyed response that arises hot in the back of your throat. Of course you care about your people, and you certainly don’t refer to them as “little folk”.

And frankly, the blatant assumption that you ever would cause a sharp pulse of anger to course through you, fist clenching tightly at your side.

Yet, even with the moment’s fury, you won’t act on it. What your people need is for you to get to Kuroku, and you will do everything in your power to make that happen.

Whether Woo is aware of it or not, let this be your act of service to prove just how much you care for them, even if it means dragging your own name and reputation through the dirt.

“No kidding,” you say, going as far as to add a laugh of your own, even though the words taste like bile along your tongue. “It’s been a long summer, I just want to get home.”

And although you’re attempting to make a connection with him, the comment does not earn the response you were expecting.

“What, back to your mansion?” Woo interjects, tone sharp. You blink, surprised by the sudden aggression, as well as unsure of where exactly he got that idea.

But the realization comes quickly. Your family - or better, fakefamily - is also wealthy enough to pay them big. Big enough to make the journey, which means such wealth would also accompany other riches like a mansion, servant staff, fine furniture and decor, and most likely all the other luxuries he seems to resent you and the royal family for.

And while it wasn’t something you were exactly holding on to, your one chance of getting Woo to lay off of you, even if only for a moment, evaporates before your eyes.

So be it. It’s not as if you have any desire to bond with the elemental anyways.

“And why would you be pissy about that?” You ask, happy enough to let out some of your harbouring frustration towards him from the “little folk” comment. “It’s inyour best interest, or have you forgotten why you’re here?”

Woo doesn’t say much in response to this, but you don’t miss the way he not-so-subtly rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure we’re almost at the tavern,” San says, his tone exhausted, mouth drawing into a thin line. “Let’s try to keep the bickering to a minimum.”

“Please,” Seonghwa adds, casting a pointed glance in Woo’s direction. If Woo notices, he doesn’t say anything, but rather picks up his pace to walk ahead of your group.

He’s clearly pissed, and something tells you it has to do with a little more than your minor argument, although what exactly you can’t quite place.

Turning suddenly, the elemental opens the door to a quaint little building to your right, surely the tavern he and Seonghwa had discovered earlier. However, as you move to follow in after him, you are not greeted by the cozy atmosphere of a tavern, but rather the wooden door swinging back into your nose.

Did he just…?

Tears welling in your eyes from the suddenness of the blow, you take a step back, rubbing your nose bridge. Blinking rapidly as San pushes past you and into the tavern with a newfound sense of urgency, mostly likely to rip into Woo for the upteenth time.

“Are you okay?” Seonghwa asks, eyes filling with genuine concern as you pull away your hand from your nose, fingers now coated in the blood dripping from your nostril.

You simply nod in response, because really, you are okay. You’re not even angry, no longer containing the energy to chase after the elemental, give him a slap even harder than yesterday’s.

No, you aren’t angry, you’re tired.

Tired of bleeding and the constant bickering, of not being able to see yourself when you look in the mirror. Tired of constantly being on guard and afraid that someone may find out your true identity, whether it be the people of the town or your own travel party.

You’re just tired of it all.

And when you reopen the tavern door and find San angrily whispering in Woo’s direction, who appears as indifferent and disinterested as always, only one thought springs to mind:

Kuroku cannot come fast enough.

The sword is beautiful.

Twisting the weapon around in your hand, it’s cool against your skin as you gently run your fingers down the steel of the blade. The hilt covered in a white shagreen, the metal work surrounding the leather is impressive, gilded flowers and thorns spanning across the sword’s guard.

Then, at the very bottom of the hilt, your sapphire glistens, the rich blue almost glowing against the rest of the blade’s white and silver design. It’s almost art rather than a sword, as well as a piece of your old home and family nestled within the new path of life you’ve found yourself embarking on.

Changbin truly outdid himself.

If San noticed the sapphire when the two of you picked the sword back up from the blacksmith in the evening, he didn’t say anything. However, you’re certain it’s only a matter of time before one of them does, the jewel much more noticeable than you had originally expected it to be.

You aren’t sure if they’ll even recognize it, the piece of jewelry holding far more significance to yourself than any of them.

Perhaps it’s not even them noticing it that you’re worried about, but rather what the jewel represents. You’d called them thieves and criminals, yet you’re the one lying to them. You’re the one who stole the necklace back, who paid off one of their friends to keep it a secret.

Who are you to judge them?

Who are you? Because frankly, it’s becoming more and more difficult to recognize yourself, both in your reflection as well as your actions.

Tears begin to glisten in your eyes, and you suppose now is a good time to finally let them fall. After all, you’re alone. The three men are downstairs in the tavern, most likely drinking and having a good time with the rest of the people in Stockholm. Drinking and exchanging stories with people they recognize, as well as others they don’t.

You know, like normal people do. Like people who were permitted to have friends that weren’t restricted to their castle staff or people their father considered to have good political influence. Who have stories because they can actually follow what they dream of, and love people without having to keep it a secret, so less it becomes a scandal to be told all across Burovia.

You sigh, laying back on your rented bed, eyes staring at the roof above you. The self-pity makes you feel gross, even if not spoken aloud. You’re lucky to have lived in luxury, and it feels wrong to suggest anything otherwise.

And yet, a part of you can’t help but yearn. Yearn for a life where all those things could be true. Where you wouldn’t be where you are now.

Where you wouldn’t have lost so damn much.

The first tear slips from your eye when there’s a knock at the door. “It’s open,” you shout, sniffling slightly as you quickly swipe it away.

The door opens just a crack, a head of blonde hair peeking inside. “Are you busy?” Seonghwa asks, a small smile tracing his lips. Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile too.

Blinking away any remnant of remaining tears, you nod. “No, no. Come in,” you say, waving him inside.

“I figured you might want some company,” he says, softly shutting the door behind him. Raising up a bottle of whisky in his hand, he also shrugs, sounding almost shy. “I also have this. Thought it would be a little sad to drink it alone.”

You chuckle at this, and frankly, you would really appreciate a drink at the moment. Pouring a hearty serving into each of the complimentary glasses stationed on the room’s dresser, Seonghwa hands one over to you.

“Not one for the tavern scene?” You ask, before motioning for him to sit down beside you on the bed, feeling a tad awkward to keep him standing. He hesitates only for a moment, before sitting beside you, although careful to keep a respectful distance apart.

It’s a little endearing, you must admit.

“Sometimes, if I’m really in the mood for it,” he replies, gaze fluttering over to you. “But it’s always been more San and Woo’s thing than mine.”

You hum at this, taking a sip of the whisky, which burns hot on your tongue. You’ve only ever really been permitted wine before, or champagne on celebratory occasions. Your father often considered whisky to be a commoner’s drink, unless it had been aged for upmost of three decades, then he’d consider it to be a man’s drink.

“What about you?” Seonghwa asks. “Not your scene either?”

You aren’t really sure how to respond, never having been in a tavern yourself. But after a moment, you decide the truth doesn’t seem too forbidden. At least part of it, anyway.

“I’ve never been in one,” you answer, to which Seonghwa’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “My father doesn’t really approve. I guess it’s not a very proper or feminine place to him.”

His raised eyebrows quickly furrow at this, mouth drawing into a frown in offence. “Well that’s ridiculous. There’s plenty of women down there, why should that matter?”

You simply shrug in response, and he sighs, gaze falling back in front of him. “But I guess I don’t know much about the properness of it. My family was never wealthy, and those sort of societal cues weren’t really an issue back in Maralya.”

You’re surprised at him bringing up his hometown, considering that last night the mere mention of it was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

But perhaps it’s liquid courage running through his veins, and although your budding curiosity is rather tempting, you don’t want to take advantage of a loose tongue.

“We don’t have to talk about that if it makes you uncomfort-” you start, but he cuts you off, tone reassuring.

“No, no. I want to,” he says, once again turning to face you. His eyes are not full of tears this time, but compassion. “I wanted to yesterday, but it was just… a lot. I’ve had the day to sit with it now, and I feel like I should explain why it makes me so…you know.”

Troubled, your mind fills in for him. Vulnerable.

The statement is understandable, so instead of stopping him, you simply let the blonde speak.

“There was a sickness that passed through about six years ago,” he says, tone reminiscent. “Some sort of fever, and people were dying all around us. Our neighbours, our baker and letter carrier.”

You can see the tears welling in his eyes again, although that small, pained smile remains present against his lips. “Eventually my half-brother caught it, and things weren’t looking very good, so my mother sent me away. Didn’t want me to catch it too, so she just begged me to leave before I could.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say, and he just laughs softly, looking down at his feet at the end of the bed.

“It’s alright. Or well, I think it is,” he says, hand fiddling with the tail end of his jacket mindlessly. “I’m not sure if I’ve really made peace with it, I’ve just kind of had to. I don’t know if any of them are alive, but I don’t think I’m ready to go back and check. Not ready to know the answer, I guess.”

Not really sure of what to say, his words all kinds of vulnerable you aren’t prepared to grant yourself. Fortunately, you find you don’t have to give an answer at all, as he continues. Shifting himself slightly to now fully face you, the sentiment feels far more close this way, more intimate and connected.

“I’m only telling you this because I know a lot of what we do can seem wrong, especially if you didn’t grow up on the streets,” he says softly, and there’s no judgement to his words, only sincerity. “Thievery and monster hunting? It was hard for me to wrap my head around at first too.”

“How did you end up with them, anyway?” You ask, leaving out the fact that he seems so utterly different from the other two. Woo full of more outright anger and power, San a more calculated and reserved sort of dangerous. Yet Seonghwa just seems so… good.

Better than them, but also far better than you.

The question brings a smile to his lips. “They jumped me.”

“What?” You ask, alarmed. Yet, despite the absurdness of his words, Seonghwa only laughs at your shocked expression.

“It had been a month or two since I was forced to leave home,” he explains, getting a little more relaxed and comfortable as he gestures with his hands, the topic clearly less painful for him. “I’d found myself in the town of Gloria, which we’ll actually pass within the next week or so.”

“I was lost, scared, and carrying all my items in a bag on my back, just trying to find a stable I could spend the night in for free. Then suddenly, the next thing I knew I was being held up against an alleyway, where one man in a hood punched me across the face, and the other sifted through my bag.”

You involuntarily bring a hand up to cover your mouth, jaw dropped in shock. The story sounds horrific, practically traumatizing on your end, but Seonghwa delivers it in such a lighthearted manner you aren’t sure if you’re hearing him correctly.

“Once they discovered how utterly nothing of value I had, they took off their hoods. And the one who’d been punching me asked how a boy who looked so princely could be worth jack-shit.”

“Woo, I’m assuming?” You ask, and Seonghwa laughs even louder than before as he nods in confirmation.

“Anyway, I was too distraught to respond. So I was just endlessly sobbing, and I guess they both felt kind of bad, so they took me to their own place. Which was really just a tent in the woods outside of the town.”

“They gave me some of what little food they had, and eventually I calmed down enough to tell them who I was and what happened to me,” he says, pausing only for a moment to look up and meet your eyes. “And even though the

Of lace and leather.

An Ateez reaction to their s/o buying cute things for them to wear during sex

Request: I would like to request an Ateez reaction to their partner buying them cute-ish clothing (maid dress, stockings, harness, etc) to wear during sex? (This is just me thirsty for maid dress on Seonghwa)

Genre:suggestive, fluff, a bit of angst in Yeosang’s reaction

Word count: 5 907

Warnings: nsfw themes, crossdressing, collars, chokers, etc., implied fem!reader

A/N: This reaction was originally requested on my other blog, @seohwang​. However, as it’s more of an nsfw sub!idol reaction, I’ve decided to put it here instead. Hope you don’t mind, anon! 

A/N 2: Also, not going to lie, this got me so fucking excited, I can’t. I went onto Pinterest for some inspiration and oh god this was so much fun. Thank you for the request ♥

Disclaimer: most of these pictures include very light-skinned and skinny people. I wanted to include some more diverse models, but it seems like Pinterest just doesn’t do that. It’s the same thing as most of these clothes being worn by women, even though this is meant to be about the boys wearing them. Don’t think that these highly edited photos are what I consider to be the standard of how you or anyone should look. Clothes don’t pertain to gender, size, or race.

Hongjoong

• Not to sexualize school girls (because lord knows that’s already been done enough), but Hongjoong would definitely rock the stereotypical school girl-esque outfit and just skirts in general
• Now, he had definitely thought about trying on a skirt before, but he was too scared of anyone catching him or just “feeling weird”, as he put it
• So, when you did bring it up one evening, he was a blushing mess
• In typical Hongjoong fashion, he absolutely denied liking the idea, chuckling nervously as he tried to brush away your questions and change the topic
• But you knew better than that, and if the way he suddenly got all blushy and fidgety in his seat told you something, it was that he was thinking quite the opposite of what he was telling you
• And so, you decided to take matters into your own hands and just risk it
• You even made sure the outfit would fit Hongjoong’s preferences in terms of colors and patterns, hoping it would help you persuade him
• And my god, when the package finally came a few days later, it was absolutely perfect
• You couldn’t wait to see him try it on, but you knew better than to just shove it in his face immediately
• He did seem really embarrassed by your suggestion, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to scare him off even further
• Which meant that, unfortunately, you’d have to wait just a little bit longer
• You made sure to properly hide the clothes, putting them away in your  dresser while you waited for a good moment to bring it up again
• And that moment just so happened to be a romantic, stay-at-home dinner a few days later
• It was mostly a spur of the moment thing, really
• Hongjoong had been working insanely hard for a while now, and you wanted to help him ease his mind a bit and show him how much you appreciated all his efforts
• He was finally approaching the end of his project after countless hours of work, and he couldn’t be happier
• And also very tired, of course, but still extremely proud and happy about the accomplishment
• So, when he called you one evening, excitedly telling you about how the last track was finally done and ready to hand in, you couldn’t help but share his happiness
• And, to make things even nicer for the both of you, you decided to surprise him with his favorite food for dinner, ready for him to eat just as he got home
• By the end of the night he was beaming, feeling like today couldn’t have gotten any better
• If only he knew it was just the beginning…
• You suddenly stood up from your chair, telling him to go to the bedroom as you collected all of the plates and cutlery from the table
• Albeit a bit confused, he obeyed without a word, making his way into the bedroom
• There, he sat on the bed, waiting for you to come and join him
• At last, the door to the bedroom opened again, and in came you
• You, with a small, mischievous smile on your lips
• Hongjoong wanted to ask you what all this meant, but before he could even try, you just told him to close his eyes, effectively shutting him up
• You rummaged through your clothes for a bit, making Hongjoong shuffle nervously on the bed
• Just as he was about to try to speak up again, you told him he could look now, which he did immediately
• What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was the sight of a pretty skirt and shirt dangling right in front of him, along with what appeared to be…stockings?
• “Tada! What do you think?” You asked, watching his big eyes examine the clothes
  
• “What do I- well, um, I think it’s nice? I-I’m sure it will look good on you, babe,” he stuttered out, knowing fully well that your intentions were a lot different
  
• “Oh, come on now. You know this isn’t for me, don’t you? I know you want to try this as much as I do, Joongie,” you said, making Hongjoong blush
  
• You were right
• Fuck, you were so right
• You always were, after all
• “Be good and put this on for me, hm?” You beckoned in a sweet voice while putting the clothes into his lap, helping him hide the obvious tent in his pants
  
• Realizing you’d definitely noticed the effect you had on him, he quietly cursed to himself, knowing he had been caught by you yet again
• After a few seconds of suspenseful silence, he stood up, refusing to meet your gaze as he held the clothes in his hands
• “…fine,” he muttered, clutching the fabric closer to his chest as he made his way past you and into the bathroom
  
• He didn’t even have to look at you to know you were smiling, all too amused by his adorable embarrassment
• You didn’t want to let him go that easily, however, stopping him mid-walk to press a quick kiss to his temple
• “There you go, my good boy,” you whispered in his ear, letting him go with a shiver running down his spine
  

Seonghwa

• He would definitely fit the bunny/kitten maid trope
• And honestly, I think he would just love the black and white aesthetic in general
• It was actually mostly his idea, since he was the one to mention it first
• One night, as you were lying in bed, scrolling on your phones before going to sleep, he turned to you, calling out your name softly
• You turned to him, giving him a small hum to show him you were listening
• He would show you his phone screen, making you lift your eyes from your own device 
• And that’s when you finally registered the dozens of different maid outfits and accessories on the screen, making your cheeks turn red instantly
• “Do you think any of these would look good on me?” He asked with a sly smile, watching your reaction amusedly
  
• “Y-yeah? I think you would look great in them, why?” You managed to get out, still too taken aback by the sudden topic, especially since he brought it up with such an innocent look in his eyes
  
• “Nothing, just wondering.”
  
• And that was that.
• Just as fast as it began, the conversation would end there, none of you elaborating further on the topic (aside from your confused chuckle as you turned back to your phone)
• Until now
• You stood by the bed in your shared bedroom, the freshly unpacked maid dress splayed out on the sheets, along with a pretty pair of white stockings
• You smiled to yourself, already loving the mental image of Seonghwa wearing this just for you
• You could already see the shy, bashful smile on his lips, along with a faint red tint on his cheeks as he would show it off to you
• With that in mind, you went to the living room where Seonghwa was currently sitting on the couch, watching the TV absentmindedly
• You called out his name, to which he turned his head to you, greeting you with a warm smile
• Until he saw what you were holding, that is
• His jaw dropped in surprise, a dark blush spreading across his cheeks up to the tips of his ears
• You giggled at his expression, coming closer until you stood right in front of him, proudly showing off the outfit
• “Look! It’s almost the exact same as the ones you were showing me a few weeks ago!” You exclaimed excitedly, laughing at your boyfriend’s bewildered expression
  
• He was at a loss for words, eyes quickly flitting between you and the dress in your hands
• Yes, he did show you the maid dresses back then, and yes, he did secretly hope you might buy it for him
• But he never expected you to actually take him up on it
• After a bit of stuttery questioning about when and why and how you got the outfit for him, you finally managed to persuade him to just shut up and put it on
• And oh boy, when he did
• You were sitting in his previous spot on the couch, waiting for what felt like forever
• But then, at last, there was a squeak of a door opening
• And out of the bedroom came Seonghwa, looking absolutely breathtaking
• He shyly stepped out of the bedroom, keeping his eyes lowered on the ground as he approached you
• His hands stayed by his sides, nervously twirling the hem of the skirt between his fingers
• You were absolutely beaming at the sight, quickly standing up and walking over to him to get a better look
• You immediately told him just how amazing he looked, to which he thanked you sheepishly, meeting your gaze for the first time with a cute smile
• It was quite amusing, really
• All the confidence and playfulness from before suddenly disappeared, leaving you with a blushy, cute, and absolutely stunningmess of a boyfriend
• But then you suddenly paused, a grand idea coming to you
• Excusing yourself, you walked away in a rush, leaving Seonghwa alone and confused in the living room
• As quickly as you disappeared, though, you reappeared again, this time with a black cat ear headband in hand
• You hadn’t used it all that much since you’d bought it a few months ago, but that was about to change very soon
• You reached up to place the headband on his head, the sudden proximity of your bodies making Seonghwa’s breath hitch
• “There. Now it’s perfect,” you said, smiling as you stepped back to admire the finished outfit
  
• “Does it look as good as you’ve hoped it would?” Seonghwa asked, silently hoping to hear more of your praises
  
• You just grinned at his obvious attempt, bringing him closer to you by his waist before leaning in for a deep, long kiss
• “Without a doubt.”
  

Yunho

• He would fucking revelin the soft pastels, oh my god
• All the pinks, blues, and much more
• Definitely uses this to make himself feel as soft and small as possible, since that’s not something he can really do in his day-to-day life
• Would also be one to ask you for this instead of you surprising him
• He wouldn’t really know how to approach it at first, though, since he wasn’t sure how you would react to it
• After some careful consideration, however, he would finally bring it up with you
• What’s the worst that could happen, right?
• And so, one evening, as the two of you cuddled on the couch, he asked you about it
• “Hey babe?” He’d softly call out to you, watching your gaze turn to him
  
• You hummed in response, pausing the show you were watching to focus on him fully
• “Do you think we could try something new?” He asked vaguely, hoping you’d catch on
  
• But, of course, you didn’t
• “What do you mean?” You asked back, sitting up to face him properly
  
• He couldn’t help but blush, feeling way too shy all of a sudden
• You didn’t notice the red dusting his cheeks due to the darkness in the room, but you could definitely see the way he started to fidget nervously in his seat
• “Yunho?” You spoke again, confused by his unusual behavior
  
• “I-it’s nothing, really,” he started, mentally cursing himself for stuttering
  
• “There’s just this thing that I’m kind of, um, into, and I was wondering if you’d be down to try it as well,” he finally said, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding until now
  
• You grinned at that, realizing where the conversation was probably heading
• “Oh, really now? What is it that you like, baby?” You inquired further, scooching closer to him
  
• He tensed at the sudden proximity, knowing there was no way he could back out at this point
• “Well, it’s just-” he sighed, trying hard to find the right way to phrase this
• “I just kind of like…dressing cute? If that makes sense?” He replied at last, watching you with wary eyes the whole time
  
• You just smiled, resting a hand on his thigh
• “Cute, huh? Like, in bed?” You pried further, only receiving a meek nod from him, eyes refusing to meet yours
  
• You stayed silent for a moment, eyeing Yunho as different images already began flooding your thoughts
• After all, you couldn’t lie - your interest was absolutely piqued
• You would have never expected him to be into something like this, so this situation intrigued you quite a bit
• Yunho, however, took your silence as a bad sign, beginning to internally panic
• “Uh-um, b-but it’s okay if you don’t want to! Seriously! Let’s just pretend like I never said any-”
  
• “Do you have any clothes or outfits in mind that you could show me?” You interrupted his rambling, watching your boyfriend process your words
  
• You could see the exact moment they finally clicked in his head as his face suddenly lit up, a wide smile on his lips as he looked at you
• “Wait, really? You wouldn’t mind trying it out?” He asked, still surprised at your positive response
  
• You couldn’t help but smile, watching his eyes sparkle like you had just made his entire week
• (Spoiler: you most definitely did)
• “Not at all, hun. I think it would look quite nice on you, actually,” you replied with a squeeze of his thigh
• “Now come on, let me buy my pretty prince something cute,” you continued, letting out a laugh as he bolted from the couch, frantically searching for his phone to show you everything
  

Yeosang

• Okay, I don’t know why, but Yeosang really gives me that dark, red and black but cute vibe, and I have no idea why
• What I doknow, however, is that it would look absolutely gorgeous on him
• Anyways-
• So, uh, this would be a complete accident, actually
• Well, not the actual buying part, but all the events that had led up to it
• You see, one evening, you got to go home earlier than usual
• And, being the amazing significant other you were, you decided to surprise Yeosang instead of just texting him that you were coming
• You even went ahead and stopped by his favorite bakery not too far away
• All for your lovely, adorable boyfriend
• With the pastries in one hand and your bag in the other, you quietly entered the apartment
• Only to find it completely quiet, much to your surprise
• Yeosang had to be home, though, since his keys, coat, and everything else were still here
• Odd.
• You quietly put away your bag and the food before making your way further into the apartment
• Maybe he was taking a nap?
• Or what if he wasn’t feeling well?
• Either way, the silence filling room was unsettling, to say the least
• Feeling a bit nervous now, you carefully made your way down the dim hallway, checking all the rooms until you finally reached the bedroom
• With all the different possibilities racing through your mind, you grabbed the door handle, slowly opening the door
• But the second you did, you suddenly heard a loud, surprised gasp, making you jump in surprise
• “D-don’t come in!” You heard Yeosang yell, but it was already too late
  
• You were met with the sight of your boyfriend, standing in front of the big mirror on your wall
• Wearing your clothes
• Your skirt and t-shirt, to be exact
• There were more clothes strewn on the bed next to him, all of them different skirts, dresses, and shirts that you owned
• Your wide eyes flitted between Yeosang, the bed, and the skirt he was currently wearing
• He looked even more shocked than you (if that was even possible), frozen like a deer in headlights
• “Yeosang, I- um, I- I didn’t-” you stammered, at a loss for words
  
• Of all the directions you expected today to go in, this definitely wasn’t one of them
• But then a loud, choked back sob made you come out of your trance
• You looked into Yeosang’s eyes, watching them gloss over with unshed tears as he shakily clutched the skirt in his hands
• “I- I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so sorry,” he let out, voice trembling, “please don’t be mad, just- just let me explain, please.”
  
• The desperation in his voice absolutely broke your heart, making you feel like crying as well 
• Before you knew it, you were rushing over to him, pulling him into your embrace
• He stayed frozen in your hold, but you could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest
• “Shh, it’s okay, baby, I’m not mad. Everything’s going to be alright,” you tried to soothe him, patting his back while holding him tightly
  
• There were no words to describe the way Yeosang was feeling
• A mix of utter shock, humiliation, and fear of losing you filled him in a matter of seconds, leaving him absolutely petrified with horrible thoughts racing through his mind
• He knew he couldn’t hide this from you forever, but just the possibility of you breaking up with him because of this prevented him from ever telling you
• Your words did eventually click in his head, though
• “…wait, you’re not upset with me?” He asked, to which you shook your head
  
• “I could never be mad at you for something like this,” you spoke softly, petting his head as you pulled away to kiss his cheek
  
• “Besides, you look really pretty like this.”
  
• Yeosang’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red at your words, watching you eye him up and down
• “Ah, um, thank you,” he answered in an unusually small voice, making you giggle
  
• “You’re welcome. Now come with me, I bought you those macarons you love so much.”
• .
• Eventually, you did have to buy Yeosang his own clothes to wear, since most of yours were kind of small on him
• And as much as you loved how happy he looked wearing them, you didn’t want him to ruin your favorite skirt, lol
• Besides, this just gave you an excuse to doll up your already beautiful boyfriend however you wanted, and just for you ~

San

• Now this one would be one of the few you could actually surprise with the clothes
  
• And for a very good reason:
• He literally never locks his phone around you
• Now, you can’t really consider this a bad habit, since it’s mostly harmless and he usually just has a game on pause on it or something
• But then, one time, as you’re watching a movie together and he leaves to go to the bathroom, you notice something…odd, on his phone
• You didn’t mean to snoop or anything, obviously
• It’s just that the bright pink glow from the phone caught your eye
• San had been paying barely any attention to the movie you were watching, so you were admittedly a bit curious about what had kept him so occupied
• But when you lifted the device to take a closer look, you gasped at the sight
• From top to bottom, his phone screen was filled with all kinds of chokers, stockings, skirts, and various accessories
• Not to mention that they were all worn by male models, leaving very little room to doubt who San would want to see these on
• Before you could explore the website any further, however, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, making you jump back into your previous position
• As San came in, he just gave you a small, unassuming smile, before settling back into his own spot
• And though you did manage to not get caught, just like San, you weren’t paying any attention to the movie from that point on, too preoccupied with the images you saw on his phone
• Even as you lay in bed two hours later, your mind was still racing with way too many not-so-innocent thoughts about the different outfits
• And, of course, how pretty San would look in them
• In the end, you couldn’t resist
• On one hand, you wanted to ask San about it, or maybe wait for him to tell you himself
• But you also just couldn’t let such a golden opportunity to surprise him slip by like this
• So, you decided to take the initiative yourself and went online to search for some pretty clothes on your own
• Double-checking all of the sizing and colors to fit San’s body and preferences just right, you finally sent in the order
• And now, you just had to wait
• To say it felt long would be a big understatement
• You were rushing to the door with every text, email, or call that you got, hoping it was the delivery man coming
• Until finally, on your thirtieth or so try, he arrived, handing you an inconspicuous cardboard box
• “Sannie, there’s a package for you!” You called down the hallway, listening to the sound of footsteps quickly approaching you
• Just a few moments later, there he was, eyeing the box in your hands curiously
• “For me? But I didn’t order anything,” he said, grabbing the package from your hands and carrying it to the living room floor
• He took a knife from the kitchen before kneeling down next to the box, carefully cutting the seal at the top
• You sat down next to him, watching him with bated breath
• Until he suddenly gave you a small frown, which immediately made you nervous 
• Did he not like what he was seeing? Did you understand everything wrong somehow?
• But then
• “…It says here that it’s for you, though,” he muttered, picking up the small ‘Thank you for your purchase’ card at the top
  
• You let out the breath you were subconsciously holding, snatching the card from his hand
• “Ignore that! Just look at the actual package,” you huffed, still calming down from the sudden spike of anxiety just seconds ago
• He obeyed with a quiet ‘okay’, unwrapping the plastic packaging to peer at the contents inside
• Suddenly, he let out a gasp, looking at you with wide eyes
• “Y-Y/N, is this- how?” He asked, completely taken aback
• “What? Do you not like it?” You asked with a cheesy grin, taking a peek at the clothes yourself just to make sure everything was perfect
• And, of course, it was
• Even the cute set of hair clips you bought looked adorable
• “I- I mean, of course I like it! It’s just…how did you know?” San questioned, a bright blush dusting his cheeks
• You chuckled, leaning closer to pat his thigh
• “You know, San, you’re not exactly slick when you leave your phone unlocked right next to me.”
• You could see him thinking back to all the times he did so, groaning when he remembered the exact moment you meant
• “Are you serious?! And here I thought I could trust you not to look through my things,” he whined, embarrassed as he realized what images you must have seen that night
• “I didn’t mean to!” You tried to defend yourself, unable to hide the smile on your lips as you spoke
• “But hey, if you don’t want to wear this, that’s fi-”
• Before you could finish your sentence, however, San stood up, taking the clothes with him and marching away
• “No way! These are mine now, thank you very much. Just wait ‘til you see me in them, you won’t be able to handle it!” He called out behind himself, making you laugh as you followed right after him into the bedroom
  

Mingi

• Ohhh, Mingi definitely strikes me as someone with a very specific taste
• I feel like red, expensive-looking accessories would really stand out on him
• But! I can also see him being really into those see-through plastic collars and harnesses, or even the holo ones
• Basically a middle ground between the classics and out-there things
• But although he’d like the chokers and collars, I don’t think he’d really enjoy anything too intricate or restrictive, so he’d mostly just stick to the simpler stuff
• What this also means, however, is that it would be really hard to get Mingi something that would suit his preferences perfectly
• So, in the end, you’d just leave it up to him and browse different sites together
• You had just finished getting ready for bed, making your way around the apartment to turn off all the lights and make sure the front door was properly locked
• At last, you arrived back in your bedroom
• Only to find Mingi in bed, still wide awake, with his laptop resting in his lap
• His face was illuminated by the screen, and you could see the way his eyes flickered from one thing to another, completely absorbed in whatever it was he was looking at
• You cleared your throat, alerting Mingi to your presence
• “Oh! Hey there, babe. Didn’t see you, sorry,” he said, giving you a small smile before focusing back on the laptop
  
• “It’s okay,” you replied before turning off the bedroom lights as well, leaving only the bedside lamp and the glow from Mingi’s screen to light up the room
  
• Slipping under the covers, you let out a sigh, happy to finally relax after a long day
• “Whatcha got there?” You asked, leaning up on your forearms to look at Mingi’s screen
  
• Seeing your curiosity, Mingi happily turned the laptop to you, watching with a grin as your eyes widened
• “What do you think?” He asked teasingly, laughing at the way your cheeks flushed almost immediately
  
• “What the- why are you looking at collars of all things in the middle of the night?!” You asked incredulously, sitting up as well now
  
• “I don’t know, guess I just felt like it,” he shrugged, “wanna join?”
  
• You chuckled at the remark, still in absolute disbelief at the situation
• Until you realized he was serious
• “Wait, you mean it?” You asked, surprised
  
• “Um, yeah?” Mingi asked back, looking at you as if you were the weird one here
  
• A moment of silence passed between the two of you as you processed the situation, Mingi just staring at you the whole time
• “I mean, why not? Might be fun, I guess,” you finally replied, shuffling closer to him to look at the laptop together
• “Damn right it will be fun, just look at this one! It’s so pretty, isn’t it? Or this one!” He exclaimed (a bit too loudly, considering the fact it was almost three in the morning), pointing out two collars on the page
  
• “You’re shameless, you know that?” You asked with a playful smile, amused by his excitement
  
• “Yup,” he replied quite matter-of-factly, “it’s why you love me, after all.”

Wooyoung

• Ohohoho, now THIS ONE
• Wooyoung would definitely be one of those guys that wear skirts, maid outfits, etc. as a joke on TikTok
• I mean, he didthink it was just a funny thing to do at first
• Until he’d find himself lying in your shared bed, on his back, with you kneeling between his legs and ready to devour him whole
  
• And suddenly, he realizes it’s not “just a joke” anymore
• Especially not when you notice the bulge under his pretty skirt, sneaking your way underneath the clothing to touch him
• He wouldn’t even have the time to protest and pretend like he hadn’t just discovered a new kink of his
• Before he could say a word against your ministrations, you’d have him whining and whimpering for you, struggling to keep himself together
• It would be a strange combination of feelings for him
• On one hand, he was feeling so exposed, having only a flimsy skirt to cover himself with
• You didn’t even have to take it off to touch him, just slipping your hand underneath to palm at his crotch if you felt like it
• It felt so vulnerable and exposing, yet he felt completely safe and cozy at the same time
• The way the knee-high socks wrapped snuggly around his legs, and the comforting feeling of the warm hoodie he could tuck his blushing face into
• It felt strange, but also incredibly intoxicating
• Just the perfect combination of cute yet sexy, safe yet vulnerable
• But what made the whole thing even better for Wooyoung was you
• The hungry look in your eyes, contrasting with the soft and loving words you whispered into his ear as you gripped his thighs on either side of you
• Simply put, it was perfect
• And, despite the embarrassment that caught up to him after you were done with him
• He knew he wanted- no, neededthis again
• So, after a week of working up the courage to bring it up again, he’d finally ask you about it
• He already knew you’d probably be into it as well (judging by the marks he still had on his thighs), so he didn’t have much to worry about, really
• It didn’t stop him from fumbling over his words at first, though
• But honestly, if anything, it worked in his favor
• Because let’s be honest, how could you ever turn down your boyfriend when he was being so adorable about it?
• Exactly, you can’t
• And so, the two of you went online, picking out new clothes for Wooyoung that you both thought would look cute on him
• Before you knew it, two hours had passed, and your shopping cart was packed with all kinds of cute skirts, sweaters, and different accessories
• Content with all the things you two picked, Wooyoung got up, ready to get his wallet and pay for the order, when you suddenly stopped him
• Grabbing his wrist gently, you made him turn around again, watching you with curious eyes
• “What is it?” He asked, stopping in his tracks
  
• “Baby, could you bring me my purse, please?” You asked, giving him a small smile as you watched his face contort in confusion
  
• “Um, okay, but why? I thought- wait, you’re not going to pay for this, are you?” He questioned, surprised by your offer
  
• “Of course I’ll pay for it,” you grinned, moving your hand from his wrist to his hip, “let me treat my baby boy, hm?”
  
• Wooyoung didn’t say anything at first, dropping his gaze to the floor as he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks, your words echoing in his mind
• “A-alright, I’ll, um, I’ll go get it for you then,” he replied after a moment, feeling his heart fluttering at your gesture
  
• You just smiled, lightly grabbing his butt as he passed you
• He let out a small squeak, rushing out of the room to prevent your hand from wandering any further, making you chuckle
• It was already safe to say that you wouldn’t regret your purchase in the slightest

Jongho

• Alright, I’m tired of people pretending like this man is a completely innocent, nothing-but-vanilla type of person
  
• Because frankly, Jongho screams hidden perv to me
• But it’s exactly that - hidden
• He just never lets this kind of information slip anywhere outside of your relationship, because he believes it isn’t anyone else’s business but yours and his
• With you, however, he knows he can be completely honest and open and you would never judge him for it
• And so, once you’d gotten more comfortable in your relationship and started exploring a bit
• He decided that the time had finally come
• He was nervous, don’t get me wrong
• Extremely nervous, actually
• Since, you know, this isn’t exactly the most common kink, per se
• But, after a few failed attempts and countlessly rehearsed inner conversations in his head, he was finally ready
• You were sitting in the study, working on a document you needed to send in by tomorrow
• Fully focused on your work, you didn’t hear the office door opening, nor the muffled sound of feet approaching
• Suddenly, there was a hand on your shoulder, making you jump with a startled gasp
• “Jongho! You scared me, baby,” you said, startled, as you turned around in your chair to face your boyfriend
  
• “What do you need?” You asked, taking notice of the way he was gripping his phone, eyes cast on the ground
• After a moment of silence, he finally spoke
• “I, uh, wanted to ask you something,” he finally said, internally cursing at himself for making this so unnecessarily awkward
  
• “Okay? What is it?” You asked, curious as to what could have caused his strange behavior
  
• He paused, and you could see the look of contemplation in his eyes, probably rethinking whether this was actually worth it
• You sighed, grabbing his arm softly as you smiled up at him
• “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
  
• Jongho nodded at that, knowing full well he could trust you
• After another moment of silence, he finally decided to just tell you
• “Okay…So, um, there’s this thing I’m kind of…into? I guess?” He began, feeling his anxiety rising again
• As he spoke, he crouched down next to you, pulling up his phone so you could both see the screen before unlocking it
• Your eyes widened at the sight, staring at the wide array of chokers, collars, and intricate harnesses before you
• “And I just- I just thought that maybe these would look nice on me?” He said, nervously eyeing your face for any kind of reaction, “what do you think? Could we- could we try this?”
  
• You couldn’t help but chuckle, watching Jongho’s face flush in embarrassment
• He fumbled with his phone to put it away again, but you quickly stopped him, grabbing his wrist and taking the phone from him
• “Now, now, what are you so embarrassed about? I never said no, did I?” You asked teasingly, watching the blush on his face deepen
  
• “I guess not,” he admitted quietly, giving you a sheepish smile
  
• “Exactly,” you said, giving him his phone back and helping him stand back up
• “I’m currently in the middle of something, so I can’t really talk about this with you right now,” you gestured to the computer screen where your work sat abandoned before continuing
  
• “But send me some things you’d like and I’ll take a look at them later, okay?” You said, gently patting his butt with a grin
  
• “O-okay, I will,” he replied, rushing out of your office as quickly as he came in just a few minutes ago
  
• You just chuckled, turning back in your chair to try and resume your work  again
• But just as you were getting back into it, you heard a ding from your phone, the screen lighting up with a message notification
• Jongho has sent you a link
• Jongho: here you go
• Jongho: and thank you :)
• You smiled at the messages, knowing fully well that the evening was about to become a lot more interesting very soon

Thank you for reading! And remember, any feedback is always appreciated! ♥

should i do ateez nsfw a-z headcannons for the members

Realization p.sh

tw: Mafia au, Mariage au, afab! reader, mentions of death, mentions of blood, guns (not a kink just a warning) angst??? maybe???? oral (male receiving) fingering, riding lol, praise just so much praise

Part 2 of Expectations

wc: 8.6k (I’m sorry)

-

You can’t be married to someone for two years without gaining some sense of normalcy. True, your life had been forever changed the day you received the call that your father and brother had died, but today you felt normal, secure.

You, like any other housewife, woke up every day to the gentle breathing of your husband, got ready, and went about whatever tasks you had set aside for yourself that day. Sometimes Seonghwa would be home in the evenings to eat with you, perhaps indulging in your rights as husband and wife. Sometimes he would not be home till the early hours of the morning, but this didn’t bother you, as true to his word on your wedding night he was a true husband, kissing your forehead as you slept before crawling into bed alongside you. Late nights were to be expected in his line of work anyway.

Seonghwa had even asked you if you wanted to return to university. You declined, not seeing the point anymore, it’s not like you would ever be able to work anywhere. Because your new normal also included an extensive security detail when you were out and about. Applying for a job would be difficult with an armed guard waiting outside the building.

Occasionally, you found spots of red on Seonghwa’s crisp white shirts or on the soles of his leather shoes. Sometimes flashes of silver gun metal could be seen from his waistband or the friends he would bring home from time to time. Dwelling on that would do you no good. If Seonghwa kept his promise to you, you could do the same for him. Even if it sent chills through your body. For someone raised in this life, you had never quite gotten used to the sight of blood.

It took about a year, one day you walked into the kitchen, Seonghwa stood at the counter, raising a cup of too-sweet coffee to his lips and the gold from his wedding band twinkled in the afternoon sun. You were stunned because such a simple moment had sent a stir of warmth through your chest and a smile to your lips. The day had come, you fell in love with your husband.

You didn’t speak these words out loud at the time, but when you eventually did Seonghwa had only chuckled at you and took your hand lead it to his lips, and brushed a kiss across your knuckles. Seonghwa usually had such a way with words, but to you, this single action spoke volumes. But later that same evening, those words fell past his lips as his hips slowly and deeply thrust into yours, savoring the moment as his hand slid into yours. All he said was a simple yet perfect “I love you.” Before kissing you oh so tenderly.

It was moments like those that let you forget. Forget your circumstance, forget how all this came about, forget more than anything that every day the world would have one less life because of Park Seonghwa.

Being married to someone for two years means that you notice certain things about their behavior, and most importantly when something is wrong.

When your driver had pulled into your garage you were pleasantly surprised to find Seonghwa’s sleek black sports car already parked there. It was early evening, sooner than he would be home on most nights. You dismissed your chauffeur with a smile as your made your way inside. Pushing open the door your very first clue that something was wrong was the sound of multiple voices coming from deeper in the house. Seonghwa usually avoided bringing home work, for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t uncommon for the other members of the inner circle to be present at dinner from time to time. But the unusually low voices were far different from the somewhat raucous noise they usually brought with them.

“Seonghwa? Where are you?” You called hanging up your coat by the door. The voices came to an abrupt halt, and if that wasn’t enough of a tell, Seonghwa’s rigid tone when he next spoke was.

“In the living room, darling.” You heard his voice reply.

Your shoes clacked on the hardwood as you made your way down the hall, standing in the archway leading to the living room you gazed upon the scene. Hongjoong, San, and Yeosang sat strewn about the room, faces hard. You turned and saw your husband occupying his usual armchair by the fire, legs crossed, looking up at you. When you entered the others in the room smiled at you politely but none of it reached their eyes.

You offered a smile in return but quickly turned back to your husband with a questioning look. When he said nothing you spoke.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to sound casual but your thoughts betrayed you. At that Seonghwa’s face morphed into his usually calm and collected demeanor.

“Nothings wrong darling, how about we start dinner.” He replied with the perfect mask of assurance, but it was too late. When he stood you walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.

“Seonghwa please, don’t patronize me, tell me what’s going on.” You spoke, trying to be as tender as possible, he didn’t seem to be in a good mood.

“Seonghwa-“ Hongjoong’s voice sounded from the couch, a hint of reasoning in his voice. Seonghwa dropped his perfect mask to a stern one.

“No, there is no reason to get her involved with this.” He spoke with finality, head whipping to his boss. Across the room, San spoke.

“She is already involved whether you like it or not.” He grumbled, staring down at the floor with distaste. You would never say you were particularly close with any member of Ateez, but you had become a part of their life and them a part of yours. Seonghwa cared for you, so they treated you kindly and would take care of you if necessary as well. So you could tell that whatever it was, San wasn’t exactly happy that you were involved.

“What am I involved with?” You asked, turning back to Seonghwa. His gaze shot down to yours. Taking your forearms into his hands he gazed intently into your eyes and said almost willing it to be true with every word.

“Nothing we can’t handle.”

At that Hongjoong let out a sigh. It was silent for a moment. You stared at your Husband with wide and pondering eyes, as though his face held the answers you were looking for. He looked at you with an expression you had never seen him wear before. Something too close to fear for comfort.

Yeosang broke the silence, speaking for the first time,

“She has a right to know.” He spoke calmly, though with a hint of resignation. You didn’t look at him, only started into Seonghwa’s eyes as you saw slowly, second by second as his resolution crumbled. He let out a sigh, sinking back into his chair and rubbing his brow, and pulled you into his lap with his free hand. Public displays of affection were not his strong suit, but it seemed whatever emotion he was feeling was strong enough to override that as he looped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

You looked out into the room at the other men, Seonghwa had clearly signaled his defeat but didn’t seem to want to be the one to explain. The fire cracked as a log began to crumble, the small noise was deafening in the silence.

You turned to Hongjoong, and gave an expectant “well?”

Hongjoong glanced to your husband again, checking one last time for any interruption. When none came he finally spoke.

“We are having a problem with the territory we took control over when you married Seonghwa.” He said.

“It seems that someone has been talking to them, convincing them that our control isn’t valid because you were never the rightful leader in the first place. Whoever it is that is telling them this has them convinced that your father promised them control upon his death.” He concluded.

“But that’s not true.” You replied although it sounded silly when you said it.

“Of course, I know that, and you know that. But the issue is, we have no way to prove it. It’s not like your father wrote in his will ‘the leadership of my illegal business will pass to my next of kin’ and even if we did I’m not sure it would do much at this point. Some of your old men have completely turned against us, we’ve already had several violent altercations with these groups.”

At this San spoke up.

“We can’t risk an all-out war with them, it might turn more of them to their side than before. It’s a hard situation that is going to require a lot of delicacies.”

Finally, Yeosang cleared his throat, you turned to him with expectant eyes.

“We have reason to believe that their main target is you.”

These words above all else made your blood run cold. Seonghwa’s hand tightened around your waist in comfort to both you and himself.

“You see, the only real thing connecting them, to us is you. With you out of the picture, theoretically, they are free to do as they please.”

You sat staring straight at Yeosang for several moments. Both waiting for him to continue and wishing he wouldn’t. When nothing else came you swallowed harshly. Looking back at Hongjoong you spoke.

“Why now? It’s been years since then?“ you asked with a shaky voice. Hongjoong’s eyes shown and the slightest hint of a melancholy smile brushed his lips.

“That’s the question isn’t it.”

You pondered what you had just been told for several minutes, subconsciously taking the hand that gripped your waist like a vice.

“What do you need from me?” You asked. But before anyone could answer,

“No, absolutely not. This is the exact reason I didn’t want you telling her.” Seonghwa practically growled at the room, squeezing your hand so hard it stung. When you winced the grip loosened but not by much.

“Seonghwa, she could be of use, if anyone could have an idea of who’s behind this it would be her.” Yeosang reasoned.

“I said, no,” Seonghwa spoke so low and dangerously your head turned to look at his face. What you saw was not something you’d ever imagine you’d see. He was seething, his eyes were practically bubbling with rage and pitch black, gone was the gentle smile or soft grin instead was a hard line as he stared Yeosang down with so much acid you thought he might melt.

It scared you, it truly did. For the first time, you saw the face not of your husband but of the underboss of ateez. The man behind the rumors of ruthless and violent. You moved to stand up, to put some distance, you were still so shaken that your hand trembled in his own. But he did not release you.

“Seonghwa, let go of me.” You spoke, trying to be collected in the face of all you just heard. When your voice rang in his ears he finally broke his stare and turned to you, he looked at you like he was lost, for a moment he looked so confused it gave you whiplash but seconds later he released you. You stood, looking around the room as the men averted their gaze from the exchange. You turned back to Seonghwa but he was staring at the ground with a clenched fist.

You looked away, nothing had disturbed you more this evening than Seonghwa’s actions. Not even the news of dangerous people coming after you. Never in your two years of marriage had something shaken you like this. You stared at him for a beat longer, but he didn’t lookup.

“I’m going to bed.” You said aloud to the room. It was only 7. You didn’t care. This day was over.

As you ascended the stairs you heard Seonghwa speak to the men.

“I think it’s time you all leave.”

-

That night you lay awake in bed. The events of the evening replaying over and over in your mind, Seonghwa’s own words from years before ringing in your ears “more than anything I expect your opinion of me will not be swayed by anything but my actions with you.”

That had never been difficult before tonight.

Seonghwa was asleep next to you. Not curled around you like usual, but there nonetheless. You hadn’t been sure he would come up at first. He had stayed downstairs for so long after the others left, for a while you had even though he had left himself. But when the door did eventually creak open you pretended to be asleep as he moved quietly through the room. When the covers lifted and the bed shifted as he laid down you had hoped that maybe he would pull you into his arms like usual, and you could go on forgetting that that side of him existed, but when he didn’t your mind began to swim with all the things you didn’t want to think about.

You didn’t want this to become an issue. You have been happy these past years. You felt loved and protected. You felt safe with Seonghwa, a kind of safety that you desperately needed after the uncertainty that came with your father’s death. You cannot allow this to change that. Though you never would have guessed in a million years, Seonghwas arms are the safest place in your life right now, you cannot allow that to change in the course of one evening.

So no matter how much the image of his rage-filled eyes was burned into your mind and no matter the flashes of the blood-stained clothes filtered through your memory, you turned over, scooting closer to him and curled into his side, reaching out a hand to cling to the material of his shirt, and pulled yourself as close as you could manage. But no matter what, things were going to be different now.

-

You thought he would want to talk about it in the morning. You were wrong. When you woke Seonghwa was already downstairs in the kitchen. When you made your way downstairs Seonghwa was finishing making himself breakfast. You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. Instead, you walked in and started preparing food alongside him. You both worked in silence, by the time you had finished cooking he had already completed his meal, with little more than a kiss on your head as he left the room you sat alone to eat.

This wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, quiet mornings were quite common. But it still felt off. As you made your way upstairs to get ready for the day Seonghwa himself descended, fully dressed, ready to leave. As you crossed paths he tapped your shoulder reassuringly but otherwise carried on. This was a perfectly normal morning. You expected so much to be different after the night you had and the things you learned, but they weren’t.

It took two full days for you to notice anything had changed at all. You had tried to leave the house for a trip to the store when you were informed by your driver that Seonghwa had instructed him that you were not to leave the house till the matter was settled. Honestly, this didn’t bother you, you knew there was a danger, and the safest place would always be home. What bothered you was how he hadn’t told you himself.

Seonghwa wasn’t exactly quiet, definitely soft spoken at times, but he spoke freely most of the time. It was weird knowing that for the first time he was deliberately keeping things from you. This was different from keeping quiet about work, as he knew you didn’t want to hear about that in the first place, this was an uncomfortable lack of knowledge. Whatever was happening, possibly right at this very moment greatly concerned you, and you still knew next to nothing.

Every day stretched on, you woke up every day with a growing sense of dread, Yeosangs words seared into your brain, they’re coming after you. Every day you sat in an empty home, letting your mind run wild. One thing had changed that night, you could no longer ignore the world you were born into, no matter how much it scared you. Two things rang in your brain, acting as constant reminders to that fact. One, they were coming after you, and two no matter how well he hid it from you over the past few years, Seonghwa was just as dangerous as the rest of them, you had seen it in his eyes that night.

You aren’t afraid of him. You know damn well he wouldn’t hurt you. But at the end of the day, your husband is capable of things that would make you sick.

But despite that Seonghwa would come home, acting as though absolutely nothing was wrong, painting his face with the calm and collected look you always saw him wear. He would take you into his arms and hold you close the same way he always would. And just like always his hold would never fail to soothe your mind and clear your head of your worries.

But Seonghwa couldn’t keep everything from you. Hongjoong was still the boss, he would still have to listen when ordered.

So when Seonghwa came home one evening face sterner than usual, you were expecting something to happen. You clicked off the TV when he came into the room, turning to him. He stood by the couch, looking down at you, somber resignation painting his features.

“Are you going to sit down?” You asked. He snapped out of his thoughts to come and sit beside you. Another moment of him staring into your face followed. You tried to be patient, whatever it was would come out eventually, but the anticipation was building with every second.

Seonghwa placed a hand on your thigh before speaking.

“I need you to accompany me to a dinner.” That was all he said. You arched an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of dinner?” You asked probingly.

“A business dinner.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave the house.” You replied casually. At that Seonghwa huffed.

“That is just a precaution,” he reasoned.

“I know,” you replied casually turning back to the tv, flicking it on with the remote. You could still feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

“You’re angry with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question. His voice was steady but there was a hint of frustration laced in his words.

“No, I’m not.” You replied calmly. Honestly, you weren’t, frustrated with the circumstances certainly, but angry with him specifically? Never. Since that evening your life had been flung back into uncertainty, you wanted to scream at him that pretending nothing is wrong is not going to help anything. But no, you couldn’t be angry with him, not after he had done so much for your sake, not when his gentle hand on your back was enough to calm the nerves brewing in your stomach. Even if his fake sense of normalcy was doing nothing but drive you further into madness.

“Yes, you are.”

It was your turn to huff.

“I promise you, I’m not.” You shot back, an edge of finality in your voice.

Seonghwa took another long pause, the sounds from the tv cutting through the tension in the room like knives.

“You should be mad at me. I hurt you. I scared you.” He said quietly. So softly the words barely reached your ears. You turned back to him, your face softening at the sight of his dejected eyes. You sighed, Taking his face into your palms you leaned in, placing a soft gentle kiss on his lips. He did not reciprocate, sitting as still as a rock. You did it again, pressing your lips tenderly as you could against his plush ones, willing him to feel the truth in your next words.

“You did scare me. But I promise you, I am not angry.”

You leaned back onto your side of the couch, choosing to stare forward at the Tv instead of watching whatever emotions must be on his face. You didn’t exactly want to know.

You sat, watching the TV for what could have been hours or mere minutes. But slowly but surely Seonghwa released a deep breath. Leaning back into the couch his arm slung over your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. You reached out and took his other hand into your own. You felt the cool metal of his wedding ring press into your palm. You have it a reassuring squeeze.

“So when is this dinner?”

-

And so the day eventually came. It wasn’t often you meet the people Seonghwa worked with, except for the very occasional ally who had proven loyalty beyond a shadow of a doubt.

This was not one of those times. You were meeting someone who used to work for your father. While he hadn’t shown signs of desertion yet, there was always the possibility. The possibility that he wanted you dead just as much as the others you would be discussing. Seonghwa was not happy about this. But Hongjoong had ordered it. For whatever reason, you had to be present for this talk.

You weren’t going unprotected. Seonghwa was going to be present obviously and you had noticed he had taken particular care with loading his gun while you brushed makeup onto your face. Hongjoong would be there as well l, likely equally armed. Not to mention the other lower-ranking men that would be hidden strategically throughout the restaurant.

You should feel nervous, terrified even. But the overwhelming relief that maybe just maybe you could finials get some answers was enough to keep you steady on your feet.

Seonghwa’s hand was placed strategically on your waist as he led you to the private room of the exorbitantly priced restaurant. Hongjoong walked on your other side and an equally steely gaze fitting his features. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being led through the place by two incredibly overzealous guard dogs. You felt like Seonghwa would be ready to growl at the first person to step across your path.

When you entered the room there was a round table set for four. From the moment you took your seats the wait staff sprung into action, filling your glasses with top-shelf wine, each of them sweating bullets as their eyes shifted between the two men in the room. That was fair, both of them had their game faces on, you would hate to be on the receiving end of either one.

When the door clicked open again the third man entered the room with a swagger. Seemingly unbothered by the hard stares he was reviving. He was older than you most certainly, probably by a good 10 years. He had the beginnings of grey hairs speckled across his scalp and a droopy grin that made him look remarkably like a used car salesman who just finished unloading a hunk of junk on an unsuspecting customer. You scoured your mind, trying to remember if you had ever seen him before, even in passing. But you came up blank.

“Kim Hongjoong, it a pleasure to meet you.” As he spoke he extended a hand to the man on your right, a wide smile plastered across his face. Hongjoong stared at his hand, then back at the man. Clearly, most people weren’t confident enough to touch him upon first meeting. But for civilities sake, he reached out and accepted the handshake in a quick jerk.

“Tough crowd.” The man mumbled, before taking his seat.

“And you must be Mr. and Mrs. Park, if you changed your name that is.” The man turned to grin at you. You kept your composure, you kept a neutral face as you replied.

“I did,”

He stared at you for a moment longer. The grin on his face widened.

“I used to work for your dad you know.”

“I do,”

At this his grin faulted, he regained himself quickly before addressing your husband.

“Is she always this tight-lipped?” He said with a laugh. Nobody else was laughing.

“So what is it you wanted to tell us.” Hongjoong cut through his laughter, probably because Seonghwa was gripping his steak knife so hard you thought it may snap. You reached out a hand and laid it gently over his. You felt his grip release under your fingers.

“Well, as I’m sure you know, you got a bit of a problem in your new territory. And I’m also sure you know that she is the cause of it.” The man replied, taking a large bite of food then gesturing to you.

“She didn’t cause anything, it’s those dumbasses out there who decided to act up.” Hongjoong shot back. The man only waved that thought away before swallowing.

“Yeah well, I still know some of those guys. Some of them still tell me things you might want to know.”

“Like what exactly.” Seonghwa finally spoke up, already at his wit’s end with this man and his casualty.

“Anything you want for the right price.” He shit back, smirking wildly.

“That’s a bold ask for someone who hasn’t proven that they’re worth yet,” Hongjoong replied cooly.

“Trust me, there are a lot of guys who would be happy to be here right now just for the chance at getting at her, you’re just lucky it’s me not one of them.” He replied, his tone suddenly darkening.

As he spoke, several of the guards in the corners of the room perked up, staring him down. Seonghwa’s hand flexed under yours.

“Are you threatening my wife?” He asked tone as icy as a winter storm.

The man for the first time that evening showed signs of fear, clearing his throat before looking around the room hesitantly.

“Not at all, sir.” He added for good measure. He cleared his throat again before continuing.

“ I don’t know exactly who’s behind this, whoever it is told people to keep quiet about it, and they’re doing a good job. But I can tell you this, whoever it is was high up. And I mean really high up in her daddy’s business. I’m talking inner circle.” He replied, staring directly at you.

You felt the eyes of the whole room in you but your mind was swimming. Who was it? You knew all of those men, many of them had watched you grow up, several of them had taken active roles in protecting you in your youth. And now you know one of them wants you dead. The thought gave you chills. That was until one name popped in your head.

“Song Joongki” you did little more than mumble the name at first, barely above your breath. But in the dead silence, they all heard it.

“Who is that?” Hongjoong probed. You shook your head to clear your thoughts.

“He was my father’s old right hand, he disappeared rig before I went to college. We thought he died or something, but I remember my father telling me they have fought in the weeks before his disappearance. He didn’t tell me about what.”

At that the room when quiet once again.

“I don’t know for sure obviously, I mean. It was just a guess.” You mumbled out, unsure at the lack of response.

“No, that’s a good idea. If he was in hiding that might explain why he didn’t know what had happened to your father right away, maybe he just found out and is trying to take over.” Hongjoong reasoned.

“That’s a smart girl you got there Park Seonghwa, too bad really.” The guy started with a grin. Seonghwa whipped around at him, ready to finally act on the urges he had been holding back. But before he could sounds of commotion could be heard outside the door, loud bangs and yelling echoed into the room.

“Sounds like those dumbasses are here.” He laughed at Hongjoong.

It was all Seonghwa could do to pull you away from the table and press your face into his shoulder before the sound of stretching chair legs and the ringing blast of a single gunshot rang through the room. You felt blood splatter onto your cheek. Your ears rang so bad you could barely hear the noise as the doors burst open and the security stormed out into the restaurant. Shooting to kill.

Your chest was heaving and hot tears streamed down your face but your mind was utterly blank. You couldn’t hear the words Seonghwa muttered into your ear. You only felt the pull and he moved you towards the exit.

Once out into the main room you dared to venture a glance at the scene. You wish you didn’t. Seonghwa’s men had cleared a pathway through the scene. Blood splattered walls and bodies lay limp on the ground. At the sight of you one of the opposing men charged forward at you, you barely had time to suck in a breath before Hongjoong’s gun was pointed at his temple. Seonghwa hid your face in his shoulder again, pushing you forward through the room as the shot rang out.

You didn’t look up again. Not to Seonghwa’s murmurings in your ear, not to the sound of screams of the patrons who had escaped outside, not until Seonghwa practically carried you into an awaiting car and shut the door.

It was oddly quiet inside the armored vehicle compared to the mayhem outside. Your breath came ragged and it sounded loudly in the empty air. You looked to your right out the window only to see a mass of body blocking the view. A guard was stationed to keep you safe while Seonghwa ran back inside to finish dealing with the mess.

You sat shivering, the ringing sound still drilling into your skull. Seconds ticked by as you waited. You didn’t want to imagine the things going on inside that building right now. But you had no choice, there was nothing else to think about. Imagine it broken bones and mangled bodies flooded your mind, all painted red.

You clamped your hands together, staring down at them, willing your mind to stop racing. The glint on the street lamp outside hit the diamond on your ring. You stared at it. Thinking of your husband. Any moment he would be back, he had to be, surely the police had been called by now, and when they arrived they would arrest every gang member in sight. Seonghwa and Hongjoong needed to leave soon.

You thought of Seonghwa’s face that night. The pure rage storming in his dangerously still face. Did he look like that now? Probably, he probably looked even worse. You imagined yourself back to being pressed into his shoulder, the soft linen of his suit jacket rubbing against your cheek. The feeling of his arms tightly wound around you as he guided you through the chaos. A sudden surge of emotions flicked to life inside you.

The images of these two different versions of your husband for the first time were able to coexist in your mind. For the first time, it wasn’t one or the other. And you realized with a sudden finality how necessary both were. And even if one chilled you to your core, you found that at that moment, walking through a scene from your nightmares, he was able to do both at once, hold you close and strike fear to keep you safe. It strangely warmed your heart. More than anything you remembered just how much you loved him.

Moments ticked on. You could hear distant sirens in the air outside the car. Your ears still rang but it was subsiding. You were started to the point of jumping when the driver’s side door opened. Only to still when you saw who it was. This time you did not ignore the blood seeping onto his shirt, or the ice in his eyes. Perhaps this is something only the daughter of a mob boss could ever feel. But it was a strange comfort knowing there was someone who would kill for you.

-

The car rumbled to life, and in an instant, you were shooting off down the streets. Seonghwa’s grip on the wheel turned his knuckles white. You did not notice his disregard for traffic laws as he flew down the road. Only the look of resolution on his face. His eyebrows knitted together and his lips were a thin line of distaste.

You didn’t speak till you pulled into your garage. There was already a line of reinforcements waiting inside the house as Seonghwa helped you out of the car on your still shaking feet. When you stood you reached up to brush the crease that had appeared in his forehead from frowning. This action took him by surprise, when your hand began to lower he took hold of your palm. Holding it to his face. His eyes relaxed as he looked down at you. A sudden deep exhaustion overtook his features. He places a kiss on the inside of your palm before lowering in and leading you inside.

You walked past several guards on the way, but there were none inside your bedroom. Seonghwa led you to the bathroom and turned on the light. Your own reflection startled you. Not because of the blood on your cheek or the dried tears in your eyes, but because of how calm you looked.

It was clear which of these things Seonghwa chose to focus on.

“Come here, let me get you cleaned up a bit.” He motioned for you to sit at your vanity facing him. You did so. First things first he kneeled to the floor, taking your heels from your feet, letting you rest them on the cold tile. You stared at him as he went to set a towel before coming back to dab at the spots of red, practically flinching every time he moved to a new one.

“Seonghwa?” You spoke aloud.

“Yes darling,” he asked, in a voice that could only be described as reverent and somber.

“Please look at me,” you begged. He had been staring so forcefully at your cheek. He did as he was told, looking up to meet your eyes.

“Please stop worrying, I’m fine.” You whisper. His face morphed into distaste once again.

“No, your not. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place, if I had put up more of a fight this never would have happened.” He rumbled back.

“It’s ok that it happened.” You try to reason. At this, his eyes light up. He set down the cloth with a huff.

“How, please explain to me how this is ok?” He all but spat.

“We learned something, something important. I didn’t get hurt, no harm done.” You reply, beginning to build in frustration.

“Yes there is harm done, what kind of husband am I if I can’t keep my wife out of harm’s way! If I can’t give her the normal life she deserves!“

he hasn’t meant to yell, you could tell that. But when he stood up so abruptly you nearly lost your balance on your seat your own voice boiled over.

“Why can’t you realize Seonghwa that no matter what you do things can’t go back to normal! I know now! There is nothing you can do to change that. I hate that this is the life I have to live, and it scares the shit out of me, but keeping me in the dark is only making it worse!”

You stood up to match his height as best you could, no matter what had happened earlier you felt stronger than ever in this moment.

“Then what is it you expect me to do? Be ok with this? let them ruin the life I have worked so hard to give you? All I want is to make you happy, to keep you as far away from this as I can manage. I thought that’s what you wanted!”

Seonghwa never raised his voice, but now it bounced around the walls of the bathroom and amplified in your mind. This wasn’t his fault, you know it isn’t. But his word made you angry.

“Seonghwa, I lost my ability to get away from this the day I was born as my father’s daughter. And I don’t regret that for a second. I lost my ability to be unaware the day I married you, and I do not regret that. I know what kind of man you are, I always have! And yes it bothers me, yes the idea of the things you do to others makes me sick. But I don’t care! I will deal with it because I love you!”

Your voice shook. Seonghwa looked stunned. But you weren’t quite done yet. You took a step forward, pushing into his space. But tried to keep your voice steady and restrained.

“I know you tried to do right by me, and I thank you for that. But I can’t keep running from this, because it is as much a part of me as it is a part of you.”

You stared into his eyes. He looked like a deer in the headlights. You waited for a reply, once again, none came. A memory flashed to life behind your eyes.

“You told me, the night you gave me this ring that you didn’t want to see someone else get swallowed up by this world without support ever again. What you don’t seem to realize is that you are my support. I don’t need anything else, I don’t need to hide away with nice clothes and soft sheets to be happy. All I need is you, to be by your side, even if that means facing the very things you wanted to protect me from. I can handle it as long as you let me in, let me be a part of your life, even the parts that scare me.”

As you spoke you rose the hand that held the ring in question, showing it to him. His eyes locked to it before flashing back and forth between in at your face. He stood rooted. His face swam with hundreds of emotions. Eventually, he decided on one.

One long shuttering breath from him.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” he said, “ I don’t think you would ever want to be near me if you saw the truth.” He said resolutely.

You almost screamed in frustration. You fixed his face, his blood-stained face, with the hardest look you could muster, before reaching up behind his neck and pulling his lips to come crashing down onto yours. He was unprepared for this you know. But you did not care one bit, you were going to kiss your husband even if it killed you both in the process.

He fell forward into the kiss, practically stumbling to the floor before his hand found the edge of the vanity to keep you both upright. You were not bothered. Your lips molded with his like clay, moving against his with so much force you could feel them bruising. He finally acted, pulling your waist flush against him, prying your lips open only to push his tongue into your mouth. He was well-practiced in kissing you. He knew what made your head spin. Every brush of his wet muscle against your own made you groan in satisfaction. You never wanted to be separated from him again.

When the kiss finally broke you stared directly into his eyes.

“Don’t try to tell me what I want Park Seonghwa. Because the answer will always be you.” You spoke the words resolutely into his lips.

At this, he cracked the slightest hint of a grin.

“Only you could love a killer.” He replied with a laugh.

“Only if that killer could love me like you do.” You shot back. Seonghwa’s grin only widened.

“Only I could love you like that.”

And then his lips were on yours again. This time with much more heat. His hand on your waist pulled you impossibly closer. Taking his time to persevere the feeling of his lips against yours you practically melted in his embrace. Once again his tongue flicked at your bottom lip, and when your mouth willingly opened to accept him with a groan his tongue shot out again to dance with yours. His hand traveled down to your ass. Palming the flesh their eagerly. Making you jump with a squeal.

Seonghwa broke the kiss again.

“Come into the bedroom darling, I don’t want to take you like this in the bathroom.” His voice dripped with sultry desire and instead of ice, there was a molten fire in his eyes. You felt your panties dampen at the mere look in his eyes.

You didn’t need telling twice.

As soon as you entered your bedroom you were practically thrown onto your plush duvet, your husband standing at the door of the bed with a look so dark he was ready to pounce on you.

He climbed over you onto the bed, both hands taking hold of one strap of your dress before sliding them down your shoulder. He took turns peppering kisses across each shoulder, brushing his lips over every available surface air skin. You whined at him.

“Seonghwa please, don’t keep me waiting.”

He clicked his tongue at you.

“Don’t be impatient darling, I’m going to savor every moment of this.” As he spoke he rose his face to yours a placed a peck on your cheek with a grin. His hand moved to your dress again, pulling the cups of both your bread and bra down to expose your breast to him. In an instant, his mouth was back on you. He groaned into the flesh. You felt a wave of wetness gush out of you at the sensation.

“You know how much I adore these,” he spoke before flicking his tongue against your now erect bud. You moaned as your hand flew to his dark locks, pulling at the roots. He groaned again pulling away.

“Get this dress off, it’s in my way.” Seonghwa all but growled at you. He backed away, allowed you to sit up. You undid the zipper in record time pulling the material over your body, and your bra as well for good measure. Seonghwa sat back on his heels. Watching you, palming his erection as he did. A dark halo shown around his head as lust gazed over in your eyes.

You were keening for him now. Your senses are completely overrun with the ideas of all the things he could do to you. You felt your hips roll into the air subconsciously as he began undoing his shirt. The droplets of red do nothing to off-put you. Then it was off, and you sat up on your knees like him to ogle. Running your hands along the hard planes and ridges. You felt your cunt clench around nothing.

“Seems you have your own fair share of admiring to do,” he chuckled, running a hand through your hair. His thumb slid into his waistband.

“How about my loving wife come help me with these?“ he mused, motioning you forward. You fell forward onto your hands and knees without a second thought. Coming face to face with the bulge in his slacks. You undid the button quickly and pulled down the zipped without a second thought. But your brain faulted at the sight of the outline of his cock. You acted on instinct. You mouthed at his dick through his boxers, savoring in the salty taste of pre-cum that seeped through at the tip. You moaned wantonly only to whine when you were pulled away by your hair.

“I should have known you would get like this, you’ve become so cock hungry. To think you were such a sweet innocent girl when I married you.” He was musing to himself.

“But that isn’t what I told you to do, why must you disobey me, darling?” He asked in a mock sympathetic tone. You whined out,

“I’m sorry,” though even you were unconvinced, as your eyes showed how much you wanted to have your mouth back on him. You looked up at him with your widest most apologetic look, and you saw him smirk in satisfaction.

“Who am to deny you, ask me nicely and I’ll give you what you want.” He replied, running his hand through your hair again.

“Please Seonghwa, can I put you in my mouth?” You asked in your most appeasing tone, nudging your head against his hand. Seonghwa grinned at you. Slipping his thumb into his waistband he pulled them down just enough along with his pants.

You wasted no time. In an instant your lips were wrapped around the head of his cock, circling it with your tongue. Seonghwa let out an appreciative groan. Your tongue ran along the slit of his cock gathering you more precum before sliding his further into your mouth and bobbing.

“You really love my cock don’t you darling,” he hissed, resting his hand on your head for support.

You couldn’t nod or agree verbally, so instead, you arched your back, pushing your ass out into the air and pushing yourself farther down his dick. Your tongue ran along the underside, sliding around him as well as you could because with every bob your head sank lower on his length.

“Oh, darling you are too good to me, you’re doing so well.” He moaned into your air, head rolling back. His hand on your head reached back sliding his fingers onto the soaked fabric of your panties, causing you to jolt and whine even further around him.

“Your so wet, does sucking my cock really get you this turned on?” He asked incredulously though he already knew the answer, even with the fabric you were soaking his fingers as he rubbed across your folds.

It wasn’t until you gagged around his length that he pulled you off him. You were panting and spit gathering in the corners of your mouth but you looked up at him with the most satisfied smile.

“Come here,” he mumbled. You sat up and he pulled you into a kiss, more sloppy than any other that evening. In seconds his hand was at your slit once again, slipping the ruined fabric to the side he ran his fingers through your cunt, gathering the slick onto his fingers before all at once pushing two inside of you.

You wailed into his lips. For so long you had been clenching around nothing at every noise he made, finally having something full you up made your heart flutter. You took hold of his shoulder for support as his long slim fingers worked you open. Your head lulled back awake from the kiss but his lips did not stop moving. Seonghwa mouthed along the column of your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking bruises as he went without care.

“You’re doing so well darling, not too much longer now, and you can have my dick inside you.” He mumbled into your skin as he sucked another large mark right at your jaw. His finger pressed deeper inside you, pressing against your walls so perfectly. You could feel more slick seep from your hole and onto his hand as your walls clamped around him.

“Seonghwa,” you mewled, rolling your hips into his palm. You felt like your body was about to combust, so much pressure had built in your core you felt yourself about to tumble over the edge. Not much longer now and you would come on his hand.

“That’s it darling, go ahead and cum, You’ve been so good for me.” You practically melted at his words. Radiating heat exploded from your core like waves through your body, you ground your hips onto his hand to ride out your high, wails of pleasure echoed around the room.

When it finally came to an end you slumped into his chest, but he was far from done with you.

He situated himself sitting against the headboard and pulled you into his lap straddling him after kicking off his pants the rest of the way. You looked at him through hooded eyes and begged.

“Please, I don’t know if I can do that right now,” you whined.

“Do you want my dick?” He asked, running his hand up and down your thigh. You nodded yes.

“Then you’re going to have to ride me.” He shot back. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out darling.”

You groaned but did your best to sit up. Hovering just above where his dick stood erect. Seonghwa took hold of your hips to keep you steady. You were still spent after your last orgasm but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You sank down onto him with an opened mouth moan. Your head fell back at once. It felt so nice to be filled to the brim with your husband’s cock. Your hips gave an experimental roll and you keened. You were still so sensitive, every drag felt like simultaneous torture and ecstasy as you slowly began working yourself up and down on his dick.

“Seonghwa-“ you mewled. But Seonghwa was enjoying himself too much to respond. Watching your body shift and bend as your back arched every time you were filled to the brim, the way your tits bounced slightly at every movement. He took hold of one. Molding it in his hand, tweaking your nipple between his fingers pulling on it ever so slightly. Your back arched if possible even more into his touch. You were an endless stream of noises by now, and your pace was slowly becoming more and more quickly.

It all felt so good. His hand on your breast, his gaze on your body, how good he felt pumping inside you. Your hips were rolling madly, chasing the overwhelming pleasure that was building in your core. Your brain began to register the sounds of gentle praise coming from your husband.

“Look at you go, darling, doing so well, your so good. Making me so proud.”

Your body reacted to the praise instantly, your wanton moans only grew in volume, you leaned forward to wrap your arms around his neck for support. The hand that was still on your hips helped guide your movements as you reached a pace you would not able to sustain on your own. You felt his cock pressing against your most sensitive spot inside you over and over again driving your mind to blankness.

“Go on, cum for me. You’ve done so well.”

And that was all it took. Your body practically went rigid as it overtook you. Your eyes rolled back. Distantly you felt Seonghwa’s cum filling you up, only adding to the feeling of haze overtaking you. Like shockwaves, your body twitched and pushed with every passing second. Your head was spinning when you finally came back down to earth.

You were laid off your side, pulled into Seonghwa’s chest like always wrapped in blankets. You lay there in silence for so long simply breathing in and out in time with him.

“Are you sure it’s Song Joongki? He asked aloud.

“Pretty sure.” You mumbled. Thrown by the sudden topic of conversation. His hand ran up your spine in a comforting way.

“I’m going to kill that man.”