KTH Military Outerspace AU Themed KTH / Reader Fanfic. 3 Part One Shot! #angst #smut 18+ Hope You Enjoy!

KTH Military outerspace AU themed KTH / reader fanfic. 3 part one shot! #angst #smut 18+ hope you enjoy!

I miss you when the lights go down PT3

Taehyung X reader insert KTH AU : Military Theme / Other World KTH X Y/N are in the military together Part 1 | PART 2 PART 3

I wanted to show him just how worthy of a lover I am. That I could please him more than anyone. I wanted to take my time with him because I know that it could possibly be the first and last time I ever get to have him in this way. I had to push away the anxiety of what tomorrow could possibly bring. His rejection of me or regret of bedding me. As my last restraint fell I sprang into action eager to touch him to taste him. I bucked against him roughly throwing him off balance with surprise as I used my legs and arms to flip him on his back. The smirk on his lips egging me on, he knew he was no match against my jiu jitsu even with his body strength greater than mine. I straddled him and our breaths ragged.

“You know I let you win when we spared because I loved having you on top of me”. Licking his lips his brow cocked. 

“You keep telling yourself that Kim.”. I cooed as I leaned over him placing wet sensual kisses down his neck over his collar bone down his chest taking his nipple in my mouth lavishing it with my tongue as I rolled his other nipple between my fingers. I grinded against his hard cock as I continued my ministrations on his nipple, his moans, grunts, ahhhs and gasps causing another build up deep with him. Could be possible for me to cum just from touching him and hearing his moans. I sucked and flicked my toungue at his nipple as he met the grinding of my hips with his thrusting. I needed more of him, I kissed down his chest, down his navel to his defined V line leading to my prize, his dick. He lifted his hips instantly as I pulled down his zipped yanking of his dress pants and boxers and tossed them to the side. I straddled him once more, my soaked lips pressed down against his hard, thick cock, standing at attention desperate to be sheathed by me. I rubbed and grinded against him, dragging the tip of his cock over and over again over my wet lips, moans and grunts filling the room. 

“Please Y,N, fuck stop teasing me. let me in….”. His breaths so shalling dripping in desperation. 

“Nu uh… I don’t think so…”, I teased, grabbing his shaft, squeezing and running my hand up and down as his body shuddered beneath me.

“I’ll take what I want and I want it…”, the lust and desire in his eyes was enough to make me cum.  I was desperate as well and had enough teasing I wanted him inside me. 

“Who would've thought 1st Class Top Ranking special forces Aviator from KorifilKan would be such a little Brat. If your commander could see you now…tsk tsk.” I tease as I guide his cock through my swollen dripping cunt and allow him to sheath me. It was glorious. The feeling of him swelling inside me. We gasped together as he bottomed out within me. I couldn't help but throw my head back as I rocked my hips against his hips slow, hard, his sensual grunts egging me on. The room swelled with the sounds of our moans, pants and filled with the thick musk scent of sex. 

“Fuck, Y/N don’t stop.” Never. How could I stop he was too fucking intoxicating. I wanted more. I gasped, his name spilling from my lips as he groped my hips, thrusting into me at an incredible pace driving deeper into me.

“Your so fucking beautiful. I want more of you.” Our eyes locked as he continued to thrust up meeting me downward motion as I sheathed his cock over and over, I could feel my orgasmin growing as I clenched against him. The slapping of our skin turned me on even more. I observed as his eyes dropped to watch where his dick drove into my wet pussy over and over. 

“Tae, I’m going to come!”

“Not yet! Please baby.” He flipped me instantly grabbing my hips, positioning my ass in the air impaling me from behind, forcing my face into the bed. Only moans, and grunts filling the room as he continues with a brutal pace holding me in place with his hands gripping my hips forcing me back against him. I reach down between my legs, rubbing my clit hard and fast.

“I’m going to come!” I cry out.

“Yes, FUCK! YES Come Y/N! Come on my dick, please,” a deep primal cry leaves my mouth matching the primal grunt bursting from his gut as I felt him spilling into me his thrust slowing as he filled me to the brim. My cum soaking his cock. I felt him collapse against me kissing my shoulder as he rolled us over to the bed sideways with his dick still warm inside me. His arms wrapped around me, holding me against him as we lay quietly catching our breaths. The silence was blissful as it was threatening. I was filled with pure ecstasy. From all the foreplay, the orgasmins and to the deep intensity of our sex together. Yet, I was terrified of what was to come next. My mind began to race wondering what is the next best move. Should I get dressed and walk away, well fuck my dress is nearly shredded, I thought to myself, my heart beat increasing. What if he goes full on asshole on me leaving me here with nothing, my panic increasing. I felt him go soft inside me and slip out. I felt my best option was to call a fellow sergeant who was a friend of mine that I knew had not attended the dance that would provide me with clothes and pick me up with no questions asked. Just as I committed to that option and began to sit up moving his arms, I felt his arms tighten around my waist pulling me tight against his chest.

“And just where do you think you're going? Hmmm?” his warm breath breezes against my ear, his lips pressed against my skin. I’m frozen, not sure what to say, my heart beating in my throat. I’m trying to leave before you tell me to get out, no I can’t tell him that, it sounds too vulnerable to pathetic. I felt my walls building up, my body tense and heart on guard. I swallow. Silence.

“We’re not done yet, the night is still young. Unless…Unless there is somewhere else you need to be…or want to be”, my heart squeezed at the hint of the sound of vulnerability in his words. But as quickly as I heard it, it was replaced by my gasp and his cocky confidence, like the sexy ass mother fucker knew there was no where else in the galaxy I’d rather be then here in his arms. My gasp diminished into a moan as my still swollen, sensitive, still moist, throbbed as his deft fingers slipped in and out of me gently, almost tenderly. Fuck. He wants more, I’ll give him more, as much as he wants of me. I turned towards him laying on my back letting my legs fall open giving him more access as he propped himself on to one side. His eyes locked with mine, our lips inches from one another. My tongue darting out licking both our lips as I moan loudly arching against his touch, my pussy clenching around his fingers, my juices coating them. My eyes never leaving his, seeing the lust in them as he turned his gaze between my legs watch me squirm, writher, tremble, moaning as he fucked me with his fingers. I beautiful fucking smirk on his lips.

“Damn, Y/N. Your so fucking wet again. Nope. I’d day you have nowhere else you’d rather be. Than. Here. With Me.  Legs Open. Like. A. Fucking. Slut.” He pulsed his fingers roughly into me taking my mouth with his and moaning into me as he brought me hirer. His lips pop off of mine quickly latching on to my nipple, lavishing it with small licks and deep sucking. I moan and grunt as he brings me to my end, my fingers wrapped into his curly arching my chest and pussy towards him as my body twitches, cuming into his fingers, yanking his hair let out a primal cry. 

“Fuck! Tae Hyung….Holy Shit…” I let myself go limp as he pops off my nipple gently, dragging his fingers out of my slowly followed by licking them clean. I wrap my hand around his hardened cock that had been poking against my leg while he gave me the 2nd best orgasim of my life tonight. 

“I. Can. Say. The Same. About You. Tae.” I breathed into his lips as I pumped his cock slowly,  squeezing tightly, feeling him tremble, his breath shallow at my touch. 

“Fuck, Y/N [moaning]....you…got…me…there…..That’s why I plan [hissing] on fucking you. Allll. Niiiight….” I loved how much he was affected by my touch. He was just as desperate for me as I was for him. I wanted more. I needed more. I take his lips and quicken my pumping of his cock as I guide him back over me towards my pussy.

“Then. Get. To. Fucking. Me. Now.” I ordered as he sunk into me.

“Say less”, he moans as he starts to pound into me. I was in pure bliss. I never wanted this night to end. I wanted to wake up in his arms at the light of dawn with the look of a loved mirror in my eyes from his. I wanted us forever. Hope filled in my chest, hope that it could work, that we could against all odds be together. 

We continued through the night, the amount of times I cam, I had lost track. The amount of times we fucked a total unknown yet somehow I wanted more. I felt like I was making up for lost time and that he was worshiping my body like it was his last time. At some point. I had fallen asleep. When I woke my throat was dry and water was already there for me on the nightstand. I was so thankful for his sweet gesture. Maybe there was more to our night, the more that I so desperately wanted. My body ached. I turned to my side, finding the bed empty. 

“Tae?” I call out smiling seeing a note rolled up with a ribbon and a bag with a bow. I imagined he was out getting us breakfast. My heart swelled and my fears were casted away. I opened the bag and saw a set of clothes, his clothes to be exact. A pair of his hoodies, his sweats and lacey panties. I couldn’t wait to see him come through the door and I couldn't wait to repay him with my mouth for his thoughtfulness. As I waited I grabbed my phoning seeing that it was well into the afternoon. Time ticked away and he had not returned. No text had arrived to me or call. I finally opened the note. My heart crumbled. Anger filled my veins.

“FUCK! You Fucking Asshole!” I grabbed my belongings and headed for the door. Hoping it was not too late. I wouldn't accept this shit. I wouldn't accept this letter, I wanted him to tell me to my face. I wanted him to tell me that he had given me the best fucking of my life only to tell me goodbye. Only to tell me that he loved me and had always loved me that I’d always be the one.

No. Fuck you Kim Tae Hyung. I read the letter again to be sure. It barely contained rage. I ran into the Aviator barracks. The energy was charged, static yet grim and cold. I looked around the mess hall, noticing the ghost town feel. I marched down to the commanders hall. I knocked on the commander's door.

“What’s going on? Where is the Aviator Unit KorifilKan?”, I tried to hold back to appear as unaffected as possible but just curious.

“Aviator L/N, that’s above your pay grade. Just know that they have been called to serve and protect KorifilKan. It is a great honor and one they signed up for when they enlisted. You should be concerned with whether they succeed in their mission or not because if they fail that means we will be shipping out as well L/N. Be ready for anything”. I gritted my teeth, this couldn’t be happening. I”d burn cities to the ground. I’d burned cities to the ground Tae Hyung. 

This was not the end and only the beginning. 

Loved this #taehyung fic!

Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted to life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire. 

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 

You think you dislike the feeling. 

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 

“I suppose so.” 

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 

You simply shake your own. 

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 

Ah. It all makes sense now. 

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 

“Good.” 

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right. 

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 

If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 

Why did he know your name? 

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 

“And what am I meant to do?” 

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 

At least that is what you hope. 

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–” 

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 

That is the only logical solution, at least. 

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 

You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 

The future king would be a fearsome thing. 

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…” 

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 

Oh heavens, oh gods. 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 

“What…?” 

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 

“Taehyung.” 

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 

He will not have you running away. 

Not now. 

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 

He is. 

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 

“Please.” 

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 

So sensitive. So ready for him. 

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 

He is falling apart before you, because of you. 

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?” 

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire. 

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

25 days of Bacalar (Drabble)

KTH x Reader (Y/N) Drabble Idol themed | KTH is Filming in Bacalar for Jinnys Kitchen and meets Mexican Native Y/N. Fluff, feelings, and the start of a sexy, smutty scene... I am definitely going to do part two for my own enjoyment, but I would love to hear if you want me to write more. :) ___________________________________________________ “Tae, I-I (moaning), I–(heavy breathing) think we—(moaning) should stop–”, I felt breathless as he pulled away from my neck. I knew I needed to be honest with myself and honest with him. My heart ached, and heat radiated between my legs. My body was desperate for his touch, and my heart ached because my mind knew we needed to stop. The look in his eyes as he peered into mine was one of lust and wonder.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Did I make you feel uncomfortable? I—”

“No. Tae you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, I love, I (nervous), I love kissing you to be honest..I uh, um…sorry I feel embarrassed…”. He instantly placed his palm to my cheek as I felt myself blush. I hated how vulnerable I felt and shy. 

“Y/N, trust me I love kissing you, I- I didn’t want to stop…”. His eyes fell to my lips. It was becoming way too hard to control myself. I needed to just rip the band aid off and say how I felt. 

“I don’t want to stop kissing you but I need to stop.” I felt this hand drop from my cheek the warmth leaving with his hand and a look of sadness flicked in his eyes.

“I’m scared to tell you but I have to say it, I need to say it…”, 

“Ok,”. a sigh escaped his beautiful mouth, his eyes gentle and set on mine.

“Tae, I—wooo, this is hard. (pause. sigh.) I love every moment we have spent together, and right now, I love kissing you, your touch feels soooo good and…and… I want more…of you… of us…but…”, I felt the tears start to swell in my eyes. Fuck, I didn’t want to cry. I imagine I must look crazy, why is my heart like this? I felt his fingers entwined with mine underneath the water. 

“But, you see, um… I don’t give of myself easily annnnd… I feel like you..like you have ripped me open in ways no one has in just a short amount of time. And when I open, it's like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff and….. I alllllways jump all in and its sooo fucking hard for me to get out once I jump in. It’s so hard that I’ve only allowed it once. It hurt so fucking bad when it was over. It was too hard for me to…to get out…Tae…your make me feel  fucking reckless… I love too hard, too deep. I can’t be reckless. I know I’m probably not making any sense and maybe I'm rambling.” I felt his grip tighten in between our fingers, his eyes still locked with mine as his free hand gently swiped at my tears sliding down my cheeks. I leaned into his touch unconsciously. Fuck. Im hopeless , I thought to myself letting out a sigh.

“I’m listening. I know you're nervous, but keep going I want to hear it all”, he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I can’t with you you know that”, I chuck more tears streaming down my cheeks. A smile pulls slightly at his lips. 

“Why?” He asks as he destroys my resolve by kissing my tear stained cheeks pulling away as quickly as his lips touch.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m sorry I—”, I crash my lips into his silencing him as my tonge pierces between his lips, he opens allowing me to explore him once again. We kiss tongs battle for dominance, moans falling from our mouths until we are forced to part from one another for air.

“Your too fucking perfect. I almost can’t stand it.” I bite my lip turning away from him giving us physical space before I dove into him again knowing I’d snap my last thread holding me together.

“Y/N… I don’t understand…please…help me…out here…” , he said softly and sincerely. 

“Tae. Fuck you make me feel like I’m on fire, like im being consuming by you and honestly I want more….I want you Tae. I can’t help but want to be around you …kiss you….and…I want to jump all in, and I can't. You know this better than anyone. I can’t, I shouldn't. I’m the one who loses the most here.” After the baring of my soul, the slight trembling of my body and the retreat of his hand holding mine, came the deafening silence. His body withdrew from me and his gaze turned towards the water. I turned away from him as well. I felt naked and exposed. The truth really does hurt. I felt such a relief to tell him how I felt but also it was devastating, it was finite. I had spent the most incredible moments of my 28 years of life over the last 25 days with the most beautiful, sexy, sweet and caring man I had ever ment. He had wrecked me in so many ways and today was the first day we had ever even kissed. I’m not sure how much time passed in the silence but I couldn’t take it a second longer. My thoughts were racing in my mind. Thoughts of just throwing all caution to the wind, abandoning my attempt to protect my heart just burying myself in this moment with him. Choosing my recklessness, Surrendering my mind, body and soul to him. My other thoughts, “run”, get as far as away as possible. Finally my body was able to move, I stood up out of the water, reaching for my pool towel.

“I think I’m going to go ahead and take a shower and get dressed. Take your time.” I step out of the pool without taking one glance at him, wrapping up my body and what was left of my heart and soul. 

(.....silence….)

I walked inside and straight to my room tears spilling from my eyes down my chin, I hadn’t even jumped all in yet. I knew I was saving myself the heartbreak of my life. I entered my bathroom and stripped down to nothing, turning the hot water on, I mean I wanted to melt away after all. I step in letting the warm stream over my body warm the ache in my body. And that's when I heard it, the sound of the door opening, the sound of the mental shower rung from the shower curtain scruffing against the shower rode slowly. I could feel how hyper alert my body was, my skin prickling, heart radiating heat between my legs. Just the thought of the idea that he was standing inches from me wearing absolutely nothing had my heart pounding in my chest my cunt lips swelling, and my breath shallow. What was he doing in here with me? Clearly he had rejected me at the pool with his silence. 

And that's when I felt it. His dick hard pressed  against my ass checks, his lips at the shell of my right ear, his hands cupping my hardened nippled breast. I gasped at his searing touch.

“I want you to be reckless. I want you to jump all in. I want you to let me consume all of you.” his words, his breath feathering against my ear, my body melting into him, my back pressed firmly into his chest. His lips moved down my ear over my exposed neck, licking and sucking his way down my collar bone as I continued to be putty in his hands. I couldn't help but the moans pour out of my mouth. 

“(sucking and licking) I fucking want you so bad, (moaning and sucking) please y/n let me have you.” he lets go of my breast spinning me around to face him grabbing the back of my head smashing our mouths together as our tonges battle for sensually dominance. My hands respond by lacing one hand in his hair the other swinging round his neck drawing him close to me. I grutterl moan escapes me the second I feel the tip of his harden dick rub against my swollen wet lips aching between my legs. I feel his free hand cup and squeeze my ass pressing my lips harder against his dick.

“I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I want you. Fuck.” his voice deep and sultry, his hips thrusting against my bare hot wet lips. His mouth sucked deeply and harshly into my neck leaving me bruises that would be on display for days. 

“You make me crazy, Y/N. Please. Be reckless with me.” felt his hand release my ass and slide in between us below the waist. I throw my head back as his fingers swipe slowly over my wet lips. 

“Y/N…oh my god, please, let me have you.” It was over, the plea, the beg in his voice. I’d let him hurt me, break my spirit over and over again.  His fingers teased my lips, edge me by just barely going in. His mouth again on mine moaning deeply into me. 

“Will you let me hurt you as badly as you’ll hurt me?” my heart quaked in my chest. 

“Because, no matter what, we chose it’s going to hurt.”. He was right. 

I miss you when the lights go down PT3

Taehyung X reader insert KTH AU : Military Theme / Other World KTH X Y/N are in the military together Part 1 | PART 2 PART 3

I wanted to show him just how worthy of a lover I am. That I could please him more than anyone. I wanted to take my time with him because I know that it could possibly be the first and last time I ever get to have him in this way. I had to push away the anxiety of what tomorrow could possibly bring. His rejection of me or regret of bedding me. As my last restraint fell I sprang into action eager to touch him to taste him. I bucked against him roughly throwing him off balance with surprise as I used my legs and arms to flip him on his back. The smirk on his lips egging me on, he knew he was no match against my jiu jitsu even with his body strength greater than mine. I straddled him and our breaths ragged.

“You know I let you win when we spared because I loved having you on top of me”. Licking his lips his brow cocked. 

“You keep telling yourself that Kim.”. I cooed as I leaned over him placing wet sensual kisses down his neck over his collar bone down his chest taking his nipple in my mouth lavishing it with my tongue as I rolled his other nipple between my fingers. I grinded against his hard cock as I continued my ministrations on his nipple, his moans, grunts, ahhhs and gasps causing another build up deep with him. Could be possible for me to cum just from touching him and hearing his moans. I sucked and flicked my toungue at his nipple as he met the grinding of my hips with his thrusting. I needed more of him, I kissed down his chest, down his navel to his defined V line leading to my prize, his dick. He lifted his hips instantly as I pulled down his zipped yanking of his dress pants and boxers and tossed them to the side. I straddled him once more, my soaked lips pressed down against his hard, thick cock, standing at attention desperate to be sheathed by me. I rubbed and grinded against him, dragging the tip of his cock over and over again over my wet lips, moans and grunts filling the room. 

“Please Y,N, fuck stop teasing me. let me in….”. His breaths so shalling dripping in desperation. 

“Nu uh… I don’t think so…”, I teased, grabbing his shaft, squeezing and running my hand up and down as his body shuddered beneath me.

“I’ll take what I want and I want it…”, the lust and desire in his eyes was enough to make me cum.  I was desperate as well and had enough teasing I wanted him inside me. 

“Who would've thought 1st Class Top Ranking special forces Aviator from KorifilKan would be such a little Brat. If your commander could see you now…tsk tsk.” I tease as I guide his cock through my swollen dripping cunt and allow him to sheath me. It was glorious. The feeling of him swelling inside me. We gasped together as he bottomed out within me. I couldn't help but throw my head back as I rocked my hips against his hips slow, hard, his sensual grunts egging me on. The room swelled with the sounds of our moans, pants and filled with the thick musk scent of sex. 

“Fuck, Y/N don’t stop.” Never. How could I stop he was too fucking intoxicating. I wanted more. I gasped, his name spilling from my lips as he groped my hips, thrusting into me at an incredible pace driving deeper into me.

“Your so fucking beautiful. I want more of you.” Our eyes locked as he continued to thrust up meeting me downward motion as I sheathed his cock over and over, I could feel my orgasmin growing as I clenched against him. The slapping of our skin turned me on even more. I observed as his eyes dropped to watch where his dick drove into my wet pussy over and over. 

“Tae, I’m going to come!”

“Not yet! Please baby.” He flipped me instantly grabbing my hips, positioning my ass in the air impaling me from behind, forcing my face into the bed. Only moans, and grunts filling the room as he continues with a brutal pace holding me in place with his hands gripping my hips forcing me back against him. I reach down between my legs, rubbing my clit hard and fast.

“I’m going to come!” I cry out.

“Yes, FUCK! YES Come Y/N! Come on my dick, please,” a deep primal cry leaves my mouth matching the primal grunt bursting from his gut as I felt him spilling into me his thrust slowing as he filled me to the brim. My cum soaking his cock. I felt him collapse against me kissing my shoulder as he rolled us over to the bed sideways with his dick still warm inside me. His arms wrapped around me, holding me against him as we lay quietly catching our breaths. The silence was blissful as it was threatening. I was filled with pure ecstasy. From all the foreplay, the orgasmins and to the deep intensity of our sex together. Yet, I was terrified of what was to come next. My mind began to race wondering what is the next best move. Should I get dressed and walk away, well fuck my dress is nearly shredded, I thought to myself, my heart beat increasing. What if he goes full on asshole on me leaving me here with nothing, my panic increasing. I felt him go soft inside me and slip out. I felt my best option was to call a fellow sergeant who was a friend of mine that I knew had not attended the dance that would provide me with clothes and pick me up with no questions asked. Just as I committed to that option and began to sit up moving his arms, I felt his arms tighten around my waist pulling me tight against his chest.

“And just where do you think you're going? Hmmm?” his warm breath breezes against my ear, his lips pressed against my skin. I’m frozen, not sure what to say, my heart beating in my throat. I’m trying to leave before you tell me to get out, no I can’t tell him that, it sounds too vulnerable to pathetic. I felt my walls building up, my body tense and heart on guard. I swallow. Silence.

“We’re not done yet, the night is still young. Unless…Unless there is somewhere else you need to be…or want to be”, my heart squeezed at the hint of the sound of vulnerability in his words. But as quickly as I heard it, it was replaced by my gasp and his cocky confidence, like the sexy ass mother fucker knew there was no where else in the galaxy I’d rather be then here in his arms. My gasp diminished into a moan as my still swollen, sensitive, still moist, throbbed as his deft fingers slipped in and out of me gently, almost tenderly. Fuck. He wants more, I’ll give him more, as much as he wants of me. I turned towards him laying on my back letting my legs fall open giving him more access as he propped himself on to one side. His eyes locked with mine, our lips inches from one another. My tongue darting out licking both our lips as I moan loudly arching against his touch, my pussy clenching around his fingers, my juices coating them. My eyes never leaving his, seeing the lust in them as he turned his gaze between my legs watch me squirm, writher, tremble, moaning as he fucked me with his fingers. I beautiful fucking smirk on his lips.

“Damn, Y/N. Your so fucking wet again. Nope. I’d day you have nowhere else you’d rather be. Than. Here. With Me.  Legs Open. Like. A. Fucking. Slut.” He pulsed his fingers roughly into me taking my mouth with his and moaning into me as he brought me hirer. His lips pop off of mine quickly latching on to my nipple, lavishing it with small licks and deep sucking. I moan and grunt as he brings me to my end, my fingers wrapped into his curly arching my chest and pussy towards him as my body twitches, cuming into his fingers, yanking his hair let out a primal cry. 

“Fuck! Tae Hyung….Holy Shit…” I let myself go limp as he pops off my nipple gently, dragging his fingers out of my slowly followed by licking them clean. I wrap my hand around his hardened cock that had been poking against my leg while he gave me the 2nd best orgasim of my life tonight. 

“I. Can. Say. The Same. About You. Tae.” I breathed into his lips as I pumped his cock slowly,  squeezing tightly, feeling him tremble, his breath shallow at my touch. 

“Fuck, Y/N [moaning]....you…got…me…there…..That’s why I plan [hissing] on fucking you. Allll. Niiiight….” I loved how much he was affected by my touch. He was just as desperate for me as I was for him. I wanted more. I needed more. I take his lips and quicken my pumping of his cock as I guide him back over me towards my pussy.

“Then. Get. To. Fucking. Me. Now.” I ordered as he sunk into me.

“Say less”, he moans as he starts to pound into me. I was in pure bliss. I never wanted this night to end. I wanted to wake up in his arms at the light of dawn with the look of a loved mirror in my eyes from his. I wanted us forever. Hope filled in my chest, hope that it could work, that we could against all odds be together. 

We continued through the night, the amount of times I cam, I had lost track. The amount of times we fucked a total unknown yet somehow I wanted more. I felt like I was making up for lost time and that he was worshiping my body like it was his last time. At some point. I had fallen asleep. When I woke my throat was dry and water was already there for me on the nightstand. I was so thankful for his sweet gesture. Maybe there was more to our night, the more that I so desperately wanted. My body ached. I turned to my side, finding the bed empty. 

“Tae?” I call out smiling seeing a note rolled up with a ribbon and a bag with a bow. I imagined he was out getting us breakfast. My heart swelled and my fears were casted away. I opened the bag and saw a set of clothes, his clothes to be exact. A pair of his hoodies, his sweats and lacey panties. I couldn’t wait to see him come through the door and I couldn't wait to repay him with my mouth for his thoughtfulness. As I waited I grabbed my phoning seeing that it was well into the afternoon. Time ticked away and he had not returned. No text had arrived to me or call. I finally opened the note. My heart crumbled. Anger filled my veins.

“FUCK! You Fucking Asshole!” I grabbed my belongings and headed for the door. Hoping it was not too late. I wouldn't accept this shit. I wouldn't accept this letter, I wanted him to tell me to my face. I wanted him to tell me that he had given me the best fucking of my life only to tell me goodbye. Only to tell me that he loved me and had always loved me that I’d always be the one.

No. Fuck you Kim Tae Hyung. I read the letter again to be sure. It barely contained rage. I ran into the Aviator barracks. The energy was charged, static yet grim and cold. I looked around the mess hall, noticing the ghost town feel. I marched down to the commanders hall. I knocked on the commander's door.

“What’s going on? Where is the Aviator Unit KorifilKan?”, I tried to hold back to appear as unaffected as possible but just curious.

“Aviator L/N, that’s above your pay grade. Just know that they have been called to serve and protect KorifilKan. It is a great honor and one they signed up for when they enlisted. You should be concerned with whether they succeed in their mission or not because if they fail that means we will be shipping out as well L/N. Be ready for anything”. I gritted my teeth, this couldn’t be happening. I”d burn cities to the ground. I’d burned cities to the ground Tae Hyung. 

This was not the end and only the beginning. 

One one the best KTH fanfic reader inserts I've ever read!!!

It was creative, spicey, and the character development was amazing!!

The Island | KTH (Teaser)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au (Kind of), roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 844

Warnings: swearing

Notes: A brand new story:) This is a totally different vibe so I am really nervous to post this…it starts off somewhat serious and a bit creepy but the story turns quite fluffy! Anyway, let me know what you guys think!:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung and you share a look before walking through to the kitchen and living room. You approach the rooms slowly and carefully, afraid of what you might find. What surprises could be lurking? Suddenly the white glow of the TV can be seen, making you jump with its sudden brightness. Why the hell did the TV just turn on? Is this like, a haunted house? Are you being fucking haunted? Okay, maybe that’s dramatic.

The screen is bright white with nothing else on it. You turn to face Taehyung who is already staring at you with brows pinched together in confusion. Same Taehyung, same. The two of you decide to walk closer to the TV when dark, bold numbers appear.

“10….9…8…..”

The sound of soft music can be heard playing from the TV, similar to the music that’s played in an elevator, as numbers counting down from 10 begins. You feel your insides twist and turn.

“….7….6…..”

Panicked, the two of you inch closer and closer. You two stand here waiting for something, anything to occur because these might be the longest 10 seconds of your life. The millions of questions you have only multiplying. With the seconds counting down and getting closer to zero, your breathing about fucking stops. What is going to happen? You can feel your palms grow sweaty as your heart beats out of your chest. It feels like the countdown to the end of the world.

“….5….4….3…”

You don’t think Taehyung realizes just how close he is to you, his shoulders bumping into yours. You guess fear does funny things even between strangers.

“….2…..1…….”

And then it finally happens. The timer finally reaches fucking zero. And it is safe to say your attention has been caught…anyone’s would be if a screen greets them with their god damn names.

“Welcome Kim Taehyung and Y/N Y/LN”

Your names on the screen has you automatically feeling nauseas. What sort of sick game is this? Is someone setting you up? Pranking you? If so, shits not funny. But also, why is Taehyung here? Your eyes focus on the screen as it moves to the next slide.

“It is a great honor that you two have made it this far. You have been carefully selected in this company’s project. After a lot of consideration and impressive results—we have decided to move you to the next phase.”

Naturally, very naturally you become even more confused than you fucking started. What projects? What company? You can hear Taehyung swallow hard, his nerves spiking with each word he reads. Then the slides continue.

“To put it simply, we are in the business of love.”

Huh? Huh?

Taehyung and you break your focus on the screen to steal a glance at one another very briefly before turning your heads back to the TV. What the hell they mean love? What is this absolute nonsense?

“Our use of science, technology and logic has got us here today. We test and heavily observe our chosen subjects and decide if they are the perfect match. We then move them to the final phase: The Island. This is where the two subjects meet and get along for the first time. The place they will undoubtedly fall in love.”

You can’t help that your mouth falls open, you are sure your eyes are bulging out of your head. You dare to turn to look at Taehyung and he isn’t looking much better.

Before you can really gather any thoughts the slides continue.

“Our success rate is 99%. You WILL fall in love here, it is most probable. Other subjects will come to fall in love quickly, other will take their time. BUT don’t take too long~ If two subjects are taking too long to make progress we will send a ‘Request’ to move things along and if you fail to meet said request there will be a penalty. And you have 24 hours to complete the request. This is to help you.”

You shiver while reading the words before you. You are now too anxious to even look at Taehyung right now…you don’t want to even see his reaction to all of this. Is he anxious like you? Is he laughing because there’s no way this is real? Is he nodding along taking notes because he believes it? You don’t want to fucking know!

“We give soulmates the opportunity to meet and thrive. This particular project has been in the works for well over a year.”

You blink lazily at that. Well over a year? WELL OVER A YEAR? They’ve been watching you for over a year?!

“We have carefully observed each one of you in great detail. There is nothing we don’t know. We have matched you two to be most compatible.”

Nothing they don’t know? What the hell does that mean? How exactly did they fucking observe you two? You stand here with eyes wide open and mouth agape. Taehyung mirrors your expression. He doesn’t want to believe this either.

“And you two are finally ready to proceed with The Island.”

This fic is so amazing! 🔥 I cant get enough of it! Every friday is like christmas! Love the main characters and thw story line! Top fav tae and reader fanfic!

Of Ruin: Chapter 12 || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: language, tense situations with dangerous vampires, violence: vampire biting and feeding!!, lots of blood!!!, kissing wc: 4.8k

You spend the ride back to the palace in silence. You can’t even watch the beautiful landscape roll by, because Taehyung keeps the curtains closed as a precaution.

At the palace, he walks you back to your rooms. He doesn’t kiss you goodbye; you aren’t sure if you expected him to or not. Instead he takes your hand, glances up the hall where a team of guards wait for him, and gives it two quick squeezes before striding away, his footfalls echoing in the stone corridor.

You wait anxiously in the main room until the door opens, Namjoon looking just as relieved to see you as you are to see him.

You wonder if Jimin and the guard who took the main road made it back okay.

You don’t tell Namjoon about this kiss, nor about Taehyung’s comments about wanting you to stay.

You do fill him in on the meeting with the Scores, and Taehyung’s tentative plan for his reign.

“That’s ambitious,” Namjoon admits, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “He’ll have his work cut out for him.”

“He’s determined,” you say, somewhat absently. “I think the Scores might be on board. They’re not immediately objecting, anyway.”

“Would you stay?” Namjoon asks, dark eyes on yours inquisitively. “As, like, a representative for above?”

You shrug, averting your gaze, lest he spy your secrets in your eyes. “If he wanted me,” you say. “Of course, I’d try to help.”

Namjoon hums in response, meaning he doesn’t want to say what he really thinks.

You can’t find it in you to care.

About half the Scores return to court. No more attacks come. Satuel tells you, when you inquire, that that coach had been stopped by riders on the main road, but when they found only Jimin, they made no trouble.

You fall back into your routine. You spend your days reading through the notes Namjoon took at the archives. You spend your nights practicing magic, branching out from defensive spells and beginning to dabble with practical magic, and the odd offensive move.

Over the next week you break your lamp three more times while practicing, and you try to counter Taehyung’s curse - unsuccessfully - just as many.

The first two fizzle out and go nowhere, unceremonious and anticlimactic. The third one goes wrong so immediately that Namjoon physically yanks you away from Taehyung to break the connection, black smoke rising from each of your palms as you break away.

Taehyung heals your burns, the first time he’s touched you since you said goodbye after kissing in the carriage.

You feel stalled out; you feel your wheels spinning.

“Taehyung,” you say heavily, one of the evenings he comes to check your nonexistent progress. “We’re still missing something. Something we thought we had worked out isn’t right. I’m telling you. Something’s messed up.”

“What do you need?” he asks, looking back at you seriously. “More time at the archives? I could take you back -”

“I need to see the curse at work,” you say determinedly. It’s been over a month since you’d last had this argument, since the prince had put his foot down definitively. “I’ve been saying it since the beginning, and it’s still true. I have to.”

“We discussed this already,” he says tightly. “I won’t allow it.”

“Maiesti,” you say desperately. “We’ve run out of other choices. No book will tell me what I need - the curse will. If I can’t crack this, everything else you’re working on will never happen. You can’t do anything you’ve planned until this is solved.”

He stares at you, and it’s plain on his face how much he hates that you’re right.

“I can keep myself safe,” you say. Beside you, Namjoon murmurs your name, apprehensive. “You’ve seen me do it. I’m better now than I was then, I’ve practiced and practiced - I can do it, I can keep you back.”

The prince looks like he wants to vomit. “I can’t,” he croaks. “I can’t allow it.”

“We have to -”

“What if the worst happens?” he snaps, breaking. “What if I kill you? Seriously - that is a serious question! Think about that. I could kill you.”

“I’ll send you through a wall,” you say, half-joking. But you both know you can.

He shakes his head. “It’s too risky.”

“The bigger risk is never breaking the curse,” you say. “Think how much is at stake, now. You can only hold off the Scores for so long before they move back to the offensive. War is on the line, Taehyung, is that what you want for your people? Is my life worth more to you than the good of Infracticus? It shouldn’t be.”

He swears in his people’s ancient language, turning away from you, rubbing his face roughly, as he often does when overwhelmed.

Namjoon takes this opportunity to say your name again, quietly.

“I know what decision I’m making,” you say stonily, to both of them. “I know the risks, I know the dangers. We have to. We’ve come to a point where this is the only solution.”

“Fine,” Taehyung snaps, finally, turning back to you, eyes narrowed and mouth tight. “Fine. Is tonight too soon?”

You blanch. “Tonight?”

He looks at you, pleading. “Please. I can’t go through a whole day knowing it’s coming. The sooner we do this, the less time I’ll spend sick with worry. So - can you? Will you?”

“Yeah,” you say shakily. “Yes. Yes, we can do it tonight.”

“Fine,” he says, and when his voice is cold this time, you know it’s because he’s scared. “Satuel will bring you before midnight.”

He leaves without goodbye, as he used to do.

Namjoon says your name, more insistent this time.

“I know,” you tell him. “Believe me. You trust me, right?”

“I think so,” he says, which makes you laugh.

“It’s going to be fine,” you tell him.

—

The room Prince Taehyung spends his nights in is nicer than you’d envisioned, though not as nice as his actual wing of the palace.

Prince Taehyung sits at a wooden table, legs crossed so that one ankle rests on his knee. He eyes you coldly when the guards let you in the room.

Once, you would have seen his coldness and felt small. You know better now.

“It’s going to be okay,” you tell him, as gently as you can.

He swallows, looks at the floor. Then he rises, walking towards you. He stops before you, raises his gaze to meet yours. His eyes, irises white and human, dance with something too complicated to name.

“How can you be willing to do this?” he asks, something broken in his voice. “How, when you know the risks?”

Something in you breaks too, a dam that has been holding back every foolish, dead-end, illogical feeling you’ve been having these past months: because I love you, you think. Because I love you, and I want to save you.

You don’t say it, don’t say anything, but he’s watching your face carefully, and you think maybe he hears you anyway, somehow. He raises one shaky hand and cups your face, so light it’s barely there.

He kisses you chastely, gently, then shuffles backwards, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Three minutes,” he says. “Put the wall up now. Do it now.”

“Taehyung,” you say, but you have nothing to follow it. You do as he says, pulsing your palms towards the floor between you, feeling the magic swim through you.

You both watch the clock, together, in silence.

He paces, and you miss the moment he leaves you, leaving only the beast. But you notice his movements grow choppier, and you watch the exact second that he smells you.

His head wheels around, fangs displayed, crackling grumbles beginning to emit from deep in his chest. He stalks towards you, elbows bent up behind him, until he hits your wall. He bounces backwards almost comically, then snarls louder, eyes narrowed at you. They swirl, like pools of ink.

He tries again, slower this time, pressing his hands to the wall he cannot see, investigative. You try to breathe evenly, to ensure the magic holds. His gaze snaps back to you, his mind putting together the pieces and figuring that you are causing the problem.

He snarls at you, jaw snapping, lip curled, cursing your existence in the ancient language of the Infracti, which you aren’t sure he’s even fluent in when he’s himself.

You put your shoulders back and walk closer to the wall you made.

“If you want something,” you tell him firmly, “then you need to ask me in my language.”

The beast freezes in place, eyes locking on you. The curl in his lip relaxes just slightly, and he blinks at you. He cocks his head just slightly and blinks again. It’s like you can see him thinking, cogs in his head turning.

Then, voice raspy and entirely unlike Taehyung’s low, honeyed tones, he grits out, “Drink?”

Your heart pounds.

“Not too much,” you say, still firm, like you’re giving directions to an unruly toddler. “If you take too much, I’ll die, and then you never get more.”

His head cocks to the other side. His brows furrow. “Small?” he asks.

“Very small,” you say. Your legs don’t even feel like jelly beneath you - they feel like nothing, so numb with fear that they could be gone and you wouldn’t know. “From here.”

You hold out your wrist, veins up, and look at him. “You understand?”

“Yes,” he says, licking his lips in anticipation.

“I’m putting the wall down,” you tell him. “Come slowly.”

He waits, and you do. When you nod, he comes forward on that jolting, uneven gait, as if it’s screwing up his whole balance to move at a human pace for your sake.

He takes your arm in his hands, nails biting into your skin as he forgets his inhuman strength, and you grimace.

“Only a little,” you remind him, heart pounding so hard in your ribcage that it’s almost painful.

His swirling, black eyes land on yours as he brings his mouth to your wrist. You feel like you can’t breathe, the anticipation is so strong. A detached part of you knows that he could get one taste and lose this tentative control, that this could be your last moment.

You sort of wish you’d called your parents before coming.

You cry out when his fangs sink into you, instinctively flinching away, but he holds you so tight that you stumble closer to him instead. The pain is bone-deep, not a shallow pinch like a shot - and that’s frightening, your systems telling your brain that there’s danger, that something is wrong. You start to struggle, to try fruitlessly to push him away, alarms going haywire in your mind, and then -

And then the venom hits you.

The pain is eradicated - or, at least, you don’t notice it anymore. Instead, a high comes over you, and you feel like you’re floating away, the room going quite bright as you feel the unfamiliar and startling sensation of blood being pulled towards the wound as Taehyung sucks at it, his tongue running circles over and around the puncture marks.

“Enough,” you manage to say, your voice seeming disembodied to you, coming from nowhere. The beast lifts his mouth and snarls at you, before returning to lap at the rivulets of red that run over your wrist bone.

“You said small,” you remind him, trying to stay grounded. “Let me breathe, let me make sure I’m okay, and then you can have more.”

He utters a sentence at you in his language, hands tightening on your arm to the point they hurt.

“Back off, or I’ll knock you back,” you warn him. His eyes narrow as he processes the threat. It might be empty - you’re not sure you can do it one-handed.

Then, for just a second, his eyes flash human again, the whites showing. It’s him, your Taehyung, and he releases your arm so frantically it’s as if it burns to touch it. He takes two steps back, eyes wide and frightened. You blink, and he’s gone. The beast is back again, that quickly, frustration coming back over his features.

You throw the wall up as quickly as you can.

It doesn’t work.

He’s on you in an instant, so quickly you don’t see him move. Your back hits the wall behind you and you let out an audible grunt. He cages you in, a hand on either shoulder, pressing you into place against the stone, and he uses his tongue to swipe along his fangs, cleaning remnants of your blood from them, as he looks you over. Slowly, he leans his weight on you, his hips pinning your hips, his chest pinning your chest, his hands firm on the fronts of your shoulders.

Your breath comes in and out in shaky waves. You’re not sure you’d still be standing if he weren’t holding you in place. You try not to think about all the places your bodies are touching, the weight of him over you, the stuttering rhythm of your heartbeat, the fiery look that he settles over you. You try not to think about how precarious this is, how easily he could let go of his control and simply tear your throat out in one seamless motion.

He sniffs at you, fangs displayed and ready, as if trying to find the place most palatable. Your heart pounds desperately, and beneath his inhumanly strong hold, you can feel your muscles shaking. Your body knows you are about to die, even if your mind still wants to lie to you about it, to pretend otherwise.

He chooses a spot near the base of your neck, near the front, and laves at the spot with his tongue, giving a happy hum as your pulse thunders visibly over the inch of skin. You close your eyes, feeling your whole body shudder in terror.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, barely able to give volume to the word.

The beast pulls back and looks at you, reacting to the sound of its name. Somewhere in there, he recognizes it. Somewhere in there, he recognizes you; you watch as he draws even further back, then removes one hand from your shoulders and reaches for your uninjured wrist instead.

He lifts your limb to his mouth easily and you flinch before anything even happens.

“Here?” he asks, in that gritty, not-Taehyung voice, and your eyes snap to his.

He’s asking permission.

You are not going to die. Maybe.

“Small,” you utter. Then, since it seemed to work a second ago to use his name, to remind him who he is, “You promised, Taehyung. A small one.”

The puncture hurts - enough that you cry out again, the pain deep and throbbing, the cry morphing into a sob of agony - but the high comes quickly, melting it away. The sensation of blood being pulled to your wrist is less frightening this time, and you breathe deeply, trying to assess how dizzy you are, if you need to tell him to stop yet.

“Enough,” you say, and he licks one last stripe over the wound before taking his mouth away. Blood smears around his lips and down his chin, but his black eyes watch yours, obedient, waiting. His chest heaves as he waits, like it’s hard work.

Maybe it is.

Maybe it is only a sliver of Taehyung’s humanity shining through that is keeping you alive right now.

You both wait, him still pressing you to the wall by one shoulder. You breathe, closing your eyes for a long inhale and then opening them again.

Taehyung’s eyes are human, and he opens his mouth as if to speak. He blinks. They go black again. Whatever comes out of his mouth isn’t human.

He presses closer again, raising the wrist he just bit up to his face and inhaling deeply. He sticks out his tongue and licks over it once more, then continues to trace up your forearm with his tongue, past the crook of your elbow, stopping when he finds the pulsing point of the brachial artery in your fleshy upper arm.

“Here?” he asks again. He shudders, blinks, and your Taehyung looks at you.

This time he manages to speak, all in a rush, before he’s sucked under again. “You should run,” he tells you, breathless, and then only snarls fall from his lips as his eyes flash black again.

You press a hand to the monster’s cheek, blood still rising to clot at the first wound he’d given you. The beast looks at you, waiting, mouth still inches from your bicep, waiting for permission.

“Yes,” you whisper.

This one hurts worse - maybe the bite is deeper. You hear yourself shout and your eyes roll back, your knees giving out beneath you. The beast uses both hands and his hips to hold you up, press you in place, as he sucks and licks at the twin wounds in your arm.

The high comes, but combined with the blood loss it’s no longer pleasant and floaty. Instead, you feel yourself weakening, unable to remind Taehyung to stop, unable to even stand. The room goes fuzzy as he pulls more blood from you, becoming nothing but colors, and your head spins so violently that it makes you want to cry out.

He stops when your head lolls, brow furrowing as if he’s trying to remember why he doesn’t want you gone. He licks at his lips, rising to stand, and picks you up, your jelly-like arms flopping over his shoulders. He carries you easily to the large bed on the other side of the room and places you down gently on your back.

Your head lolls to the side and you work on breathing, work on staying here, not floating away. The beast sits on the bed next to you, cross-legged, and waits, watching your chest rise and fall, watching your eyes go unfocused and then come back again.

After some time, you do settle back into yourself, the high from his venom dissipating and your mind clearing as you rest. You still feel weak, a bit dizzy, but the room comes into focus again.

The beast has been waiting, and he sees it immediately when you’re coherent again. He stretches out his legs and rolls over top of you, holding himself up with his arms. He presses his nose to your most recent wound, the one in your upper arm, and gives it a long sniff, and then one last lick.

Then, he noses his way up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps, past your shoulder, and up to the junction of your neck. He presses his lips to the spot he wants, licking at it, feeling your pulse thud against his tongue. You feel him shudder, wanting.

“Here?” he asks, leaning up to look at you.

“Last one,” you breathe, unable to sound any more firm than that. You can only pray that he listens, that enough Taehyung is in there to know you mean it. “Last one, or it’ll be too much.”

“Small,” he says, a promise, and lays himself over you, heavy. He sinks his fangs into your neck and your whole body reacts to the white-hot pain, hands coming up to claw fruitlessly at his upper arms, legs scrabbling against the sheets, eyes screwing shut, breaths heaving noisily through your open mouth as you pant through the pain.

He drinks longer here, despite his promise, licking and licking over the spot like one might scrape the bottom of the bowl for any last dregs of soup. You float, incoherent, trying to count your inhales and exhales, trying to measure your heartbeats and ensure they’re not slowing too much.

He doesn’t remove himself from you when he’s done, and it’s honestly kind of nice having his heaviness over your body - you know you can’t actually float away, something is tethering you here. He sniffs and licks and presses his lips against the wound on your neck, but doesn’t drink more, doesn’t suck anything from it.

Then, as your head begins to clear a final time, he noses his way up your jaw, still pressing his open mouth to spot after spot, tongue tasting your skin but not puncturing it. Finally, he finds your mouth, pressing his lips to yours in a searing, lingering kiss that you try your best to return.

When he pulls away to look at you, his eyes are his own, brown and anguished.

“There you are,” you manage, trying to reach up for his face. You can’t get your hand high enough, and your arm flops uselessly back to the mattress. For some reason, this makes tears prick at your eyes. You want to touch him, your Taehyung, want to feel closer to him, protected by him. Instead, you can only look at him as he pants over top of you, clearly exerting himself even as he’s holding himself still.

“Run,” he begs in between pants. You shake your head, flopping from side to side. You don’t want to leave him. Your Taehyung is here, fighting to get through, and you don’t want to leave him.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and he closes his eyes, still panting. Fighting. Fighting it with everything he has. “Please.”

“I’m - trying -” he lets out between gritted teeth, but when his eyes open again they’ve gone black again.

You wait for him to pick a new place to bite, to ask permission. Instead, he shifts to lay next to you instead of over top of you. He pulls you tight against his chest, one arm over your middle, tangles his legs between yours, and buries his face in the back of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“No more?” you ask, trying to turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. You find it hard to believe that he’s satiated… but that last bite was long, dizzying. Maybe he is.

“You said,” he grumbles, the monster’s gritty voice still coming out somewhat petulant and pouty. “You said last one.” Then, his voice turns hopeful. “Tomorrow? More tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you breathe; it’s an easy promise to make - tomorrow you can talk to normal Taehyung, your Taehyung. Tomorrow at this time, chances are you’ll be safe in your own rooms. It’s a promise you won’t have to keep.

“Yes,” the beast grumbles, wiggling closer to you, but you think it’s a happy grumble. “More tomorrow. Now, sleep.”

The room spins a few times, then settles. You feel him press his lips to your shoulder, then return to the back of your neck. It takes a lot of strength, but eventually you manage to lift your hand high enough to grip his.

With his body firm behind yours, his hand under your hand, his breath against your neck, you let yourself float away.

—

You’re awakened abruptly by hands jerking you around by your arms - lifting you up, rolling you over, turning you this way and that with a frantic energy that you are too sleepy to comprehend.

“Stop,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut. Somewhere deep in your mind you know it’s Taehyung, and you know he’s freaking out, but you were sleeping so well, and you’re so bone-tired - probably from the blood loss. You just want him to leave you in peace, in the dark room and fluffy bed, to sleep many more hours. “Taehyung, stop it.”

“I bit you,” he utters, horrified. He’s holding you in a sitting-up position, and you work hard to open your eyes to slits so you can see him. His eyes - humanlike, beautiful brown - dance between the puncture marks on your upper arm and the ones on your neck. He curses in Infracti, the word coming out quieter than a whisper. “I hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” you insist, eyes adjusting. “I’m tired, and I’m starving, but I’m fine.”

You scoot away from him a little, laying back against the headboard, too weak to hold yourself up for long. He’d been kneeling as he turned you from side to side, assessing the damage, but as you get more comfortable he climbs off the bed entirely, coming around and sitting on the edge near your torso.

He clearly hasn’t cleaned up this morning - he’s in last night’s rumpled clothes, dried blood caked on his jaw. Despite this, he looks no more dangerous right now than a teddy bear, with huge, worried eyes and a pronounced frown.

“I can’t believe you’re even alive,” he utters, still whispering. “Why did I agree to this? God, you could have died, I could have killed you -” His voice completely breaks, and he brings up a hand to cover his face, ashamed and guilty.

“Taehyung,” you say, reaching up to tug his hand away. He lets you, but looks steadfastly at his feet, his eyes swimming. “Hey - I let you, I told you it was okay. You didn’t do anything without my permission -”

“I know,” he bites out, then swallows hard, his facial muscles quivering as he fights off emotion. “I know, I remember, but it doesn’t matter - it was still dangerous. It’s a miracle you’re alive -”

You stare at him. “What do you mean, you remember?”

He freezes too, coming to the same realization as you.

“I… remember,” he repeats, eyes widening. He turns his body to face you, looking at you wildly, desperate for an explanation. “I remember every bit of it,” he adds, voice breathy with disbelief. “I couldn’t stop myself from doing any of it, but I was there.” His eyes linger on yours, lost and baffled. “How can that be?”

“You broke through,” you say softly, the only explanation to the magic’s inconsistency. “Somehow, you pushed through it - enough to control yourself, and enough to remember.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, deep voice still breathy, shaking a little.

“It means…” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “It means that even when the curse is active, your humanity isn’t gone, it’s just suppressed. It’s there, we can reach it. I’ve had this wrong all along - my countercurse was trying to replace it… but really, I needed to just… unbury it. And…”

“And?” He tilts his head cutely.

“And… well, there’s probably a level of…”

You trail off, embarrassed, unsure. You don’t know how Taehyung feels, but you know magic and countercurses.

“What?” he asks, reaching for your hands, which lay limp over your lap.

You press your lips together, mine for courage. “It seems like you came through once you recognized me. It makes me wonder… I mean, I’d hypothesize… whatever it is you f-feel for me,” you stumble over the words, starting to mumble, “acts as a counter to something built into the curse.”

He blinks at you a few times, his thumbs absently stroking the backs of your hands. Then, as if he’s asking about your breakfast order, he clarifies, “Love? Love counters something in the curse?”

You pull your hands from his, your body reacting defensively - as if it’s sure this is a joke being played on you.

“What?” he asks, oblivious.

“You what?” you manage, heart pounding desperately against your ribs.

He frowns at you, like you’re being purposely obtuse. “I love you,” he repeats, like it’s not a big deal at all, no more weighty than saying I’m wearing black shoes tonight.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, shaking your head. “What are you saying? You can’t love me - I’m nothing, just a human, I’m not -”

“Are you joking?” he asks, and he actually looks angry, suddenly. “Nothing?” He scoots closer, brushes his thumb up your jaw, then leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. “You have never been nothing,” he says, voice dangerously low. “Never.”

You want to protest, to object, but then he’s lifting his chin to slot his lips against yours - soft at first, then more insistent - and the words die on your tongue, replaced by a small, happy sigh.

When he pulls away, he shakes his head, eyes closing. “Y/N, if something had gone wrong last night, and it had been my fault, I think I would have lost my mind. Truly. I might be losing my mind anyway just because it almost happened. I’m so sorry you went through this.”

“Nothing almost happened,” you press back. “I knew what I was getting into. I knew what I was agreeing to.”

He shakes his head again, wordless, and reaches for you, long fingers reaching to pull you from your spot against the pillows into his lap instead. You allow it, letting him pull you closer until you’re straddling his legs, his arms wrapped tight around your back, pulling you ever closer.

Safe, you think, as he presses his face to the top of your head, giving you a squeeze.

Lips close enough to your ear that he can speak so quietly it’s barely there, he murmurs, “You must have been terrified.”

“No,” you assert, shaking your head, causing him to pull away and look at you. “Not once I knew it was you.”

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KBYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!