DAECHWITA: Chapter 8

DAECHWITA: Chapter 8

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“You do realize we have the means to fake our deaths, right?”

Chapter 8: Burn It (Till It's All Gone)

📜6.9K words | Approx. 30-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings: Scheming continues, themes of revenge, negligence, and resentment. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

It had been years.

The boys had reached the peak of their puberty once they started high school. Their extraordinary normal routine continued—civilian cosplay with their shadow parents during the weekdays, mask off in the palace on the weekends. They were growing up. They were growing up so well into such fine young men, and there was still no word from James.

Of course Hyejin would have loved to show him his son’s first steps. The day he said his first word. Maybe he would have even been understanding that Chris had a sibling albeit from someone else, but they were still brothers. They were wreaking havoc together just like he said they would. 

It was a lot of could have beens but it was okay nevertheless. Hyejin had put a deadbolt on her heart and hid it away in some dusty chest. If her other half was alive and well somewhere, maybe their paths would cross again. Maybe one day she could indeed set out to find him like she told him. Maybe he was really waiting for her as he promised. 

Maybe they could be together again in another lifetime.

“I’m afraid young master Christopher has got his heart stolen, your highness.”

Every time Mina visited her chambers to do her usual reporting on her boys, that was the one thing Hyejin had always dreaded to hear. She knew whatever Chris thought was feeling was temporary. Nothing could compare to that very special someone, and no matter how much she wanted to sit him down to talk to him about it, she knew it was going to be in vain. He would maybe listen just to be polite and squeeze a couple of ‘You’re right’s here and there, but she knew all her words were going to evaporate as she was saying them. 

Kids. They only ever said a heartfelt ‘You’re right’ once they experienced that horrible pain firsthand.

“Who is it?”

“A young lady by the name of Elizabeth. They make music together.”

“Does he know that you know?”

“I don’t think so.”

Ah, of course. It made sense why he felt like he had already met the one. Chris could have argued this Elizabeth girl was his first love all he wanted, but Hyejin knew for a fact that it wasn’t. It was music. And bonding solely over a mutual interest did not a soulmate make. If only he knew. If only he knew Minhyuk and Jun’s little girl was his doppelganger from the opposite realm. If only he knew he would combust in admiration if he saw what she was capable of doing with music. If only he knew they were both equally headstrong, bled passion, and in search of the same degree of normal. They spoke the exact same language and were just perfect for each other.

“I also think you should know that the young masters are thinking of leaving the country after graduation, your highness.”

“They– They what?”

Sheer panic. Her boys were going to leave? But there was no reason to leave. They could be happy here. There was no one chasing after them. There was no one threatening to hurt them. How was she going to be able to protect them from afar? How could she just sit there and watch herself be gradually erased from their lives? No. No. Just no.

“Their acceptance letters from Juilliard have arrived this Wednesday,” Mina continued solemnly, “Young master Christopher will be studying composition while young master Hyunjin will be studying dance.”

“You were supposed to tell me this while they were scheming a future, Mina.”

“I wasn’t aware of their plans until the mail arrived, your highness. I wholeheartedly apologize.”

Hyejin got mad at herself for lashing out at Mina like that. The woman did everything she possibly could to be by her side for years—even became a second mother to her sons. It wasn’t her fault that there were some things the boys were able to hide despite all the hidden eyes watching over them because why wouldn’t there be?

Kids. They always found a way to outsmart their parents one way or another. That being said, Hyejin could rely on her boy to make one mistake for he was carrying all the symptoms of being driven by emotion.

“Are they going to attend their senior dance?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“Tell Chris some sob story about the fleeting youth. I don’t care what it is,” she spoke to her aide resolutely, “Make sure he feels compelled to confess to this girl that night. I want Jiyong to watch him from afar and bring them both home.”

“Your highness…”

“Do as I say, Mina,” she firmly ordered, more like a queen rather than a mother.

“I’ll tell her I love her tonight.”

Right when they stepped foot into their school’s gym, these were the words Chris spoke to his brother while his eyes scanned the whole place to find his person of interest. Immediate panic flared in Hyunjin’s guts.

“Don’t do it tonight,” he countered with composure which was the complete opposite of the ruckus that broke out inside him, “Wait just a little longer. We’re almost there.”

“I know how Jiwon is looking at her. I have to do something before he does.”

“Then do it on our fucking graduation!”

“Who knows where she’ll be in a month if she doesn’t know!”

Goddammit, Chris!

Why? Why was he always this headstrong? Didn’t Chris insist on applying to Juilliard just because Liz was going to be in New York, too? They could fucking book same-day tickets and he could confess his love at the goddamn airport while he was at it. Why now?

Why… now?

Why risk ruining Hyunjin’s plans, too?

He made it seem like it didn’t really matter to him where he would go to school as long as he could study dance, but Hyunjin had a secret buried ten feet under his soul. A secret he couldn’t even tell his brother about.

A girl. 

Marilyn. The complete opposite of the icon that popped into everyone’s head. By herself mostly. Most people would say she had ginger hair, but Hyunjin saw fire there.

The first time he saw her was during home economics class. They were randomly paired and she taught him how to glaze a cake. She didn’t talk much—in fact, she spoke to him so rarely that Hyunjin knew every sentence she had uttered by heart. 

“This is nothing compared to what I will learn at the Culinary Institute of New York.”

New York. She was going to go to New York.

During lunch breaks, she would pick up her Moleskine notebook and sit down under the cherry blossom tree, writing and writing god knows what. Maybe stories, maybe diary entries, maybe recipes she was making up in her head. She watched the sky a lot. Every time she noticed the contrails of a passing plane highlighted by the sun like a golden magic marker, it made her smile. Hyunjin had no idea why he was so drawn to her.

He didn’t talk to her either. Whenever he noticed she was walking towards the tree, he would jump from his seat and run after her just to slow down to give the impression that he was casually making his way there. He would go sit under the tree with her and write little poems on his own. Sometimes they would lie down side by side in silence and watch the sky together. They would smile at each other sometimes, but that was it.

Hyunjin was going to say hi to her the second he received his diploma. He was going to invite her somewhere quiet and ask her about what she was writing all this time. Whether her lines mentioned him at all. When she was leaving and whether she wanted to see the Empire State with him. He wanted to gift her a lifetime supply of Moleskine notebooks. He wanted to hold hands with her, have his first kiss with her, and when the time was right, ask her permission to become one with her. Clumsily make love to her, explore his body with her, write poems inspired by her fiery hair for her, recite it for her, and make love to her again. He wanted to surrender to her.

All in due time. When he was finally free.

“Do you have any idea what your foolishness could have cost us?”

If only Chris wasn’t that stubborn. If only he could hold himself back for two more seconds. If only he wasn’t the reason why Hyunjin was filled to the brim with an insufferable grudge for he took away the one thing he wanted for the longest time. To be happy. And be free.

It broke Hyejin’s heart to a million pieces to do that, too, but one day…

Hopefully one day they would understand why she wasn’t ready to let them go.

As much as Minhyuk was excited on your behalf that you were about to take your first steps into young adulthood, he was also aware of the frequent meltdowns you were having over choosing schools. He decided he wouldn’t say anything until you received all the responses for your applications when in fact he knew they were all going to be acceptances. All the more reason for you to flip.

While going through the mail that particular morning, when he saw the letter from The Royal Academy, he heaved an exasperated sigh.

“Hyejin, I swear to fucking god…”

Yes, she wasn’t even trying to be subtle doing everything in her power to make you and Chris cross paths, but this once he didn’t have an excuse to outright refuse. It was your education in question, and more importantly, it was you who made the choice to apply there. But he’d be damned if he didn’t have a little confrontation with her about her matchmaking obsession.

“You are aware we’re not royal descendants, right?”

“Who cares?”

“What do you mean ‘Who cares’?” Minhyuk threw his hands in the air, “Weren’t you the one forbidding your sons from having relations with non-royal folk because of, what was it, their obligation to your ancestors? How are you going to be able to explain yourself?”

“You think I don’t know the only royal people the boys are able to encounter are themselves?”

Jesus fucking christ very much.

You may not have been royalty, but if it ever came to that, nobody could refute how special you were. How strong and determined you were. That trumped being royalty. You were the only exception to the rule she self-imposed to serve her not-so-ulterior motives. 

“You know we offer the best education she could ever receive, Minhyuk,” Hyejin offered a solid argument, “I know you think I’m being delusional and whatnot, but please do not deter her if she wants to make a favorable decision.”

He was thinking. A part of him wanted to intervene, but the sane part of him wanted to let you do whatever you wanted with your life. He knew you weren’t able to experience an average childhood as it was, and he would feel horrible if you resented him for a choice he made for you. He had made enough decisions on your behalf already.

“You know how indebted I am to you and Jun,” Hyejin touched her friend’s arm before leaving, “Please keep this in mind too while you’re judging me.”

I want her to be as graceful as a queen.

Hyejin couldn’t give a damn about how intact one’s manners were—it most certainly didn’t define the worth of a person, but Jun’s last words had been haunting her for years. Minhyuk was so adamant about his principles that if she told him ‘I will be giving etiquette classes to your daughter’ he would remarkably lose his mind thinking it was an attempt to make you more feminine. It had nothing to do with it. Selfish maybe, delusional even, but the voices in her head kept telling her that she would stop waking up in cold sweat in the middle of the night, that she would stop dreaming about Jun and wilting forget-me-nots when you stepped foot on these grounds. That Jun would stop questioning her every single night.

You promised. You know they belong together. What’s taking so long?

But everything needed a proper disguise. She indeed had to play one teeny tiny mind trick with you to put her grand plan in motion.

When she extended you an offer, Hyejin absolutely despised herself for even pretending she would do anything to harm Minhyuk or his beloved dojo. She just took advantage of the bond you had with your father, fully aware you wouldn’t do anything to put him in danger. Bluffing to that extent was a huge leap of faith maybe, but you took the bait. That was what mattered at the end of the day.

The only way Minhyuk was not going to object to this deal was to make it a mutual agreement. His gigantic pride was always in the way of him asking for or receiving any kind of help—there was absolutely no way he would accept it if Hyejin insisted she wanted to take on the responsibility of your education. Yes, she had other items on her agenda, as well, but your future was genuinely among the top of her priorities to even begin to make it up to your parents for what they had done for her.

Therefore, it wasn’t a complete lie when she posed the condition of you serving The Royal Family in an instructional capacity. She knew about Minhyuk training you for years. She knew this was the perfect opportunity to assign you as an assistant to the Military Arts program that just happened to be Chris’ major.

But more importantly, this put the parties on equal grounds: you were going to receive something by offering something in return, effectively eliminating the concept of ‘charity’ from Minhyuk’s mind. As far as she was concerned, this was a fair trade.

Then came the more tricky part. 

The only reason Hyejin wanted to move you to the guesthouse was to give you privacy so that you wouldn’t feel like you were being watched like she actually was for years. On the other hand, the knowledge of Hyunjin building an entire playground there made her anxious to no end. She couldn’t let it be known to her younger son that she was very much aware of what he was up to, but she was also worried that Hyunjin was not going to let you be. You were a bit too fascinating to stay away from.

Please. He’s going to relentlessly tempt you. Charm you. Make you feel like you’re the only thing that matters to him, but it’s not true. He’s not the one for you. Resist him. Please.

It was nothing more than wishful thinking of course. Somewhere along the way, something she couldn’t quite figure out had happened to her sunshine. He used to be a boy that appreciated the small beauties life had to offer. He used to chase butterflies. He used to have such a delicate soul. Then all of a sudden he had turned into this insatiable demon that was eerily reminiscent of some late tyrant. It wasn’t long before she heard the message on the wind about you and Hyunjin.

What have you done, sunshine? Why are you throwing tantrums this time?

She was indeed disappointed, but this wasn’t your fault. Not one bit. Hyunjin was his father’s son, and that ugly truth was bound to resurface at some point.

On one particularly deep, dark night, Hyejin had enough of the commotion going on inside her head and ran down the dimly lit corridors leading to The Zen Room. Barefoot. With only her nightgown on, her hair flowing past her waist looking like a charcoal stream rushing down her back. She walked into the room, panting, looking at the scripts she decorated the walls with, and thought about Minhyuk. Then she slowly made her way to the interior garden and caressed the jasmines and forget-me-nots she planted there with tears running down her face unbeknownst to her. She thought about Jun. She thought about James. She thought about Chris, about you, and that was when she started to doubt her own sanity.

Had she been clinging onto the ghost of something all this time? Did she read a little too much into it maybe? Was she indeed trying to force fate into something she just wished to see?

She knew her treasure was falling for you. She could swear you felt the same way too, but why didn’t it happen already? Did she miscalculate something in this formula for happiness that didn’t really exist? Did she spectacularly fail to read between the lines?

“One sign,” she whispered to the delicate flowers, “All I need is one sign for better or worse. Then I promise I’ll let it go.”

The sign Hyejin had asked for had appeared in the form of her own son basically confessing his feelings for you, immediately prompting her to think about one last scheme. 

“Is it the young lady from your prom night?” 

“No.” 

“Is it one of your current classmates?” 

“No.”

Say yes. Please say yes to this.

“Is it perhaps our guest that’s currently residing with us?” 

“Mother, please, drop it!!!” 

Anybody in their right mind would try to come up with enabling scenarios, but knowing her own son, Hyejin found inspiration someplace else.

Apples.

One time when Chris was little, he became so sick that he was strictly ordered to consume fluids, yet all he kept yelling about was his beloved bunny apples. Just once. He was getting better already so once wouldn’t hurt. Could he pretty please get just one piece with a cherry on top?

“Doctor’s orders, Chrissy. I’ll bring you your apples when they say you can eat them, okay?”

He couldn’t even last one day. Chris sneaked into the kitchen after his mom fell asleep just so he could sink his teeth into a yellow apple, and alerted the entire floor with the ruckus he caused in the meantime.

“Baby, why are you being so stubborn? You can’t eat them yet!”

Why the goddamn apples? Should she have been worried? Was this an indication of something lacking in his body? Or did he just simply have a sweet tooth?

“But they comfort me,” her boy had told her with his huge guilty eyes.

You and Chris were a little too alike, and she hoped from the bottom of her heart that it also held true when it came to a certain disregard for the rules. Especially if it included taking away something you really really wanted to have.

You are not to see him again after that and you will not divulge this information to him.

Once upon a time, a king wasn’t able to stop her from falling crazily in love with a man. This was just a test to confirm her hypothesis that not even a queen could come between you two, not that she had any intention to.

Anything you can do, I can do better.

Sibling rivalry was such a commonplace thing. You went through it even if you were two kids in line for the throne, or going to school hand in hand pretending to be civilians. It could be due to many reasons—because you wanted to be liked better; because you wanted to establish dominance over the other; because some friendly competition could be a motivation to do more, achieve more. If one kept losing to the other, on the other hand, it could turn into something ugly.

Jealousy. Resentment. Grudge.

Chris and Hyunjin did not really have the said rivalry between them per se. Every time one of them fell, the other was there. Covered up for each other whenever they could because they had each other and they would never leave one another. That was the one thing carved into their minds as they were growing up.

I love you both just the same.

Yeah right.

For some inexplicable reason, deep down Hyunjin knew their mother had a massive soft spot for his older brother. She had a favorite. Chris always got away with things with much fewer consequences than Hyunjin did. If and when he was scolded, it wasn’t as angry. When he was grounded, it was for a shorter period of time. Occasionally, she was more formal with Hyunjin. More distant. Less affectionate. The double standard frequently made him think about whether he was adopted or not. 

He watched himself shut down after they were informed of the sentence they both had to serve because of Chris. Until their adult ceremonies. A couple of years was not that big of a deal, but when you started counting down the days, they indeed felt neverending. It indeed felt like someone was playing an annoying prank on him by erasing some of the crosses he had already put on his calendar. The time just wouldn’t pass. 

Maybe he needed to make the most of it if it wasn't going to pass. Rumor had it that time went by quicker if you were having fun, but the aforementioned fun just could not be induced by simple stuff anymore, could they?

It had to be derived from the most outrageous things possible because fuck a double standard.

Hyunjin had established somewhat of a routine until you came along. When he laid his eyes on you, he initially thought you could have some fun together, but he most certainly did not plan on catching inadvertent feelings towards you. He couldn’t figure out what exactly those feelings were—he just knew it was a couple of shades different than what he experienced when he borrowed a night from a stranger. And it was growing stronger.

I can do anything better than you.

It would have been fine maybe. It would have been fine if it was someone else other than the person who kept reminding him he was always going to be the second best. The second choice. The second rate. His mother was supposed to summon him any day now to discuss what he’d like for his own adult ceremony, and when Hyunjin witnessed how you and Chris fucking devoured each other in your bed that he was never once invited to, he just felt…

Let's just say inspired.

“You know me, mother. I’d like to pay respects to our roots.”

“There is such profound beauty in the classical indeed, isn’t there?”

Why of course. The guillotine was also such a classic, wasn’t it? Everybody knew what it was.

“There’s something else I’d like to talk to you about,” Hyunjin placed his china cup delicately on the saucer and assumed a semi-serious expression, “I need your word that you’re not going to consult to reprimands after what I’m about to divulge to you. It’s about Chris.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Your word. You’re not gonna punish him.” 

Is this… Is this what I think it is?

“Very well. You have my word.”

“Actually, it is more than okay,” he smiled at his mother, “You’re familiar with our resident guest, right?”

“Yes?”

“I have reason to believe she and Chris are really suitable for each other.”

Words were simply not enough to describe the satisfaction that came from this declaration. Hyejin was right. She was right all along. It took a substantial amount of willpower not to crack and smile back at him.

“How so?”

She goddamn knew how so. Chris thought he was being all slick, but Hyejin heard it on the grapevine that you two might have been running off into the night recently.

“Just a gut feeling,” Hyunjin responded calmly.

Because I know they’re fucking each other, mother.

“Are you saying they are involved?”

“You could say that.”

Hyejin couldn’t believe it. Call it fate, a self-fulfilling prophecy, or a simple coincidence, but what she had been claiming for years indeed came true. She had a hunch you two were up to something, but Hyunjin basically confirmed it for her. You and Chris had passed her unnecessarily complex test.

“I’d like her to escort Chris during my adult ceremony.”

Hyejin furrowed her brows in confusion at her son’s very unusual request, “Well, that’s highly irregular. Escort duties are not for the guests.”

“I know, but don’t you think this is a great opportunity to test drive a public debut?”

It indeed would be. It could be a reason to open the gates of the grounds again. It could be the reason happiness could rush through these stone corridors again. She agreed.

“Don’t tell him that, though. I want it to be a surprise,” Hyunjin appealed to his mother one last time before he left, “He’s been through enough, mother. Give him this.”

Now we’re even.

Two birds with one stone: a cold dish of revenge and a gift for himself. Just like how he took away Hyunjin’s one chance at happiness because he couldn’t help himself, he was going to take away his brother’s, too, and it had to be during his adult ceremony. It had to be a very bitter reminder of a night that was supposed to be a celebration, and it had to turn into a post-apocalyptic wasteland afterwards. Chris obviously wasn’t going to still want you after learning the truth. He wasn’t like Hyunjin—he didn’t know how to swallow his pride. It could take some effort on Hyunjin’s part to convince you why you belonged with him, but you would eventually come around. Everybody eventually came around.

He would know what a gigantic presumption that was if he exerted some effort to get to know you just a little bit instead of your body.

Hyujin couldn’t really calculate how much his attempt would backfire and push you to make the decision to leave the estate instead. He waited and waited and waited for some retaliation, but all he got in return was a whole lot of nothing. Watching his brother turn a little more sullen every day, descending into the fatal depths of melancholy revealed a dusty film at the back of his mind. 

Every time Hyunjin fell, Chris was there. Covered up for him whenever he could because they had each other and they would never leave one another. That was the one thing carved into their minds as they were growing up.

What Hyunjin had for you seemed way different than what Chris had. Maybe he had indeed confused his feelings for you with something else. Maybe there was a reason why he felt so inferior to his older brother. All Hyunjin knew was lust, yet Chris seemed to know better. He couldn’t help but think about what would change if you were gone from his life for good versus his brother’s. He thought about it for a long time.

It took some guts to finally admit it, but maybe you were Chris’ fire girl. Every once in a while she would pop into Hyunjin’s mind again, and his heart would ache. So much But that was in the past. If she knew what he had turned into, she would hate him.

The brothers had talked about being free for so long. They had dreamed about it. When Hyunjin was imprisoned, doing scandalous things was just his way of throwing a fit. So that he would be told he was not worthy. So that he would be let go. But then you appeared. You made his sentence bearable. Gave him a taste of something he had been missing for quite some time. Something that tasted very much like a piece of glazed cake.

Hyunjin was so consumed with vengeance vision that it caused him to lose perspective of a lot of things, which ended up scarring the one person he deep down cared about in this world. He couldn’t control himself for one night much like his brother, but then again, Chris would never come up with intricate plans to purposefully hurt him. He had just fallen a victim to his emotions some years ago.

Freedom. What a valuable thing. Yet no amount of money in this world was enough to have it. 

If you were willing to pay the price on the other hand…

Cut the cord.

He knew what he had to do to put an end to all this. He had to pull one last number. 

Even if it cost him his brother.

“Hello, brother. Going somewhere?”

Chris heard the door close and the lock being turned behind him. His eyes had turned into flamethrowers threatening to burn the entire place down out of sheer fury.

“We had each other, huh? We were supposed to never leave one another.”

“Yet you were about to,” Hyunjin disapprovingly tsked, “Here I am clinging to my older brother not to leave me. I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Christopher the Great,” Hyunjin deliberately raised his voice and then segued to a diminuendo, “Loved by everyone. His subjects. His friends. His mother. Even by the one woman his little brother has fallen for.”

“What would you even know about love, Hyun?”

“Not to mention, she’s not even pure blood,” he contorted his face like he was reciting ridiculous facts, “What were you even thinking?”

“What were you thinking?”

“I’m afraid if I can’t have her, no one can.”

“ENOUGH!!!” 

The brothers were so engrossed in getting on each other’s nerves that they didn’t even hear the door open. Hyejin walked into her chambers with her eyes moist due to an alloy of rage and sorrow. She stopped right in front of her older son and declared with all the seriousness that ruled her being.

“You have my blessing if you accept to be the next in line, Christopher.

Chris froze in his place. So did Hyunjin, but for entirely different reasons. 

You’re going to ruin this, mother. 

“Just… Don’t go,” Hyejin’s voice trembled while squeezing her son's arms.

If she gave him the one thing he wanted, he would stay. He would stay forever and he would be happy. He could be happy here. There was absolutely no reason to leave.

“Please,” she begged as the tears ran down her face. Meanwhile, Hyunjin was drilling a hole in Chris’ face with his eyes.

Go. Don’t fall for it. At least one of us is capable of being decent and that’s not me.

When Chris finally made eye contact with his brother, he noticed something. His composure was still intact, but he was looking at him with almost pleading eyes. Like he was asking him to read between the lines. To get the message. 

He remembered this exact look from somewhere. 

High school sophomore year. Hyunjin knew Chris and his bandmates had been planning to break into the gym on a Friday after school and spend the night there. No matter how much he had begged his brother not to do it, Chris just turned a deaf ear to him.

“You’re too uptight, Hyun. You really need to loosen up a little. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Something’s going to happen. Don’t go.”

“I’m being very careful. Mom and dad think we’ll be at practice for the upcoming competition. We’re not gonna get busted.”

“Not everything is about that, for fuck’s sake. You’re gonna get hurt!”

“Stop being paranoid, Hyun.”

Stubborn. He was just so fucking stubborn. He wouldn’t listen to him ever. Chris was furious to no end when Hyunjin appeared next to their homeroom teacher like he wanted to make it clear he was the one snitching on his brother stealing the gym keys. They had exchanged this exact same look that day when Chris received detention. Little did he know all Hyunjin was trying to do was to prevent his brother from getting beaten up to a pulp because ‘the drummer dude needed to be in bad shape’ to pass on the competition. The invasion of their gym by the delinquents of the neighboring high school was the talk of everyone for the following week.

Please, Chris. Do it for us. Leave. Be free. For good.

Chris’ eyes darted from Hyunjin to his mother and he almost spat the words.

“This throne and everything that reminds me of it can kindly go to goddamn hell, your highness.”

One day they could talk about it maybe. One day Chris would understand Hyunjin’s intentions behind what he did.

But today was not that day.

Chris and his mother’s deal was carved in stone: he had to prove himself if he wanted to be ‘ordinary’. Even if it killed her inside, she agreed to watch her older son forfeit everything and walk away from this life. Sending off a loved one into oblivion and not knowing if they would ever come back was a familiar feeling for Hyejin. She had done it once before. About two decades ago to be precise.

“You asked for me, mother?”

“Yes.”

Hyejin had called Hyunjin for their ritual Sunday tea. They would usually spend their mornings having a long and calm breakfast, talking about benign things as if they weren’t tiptoeing around much deeper stuff and being sarcastic with each other. That particular Sunday, she didn’t feel the need to observe the formalities and cut straight to the chase.

“Why did you do it?”

He also knew there was no point in trying to drag some things anymore. He took a long sip from his tea, eyes still on his mother’s, and calmly responded.

“If I didn’t give him a reason to leave for good, you were going to lure him back here again. Next thing you know, he can’t leave the grounds because he fucking breathed.” 

“That kind of language is highly redundant, Hyunjin.”

“I know how your mind works. You can deny it all you want, but I take after you, your highness,” he irritably smiled, “It’s okay if he hates me for the rest of his life, but I know it’s gonna kill you.”

“So you want to hurt me that much,” she reciprocated his smile with moist eyes.

“Somebody needed to remind you of the taste of your own medicine. You seem to have forgotten it.”

Hyejin looked at her son and heaved a tired sigh. There was nothing but bitterness and animosity radiating from him, but it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t even his father’s fault—he hadn’t touched Hyunjin’s soul one bit. Whatever he had turned into, whatever he harbored inside him was the responsibility of only one person, and that was her.

“With Christopher gone, I need to name an heir. That means you’re going to be—”

“No.”

No? What did he mean no? She was offering him unlimited power to do whatever he pleased, what else was he asking for?

“Isn’t this what you’ve wanted all along?”

Hyunjin looked at her with an expression that almost spelled disdain.

“That’s really what you thought I wanted? A life sentence?” he questioned, somewhat nauseated, “I just wanted to be me, mother. I didn’t feel like taking you up on your challenge is all.”

“You do realize someone has to—”

“If you want this prison to remain intact, I suggest broadening your filters for an heir. Someone from the royal council would be nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leaned into the white iron table and clasped his hands on it as the Sunday morning breeze brushed his hair.

“It means the second you announce my coronation and blast me to the public, I’m going to indulge in the most abominable things this reign has ever seen and force this entire lineage to fall from grace. Horrendously,” he tilted his head and posed his tranquil threat, “You’re welcome to try me.”

Hyejin was feeling the walls closing in on her, literally watching her other son also slipping away from her with every word he uttered. She felt tired. She felt defeated. She felt like she was coming back from war and she had no life left within herself anymore. Maybe that was why she wasn’t as quick with her retorts as she used to be.

“You held us captive here for years because of what? The man wanted to kiss someone.” 

“It’s not as easy as that, Hyunjin.”

“Nothing absolves what we’ve been through, mother.”

“Oh, is that so? Were you struggling while having the time of your life with your little playthings?”

Hyunjin’s face turned a couple of shades lighter at first for he was caught off guard, but it quickly returned to its original state.

“You knew, didn’t you? You knew what I was doing all this time,” he squinted his eyes, “Why did you let me get away with it?”

She was a queen. She was one of the strongest queens this country had ever seen. She was beauty. She was grace. She was the living epitome of what royalty should have looked and acted like.

But at the end of the day, she was still a mother.

“I can’t stand anything about this place,” Hyejin’s voice completely cracked, “I just couldn’t bear the thought of my sons leaving me to rot in this hell forever.”

“Even though you hated me?”

“I don’t hate you, Hyunjin.”

“But you don’t love me either, mother.”

“That’s not true,” she immediately replied and gestured the place next to her on the swing, “Come here.”

When Hyunjin sat down beside her, she pulled him close and laid his head down on her lap, which took him by surprise. She hadn’t done this in forever. It was such a distant memory that Hyunjin wasn’t sure whether he just saw it in a dream or not.

“There was one person I hated from the bottom of my soul, but it’s not you. It’s never been you,” she kept caressing his golden hair like she did when he was a kid, “But I acknowledge that it wasn’t fair to you that I projected it all on you. You remind me so much of him.”

“Father?” he looked up at her. She nodded in response.

“But you are you. Instead of using your beautiful face as a placeholder, I should have learned to make my peace with things,” she choked back her sobs, “I apologize.”

Hyunjin was temporarily teleported to the weekend mornings of his childhood. The frame in front of his eyes had a sepia filter. His mother looked younger. Happier. Lively. And she was kissing his hair.

You’re not my son. You’re my sun. You’re the most beautiful thing ever.

As if she was able to see what he was seeing with every stroke on her boy’s head, Hyejin softly uttered.

“You’re never going to stop being my sun. Ever.”

“Even though I’m broken beyond repair?”

“So what?”

He felt some wetness on his face like it started to rain all of a sudden. Hyejin was crying. So was Hyunjin. He slowly sat up and pulled his mother into his embrace. Maybe for the first time even.

“Do you want to be you?” she caressed her boy’s face as porcelain as hers, “Be you, sunshine. Be you away from here. You don’t deserve these chains, either. Nobody does.”

What a failure that this beautiful man felt like he had to do what he had to do because of her. What a catastrophe that she wasn’t able to save her son from himself when she could. What an absolute tragedy that she let herself be so haunted by the ghosts of her past that she wasn’t able to hear her sunshine’s cries for help, not until after his voice was completely gone.

“Just please don’t hate me anymore,” Hyejin let all the sobs she had been choking finally run free.

“Mom.”

Hyunjin placed a kiss on his mother’s forehead. Definitely for the first time. Yoongi had never kissed her forehead once. Maybe he wasn’t completely his father’s son after all.

“I don’t hate you. I just…” he tried his utmost best to avoid any landmines that could hurt her for once, “It’s just not fair that we were born into this.”

No, it wasn’t. None of this was fair. For anyone. If only she had the power to turn back time and do it all over again… She wouldn’t be able to promise to be mistake-free, but she would at least live to make her treasures happy the second time around.

“Don’t you ever want to be normal?”

“It doesn’t come with this job, sunshine,” Hyejin smiled through her tears, “It’s going to hurt so much at first, but I’ll be fine knowing my boys are happy somewhere. I will survive.”

“Or not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she creased her brows in confusion.

“Didn’t you ever wish to be free?” he insisted, “Didn’t you ever wish to just be?”

“I wish I could, baby,” Hyejin squeezed his warm hands, “I really wish I could.”

“What if you can?”

Only Hyunjin would think of a solution as insane as this. Only he would propose to be reborn from their ashes in the pursuit of happiness. His tone was as nonchalant as it could ever be as if he was only suggesting an evening stroll.

“You do realize we have the means to fake our deaths, right?”

«TO BE CONTINUED»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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See you in the series finale, fellas. I'm emotionally drained.

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-R. (CB97%)

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Tattoos and sex

→ PAIRING: Bang Chan x fem!reader

→ GENRE: idol!au | mua!au | fluff | smut — MDNI!

→ SYNOPSIS: Being the only MUA that can cover up chan's intimate tattoo, one thing led to another, however, the fun didnt stop there.

→ WARNINGS: explicate sexual content | she/her pronouns | make-up artist reader | smut | established relationship | unprotected sex | public oral sex (M) | oral sex (F) | sloppy bj | pet names (pup, little one, etc) | throat fucking | cum swallowing | cum sharing | nipple and breast play | face sitting | face grinding | clit play | fingering | squirting | oversensitivity | breeding kink | creampie | sub-space | use of the words 'sir' and slut'

→ WORDS: 7k ~ (7097)

→ requested by: 💀👑 | requests are currently: closed!

Feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

→ m.list — → you can also read it on my ao3

Clutching the red plastic tray, you walk up the array of food. It's lunch time which means you're on a break. The canteen is slowly but surely filling up with numerous people and idols - some you recognise and some you don't.

Salads, dressing, meats, tofu, the selection of food is overwhelming but also good considering the cooks cater to everyone and everything.

You settle on piling your plate up with something small and light, noticing that you're not terribly hungry but need something to eat to carry on functioning these last hours of your shift. You grab the utensils and a small, ice cold bottle of water before taking a seat.

You look around as you munch on your food, idols sitting with their group members, managers sitting with other managers. Words buzzing around the hall, idle chit-chat here and there.

You rub your shoulder, giving yourself a massage to relieve yourself of this harsh knot you didn't know you had until now - until you had time to relax.

“Need a hand, pup?” A soft voice behind you, tray plated high with food situating beside you.

“Mhm. If you're offering.” You hum.

“Anything for my darling.” You flush pink, feeling strong hands on your shoulders, fingers digging deep in the muscle to relieve you of your pain.

“You two are so sickeningly sweet.” You laugh, watching Changbin sit opposite you. His tray stacked with a variety of meats and salad, protein shake to accommodate.

“Are you exercising after?” You nod your head at the shake. Changbin nods.

“Planning to. That's if we have enough time.”

“Y'all busy?” 

“You could say that.” You hum as a response, feeling yourself relax.

“Better pup?” Chan asks softly, rubbing your shoulders.

“Mhm, much." You smile softly at him, watching him sit beside you.

“I can do a more in depth massage once we're home, if you get what I mean.” Chan smirks, wiggling his brows seductively. You slap his tattooed bicep gently, flushing pink.

“I take back what I said about you two being sweet.” Changbin pulls a face, causing you to laugh softly. 

“Sorry Binnie.” He laughs, waving his hand as if to say ‘It's whatever’ “How's the new tattoo healing up?”

Changbin looks at his fresh tattoo, a simple design of a tattooed dweakki on his arm, surrounded by various other tattoos scattered here and there.

“It's healing at least. Takes time, y'know.” You hum as a response, munching on your food. Chan's hand rests on your thigh, occasionally stroking it.

“How did Jisung manage with the compass tat?” Changbin and Chan both give each other knowing looks, before laughing softly.

“He urm, complained a lot.” Chan laughs softly.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I think where it's placed, it hurt twice as much for him.”

“We did try and tell him it would hurt, but did he listen? Nope.” Chan sighs, shaking his head before letting out a small chuckle.

“When does Sungie ever listen?” You pip in, raising a brow.

“True.” Changbin says with a mouthful of food. “You do have to tell him several times to do the simplest of things.”

Chan nods his head and hums, agreeing with Changbin. His hand squeezes your thigh softly, making you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hand is warm, soft yet coarse. 

The hands of a working man.

“You can't deny though.” You begin, swallowing your food, “He does make some good music. Lyrically, he is a genius.”

“Ya think?” Chan puts down his utensils, attention all on you. You nod, looking at him.

“Yes. You could say I have a few favourite songs that happen to be Sungies.”  

“You mean, I'm not just your number one fave?! You have more?!” Chan pouts, hand over his heart as he sniffs. You roll your eyes, taking his hand in yours. You play with his tattooed fingers, slowly tracing the small patterns of hearts, diamonds and words.

A few of his nails coated in black polish, the remaining bare with a simple black design that he drew himself. His ring finger holding a promise ring you gave him months ago.

“You'll always be my favourite, Channie. You know that.” You pout, preoccupied with his hands.

“Mhm.” He hums, watching you trace the patterns. He gently intertwined his fingers with yours, your hands looking tiny beside his. You blush, looking up at him to see his eyes sparkling and laced with love and admiration for you.

“My beautiful pup.” He hums, cupping your chin gently. You flush pink watching the space between you both lessen as Chan leans in.

You close your eyes and pucker your awaiting lips. Just as Chan becomes close to pressing his plump lips against yours, you both get interrupted by Jisung.

“Ew! Can't you guys do that elsewhere?! I'd like to keep my lunch in my stomach, thank you very much.”

“Cockblock.” You mumble loud enough for Chan to hear. He chuckles and nudges your side with his elbow, winking at you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Y/N! Do you have some concealer?”

“Y/N, I need a blush brush, I don't know where mine is! ”

“Y/N, what lipstick shade are we doing?”

You take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. You took the liberty of hiding in the bathroom, needing a few minutes. You didn't think you could get sick of hearing your name – yet here you are.

“I'm seriously considering changing my name.” You mumble to yourself, pulling your phone out of your pocket.

Your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, hair scrapped in an unkempt messy bun. A strap around your waist with a pocket full of your makeup tools.

“Three forty.” You sigh. “I still have several hours left until this hectic shift is over.”

It's the biggest con of the year – kcon. People travel from all over the world just to see their favourite group/idol perform. You love kcon, however, being a make-up artist and the head in charge, it's a stressful day.

Deciding that you have been hiding for long enough, you push yourself up to your feet and walk out, preparing yourself for another game of “Where's this?” and “Where's that?”

You walk up to the idol who's make-up you were currently doing before you had to excuse yourself. Maintaining your professionalism, you smile politely as you take out your tools.

“So sorry for leaving you like this! Now, where were we?” The idol politely smiles at you, claiming that they understand. They even teased you, saying they would keep your ‘absence’ a secret. You both laugh and joke, make small talk about this and that.

Your colleagues continue to ask you twenty questions, that distinct pinch slowly returning between your brows.

“Just a few more hours. You can do this, y/n!” you tell yourself, taking slow, deep breaths. You resume your task of covering up the idols tattoos that situate on his arm. You, plus one other MUA, are the only two who are qualified enough to do tattoo cover ups as well as the typical makeup.

As you apply the final touches, a colleague knocks on the door before walking in.

“Ah! There you are, y/n!” You stand up straight, gently putting your brushes down as you look at your colleague.

“Oh, hi! What's up?”

“Uh, well–” They start. You tilt your head to the side, watching their cheeks flush pink. They shift on their feet, hands clasped together.

It felt… Awkward.

“You know that you and Chan are together.” You hum.

“Yes, have been for a couple of years now.” 

“Uh, yeah! So uh, you know how I do skz make up and you do others even though you want to do skz.”

“Mhm.”

“And you know how Chan has that crazy tattoo that travels to his – uh… area.” You giggle softly to yourself, humming.

“I do indeed, darling.”

“Well, uh. His stage outfits is crop tops and well, his tattoos need covering and–”

“And you don't feel comfortable covering it so need me to?” You interrupted, voice soft and understanding.

“Yeah. I don't feel comfortable covering up someone else's boyfriend's intimate tattoo.”

“I totally understand! Just give me a second to grab some extra things and I'll be over in about ten minutes.” Your colleague grins, thanking you before dashing out.

You collect fresh, new tools before quickly explaining to a colleague that you will next door is they need anything - which you hope they don't 

You walk out of the room, knocking on the next door before walking inside. Compared to the room your currently working in, skz's dressing room is much more calmer.

“Oh, hey y/n!” Felix walks out topless. His arms decorated in various small tattoos, the same compass laying dormant on his neck. His hair dyed black, the hair stylist giving Felix bangs that are long enough to cover his eyes. He munches on some bread, his lips turning upwards in a big grin.

“Hey Lixie!! Looking good as always.” You wink, noticing how defined his body looks.

“Oh please! This is nothing.” Felix blushes softly, brushing off your compliment. “You, however, look stunning!”

You raise a brow as you look in the mirror then back at Felix.

“I appreciate you being polite Felix, but uh, I've looked better.” You scoff. Felix rolls his eyes, chewing the last of his bread. You lick your lips, stomach growling. 

You've been so busy, you haven't realised how hungry you are until now.

“Are you hungry?” Felix asks, frowning. You nod slowly. “Come, I'll bring you to our little snack tray. Take something.”

“Oh, you really don't have t–”

“Shut up, y/n and take something.” Felix laughs heartily, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the snack tray.

Bags of fruits and nuts, bread, crisps, sweets and chocolate. You look around, struggling to pick. As you reach out to pick the last bread, a tattooed hand comes into view, snatching it away. 

A hand you all know too well.

“Chan!!” You whine, pouting. He laughs softly, opening up the packet and taking a bite out of the bread. You glare at him, failing to notice that he's in nothing but his stage pants and shoes. His hair straight, make-up to perfection. A wolf sleeve on one arm, various shapes and pictures on the other – his ‘memorial arm’ he likes to call it purely because it's decorated in things that remind him of the things and people he loves the most.

The side of Chan's body is decorated in various flowers, leaves and your favourite bird, trailing down his V lines to his intimate area. This tattoo is his most precious and valued tattoo because it reminds him of you. It's your favourite flowers and your favourite bird. With Chan being an idol, he is away most of the time, meaning you two get to spend little to no time together.

He got the tattoo on a whim. Promotions finished, it's holiday season and you both finally got to spend time together. The day he got the tattoo, he lied to you in the sense of him claiming he had ‘errands’ to run, and by ‘errands’, he meant getting the tattoo.

You were shocked when you saw it, but overwhelmed that Chan would do something like this for someone like you. He said he had been planning the tattoo for a long time, designing it and putting it together piece by piece. When you asked him why he got it so big, he replied in his typical, cheeky way;

“Because you own me.”

“There's plenty more food in the tray, pup!” You scowl at him, eyes turning into thin slits. Your gaze could burn holes into him right now. He smirks, teasingly taking a bite out of the bread, the very bread you wanted.

“But I wanted that!!” You point to it. Chan looks at it, then at you and gasps. 

“Really? Oh no!” 

“Chan!!!” You whine, becoming close to tears. You go to snatch the bread out of his hand, failing when he puts it out of reach in the form of him raising his hand up high.

“Now you're being an asshole.” You mumble.

“Yeah, c'mon hyung. Don't be a dick.” Seungmin laughs, clearly enjoying the show.

“Not being a dick, but she can have it if she begs.” Chan smirks. You flush pink, swallowing thickly.

“H-Have what?” 

“You know–” Chan leans in, his hot breath fanning against the shell of your ear. Your heart thumps against your chest, threatening to burst free. “The bread.”

You whine, slapping his bare pec as he laughs.

“You're an asshole, Bang Chan!” 

“Ohh! She used your full name, Hyung. You're in trouble.” Minho pipes in.

“Oh please, lino. My lil pup couldn't punish me if she tries. I know all the places that make her squirm and wiggle beneath me. She'll succumb to me in less than 5 minutes.” 

Your mouth hangs open, rapid blinking at your words gets lodged in your throat. A cocky smirk plastered on Chan's face as he takes a bite out of the long forgotten bread.

“Pft. Cat got your tongue, y/n?” Minho laughs.

“I–” You stutter.

“I rest my case.” Chan says in a sing-song voice, winking at you. With your words still lodged in your throat, brain failing to come to terms, you settle on slapping Chan's bare pec once again.

“Ouch!” Chan pouts, rubbing the spot where you slapped. 

“Fuck you.” You mumble, glaring at him.

“You wish.” 

“Chan!!” You whine, groaning and kicking your head back. “Stop!! I came here to cover up your tattoo, not to be teased.”

“Right right. But you love it, pup.” 

“You're such a menace.” You whine. Chan winks, humming in acknowledgement. He finishes the bread, licking his lips in a teasing way.

“That was delicious!” Chan rubs his stomach, acting like he's just had the best meal in the world.

“Just you wait, Chan. Just you wait.” You frown, making Chan laugh softly.

“I'm sorry pup. Am I teasing you too much?” Chan coos, stroking your cheek gently. You hum as a response. “Want me to make it up to you? Show you how sorry I am?”

“Later. I'm still on the clock and you, Mr, need that tattoo covering.” You gesture towards his tattoo, to which Chan sighs and rolls his eyes at.

“I don't understand why I have to cover it.” He mumbles, walking to a separate room to allow you both more privacy. You follow him, laughing softly.

“You knew this when you got it, babe.”

“Mhm. If the stylists just didn't put me in crop tops 24/7, then I wouldn't have to have it covered.” Chan walks into the room, you following behind. You close the door, locking it purely for the purpose of saving yourself and the unfortunate soul who decides to walk in, some embarrassment. 

“I don't mind.” You mumble. “Just means I get to see your well defined body.” You wink, trailing your hand slowly down his chest and abs.

Now it's his turn to blush. His soft, milky skin turning a rose colour, breath hitching in his throat as he watches your hand.

“Pup…” He mumbles.

“Mhm?” You cock an eyebrow, finger hooking on the belt loop of his stage pants. You tug at them indicating you want off.

“You need to either lower or remove these Chan so I can cover up your tat.” Chan groans, rolling his eyes as he unbuttons and unzips his pants.

He drops them half way down to his thighs, pulling his boxer shorts low enough for his full tattoo to show. You hum in contentment, kneeling down as you grab your concealing kit.

Kneeling to the ground, you become eye level with his penis. You swallow, ignoring how you can imagine his length and size just from the bulge. “Act professional y/n. you're still on the job!” 

His boxer shorts are low enough that his v lines are visible, some of his perfectly trimmed pubic hair peeking out from the waistband. You load up a brush with some concealer, carefully dabbing it on his tattoo. You soon become fixated on getting your job done, lips parting due to concentrating.

Chan watches you, watches you do your magic. He's impressed and proud of you for being able to do something like this. His heart swells with love and admiration for you, a warm smile pulling up on the corner of his lips. 

The bristles of the brush tickle him slightly, goose bumps rising to the surface of his skin as you dab and swipe the brush. You place a hand on his muscular thigh, your lips staying parted.

Chan's bottom lip gets caught in between his teeth. He can feel your hot breath fanning against the material of his boxer shorts, hitting his cock. He squirms a little to which you frown at.

“Channie, stay still.” You pout.

“Sorry…” He whispers. Minutes went by painfully slowly. Chan has to think of things that turn him off in order to stop his blood from flowing down south - but to no avail.

The longer time went on, the more he thought. He checks out the position you're in, swallowing as his mind taking him back to all those times he's fucked your cute little face raw, hands planted firmly on his thighs, tears spilling down your cheeks slowly becoming mixed with the cascade of drool. 

Your eyes telling him, begging him to continue, to have his way with you.

“Chan…” You whisper. Your voice brings him out of his train of thought. Then, did he realise that you had stopped what you were doing, hand hovering in the air.

“What's up pup? Why did you stop?”

“Uh, C-Chan, you're –” You place your brush down, swallowing thickly, eyes fixated.

Instead of acting all embarrassed and shy about it, he smirks, cupping his own erection and squeezing. You let out a small whimper, pressing your lips together in a thin line. You feel your core throb, lust and excitement pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

“Like what you see, pup?” Chan groans, his tendons visible as he rubs and squeezes his own cock.

“Y-Yes.” You whisper, watching the way his hands move, listening to every soft groan and grunt fall past his lips. 

“Want a taste?” He purrs. You swallow thickly feeling like you're under some sort of spell just from those three words.

“Yes.” You shakily whisper. He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer shorts, pulling them down and letting them rest halfway down his thighs.

Your heart beats against your ribcage hard, your wetness coating the material of your panties. His hard cock springs free before standing proud in front of your face. 

You gently blow on it, causing it to twitch. You giggle, watching his pre-cum slowly trail down his length.

You wrap your hand around the base, fingers barely making it all the way around due to his thickness. Chan grunts, loving how small your hands look around him. You look up at him with lust filled eyes, tongue darting out to moisten your lips.

“Can't have you going out on stage like this, can we?” You purr as you slowly pump his length. Chan hums softly, tilting his head to the side as he watches.

“What are you going to do about it, pup?” 

“Whatever you want.” You press your tongue flat against his tip, swiping some of his pre-cum onto your tongue. Chan grunts, hips bucking at the contact. You giggle at his reaction, settling on giving kitten licks on his cockhead.

You pump him at a reasonable pace, soft hums and grunts from the man standing before you cause goose bumps to rise on the surface of your skin. His skin is hot to the touch, his veins protruding along the sides of his length.

“C'mon pup. I know you can do better than that.” Chan hums, his thumb stroking your cheek. You look up at him through your lashes as you wrap your lips around his cockhead. Chan let's out a throaty grunt, your tongue swirling along his cockhead before giving him soft sucks.

With each grunt and moan, it encourages you more and more. You push your head further down, trapping more of his length inside your warm and wet mouth. You hum, closing your eyes as you manage to stuff half his length in your mouth.

Due to his thickness, the corners of your mouth burn and sting from the stretch. You focus on sucking Chan the way he likes it, the way that makes him moan like a whore. You pump what your mouth fails to reach, your saliva coating his length well.

You pull away for a split second, gathering some saliva in your mouth before spitting on his cock. You pump him fast, using your saliva as lube before reinserting his cock back into your mouth.

“F-Fuck pup. You suck cock so well.” Chan grunts, his toes curling inside his shoes. He reaches down, holding the side of your head still.

You know what this means.

You still your movements, hands placing on his thighs as he pushes his cock further into your mouth. You close your eyes tightly, feeling the ability to breath becoming a struggle, your gag reflex activating due to his cock reaching down your throat.

“Just take it like the good girl you are.” Chan purrs, watching his cock slowly disappearing down your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks, gag reflex activating several times making saliva accumulate and pool in your mouth.

The tip of your nose hits his pubic area, a hum of contentment coming from Chan as he grips the side of your head

“Let me use you pup. Let me use you for my own satisfaction and I promise, I will treat you like a queen later on.”

You whimper the best you could, thighs rubbing together for some sort of friction. Your panties are soaked with your juices by now, your body hot and sweaty as lust and hormones fill the air around you.

Chan slowly and cautiously thrusts his hips, careful not to hurt you at first and to test the waters. You dig your nails into his thighs, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. Chan shivers, growling as he becomes fixated on your face.

“Such a pretty sight.” His hips pick up in speed and power, his cock rubbing your mouth and throat in a delicious way. Drool bubbles from the corners of your mouth, spilling down your chin as your tears fall down your cheek, mixing together with your drool.

“Shit.” Chan grunts, his movements becoming faster and powerful. You swallow in an attempt to swallow the sea of saliva. You fail, deciding on letting it just spill. As you swallow, your throat clenches around Chan, squeezing his length in a delicious way.

Your throat starts to feel sore from the continuous abuse from his length, jaw feeling slack and knees sore, however, you don't mind. You love this, love being used by Chan. It excites you to no end knowing that you're the reason Chan is losing all sense of self.

His cock twitches, pleasure rushing through his body and veins. He kicks his head back, panting and moaning as he fucks your face raw. You slowly start to feel dizzy with lust, desperation kicking in.

Chan's cock twitches, a peripheral of curses and moans leave his lips as he struggles to maintain his composure. The knot in the pit of his stomach tightening with each thrust.

“I'm going to cum down your throat and you are going to swallow every last drop.” Chan growls, looking down at your tear and drool stained face. Your lashes flutter, a soft whine emitting from your stuffed mouth.

“That's my girl.” His body tingles, balls becoming tighter with each thrust, cock twitching endlessly. You help him reach his orgasm by swallowing him, as well as wrapping your tongue around his cock before flattening it to allow him to reach further - if that's even possible at this point 

“Fuck fuck fuck!” Chan pants erratically. Your eyes squeeze shut as he halts his movements. You feel his cock twitch, hot ropes of cum shooting down your throat. You swallow some of it as Chan pulls his cock out of your mouth.

You look up at him, giggling and opening your mouth wide to reveal the leftover cum you purposefully failed to swallow. Chan grunt as he kneels down. He shoves his tongue into your mouth making you whimper against his lips.

Your tongues collide as Chan collects your saliva and his cum on his own tongue, tasting the salty taste of himself. He pulls away, a smug look on his face as he looks down at your dazed and stained face.

“For being such a good girl, I'm going to treat you real good later.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“C-Chan, wait.” You whimper. 

“No.” He simply replies. He picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, walking to the bedroom where he throws you on the mattress.

You softly grunt, leaning up on your elbows as Chan kneels between your legs. His eyes dark with lust, hands shaking as adrenaline and hormones pump through his veins.

Animalist growls erupt from his throat as he grabs your work shirt. He rips it open, the button popping and flying across the room.

“C-Chan.” You whisper, swallowing thickly as he grabs your breast firmly in his hand from over your bra.

“Since the blowjob, I haven't stopped thinking about you. That perfect mouth of yours, your cute adorable moans. Do you know how much willpower it took for me to not get hard, to calm myself down?!”

You cheekily grin, fluttering your lashes innocently. “But Chan, you wanted me to suck your cock. Did I look pretty for you? With your cock between my lips?”

He shivers, squeezing your breast roughly. “Don't test me, pup. I'm already hungry for you.” He leans in close, breath fanning against the shell of your ear. “And the night is still young.”

You shiver, allowing him to take off your shirt. His lips attack the skin of your neck, teeth sinking and nipping at the skin as he expertly unclasps your bra with one hand. He hastily unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down your legs before they soon join the rest of your clothing.

You whimper, watching Chan eye your body.

“Fuck.” He shakily whispers. He dips his head low, kissing the valley between your breasts as he squeezes both your breasts. His lips trail to the left, tongue finding your hard nipple. 

With the tip of his tongue, he flicks it over the sensitive nub, causing you to shiver and whimper his name. He hums in satisfaction, removing the remainder of his clothes until he is just in his boxer shorts.

He captures your nipple in between his teeth, nibbling and biting it before harshly sucking. His tongue swirls around your nipple, his fingers taking the right one to tug and roll it between his fingers.

You bury your fingers into his hair, hips bucking upwards to meet him in a desperate attempt to grind on him or just to simply feel friction. 

“Such a desperate pup.” Chan tsk before kissing and sucking the skin of your breast making sure to leave purple marks.

“C-Chan…” You whine pathetically, tugging at his hair by the roots.

“Listen to yourself, you want me that bad huh?” 

“Y-Yes! I need you so bad Chan. I need to feel you deep inside me.” You whimper, pathetically begging. Chan shivers at your words.

“Good things come to those who wait, pup.” He trails his lips down from your breasts to your stomach, kissing along the waistband of your panties. He pulls down your panties slowly, throwing them on the floor before situationing himself comfortable between them.

He groans deeply, feeling his cock twitch in his boxer shorts as he comes face to face with your glistening core. It throbs, silently begging for something to enter, to feel full and euphoric. He becomes dizzy at your scent and sight, licking his lips animalistically.

“My gosh, pup.” He whispers. You flush red, feeling embarrassed about how wet and needy you are. Your juices coat your folds, much to Chan's pleasure.

He leans in, tongue instantly pressing against your aching clit. Your back arches as you feel him swipe his from your entrance to your clit, repeating the process several times. Your taste coats his tongue causing him to shiver and bask in the flavour.

“You taste delicious, y/n. fuck, in addicted to you.” His voice is shaky, adrenaline and hormones on high alert causing him to feel dizzy and shaky. He laps at your entrance, humming at the taste of you. His tongue poking your entrance, daring to enter. “I have a better idea.” 

He moves away causing you to watch him, brows pinching together. He lays flat on his back looking at you and smirking.

“Sit on my face.”

Those four magical words charmed you, your body automatically moving on its own. You shuffle to your face, legs either side as he holds onto your thighs. Your dripping cunt inches from his mouth as he licks his lips, your scent causing him to go dizzy.

You cautiously sit on his face, whimper when you feel his tongue flat on your clit. You hover, not wanting to put all your pressure on Chan because you don't want to hurt him in any way possible - however, Chan isn't satisfied.

“I said, sit on my face!” He growls. You whimper loudly, feeling his hands cup your ass and squeezing harshly. 

“Yes sir.” You whisper, obeying him as you sit properly on him. 

“Good girl.” He hums before sucking on your clit straight away. You moan his name loudly, pleasure rushing down your spine. As he sucks and licks your sensitive bundle of nerves, you take liberty in gliding your hands up your stomach to cup your own breasts.

You tilt your head back, moaning Chan's name repeatedly as you knead your own breasts, occasionally rolling and tugging at your own nipple. 

You feel Chan's tongue lap at your entrance greedily, desperately trying to catch every drop of your essence as his tattooed hands squeeze and part your ass cheeks in the process.

“Fuck, Chan.” You shakily breath out, running your fingers through his curls. His tongue effortlessly enters inside, his tongue caressing your walls. 

“C-Channie…” A simple hum can be heard from the man below you. You look down at him, his piercing, lust blown eyes meeting yours causing you to shiver. 

Before your brain could register what you were doing, your hips started to move on their own, the tip of Chan's nose nudging and rubbing your clit as you grind effortlessly on his face.

Normally, Chan would punish you for this because he didn't give you permission to do so, however, seeing you look so ethereal to him. Your head kicked back, fingers tugging and pinching your nipples, lips parted as your hips move erratically, desperate for release - it's enough to make him blow in his own underwear.

“Chan, fuck! Good, so good!” You cry out. One hand releases from your ass cheeks in order for him to pull his cock out of his underwear. He pumps himself slowly, wanting to savour the moment. He uses his own thumb to rub the tip of his cock, smearing his pre-cum around which makes his own hips buck.

Pressure builds up in the lower half of your stomach, your mind becoming foggy with lust. All you want is Chan, all you need is Chan. He's plaguing your thoughts and he doesn't even know about it. 

With every lick, suck and nibble brings you closer to the edge. Your thighs burn and shake from grinding down on him, desperately wanting to close but unable to do so. Chan knows your close, your exhibiting the tell-tale signs, the signs he knows too well.

Body shaking, lips parted but no words coming out. Your stomach clenching and being sucked in as you struggle to hold on.

“C-Cha– I can't!” You sob, the pressure being too much to bear. Chan hums, giving you the go ahead. You tug at his curls harshly, feeling your orgasm hit and wash over you in waves, causing the hair on your arms to stand straight.

Your juices squirt out on Chan's face, his already open mouth, catching each drop. With each droplet, he hums making sure to swallow. Once calm, you pant heavily, stroking his hair.

In one swift movement, your back on your back, Chan between your legs. He licks his lips clean of any remaining juice, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

“More.” He whispers, taking off his boxer shorts. You swallow thickly, expecting him to slide between your legs and fuck you hard and rough, but Chan has other ideas.

Instead of his cock, he inserts two of his fingers deep inside you. You groan deeply, back arching as he pumps them, fingers curling along your sopping and tight walls.

“C-Chan!!” You cry out, gripping onto his wrists. “W-Wait!” 

Ruthless. His movements ruthless, fingers curling and abusing your g-spot making you uncontrollably shake and wither. Your hair sticks to your forehead, sweat coating the ends as your body burns.

He rubs your clit from side to side, rubs matching the tempo of the thrusts. You let out strangled moans, the oversensitivity burning, causing your nerve endings to be on high alert.

“Ch-Chan!”

“That's my girl. I know you can take it.” He kisses your thighs, biting at the skin as his hair tickles it. ”Can you take it, princess? Bear with it and cum for me again like the good lil pup you are?”

“Take it.. I can take it! 'm good girl.. I'd do anything for you.” You whimper, nails digging into the skin of his wrists.

“That's my girl. You're such a good girl for me, y/n.”

“G-Good girl. I'm good girl. Channie's good girl.”

“That's right. Who do you belong to?”

“Y-You!” Your head flops from side to side, the oversensitivity burning and becoming painful. Your juices spill out of your cunt, slipping down the curve of your ass and onto the sheets. Before you could warn him, your juices suddenly squirt out, landing on Chan's forearm.

Chan watches with a smirk on his lips, his fingers showing no signs of slowing down. He watches the way your body twists and turns, legs shake and your hands gripping onto the bed sheets. He pulls his fingers out before taking off his boxer shorts, situating himself between your legs straight after.

He tugs at his cock, lining it up to your entrance as he holds onto your waist.

“You've been such a good girl for me, pup. Now I'm going to give you what you've been waiting for.” He purrs. You give him a dumb smile, hissing as he pushes his cock inside your tight and sopping cunt.

He pushes all the way to the hilt, your walls contracting around him. He grunts deeply as he hangs his head low, the feeling of your tightness suffocating him.

“Shit.” He mumbles, before thrusting at a slow and steady pace. “Shit, you're so tight pup.” 

“C-Chan. More… need more!” 

“Does my pup want more of my cock? Are you greedy for it?”

“Y-yes. faster, harder. Chan, please I beg you. I need to feel so much more of you!” You eyes silently beg him, tears pricking your lower lash line 

“Awe.” He coos, stroking your cheek. “Look at you begging for it. You know what I like, such a slut.” 

Your body jolts suddenly, Chan's hips snapping harshly against yours as he fucks you raw. Your back arches, his cock instantly hitting your g-spot making you see stars. Your toes curl, the wet sounds of your soppy cunt filling up the bedroom.

“C-Cha–'' You struggle to say, feeling your mind slowly become clouded. You feel yourself slowly losing all sense, Chan being the only thing you're able to focus on. The way his cock drives deep inside you, his length rubbing your walls in the most delicious way that drives out every pant and moans. 

“I can't! Chan, i– deep, you're so deep!” A dumb smile plasters on your face, lips parted as tears spill from the corners of your eyes. Your body becomes consumed with too much pleasure, the tips of your fingers and toes tingling, your skin feeling like it's on fire.

Your juices coat Chan's cock with each pull back, spilling from your soppy cunt. Chan growls and groans, his fingers digging into your waist harshly, purple bruises slowly forming in their wake.

“Such a tight cunt. Your walls are squeezing my cock.” Chan groans deeply, tingles of pleasure run down his spine to his cock and balls, making it twitch inside you. “Shit pup!”

“C-Channie–” Your body tosses and turns, sweat coating your body. Chan pushes back his sweaty curls with one hand before leaning over you, resting on his forearms. His tempo slows down, but he stays deep inside.

“Look at me, pup.” He whispers, hot breath fanning against your face. You slowly turn your head, giving him a dumb smile. Eyes hazily and lidded, nothing but thoughts of Chan swimming around in your head.

“My dumb pup. Did you get fucked dumb from my cock?” He coos. You simply nod, unable to form sentences. “Cant even speak, huh? You really are a dumb slut.”

“Yes.” You whisper, unaware of what you're saying. “Chans dumb slut. I'm channie's dumb slut.” 

“Good girl.” He growls, his lips pressing against yours. The kiss is sloppy, teeth and tongues bashing and colliding. Spit mixes together, spilling from the corner of your lips.

He leans up once again, towering over you. Holding onto your waist tightly, he resumes his powerful and ruthless thrusting. Skin slapping on skin, the back of your thighs turning red raw from the constant abuse. 

“I'm going to breed my pup. Give you my seed.”

“Yes! Give it to me Chan. Breed me, please."

“You want my seed, little one? Going to milk my cock dry just to get what you want?” Your walls clench around Chan from his words, a deep grunt falling past his lips.

“Y-Yes!” You choke out, throat and mouth feeling sore and dry from the continuous pants.

“Fuck, such a greedy little girl.” His own voice raspy from overuse, his hips faltering at the thought of filling you to the brim.

“I might not last long.” He whispers, his eyes trailing to the space that connects you both together. His body shivers as he watches his cock penetrate you over and over again.

Your walls clamp around Chan, that familiar pressure building up once again. You claw at Chan's arms, red welts appearing on his skin and you wither.

“C-Chan. I-I'm…” Chan simply hums in acknowledgement, watching the way your juices continually spill from your swollen and overused cunt.

A couple more thrusts and hits on your g-spot and your orgasm hits you, hard. You gasp for breath, back arching violently from the bed as you squirt your juices all over Chan's cock, his lower half of his body and the sheets. 

Chan's eyes widen, his movements coming to a stop as he watches. “Holy–” He simply whispers.

Your body violently shakes, the ability to breath is apparent. You whisper and moan Chan's name over and over again, like a ritual.

“Still, to this day, you never fail to amaze me.” Chan growls, showing no mercy on his thrusting. He's being selfish, wants to chase his own high, fill you up nice and deep with his seed.

The oversensitivity causes you to pant heavily, choke on air. Body withers side to side, hands gripping onto the sheets tightly as you struggle to comprehend.

“C-Ch–” You sob, toes curling as tears spill down your cheeks.

“I know, I know pup.” His head dips low, eyes squeezing shut as his balls get tighter, the pressure becoming too much. “Just, a little longer.”

Your muscles scream at you, body slick with sweat. Your cunt burns and stings from overuse. Soft praises emit from Chan's lips, his orgasm approaching fast.

“Shit!” One final thrust was all it took. You feel his hot cum shoot out, coating your walls. His cock twitches with each release. You hum softly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel him filling you up.

“It's so much.” He whispers, embarrassed as he hangs his head low. “I'm sorry pup, it's so much.” 

“More.” You simply whisper. Chan slowly pulls out of you, his cum seeping out from your swollen pussy. Your face scrunches up as your hips buck from the sting. “I want more.”

“No more, pup.” Chan softly speaks. Your bottom lip quivers.

“Why?!”

“Because–” Chan grabs some baby wipes, gently cleaning the cum from your cunt. You whimper, your cunt still too sensitive. “You're sore.”

“I can take it! Please chan!” You weakly lean up on your elbows.

“As much as I would love to fuck you into the night pup, I can't. You're too sore for any more.”

“But–” 

“No buts pup. We go take a bath, get some food and calm down. You're sore and tender and I don't want to hurt you anymore, even if it is intentionally. I get off knowing that you feel good, that's the main reason why I feel good. If I go back to fucking you at this moment in time and I see that you're in pain, it's not fun no more, pup.”

You pout, looking down. Disappointed? Yes, but you understand. Now that your hormones are slowly calming down, your head slowly becoming clearer, you understand his reasoning.

“Fine.” You mumble, pouting. Chan chuckles softly, pressing a sweet and gentle kiss on your sweaty forehead.

“I'll run us a bath, where we can relax, clean up and talk about our day.” Chan shuffles off the bed. ”After that, I'm going to smother you in so much love and kisses!”

You squeal as you get picked up in his strong, tattooed arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms around his neck as he cups under your ass to keep you stable. 

“How does that sound pup?” He whispers softly, lips brushing against yours.

“It sounds perfect Chan, just like you.”

→ note: i have no excuses nor any words, tbh. hehehehe :)  don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. enjoy!!

→ TAGS [open]: @chaneomma | @sstarryoong | @meltheninja13 | @laylasbunbunny | @oshimee

DAECHWITA: Chapter 7

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Fascinating thing, love. The most uninvited of guests. A spoiled brat demanding what it desired with loud whines, could not be tamed at any cost. It wouldn’t listen to you; you had to listen to it to make it stop crying.

Chapter 7: Nobody Else

📜8.6K words | Approx. 37-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings. This chapter contains disturbing and potentially triggering heavy themes. Read at your own risk: Depictions of mental/emotional abuse and general asshole behavior, referenced tyranny, implied sex work, threat to induce a miscarriage, dubcon, themes of obsession, infidelity, revenge, loss & grief; postpartum depression, murderous intent & murder, virginity loss. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

“All rise for the King!”

The Dragon Pride Dojo was burdened with the honor of training the royal troops. The king would make impromptu visits every now and then to appraise the current status of his brigades, not because there was an imminent threat of war but because he was compulsive about being sure they were ready to be deployed at a moment's notice. They were already receiving their modern warfare training with the national army, but this was different—they were learning defensive combat here aimed at disarming, evading being a target, and survival skills in a captive situation. Who better to supervise this than The Grandmaster himself?

“Your majesty.”

The queen silently nodded to the clan master. While she was appreciative of the endeavors carried out in the name of the kingdom, no matter how symbolic that kingdom was, even a large hall filled with adrenaline and testosterone to the brim didn't prevent her from being bored out of her mind. Once she stepped foot on the kingdom grounds two years ago, her crushed hopes morphed into a permanent state of indifference and never changed colors again. A dull, bleak shade of gray. The theme song to her everlasting gloom.

Kingdom. Boredom. Same thing.

“We sincerely hope you are pleased with the current levels of proficiency of the troops, your excellency. They shall only get better at their craft.”

“Not bad at all,” the king flashed a perverse, crooked smile, “I want to watch a one-on-one of your two best fighters.”

Her eyes rolled all the way to the back of her head. This man and his goddamn bloodlust. That was the life she was supposed to live: being forced to go everywhere her beloved husband dragged her. Not because she was expected to offer opinions—who the fuck was she to be even capable of forming her own opinions anyway? What would she know about the intricacies of military arts as a woman? What would she know other than playing with her stupid little flowers, wasting ink on parchments, and making tea? 

“Of course, my king. Namjoon! Jungkook! Step forward.”

She was only there because her betrothed loved flaunting her around like a show pony. Young, beautiful, graceful, and a property signed to his name. She was there to be put on a display case, but ironically enough you weren't supposed to make direct eye contact with the queen, or even compliment her in any capacity.

If you valued your life, of course. 

Mercy and rational thought weren't exactly the king’s strong suit, and the government couldn't do shit about what was going down on his grounds. If the king could indulge in prostitution to his heart's content, host blood baths under the disguise of fight nights that always ended up in someone's demise, or order someone’s death just because he was irritated by the way they looked at him, it was only due to a long-standing arrangement between the parliament and the royal council.

I don't know you; you don't know me. Stay out of my business.

The young queen made her way towards the door that led to the little garden behind the dojo.

“Where do you think you're going?”

The commanding voice of the apple of her eye had zero effect on her because she wasn't afraid of him. She wasn’t afraid of him even when she was told she was going to spend the rest of her life as the lawfully wedded wife of a notorious tyrant. He possessed no sense of kindness, no affection, nothing—the man’s entire personality was a quilt made up of cardinal sins, but he did have a weakness for her. She knew it wasn’t love; her one and only was used to obtaining everything he laid his eyes on and he was just heavily obsessed with her. Not even her per se, just the idea of owning her, a woman a lot of men would kill to be able to call their wife. The beautiful countess in line for the throne. Her father had other plans for her, of course. Why have her be a countess when she could be a goddamn queen?

She didn’t have a choice in the matter—she had to marry him, but in the matters she had a choice in, that sick bastard had better mind his step. Just because they were married, it didn’t mean he could put his hands on her however the fuck he pleased. He had his concubines for that, and she couldn’t care less about what he did with them. If he tried something with her, she accepted no responsibility for the person she was going to turn into because she told him right from the start that she was going to sleep with a razor and he would have no way of knowing where she was hiding it.

She had learned how to hide it under her tongue without hurting herself long ago, though.

“This is Tatsumura silk. I don't want any blood on them,” she touched the robe hugging her body with her serene smile, “I'll be in the garden playing with my stupid little flowers.”

She walked out as gracefully as ever because that was what royalty was supposed to do. Be graceful even when they wanted to scream their lungs out out of despair. She spotted a woman grooming a jasmine shrub with her pruning shears and made her way over.

“They are so pretty,” she sat down on the empty stool next to her, “You’re The Grandmaster’s spouse, am I correct?”

The woman was startled to death when she noticed who was talking to her.

“Your highness!”

“Please! Please don't call me that. I can't stand it anymore.”

Do not address royalty as royalty? What then?! The woman was severely tongue-tied at this request.

“What– what should I call you your– your high–?”

“Hyejin is fine,” she smiled, “Really. It's more than fine. I've… I’ve never needed a friend more than I do now.”

That was the first time Hyejin cried in front of someone else. Even her crying was graceful. Quiet. After the woman got over the initial shock, she felt an overwhelming urge to offer comfort to that poor little thing. Yes, she may have been a queen, but even queens felt pain. She cut a piece of jasmine from the shrub and kneeled in front of this beautiful woman as if they were equals and attached the delicate flower to her silky hair like a jade comb. Hyejin smiled through her tears.

“Smiling suits you so much, Hyejin,” the woman reflected the broken fondness back to her, “My name is Jun. Can I offer you some tea?”

Tea. A listening ear. A shoulder to cry on. Hyejin didn't know why she spilled her guts to a complete stranger about the most private details of her life, not even caring what she would do with that information. She only knew that she had enough.

Over three cups of jasmine green tea, she told her new friend about her crazy husband she was forced to marry. King Yoongi, the textbook definition of a tyrant, who didn't actually give two shits about her. Who would spend most of his time getting drunk, fucking a bunch of concubines—sometimes even in their own marital bed, and playing god while his royal council made all the decisions on behalf of him. Some people were privy to listening to words of affection from their darling spouses while hers randomly kept reminding her that he would induce miscarriages if she wasn't able to give birth to a male heir. Well, he needed to be able to touch her in order to produce the said heir, but Hyejin was getting physically sick whenever he came close, making up excuses to prevent him from touching her. Headache, stomachache…

But her heartache. Her heartache caused by the reality that she had no way of knowing what being loved felt like was the actual reason.

"Jun, baby, when should we have dinn– Your highness!"

The young Grandmaster frantically bowed as soon as he made eye contact with the queen. Usually a man of so much composure and discipline, Minhyuk almost snapped his torso in half attempting to offer his respects.

“In about half an hour or so,” Jun responded and turned to her friend, “Hyejin, this is my neurotic husband Minhyuk. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“What are you doing?!” Minhyuk spoke through his clenched teeth, not quite sure why his wife was asking for a death sentence.

“It's fine! Please,” Hyejin looked at him with begging eyes, “I told her to call me by my first name. I would really love it if you also did that.”

Never in three lifetimes could Minhyuk imagine he would be getting such a request.

“R–Really?”

“Please,” she pleaded again, “I’m afraid I can’t stay for dinner this evening since I’m expected at the palace, but I would love to some time.”

And that was how this very unlikely friendship began under that roof. On the outside, she was always her highness, but with them, she was Hyejin. She loved being Hyejin. Thanks to nobody paying attention to whether she existed or not, Hyejin left the palace as frequently as she could in her ‘subject attire’ to visit them, and their bond grew much stronger over making pickles together, telling stories, planting flowers, and keeping secrets over many cups of tea.

Hyejin was very fond of Jun and Minhyuk. Just looking at them made her heart swell. How lucky for them that they seemed to have found each other, and if they weren’t the living proof that love and the concept of soulmates existed, then what was? 

It was indeed real—Hyejin just did not have the privilege of that.

It was okay, though. Seeing the only friends she had so in love with each other made her feel like she was still able to experience some things no matter how vicariously.

One windy evening, a knock was heard on their front door. Everybody that needed to be in that kitchen was already there, thus the feeling of acute onset uneasiness. Could that be someone from the palace? Did somebody finally notice Hyejin was spending a considerable amount of her time someplace else rather than being imprisoned in her chambers?

When Minhyuk approached the door with extreme caution, he was indeed met with the most unexpected guest, but in the most pleasant sense possible.

“James!” he broke into a gigantic smile and tightly embraced the man at the door, “What a pleasant surprise!”

James. Minhyuk’s brother from another mother. They had met at a bar several years ago when Minhyuk was overseas for a series of workshops and clicked over their mutual obsession with vintage cars downing many glasses of craft beer. Minhyuk being himself, he immediately developed a soft spot for James because the only thing he had akin to a family was the greenhouse his late father left him. Their friendship escalated to family status when James relocated to this city for a year just to experience the culture Minhyuk did an amazing job promoting, and by the end of it, he could make a meaner army stew than Jun’s. No matter the distance, they always knew they had another home somewhere on the other side of the world.

“Sorry for the unannounced visit, but I’m in dire need of friend therapy. I was about to drown,” the man shoved his hand into his bag to fish for something, “Where’s Jun? I brought her something.”

When the familiar voice hit her ears, Jun’s eyes widened and she dashed to the front door.

“Forget-me-not seeds for your garden. So that you guys won’t forget me,” James showed the bag to her with a big smile.

“No way!”

“Nuh uh. Hug first.” 

“Who could forget you, you dork? Come here!”

Hyejin was intrigued by the cheerful commotion by the front door. She carefully walked towards it with somewhat afraid steps and peeked at the trio behind a column. A very unfamiliar feeling that felt like a free fall in the pit of her stomach spread throughout her body when she saw the most beautiful man she had ever laid her eyes on. Honey skin, broad shoulders, unruly hair, a pair of dimples carved on his cheeks, crescent moon eyes. He smelled like waves crashing on a shore during sunset.

“James, this is Hyejin,” Minhyuk introduced his friend when he noticed the figure standing in silence, “She is uh…”

Minhyuk and Jun shared a brief concerned look. As far as they were concerned, Hyejin was just their friend. A friend that happened to be a fucking queen, yet not only did she hate being reminded of that fact, but also it wasn’t their place to explain what a queen was doing hanging out in a citizen’s home on her behalf. Even if they tried, James would most likely think it was an elaborate albeit hilarious prank anyway.

“A florist!” Hyejin answered in panic once she made eye contact with Jun, “I’m a florist.”

All eyes turned to James just to see whether he believed it or not, but he seemed like he was in another dimension completely. His eyes fixated on Hyejin with a somewhat blank expression and lips parted, he looked like he was struck by lightning at her sight. Then the tiniest of smiles appeared on his lips.

“Pleasure to meet you, Hyejin.”

As Minhyuk escorted his guest to the living room, the women returned to the kitchen to make some tea. Hyejin held onto her friend’s arm and pleaded with urgency in a hushed voice.

“Please don’t tell him anything about me being royalty.”

“Of course we wouldn’t,” Jun spoke with a comforting smile, “but rest assured James is one of the most trustworthy people you can ever come across. We would trust our lives with him.”

“It’s– It’s not that,” Hyejin looked at her feet somewhat embarrassed, “I wouldn’t want him to treat me differently just– just because–”

Jun put the teapot on the stove and examined Hyejin’s rose pink face, flushed through and through all the way up to her ears. Hyejin had always been an exquisite woman except for the times she went totally unfiltered courtesy of a little too much soju, but never once did she get flustered for any reason. Needless to say, this was the most entertaining thing ever for Jun.

“Hyejin, are you…?”

“Please.”

“Granted, you just saw the man like three seconds ago, but–”

“Jun, please.”

“I mean you would make a really cute couple.”

“Please!” Hyejin stomped her feet in desperation like a five-year-old, but absolutely couldn’t help the urge to ask while she was examining the floor tiles, “You really think we would?”

Jun burst into laughter at how endeared she was over Hyejin trying to be nonchalant while very obviously developing an instant crush, and squeezed the life out of her in an embrace. While the situation was indeed adorable, she felt the need to remind her friend of some hard truths with a broken smile and a whisper.

“If you weren’t a queen married to a crazy man, yes you would, sweetheart.”

Fascinating thing, love. The most uninvited of guests. A spoiled brat demanding what it desired with loud whines, could not be tamed at any cost. It wouldn't listen to you; you had to listen to it to make it stop crying. An infant that asked a lot of unintentionally deep questions, making you go through many existential crises in the meantime, but was not capable of understanding what logic was. 

Every time this man from the summerland opened his mouth, every time he smiled at her, every time their fingers brushed, with every word they uttered to each other, every second they spent in the presence of one another, Hyejin fell deeper in love. It hurt so bad that it felt so good, and that was exactly why Hyejin could casually declare she was going to visit her homeland for a while when in fact she never left the premises of the city. She became a semi-permanent guest in her friends’ cozy home instead. She might have been on borrowed time, but at least she was happy for once.

It was like an unspoken confession. A silent agreement where both parties did not care about anything else other than having each other's company. Talking about benign things like how much better croutons made tomato soup. Talking about fascinating things like how the two hemispheres of the world had different seasons. Forget-me-nots, secluded beaches, inkwash painting, making surfboards, talking, talking, talking just to hear the voice of the other person for days on end.

“I was really hoping you'd be here.”

Hyejin was sitting in the backyard of the guesthouse with her jasmine green tea, watching the night sky, and thinking about the summerland man. Secretly hoping he would sense her presence there. Maybe join her for a cup of tea and talk about constellations and whatnot.

“Y-you were?”

“Yes, I uh– There's something I'd like to tell you,” James sheepishly smiled while sitting down on the wooden chair next to hers, “I have been thinking about how to properly say it for days.”

Hyejin’s heart was beating so fast, but what was new? Every time she caught a glimpse of him, she was sure this time it was going to be a heart attack for her chest went berserk. He had his usual iodine scent on him, reminding her of the seashells she used to love collecting. Hyejin hadn’t been to the beach for god knows how long.

“Were you able to figure it out?” she offered him a cup of tea.

“Not really,” his smile evolved into a small chuckle, “That's why I really hope it doesn't come across as something ghastly because I seriously don't know how else to tell you this.”

“Is everything okay?”

Her porcelain features were tainted with worry. He was about to break her heart, wasn’t he? He was about to tell her that it had been nice, but he was going back, and they were never going to see each other again because—

“I think I'm in love with you, Hyejin.”

The words she wanted to hear for so long. The words she secretly hoped she would hear one day, words she wished upon many falling stars on nights like these. Logic? What logic? Logic had no business existing in the presence of love.

“Don’t–”

“Please listen,” he held her hands in his while looking deep into her eyes, “I can’t stop picturing you when I see something beautiful. I keep wishing you were with me when something bad happens because it wouldn’t hurt as much. You’re the first and last thing I think about every day.”

She felt her eyes welling up because of simultaneous euphoria and anguish. Because, me too, she wanted to say. She wanted to hold him for once. Feel what that was like. Inhale his oceany scent as much as she could. Surrender to the waves of the summerland and let them drift her wherever they may.

“I want us to be together, Hyejin.”

“You– You can't want me.”

No. That’s not what I meant. Please don’t let me push you away.

James looked like his entire world was collapsing. The sadness on his face was ripping Hyejin’s soul apart.

“But… why not?” 

How do I tell you there are things I don’t have any control over? How do I tell you this is where I want to be, but I curse my damn luck every day that I had to be born into a prison?

“Because I'm… I’m not who you think I am.”

“Maybe I'm not who you think I am, either.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You're convinced whatever you are will make me want to walk away.”

Because it’s true. You will walk away. I don’t want to wake up just yet. Please.

“I've never felt this way before. I know it's you, Hyejin. You're the one for me.”

What a goddamn irony that the sweetest of words could cause immeasurable pain. How unfair it was that she didn’t have the luxury of drowning him in kisses in return. Thanking him for making her realize her heart was capable of feeling things. That she was maybe deserving of feeling those things, too.

“Would you please, please at least consider giving us a chance?” James pleaded with every ounce of yearning he could squeeze into his words, “I want you. And only you. I'll wait for you for a lifetime if that's what it takes.”

“James…”

Logic. Logic had no business existing in the presence of love, but honesty did. If he was going to leave, he needed to leave now—not when she was six feet under with the weight of the love she couldn’t contain inside her anymore.

“I'm married.”

“You… you're what?”

Shock. Of course. Quite a normal reaction. Hyejin naturally felt like the worst person that ever walked this earth.

“It's hard not to walk away from that, isn't it?” she uttered with a shattered smile.

Leave. Leave now. Not when I’m dying of the pain of missing you.

“Do you love him?”

“No.”

“Does he love you?”

“God, no.”

No one ever loved me besides you. I’m a property to be traded off.

“Then can’t you get a divorce?”

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

Hyejin took a deep breath. No point in tiptoeing around the truth anymore, was there?

“Marriages without a last name do not grant the right to divorce, James.”

She thought it would shock him further, anger him, maybe even scare him, but James spoke with sheer composure as if he was just stating some common knowledge.

“You’re married to the king.”

This. This was how he was going to get up and leave. Maybe say some things that were uncalled for as he was leaving, but he would be right. It would most definitely serve Hyejin right. Pushing the truth in the shadows was still lying, and nobody really deserved to be lied to.

Hyejin just nodded in response.

“But you don't love him.”

“I don't, but–”

“Do you love me?”

I love you. I’m in love with you. You’re the reason I know what happiness feels like. You’re all I could ever ask for.

“Don't ask me that.”

“Please,” James touched her face and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb, “Say you don't love me and I'll leave, but I know you do.”

Hyejin closed her eyes and leaned into the feeling. She was shivering all over. A simple touch. It was enough to induce violent eruptions all over her being.

“You feel it, too, don't you? You know we belong together.”

She wanted to believe it, but believing made it worse. There he was, her soulmate in front of her, begging her to take him with her. Any sane person would say yes, but Hyejin’s truths were ugly.

God, they were so so ugly.

“Doesn't… Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked with her voice slightly cracking.

“That the woman I love is married to some jackass? No,” James tried his hand in some inappropriate humor to make Hyejin smile, “That she is unhappy, on the other hand? Yes, very much.”

Cruel. This was just flat out cruel. She deserved this, too. She deserved to be the subject of a gaze filled to the brim with adoration. She deserved to be loved.

“We could be happy,” he kissed her hands, “I can make you very happy.”

“But I can never be yours.”

“On paper. So what?” James insisted, “I don’t care about the fine print. All I want is for you to give your heart to me.”

That would be an extremely redundant request because he already had her heart. For the longest time. He had her heart the first time he showed his dimples to her. 

“Will you? Will you give your heart to me? Make me the happiest man on earth?” he brought his face closer to hers, “Will you let me make you the happiest woman in the universe?”

There were many days Hyejin thought about how his lips would feel like on hers, and that night under that clear sky embellished with many shooting stars, she finally got her answer. Her first kiss. It made her feel like she was dying. James was healing her scars close one kiss at a time, ready to give everything the queen of his soul wanted. All she needed to do was ask. She could ask for the oxygen in his lungs for all he cared, and he would just happily oblige. Anything for her. He loved her. She loved him. And their need for each other was reaching a very dangerous line until Hyejin stopped him.

“I– I hav–”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” James apologized in panic, completely breathless, “I lost control for a moment. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I– I apologi–”

“It’s fine,” Hyejin smiled to him while cupping his face, “I just… I’m– I haven’t–”

It took a moment for James to gather his wits again and finally comprehend what Hyejin was struggling to say.

“But… You're married,” he spoke with slight confusion.

“I know,” she responded while heaving a sigh, “You would think being married and being a virgin are not mutually exclusive, but here we are.”

“It’s alright. We don’t have to,” he kissed her hands again and flashed a very loving reassuring smile with those crescent eyes of his, “As long as I can hold you in my arms, I’m content.”

What did I ever do to deserve you?

Hyejin could get lost in his doe eyes for an eternity. It was impossible to contain the amount of affection she harbored for this man. It was her that initiated the kiss this time, with the intention of just kissing him, showing how much she loved him with little pecks all over his face, but it was her who couldn’t control how rapidly it was escalating again.

“I want to,” she whispered against his lips “I want it to be with you.”

“Hyejin, you don’t have t–”

“I know, but it’s you.”

“Are you sure?”

She’d had enough. Enough with having to make rational decisions for the greater good. Enough with being so restrained so that she wouldn’t dishonor the lineage. To hell with witnessing her own demise one day at a time. It was time to live for once, and that time was now. She kissed him as an answer and dragged him into the guesthouse.

“Touch me.”

Everything clicked all of a sudden. It felt so right, so natural with James like this was where she was supposed to be all along and she just got lost trying to make her way to him. For once in her life, Hyejin felt like she found her home. She belonged. She belonged right here with him as he stripped her, as they kissed the life out of each other, as he made her feel things she never knew were possible, quietly moaning one another’s names as they descended into insanity together over and over and over again.

“I love you. God, I love you so much,” James spoke against her supple skin, “I want to make love to you all night. Every day. As long as I breathe.”

That night, Hyejin was slowly dying in his arms, but she had never felt so alive.

Careless. 

She was getting careless because logic had no business existing in the presence of love. All Hyejin could think about was him, him, and him only. His smile that instantly brightened her day, washing away all her worries. His touch that she was constantly craving. His embrace that she wanted as her blanket every night she put her head on her pillow, but she was getting too careless to notice somebody started questioning her frequent disappearances from the grounds.

And it was the best and worst thing that ever happened to Hyejin when she found out she was carrying her soulmate’s child.

“What are you going to do?” Jun asked her all concerned, awestruck by the sheer determination her dear friend was exhibiting.

“I’m going to have this baby.”

“And how will you explain that to a certain lunatic exactly?”

She had thought about everything to make this happen, albeit through utterly ludicrous means. Be around a maniac long enough, their insanity was of course going to rub on you.

“If he thinks it’s his…”

“Are you actually going to sleep with him?!”

“God, no,” Hyejin shook her head in utter disgust, “I’ll just pretend.”

“But what if it’s a girl?”

“Then I’ll adopt a boy under a different name. I’ll raise this baby no matter what.”

“Hyejin, you’re not thinking straight.”

“Are you with me or not?!”

This was the first time Jun saw Hyejin this frantic. Desperate. Of course. Of course she was going to be by her side, but there was nothing else she could do besides keep praying that this scheme had better work.

It had to work. 

The first time Hyejin let her husband see her naked was after getting him dead drunk. It nauseated her beyond words to let him touch her, pretend she was riding him as he kept spewing all kinds of profanities with his wine-ridden breath. This wasn’t him in bed with his wife, but more like one of his disposable concubines. She closed her eyes, did her utmost best to filter out Yoongi’s slurring voice, and manifest James behind her eyelids instead so that it was somewhat bearable. She didn’t get off of him even after he ejaculated and waited patiently until he blacked out, immediately cleaning him to leave no traces behind. Then she dashed to the bathroom to hurl her lungs out.

The secret was getting a bit too noticeable to keep, but Hyejin was adamant to do whatever was necessary including not seeing James for a while. Being the only person who could visit the grounds, Minhyuk assumed the role of being their messenger under the disguise of paying his respects to her excellency. He was one of the privileged individuals who were in possession of the classified knowledge that was the secret passages in and out of the palace. He had to know that for tactical training purposes, but no one forbade him from abusing his power to aid and abet James and Hyejin, the only people besides Jun that mattered to him.

“This will take you to the guesthouse exit,” Minhyuk handed her a brass key after giving her detailed directions, “I’ll bring him there when the time is right. Please be patient just a while longer.”

Be patient. That was all Hyejin was able to do lately. She hid herself under many layers of robes to hide how much she was showing and didn’t leave her chambers unless absolutely necessary until one fateful afternoon, she got the news she was anxiously waiting for.

“It’s a boy, your highness.”

Hyejin cried. She cried many tears of relief that day. She cried many tears of happiness when she finally saw the love of her life behind an iron door.

“Is it true?” James asked utterly excited between his kisses, “We’re having a boy?”

When she nodded, he broke down crying with her, wrapping the woman he loved in a tight embrace, kissing every inch of her he could possibly place a kiss on. Much like the stolen nights they shared together, the moment of euphoria was nothing but ephemeral. There were uglier truths they had to face. Again. For the millionth time.

“I won’t be able to leave the palace for a long while,” Hyejin uttered in a somber voice, “I– I understand if you want to leave.”

“I’m never leaving you, you hear me?” James declared with so much dedication, “Never.”

When he touched Hyejin’s pregnant belly, he let himself get lost in momentary bliss, a smile invading his lips through and through.

“I can already see my boy having a sibling,” he kissed her forehead, “A sister he will be so overprotective of. Or a brother he’s gonna wreak havoc with.”

“Let’s talk in another six months or so,” Hyejin pulled him into a kiss again before returning to her chambers.

Lucky for Hyejin, she actually spent a very healthy pregnancy, but to anybody who asked, she was going to tell them her baby boy was born prematurely. To nobody’s surprise, the king was nowhere to be found during her labor. All he cared about was that it was a boy, literally nothing else.

“What are you going to name the young master, your highness?” her aide Mina placed the little boy in her embrace. Hyejin’s eyes fell on the brown globe residing on her study and the iron piece on top of it. 

Southwest. Northeast. Two opposite pieces of a compass.

“Christopher,” she replied with a tired smile.

“You’re giving the young master a foreign name?” Mina asked in mild shock.

“He will represent the land of tidal waves. The foreign values we should adopt,” she resolutely declared as if she was giving a lecture, “One of these days, his sibling will represent the land of high mountains—our traditional principles we will keep until the end of time, and will be named accordingly.”

That little show passed as something very meaningful in the eyes of the palace residents, including Yoongi, but little did they know little Chris was actually named after James’ father. The only person Hyejin confided in with the truth was Mina. She was the final accomplice to help Jun and Minhyuk hide her affair and the illegitimacy of Chris. And they were doing such a great job at it, too.

“Look at him, Mina!” Hyejin lifted her son in a little tuxedo, “James is going to die seeing these pictures.”

“I don’t mean any disrespect, but the young master looks a lot like Sir James, your highness,” Mina spoke with a fond smile, “Most definitely the disorderly hair.”

“He’s his father’s son after all, aren’t you baby?”

“Is that so?” 

The only voice that could have the effect of a nuclear bomb dropping in that room. Yoongi’s. Hyejin’s blood froze, and terror was written all over her face. She handed her boy to Mina and gestured her to get out.

“Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t make your bastard child disappear right fucking now,” he kept slowly making his way into her chambers like a snake slithering towards its prey.

Think. Think! Something. Anything.

Hyejin had lived her entire life under pressure, learning the ins and outs of royal politics. What to say and what not to say. That was how she knew there was nothing more important than saving face at whatever cost.

“If the word spreads this isn’t your child, it would be unmitigated blasphemy, your excellency.”

“True, but accidents happen every day, don’t they Hyejin? I'm sure I'll have public sympathy if I tell them I just wanted to purge my honor.”

Please. Kill me if you want but don't touch him.

He could. And he would if he wanted to, but Yoongi was an opportunist if nothing else. The matter of the fact was he didn't give a damn about the betrayal, but Hyejin didn't need to know that. He could live with the pseudo-hurt of his pride as long as he got something in return that would make up for it.

Curse the day he saw this woman bare in front of him no matter how blurry.

“Here's what's going to happen, my beautiful wife,” he stood right behind Hyejin and pecked her nape, immediately making her skin crawl, “You’re gonna give yourself to me very voluntarily and I will not touch the kid.” 

He brushed her hair with his veiny fingers and whispered his quiet threat into her ear.

“And I will be fully sober this time to make sure it’s me who breeds you,” he placed a soft kiss on her earlobe before leaving, “Be ready for me tonight, or say goodbye to your boy.”

Kill me if you want but don't touch him. Hyejin wished for it herself. This was no different than death, but it was at least temporary. She spent the entire day by her son, whispering how much he loved him through her tears and begging for his forgiveness. When the time to surrender finally arrived, she urged Mina to never leave his side and walked to her chambers to embrace her fate. It was going to be okay; she was just going to lay there, let him do whatever he wants, and then it was going to be over. It was going to be fine.

“Stop crying. I’m getting soft.”

That was the moment Hyejin’s tear glands stopped working. She wasn’t feeling anything anymore—just catatonically laying there, counting down the seconds until her sentence was over, feeling sore between her legs until he came inside her with loud grunts.

“This better hold as a boy. Otherwise, you know what will happen,” Yoongi reminded her while getting dressed, “And don’t think this changes anything. You’re no different than the whores I fuck.”

He waited. He waited patiently for weeks until he learned the sex of the baby. So that he knew how much blood was going to be on his hands. If it was a girl, Yoongi had no problem wiping the slate clean and doing everything all over again until he had a male heir to the throne of his own descent.

“It’s a boy, your highness.”

Hyejin cried again. That day, she cried many tears of relief mixed with the unbearable heaviness of the burden on her heart.

Northeast. The land of high mountains. It indeed brought a blizzard with him. 

Yoongi’s alleged condition was simple. He wasn’t going to lay a finger on Chris if Hyejin agreed to sleep with him.

“Your highness! You have to warn Sir James!”

He hadn’t promised anything about not doing anything to his father, of course.

While Mina was Hyejin’s aide, her husband Jiyong was Yoongi’s, and not so shockingly, they had this collective loathing towards the king. Thanks to whatever stars aligned that day, Jiyong had overheard the king plotting to kill both the child and the father with his right-hand men, trying to come up with ways to make it go away as silently as possible.

“Send Jiyong to Minhyuk. Quietly. Tell James to get ready to leave tonight. I’ll be waiting for them at our usual spot at our usual time. They’ll know what it means. Hurry!”

One last goodbye. That was all she was afforded. A heartbreaking farewell until who knew when. Hyejin knew what she was getting herself into when she fell for this man. The love of her life. The father of her child, but she would be damned if she let anything happen to him because of her while she was alive.

“You need to go into hiding,” she instructed him with a trembling voice that was so unlike her, “Do not tell anyone where you are, not even Minhyuk. He’s the first person they’ll come after if things go south.”

“Baby please,” James begged her, having absolutely no control over his tears, “Please don’t do this to us.”

“You have to understand how serious this is. We’ve run out of time,” Hyejin threw herself in his arms, hugging him tightly until she carved his outline on her body, “I love you. I’ll find you one day.” 

“I’ll wait for you,” he kissed his other half one last time, “I’ll wait for you until my last breath. I promise, Hyejin.”

So quick. So fragile. Like it never happened. 

With one-third of her soul gone, the beautiful queen turned a little more morose every day. Wilting. And wilting. And wilting. Falling into a state of despair so deep that at some point she wanted to induce the miscarriage she was always threatened with on her own. When her momentary lapse of sanity was overthrown by her maternal instincts, she was utterly ashamed of herself. Absolutely disgusted. What a complete excuse of a human being she was for even considering it, willing to take her anguish out on a soul that was in no way at fault.

“I’m sorry, Hyunjin,” she caressed her pregnant belly while letting her tears create a torrent in her chambers, “I’m so sorry.”

She looked up to her baby boy’s cradle upon his cooing sounds and held him in her arms as gently as possible.

“You’re never leaving me. Neither of you.”

Hyejin could not leave the grounds even after Hyunjin was born. She knew she had several pairs of eyes watching her every step. The only contact she had with the outside world was Minhyuk. They met every time he visited the palace for training purposes, usually chatting about this and that to distract Hyejin and giving each other life updates. That particular morning by the guesthouse pond was certainly not one of their regular talks.

“I need him gone, Minhyuk,” Hyejin coldly uttered with her eyes fixated on the koi fish.

Minhyuk wasn’t even slightly fazed at this confession because quite frankly he had been expecting that way sooner.

“You’re crazy if you think you can get away with offing him yourself.”

“Look into my eyes and tell me I would be able to stop you if Jun was in danger.”

“You wouldn’t,” he leisurely responded while crumbling some more bread into the pond, “but I wouldn’t be stupid enough to do it myself, either.”

Because if King Yoongi had the means to plot shit, so did they. Anybody who thought poor Queen Hyejin was drifting through this world all by herself was gravely mistaken.

What better reason for a gathering than a feast to celebrate another male heir? The male heir. The dimly-lit Grand Hall full of people accompanied by The Royal Gugak Ensemble providing the tunes of the king’s favorite pieces. Perfectly done lamb chops, roasted vegetables, the rarest delicacies, the sweetest desserts. All kinds of alcohol raining like it’s monsoon season. Haze. Smoke. Dancers. Everybody’s so satiated that nobody notices the king’s drinks are being laced the entire night. Then a night in heaven for the king with his favorite concubines because he did such a great job impregnating the queen with a boy.

“It’s a very special cause for celebration,” Hyejin explained to the king’s favorites personally, “Whatever you do, make sure he has fun. Don’t let him rest. Understood?”

Such a request coming from the king’s actual wife, anybody would be weirded out.

“Your highness, are you su–”

“Do you want your freedom or not, woman?” she chastised the young girl who didn’t look a day older than twenty one, “Do as I say and do not speak a word of this to anyone.”

Just so they got the message and there was no room for confusion, Hyejin drew her freshly sharpened dagger she was sleeping with and pointed it at the entertainers.

“Not. A word. To anyone.”

Minhyuk was among the guests of honor that day although Hyejin would have loved to see Jun with him. She welcomed him at the gates of the Grand Hall and spoke discreetly under a smile while shaking his hand.

“You need to stay close to him. Our lives are in your hands now.”

Close? Minhyuk became Yoongi’s number one hypeman, forcing him to down drink after drink. A couple of hours later the king excused himself, graciously allowing the guests to continue with the festivities as he left to have a little private party of his own. When the queen was summoned to his chambers for an emergency, she was told that the king had passed away due to a heart attack seemingly induced by overdosing while… you know.

“This is way too abominable to announce to the public,” Hyejin coldbloodedly declared to the doctor, “You’re going to cite the cause of death as an acute heart attack and that’s final. No autopsy needed.”

“Your highness–”

“You’re going to cite it as a goddamn heart attack if you do not wish to join him and Hippocrates for a drink.”

A stream of condolences. Poor widow queen, whatever. Once the pandemonium of grief formalities calmed down, Minhyuk and Jun paid a visit to Hyejin through proper means for the first time in a long time. She hugged them both like she was welcoming a sibling coming back from war.

“I just want you to know I’m indebted to you both forever.”

“Yes, you are,” Jun faked a retort, “That’s why we have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

She took off her coat to show her pregnant belly which looked like she was due very soon. That was legitimately the only thing that could lift Hyejin’s spirits besides the possibility of some news from James.

“We’re having a baby girl,” Jun flashed a very big smile, “I hope she grows up to be like you. I want her to be as graceful as a queen, strong, and full of passion. Maybe you’ll give her etiquette classes, huh?”

She would. Of course she would. If only Jun was alive to see that, maybe they could even share some laughs about it. On the day of her burial, Hyejin planted a little jasmine shrub by her grave and watered it with plenty of water as well as her tears.

“I'll miss you so much, sweetheart,” she pressed her fingers to her lips and touched the black marble headstone.

“Hyunjin, stay away from your brother. You’ll get sick!”

“But mom!”

After Hyunjin’s birth, Hyejin struggled with postpartum depression for quite a while, courtesy of several back-to-back tragedies. It was actually a miracle she was able to give birth to a healthy baby boy considering everything she had been through. One residual side effect of her dark days was that she was always unintentionally harder on Hyunjin than Chris, but couldn’t help the instant melting when he looked at her with those big eyes and sun rays of hair.

“To your room, sunshine. Please.”

As Hyunjin walked back to his chambers with loud grunts, Hyejin walked towards Chris’ bed where he was buried under his duvet looking like a feverish burrito.

“Can we please go see the ships, mom? Please?”

“Baby, you’re sick.”

“Please?”

She sighed and caved immediately. Her baby boy was a miniature copy of his father—how could she ever say no to him?

“Mina, take care of Hyunjin for me, okay? We’ll be back shortly.”

The mother and son hid in their subject attires and masks to prevent being recognized in public and headed towards The Marina Square. Hyejin didn’t know why Chris had this fascination with the sea and ships in particular, but he just did. Maybe it was some inexplicable hereditary trait from his father, who knew? During their serene visits to the seaside, she frequently found herself thinking of ways to repay Minhyuk and honor Jun. When she had offered to take you in or at least let her help him in some way, Minhyuk unequivocally refused, insisting on raising his baby girl all on his own. All she could do was keep an eye on him and you from afar instead under the disguise of casual visits to the dojo. Much like that afternoon.

“How’s the world’s best brother doing?”

It was one of the rare incidents that she had Chris with her because the boys did not really leave the palace. Every time Minhyuk saw Chris, they were both reminded of a certain someone who was still hidden god knows where.

“Any word from…? You know,” Hyejin discreetly asked and Minhyuk shook his head no as usual. She knew he would let her know the second he heard anything, but… Habits.

She took Chris’ mask off to give him his medicine. Right at that moment, someone she was waiting to see popped up out of nowhere and ran towards Chris at full speed. Minhyuk’s little girl. You. 

Chris’ flushed cheeks entertained you so much that you burst into a giggling fit.

“You look like an apple,” you poked his cheeks, “I really like it.”

“You look like an apple, too,” Chris pointed at your yellow sweater with a bunny on it.

“Apples are red.”

“There are yellow apples, too.”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

When you started squishing his cheeks as an attack, Minhyuk and Hyejin immediately intervened to break up the fight, but something had left you very much surprised.

“Why are you so warm?” you looked at him with gigantic eyes.

“He’s sick, sweetheart,” your father informed you, “Don’t get too close, okay?”

It made you so sad to hear that the apple boy was sick. Although your father told you to stay away, you couldn’t help the urge to hold his hands.

“Don’t worry, okay? My dad knows how to fight. We will beat up your germs and you will be healthy again!”

The parents looked at each other while sharing the exact same fond smile. You kissed the apple boy’s warm cheek out of the blue and waved him goodbye.

“Bye, apple!”

As you were leaving, Hyejin finally mustered enough courage to ask something of Minhyuk she had been wanting to ask for the longest time. 

“Would you consider training your godson?” she requested with the softest voice ever, “It would mean a lot to me. You’re the only father figure he has.”

He affectionately smiled. Of course. Of course he would.

One interesting remnant from that day was that Chris randomly started asking for apples from his mother every now and then. Being reminded of your sweater, Hyejin carved bunnies out of yellow apples for him the first time, and even years later, this habit of his didn’t change—it needed to be yellow bunny apples. Whenever he was eating the fruit, he picked one up and looked at the shape fondly, and every time he did that, it instantly reminded Hyejin of that brief moment you exchanged at the dojo.

It was absurd to even think about it, but what if… What if her treasure had a soulmate of his own? What if he didn’t have to wait a lifetime to meet them? What if he had a chance at the happiness that she never got to have with hers?

And what if that soulmate was you?

She had been keeping an eye on you for years, and as you were growing up, she saw so much of Chris in you that it was borderline ridiculous. She was convinced. She couldn’t explain why, but she was convinced. One minor setback in the way of proving her so-called theory was the possibility of Chris falling in love with someone else until he met you again. That’s why she needed an excuse for you two to cross paths—none of your environments were the same and Minhyuk was naturally refusing to be a part of this mumbo jumbo.

“Minhyuk, please. I know they are meant to be. Just… Just let them meet each other once.”

“You’re out of your goddamn mind, Hyejin. They’re kids.”

“Just once. You’ll see I’m right.”

“No.” 

“Didn’t you believe Jun was your soulmate the second you saw her?”

“Yes, but no one arranged it. If they’re really meant to be as you claim they are, they will meet each other anyway. There’s no point in forcing destiny down someone’s throat. Let it go.”

They will meet each other anyway.

Considering everything Hyejin had been through up until that moment, it seemed like too much of a gamble to leave everything to sheer luck.

NEXT CHAPTER»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

I apologize for the monstrosity. I didn't want to drag this update any longer so I decided to divide the original chapter I planned in half. I'll be back soon!

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to share your thoughts with me in reblogs, tags, or in my inbox. As long as you're kind, that is.

-R. (CB97%)

📢Regarding tagging: Please do not ask me to tag you if you won't be meaningfully engaging with my work. Additionally, I do not tag ageless and/or blank blogs, nor can I tag you if your blog is listed as "invisible" / if you've changed your URL and didn't let me know. Thank you for your cooperation in advance!

🔖Story taglist: @mal-lunar-28; @rindomo ; @midsoulz

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24 TO 25 (18+!) — an interactive christmas story

❕HOW TO PLAY (important): Take your time, make yourself comfortable with a beverage of your choice or some snacks, read the story under the cut at your own pace. You, Y/N, are actually part of the story, starring as the main character and it’s your task to make decisions on how the story ends. Choices will be written in bold and have links attached to them, which will lead you to the next chapters of the story (based on your decision).

📖 SYNOPSIS: Like last year you spend the 24th and 25th December in a cosy winter cottage located in the snowy mountains. Being a part of your big friend group, it’s easy to lose focus when so many people are gathered together, all of them having a special connection with you. But which one of them will be your Christmas miracle? It’s up to you to decide!

📁 CONTENT INFO: ot8 x afab reader (not at the same time), all the imaginable relationship tropes involved (📎 picture for reference), fluff, smut and some angst

📂 WARNING: smut <including unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (m + f receiving), fingering handjob, piv, creampie, facial, body cumshot, praise, different name calling such as baby, doll, angel, slut, princess, some possessiveness, semi public sex and accidentally getting caught, slightly tipsy but consensual sex>, alcohol consumption, mention of breakup and emotional discussions, being inside cramped spaces

🗒 WORD COUNT: approx. 5K (or 15K in total if you re-read)

Have fun and let me know who you ended up with! 💭

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“Where did you put the flour, Lixie?” Minho says, already getting on your nerves with his voice. It’s not as if his voice sounds annoying per se, but he for sure is.

“It should be in the upper cupboard.”

Minho sometimes visits you, after all he’s close with your roommate Felix and everyone around here – except for you. It’s totally fine to be in his presence for a few hours, but staying here in the winter cottage for two full days, from 24 to 25 – your friend group is expecting a lot from you.

It’s always been like this and you don’t even know why you can stand him, even though the feeling is mutual. Something about his behaviour, the general tone in his voice makes you want to jump and lets shivers run down your spine. Besides that, Minho uses every chance he gets to tease you or even make fun of you, being all so surprised once you return those approaches with the same spite.

The worst thing, however, is that he’s incredibly attractive. You can’t deny that. After all you have two eyes located in your head and you’d be a liar to deny his attractiveness.

There’s just something about him – the way his face looks without any tension in his muscles, that makes you swoon. Never in even a hundred years would you admit that. You’re sure, Minho would turn all this into a joke.

And that’s when you’re back to hating him again, once you get reminded of his persona. But ruining the mood is the last thing you want, so you decide to endure Minho and not engage in any of his bickering.

Easier said than done, especially when Felix asks you to join them in their afternoon baking session and you really want to but once Minho shoots you a glare, rolling his eyes so obviously, you decline.

“I’ll see what the others are up to, have fun.”

So, instead, you now approach your best friend Jisung in the living room. He’s focused on winning a race against Changbin and the first place is within reach – until the latter throws a blue shell on Yoshi aka Jisung. The younger one grunts, trying to suppress a few expletives since he notices you’re now sitting on the couch as well.

“Y/N, you should play with us once we start a new round,” Changbin offers. You’re not as close with him as you are with Jisung, but Changbin is your brother’s best friend. Your brother who called in sick today, unable to join the group. But Changbin makes up for it, filling every room with his good mood, as if it’s contagious.

“Alright,” you reply, grabbing a controller. Scooted between the two boys now, you give your best to show off your skills – Jisung and Changbin must have forgotten how much of a pro you are when it comes to Mario Kart. Back in the high school days, the two of them and your brother used to play this game all day, especially during the winter holidays.

You’re a bit sad now, he’s not with you today but also a bit relieved. You could swear, both Changbin and Jisung have been behaving a bit differently since they found out but you don’t want to read too much into it. It’s just that they seem to seek your attention but it’s probably due to making you feel comfortable despite being around all the other guys, especially since you’re not that close to all of them.

There’s Minho, we’ve analysed this already. But the fact they decided to invite Hyunjin as well leaves a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. You haven’t seen him in weeks or to be more specific – since the both of you broke up. But you’ve promised your friend group the weird tension between the tall one and you won’t have an effect on the group dynamic, that’s the last thing you want.

Then, another person you’re not that close to is Jeongin. He’s the best friend of Seungmin – your neighbour and the owner of this little retreat cottage – so it is understandable he invited him. Jeongin is much of a shy, introverted boy and you can’t read him yet. But he still seems nice judging from what you’ve heard and the few little chit chats you’ve shared.

“A blue shell again?! Dude–“ Jisung let’s out in annoyance, when Changbin shoots the item at him, making Jisung’s car fall off the rainbow. The elder chuckles and you join him. It’s always so much fun and way too easy to tease Jisung.

Once the two boys get into a fight about slipping on each other’s banana peels, they get less and less aware how you’re secretly winning this race. Severely annoyed about your skills now – it’s the fourth track you’re winning in a row – they decide to play another game you’re not as interested in anymore.

“Does anyone want some mulled wine?” Chan asks, when he approaches the living room.

“Yes, please, I need it,” you say, already standing on your feet again as you follow Chan in the kitchen. He’s the one you’ve known the longest, since the both of you grew up in the same neighbourhood. With your mother’s being childhood friends it had been predictable that you both were destined to become the same.

“You alright, angel?” Chan asks, making sure you’re comfortable like he always does.

“Yeah– don’t worry, I’m just a bit… confused how to act around Hyunjin, you know?”

If there’s someone in this group who knows you best, it’s Chan for sure. Even though on this day, you would consider Jisung your closest friend, Chan still knows you best, going through thick and thin throughout your life. He’s like your other half, already reading based on your expression that something is wrong, when you don’t even realise it yet.

“It was a bad idea inviting him, wasn’t it? I wanted to convince the others not to do it but–“

“No, no. Honestly it’s like part of totally getting over him, you know? And apart from that I don’t want to drive a wedge between the group and us.”

Your friend nods, softly stroking your back with his fingers and your breath hitches for a second. Chan has always been very touchy and it’s always been normal, nothing wrong about it. It still is but for some reason it makes your head spin today – possibly because you’re talking about an intimate topic, something your heart is too close to, that makes you vulnerable.

“Red, rosé or white?” Chan asks, grabbing a glas that will withstand the heat from the upper cabinet.

“Wow, what a variety. I’d like the white wine.”

Felix and Minho are still busy in another part of the spacious kitchen, totally in their own world, talking about different pastries or something. Luckily, the latter hasn’t noticed you yet.

Chan pours the steaming hot liquid into the glass, before he gently hands it to you. “Be careful,” he adds. You slightly nod, cooling the wine by blowing some air at the surface, until it’s possible to take a sip from it. Both the temperature and alcohol help your body to heat up even though it’s cosy enough in the cottage anyway.

“I will get the snacks ready,” Seungmin announces when he enters the kitchen, half of the guests now gathered here. Once Minho turns around he shoots an annoyed glare your way but you decide to ignore it. In the corner of your eye you witness Chan shaking his head at the childish behaviour but he doesn’t push further.

“Chan and Jeongin, could you perhaps get the dinner ready?” The owner of the house adds, before he turns around to you. “Y/N, you can prepare the table with– oh, sorry. I already assigned Hyunjin with that task but I can just switch with you and–“

“No, no. It’s fine, don’t worry,” you reply, watching Seungmin’s face blush in a pretty shade of red because of the little mistake he made when he carefully planned this evening. Not carefully enough.

“No– really we can–“

“Minnie, it’s okay. We’re both able to be in a room together, okay?”

Seungmin nods, whilst feeling his face heat up even more when he notices the nickname you use. Your neighbour has always had a weak spot for you since he met you for the first time. He can still recall it – over a year ago, when you moved into the empty and unoccupied room in Felix’s apartment on a snowy winter afternoon.

He helped you carry all your boxes upstairs back then and since he’s always been close to your roommate, it’s not rare for him to visit you or invite the both of you over. You’d consider him a friend – maybe not on the same level as Felix, Jisung, Changbin and certainly not Chan, but he’s fun to be around. Maybe a little shy in the beginning but he’s got the best random and most sudden punchlines up his sleeve, always managing to make the whole group laugh.

Besides that, he’s a good soul. A true good soul, offering all of you to stay at his family’s winter cottage in the woods, close to the mountains and planning the whole holiday – the second time in a row. You’ll be forever grateful for this, which is another reason you just comply and join Hyunjin in the living room, who’s already busy preparing the table.

For a solid five minutes neither of you talk, even though your ex boyfriend gives you a warm smile from time to time – just a small gesture to approach you or at least make the situation less awkward. Until you witness him bite his plump lips – a habit he’s always had and a sign he’s contemplating what to do next.

“How are you?” It’s so sudden but it’s not sudden at all. The tension is thick, so thick you’re sure you could cut it with the knife Chan is currently using in the kitchen to prepare the vegetables and meat.

“Fine, really. What about you?”

It’s been weeks since the both of you spoke and whenever you look into Hyunjin’s dark eyes again, you’re immediately hit with a rush of sadness, nostalgia and hope. A weird combination it is. But it’s the best way to describe what his presence awakens inside of you.

“Yeah, okay. I’m okay. How’s your job? Did you get the promotion?”

The casual talk feels good. It keeps you distracted from the reason your long term relationship has ended and you’re glad to think of something else for once, when you look into his eyes.

“No– I didn’t. They actually fired a lot of employees due to increasing prices and taxes and all. I’m glad I was able to stay there.”

Hyunjin nods, surprised and you can see the sincere empathy on his face. He’s encouraged you a lot when the both of you still were together and he’d have continued if you hadn’t cut off the contact. But now, almost one and a half months later, he knows it’s what the both of you need to maybe develop a stable platonic relationship again.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Maybe it’ll work out some other time.”

That’s when the conversation dies out after, but it’s not awkward in the slightest. You’re both busy preparing the bowls, plates and cutlery anyway, waiting for Chan and Jeongin to bring the meals to the table. A few minutes later, everything is served and the whole group gathers around the delicious scent, ready to eat.

You’re granted with the dishes of the year, really. Chan has always been quite famous when it comes to his cooking skills, even at a young age of a preteen he was interested in trying out different kinds of foods already. But you haven’t been aware of Jeongin’s secret talent and it makes you eager to learn more about him.

He really seems like a pleasant person, especially when the both of you are engaged in a conversation, sitting across from each other.

“You haven’t watched the movie?” The youngest asks. His eyes are filled with hope and he looks so adorable. He’s got the right amount of cuteness in his persona but something tells you that’s not all there is and you’re dying to find out more about the stranger that happens to be your neighbour’s friend.

“No, not yet. But it’s on Netflix, so maybe after dinner…”

“We definitely should– guys can you believe–“

“We know, Innie,” Jisung says, “we’ve been trying to convince Y/N to watch it with us for the past years and it’s a miracle you didn’t even have to put effort in it.”

That is true. Usually, you’re not in the mood to watch movies except for the ones you’ve seen a million times before. It’s just exhausting these days, focusing on something for more than twenty minutes.

“Maybe she’s interested in our maknae,” Changbin teases from the other side, sending a seductive glance in your direction, his eyebrows wiggling in a way that turns the whole situation into a joke. You scoff and roll your eyes at the assumption.

When you’re done with that, you witness two sad looks from the other end of the table – both Hyunjin’s and Chan’s posture shrinks at the thesis which your brother’s best friend has thrown into the middle of the room. You get that it irritates your ex boyfriend – but Chan? It’s probably just his protective nature again, not wanting anyone to make you feel bad or embarrassed.

“Let’s just watch the movie, shall we?”

And thats how you find your big group gathered around in front of the TV. Felix joins you on your left, cuddled together underneath a soft blanket. The other side is occupied by Jisung and Changbin and you already curse yourself for choosing that specific spot, knowing the both will be unable to shut their mouths for more than ten seconds.

Chan is still looking a bit confused but he’s chosen a cosy spot in front of you, kinda huddling against your lower legs. From time to time, he sneaks his palm in your direction – non-verbally asking for snacks like a dad would do on a long car drive.

The movie starts and the plot catches your attention within the first few scenes – a rather rare matter. Usually, it’s hard for you to get into them and you curse yourself for not watching this one earlier.

“I’ve told you so,” Jisung whispers in your ear and it lets shivers run down your spine – the good kind. It’s nothing new, being so close to him. After all, you’ve been best friends since the last year of high school but you blame it both on the wine and the atmosphere that his sheer presence irritates you – in a good way.

All while Felix is snuggled up on your other side, his fingers entangled in your own. Since you’re both roommates, you tend to do movie (or rather Netflix or Anime) nights quite often. He’s by far the most touch starved friend of yours, always looking for excuses to be near you but you’ve always understood it as a way of showing his platonic affection for you.

“Do you enjoy it?” He asks and you nod, squeezing his hand tight. His other arm embraces you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him. But his next words make your breath hitch and you could swear your heart beat performs a double-time flow for a few bars.

“You look really pretty tonight.”

Instantly feeling your face heat up, you just smile and thank him for the compliment, unable to reply something else. Of course, you’ve viewed Felix in a far from friendship light before – after all you are roommates (quoting the famous vine here). But that’s all there is. Sure, he’s obviously attractive but you wouldn’t risk your cosy home because of an impulsive decision.

You try to push the thoughts aside and concentrate on the movie in front of you instead, until the next one of your friends decides to give it a shot. What is going on with the boys tonight?!

“You know,” Changbin starts, still sitting on your right, but speaking at a volume the others aren’t able to hear, “I’m glad your brother didn’t attend the party. It makes it easier for me to approach you.”

You gulp down the lump that has been built in your throat, feeling your heart racing at an even faster speed than the one you used at the Mario Kart track earlier. Head spinning and mind absolutely losing it, you slightly tilt your head so you’re able to look at him.

“Is that so?” The sudden confidence of yours surprises you.

“Hm, I’d love to spend more time with you.”

You don’t answer right away but that’s not a problem to your brother’s best friend at all – Changbin’s intention is to lure you with a few words, a simple phrase filled with promises and ideas. And even if he wanted to add more, Jisung is the faster one to talk to you now.

“You should have listened to me for once, you know. I knew you’d like the movie. I know what’s good for you, Y/N.”

Is it suddenly forty degrees here or where’s the heat coming from? How are three of your friends simultaneously hitting on you or whatever they’re doing right now? Did they just wait for some quiet time in the cottage? The idea lets your heart pick up its pace even further and you feel yourself overwhelmed, not having expected the evening to take such a turn.

But you’re reading too much into it – Minho, for instance, is still ignoring you like he usually does. What you don’t catch is your so-called enemy ogling you from time to time whenever you don’t look and especially when Felix scoots another centimetre closer to you.

Besides sitting far away from you, Hyunjin shoots a glare in your direction from time to time, thinking he’s not as obvious as he actually is. But you don’t blame him. After all, your eyes always meet, indicating you're looking at him as well.

What does surprise you is Chan being so close to you, apparently turning around from time to time to look at you. It’s suspicious how many times he’s asked for more of your snacks in the past few minutes, earning a playful sentence from Jisung who’s just as busy getting your attention.

At this point you can’t focus on anything happening in the movie anymore and you’ve given up, no idea what’s going on. Luckily, a few minutes later the last scene ends and you tell the others you’ll need a moment, heading towards the bathroom located upstairs.

A splash of cold water helps you stop being so delusional for a second and you would touch some grass if the snow wouldn’t hide the ground outside. Once you’ve toddled down the stairs again, you’re met with the guys still sitting in their previous seats, but a discussion about what to do next has begun.

“Now that we have the whole house to ourselves, do you guys know what we should do?” Jisung giggles, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Seven guys and Y/N– I’ve never expected you to be into gangbangs, Jisung,” Changbin states, quite in shock but partly unserious.

The younger sighs, a bit annoyed his friend is turning his idea into a joke, “No, man, we can play hide and seek in this huge house.”

Men are so easy to impress. You get aware of it once again, when the group turns into a cheering crowd and everyone is getting up from their seats. Now assembled together, you start playing rock, paper, scissors to determine the seeker.

Minho is the lucky one and you hope so dearly he doesn’t find you at the first try. This man turns everything into a big joke that involves you and his ability to defeat you in whatever small game.

“So… should I start?” He asks, as everyone is waiting at the starting line, ready to sprint to a possible hiding place. When Minho positions himself in front of the huge wall in the living room, his eyes hidden behind his palms and his blocked view directed to the stone barrier, his back looking at the group, he starts counting.

Everyone instantly rushes away from the spot, a few giggles erupting through the room.

It’s your first decision to make now, quickly.

Will you sprint up the stairs or stay on the ground floor?

If you enjoyed the story, please consider reblogging it and sharing your thoughts with me! I’d appreciate it a lot! :) You can also buy me a coffee here, if you feel like it. Please don’t ever feel obliged to do so, but I’d highly appreciate it!

TAGLIST: @heelover5 @chimmycupcake @avyskai @chrissybang @svintsandghosts @hwan-g @straywrds @abiaswreck @thisisnotstraight88 @jeyelleohe @skzho @streetlight-s @knowleeknow @septicrebel @staaa96 @myprwttyhan @skzgallll @lotus-dly @bmnyy @scarsnfevers @sstarryoong @abby-grace @acciocriativity @moasworld @janehrt @brit97 @skizzel @kuleo26 @xhazmania

© j-0ne25 2022 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

— comfort with changbin ❤️‍🩹

🏷️ anti-burnout hurt/comfort; dashes of angst and fluff.

changbin always watches you work even if he doesn’t know what you’re doing. it’s his hobby. whatever you do, he’s silently cheering you on.

so when something occurs and throws you off-course, he notices it before you do.

he can’t multitask, so the moment he sees your eyebrows furrow more than it ever did, he keeps his eyes trained on nothing but you.

he analyzes your body language well. changbin sees the same pattern he saw before: you stretch, pat your hand on your head, sigh, and squint at the laptop screen before diving back into the stressor.

changbin hums your favorite song and hopes that it subconsciously calms you down. it doesn’t. you’re as laser-focused as he is, except you’re only making it worse by refusing to step away.

you repeat the routine of stretching and sighing until you sniff. with your back turned towards him and your face away from his view, he can’t see the tear that runs down your cheek, but he senses it faster than you.

it’s his cue to run to your side.

you could protest against his offers for a hug and kiss, you could say that you need to focus just this once, and you could promise that you’ll get back to him, but you clearly can’t do all of that when you can’t even finish the task due to the overwhelming stress.

changbin’s a little stressed too, considering he has no clue on what to do and he doesn’t even understand the logistics of the problem you ran into, but he’s there.

he sits there, by your side, with an arm always ready to pat your back. he sits there until you hiccup and lean into his warmth. that’s when he hugs you, shushes you, kisses your tears while telling you that it’s okay. you got this.

you tell him that the software keeps freezing, your task is stupid, and you simply lost the passion to keep working on something you thought you liked. he nods, listens, and shares bits of advice when you finally ask him for it. he rubs your back while humming your favorite song again, rocking you back and forth ever so gently in his hold. his hand pats your head.

you stop crying when he meets eyes with your frozen laptop and curses at it in baby talk. even if you think you feel disgusting for crying and laughing, your giggles alone are all he needs to feel lighter. he cracks a joke, then another, and offers to be your late-night barista for feel-good drinks.

he’s your cheerleader, and he’s here.

only fools fall for you | hyunjin sm au

synopsis:

you’re excited to finally get a new start at university, majoring in the thing you love the most; dancing, and you’re positive that absolutely nothing can ruin the quintessential college experience for you.

that is, until you run into your lifelong rival, hwang hyunjin and to make things worse…you can’t seem to get rid of him.

pairing: dancer! hyunjin x dancer! reader

fic type: social media au + written parts

genre: college au, angst, enemies to lovers, smut, mature content, friends with benefits, some fluff, slowburn (!)

status: complete

if you’d like to support me and my writing, you can buy me a coffee here! thank you so much.

EDIT: some links are broken or missing, and i am currently fixing these! masterlist is currently incomplete. <\3

masterlist:

playlist

yns squad

hyunjins squad

1. a fresh start

2. not a cat, minho

3. i need new friends

4. number one fan

5. a hopefully hot boy

6. bane of my existence

7. i blame felix

8. a beautiful dancer

9. did you just defend hyunjin

10. be more passionate

11. the enemy you know

12. should i be offended

13. is this even legal

14. the bar is so low

15. not a bad kisser

16. ready, ready baby

17. the morning after

18. what happened last night

19. showstopping

20. being sick

21. im gonna kill him

22. a pretty face

23. dramatic entrance

24. distracted

25. communication can help

26. the world would be a better place

27. get back at him

28. what i want

29. nothing to hide

30. you’ve matured

31. beautiful face but a terrible personality

32. one and done

33. you sound whipped

34. i want you to

35. does this make up for it

36. don’t say no

37. play with fire

38. weather forecast, wet

39. more important than ramen

40. you up?

41. not fighting anymore

42. english lit can wait

43. am i allowed to kiss you

44. red lights

45. the view

46. corn dogs

47. chaeprincess

48. i hate people

49. looking out for hyunjin

50. talk to yeji

51. how can you be sure ?

52. happy birthday han

53. everything okay ?

54. what happened in high school

55. happy for you

56. safe space

57. what’s kkami

58. yeji knows

59. moving on

60. you need to get out

61. unforgettable night

62. daisy

63. hatred is a strong word

64. not afraid to show it

65. hopeless romantic

66. not your business

67. have faith

68. little star

69. epilogue part 1 : the world is a better place

70. epilogue part 2: look where that got us