Bound By Duty (Bang Chan)
Bound by Duty (Bang Chan)
~~~ I have fought battles, braved storms, and faced the darkest nights, but nothing has ever made my heart race like the way you look at me. You are my greatest victory, my sweetest surrender, and the only home I will ever need. ~~~
Synopsis: You are caught between your duty to the kingdom and your forbidden love for the king’s highest knight, Sir Bang Chan. As tensions between rival realms rise and the threat of war looms ever closer, your dangerous romance ignites like wildfire, risking everything you hold dear.
Word Count: 23k
Tw/Cw: MINORS DNI. NSFW, cursing, unprotected sex (no glove, no love), bang chan is a simp, one bed trope (sorry, not sorry), fingering, slight dom!chan, virgin!reader, slight violence, death threats, kidnapping, kinda slow burn??? (like they love each other, but duty comes first kinda thing.
Note: I literally poured my heart and soul into this, so enjoy!
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You stood at the highest balcony of the castle, the cool evening breeze whispering through your silk gown. Below, the kingdom stretched for miles, the golden fields of wheat swaying under the dying light of the sun. From this height, the world looked peaceful.
But you knew better.
The halls of the castle echoed with tension. War loomed on the horizon like a shadow creeping ever closer, dark and inevitable. Scouts returned with reports of enemy forces gathering at the borders, their numbers growing by the day. Whispers of betrayal lingered in the corridors, and even the bravest of knights no longer spoke of victory—only survival.
And yet, amidst it all, the king still found time to plan your future.
Your betrothal had been finalized weeks ago, a political move disguised as duty. Prince Taeyong of the Northern Territories was to be your husband, a man you had never met but whose name was carved into the fate of the kingdom. Your marriage would solidify an alliance, combining armies, fortifying borders. A necessity, your father had said. A blessing, your maid had reassured.
A prison, you thought.
You gripped the railing, your knuckles turning white. You had never known love—true love—but you knew enough to recognize what this was not. The weight of expectation crushed you, the knowledge that your life was not your own. You were a pawn in a game you had never asked to play, your heart a sacrifice in the name of power.
Your mother had warned you years ago, when you were just a child clinging to the idea of fairytales and freedom. A princess does not choose whom she loves. She chooses what is best for the kingdom.
But what if what was best for the kingdom was not best for you?
The sound of armored footsteps in the courtyard below drew you from your thoughts. Your tilted your head, watching as the knights gathered for their evening drills, their swords gleaming under the torchlight. They moved with precision, bodies honed for war, minds sharpened for battle. They would be the first to ride out when war finally arrived. The first to die.
Your stomach twisted.
You turned away from the sight, stepping back into the dim glow of your chambers. The room was grand, adorned with silken drapes and gold-threaded tapestries, but it felt suffocating. Every inch of it a reminder of the life you could not escape.
A life where your heart did not belong to you.
A life where you could not love who you truly loved.
And soon, a life where war would decide everything.
That night, you lay awake in your chambers, staring at the ceiling as the candlelight flickered against the stone walls. Sleep refuses to come. It never does, not when your mind is a battlefield of thoughts you cannot silence.
Tomorrow, you will meet your betrothed.
The thought makes your chest tighten.
Taeyong of the North. A name you’ve only heard in whispers, spoken with either fear or grudging respect. A man known more for his conquests than his kindness. His kingdom is built on war, his soldiers bred for battle. He is the kind of ruler your father admires—ruthless, cunning, a man who does not flinch at the thought of bloodshed.
Will he see you as anything more than a transaction? A pawn in this grand game of power?
You turn onto your side, fingers curling into the silk sheets. Somewhere beyond the castle walls, the world carries on. In the villages, merchants barter, children play in the streets, lovers hold hands beneath the moonlight. A life you will never know.
A soft knock at your door makes you sit up. It’s late—too late for a servant.
“Come in,” you call, smoothing out the wrinkles in your nightgown.
The heavy wooden door creaks open, and a familiar figure steps inside.
Sir Bang Chan.
He enters without hesitation, though he removes his helmet as a sign of respect. His dark hair is damp with sweat from the evening drills, his tunic slightly loose at the collar. He is a knight—one of the finest in your father’s service. A warrior who belongs on the battlefield, not in the chambers of a princess.
And yet, here he stands.
“Your Highness,” he greets, his voice steady. But there is something in his eyes—something he masks well but can never quite hide. A storm brewing beneath the surface.
“Sir Bang Chan,” you reply, keeping your voice composed. “It’s late.”
“I know,” he admits. He hesitates for a moment before stepping further inside, closing the door behind him. “I needed to see you.”
Your heart stutters.
He shouldn’t be here. You both know it. But the truth is, you want him here. More than you can ever admit.
“What is it?” you ask, though you already know.
His jaw clenches. “The war is moving faster than we anticipated. Scouts reported enemy forces less than two days from the border.”
The war. The ever-looming war.
“And my betrothal?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He exhales sharply. “It will happen. The king insists it must, to secure the alliance.”
A silence stretches between you.
You look at him then, truly look at him. The way his hands curl into fists at his sides. The way his shoulders tense as if he’s holding back words he can never say.
The way his eyes—so dark, so full of unspoken things—linger on your lips before snapping back to your gaze.
Something inside you cracks.
“What if I don’t want this?” you whisper.
Chan lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You think I don’t know that?” He steps closer, just a fraction, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating off him. “Do you think I want to watch you be given away like a prize to a man who doesn’t deserve you?”
Your breath hitches. “Then stop it.”
His eyes darken. “You know I can’t.”
Because duty binds you both. Because love—true love—is a privilege neither of you can afford.
But in that moment, with war on the horizon and your fate slipping through your fingers, you wonder.
Will you let the world decide for you?
Or will you dare to defy it?
The silence between you is thick, suffocating. The weight of everything—war, duty, desire—hangs in the air like a storm waiting to break.
Chan stands close, too close. The dim candlelight casts shadows across his face, sharpening the angles of his jaw, the determination in his eyes. He has always been composed, disciplined. But right now, you see the cracks beneath the surface.
He is unraveling.
And so are you.
“Tell me to walk away,” he says, his voice low, rough with something dangerous.
You swallow hard. “You know I can’t.”
His eyes flicker with something unreadable, something raw. His hands clench at his sides like he’s holding himself back from doing something reckless, something irreversible.
“Then what do you want me to do?” he asks, frustration bleeding into his tone. “Watch you marry him? Stand by as he takes you away, knowing you’ll never be happy? Knowing you—” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening.
You don’t dare breathe.
“Say it,” you whisper.
He shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N.”
But it’s already too late.
Because you’ve seen it—the way he looks at you, the way his walls crack when he is near you. You’ve felt it in every stolen glance, every fleeting touch, every moment where the world fades and it’s just you and him.
“I can’t do this,” he mutters, turning away, running a hand through his dark hair.
And just like that, the moment shatters.
The reality of your situation crashes down on you like a tidal wave. Tomorrow, you will meet your betrothed. Tomorrow, you will be bound to a man you do not love. Tomorrow, this—you and him—will no longer exist.
Unless…
Your breath comes faster as a reckless thought takes hold.
“Come with me.”
Chan freezes.
Slowly, he turns, his eyes searching yours, as if he isn’t sure he heard you right. “What?”
“Come with me,” you repeat, your heart pounding. “Let’s leave. Tonight.”
His expression darkens, a mixture of shock, anger, and something dangerously close to hope. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “You don’t.”
“I do.” You step forward, reaching for his hand before you can second-guess yourself. The contact sends a jolt up your spine, his warmth grounding you, anchoring you. “If I stay, I will be nothing more than a prisoner in a golden cage. I will marry a man I don’t love. I will be sent away to a foreign land where I will never see you again.” Your grip tightens. “And you will go to war. You will fight for a kingdom that does not care about you, a king who sees you as nothing more than a weapon.”
His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t pull away.
“You’ll die for them,” you whisper. “And I will live a life I never wanted.”
Chan’s breathing is uneven now, his fingers twitching against yours. He is breaking, you can see it.
And you want him to.
Because you need him to.
“Please,” you murmur.
For a moment, he doesn’t move. The weight of the world sits between you, the consequences of this decision pressing down like a blade against your throats.
Then—
A sharp knock at the door.
You both jolt apart.
“Your Highness,” comes the voice of a guard. “Your father requests your presence immediately.”
Your stomach drops.
Chan steps back, his expression shifting instantly—cold, unreadable, the perfect soldier once again.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he says quietly. But there’s something different in his voice now, something uncertain.
You nod, though you aren’t sure if later will ever come.
Because as you leave your chambers, you can’t shake the feeling that something is about to change.
Something big.
And it might already be too late to stop it.
You walk down the hall in silence, the weight of the guard's footsteps echoing in the stone corridor, a cold reminder of the world outside these walls. Your pulse still races, each beat a reminder of the words you almost spoke, the decisions you almost made.
You reach the throne room, your heart pounding in your chest. The doors swing open with a heavy groan, and the chill of the grand chamber greets you. Your father, the king, sits at his throne, his sharp eyes trained on you as you approach. He is always so composed, a king who never shows his hand. But tonight, the tension is palpable. The air is thick with something that doesn’t feel like the usual state affairs.
"You’ve kept me waiting, Y/N," your father’s voice booms. The power in it is unmistakable, a force that has shaped your entire life.
“I apologize, Father,” you reply, lowering your head in respect, though every fiber of your being wants to rebel, to scream that you’re not ready for what’s coming.
The king’s gaze softens for a fleeting second, before he speaks again, his tone darker now. “Taeyong arrives tomorrow. He is the key to securing our kingdom’s future. The alliance will strengthen us against the northern tribes. Do you understand?”
You nod, trying to keep your emotions in check, though inside, you feel as if your world is unraveling.
“I understand, Father.”
But you don’t. How could you? How could anyone expect you to understand a future where your heart is chained to a man you do not love?
Your father leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “This is your duty. Our kingdom’s fate rests on this union. And I will not have you defy me, do you hear me?”
You swallow, trying to suppress the trembling in your hands. “Yes, Father.”
The king stands, his movement commanding the room. “Good. Tomorrow will be the beginning of your new life, Y/N. And you will be ready.”
He steps toward you, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, and for a moment, the weight of his expectations crushes you. You want to tell him how you feel, how the weight of this impending marriage feels like a death sentence, but you don’t.
Because in this moment, you realize something that terrifies you: You don’t have a choice.
The doors swing open again, and a guard enters with urgent news. Your father’s face darkens as the man speaks, his words clipped and quick.
“Your Highness, scouts have reported an enemy force approaching from the south. It’s only a matter of days before they arrive at the border.”
The blood drains from your face.
War is closer than ever. The looming dread that’s been following you for weeks now feels more real, more immediate.
Your father looks at you for a long moment, his expression hard. “This alliance with Taeyong must succeed. It’s the only way to secure the kingdom’s future. If we cannot unite, we risk everything.”
The weight of his words hits you with an almost physical force. But as you look at him—your king, your father—you can’t help but feel trapped. The walls are closing in on you. Tomorrow, your life will change, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
The decision you made earlier, in the quiet of your chambers, resurfaces.
Come with me, Chan.
The thought pulses in your mind, frantic and urgent, like a lifeline thrown in the middle of a storm.
But now, as you stand in your father’s throne room, that same thought is drowned out by the roar of impending war. The weight of your duty presses down on you again. The reality of what it means to be a princess—the weight of a crown you never asked for, the price of your freedom—has never been clearer.
You want to run. You want to flee from this life, from this kingdom, from everything that has been forced upon you.
But as the door closes behind you, you realize that escape is a dream you cannot afford.
The next morning, as you prepare for the meeting with Taeyong, you can’t shake the image of Chan’s eyes—the way they softened when he stood in front of you last night, the way he hesitated when you asked him to run. He’s a warrior, yes, but there’s a softness in him, something that makes you wonder if he, too, feels the pull of something more than duty.
But your duty to your people will always come first.
Or will it?
The next morning, the castle is alive with preparations for the arrival of Taeyong. Servants rush through the hallways, the scent of fresh bread and roasting meat filling the air as you walk through the corridors, your mind a storm of conflicting thoughts.
You’re in your chambers, standing before a mirror, watching as your maid adjusts the lace at your collar. The weight of the dress feels heavier today, like the fabric is pulling you further into a life you never chose.
“Your Highness,” the maid says softly, her voice hesitant, “may I ask… Are you feeling well today? You seem… troubled.”
You force a smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine, Bom. Just a little tired.”
She doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t press further. As she finishes your attire, the door opens without a knock, and in steps your father’s trusted advisor, Lord Hwang. He’s a tall man with sharp features, always impeccably dressed, his eyes cold and calculating.
“Princess Y/N,” he greets, bowing slightly. “It’s almost time for you to meet the Prince. Your father is expecting you at the gates.”
You nod stiffly, your stomach tightening. “Thank you, Lord Hwang. I’ll be there shortly.”
As he leaves, you can’t help but glance out the window, your thoughts drifting back to the night before. Bang Chan’s words echo in your mind, the conflict in his voice when you asked him to leave with you. You hadn’t even told him you were serious—he didn’t have the luxury of hope in this world, not like you did.
“Come with me,” you whisper to yourself, as though saying the words aloud might make them real. But you know it’s a fantasy, an impossible dream. There’s no escaping this.
You step into the hallway, where a line of soldiers stand at attention, their eyes straight ahead. None of them make eye contact with you, but you can feel their gazes—cold, unfeeling, like you’re nothing more than a princess they serve, not a woman with her own desires.
As you walk towards the gates, the familiar path feels different. The walls seem taller, the ground harder beneath your feet. When you reach the courtyard, the sight of Taeyong’s approaching party sends a shiver down your spine.
He is tall, his figure imposing. His black armor glints in the morning sun as he dismounts from his horse. His eyes, cold as steel, lock onto yours as you approach.
“Princess Y/N,” he says, his voice low and commanding, though there is a hint of a smile on his lips. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
You force yourself to smile, nodding. “The honor is mine, Prince Taeyong.”
His smile widens as he steps forward, towering over you. “Please, call me Taeyong. The title of prince is far too formal for what’s about to come.”
Your stomach turns at his words, but you don’t let it show. You extend your hand for him to kiss, a gesture of formality you’ve done a thousand times, though this time, it feels like a betrayal. His lips brush your knuckles, and the sensation sends a cold chill through you.
Behind you, your father steps forward, clapping Taeyong on the back. “Welcome, my friend,” King Taemin says. “We are grateful for your presence. Let’s discuss the future over breakfast.”
As the two men walk side by side, speaking in low voices about alliances and kingdoms, you find yourself lingering behind, the weight of your decision heavy on your heart.
You can feel eyes on you. Cold, judgmental eyes.
And then, a voice.
“Princess.”
You turn quickly, and your heart leaps in your chest.
Bang Chan.
He’s standing near the stables, his armor gleaming under the sun, his stance rigid as always. But his eyes are locked on yours, filled with something unreadable. You quickly look away, not wanting to be seen staring.
“Sir Bang Chan,” you say, your voice steadier than you feel. “What are you doing here?”
He steps forward, his eyes scanning the courtyard before meeting yours again. “I was sent to keep watch. The enemy could strike at any moment, and I need to be prepared.”
You nod, but there’s a coldness between you now, a distance you both refuse to cross. You can see it in his eyes—the same conflict you feel. Duty. Honor. And the secret longing neither of you can admit.
“You should return to your post,” you say, forcing a tight smile. “I’m sure my father will want you by his side.”
Chan doesn’t move, his gaze never leaving yours. “Princess, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Your heart skips a beat. “What is it?”
He takes a deep breath, his fists clenching at his sides. “I can’t keep pretending that this is all just about duty. I care for you more than I should. And I can’t watch you marry him.”
His words hit you like a physical blow, and you feel as though you’ve been punched in the gut. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You want to say something, anything, but the fear of what might happen next silences you.
“You think I don’t know?” you whisper, taking a step closer. “You think I haven’t thought about it every day? The way I feel about you…”
You pause, your heart racing. “But we can’t. We can’t be together. The world won’t allow it. We have our places, our roles. You’re a knight. I’m a princess. And I’m about to marry a man I don’t love.”
Chan’s eyes darken, but his expression is pained. “Then why are we standing here?”
You swallow hard, your voice shaking. “Because there’s nothing we can do. The war is coming, and everything will change whether we’re ready or not.”
He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. “Then let it change. Let it.”
You shake your head, the tears you’ve been holding back threatening to spill. “It’s too late. The kingdom needs me. My father needs me. And Taeyong—he’s part of the plan.”
Chan looks at you for a long moment, his face torn with emotion. Then, without another word, he turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd of soldiers preparing for the worst.
You stand there for a long time, the words left unsaid hanging in the air, heavy and suffocating. The reality of the choices before you presses down on your chest, and for the first time, you wonder if this will be the last time you ever see him.
As the day stretches on, your heart feels like it's being pulled in two different directions. The castle is brimming with activity, preparations for the arrival of Taeyong only adding to the mounting pressure. You can’t escape the constant hum of voices and the shuffle of soldiers, and every glance from those around you feels like a reminder of what’s to come.
You stand near the grand hall, watching as the last of the decorations are placed, the scent of roses filling the air. Your father is already in the hall, speaking with Taeyong and his advisors. The thought of the union—the betrothal you never asked for, the life you never wanted—threatens to drown you.
Your mind keeps drifting back to Chan. The words he spoke to you earlier repeat in your mind like a broken record.
I care for you more than I should. And I can’t watch you marry him.
His confession lingers in the air between you even now, like an unspoken promise. You’ve never felt this torn, and the reality of it sinks in deeper with every passing minute.
“Princess?”
You turn, startled, to find Lord Hwang standing behind you, his eyes sharp as ever. “The king requests your presence.”
You nod, though your stomach churns. The weight of your decision sits heavily on your chest, and yet, there’s a part of you that wonders if it’s already too late to turn back.
The hall is grand, as always, but today, the walls seem to close in on you. Your father, King Taemin, stands at the center, his back straight and imposing as he speaks with Taeyong. The two men are deep in conversation, and your father’s laugh rings out—a sound that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Princess Y/N,” Taeyong says, turning as you approach. His voice is smooth, almost rehearsed. But there’s something in his eyes that makes your stomach twist. “I trust you’re feeling well this morning?”
What a fucking prick. You force yourself to smile, though it feels like a mask. “Yes, thank you, Prince Taeyong.”
“You’ve been quiet today,” he notes, his voice laced with something dangerous. “I understand. A woman of your beauty and status must feel the pressure of the eyes upon her.”
You swallow, the words coming out in a strained breath. “I suppose I’ve always been under pressure.”
Taeyong steps closer, just a little too close. The scent of his cologne fills your senses, and you can feel the weight of his presence pressing down on you. He’s always been polite, but today, there’s something more. His gaze lingers a moment too long, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you.
Before you can say anything else, there’s a sudden commotion by the entrance.
You turn sharply to see Chan standing at the doorway, his figure cutting through the crowd like a blade. He’s dressed in full armor, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on you. His eyes, dark and conflicted, lock onto yours, and for a split second, the noise of the room fades.
Your heart lurches in your chest, but you quickly look away, afraid of what might happen if you don’t.
Chan strides forward, his expression unreadable, until he stands at your side, his presence a stark contrast to the cold politeness of Taeyong.
“My lady,” Chan says, bowing slightly. His voice is steady, but the tension in his tone is unmistakable.
You feel the air thicken. Taeyong looks between you and Chan, his smile faltering for just a second, and then returning with more force.
“Ah, Sir Bang Chan,” Taeyong greets him with a forced politeness, his tone barely veiling the subtle challenge. “A knight in shining armor. Always a pleasure.”
Chan doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just stands there, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s a quiet storm brewing between you both—silent, but intense.
Your heart beats faster, and a knot forms in your throat. You want to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words are stuck.
“Is there something I can assist you with, Sir Bang Chan?” Taeyong asks, his voice laced with thinly veiled irritation.
You see it then—the way Chan’s jaw tightens, the barely restrained anger behind his eyes. But when he speaks, his tone is calm, almost too calm. “I’m here to ensure that the castle is properly secured. My duty is to protect, not to engage in politics.”
You almost breathe a sigh of relief at his restraint, but then the tension shifts. It’s in the way his eyes flicker to you, the way he holds himself back, knowing that the moment he says too much, everything will change.
"Of course," Taeyong says, his voice laced with mock sweetness. "Duty first, always."
You can feel the undercurrent of hostility between them, a quiet but potent rivalry. It’s not just political; there’s something personal about it. And you’re caught in the middle, trapped in a game you never wanted to play.
Taeyong looks at you again, his gaze lingering with an unsettling intensity. "I trust we'll have a proper discussion later, Princess. After all, we have much to talk about, don't we?"
You try to keep your face neutral, but his words feel like a weight pressing down on your chest. This isn’t just about duty anymore—it’s about control. His control over you, over your future, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
Chan takes a step closer to you, his arm brushing against yours in a brief but undeniable touch. The contact sends a shock through your body, and for a moment, you almost forget about the others in the room. You look at him, your eyes searching his face for some sign, some glimmer of hope.
But instead, you see the pain in his expression, the resignation that mirrors your own.
“We’ll talk later, Princess,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. And then he turns, his footsteps heavy as he walks away, back into the throng of soldiers and advisors.
You watch him go, your heart aching with a mixture of fear and longing.
And then Taeyong steps forward again, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “You look troubled, Princess. Is there something I can do to ease your mind?”
You meet his gaze, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. “I don’t believe so, Prince Taeyong.”
But even as you say the words, you know that the storm is far from over. And soon, it will break.
Bang Chan's POV
Chan strides through the grand hall, his armor clinking with every step, though the sound does little to mask the heavy weight pressing down on his chest. His heart is pounding—raging—and it's all he can do to keep from snapping. He knows he shouldn’t have stayed. He knows it was damn stupid to let his feelings spill out in front of her, to risk everything for a moment of honesty.
But he couldn’t stop himself.
He had seen the way she looked at him. The way her eyes flickered when their gazes met. For just a brief moment, it felt like the world had stopped. Like everything that chained them down—war, duty, her betrothal—had all faded away. And it was just them, caught in that fleeting second of truth.
But now? Now, reality’s crashing back down, hard.
He exhales a frustrated breath, fingers running through his curly brown hair. His boots echo on the stone floor like the ticking of a clock—each step taking him farther away from her, farther away from the choice he should’ve made.
He should’ve walked away.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Chan,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head. “What the hell were you thinking?”
His thoughts spin in endless circles, each one getting more tangled, more painful. He knows what he has to do. The kingdom needs him. His oath to the king is clear. He has no right to her. She’s a princess, and he’s just some damn knight.
But goddamn it, it doesn’t feel that way. Not when he looks at her.
He reaches the stables and stops in front of his horse, the stable hand standing by nervously. Chan nods at him but doesn’t stop to say anything. Instead, he mounts his horse in silence, his muscles tense, his mind still stuck on her.
Y/N.
His hand grips the reins too tightly, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched. He tries to shake off the anger, the pain, but it’s all still there, gnawing at him.
He should’ve never spoken those words to her. He should’ve never told her he cared. She doesn’t need that weight. She’s already trapped by the chains of her life—betrothed to Taeyong, the looming war, the expectations of a kingdom that only sees her as a bargaining chip. She doesn’t need some knight—some fool like him—complicating everything.
But the truth is, he can’t stop. He never could. Every time he’s near her, he feels it—like some electric current, something raw and untamed, pulling him toward her. The way she looks at him, the way her eyes hold this fire that matches his own. He can’t turn it off. He can’t shut it out.
“Damn it,” he hisses under his breath, urging his horse into motion. The rhythmic sound of hooves against the cobblestone is the only noise in the otherwise empty courtyard.
His mind wanders back to the scene in the hall, the way Taeyong had looked at him. The way the prince was just a little too smug, like he owned her. And the way Y/N had stood there, quiet, her eyes full of things she couldn’t say—things Chan couldn’t hear, but could feel deep down. It tore at him.
The damn prince wasn’t good for her. But he wasn’t the one who would get to choose.
“Focus,” Chan mutters to himself as he rides toward the outer gates. “Don’t be an idiot.”
But the more he tries to focus on the mission ahead—the war, the kingdom, his duty—the more his thoughts keep circling back to her.
Y/N.
He hates it.
And he knows it’s only going to get worse. The knot in his chest tightens, and it feels like everything’s breaking down.
As Chan rides out of the castle grounds and into the open fields, he finally slows his horse. The wind against his face does little to ease the storm inside him.
Why the hell does it have to be like this?
Why the hell can’t he just be the man she needs?
He should’ve walked away. He should’ve kept his damn mouth shut and kept being the knight he’s supposed to be. But no—he had to let it all out.
“Fuck,” he growls, kicking his horse into a faster gallop.
The motion isn’t enough to outrun the thoughts, though. He’s still thinking about her—the way she looked at him, the pain in her eyes. She wants something more than what she’s being given. And maybe—just maybe—she wants him, too.
But it doesn’t matter. She’s going to marry Taeyong, and that’s the end of it. She’ll never choose him. He’s just a soldier, and she’s a princess.
A knight like him doesn’t get to have the girl.
But goddamn, does it hurt.
Hours later, after the war council has ended, the tension in the castle is palpable. The air is thick with anticipation—war on the horizon, the betrothal looming—and Chan finds himself standing alone in the training yard, his sword drawn.
The practice dummies stand in front of him, but it’s like he’s seeing them through a fog. He slashes the sword through the air, his strikes sharp and controlled, but the anger doesn’t leave. It’s there, coiled tight in his chest, and no matter how many times he swings, it only tightens.
“Damn it!” he yells as he drives the sword into the wooden target, the sound of it echoing through the empty yard.
He stands there for a long moment, panting. The adrenaline is wearing off, but the pain is still there. His breath is uneven, his heart hammering in his chest.
“You’re not going to fix anything by swinging a sword,” he mutters to himself.
But it’s the only thing that’s keeping him from breaking down right here.
He stares at the practice dummy, his grip tight on the hilt of the sword. His thoughts are a mess—thoughts of her, of the war, of the kingdom that has him shackled. All of it.
He wants to scream. He wants to break something.
“Damn it,” he mutters again, his voice cracking as he lowers the sword.
Nothing makes sense anymore. It’s all slipping through his fingers, like sand.
And he can’t do a thing to stop it.
Your POV
The days stretch out before you like an endless expanse, each one heavier than the last. The castle feels suffocating, the air thick with anticipation—of the war that looms closer with each passing day, of your betrothal that you cannot escape. The weight of it all presses down on you, until you can barely breathe.
You were born into this life, one of duty, of responsibility, of alliances forged before you had even learned how to speak. Your marriage to Taeyong has been set for years, a union that will strengthen kingdoms and ensure peace. The thought of it stirs nothing but a deep ache in your chest. You’ve seen the way the people around you talk about him, how they admire his strength, his power. But none of them see what you see. They don’t know what it’s like to be trapped by your bloodline, to be expected to put your heart aside for the sake of an entire kingdom.
You can already hear the laughter from the hall below, the celebration in full swing. Everyone is preparing for the union. The prince, the one who will be your future husband, has already arrived. His presence is undeniable, his name on everyone’s lips. He is the kind of ruler everyone expects you to want. But you don’t. You never have.
You pull your gaze from the window, the distant stars barely visible behind the thick, swirling clouds. You know what’s coming—your betrothal, the prince’s arrival at the ceremony. But none of that changes the fact that your heart keeps drifting back to the one man you cannot have.
Chan.
Your feet carry you silently down the hallways, your mind racing. You can hear your own heart pounding, each step feeling heavier than the last. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. You know he’s not supposed to be in your life the way he is. He’s a knight, a warrior—his duty is to your father, to the kingdom. But that doesn’t change the truth.
He’s been your constant, a reminder of everything you could have had if the world had been different.
When you see him standing there, his figure cutting through the shadows of the corridor, you can feel your breath hitch. You want to run to him, to close the distance between you, but you stop yourself. You know the consequences.
“Chan,” you whisper, your voice trembling more than you want it to.
He turns slowly, his eyes catching yours. There’s something in them—something broken, something raw. The air between you thickens with every passing second.
“What is it, Your Highness?” His voice comes out rough, as though he’s holding back words that could shatter everything.
You step closer, the world shrinking with each movement you make toward him. “You’re leaving soon,” you say, the words falling from your lips before you can stop them. “I don’t want to see you go.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he looks at you, and for a brief moment, it feels like he’s seeing you for who you truly are. Not the princess, not the daughter of the king, but the woman who is desperate to be free.
“You should,” he says quietly, his voice tight. “You’ve got a future waiting for you. A future with him. With Taeyong. You have a kingdom to save.”
His words stab deep, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to look away. “And what if that future isn’t what I want? What if I want something else?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries the weight of every emotion you’ve tried to bury for so long.
Chan’s gaze softens, his jaw tightening as if he’s fighting with himself. “You don’t understand what you’re asking,” he says, his voice strained. “I’m not the one you should want. You have everything you need already. You’re bound to him. You’re—”
You don’t let him finish. “No. I’m bound to nothing but the duty they’ve placed on me. I’m not his, and I never will be.”
There’s a moment of silence, a stillness that feels unbearable. You step even closer, your hands reaching for him before you can think better of it. His hand trembles slightly as it brushes against yours, and for a moment, you both just stand there, caught in that unspoken understanding.
“Please,” you murmur, your voice breaking.
He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. He takes a slow step back, his hand slipping from yours, and the distance between you both feels like a chasm. “You can’t ask me to stay,” he says, the words heavy with finality. “You have a life, a future, a kingdom that needs you. I can’t be the one who drags you away from all of that.”
“But what if I don’t care about any of that?” The question hangs between you, thick with the truth neither of you can deny.
He shakes his head, his eyes filled with frustration and something deeper, something more painful. “You don’t mean that. You can’t.”
And in that moment, as you stand there, you know he’s right. He’s right, and it breaks you.
The sounds of the castle fade into the background as you make your way back to your chambers, the weight of the decision already beginning to settle on your shoulders. You try to ignore the questions swirling in your mind, the urge to run, to leave it all behind. But it isn’t that simple. It never was.
You glance one last time at the window, the stars now completely hidden behind the storm clouds that have gathered. The war is still out there, and your betrothal is still waiting to happen. Your future is set in stone, whether you like it or not.
But what if there’s another way? What if you and Chan—what if you could leave it all behind?
The thought lingers in your mind, but even as you entertain the possibility, you know how dangerous it is. The consequences of disobedience are dire. The kingdom, your father, the prince—they’ll never let you go.
But your heart doesn’t care.
Your heart is already somewhere far away, with a man who could never truly be yours.
The night stretches on, and you can't seem to escape the thoughts that have taken root in your mind. As you sit alone in your chamber, the silence feels suffocating, broken only by the soft flicker of the candlelight. The castle, with its stone walls and corridors filled with echoes of voices long gone, feels like a prison. The weight of your duty, your future, hangs over you like a dark cloud that refuses to dissipate.
You close your eyes, trying to steady your breath, but your thoughts keep racing back to him—Chan. The way his eyes softened when he spoke to you, the unspoken words that lingered between you like an invisible thread, binding you together even as he stepped away. You can still feel the heat of his touch, the way his hand trembled when it brushed against yours. It was a reminder that, despite the distance, despite the kingdom that demanded everything of you, something else was possible. Something forbidden.
But is it worth the risk?
The war is coming, and every day that passes brings you closer to the decision you don’t want to make. The decision to marry a man you don’t love, to give yourself away for the good of your kingdom. Taeyong, the prince. His face is still so fresh in your mind—his confident smile, his regal posture—but all you feel when you think of him is cold indifference. He’s everything your father wants. Everything the kingdom wants. But he’s not the man you need. He doesn’t see you. Not truly. Not like Chan does.
You pull yourself from your thoughts, standing and pacing the room restlessly. You can't stay here. Not tonight. Not when everything feels like it’s unraveling, not when your heart is torn between two impossible choices.
As you make your way toward the door, your mind races with a single thought.
You need to see him again. You need to hear his voice, to feel his presence beside you, just one last time before everything changes.
You move quickly through the halls, the flickering torchlight casting shadows that dance along the stone walls. You don’t stop to think. You don’t give yourself the chance to hesitate.
You reach the training building, the familiar scent of leather and iron filling your senses. The sounds of the castle are distant here, the quiet broken only by the occasional whisper of wind against the stone. You spot him almost immediately—his broad shoulders silhouetted against the dim light as he practices with his sword, his movements fluid and precise, the anger in each strike as sharp as the blade in his hand.
You should turn back. You should leave him to his duty. But you can't.
You can’t leave him.
“Chan,” you say, your voice louder this time, as you step into his line of sight.
He pauses, his sword held still in midair. For a moment, you think he might turn away. But instead, his gaze shifts to you, and in that one glance, you feel everything—the tension, the unspoken desire, the guilt—come crashing down on both of you. His eyes are dark, unreadable, but you can see the conflict in them. The struggle he’s been carrying. The same one you’ve been carrying.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice low, guarded.
You take a step forward, your heart pounding in your chest. “I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t pretend anymore.” You pause, searching his eyes for something, anything. “I need to know if you feel the same way.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he lowers his sword, stepping toward you. The space between you narrows, but his expression remains unreadable. “You know I do,” he finally says, his voice soft but steady. “But it’s not that simple, Y/N. You’re the princess. You’re betrothed to Taeyong. Your duty isn’t just to yourself.”
“I don’t care about my duty,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Not when it means giving up everything I want.”
Chan’s gaze softens, and he steps closer, his hand reaching for yours but pausing just before contact, as if unsure whether to continue or pull away. “You’re asking me to make a choice I can’t. We both know that.”
Your chest tightens, the pain of the truth settling in like a heavy weight. “Then what do we do? I can’t go through with it. I can’t marry him. I can’t marry someone I don’t love, Chan. I can’t do this alone.”
“Then come with me,” he says suddenly, the words cutting through the tension like a knife. His voice is raw, desperate, as if he’s finally giving in to the one thing he’s held back for so long. “Leave with me. We can disappear. We can be free of all of this.”
You stare at him, your heart racing. The idea, the possibility, is almost too much to bear. To leave everything behind. The war. The kingdom. Your family. The responsibility that’s been drummed into you since birth.
“I can’t,” you whisper. “I have too much to lose.”
His face falls, the lines of frustration deepening around his eyes. “And what about me? What do I lose if you go? What do I lose if I stay and watch you marry him?” His voice cracks, and you can hear the pain in it. “I’ve already lost you before we even had a chance.”
For a moment, the world seems to stand still. The storm inside you swells, and you can’t breathe. You can’t think. All you feel is him—the rawness of his words, the intensity of the emotions flooding through you. He’s right. You’ve already lost him, haven’t you? You’ve already let fate steal away what could have been.
But is it too late to fight for it? Too late to change the course of your future?
You look at Chan, the man who has seen you for who you truly are, and for the first time in days, you make a decision.
“Let’s run,” you say, your voice trembling but certain. “Let’s leave now. Before it’s too late.”
For a second, there’s nothing but silence. Then, he steps closer, his hand finding yours at last. The warmth of his touch is the only thing that matters now, the only thing that feels real.
But as you stand there, the weight of the world still presses down on you. The war is still coming. The kingdom still demands its price.
You stand in front of Chan, the space between you filled with so much unsaid tension it feels like the air itself is charged. His eyes search yours, but there’s something deeper there, something raw, something that neither of you can escape anymore. You’ve been dancing around it for so long, trying to deny it, trying to bury it beneath duty and expectation, but in this moment, all of it fades into nothingness.
The weight of your responsibility, of the future that awaits you, is still there, but it feels distant now. The world feels distant. All that matters is the man standing in front of you.
“What are you going to do?” His voice is low, tight, as though he’s trying to keep himself in control, but you see through it. You see the struggle, the pain, the desire.
“I don't know,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “I just couldn’t pretend anymore.”
For a moment, his gaze hardens, as if he’s trying to push back the urge to pull you close. He clenches his jaw, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. But even that feels like a battle he’s losing. “You can’t keep doing this, Y/N,” he says, his words heavy with something he can’t name.
“I don’t care,” you reply, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “I can’t marry him. I can’t marry someone I don’t love.”
The silence between you both stretches out, and you can see the internal war raging in him. He looks at you like he’s trying to make a decision he knows he can’t. His eyes flicker between yours, his lips pressed into a thin line.
But then, all at once, the walls he’s built between you both crumble.
He takes a step toward you, his hand reaching for your face with a gentleness that makes your heart race. You don’t step back. Instead, you lean into his touch, your breath catching in your throat as his fingertips brush against your skin, sending a shiver through your entire body.
“Y/N…” His voice is barely a whisper, his breath hot against your lips. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
You can’t answer. You don’t need to. Because in that moment, you both understand.
Without another word, he closes the gap between you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s fierce, desperate, and full of longing. All the frustration, the pain, the want you’ve both been holding back is unleashed in that single moment. His mouth moves against yours with a hunger that takes your breath away, his lips firm yet tender, as if he’s trying to pour all of his feelings into you in that one kiss.
Your hands move instinctively, reaching for his chest, your fingers trembling as you feel the heat of his body under the fabric of his tunic. He responds with equal urgency, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You can feel his heartbeat, wild and erratic beneath your fingertips, mirroring your own.
The kiss deepens, and everything around you fades away. There’s no kingdom, no war, no betrothal. There’s just him. Just you. The taste of him, the feel of him, the way his body presses against yours, is all that matters.
His hands move to your back, drawing you in even closer, as if he can’t get enough of you. His lips trail down to your jaw, his breath coming fast against your skin, and you close your eyes, losing yourself in the sensation of him—of the way he feels so right, so necessary, even in this chaos.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you gasping for breath, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of the kiss. You can’t look away from him. His eyes are dark, heavy with emotion, but there’s something else there too—something dangerous, something reckless.
He speaks your name, his voice hoarse, and you feel it like a plea, a whisper that cuts straight through you.
But it’s too late for words now.
Because this—this kiss—is everything you’ve both been holding back. And you know, deep down, that it’s only the beginning of something neither of you can control.
The room is thick with the heat of your shared breath, the air heavy with desire. You can feel it in the way Chan’s hands tremble as they rest on your back, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress as if he’s trying to anchor himself. Your heart beats faster, the moment suspended in time, neither of you knowing what to do next, or how far you can go before everything unravels.
You both stand there, breathless, bodies so close you can feel the heat radiating off each other. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes closed, as if trying to push back against the overwhelming pull between you. For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence, the tension between you thick and palpable.
He pulls back just slightly, enough to look at you, his eyes dark with emotion. “I want you,” he whispers, his voice strained, rough with need. “But this... we can’t do this. Not now. Not like this.”
The words hit you like a cold wave, crashing over the heat of the moment. You nod, even though every part of you wants to scream, wants to tell him that you don’t care about anything else right now. You only care about him, about this connection, this undeniable chemistry that pulls you closer with every passing second.
But you also know he’s right.
You can’t rush this. You can’t let your emotions drive you into something that will change everything. The kingdom, your duties, the war that’s coming—it’s all too much. You’re standing on the edge of a precipice, and one wrong move could send you both tumbling into a world neither of you can control.
“I know,” you breathe, your voice soft but firm. You reach up, your hand cupping his face, your thumb brushing over the line of his jaw. “I don’t want to lose myself in this moment. I want you, Chan. But... not like this.”
He exhales slowly, as if the weight of those words brings him some sort of relief. His hand moves to yours, his fingers intertwining with yours, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you—no titles, no responsibilities, just two people who have shared something they can’t take back.
“I’m sorry,” he says, the words sounding like an apology but also like a promise. “I can’t... I can’t let this be something we regret. Not now.”
The honesty in his voice makes something inside you ache, a longing that feels both impossible and necessary. You want to press forward, to let your instincts take control, to let the walls you’ve built come crashing down. But deep down, you know he’s right. This isn’t the right time, and neither of you is in a place to surrender completely.
You nod again, your fingers tightening around his. “I know,” you repeat, though the words taste bittersweet on your tongue.
For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The silence between you feels heavy, but it’s also peaceful in a way—like a quiet understanding has settled between you. You’re not ready for this step, not with everything hanging over you. And yet, there’s a sense of something deeper, something that tells you this is just the beginning.
Chan’s gaze softens as he looks at you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. His lips linger there, warm and tender, like a promise of things yet to come.
“We’ll have our time,” he murmurs, his breath against your skin making your heart skip. “But not now. Not when the world’s about to fall apart.”
You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his touch ground you, as the reality of everything sinks in again—the war, your betrothal, the kingdom. But there’s something else there too. A spark. A connection that you can’t ignore, no matter how much the world tries to pull you apart.
Chan pulls back slightly, his hands still on your waist, but there’s a gentle, almost comforting distance between you now. The tension, while still present, feels more manageable—more like something you can handle together, without giving in to the heat of the moment.
You stand there, wrapped in the quiet of the room, the weight of the unsaid words heavy in the air. Chan’s touch lingers on your waist, warm and grounding, but the space between you has shifted. There’s a subtle tension now, the kind that isn’t immediately uncomfortable, but you both know it’s there—waiting, simmering beneath the surface.
His fingers gently trace along your arm, and you shiver at the contact, the sensation sparking a desire you can’t ignore. But you don’t move away. You don’t want to. The simple act of being close to him, without the urgency of the moment, feels like a small victory.
"I’m sorry," he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t mean to... push things. But I don’t want to hurt you."
You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes. There’s a depth in them, something vulnerable, and you can see how much he’s holding back, the same way you are. You reach up, brushing your fingers lightly against his cheek, soothing the tension you feel radiating off him.
“You haven’t,” you reply softly. “I don’t regret it. I just... I don’t want this to be a mistake. I don’t want either of us to do something we’ll regret.”
His eyes flicker with something unreadable, and he leans in, just close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “I don’t want to regret it either,” he admits, the words laced with sincerity. “But I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N. This isn’t just about us. It’s about everything.”
You know exactly what he means—the kingdom, the future that’s already written for you, the war brewing in the distance. The stakes are high, and neither of you can afford to make a decision based on something so fleeting, something so dangerous.
“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes as his words settle deep in your chest. You lean into his touch again, just for a moment, the connection between you undeniable, despite the distance you’ve created between your bodies. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t have something real. Something that’s just ours.”
For a second, Chan hesitates, as if considering your words, weighing them against the gravity of everything. He’s not a man who takes risks lightly—especially not with his duty, his honor, and certainly not with you.
But then, slowly, he nods. “Something real,” he echoes, as if testing the idea. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
The promise in his words stirs something inside you, a flicker of hope you can’t quite snuff out. Even in the chaos that awaits, even with all the obstacles that stand in your way, there’s something beautiful about the thought of finding something real with him—something that isn’t dictated by kingdoms or political alliances. Something that’s yours alone.
His hand slides down to yours, intertwining your fingers. The simple act grounds you, reminds you that no matter what happens, you aren’t alone in this. You have him. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to keep you from drowning in the storm that’s approaching.
But then the door creaks open, and the world outside the room comes rushing back in. The sudden intrusion is like a cold bucket of water, dousing the warmth that had settled between you both.
A voice calls from the hallway, firm, urgent. “Your Highness, the king requests your presence.”
You exchange a glance with Chan, and for a brief moment, neither of you speaks. You both know that the real world—the one that demands sacrifices and decisions you’re not ready to make—has come knocking again.
Chan releases your hand gently, but his gaze doesn’t leave yours. “We’ll talk again, Y/N,” he says, his voice steady, though you can hear the tension still lingering beneath the surface.
You nod, unable to find the right words. The knot in your chest tightens as you turn toward the door, the weight of your future pressing down on you with every step. But as you reach for the door, you pause, glancing back at him.
For a brief moment, the world seems to disappear. The war, the betrothal, the responsibilities—it all fades into the background. There’s only you and Chan, and for the first time in a long time, you wonder if maybe there’s a chance. A chance to change everything.
“I’ll be back,” you whisper.
Chan’s eyes soften, and he nods, though the uncertainty remains in his gaze. “I’ll be waiting.”
And with that, you step out of the room, back into the world that is pulling you away from everything you’ve ever wanted. But as the door closes behind you, you can still feel the warmth of his touch, the weight of his words, lingering in the air.
The night was unusually quiet, a stillness that hung heavy in the air, as though the castle itself was holding its breath. You had just finished your meeting with the king regarding the wedding that was taking tomorrow and had retired to your chambers. It felt as of the weight of the world pressing down on you with every step. The walls felt closer tonight, suffocating in their coldness, and the thought of tomorrow—of your arrangement with Prince Taeyong—gnawed at your insides.
But you had little time to think on it. The gentle knock at your door broke the silence, and you glanced up, a frown forming as you reached for the door.
"Who is it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the stillness that had settled in your mind.
"It’s just me, Your Highness," came a soft, familiar voice. One of the guards, surely. "We’ve been instructed to make sure you’re safe tonight, due to reports of enemy activity near the borders."
You hesitated for a moment before slowly opening the door. "Very well," you murmured, stepping aside to let the guard in. The man was tall, his face obscured by the hood of his cloak. Two other guards stood behind him, equally cloaked in shadow.
Something about the scene felt off, but the exhaustion in your bones made you dismiss the unease. You were about to turn back to your room when the guard at the door stepped inside, closing it behind him with a subtle, almost imperceptible motion.
The moment the door clicked shut, a wave of panic surged through you. You didn’t have time to react before the guard at the door lunged toward you. His hands were quick, too quick, and before you could make a sound, he clamped a hand over your mouth, stifling any cry for help.
Your heart raced as the two other guards advanced, their hands grabbing you with ruthless efficiency. One of them yanked your arms behind your back, and you struggled, but their grip was too strong. The familiar scent of the castle’s stone walls and polished wood began to fade as you were dragged toward the hallway. Your mind raced, trying to piece together the situation.
Why were they here? What were they after?
Your breath quickened, panic rising in your chest, and just as you opened your mouth to scream, the guard’s hand tightened around your throat, cutting off the sound before it could escape.
"Quiet," he hissed in your ear. His voice was cold, foreign—unfamiliar. "We don’t want to hurt you, Princess. But we will if we have to."
The world blurred around you as they moved swiftly through the castle, past hallways and stairwells you knew too well, but they weren’t taking you in the direction of the exit. They weren’t leading you anywhere familiar. The unfamiliar chill of dread crept through your veins as you realized this was no routine guard shift. Something far more sinister was happening.
Minutes later, you were thrown into a dark, cold room, the door slamming shut behind you with a deafening clang. You stumbled back to your feet, your mind racing. What was happening? Why you? Why now?
Your eyes darted around the darkened space. The only light came from a flickering torch mounted on the wall. You couldn’t see much, but you could hear the echo of footsteps approaching.
"Who are you?" you demanded, your voice shaking with the adrenaline that coursed through you. "Why are you doing this?"
The man who stepped into the light was no stranger. The figure was tall, with dark, sharp features that sent a chill down your spine. His eyes gleamed with a cold, calculating light. Surprisingly, he was dressed in the colors of your ally—the banner of the Northern Kingdom—a kingdom that had been a sworn friend of your father's for years.
But it wasn’t the man’s face that sent the real terror surging through you. It was the realization that the man before you was not just any soldier, not just another commander.
It was Lord Hwang.
Your breath caught in your throat, your mind scrambling for clarity. "No... it can’t be... you?"
He tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, so you recognize me." His voice was smooth, laced with a bitterness that sent a shiver down your spine. "I must admit, I was hoping you wouldn't."
You took a step back, your eyes wide with disbelief. "What is this? Why—why are you doing this? You’re one of my father’s allies. You’re supposed to be—"
"An ally?" Hwang interrupted, his voice hard, mocking. "Your father and I have been playing this game for years, Princess. You think I’m just another soldier, just another face in his ranks? No." He chuckled, the sound dark and chilling. "I’ve been playing my own game all along."
The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as his words hit you like a cold wave.
"But you... you’ve been helping us," you whispered, your voice shaking. "You’ve been on our side."
"On your side?" he scoffed. "You’ve always been a pawn in this game, Y/N. A princess. A bargaining chip. And I’ve been here, waiting for the right moment to take what’s mine." He stepped closer, the smirk still tugging at the corners of his mouth, but there was something colder in his eyes now—something far darker. "Your father never knew. But I’ve had my sights set on this kingdom for a long time."
A sickening realization washed over you, and the room spun as you tried to process the words. "You... you’ve been behind the attacks? The sabotage? The uprisings?"
Hwang’s smile widened. "You’re smarter than you look, Princess. Yes, it’s all been me. The raids on the border. The attacks. I’ve been carefully orchestrating everything. All to bring your kingdom to its knees."
Your chest tightened, a sick knot forming in your stomach. "But... why? Why do this? Why to me?"
He leaned in closer, his face now inches from yours, his cold breath ghosting against your skin. "Because, Y/N," he whispered, his voice turning from mocking to something darker, "I want everything. And I will have it all—your kingdom, your throne... and you."
Your heart thumped wildly in your chest as his words washed over you. Betrayal. The taste of it was bitter on your tongue. You had trusted him. Believed him. And now, he stood before you, revealing the truth.
"You’ll regret this," you spat, summoning every ounce of defiance you had left, even as fear crept in around the edges. "This isn’t over."
Hwang’s eyes glinted with amusement. "Oh, Princess, the only thing that’s over is your kingdom’s future. And if you’re smart, you’ll stay quiet. Because what’s coming next... is far worse than you can imagine."
With those words, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving you alone in the darkness, your mind racing, your thoughts spinning as the reality of the betrayal settled over you.
Lord Hwang wasn’t just a traitor.
He was the one who would destroy everything you had ever known.
The sound of the heavy door slamming shut echoed through the room, leaving you in a suffocating silence. Your mind raced, struggling to process everything Hwang had just revealed. You felt the weight of his betrayal like a crushing weight on your chest.
He was behind it all. Every attack, every raid, every plot against your kingdom... it was him.
The reality of the situation sank in, suffocating you. You had trusted him, believed him to be an ally, a friend, and now... now he had used you, manipulated you, and betrayed everything you held dear. The anger boiled within you, mixing with the fear and confusion that still clouded your thoughts.
You tried to steady your breathing, fighting back the wave of panic rising in your chest. You couldn’t let him see how vulnerable you were. You couldn’t let him know how much this hurt. Not yet. Not when you still had a chance to fight back.
But the more you thought about it, the more helpless you felt. You were locked in this cold, unfamiliar room, a prisoner in your own kingdom, and Lord Hwang had orchestrated it all. Your mind raced, trying to think of any possible way out of this, any way to warn your father, your people.
No, I can’t let him win.
With determination burning in your veins, you pushed aside the fear that threatened to overwhelm you. You scanned the room, looking for anything—anything that might help you escape, any sign of weakness in the carefully laid plans of your captors. But there was nothing. The stone walls were unyielding, and the heavy door was locked tight. You were trapped, and the cold realization of that truth made your heart sink.
A faint noise from outside the room made you freeze. Footsteps. Someone was coming. Your heart began to race again, the adrenaline coursing through you as you tried to prepare yourself for whatever was next. Were they coming to interrogate you? To silence you?
The door creaked open slowly, and a figure stepped into the dimly lit room. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a brief moment, you thought it might be Hwang again, or perhaps one of his men, here to finish what he had started.
But then you saw the figure more clearly, and your stomach churned.
It was Taeyong—the very man you had been betrothed to.
But he wasn’t here to comfort you or offer assurances. His eyes were cold, distant, and when he spoke, it was with the same chilling tone you had heard from your enemies.
"Y/N," Taeyong’s voice was low, almost amused, as he stepped closer to where you were seated. "I see you’ve finally figured it out."
You stood up from where you had been sitting, your pulse quickening. “You... you knew about this? You knew what Lord Hwang was planning?”
A wicked smile curled on Taeyong's lips. "Of course, I knew. I’ve been a part of it all along. I had to make sure the marriage between our kingdoms went smoothly, after all."
Your eyes widened in shock. “You—you're working with him? You betrayed me too?”
The man's laugh was cold, cruel, as if your shock amused him. "I didn’t betray you, princess. I did what was necessary. This war, our alliance, it’s all a game. You’re just a piece I needed to move into place. Nothing more."
Your heart slammed against your ribs. "I was never anything to you, was I?" you whispered, the bitterness rising in your throat.
"Exactly," he said flatly. "You’re nothing but a tool. A way to unite our forces. Your kingdom was never important to me. Just the power it could bring."
Fury bubbled inside you, but you held it back, the realization sinking in even deeper. "So, everything... everything was a lie?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and anger.
He stepped closer, his expression darkening. "Don’t be naïve, Y/N. The sooner you accept the reality, the better."
You stood straighter, refusing to let him see how much his betrayal affected you. "You think I’ll just sit here and accept this? That I’ll just let you destroy everything I’ve ever known?"
"Try and stop it," Taeyong said with a smirk, turning to leave. "It’s already too late."
With that, he disappeared through the door, leaving you standing there alone again. Your heart felt as though it had been ripped from your chest. Both Hwang and Taeyong —the two men who had been so close to your father, so trusted—had betrayed you.
But you weren’t going to let this be the end. You would find a way to stop them. You would find a way to escape this.
For now, though, the cold stone walls of your prison mocked you, and you were left with only one thing: determination.
You would fight.
The door slammed shut behind Taeyong, leaving you alone in the cold, dimly lit room once more. Your thoughts were a whirlwind, crashing together in a haze of anger, disbelief, and a growing sense of urgency. You could barely process the depth of the betrayal, but the fire in your chest refused to be extinguished.
I will not be their pawn.
Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms as the weight of the situation settled in. You knew you couldn’t stay here—physically trapped, yes, but also mentally chained by the lies and manipulations. The more you thought about it, the more everything clicked into place. The subtle manipulation by Lord Hwang, the way Taeyong seemed too eager to go along with the marriage. It had all been a set-up, and you had been a fool to trust either of them.
But no longer. You would find a way to turn this around. You had to.
The first step was getting out of this room.
You quickly scanned your surroundings once more, looking for any weaknesses, any way to escape. There was a small, barred window, too high to reach unless you could climb. The stone walls were unyielding, and the door was locked tight, but you had something they didn’t know about—you had your wits.
You moved to the far corner of the room, crouching down and running your fingers along the stone floor, searching for anything useful. After what felt like an eternity, you found it—a thin crack in the corner near the baseboard. It wasn’t much, but it could be just enough. You pressed your fingers into it, carefully prying at the stone until you heard a faint, satisfying click. The stone moved slightly, revealing a small hidden compartment.
Your heart raced as you knelt down and peered inside. There, buried beneath the dust and grime, was a small but sharp piece of metal—likely left there by someone who had been locked away before you. You grabbed it quickly, testing its weight in your hand. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
With a sharp breath, you stood up and pressed the metal against the lock on the door, feeling the small edges scrape against the mechanism. It wasn’t easy work, but you were determined. You knew that every second counted. You had no idea when they would return, and when they did, you couldn’t be here, couldn’t let them catch you off guard again.
Minutes passed like hours, the sound of your breath the only noise filling the otherwise silent room. The metal bit into the lock, and with a sudden, sharp click, the door opened just enough for you to slip through.
The hallway beyond was dimly lit, and the shadows seemed to mock your every step. You hesitated, listening for any signs of movement. Nothing. The silence was oppressive, but it gave you a brief moment of hope. You could still make it out of the castle. You could still escape.
As you crept down the narrow passageway, your mind raced with the possibility of confronting your father—of finally telling him the truth. Or perhaps you could warn your people, rally them before Taeyong’s plan unfolded fully. But you had to get out first. You had to—
Stop.
A noise from further down the hallway froze you in your tracks. A group of soldiers, their armor clanking lightly, appeared at the far end of the corridor. You stepped back into the shadows, pressing yourself against the stone wall and holding your breath. Your heart beat loudly in your chest, and you cursed silently. It was too soon. They were already here.
You waited for them to pass, but just as you were about to move again, a voice cut through the silence.
"Looking for something?"
Your blood ran cold, and you froze. The voice—low, calm, but laced with something far darker—was unmistakable. You slowly turned, dread sinking in as you came face to face with Taeyong.
He stood at the other end of the hallway, his arms crossed, his eyes piercing through the shadows like a predator watching its prey. His expression was unreadable, but there was a glint in his eyes that made your stomach churn.
"You…" you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, but the weight of his presence was crushing. "You knew I would escape. This was all part of your plan, wasn’t it?"
He smirked, a cruel, cold smile that sent a shiver through your spine. "I always knew you were clever, Princess. You’re not as naive as you look. But you’re still too late." He stepped forward, his boots echoing against the stone. "You shouldn’t have come here. You should’ve stayed in your room, stayed where I put you."
Your pulse quickened. "You’ve been playing me from the start," you said, your voice shaking but growing stronger. "All of it—every attack, every betrayal—it was you. It was always you."
His eyes gleamed with a cold, cruel satisfaction. "You were never going to win this game, Y/N. Not with me in it. I’ve been pulling the strings the entire time. I don’t need you to understand. I just need you to accept it."
The finality of his words hit you like a slap to the face. This was it. He was the one who had orchestrated everything, and now he was standing before you, closing in with every word he spoke.
"You won’t get away with this," you said through gritted teeth, your body trembling with the need to run, to fight, to do anything but stand here helpless.
He chuckled, taking another step toward you. "Oh, but I already have. You’re already lost. This is just the beginning."
Before you could react, the sound of footsteps echoed from the other end of the hall. A group of soldiers appeared, forming a barrier around you. They were quick, efficient, and had you surrounded within seconds. You were trapped once again.
Taeyong’s smirk widened as he stood just out of reach, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Get her back to her cell," he ordered the soldiers. "We’re not done yet."
Your chest tightened as the soldiers moved to grab you. You fought back, struggling against their grip, but it was futile. They overpowered you with ease, dragging you away from the one moment of freedom you had tasted.
Taeyong’s voice echoed in the distance as they pulled you back toward the dungeon. "You’re mine now, Princess. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it."
Your heart hammered in your chest as the soldiers dragged you through the cold, dimly lit hallways. The sound of their heavy footsteps echoed in your ears, each step a reminder that you were no longer in control. Taeyong’s words, chilling and final, echoed in your mind.
You’re mine now, Princess.
A surge of panic threatened to overwhelm you, but you pushed it down, clinging to the only thing that still gave you hope—your resolve. You would not let this be the end. You couldn’t. Not after everything. Not after what you had learned.
They shoved you into the dungeon, the cold air biting at your skin. The stone walls were rough and damp, the scent of mildew and old stone filling your nose. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, taking in the familiar, grim surroundings. The cell. The one place you had always feared, and now, here you were again—only this time, you knew you had to escape.
The soldiers didn’t waste any time. They shoved you inside a small, isolated cell, locking the iron bars behind you with a harsh clink. The cold metal of the bars pressed against your skin, and for a brief moment, you let yourself lean against them, your breath shaky. You couldn’t afford to lose yourself here, not when you were so close to everything unraveling.
You straightened up quickly, your mind already working on your next move. Escape. You had to get out. No matter what it took.
A low voice interrupted your thoughts.
“Princess?” asked a voice from the shadows of the cell next to yours. You turned sharply, eyes scanning the darkness until a familiar face emerged. The figure stepped closer to the bars, revealing the sharp, worried features of the man you loved.
Your breath hitched at the sight of him. “Chan…”
Your heart pounded as you stared at the beautiful man through the bars, the realization of everything that had just transpired still fresh and raw. His brown eyes met yours, filled with concern, but also a hint of something deeper, something unsaid between you.
"I couldn't let them take you," Chan whispered, his voice strained with emotion. He stepped closer to the bars separating you, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I should've seen it coming, should've protected you."
You swallowed hard, the weight of everything pressing down on you. "He... he played me, Chan. He played us both." Your voice shook with a mix of anger and disbelief.
Chan's jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The tension between you was palpable, thick with unspoken words and the silent acknowledgment of everything you'd both lost. Then, without warning, he reached out and grabbed the bars in front of him, his grip tight, his body tense with frustration.
"I won’t let him win," he said, his voice low but firm.
Before you could respond, he stepped closer again, and your breath caught in your throat as his hand brushed the side of your face. His touch was gentle, but it sparked something inside of you—a feeling that had been buried under all the chaos. He was close enough now that you could feel his warmth, the steady rhythm of his breath, and it sent a shiver down your spine.
"I’ve been such an idiot," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper, his forehead resting against the bars. "I should’ve known. I should've been there for you."
Your heart ached, but the ache was mixed with something else—desire, longing. Without thinking, you reached through the bars, your fingers trembling slightly as you touched his hand.
"Chan..." you whispered, your voice faltering. "I need you."
The words hung between you like a delicate thread, and before either of you could speak again, his lips were on yours, soft and urgent. The kiss was a spark, igniting everything that had been simmering beneath the surface. His lips moved against yours with an intensity that left you breathless, his hand sliding around to your neck, pulling you closer.
Your body responded instinctively, your hands reaching through the bars, grabbing onto the front of his tunic, desperate to feel him closer. The kiss deepened, and you felt every inch of tension in your body dissolve, replaced by a burning need.
His lips tasted of the bitterness of everything he’d been through, but there was also a sweetness there—something you couldn’t ignore, something you both had been holding back for far too long. The kiss was filled with a mixture of desperation, regret, and longing, as if the world outside the dungeon no longer existed, and all that mattered was the connection you shared.
Finally, you pulled back, your breath coming in ragged gasps, and looked into his eyes. For a brief moment, you forgot everything—the betrayal, the war, the impending danger. It was just the two of you in this moment, and nothing else seemed to matter.
"Chan..." You could barely form the words, your voice hoarse. "What do we do now?"
He kissed you again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if trying to savor the feeling of you against him. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky. "We fight, Y/N. We fight for this. We fight for each other."
The air in the dungeon was thick with the weight of your emotions, the kiss still lingering on your lips. It felt like a moment suspended in time, like something you both had been waiting for but never quite knew how to reach.
Chan’s hand lingered on your shoulder as he stepped back, his gaze intense but full of resolve. "We can’t stay here. Not like this." His voice was low, a barely controlled urgency in his words. He glanced around quickly, making sure no guards were in sight, before moving back to the bars. "I’ll get us out of here. I know a way."
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, not only from the intensity of what had just passed between you but from the terrifying reality of what lay ahead. The escape. The unknown.
Chan moved swiftly, eyes scanning the dungeon once again before his gaze settled on the small window in the far corner of the cell. It was barely big enough to fit through, but it was a possible escape route—a plan he had thought of long before, and one that now seemed like their only chance. His hands moved deftly, inspecting the stone around the window. "We’ll need to act quickly," he murmured, almost to himself. "I can make it work. But you need to trust me."
"I do," you said, stepping closer to him. The words came easily, almost instinctively. The trust between you had grown in the quiet moments, in the stolen glances, in the fleeting touches. And now, in the desperation of your situation, it was stronger than ever. "Let’s go."
Chan’s expression softened as he turned back to you, the briefest flicker of warmth in his eyes before the soldier in him took over once more. "I’ll get the guards distracted. You stay low. When I say go, you make your move."
With that, he disappeared into the shadows, moving like a whisper through the darkness. You were left standing alone in the small, cold cell, your pulse thundering in your ears. Your eyes darted around, every sound amplified in the silence.
The minutes felt like hours.
Finally, a loud clanging sound broke the quiet—a door opening. A guard’s voice rang out, shouting for the other soldiers to follow him. You could hear the scramble of boots on stone, and your heart raced with a mixture of fear and anticipation.
Now.
You pushed yourself up against the cold bars of the cell, moving quickly but silently as Chan had instructed. The guards’ voices grew distant, and your breath caught in your throat as you slipped through the small gap where the bars had been loosened. You were free.
With your heart pounding in your chest, you followed Chan’s silent instructions as he led you through hidden passageways beneath the castle. Every step felt like a risk, every breath like a gamble, but you didn’t hesitate. You couldn’t. Not when there was a chance—however small—of escaping everything that had entangled you.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally emerged into the cool night air. The stars above were faint behind the clouds, the moon casting a soft, silvery glow over the landscape. Chan’s hand was firm in yours as he led you across the grounds, away from the looming castle walls and into the woods that bordered the kingdom.
"There’s a caretaker’s cabin up ahead," Chan said, his voice steady but quick, a sense of urgency in his words. "It’s hidden well. We’ll be safe there for a while."
You nodded, your mind spinning as you followed him through the darkened woods. The sounds of the forest filled the air—the rustling of leaves, the distant chirping of nocturnal creatures. It was peaceful here, so different from the chaos you’d just left behind.
After what seemed like hours, you finally reached a small, humble cabin nestled between the trees. It was quaint, with a thatched roof and wooden walls that looked weathered but sturdy. It felt like a world away from the palace—away from the plots and the battles that awaited you.
Chan opened the door slowly, his eyes scanning the inside before he ushered you in. The cabin was simple but warm, a fireplace crackling softly in the corner. A small bed sat against the wall, and a few basic chairs were scattered around the room. It was the kind of place where you could breathe, where you could rest, where you could pretend for a moment that nothing had changed.
Chan closed the door behind you, the weight of your escape finally starting to sink in. You were safe. For now.
You looked at him, your chest tight with a thousand emotions. "We did it," you whispered.
He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he moved toward the fireplace, letting himself drown in his thoughts. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the strain of the day’s events weighing heavily on him. Finally, he turned toward you, his eyes soft but filled with something deeper.
"You’re safe now," he said, his voice quiet, almost like a promise.
Your chest tightened as you stepped closer to him, your fingers brushing against his. "And what now, Chan?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "What happens next?"
He met your gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, his lips curved into a slight smile, the first real smile you’d seen from him since everything started. "Now, we survive. We stay hidden. We plan our next move."
You nodded, but there was a weight in your heart. The war, the betrayals, everything was still out there. But in this moment, with him by your side, it felt like you could breathe for the first time in a long while.
For the first few hours at the cabin, you focused on survival—finding stored food, gathering firewood, and securing what little comfort you could. After a quick meal and a roaring fire, a new dilemma presented itself.
"Take the bed, Princess," Chan said, gesturing to the lone cot in the corner. "I don’t mind."
You glanced at him, weighing the offer before shaking your head. "It’s not that small. We can both fit."
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, relenting with a small nod. Turning away, he gave you privacy to change out of your gown and into an oversized tunic you had found. The moment your body hit the cot, exhaustion settled in, the aches of the day momentarily soothed by the minimal comfort it offered.
Chan, meanwhile, undid his boots and then his tunic. You looked up at the wrong—or perhaps right—moment, catching his gaze just as he wiggled his eyebrows.
"Enjoying the view, Princess?"
Heat crept up your neck. You buried your face in the pillow, praying he wouldn’t see the flush on your cheeks. But of course, he did.
With a chuckle, he climbed onto the cot beside you. You shifted slightly, offering him what little extra space you could. With a tired sigh, he pulled the blanket over your shoulders, his warmth settling beside you.
You turned to face him just as he closed his eyes. "Thank you."
He cracked one eye open, brow furrowing. "For what?"
"For saving me."
A small smile tugged at his lips, dimples appearing. "Of course, m’lady."
Then, before you could think twice, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. You melted into him, fingers threading through his curls as the kiss deepened. The tension, the desperation of the past hours—gone, lost to this moment. For now, it was just the two of you.
When you finally broke apart, you shifted onto his lap. Chan’s grin widened as he steadied you, fingers pressing into your hips.
"Desperate, are we, Princess?"
You rolled your eyes. "Shut up."
His hands tightened slightly around your waist as you settled your palms against his broad shoulders, your heart pounding in time with the flickering firelight.
He held your gaze for a lingering moment before crashing his lips onto yours, the sudden force making you gasp against his mouth. This time, there was no hesitation—just raw intensity. His hands roamed your waist, tracing firm, possessive lines down to your hips, fingers pressing into your skin as if grounding himself in the moment. You tangled your fingers in his curls, giving a gentle tug, and the deep, guttural groan he let out sent a shiver down your spine.
"Chan," you breathed between heated kisses, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Chan..."
He pulled away just enough to look at you, his lips brushing against your jaw. "Yes?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as warmth crept up your neck. You swallowed, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.
"I—I haven’t really... done this before."
His expression softened instantly, the fire in his eyes flickering with something deeper—understanding, patience. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin. "Then we'll go slow," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Only what you're comfortable with, Princess."
As the night stretched on, Chan remained true to his word, never pushing or pressuring you beyond what you were comfortable with. His touches stayed feather-light, his kisses never straying from your lips or jaw unless you guided him elsewhere, letting you set the pace.
Heat pooled low in your stomach as your hips began to rock against his, a slow, teasing rhythm that he matched effortlessly. You could feel him hardening beneath you, the evidence of his arousal pressing against your core through the thin fabric of his trousers. The low, needy groan that left his lips sent sparks of electricity arcing through your veins, igniting a fire deep within you.
"Princess," he whispered hotly against your ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin there, sending delicious shivers down your spine. "You're making it quite difficult to behave myself."
Embarrassment flooded through you at his words, heat rising to your cheeks, but it was quickly chased away by a wave of red-hot desire. You rolled your hips again, reveling in the way his fingers tightened on your waist, digging into your soft flesh as if trying to ground himself in the moment.
"I don't want you to behave," you murmured, feeling bold and brazen under his heated gaze.
His eyes flashed at your words, darkening with a sudden intensity that sent a thrill through you. He captured your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as if trying to memorize your taste. Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.
But suddenly, even the thin fabric of your clothes felt too much, too heavy and confining against your oversensitive skin. You pulled away just long enough to yank the tunic over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought, leaving you completely bare before him.
His eyes darkened even further as they raked over your naked body, taking in every curve and plane with a hunger that bordered on reverence. He reached up, cupping your breast in his calloused palm, his thumb circling your nipple teasingly. You gasped at the touch, electricity arcing from your chest straight down to your core, hips bucking involuntarily as you arched into his hand, silently begging for more.
"Chan," you whimpered, frustration and need mixing together as his touch continued to tease, to dance along the edges of what you really wanted. "Please."
He chuckled against your skin, the sound low and rich and full of dark promise, sending shivers down your spine. "Please, what?" he murmured, lips brushing against your throat, breath hot against the damp skin there.
"Touch me," you demanded, grinding your hips harder against his erection, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. "I need—"
But before you could finish, his hands were already moving, one slipping between your bodies to stroke at your most sensitive spot. You cried out, hips bucking wildly as he circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, the calloused skin providing just the right amount of friction. His teeth grazed against your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as you writhed against him, desperate for more, for everything he could give you.
"Is this what you need, Princess?" he murmured, lips moving against your throat, tongue darting out to soothe the sting of his bites. "You need me to make you fall apart on my fingers?"
You could only nod frantically, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, a spring wound too tight, ready to snap at any moment. He kept stroking, adjusting his pace to match the desperate rock of your hips, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every brush of his thumb, every roll of his hips against yours.
And when his teeth sank into your neck, just hard enough to sting, just hard enough to send you tumbling over the edge, you shattered apart, crying out his name like a prayer as ecstasy crashed over you, wave after wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure pulsing through your veins.
Afterwards, you collapsed against him, boneless and spent, your body trembling with aftershocks as you struggled to catch your breath. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he pressed gentle kisses to your hair, your temple, anywhere he could reach.
"Chan," you whispered, your voice tremulous with want. "I need more. I want to feel you inside me – all of you."
His gaze darkened with desire, understanding your meaning instantly. With a soft groan, he shifted, removing his trousers so that there were no barriers between you. Your eyes roamed over his nude form, drinking in the planes and angles of his body, the mix of strength and vulnerability in his bare skin.
Gently, he eased you onto your back on the narrow cot, settling himself over you, his body a warm, welcome weight. His hardness brushed against your slick folds, and you shuddered at the contact, your hips rising to meet him instinctively. "Are you certain?" he rasped, even as his body shook with the effort of holding back.
In answer, you reached down between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance, your intent clear. "Please, Chan. I need you. I'm ready."
With a shuddering breath, he began to press into you slowly, with exquisite care. You gasped at the initial stretch, your body adjusting to accommodate him, the unfamiliar sensation of being filled, completed. Inch by tantalizing inch, he sheathed himself within you, until at last, you were joined completely.
For a long moment, he held himself still, buried to the hilt inside you, allowing you time to adjust. He kissed you deeply, a tangle of tongues and teeth, before he began to move, setting a slow, rolling pace. Pleasure built between you with each glide, each rocking thrust, an inferno of sensation. Your legs wound around his hips, heels digging into his lower back, urging him impossibly deeper.
"Princess," he groaned against your lips, "you feel incredible. I've never...I can't..." He trailed off with a shudder, losing himself in the rising tide of passion, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the feel of you gripping him tightly, the perfect slide of your body against his.
You met his movements, angling your hips to take him even deeper, relishing in the incredible fullness, the sweet ache that bordered on pain, your body stretched to its limit. With each stroke, the coil of pleasure in your core wound tighter, bringing you closer and closer to the brink. Your fingernails dug into his back, scoring his skin, urging him on, desperate for the crescendo you could feel building.
His thrusts grew faster, harder, the steady rhythm fracturing into desperate, pounding need. You moved with him, helpless cries spilling from your lips, lost to everything but the slide of his body in yours, the symphony of passion rising between you. At last, with a sharp cry, your climax overtook you, inner muscles clenching around him as ecstasy crashed through you, a tidal wave of sensation that left you breathless.
Feeling you shatter beneath him, your body gripping him like a vice, Chan followed you over the edge with a ragged groan, his hips slamming against yours erratically as he spilled himself deep inside you, filling you with his essence. For a long moment, you clung to each other, chests heaving, skin damp with sweat, as the aftershocks of pleasure slowly faded, leaving you both boneless and sated.
As your breathing gradually steadied, Chan shifted, rolling onto his side and gathering you into his arms. Your head rested against his chest, where the steady thrum of his heartbeat echoed in your ears—a soothing rhythm that seemed to sync with your own. His fingers traced gentle paths through your hair, each touch tender, grounding you in the warmth of his embrace.
"That was... incredible," you murmured, your voice still laced with breathlessness.
A slow smile spread across his lips, his dark eyes soft with both satisfaction and something deeper—something reverent. "You are incredible," he corrected, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "I've never felt anything like that before."
You nestled closer, your fingers idly drawing lazy patterns over his skin. A deep sense of peace settled over you, a contentment that went beyond mere words. "Neither have I," you admitted, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. "It's like we were made for each other."
His hold on you tightened slightly, his grip firm yet gentle, as if he never wanted to let go. "We were," he murmured with quiet certainty. "And I don’t ever intend on letting you go"
Your breath hitched as you met his gaze, the depth of emotion in his eyes mirroring your own. "You don’t have to," you whispered, the words slipping out like a vow. "I'm yours, Chan. Forever."
A flicker of something intense passed over his features—relief, devotion, love. He tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. This one wasn’t hurried or desperate; it was a promise, a seal on the words you had spoken. A kiss filled with all the love, passion, and unspoken commitments that tethered you to him, now and always.
As your breathing gradually steadied, Chan shifted, rolling onto his side and gathering you into his arms. Your head rested against his chest, where the steady thrum of his heartbeat echoed in your ears—a soothing rhythm that seemed to sync with your own. His fingers traced gentle paths through your hair, each touch tender, grounding you in the warmth of his embrace.
The cabin was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of the forest outside. You could still feel the night’s chill clinging to your bare skin as you woke, blinking a few times before you realized that Chan had gotten up.
He stood across the room, hands braced against the wooden table, his head bowed slightly as he took deep breaths. The tension in his shoulders had not eased, and you could see the war waging inside of him. He had fought for you, risked everything to bring you here, but neither of you knew what would come next.
“Chan,” you said softly.
He didn’t look at you right away. Instead, he let out a slow exhale before straightening. “I should go check the perimeter. Make sure we weren’t followed.”
“You think Taeyong will send someone after us this quickly?” The question tasted bitter on your tongue.
Chan’s jaw clenched. “If he realizes you’re missing, he won’t rest until you’re back in his grasp. He’s not the type to let go of something he thinks belongs to him.”
A shiver ran through you, though it wasn’t from the cold. “Then we don’t let him find me.”
Chan finally looked at you, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable. “It won’t be that simple, Princess.”
You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. “Then tell me what we do,” you whispered. “Because I can’t—I can’t go back.”
His gaze softened, and before you could say anything more, he was in front of you. His calloused fingers brushed your cheek, the touch grounding you in a way nothing else could. “I won’t let him take you,” he murmured, the promise thick in his voice. “Not now. Not ever.”
Your breath hitched. “Then we fight.”
Chan let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. “It’s not just a fight. It’s a war.”
You knew that. You had known that the moment you realized the man you had been promised to was the one behind your abduction. But the truth didn’t scare you as much as the thought of being trapped again. Of being used as a pawn in a game you never asked to play.
“I’d rather die fighting than go back to him,” you said firmly.
Chan’s expression darkened. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
His hand tightened against your cheek for a moment, his thumb grazing over your skin like he was memorizing the feel of you. Then, with a sharp inhale, he pulled away. “Go back to sleep. I’ll return soon.”
You wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that sleep would not come easy now, but you knew it was useless. Chan was a soldier first, and right now, his instincts told him to protect. To scout the area. To make sure you were safe.
So you let him go.
You watched as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself and slipped out into the night, his silhouette disappearing into the trees. Only then did you let yourself collapse onto the bed again.
As the fire crackled beside you, one thought remained at the forefront of your mind.
Taeyong would come for you.
And you had to be ready.
The hours passed slowly. Every creak of the wooden cabin, every gust of wind outside made your heart lurch in fear. Sleep was impossible. Instead, you lay curled beneath the blanket, staring at the flickering fire, waiting for Chan to return.
When the door finally creaked open, your breath caught. Your fingers gripped the edges of the blanket instinctively, but the tension eased the moment you saw Chan step inside. His hair was damp with sweat, his cloak dusted with dirt and leaves, but his sharp eyes met yours immediately, scanning you like he was making sure you were still safe.
“Nothing,” he muttered, closing the door behind him and bolting it shut. “No signs of anyone tracking us.”
Relief flooded you, but it was short-lived. “That won’t last,” you said quietly. “Taeyong—he’ll come eventually.”
Chan let out a slow breath and tugged off his cloak, tossing it onto the chair. “Yeah. I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders still tight with tension.
You sat up. “Then what do we do?”
Chan hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his expression unreadable. “First, you rest,” he said, his voice softer now, but firm. “You’re exhausted.”
You shook your head. “So are you.”
He exhaled sharply, then crouched down in front of you. His hands rested on the edge of the blanket, close but not quite touching. “Y/N.” His voice was quieter now, but there was something raw in it, something that made your chest tighten. “I need you to trust me.”
You searched his face, finding nothing but determination and something deeper—something unspoken. “I do.”
His lips parted slightly, as if the words had caught him off guard. His fingers twitched against the fabric, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The fire cast golden light over his face, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes.
Your heart pounded.
You reached out, your fingers brushing against his.
Chan didn’t move away.
Instead, his hand turned, his fingers wrapping around yours. “I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured, like a promise.
You swallowed. “And if they find us?”
His jaw clenched. “Then I’ll fight.”
His grip on your hand tightened, just for a moment, before he let go. “Get some sleep,” he said again, standing up. “I’ll stay up for a while, keep watch.”
You wanted to argue, but the exhaustion in your bones was undeniable. So instead, you nodded, reluctantly lying back down.
As you closed your eyes, you felt Chan sit on the edge of the bed, close but not too close. His presence was steady, grounding.
Soon you were fast asleep, letting the darkness of slumber wash over you.
The night passed in restless fragments. You drifted in and out of sleep, haunted by the echo of Taeyong’s voice in your memories, by the phantom sensation of cold metal shackles around your wrists. Each time you stirred, you felt Chan’s presence nearby—silent, unwavering. He never left the edge of the bed. Even when exhaustion surely clawed at him, he stayed.
By the time the first traces of dawn crept through the cabin’s small window, you turned onto your side, blinking up at him. He was still awake. His posture was tense, his gaze fixed on the dying embers in the fireplace.
"You didn’t sleep," you murmured.
Chan’s lips quirked slightly, but there was no humor in it. "Couldn’t."
You pushed yourself up slowly, stretching out the stiffness in your limbs. "You can’t protect me if you collapse from exhaustion."
His jaw clenched, and he ran a hand down his face. "I’ll rest when we’re safe."
"You always say that," you whispered. "But when will that be? When we’re halfway across the kingdom? When Taeyong’s forces are at the doorstep?" You exhaled, voice growing softer. "You’re not invincible, Chan."
His eyes flickered to yours, something dark and unreadable shifting behind them. "I can’t afford to be anything else right now."
The weight of his words settled between you. You understood—gods, you understood. But it didn’t make it any easier to watch him break himself for your sake.
You hesitated before reaching out, your fingers brushing against his. He stiffened slightly but didn’t pull away.
"Just for a little while," you murmured. "Close your eyes. Let yourself breathe."
For a long moment, he didn’t respond. His gaze searched yours, like he was trying to find something—assurance, maybe, or a reason to allow himself this small mercy.
Finally, with a slow, reluctant sigh, he gave in.
"Fine," he muttered, shifting back against the headboard. "But only for a little while."
A small smile ghosted your lips as you laid back down beside him. The space between you was small, but the warmth of his presence was enough. His breathing slowed, his shoulders gradually losing some of their tension.
The peace didn’t last long.
You didn’t know how much time had passed—an hour, maybe two—before a sound outside snapped you both back into reality. A rustling. Faint, but deliberate. The kind of sound that didn’t belong to the wind or the shifting trees.
Chan was already moving before you could react. His body tensed, hand reaching instinctively for the dagger strapped to his belt. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay silent. Your heart pounded as you sat up, gripping the blanket like it could somehow ground you.
The rustling came again. Closer this time.
Chan’s eyes darted to the door, then to the small window above the fireplace. His movements were careful, controlled, but you could see it—the flicker of unease in his gaze.
Then, a voice. Low. Muted. Speaking in hushed tones.
Not alone.
Your stomach twisted. Had they found you already? Was it Taeyong’s men? You gripped the sleeve of your tunic with pure fear.
Chan shifted closer to the door, positioning himself between you and whatever was outside. He gripped the dagger tightly, muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike.
Then—
A knock.
Three slow, deliberate taps.
Your breath hitched.
Chan didn’t move, didn’t even breathe.
Then, a voice—gravelly, older, laced with something familiar.
"Open up."
Chan’s eyes narrowed. He hesitated only a second before unbolting the door and pulling it open just enough to see. You couldn’t see who was outside, but Chan’s body relaxed a fraction.
A gruff sigh. "Took you long enough," the voice muttered.
Then the door opened wider, and an older man stepped inside. His beard was streaked with gray, his clothes worn from travel. But his eyes—sharp, assessing—locked onto you immediately.
"So, this is the princess."
You stiffened. Chan stepped slightly in front of you again, his protective instinct flaring. "Not here," he muttered. "Talk inside."
The man gave a curt nod and shut the door behind him. The air in the room shifted, heavy with unspoken tension.
"Who is he?" you finally asked, voice quieter than you intended.
Chan glanced at you, then back at the man. "An old friend."
The man snorted. "That’s one way to put it." His gaze flicked back to you. "And I’m the one who’s gonna make sure you don’t end up back in that bastard prince’s hands."
Your breath caught.
Chan’s grip tightened on the dagger. "You said you had a way out."
The man’s expression darkened. "I do. But it won’t be easy. And if we don’t move fast, you’re as good as caught."
Chan’s posture remained rigid, his eyes locked onto the man with the same guarded intensity he always carried. You knew that look. It meant he was calculating, deciding if he could trust this so-called friend.
You, on the other hand, were still reeling.
"How do you know about Taeyong?" you asked, your voice firmer now, the fear buried beneath your growing anger.
The man turned his sharp gaze on you, lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. "You think the world doesn’t know? Word spreads fast when a prince betrays his own kingdom. Taeyong’s been buying loyalty left and right, gathering allies in the shadows. The moment he took you, the balance shifted."
Your stomach twisted. You’d known Taeyong was dangerous, but hearing it spoken so plainly—hearing that his influence reached beyond the castle walls—made it feel even more real.
Chan’s grip tightened around the dagger. "How do we know you’re not one of them?"
The man sighed, rubbing his temples. "Because if I was, you’d be dead already, boy. And the princess would be back in chains." His eyes flicked to you again, softer this time. "I’m here because I owe someone a debt. Someone who would want her safe."
You frowned. "Who?"
The man hesitated for just a moment. Then he said a name you hadn’t expected.
"Your mother."
Your breath caught.
Your mother had died years ago—before Taeyong, before war had ever loomed on the horizon. She had been a queen of grace and wisdom, beloved by the people, and yet her death had always felt… off. A fever, they had said. A sudden illness.
But now, hearing this man speak of her as if she had planned for something beyond the grave—
Your heart pounded. "You knew her?"
The man nodded slowly. "Not well. But well enough to know she saw this coming. She told me if things ever turned, I’d have to make sure her daughter didn’t end up a pawn in someone else’s game."
Your hands clenched in your lap.
Your mother had known.
And she hadn’t told you.
Chan was watching you carefully, his gaze softening just a fraction. You weren’t sure if it was because he saw the turmoil brewing inside you or because he already knew this truth and had been waiting for you to find out.
You took a slow breath, forcing yourself to focus. There would be time for grief later. Right now, survival was the only thing that mattered.
"What’s the plan?" Chan asked, his voice breaking the heavy silence.
The man straightened. "There’s a caravan leaving before sunrise. Merchants, mostly. They don’t ask questions, and they don’t check faces too closely. You slip in with them, make it across the river, and from there, we get you to the rebellion."
Chan tensed beside you. "The rebellion?"
The man smirked. "You think you’re the only ones who want Taeyong gone?"
Your breath came faster. There were people out there fighting against him. People who hadn’t been silenced.
Hope.
It was dangerous, but it was there.
Chan turned to you then, searching your face. "It’s your choice, Y/N."
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the decision settle on your shoulders. Running had never felt like enough, but fighting… fighting was something new.
And maybe it was time.
You met Chan’s eyes and nodded.
"We go."
The man—who still hadn’t given his name—nodded in approval, moving swiftly to the small wooden table near the hearth. He pulled out a rolled-up map from his satchel, flattening it against the surface. The firelight flickered over its surface, casting shadows across the jagged lines marking the kingdom’s borders.
Chan moved closer, standing protectively near you, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. His body was tense, ready for anything.
The man tapped a spot near the eastern river. "The caravan is camped here for the night. They’ll move before dawn. If we reach them in time, we can blend in before the morning checkpoint." His finger traced the route southward. "Once we cross into the borderlands, we break off. The rebellion has outposts in the foothills."
You studied the map, your stomach twisting with nerves. "How do we know they won’t recognize me?"
The man glanced at you, his eyes flicking briefly over your posture, then back to the map. "It’s not about recognition. It’s about being inconspicuous. We’ll keep to the shadows, move quickly, and avoid the main roads. You’ll have to be just another face in the crowd, no different from the many others that pass through the checkpoints."
You frowned, knowing how much effort it would take to mask everything that set you apart. Every detail of your life—every expectation and every burden—had been formed under the spotlight of the royal court. To pretend you were ordinary felt impossible, but survival demanded it.
Chan’s jaw clenched. "We won’t be able to just walk in and out without drawing attention."
The man sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’ve seen the guards at the checkpoint. They’re not looking for anyone in particular. If we move quickly and stay to the back roads, we’ll get through undetected."
You swallowed, your mind racing through the possibilities. "How will we know where to go once we’re past the checkpoint?"
"We’ll stay close, and I’ll guide us from there. You don’t need to worry about the rest." His voice was firm, a reassurance that didn’t quite reach your chest. "Now, let’s prepare."
~~~TIME SKIP~~~
It took you three days to meet up with the rebellion.
The journey had been grueling. Each day felt like it bled into the next, the urgency pressing down on you with every step. Every shadow seemed to hide a threat, and the silence of the wilderness was only broken by the constant rush of your footsteps and the occasional murmur of Chan and the man leading you.
By the time you reached the rebellion’s hideout, you were exhausted, physically and mentally. The exhaustion settled deep into your bones, but you couldn’t allow yourself to relax just yet. Not when the stakes were so high.
The hideout wasn’t much—just an old, decrepit farmhouse hidden deep in the forest. The rebellion's members were holed up here, their movements quiet and calculated. The moment you stepped into the small, dimly lit space, your eyes darted around, taking in the ragtag group of fighters. They looked wary, sizing you up, but there was something else there too. Recognition. The kind that came from desperation, from being on the edge of something bigger than themselves.
"You’re late," a voice cut through the silence.
A tall, lean man stepped forward from the shadows. His eyes were sharp, calculating, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath the hardened exterior.
"We had some... complications," Chan said, his voice tight but steady. "But we made it."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Complications? Such as?"
You tensed, but Chan gave you a brief, reassuring glance, his hand resting subtly on your lower back. He was trying to calm you, to keep you from reacting. The last thing you needed now was for the rebellion to question your loyalty or your intentions.
"We ran into some trouble along the way," Chan continued, his gaze unwavering. "Nothing we couldn't handle."
The man nodded slowly, as though weighing Chan’s words. "And the princess?" His eyes flickered to you, making you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "I take it she's the reason for the delay."
You straightened, ready to speak, but Chan beat you to it, his tone laced with a warning. "She’s with me. And she’s no less determined than the rest of us."
The man eyed you again, lingering for just a moment longer before he nodded. "Fine. I’ll leave it to you to explain."
He motioned for you to follow him, and you did, Chan at your side as the others parted to let you through. You couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all watching, studying every move you made. And why wouldn’t they? You were no longer the princess. You were an outsider, just another face among them. But they didn’t know who you truly were, not really. And you didn’t know how much longer you could keep up the pretense.
Inside a small, makeshift war room, the leader of the rebellion—whom you hadn’t yet met—stood over a table littered with maps. He didn’t look up as you entered, but the tension in the room grew, a thick silence hanging between you all.
"You made it," the leader said, his voice low and cold. "Now we plan."
Chan leaned in, listening intently as the leader began to outline the next steps, but you found your mind drifting, your thoughts tumbling over one another. You had been living a lie for so long now—pretending to be someone you weren’t, pretending you were just like them. But the rebellion was your only hope now. It was the only chance you had left to survive, and perhaps to find something more than just survival.
Your gaze flickered over to Chan, his face hardened with focus as he listened to the plans. His presence was a constant, a steadying force in the chaos that surrounded you. But even with him by your side, you couldn’t escape the weight of the situation, the constant worry gnawing at you.
"You’re not alone," Chan murmured quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. He hadn’t even turned to look at you, but his words wrapped around you like a protective shield.
You leaned in slightly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I never thought I’d end up here."
Chan’s hand brushed against yours, a silent reassurance. "You’ll get through this. We all will. Together."
You wanted to believe him, to let the words settle in your chest and replace the fear, but it wasn’t that simple. The rebellion was still a risky gamble, and so many unknowns lay ahead. But for now, you had no choice but to place your trust in them—and in him.
The leader of the rebellion finally looked up, his gaze settling on you. "You’ve been trained in the ways of the court. You know how to play a part. But this is different. The rebellion needs more than just your skills. We need your full commitment. Your life, your safety—it’s not yours anymore. Understand?"
You nodded, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. It wasn’t just about survival anymore. You were here to fight, to take a stand, and there would be no turning back.
"Good," the leader said, his tone colder than before.
You glanced at Chan, catching the fleeting warmth in his eyes.
The days leading up to the attack on the castle felt like a blur, each one filled with training, planning, and a constant sense of anticipation. The rebellion had gathered their forces, and the tension in the air was palpable. You had taken your place among them, no longer a princess in a palace, but a fighter with everything on the line. But despite the intensity of it all, there was still a sense of unease gnawing at you—a feeling that something wasn’t right.
Chan had been by your side every step of the way, his presence a steadying force. There was no denying the bond that had grown between you both, the unspoken connection that had deepened over the past days. Yet, despite all the closeness, he had kept a certain distance, as if shielding you from the full weight of the battle that was about to unfold.
"Stay behind the lines," Chan had told you more than once, his voice softer than usual, the concern clear in his eyes. "It’s not safe for you out there."
You knew it was a command, not a suggestion, but part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration. You had already proven yourself capable, already fought beside him, and yet, here you were, told to stay back.
"You can’t tell me to just stand by," you’d snapped once, your voice sharp. "This isn’t just your fight, Chan. I’m in this with you. No matter what."
He had said nothing in response, just a flicker of something in his gaze—something unreadable. He was trying to protect you, and for all his strength, his resolve, there was still that vulnerability when it came to you. It made your chest tighten, but you swallowed the feelings down. You couldn’t let them get in the way.
As the first light of dawn crept across the sky, the rebellion gathered in formation. The drums began to sound, signaling the start of the battle. You stood behind the lines, sword in hand, heart pounding as the anticipation grew.
"I’ll be back," Chan said to you, his eyes locked on yours for a beat longer than usual. There was a fleeting tenderness there, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. "Stay safe."
And then, with a final squeeze of your hand, he was gone, charging into the fray with the rest of the rebels. You watched as he disappeared into the chaos, your heart in your throat.
The battle was chaos from the start. The clash of steel, the shouts of men, the roar of battle cries—it was overwhelming. You remained behind the front lines, doing what you could to help where necessary, coordinating the defense, directing others, but every moment you spent away from the fight felt like an eternity.
Then, a shout broke through the noise. A loud, desperate cry that made your blood run cold.
"Chan!" you heard someone yell, the voice panicked.
Your heart skipped, and without thinking, you darted toward the front lines, your feet moving faster than you could process. You knew you shouldn’t be there. You knew it wasn’t safe. But you had to see for yourself.
As you emerged from behind the barricades, you saw him—Chan, bloodied and staggering, a sword wound across his side. His armor was dented, his face set in a grimace of pain, but he was still fighting, still pushing forward, swinging his sword with sheer determination.
You rushed toward him, but someone else got there first. The rebels around him were struggling to keep the enemy at bay, but it wasn’t enough. He was too far from the rest of the forces, and the enemies were closing in.
“Chan!” you shouted again, panic rising in your chest. You pushed your way through the chaos, your heart hammering as you neared him.
He saw you, his expression flickering with something between relief and frustration. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse, strained, but there was a softness to it—a concern that made you want to scream.
“Chan, you’re hurt!” You reached him, gripping his arm to steady him, your eyes scanning the gash on his side. The blood was flowing too fast.
“I’m fine,” he gritted out, but it was clear he wasn’t. “You need to go back—this is too dangerous for you.”
“Not without you.” You refused to leave his side, knowing time was running out.
His hand found yours, his grip weak but insistent. “I’m not going anywhere until we win this,” he said, though his words were laced with pain. The enemy wasn’t stopping.
The battle had shifted again. More reinforcements for the other side. But you couldn’t just leave him, not when he needed you.
“Chan, you’re bleeding—you're not fine!" You pulled him closer to you, desperation taking over. He winced, clearly in more pain than he let on. The sight of him like this twisted something in your chest, the vulnerability of the man who had always been your protector, now so exposed, so human.
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted, though his breath was becoming shallow. "We need to push them back, or we won’t make it."
Your heart was racing, but your mind was focused. "We need to get you out of here first."
A sharp cry came from another soldier, and the pressure of the situation heightened. With the enemy bearing down on them, it was clear you had no time to waste. You gritted your teeth and grabbed Chan’s arm, pulling him toward a small alcove that offered some cover.
"We’ll regroup," you said, though it was more of a prayer than a plan. You didn’t care about the battle right now—just getting him safe.
But before you could do anything more, an explosion rocked the area nearby. The ground trembled beneath your feet, and smoke filled the air. You instinctively pressed yourself against Chan, shielding him as best as you could.
The battle raged on, the sound of weapons clashing and soldiers shouting filling your ears. You had no idea what was happening around you, only that you had to keep moving.
But when you turned to look at Chan, you saw the strain in his eyes, the way his hand weakly held yours, and you knew. This battle wasn’t over, but for him, it was. He was slipping, and fast.
"Stay with me, Chan," you whispered, your voice breaking as you guided him further away from the front lines. "Please."
"I’m here," he whispered back, but it was faint, and you knew the fight in him was dimming. You couldn’t leave him. Not now.
The sound of the battle was fading, but it didn’t matter. You just had to get him to safety.
You refused to let go of Chan’s hand as you dragged him toward the safety of a nearby tent, your heart pounding with every ragged breath he took. His blood was warm against your skin, seeping from the wound in his side at an alarming rate. He was trying to keep himself upright, but you could feel his strength slipping.
“Just a little further,” you urged, voice tight with panic. You weren’t sure if you were saying it to reassure him or yourself.
Chan let out a low groan, his body sagging against yours. “You should’ve stayed back,” he murmured, his voice weaker than you’d ever heard it.
“And let you bleed out on the battlefield?” you snapped, adjusting your grip on his arm. “Not happening.”
Finally, you reached the tent. Two rebel soldiers rushed forward, their expressions morphing into shock when they saw Chan’s condition.
“Get a healer!” you barked at them. One of the soldiers ran off without hesitation, while the other helped you ease Chan down onto a pile of blankets.
Chan hissed as he landed on his back, his hand gripping yours weakly. His face was pale, his forehead slick with sweat, but his gaze remained locked on you. “You shouldn’t see me like this.”
Tears burned the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You shook your head fiercely. “Don’t say that. I’m right where I need to be.”
The flap of the tent burst open, and the healer rushed in, dropping to Chan’s side with practiced efficiency. You scooted back to give them space, your hands shaking as you watched them work.
He was going to be okay. He had to be.
The healer pressed cloth to Chan’s wound, and he tensed, his jaw tightening in pain. His fingers curled into the blankets, a low groan slipping from his lips.
“You’re lucky the blade didn’t go deeper,” the healer muttered, pulling out supplies from their satchel. “But you’ve lost a lot of blood. You need rest.”
Chan huffed out a tired breath. “No time for that,” he mumbled.
You clenched your fists. “You’re not going anywhere until you’ve healed,” you told him firmly. “I don’t care how much you want to throw yourself back into battle.”
His lips twitched, like he wanted to smirk but was too exhausted to do it. “Bossy.”
You let out a shaky laugh, despite the lump in your throat. “Someone has to be, since you clearly have no sense of self-preservation.”
The healer shot you both a look. “If you want him to survive, let me do my job.”
You swallowed hard and nodded, shifting back even further, though you refused to leave the tent.
Chan’s eyes flickered toward you as the medic worked, his gaze softening. “You really aren’t leaving, huh?”
You shook your head. “Not a chance.”
His fingers twitched slightly, and you reached out, lacing them with yours. His grip was weaker than before, but he still held on. Even now, in the middle of a war, with blood staining your hands and chaos raging outside, you knew one thing for certain—
“I love you.” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, but you didn’t regret them. You meant them with every fiber of your being.
Chan’s breath hitched. His hand squeezed yours as tightly as he could manage. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice raw, like he’d been holding it back for too long.
A tear finally escaped down your cheek, but you didn’t care. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
“I’m going to make sure you’re okay,” you promised.
Chan smiled weakly, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. “With you here… I already am.”
The battlefield was chaos—clashing steel, dying screams, and the thick stench of blood in the air. But despite the wreckage of war, one undeniable truth cut through the carnage: the tide had turned in your favor.
The enemy forces, once ruthless under Lord Hwang's command, were breaking. You could see it in their frantic movements, the way they hesitated before striking. The moment the news spread—Lord Hwang was captured—their will to fight crumbled.
Your father, alongside Taeyong, had fallen in battle, cut down in the very war he had, without realizing it, waged against his own people.
The sight of his lifeless body on the bloodstained field had sent a shiver through you, not of grief, but of finality. His reign had ended not in grandeur, not in control, but in ruin. And now, as the last of his soldiers dropped their weapons, as Taeyong was killed and Hwang was captured, it was truly over.
A sharp cry of victory erupted from your troops. The war—the one that had stolen so much, that had nearly cost you everything—was won.
A strong, familiar hand grasped yours. You turned, breath catching in your throat as Chan stood beside you, blood seeping from a wound in his side, but alive. Alive and standing with you, despite the battle that had nearly torn him from you.
“You’re hurt,” you breathed, your fingers tightening around his.
His lips twitched, exhaustion weighing on his features. “It’ll take more than a battlefield to keep me from you.”
Tears burned at the edges of your vision, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now. You pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart beneath your palm. He had fought for you, bled for you, and yet he was still standing.
Your throat tightened, your heart aching with the weight of everything you had both endured. “I don’t want to lose you again, Chan.”
He exhaled shakily, resting his forehead against yours. “You won’t. I swear it.”
And then, despite the battlefield, despite the onlookers, despite the remnants of war still surrounding you—he kissed you.
It wasn’t a kiss of desperation, or relief. It was a promise.
A promise of forever.
One month had passed since the war ended.
The city, once darkened by the rule of your father, was beginning to heal. The streets bustled with life, no longer weighed down by fear. The people—your people—had chosen you as their queen, and with that came the responsibility of rebuilding everything your father had destroyed.
As you stood in the grand hall of the palace, the air was thick with anticipation. The golden crown rested in the High Councilor’s hands, moments away from being placed upon your head.
You glanced to your side, where Chan stood, dressed in ceremonial attire. His wound had healed, though faint scars remained—a reminder of the battle that had nearly taken him from you. But more than that, it was a reminder of everything he had fought for. Everything you had fought for together.
When the crown was finally placed atop your head, the room erupted into cheers. You weren’t just the daughter of the fallen king. You weren’t just the girl who had once been trapped behind the palace walls.
You were the queen.
Chan’s hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours as he leaned down slightly, murmuring just for you, “So, how does it feel?”
You turned to him, a smile playing at your lips. “A little less terrifying with you beside me.”
His grip tightened. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
The coronation bled into the wedding—two moments intertwined, symbolizing not just the end of an era, but the beginning of something greater.
As you stood before the people, vows exchanged beneath the flickering glow of the palace lanterns, you realized something—this wasn’t just about winning a war. This was about everything that came after. About building something new, something better.
As Chan kissed you before the crowd, sealing your marriage with the weight of love and devotion, you knew one thing for certain.
This was the beginning of forever.
Thank you, dearest readers, for enduring that grammatical mess I call a story. I might make a part 2, depending on how well this does. We'll see. Please like, comment and reblog, thanks :)
***My works are not allowed for translation or reposting as your own without my permission***
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sucking him off
he's tired and he can't seem to sleep. still high on adrenaline so you decide to ease his body...
-contains mature themes (this is very fluffy and hyunjin is so babie)
touring around different countries, across continents and having to perform for 3 hours nearly every two days was exhausting.
watching as hyunjin plops on the bed after reaching the hotel after the macau concert. seungmin and jeongin deciding to go live while hyunjin makes an appearance. staying for some time before he returns back.
sitting on the edge of the bed, quietly watching you cook some instant cup noodles for y'all.
he sniffles, sighing loudly and you can't help but laugh at his almost puppy like behaviour. turning around to see him flat on the bed. laying on his back with his legs spread apart. bathroom slippers hanging off his feet funnily.
"m'tiredddd" he groans, stretching his arms up. rolling his head around in the soft pillow.
bringing his hand down to pat his tummy. making all sorts of disgruntled noises while he lifts his legs up and drops them down. letting out another sigh.
continuing to press his lower abdomen with a firm hand. breathing slowly. he looks so calm, it makes you want to give him the world.
he's exhausted. but he can't fall asleep. adrenaline still rushing in his veins. still hyper from the concert yet too tired to even have energy to get up.
"..jinnie"
you mumble sweetly, deciding to give him something to relax. or maybe you just needed to calm yourself down after seeing him lay down in such a seemingly sexy way.
"mh- MH?!" he hums. going higher in pitch when you sit between his legs.
pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. taking him by surprise. neverthess he stays still, sinking deeper into the mattress. pressing kisses over his covered crotch.
"b-baby" is all he whispers, lifting his hips up for you to tug his tracksuit pants down just enough.
the cardigan he had on, exposing the tank top he was wearing underneath. exhaling as you fiddle with his waistband.
pulling it down to wrap your fingers around his hardening length. never failing to always surprise you with how pretty his dick looked. (i believe hyunjin has the prettiest most beautiful elegant dick and you cannot convince me otherwise)
smiling to yourself at how he pats his stomach in anticipation. cardigan sleeves so long that only the tips of his fingers stick out.
placing a small kiss to the tip, tasting his slick on your lips. so you sweetly circle your tongue over his weeping slit. body tingling with how loved you were feeling.
"m-mh babyyyy"
hyunjin drawls. voice cracking ever so slightly. absolutely strained after singing. you glance up at him. only seeing the underside of his chin and his heaving chest.
sticking your tongue out to lick a long stripe from his base all the way up to his tip. taking him in your mouth with a relieved sigh.
god, you loved thus man so much that you dreamt of doing this just to ease your mind.
"s-shit just like that"
moaning softly. goosebumps rising on his skin when you slide your hand underneath his tank top.
earning a surprised little squeak at your cold fingertips. thoughtlessly you suck on him. eyes closing with the pleasant weight on your tongue. warm and heavy.
breathing out shakily from your nose. his bigger hands sliding on top of yours. interlacing your fingers while you place wet sloppy kisses all over his dick.
looking up to see his chest heave. throwing his head further back and whining.
"cumming! c-cummi..."
hyunjin groans. squeezing your hand. feeling him twitch in your mouth and you take him deeper.
moaning your name sweetly while he cums harder than ever. legs closing around you. arching his back with a long drawn out whine.
you swallow. tasting the thick white slick that fills your mouth. sqeezing his hand reassuringly.
when you do lift your head up. his eyes are struggling to stay open.
making grabby hands at you sleepily.
"hold me, baby"
he whispers, grinning happily when you lay on top of him. kissing him on the cheek.
.
.
.
.
.
.
i love this liddol dumpling
ex!seungmin who thinks about you when he receives his diploma during his graduation in law school because he couldn’t have done it without you, and it breaks his heart that while he’d reached his dreams, you couldn’t be there to see him make it.
he’d remember the countless sleepless nights you’d stayed up with him to review for his tests
or when you’d urge him to get some rest or eat his meals when he’d forget sometimes
you were there to help him realize he could do it, coming with him to apply for numerous universities
you were there from the beginning, so why couldn’t you be there to see him reach the end?
and it was a mutual decision—the breakup. but he finds that, as he reaps the rewards of his efforts, it doesn’t feel right that you aren’t in the crowd
that night, seungmin ponders over whether to call you or not
instead, he sends a few text messages
he doesn’t think he could talk to you without crying, doesn’t think he’s ready to hear your voice again
seungmin (9:57pm): i graduated today haha
seungmin (9:58pm): i just wanted to say thank you. i know that things are over between us, but it’s undeniable the influence you had on me while i was in law school. i don’t know if i’d be able to make it this far if you hadn’t believed in me the way you did. thank you. i can’t say it enough.
seungmin (10:01pm): there’s so much i want to tell you, but i guess i don’t really have the right to do that anymore. still, i hope you realize how much you’ve changed the way i looked at life (for the better, i can hear you complaining already)
seungmin (10:03pm): oh, and i found this letter i’d written back when i was still in my 1st year. it’s addressed to you, and i vividly remember telling myself to give it to you on the day i graduate. haha, somehow i’d thought we’d still be together when today would come. lmk if you still want it or if it’s too awkward then that’s okay too
seungmin (10:06pm): alright that’s it. sorry if these messages freaked you out a little. i’m not even sure this is still your number
seungmin (10:07pm): thanks again, (name). you are the one person who made me believe i could make it and i did :) thank you
over matcha lattes ୨୧ to something more?
[ 승민 ] ✷ . . 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖼 𝖺𝖼𝖾 — 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗌 and puppies. . ?
۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!seungmin ₊ 𝑓em!reader g. fluff , humour , uni!au , classmates to lovers, skz ensemble. II,3OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ L𝒾BRARY . 𓋜 . cw. bantering , jokes , intimacy. ✦ requested. ! ࿐
yani's note ! ✿ 600 followers aaaa !!!!! also new fic layout, yes, very cutesy very demure. thank you to anon for the lovely request !! >< answering more requested fics soon <3 this might have a sequel, (which is requested by another anon, again.) !! when yn and seungmo are already dating heheheheh. hope you all like it !!! comments, likes, req/asks and reblogs are always appreciated ! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading <3
y/n had always been a walking ray of sunshine. the way she bounded into the university cafeteria every morning, beaming like she had a personal spotlight, made her an unmissable presence. today was no different. with her hair loosely tied into a messy ponytail and a bright yellow cardigan that made her look like spring personified, she wove through the crowd, waving at familiar faces and exchanging cheerful hellos.
"felix!" she called out, spotting her blond-haired best friend at their usual table. felix turned around with an amused grin, holding a tray piled precariously with food.
"you look like you're auditioning for a yogurt commercial,"
"and you'd be the overworked single dad in the background trying to keep me away from sugary snacks," she shot back, grabbing one of the croissants from his tray.
behind them, hyunjin sauntered in, looking like he had just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. he rolled his eyes at their banter, brushing his long hair out of his face. "can you two stop flirting for two seconds? some of us are trying to exist without getting cavities."
felix and y/n gasped in mock offense simultaneously.
"hyun, i'm wounded," y/n said, clutching her chest. "this is friendship, okay? try it sometime."
"not when it looks like a rom-com b-plot," hyunjin deadpanned, sliding into his seat.
as rina and aeri joined the group, the table quickly became a hub of laughter and noise, with jokes flying left and right.
across the room, someone, was watching.
well, watching was a strong word. more like…occasionally glancing up from his laptop. he had a prime spot at the far end of the cafeteria, where he could quietly work on his assignments. most of the time, the noise didn’t bother him. but y/n’s voice had a way of cutting through every other sound—bright, melodic, and so unapologetically full of life.
"you're staring again."
jisung’s teasing voice broke through seungmin’s thoughts. he looked up to see his friend grinning at him from across the table.
"i’m not staring," seungmin said flatly, returning to his notes.
"you’re staring," jeongin chimed in, smirking as he leaned over to snag one of jisung’s fries. "it’s okay, though. we all know you have a soft spot for the sunshine girl."
seungmin shot them both a withering look. "she’s loud. that’s all."
"loud and cute," jisung added. "don’t worry, man. it’s endearing."
before seungmin could retort, y/n’s voice rang out across the cafeteria again, this time much closer.
"seungmin!"
he froze. sure enough, there she was, skipping toward their table like she had all the time in the world.
"why do you guys always sit here by yourselves?" she asked, plopping down in the seat next to him before he could say a word. her friends trailed behind her, chatting amongst themselves but clearly amused by her antics.
"because it’s quiet," seungmin replied, his tone clipped.
"not anymore," jisung whispered, earning a glare from seungmin.
y/n didn’t seem to notice the tension. she leaned over, peering at his laptop screen. "what are you working on?"
"a paper."
"what’s it about?"
seungmin sighed. "you wouldn’t understand."
"oh, come on! try me," she said, resting her chin on her hand and giving him her full attention.
"it’s about the correlation between music theory applications and cognitive development," he said, hoping to scare her off with the overly academic phrasing.
y/n blinked. then she grinned. "that’s so cool! do you think it’s true? like, do people who understand music better think differently?"
seungmin blinked, caught off guard by her genuine curiosity. "well…yes," he admitted. "there’s some evidence that it improves problem-solving skills."
"see? you can explain it in normal-person language," y/n teased, nudging his arm.
the table erupted into laughter, and seungmin fought the urge to roll his eyes. but when he glanced at y/n, her smile was so warm and sincere that he felt his annoyance melt away just a little.
maybe she wasn’t so bad.
"careful, seungmin," jisung whispered. "you might actually start enjoying her company."
"shut it."
it was an overcast morning, the kind where the sky seemed to hold its breath, and the world below carried on in muted anticipation. y/n strolled into her economics lecture, her wavy black hair bouncing slightly as she adjusted the strap of her tote bag. her signature energy had dimmed slightly today; the clouds seemed to tug at her mood, though she masked it well with her usual bright smile.
the lecture hall was buzzing with the chatter of students, most of whom were busy complaining about their upcoming projects. y/n spotted felix waving at her from their usual spot near the back, and she hurried over, plopping into the seat beside him.
“late night again?” felix teased, nudging her with his shoulder.
“guilty,” y/n admitted, stifling a yawn. “i was helping rina practice her speech. you know how she gets—everything has to be perfect.”
felix chuckled. “you’re too nice for your own good.”
before y/n could respond, the professor—a middle-aged man with a perpetually frazzled look—strode into the room, carrying a stack of papers. he set them down with a heavy sigh, silencing the room.
“all right, everyone, settle down. as you know, your mid-semester project accounts for 30% of your grade.”
groans rippled through the room, but y/n straightened in her seat, already scribbling notes.
“i’ll be assigning you partners,” the professor continued, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “the goal is to analyze a real-world economic issue and present a comprehensive report. you’ll have three weeks to complete it.”
y/n exchanged a quick glance with felix, who smirked. “bet you’ll get stuck with someone boring,” he whispered.
“or worse,” y/n whispered back, “someone who doesn’t do their share of the work.”
the professor began calling out names, pairing students at random. y/n listened intently, silently hoping she’d be paired with someone easygoing.
“…kim seungmin and y/n l/n.”
well that wasn't surprising.
her head snapped up.
“seungmin?” she repeated under her breath, her eyes darting toward the other side of the lecture hall.
sure enough, there he was, seated near the front with his usual straight-backed posture and composed expression. he didn’t even look her way, just calmly noted down her name in his notebook.
felix snickered. “good luck. maybe you’ll finally break through his ice-cold demeanor.”
y/n gave him a playful glare before gathering her things and heading down the steps toward seungmin.
as she approached, he glanced up, his dark eyes meeting hers with the faintest hint of surprise.
“hey, partner,” she said cheerfully, trying to ignore the slight knot in her stomach. “looks like we’re stuck together for this one.”
“seems so,” he replied, his tone neutral.
his face, as always, was unreadable. his neatly styled hair and pressed shirt made him look effortlessly put-together, a stark contrast to y/n’s cozy cardigan and slightly scuffed sneakers.
“do you have time to discuss this today?” she asked. “there’s this cafe near campus where—”
“i know the one,” he interrupted. “it’s fine. let’s meet there at two.”
“great!” y/n said, her smile unwavering. “i’ll see you then.”
as the economics lecture had ended, seungmin packed up his belongings with his usual efficiency, slinging his bag over his shoulder. as he stepped out into the corridor, he was immediately intercepted by jisung, who was grinning like he’d just discovered the world’s funniest secret.
“so…” jisung began, falling into step beside him.
seungmin raised an eyebrow. “so what?”
“you’re partnered with her,” jisung said, practically vibrating with glee.
“who’s her?” jeongin chimed in, suddenly appearing at seungmin’s other side.
“y/n,” jisung answered, dragging out her name dramatically.
jeongin’s eyes widened, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “the sunshine girl? the one who makes it her life’s mission to befriend everyone?”
“that’s the one,” jisung confirmed, nudging seungmin with his elbow. “how does it feel to be the chosen one?”
seungmin rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply. “it’s just a project. we’ll get it done, and that’s it.”
ryujin and yuna joined the group then, ryujin immediately catching onto the conversation. “what’s this about?” she asked, her sharp gaze darting between them.
“seungmin got paired with y/n for the econ project,” jeongin supplied, clearly enjoying the situation.
ryujin’s eyebrows shot up. “y/n? oh, this is going to be good.”
“why?” seungmin asked, his tone exasperated.
“because she’s basically your polar opposite,” yuna said, her voice light with amusement. “you avoid people; she attracts them. you’re all about efficiency; she probably spends half her time doodling in her notebooks.”
“you’re underestimating her,” yeji chimed in, catching up to the group. “she’s actually really smart. i’ve seen her in class—she’s not just about the bubbly personality.”
seungmin shot her a look of mild surprise but said nothing.
“still,” jisung said, grinning, “i can’t wait to see how this goes. who knows? maybe she’ll finally melt that ice-cold heart of yours.”
seungmin sighed. “can you all find something else to talk about?”
“not a chance,” jeongin said, and the group dissolved into laughter as they walked toward the campus courtyard.
meanwhile, y/n practically skipped out of the lecture hall, her usual energy returning in full force. she immediately spotted felix, hyunjin, rina, and aeri waiting for her near the lockers.
“well?” felix asked as soon as she approached. “who’s the lucky partner?”
“seungmin,” y/n announced, pulling her bag strap higher on her shoulder.
the group collectively froze.
“seungmin? kim seungmin?” hyunjin said, his voice dripping with disbelief.
“yup,” y/n replied, popping the “p” as she leaned against the locker.
“oh my god,” rina said, covering her mouth with her hand. “the seungmin like the class ace?”
“mr. perfectly composed,” aeri added, folding her arms. “how did that happen?”
y/n shrugged, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “guess the universe thought it’d be fun to put a sunshine and a storm cloud together.”
“do you think he’s annoyed?” felix asked, tilting his head thoughtfully.
“probably,” y/n said with a laugh. “but it’s not like i’m going to let that stop me.”
“i can already picture it,” hyunjin said, his tone dripping with melodrama. “you’ll be all smiles and rainbows, and he’ll sit there glaring at you like you’re the bane of his existence.”
“that’s probably accurate,” y/n admitted, giggling.
“you’re going to have to work hard to get through to him,” rina said. “he’s not exactly the easiest person to talk to.”
“challenge accepted,” y/n declared, holding up a fist in mock determination.
“just don’t overwhelm him,” aeri said, though her smile was teasing. “you have a tendency to… how do i put this… shine a little too brightly sometimes.”
“me? overwhelm someone?” y/n asked, feigning innocence.
“you’re very adamant.”
“but in the best way,” rina added.
“exactly,” y/n said, flashing them a grin. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a coffee date with mr. storm cloud.”
“good luck,” hyunjin called after her as she walked away.
“you’re going to need it!” felix added, laughing.
the air in the cafe was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the dreary gray of the day outside. golden light spilled through the large glass windows, painting soft highlights on the oak furniture and the framed watercolor prints lining the walls. the hum of a coffee machine harmonized with the low murmur of conversations and the occasional clink of ceramic cups.
seungmin sat near the window, his usual spot, with his arms folded and a faintly bored expression on his face. the green hue of his matcha latte swirled lazily in the mug in front of him, its foam dusted with a delicate sprinkle of matcha powder. his laptop was open, the screen already filled with meticulously organized notes for their project.
he glanced at his watch, exhaling quietly. she was late.
by two minutes.
before he could think too much about it, the cafe door opened with a cheerful chime, letting in a rush of cool air and the familiar sound of her voice.
“there you are!” y/n called, her energy somehow brighter than the café’s lighting. she waved at him, her tote bag bouncing against her side as she weaved through the tables to reach him.
“you’re late,” seungmin said flatly as she slid into the seat across from him.
“by like, two minutes,” she countered, flashing him a grin that could disarm a storm.
y/n dropped her tote bag onto the floor and leaned forward, her gaze falling on the mug in front of him. “is that a matcha latte?”
“...yes?”
her eyes widened, and she clasped her hands together dramatically. “i did not peg you as a matcha person. you just became ten times more interesting.”
seungmin raised an eyebrow, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. “and what exactly did you peg me as?”
“black coffee,” she said instantly, as if it were obvious. “you know, something bitter and unapproachable.”
“i don’t know whether to be offended or impressed by how specific that was,” he said dryly.
“take it as a compliment,” she said, waving her hand. “anyway, i’m getting one too. be right back!”
before seungmin could respond, she was already bouncing toward the counter, her black, wavy hair swishing behind her. he watched as she gestured animatedly while ordering, her voice carrying faintly over the café’s soft playlist.
when she returned, she was balancing a matcha latte in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other. she set them down with a flourish, her eyes sparkling.
“now we match,” she said, nodding at their identical drinks.
seungmin stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “do you ever run out of energy?”
“nope!” she chirped, taking a sip of her latte. “i thrive on optimism, caffeine, and sheer determination.”
he gave her a look that bordered on disbelief. “that explains a lot.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, leaning forward with mock offense.
“it means,” he began, leaning back in his chair, “that you’re probably the kind of person who volunteers for everything, stays up too late, and takes on way more than you can handle.”
y/n blinked at him, caught off guard by how accurate he was.
“before you ask, let’s just say you’re not exactly subtle,”
“well,” she said, recovering quickly, “you’re not exactly a mystery, either.”
“oh?” he said, crossing his arms. “do tell.”
“you’re the guy who avoids people but secretly observes everything,” she said, counting off on her fingers. “you’re the top of our class, duh—overachiever, for sure—but you act like you don’t care about grades. and you definitely judge people silently.”
he stared at her, one corner of his mouth twitching. “not bad.”
“see? i’m not subtle, but i’m perceptive,” she said triumphantly, taking another sip of her latte.
seungmin sighed, shaking his head. “this is going to be a long three weeks.”
“oh, come on,” she said, grinning. “admit it. you’re at least a little glad we’re working together.”
“i’d rather drink bitter, unapproachable black coffee for three weeks straight,” he deadpanned.
y/n burst out laughing, drawing a few amused glances from the other tables. “you’re funny when you’re grumpy, you know that?”
“i’m not grumpy,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise.
“sure you’re not,” she teased, pulling out her notebook and flipping it open. “okay, mr. matcha-latte-is-my-personality, let’s get to work.”
for the next hour, they hashed out ideas for their project, their conversation an entertaining mix of intellectual debate and playful banter. y/n’s colorful pens danced across the pages of her notebook, while seungmin’s precise typing filled the spaces in between.
“wait,” y/n said suddenly, tapping her pen against her chin. “what if we include a survey? like, ask people why they prefer local coffee shops over big chains?”
seungmin looked at her, slightly impressed despite himself. “that’s actually… a good idea.”
“see?” she said, beaming. “teamwork makes the dream work.”
he rolled his eyes but didn’t disagree.
as they packed up their things, y/n looked at him thoughtfully. “you know, you’re not as scary as people think.”
“and you’re more tolerable than i expected,” he replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“aw, was that a compliment?” she teased, walking beside him toward the door.
“don’t push your luck,” he said, holding the door open for her.
such a gentleman.
the next day, seungmin found himself back at the same corner table of the cafe, his laptop open, and his fingers resting lightly on the keyboard. he had arrived early again, and his usual matcha latte sat in its familiar spot, the faint green foam already starting to lose its swirl.
he glanced at his watch, fully expecting her to be a few minutes late again. sure enough, the door chimed exactly three minutes past the hour, and there she was.
“three minutes late,” seungmin remarked without looking up from his screen.
“consistent, aren’t i?” y/n chirped, setting her bag down with a thud and sliding into her seat across from him. her hair was loosely tied back today, a few stray curls framing her face.
seungmin’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. “consistently late isn’t something to be proud of.”
“agree to disagree,” she replied, pulling out her notebook and a handful of pens that were, unsurprisingly, color-coded.
her latte arrived shortly after, along with a croissant she ordered, and she immediately broke off a piece, offering it to him. “want some?”
“no.”
“suit yourself,” she said, popping the piece into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “so, where were we?”
“market analysis,” seungmin said, his tone all business as he turned his laptop to show her the data he had compiled.
the next hour passed in a surprisingly productive rhythm: y/n sketching out ideas with colorful diagrams and annotations, and seungmin structuring their findings into coherent sections. but, as always, their conversation veered off course every now and then.
“why are you so into matcha, anyway?” y/n asked at one point, leaning her chin on her hand.
seungmin paused, his fingers hovering over his keyboard. “it’s subtle. balanced. not overly sweet.”
“so, basically the opposite of me,” she quipped with a grin.
“exactly,” he said without missing a beat.
y/n laughed, the sound light and contagious. “you know, you’re a lot funnier than people give you credit for.”
“maybe people just don’t pay attention,” he replied, smirking slightly.
“or maybe you’re secretly a comedian and no one’s cracked the code yet,” she said, scribbling something in her notebook.
seungmin glanced at her notebook. “are you doodling again?”
“it’s brainstorming,” she said defensively, holding up the page. it was covered in little clouds and stars alongside bullet points about their project.
he sighed, though there was no real annoyance in it. “i don’t know how your brain works.”
“and yet,” she said with a wink, “here we are. perfectly balanced, like your precious matcha.”
the cafe became their unofficial meeting spot, the hum of the espresso machines and the chatter of students forming a familiar backdrop to their study sessions.
each day followed a similar pattern. seungmin would arrive early, his notes already meticulously organized. y/n would burst in a few minutes late, full of energy and carrying an ever-changing assortment of pastries.
their conversations became less about the project and more about each other as the days passed.
“you were in the debate club in high school?” y/n asked one day, wide-eyed.
“briefly,” seungmin admitted, not looking up from his laptop.
“i can totally see it,” she said, nodding. “all calm and logical, probably tearing your opponents apart with facts and wit.”
“is that your way of saying i’m argumentative?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“no, it’s my way of saying you’re scary smart,” she said, grinning.
he didn’t respond, but she noticed the faintest hint of color rise to his cheeks.
another day, y/n told him about her childhood. “i used to write letters to random people in the neighborhood,” she said, laughing at the memory. “just little notes, you know? telling them to have a great day or sharing a joke. my mom thought i was nuts.”
“that tracks,” seungmin said dryly, though there was a soft smile tugging at his lips.
by the end of the first week, their dynamic had settled into an easy rhythm. y/n’s chatter filled the spaces seungmin left, and his quick, witty remarks kept her on her toes.
one evening, as the cafe began to empty out, y/n looked at him thoughtfully. “you know, i think we’re not as different as we seem.”
seungmin glanced up, curious. “how so?”
“you act all cold and distant, but you’re actually super thoughtful,” she said, pointing her pen at him. “and i might seem like i’m all over the place, but i actually work really hard to make things perfect.”
he considered her words for a moment, then nodded. “maybe you’re right.”
“of course i am,” she said, smiling.
the usual morning buzz of the café wrapped around y/n as she entered, her tote bag slung over her shoulder. the golden glow of the hanging lights reflected off her black curls as she scanned the room, finding their usual spot by the window empty. for once, she had beaten seungmin here.
sliding into the seat that was unofficially hers now, she set her things down and strolled to the counter. today, she had a plan.
“i’ll have a caramel macchiato,” she said brightly to the barista, “and—oh, a matcha latte as well. to go with it.”
the barista smiled, tapping the order into the screen. y/n hummed along with the soft café music as she waited, glancing toward the door every now and then. the matcha latte wasn’t for her—it was for him.
the drinks arrived quickly, and y/n carried them back to the table, placing the matcha latte on his side of the table with a satisfied nod. she had barely taken a sip of her macchiato when the café door chimed, and seungmin walked in.
he paused when he saw her sitting there, looking unusually early, sipping her drink and doodling in the margins of her notebook. his gaze flickered to the matcha latte already waiting on the table.
“you’re early,” he said as he approached, his voice as calm and measured as always.
“surprise,” she said cheerfully, lifting her drink in a mock toast. “and i got you this.” she nodded toward the matcha latte.
seungmin blinked, momentarily thrown off. he stared at the latte, then back at her. “you got me a matcha latte?”
“yep. extra foam, no sugar. that’s how you like it, right?” she said, her tone breezy.
his lips parted slightly in surprise, and for a split second, she thought he might actually smile. “you noticed that?”
y/n shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the rush of pride she felt. “well, we’ve been meeting here for over a week. i’d have to be pretty oblivious not to notice.”
seungmin slid into his seat, his expression carefully neutral. but the faintest trace of warmth flickered in his eyes as he picked up the cup. “thanks.”
“you’re welcome,” she said, grinning. “see? i can be thoughtful too.”
he rolled his eyes but took a sip, the familiar flavor calming him more than he cared to admit. “don’t let it go to your head.”
“too late,” she teased, leaning her chin on her hand.
they had just begun discussing their final outline when the café door opened again, letting in a gust of cool air and a burst of familiar voices.
“hey, isn’t that y/n?” ryujin’s voice rang out, loud enough to turn a few heads. she was flanked by yuna and yeji, with jisung and jeongin trailing behind. minho followed at a leisurely pace, his hands shoved into his pockets.
y/n waved them over, her face lighting up. “guys!”
seungmin groaned under his breath, already bracing himself for the chaos about to ensue.
ryujin reached the table first, her sharp eyes immediately landing on seungmin. “well, well. didn’t expect to see you here with y/n.”
“we’re working on a project,” seungmin said flatly, glancing at her with mild annoyance.
“sure you are,” ryujin said, smirking as she slid into the seat beside y/n.
yuna and yeji sat down on the other side of y/n, while jisung and jeongin squeezed into the remaining space. minho stayed standing, leaning casually against the back of seungmin’s chair.
“is that a matcha latte?” jisung asked, pointing at seungmin’s cup.
seungmin raised an eyebrow. “yes. is that a problem?”
“not at all,” jisung said with a grin. “just didn’t think you’d be into something so…trendy.”
“trendy?” seungmin repeated, his tone incredulous.
“leave him alone,” y/n interjected, swatting jisung lightly on the arm. “matcha is great, and seungmin has good taste.”
seungmin glanced at her, surprised by her defense. “thanks…i guess.”
the group erupted into teasing laughter, and seungmin groaned again, this time louder. “this is exactly why i don’t hang out with you people.”
“oh, come on, seungmin,” ryujin said, nudging his shoulder. “you secretly love us.”
“i really don’t,” he said, deadpan.
but even as the banter continued, y/n noticed the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. it was fleeting, barely there—but it was enough.
as the conversation swirled around them, y/n leaned closer to him, her voice low enough for only him to hear. “see? it’s not so bad having company.”
he shot her a sideways glance, his expression unreadable. “you’re exhausting.”
“and yet, here you are,” she said with a wink.
seungmin didn’t reply, but he took another sip of his matcha latte, the warmth of the drink matching the faint warmth in his chest. maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t so bad after all.
the study session had gone by surprisingly smoothly, the usual mix of bickering and banter lightening the load of the project. the rest of their friends had left the café an hour ago, leaving y/n and seungmin to finish up the last few points of their outline in relative peace.
“so,” y/n began, stretching her arms over her head, “are we done for today?”
seungmin glanced at his notes, then at her. “i think so. unless you want to go over the market strategy again.”
“i’d rather not,” she said with a laugh, leaning back in her chair.
he closed his laptop with a soft click and stood up, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “then we’re done.”
as they stepped out of the café, the late afternoon sunlight cast a warm, golden glow over the campus. the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of autumn leaves, and the streets were alive with the chatter of students heading to their next destination.
“wanna take a walk?” y/n asked suddenly, looking up at him.
seungmin hesitated for a moment before nodding. “sure.”
they strolled along the tree-lined paths, the leaves crunching softly under their shoes. y/n swung her bag idly by her side, her energy a little more subdued than usual.
seungmin noticed her glancing at her phone every few minutes, her brows furrowing slightly each time. he didn’t say anything at first, but as the minutes ticked by, her unease became harder to ignore.
“you’ve been checking your phone a lot,” he said finally, his tone casual but pointed.
y/n looked up, startled. “oh, it’s nothing.”
“doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, studying her carefully.
she hesitated, biting her lip. “it’s really not a big deal. just… a thing.”
seungmin raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. instead, he changed the subject. “you know, for someone who’s always so cheery, you’re not great at hiding when something’s bothering you.”
y/n let out a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “guess i’m not as subtle as i thought.”
“nope,” he said, smirking slightly.
they continued walking, the conversation drifting to lighter topics. y/n told him about the time she tried to bake cookies and accidentally used salt instead of sugar, while seungmin recounted the disastrous group project he’d been part of in high school.
at one point, they stopped by a small fountain in the center of campus, the water sparkling in the golden light. y/n leaned against the edge, her face tilted up toward the sky.
“you ever think about how weird life is?” she said suddenly, her voice soft.
seungmin looked at her, surprised by the shift in her tone. “weird how?”
“like…how people come and go. how things change so fast, and you don’t even realize it until it’s already happened,” she said, her fingers trailing absently along the edge of the fountain.
he didn’t respond immediately, letting her words hang in the air. “yeah,” he said finally. “but that’s just how it is. you can’t control it.”
“i know,” she said, sighing. “it’s just…sometimes i wish things could stay the same, you know?”
seungmin watched her for a moment, the soft sunlight catching in her hair, turning it into a halo of dark curls. he didn’t know what was going on in her head, but for some reason, he found himself wanting to figure it out.
“you’re not as complicated as you think you are,” he said, breaking the silence.
y/n turned to him, blinking. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
he shrugged. “you’re easy to read. you care too much, you worry too much, and you’re too nice for your own good.”
she stared at him for a moment, then smiled. “is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“take it however you want,” he said, smirking.
as the evening wore on, they found themselves back near the café, the warm glow of the windows spilling onto the sidewalk.
“thanks for hanging out,” y/n said as they stopped outside.
“didn’t have much of a choice,” seungmin replied, though there was no edge to his tone.
y/n laughed, the sound light and genuine. “you’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be, you know.”
“don’t push your luck,” he said, but his lips quirked up in the faintest of smiles.
as they parted ways, y/n glanced at her phone one last time, her smile faltering slightly. seungmin noticed, his chest tightening with a feeling he didn’t quite understand.
he didn’t ask, not yet. but something about her quiet moments of worry lingered in his mind long after she was gone.
the morning sun cast a soft glow over the campus, but y/n barely noticed it. her fingers twitched against her phone screen, unlocking it for the hundredth time that morning. nothing. no updates.
she exhaled, locking it again, stuffing it into her coat pocket as her legs carried her to the usual meeting spot—a bench under the giant oak tree near the university fountain. felix, hyunjin, rina, and aeri were already there, their laughter blending into the murmur of passing students.
“hey, superstar,” felix greeted, his dimpled smile in place. “finally decided to grace us with your presence?”
y/n forced a smile, but hyunjin narrowed his eyes immediately. “you didn’t sleep well, did you?”
she waved him off. “i’m fine.”
aeri crossed her arms. “liar. you’ve been checking your phone like your life depends on it.”
rina sighed, her voice gentler. “still no news?”
y/n shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek. “i just.. i just hope things work out.”
felix leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “you should stop worrying so much. it’s not like you can do anything more.”
“i could,” y/n mumbled, picking at her sleeve.
hyunjin clicked his tongue. “y/n. you did everything you could. more than anyone else would.”
“but that doesn’t mean it’s enough.” her voice was quiet, yet it carried the weight of something much heavier.
aeri’s expression softened. “we know how much this means to you. but stressing yourself out isn’t going to change anything.”
y/n stayed silent, staring at her shoes.
the group lapsed into silence for a moment, the usual morning energy dimmed by the unspoken understanding hanging between them.
then, suddenly—
“okay, enough doom and gloom,” felix announced, standing up dramatically. “we have classes to suffer through, and y/n, you have a reputation to maintain as our radiant ball of sunshine.”
y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the tiny laugh that escaped her.
hyunjin threw an arm around her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “see? there’s the smile. let’s keep it that way, yeah?”
she hummed noncommittally, but as they all walked to class together, her fingers still itched to check her phone again.
meanwhile.
seungmin had barely sat down at their usual cafeteria table when jisung slid into the seat beside him with all the grace of an overly excited squirrel.
“so,” jisung started, grinning. “how’s your little study buddy?”
seungmin exhaled sharply through his nose, already regretting every life choice that had led him here. “no.”
jeongin, sitting across from them, leaned forward, clearly entertained. “what do you mean, ‘no’? we didn’t even say anything yet.”
“you don’t have to,” seungmin deadpanned, stabbing at his rice with his chopsticks.
ryujin, yuna, and yeji all exchanged looks before turning to him in unison. ryujin smirked. “so. how’s y/n?”
seungmin chewed slowly, staring blankly at his tray like the answers to life’s problems were hidden somewhere between his kimchi and his soup. “fine.”
jisung gasped, placing a dramatic hand on his chest. “fine? that’s all we get? kim seungmin, the master of unnecessary detail and sarcasm, is suddenly giving us fine?”
yeji leaned in. “what’s she like when she studies? still yapping?”
“she never stops talking,” seungmin muttered, rubbing his temple.
yuna giggled. “sounds like you had so much fun.”
“ecstatic.”
jeongin raised an eyebrow. “but you keep showing up.”
seungmin clicked his tongue, irritated. “because we have a project. unlike you clowns, i care about my grades.”
jisung dramatically wiped a fake tear. “we’re clowns, but you chose to sit here.”
minho, who had been silently eating until now, finally spoke up. “so, you actually like hanging out with her, huh?”
the entire table went silent.
seungmin paused mid-bite, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. “i tolerate her.”
jeongin snorted. “that’s seungmin for i-actually-enjoy-her-company.”
“i do not—”
“oh my god, guys,” jisung gasped, eyes widening as if he had just discovered the meaning of life. “what if he is the one who talks more when they’re together? what if he’s the one who yaps?”
the table erupted into laughter while seungmin sat there, unimpressed, arms crossed.
“be serious,” seungmin said flatly. “me? talkative?”
ryujin leaned her chin on her hand, grinning. “well, y/n does have a way of getting people to open up.”
seungmin scoffed, looking back down at his food. “yeah, well. doesn’t mean anything.”
jisung wiggled his eyebrows. “sure, sure. but if you ever start writing your songs about her, let us know.”
minho smirked. “or if you suddenly develop a taste for matcha lattes.”
seungmin groaned, dropping his chopsticks onto his tray. “i hate all of you.”
but even as his friends laughed and teased, he couldn’t stop the brief thought that flickered in his mind—
y/n had ordered a matcha latte for him yesterday.
and, annoyingly enough, it had tasted just a little bit better than usual.
the golden glow of the setting sun stretched across the city, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. the air was crisp, carrying the scent of autumn leaves, freshly brewed coffee from nearby shops, and the faintest whiff of something sweet—perhaps a bakery down the street, or maybe just the anticipation curling in y/n’s stomach.
she adjusted the tote bag slung over her shoulder, her fingers tightening around the straps as she, hyunjin, and felix approached the same, familiar place.
the soft jingling of the bell above the glass door greeted them as they stepped inside, the warmth of the small space wrapping around them like a hug.
the scent of pet shampoo and fresh kibble mixed with the quiet murmurs of staff and the occasional soft barks from the kennels. y/n immediately scanned the room, her heart squeezing as her eyes landed on a familiar golden figure curled up in the corner.
“star,” she breathed, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.
the golden retriever perked up at the sound of her voice, his deep brown eyes lighting up as he scrambled to his feet, tail thumping wildly against the floor. his scarred eyebrow lifted slightly, his head tilting as if in disbelief before he rushed toward the gate of his enclosure, whining softly.
felix chuckled beside her. “that’s one hell of a welcome.”
hyunjin smirked. “almost makes me jealous.”
y/n shot them a look before crouching down, slipping her fingers through the gaps in the bars to brush against the soft fur of star’s head. “hi, baby,” she cooed, her voice dropping into that sweet, affectionate tone she only ever used for him. “did you miss me?”
star pressed his nose against her fingers, letting out a low, contented whimper as his tail wagged even harder.
a familiar voice spoke up from behind the counter. “you know, i think he waits for you every day.”
y/n looked up to see hana, one of the adoption center staff, smiling at her from behind the desk. she was leaning against it, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with knowing eyes.
y/n straightened up, brushing her hands on her jeans. “any news?”
hana’s smile faded slightly, and she sighed, shaking her head. “not yet. a few people came in, but they were looking for younger pups. star's still waiting.”
y/n bit her lip, glancing down at the dog who was still pressed against the gate, big brown eyes watching her intently.
her chest ached.
felix noticed, nudging her shoulder. “hey, it’s only been a little while. he’s gonna find the perfect home.”
y/n nodded, but she didn’t respond. instead, she reached into her tote bag, pulling out a small packet of homemade dog treats wrapped neatly in brown paper. she unwrapped it carefully and slipped one through the bars, watching as star took it gently from her fingers.
“you made him more treats?” hyunjin asked, amused.
she gave him a look. “of course. he deserves them.”
hana chuckled. “you’re probably spoiling him more than his future owner will.”
y/n only smiled, watching star nibble on the treat, his tail wagging slower now, more content than excited. she reached forward again, scratching behind his ears, her fingers brushing lightly against the scar above his eye.
she hated that scar. hated the reminder of what he had been through before he ended up here. hated that someone had hurt him enough to leave marks on his body.
star suddenly licked her fingers, snapping her out of her thoughts. she blinked, then let out a soft laugh.
“thanks, baby,” she murmured, rubbing his head. “guess i needed that.”
felix and hyunjin exchanged a glance but said nothing.
after a moment, y/n sighed, straightening up. “i’ll come back tomorrow.”
hana smiled. “i’m sure he’ll be waiting.”
y/n looked back down at star one last time before stepping away. but as she turned toward the door, she felt it—that nagging, sinking feeling that sat deep in her chest, whispering words she didn’t want to hear.
what if no one ever comes for him?
the streetlights flickered on as the sun dipped lower, washing the city in gold and deepening shades of blue. cars rumbled past, the occasional honk slicing through the air, but to y/n, everything felt muted—like a muffled symphony playing in the background of her mind.
she walked between the two, her steps a little slower than usual, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her oversized cardigan. she wasn’t talking as much, and that was rare.
felix noticed first. “you’re quiet,” he murmured, glancing at her from the side.
y/n hummed, eyes fixed on the pavement. “just thinking.”
hyunjin sighed. “about star.”
she didn’t answer right away. instead, she kicked a small pebble on the sidewalk, watching as it bounced ahead of them before rolling to a stop. then, softly—“he’s been there for so long.”
felix’s lips pressed into a thin line. “he’ll find a home.”
y/n exhaled slowly, hugging herself. “what if he doesn’t?”
hyunjin nudged her shoulder. “you don’t know that.”
“i don’t not know that either.”
the three of them fell silent for a few beats, the sounds of the city filling the space between them. a warm breeze tousled y/n’s hair, but it did little to chase away the weight settling in her chest.
“he’s such a good pup,” she murmured. “so kind, so sweet. and he’s still waiting for someone.”
hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “yeah, because the right person hasn’t come yet.”
y/n swallowed, shaking her head. “i wish i could take him back.”
felix reached over, squeezing her arm gently. “we know.”
her throat tightened, but she forced a smile. “why am i like this? why do i care so much?”
“because you’re you,” felix said simply. “you love things deeply. it’s who you are.”
hyunjin smirked. “it’s a little pathetic, honestly.”
y/n scoffed, shoving his arm.
but the teasing had done its job—her shoulders had relaxed just a little.
they turned a corner, nearing the familiar street where the café sat. the warm glow of its windows spilled onto the pavement, the sight usually filling y/n with comfort. but today, it only reminded her that she was late.
“crap,” she muttered, checking her phone. “seungmin’s probably gonna be pissed.”
felix snorted. “when is he not pissed?”
“you should walk in and act like nothing happened, just to see his reaction.”
y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small chuckle that slipped out.
felix gave her one last reassuring squeeze before they reached the café. “you gonna be okay?”
y/n nodded, inhaling deeply before flashing them a grin—one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “yeah. go home before you guys start acting like overprotective mums.”
hyunjin gave her a look. “too late.”
she laughed softly, waving them off before stepping into the café.
but even as the bell jingled overhead, announcing her arrival, and the scent of roasted coffee beans wrapped around her like a familiar embrace—
her heart was still with a golden-furred boy, waiting for a home.
the café was warm, a stark contrast to the cool night air outside. the scent of espresso and vanilla swirled around y/n as she stepped inside, but tonight, the usual coziness of the place did little to lift the weight pressing down on her shoulders.
the space buzzed with quiet conversations, the occasional scrape of a chair against the wooden floor, and the low hum of indie music filtering through the speakers. a couple of students sat by the windows, heads buried in textbooks, while others scrolled through laptops, half-empty cups of coffee beside them.
and there, by their usual table in the corner—was seungmin.
he sat with his arms crossed, a glass of water in front of him, its ice long since melted and glass covered with tiny droplets. his phone rested on the table, face-down, but the second he heard the door’s bell chime, his head lifted. his gaze found hers almost immediately.
a sharp glance. then, a slow raise of his brows.
y/n gulped. oh boy.
she hurried over, pulling the chair out with a quiet scrape and plopping down with an apologetic smile. “hey—”
“you’re late.”
the two words were flat, unimpressed, dripping with that classic seungmin deadpan tone.
y/n winced. “i know, i know—i’m so sorry. i lost track of time.”
seungmin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “you always lose track of time.”
y/n bit her lip, fingers toying with the hem of her sleeve. usually, she’d fire back with some kind of playful retort. usually, she’d tease him about how he was so dramatic. usually, she’d flash a grin and brush it off.
but tonight, she just muttered a quiet, “yeah… i guess i do.”
seungmin blinked, caught slightly off guard. he had been expecting her usual antics, not this quiet, subdued version of her. his gaze flickered over her face—she wasn’t meeting his eyes, instead staring at the table, her fingers still fidgeting.
something was off.
he leaned back in his chair, arms still crossed. “alright. spill it.”
y/n finally looked up. “huh?”
“you’re too quiet,” seungmin said simply. “it’s weird. i don’t like it.”
y/n huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. “you’re acting like me not talking is a crime.”
“it is,” seungmin deadpanned. “you talk so much that i’m convinced if you ever stop, the universe will collapse in on itself.”
y/n let out a soft chuckle. “well, lucky for the universe, i’m still here.”
seungmin narrowed his eyes, scanning her expression. the laugh had been small, but it wasn’t real. and that wasn’t lucky for the universe—it was concerning.
something was definitely wrong.
but seungmin wasn’t the type to pry. at least, not directly.
instead, he reached for his matcha latte, taking a slow sip before saying, “you’re late by twenty-five minutes, by the way.”
y/n groaned, slumping against the table. “i know. i already said sorry.”
seungmin hummed. “i had to sit here. alone. staring at the wall. like some abandoned, unloved creature.”
y/n peeked up at him. “so you feel loved in my company?”
“i ordered water, alone, y/n.” seungmin shook his head, sighing. “do you understand how humiliating that was? the barista asked, ‘are you waiting for someone?’ and i had to say, ‘yeah, but she’s twenty-five minutes late and probably forgot i exist.’”
y/n groaned again, burying her face in her arms. “stop making me feel worse.”
“oh, i’m just getting started.” seungmin leaned in. “twenty-five minutes of my life that i will never get back.”
y/n lifted her head just enough to glare at him. “i should’ve been later.”
seungmin smirked. “you wouldn’t dare.”
she let out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head. “why, is it because you'll miss me so much?”
“here we are.” seungmin gestured between them. “trapped in this academic partnership of doom.”
y/n rolled her eyes, finally sitting up straight. “fine. i’m making it up to you.”
“oh?”
y/n lifted her hand, signaling the passing barista. “two matcha lattes, please.”
the barista nodded, jotting it down. “same as always?”
y/n glanced at seungmin’s half-empty water before nodding. “yeah. same.”
seungmin stared at her for a second longer, something unreadable flickering in his gaze.
he looked away, suddenly very focused on the condensation on his cup. “you’re still late.”
y/n grinned, finally—finally—looking a little like herself again. “yeah, but you’re not mad anymore.”
seungmin scoffed. “i was never mad.”
“even better.”
the matcha latte arrived a few minutes later, and y/n pushed it toward him with a triumphant look. “peace offering.”
seungmin rolled his eyes but took the cup anyway, sipping it slowly. the warmth spread through him, though he wasn’t sure if it was just from the drink anymore.
he glanced at y/n again. she still seemed a little distant—her fingers tapping idly against the table, her eyes unfocused at times. but she was trying. she was here.
and for now, that was enough.
the dorm was warm, buzzing with laughter and the easy comfort of friends who had long since learned how to exist in each other’s spaces. the soft hum of music played in the background, barely audible over the sound of hyunjin dramatically retelling some ridiculous story from his dance class, complete with exaggerated gestures and poorly executed sound effects.
"i swear, i almost died," hyunjin declared, sprawled across y/n’s bed like a lifeless corpse.
felix snorted, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "you tripped over your own foot, dude."
"it was sabotage!" hyunjin shot up, jabbing a finger in the air. "jeongin pushed me!"
rina, lying upside down on the couch, waved a dismissive hand. "jeongin literally isn't even in dance."
"then it was minho," hyunjin insisted, brows furrowed like he was solving the biggest mystery of his life. "he has it out for me."
aeri rolled her eyes. "everyone has it out for you because you’re annoying."
hyunjin gasped, clutching his chest. "how dare—"
"she’s not wrong," felix muttered under his breath.
"okay, okay," y/n giggled, lying comfortably on the floor with her legs propped up against the couch. "next story before hyunjin starts fake crying again."
felix grinned, eyes twinkling mischievously. "oh, i have one—"
but before he could even begin, y/n’s phone buzzed.
a single text.
from hana.
her heart stuttered. for a second, she just stared at the screen, her brain struggling to process what she was reading.
hey, y/n!just a heads up—there’s someone interested in star! they’re about 90% sure about adopting him, and they’ll be coming back tomorrow to make a final decision! :)
y/n’s breath caught.
the words blurred together, her brain tripping over itself to comprehend them. someone was interested. someone wanted star. he could actually, finally, hopefully have a home.
her fingers trembled as they hovered over the screen.
this was good. this was amazing.
so why did it feel like her heart had suddenly stopped?
"uh… y/n?"
she blinked.
four pairs of eyes were locked on her, concern etched across their faces.
"what happened?" felix asked, sitting up.
"you just froze,"
"dude, you looked like you saw a ghost."
y/n opened her mouth. then closed it. then opened it again—only to stay silent.
hyunjin waved a hand in front of her face. "did she get cursed or something?"
and just like that, it hit her.
excitement, relief, joy—everything crashed into her all at once.
her face lit up, and she jumped to her feet so suddenly that she almost knocked over the coffee table. "oh my god."
hyunjin flinched. "jesus—"
"what?!" aeri demanded, grabbing her wrist.
y/n practically bounced on her feet, barely able to contain herself. "someone’s interested in star!!"
the room fell silent for half a second—then erupted.
"no way!" felix shot up, eyes wide.
"are you serious?" hyunjin nearly knocked over a pillow in his excitement.
y/n nodded wildly, hands shaking with pure, unfiltered joy. "yes—yes—yes—hana just texted me! they’re not fully sure yet, but they’re 90% sure!!"
rina gasped. "that’s so close—"
"and precise.."
aeri covered her mouth. "oh my god, y/n!"
and then, suddenly, it was all too much.
tears pricked at the corners of her eyes before she could stop them, her vision going blurry as she let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "i—i'm just—so happy—"
felix reached over, wrapping her in a tight hug. "oh, y/n," he murmured. "that’s amazing."
aeri and rina piled in next, squishing her between them, and before she knew it, hyunjin tackled the group too, his arms nearly choking the life out of all of them.
"group hug!" hyunjin declared.
"hyunjin—"
"can’t breathe—"
"worth it!"
laughter bubbled up between them, the warmth of their shared happiness filling every corner of the room.
y/n sniffled, wiping at her cheeks as she pulled back. "i just—" she took a deep breath, voice trembling with excitement. "i really hope it works out. i just want him to have a home."
felix squeezed her hand. "he will."
hyunjin nodded, a rare moment of sincerity in his usually dramatic demeanor. "and if it doesn’t, we’ll figure something out. together."
y/n’s heart swelled.
for a moment, she just looked at them—at felix’s soft, knowing smile, at hyunjin’s reassuring nod, at aeri and rina’s equally teary eyes.
her family.
her people.
the streets were alive with the kind of lazy energy only a weekend morning could bring—bustling yet unhurried, kissed by golden sunlight filtering through the trees. cafés spilled over with students nursing their first coffees of the day, a soft hum of chatter filling the air. the crisp autumn breeze carried the scent of freshly baked bread from a bakery down the street, mingling with the faint aroma of brewing coffee from their usual café.
but amidst it all, y/n’s voice was the loudest thing in the universe.
“i have to tell them everything about star,” she declared, walking ahead of the group with an urgency that made it look like she was on a life-or-death mission.
“i need to make sure they know his likes, dislikes—what makes him happy, what makes him sad—oh my god, what if they don’t get him the right treats—”
“are we sure she’s not the one being put up for adoption?”
“i heard that, felix.”
aeri chuckled, shoving her hands into the pockets of her oversized hoodie. “yeah, yeah. tell us, y/n. what else does star like?”
y/n didn’t even need to be asked twice.
“he loves belly rubs,” she continued, voice animated. “and he’s not very picky about food, but he does this little head tilt when he really likes something, and it’s the cutest thing ever—”
rina cooed. “that sounds so cute—”
“it is,” y/n stressed, turning to walk backward as she spoke, her arms flailing in exaggerated enthusiasm.
“and he’s so well-behaved. like, when i tell him to sit, he actually listens—unless he’s too excited, then he just kind of vibrates in place—”
hyunjin snorted. “so basically, he’s you.”
i do not vibrate in place!”
“you kinda do.”
“i mean,” aeri chimed in, barely holding back her laughter. “look at you right now.”
and okay, fine. maybe they had a point.
because if she were to take an honest look at herself, she was bouncing on her feet slightly, practically vibrating with excitement.
but in her defense, this was a big deal.
she turned back around with a huff. “whatever. the point is—he loves people. he’s such a good boy. but he hates loud noises—like thunder? oh my god, you should’ve seen him last time. i thought my heart was gonna break.”
the group collectively awed.
rina pouted. “poor baby.”
y/n nodded solemnly. “and he’s super smart! like, he knows when i’m sad, and he just leans against me like a little weighted blanket—”
felix grinned. “again. just like you.”
“i swear to god, lee felix—”
laughter erupted through the group, bouncing off the city walls as they continued down the street, the adoption center now coming into view.
hyunjin slung an arm around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close for a second before dramatically ruffling her hair. “you’re really gonna cry, huh?”
y/n scoffed, but her lips twitched upward. “me? cry? never.”
aeri smirked. “uh-huh. sure.”
rina grinned. “we’ll see about that.”
y/n rolled her eyes, but truthfully?
she wasn’t so sure they were wrong.
the adoption center was just a few steps away now, its familiar glass doors reflecting the bright morning light. y/n’s feet slowed, just slightly, and for the first time since they left, her voice wavered.
“i’ll miss him.”
it was quiet—soft. almost lost in the weekend bustle of the city.
felix, walking beside her, immediately noticed. his teasing expression faded into something gentler, something understanding. “yeah,” he said, nudging her shoulder lightly. “i know.”
hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “you really love that dog, huh?”
y/n let out a small laugh, but it was thinner now, fragile. “of course,” she admitted.
aeri and rina exchanged a glance before moving closer, their presence warm, comforting. rina linked their arms together. “hey,” she said softly, “he’s gonna find a really good home.”
y/n nodded, swallowing. “i know.”
and she did know. she knew this was what she wanted—for star to be safe, to be happy. but still. the idea of walking into that adoption center today and possibly realizing that she’d seen him for the last time?
it hurt.
felix draped an arm over her shoulder, squeezing. “we’re here,” he murmured as they reached the doors. “ready?”
y/n inhaled, exhaled. then, she nodded.
“yeah.”
but the moment she stepped inside and saw him—his golden fur catching the sunlight, his tail wagging the second he saw her—she knew.
she was so not ready.
the adoption center was quiet—eerily so. it was one of those rare slow mornings, the usual chatter of visitors absent, leaving only the distant hum of traffic outside and the occasional bark from the kennels. the air smelled faintly of wood shavings and the subtle sweetness of pet shampoo, the kind that lingered in fur like a soft embrace.
but none of that mattered.
because the moment y/n stepped inside, he was all she could see.
“star!”
the golden retriever perked up instantly at the sound of her voice, his floppy ears twitching before he launched himself toward her with uncontainable excitement. his tail wagged wildly, his whole body practically vibrating as he reached her.
y/n barely had a second to prepare before she was tackled—star standing on his hind legs, paws pressed against her as he buried his face into her neck.
“oh my god—you menace—” y/n laughed, stumbling slightly but hugging him nonetheless, burying her face into his fur. he smelled warm, familiar, like something safe. “did you miss me? huh? did you miss me, baby?”
star whined, licking her cheek in rapid, enthusiastic swipes.
“i’ll take that as a yes.”
felix snickered from behind. “he’s actually insane about you.”
hyunjin nodded. “i mean, i get it. you do vibrate like he does.”
y/n shot them both a glare but was too busy giggling as star flopped onto his back, belly fully exposed. “ugh, fine,” she sighed dramatically, crouching down. “you win. belly rubs for you, your majesty.”
star's tail thumped against the floor excitedly as she ran her hands through his fur, tracing small patterns over his stomach. he exhaled happily, stretching his legs as if to demand 'more, human.'
“god,” aeri mused. “imagine being loved this much.”
rina smirked. “maybe if you rolled over and asked nicely—”
aeri shoved her.
“ooh, i ship!” hyunjin and felix said in unison.
meanwhile, hana leaned against the counter with a soft smile. “you got here just in time,” she said. “the guy who showed interest might be coming soon.”
y/n froze for half a second before she forced herself to keep scratching behind star's ears.
“oh,” she said, voice light, casual. “right. that’s—good.”
felix and hyunjin exchanged a glance.
“you okay?” hyunjin asked.
y/n smiled at star, watching as his eyes fluttered shut in pure bliss.
“i’m okay,” she murmured. “i just wanna enjoy this for a little longer.”
hyunjin and felix didn’t push. instead, they sat down nearby, letting her have her moment.
because even though she was smiling, they knew.
this was going to be really hard for her.
a little while later, the girl and the pup had retreated to the playroom. it was warm, filled with the scent of fresh pinewood shavings and soft blankets. the room was lined with plush beds, shelves of toys, and the occasional scratching post—even though star had zero interest in anything but y/n.
she sat cross-legged on the padded floor, giggling as the golden retriever nuzzled into her, his weight nearly knocking her over. “star, you clingy little baby,” she cooed, rubbing his ears as his tail wagged violently, his entire body practically humming with joy.
y/n flopped onto her back with a sigh, her fingers threading through his golden fur as he settled beside her, curling against her like he always did.
a small, selfish part of her wanted to keep him like this forever.
but that wasn’t fair, was it?
she exhaled, staring at the ceiling. “you’re gonna find a home today,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “i just know it.”
she smiled, squeezing his paw gently.
“and i hope they love you as much as i do.”
meanwhile, outside the playroom, hyunjin, felix, aeri, rina, and hana were hanging around the front desk when the adoption center’s door swung open. the bell chimed softly as two familiar figures strolled in—jisung, looking completely at home, and seungmin, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, looking his usual mildly unimpressed self.
felix blinked. “oh?”
hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “what are you guys doing here?”
jisung grinned. “oh, you know—just a casual weekend visit to an animal shelter. felt like staring at some cats.”
rina narrowed her eyes. “is that true, or did you just get dragged here by seungmin?”
jisung groaned. “fine, yeah, i got dragged here.” he sighed dramatically before jabbing a thumb toward his best friend. “he’s actually the one adopting today.”
felix and hyunjin’s heads tilted slightly. “oh?”
aeri’s eyes lit up. “wait—seungmin, you’re getting a pet?”
seungmin shrugged. “yeah.”
rina smirked. “let me guess. a cat.”
jisung snorted. “oh, no. this dude? a cat?” he shook his head. “nah, he’s adopting a dog.”
felix hummed. “nice. what kind?”
seungmin’s gaze flickered toward hana, who had started flipping through adoption papers. “golden retriever,” he said simply. “his name’s star. anyway, where's the staff lady?”
the moment the words left his mouth, a wave of silence crashed over the group.
hyunjin and felix both froze.
aeri and rina's jaws slightly dropped.
hana finally returned from the back, greeting seungmin with a smile, “ah, you're here! guys, he's the one who's adopting st-”
even jisung, oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, blinked in confusion.
“what?” he asked.
before anyone could answer, the door to the playroom creaked open.
and out stepped y/n, her arms wrapped around star—his golden fur glowing in the light, his tail wagging happily.
she took one step forward before her gaze landed on seungmin.
seungmin, who was already staring right back at her.
both of them squinted.
“…what are you doing here?” they asked at the same time.
jisung blinked, glancing between them. “okay, what’s happening right now—”
and then it clicked.
y/n’s eyes widened, flickering to her friends—felix, hyunjin, and rina watching the scene unfold with barely contained amusement.
“you—” she turned back to seungmin. “you’re adopting star?”
seungmin nodded, not entirely sure why she looked so shocked. “yeah?”
the room was silent for a beat.
then—
“oh my god,” y/n practically shrieked.
before seungmin could react, she launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his shoulders in a bone-crushing hug.
seungmin stiffened, eyes widening. “what the hell—”
but she was already bouncing, gripping his hoodie with sheer, uncontrollable joy.
“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god— seungmin.” she shook him, eyes shining. “you’re really adopting him??”
seungmin, still reeling, cleared his throat. “uh… yeah?”
“oh my god.”
y/n squealed, actually jumping up and down as she rapid-fired through a list of things—
“okay, okay, listen, he’s so good but sometimes he’s picky with food—he loves belly rubs but only in the morning—he doesn’t like loud noises but he loves music, i think he likes indie-rock?—oh and he’s so soft so you have to use this one dog shampoo, i’ll send you the link—oh my god, seungmin, if you forget to feed him i will end you—”
seungmin blinked, still trying to process what was happening.
meanwhile, felix and hyunjin were both howling with laughter.
“she’s so gone for that dog,” felix wheezed, wiping a tear.
“seungmin, she’s been obsessed with star,” hyunjin explained to him, still laughing. “she found him on the street months ago, brought him here herself, and has been visiting him every single day—”
“—which is why she’s been all moody lately,” rina added, grinning. “she was worried he wouldn’t find a home soon.”
seungmin slowly turned his gaze back to y/n, who was still yapping away, her hands gripping his sleeves like she was scared he’d disappear.
something inside him… softened.
she was so happy.
like—genuinely happy. practically glowing with excitement, her eyes bright, her entire body buzzing like an overcharged battery.
and it was because of him.
he cleared his throat. “okay, damn,” he muttered. “didn’t know i was winning a nobel prize for adopting a dog.”
y/n gasped. “it’s star, you ungrateful—”
jisung grinned, nudging seungmin’s shoulder. “looks like you did a good thing, min.”
seungmin exhaled, letting a small, amused smile slip.
yeah.
he had a feeling he really did.
hana leaned against the adoption center’s front desk, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold before her.
seungmin stood beside her, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, observing y/n bounce around like she had just won the lottery.
he was still processing it all.
she had really been this attached to this dog?
y/n was currently kneeling on the floor, hugging the golden retriever tightly, her fingers buried in his soft fur as she giggled, pressing kisses to the top of his head. star, for his part, was practically melting into her, his tail wagging violently, paws twitching in excitement.
hana let out a small chuckle. “she’s over the moon.”
seungmin huffed a small laugh, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “yeah, no kidding.”
hana turned to him, her expression amused but also… grateful. “seriously, though. thanks for this, seungmin.”
he glanced at her. “for what?”
she smiled knowingly, tilting her head toward y/n. “for that.”
seungmin followed her gaze.
y/n was beaming, her entire body radiating happiness as she continued to hug star, her face buried in his fur.
it was a rare kind of joy. the kind that made people forget about everything else. the kind that made time slow down for just a little while.
and for some reason…
he kind of liked that he was partially the reason behind it.
hana’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “she was really worried, you know?”
seungmin frowned slightly. “about what?”
hana gave him a look. “star.”
he blinked.
“she’s been coming here every day after class,” hana continued, her voice soft but full of meaning. “bringing treats, playing with him, making sure he wasn’t lonely. she didn’t talk about it much, but we all knew. she was so scared he’d never find a home.”
seungmin’s lips parted slightly.
“she’s been checking her phone constantly the past few days, waiting for an update. i swear, she probably manifested you into this place.” hana smirked. “and now look at her.”
seungmin glanced at y/n again.
she was now rubbing star’s belly, grinning ear to ear, still completely lost in her own little world.
his fingers curled slightly in his pockets.
…had she really been worrying this much?
and he hadn’t even noticed much?
hana’s voice broke through his thoughts again, softer this time. “so yeah. thanks, seungmin. i don’t think you realize just how much this means to her.”
he swallowed, clearing his throat. “it’s just a dog,” he muttered.
hana raised an eyebrow. “maybe to you.”
seungmin exhaled, shaking his head. “you’re making it sound like i saved a life or something.”
hana just smiled knowingly. “maybe you did.”
meanwhile, a few feet away, y/n was bouncing on her heels, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt.
“seungmin, you’re the best,” she gushed, turning to him. “seriously. i don’t even know how to thank you.”
seungmin quirked an eyebrow. “you’ve already thanked me, like, ten times.”
she gasped. “not enough.”
she suddenly grabbed his hands, squeezing them tightly as she stared at him, eyes sparkling. “thank you, seungmin. i swear i could kiss you right now.”
the guy choked. “what?”
felix, who had been drinking from a soda can, almost spit it out.
y/n didn’t even realize what she had just said, too caught up in her own excitement.
“i mean—not literally— i mean, i could—i mean—you get it,” she flailed, laughing nervously.
seungmin just stared.
jisung grinned. “dude, this is the first time i’ve ever seen you speechless.”
“i hate all of you,” seungmin muttered, pulling his hands away as he rubbed the back of his neck, ears ever so slightly red.
but then—
y/n clapped her hands together. “wait.”
seungmin braced himself. “what now?”
her eyes shone as she grabbed his arm. “okay, listen—so star loves sleeping on soft blankets, so please buy him those, and oh my god, he loves head pats—especially before sleeping—”
seungmin sighed. “here we go again.”
felix snickered. “good luck, bro.”
hyunjin clapped his shoulder. “you signed up for this.”
aeri beamed. “welcome to the rest of your life, seungmin.”
and all seungmin could do was exhale as y/n continued to speak, her happiness so loud, so vibrant, so unbelievably contagious—
that, for once, he didn’t actually mind.
“is your little girlfriend going to come visit us and the pup daily now?” jisung had murmured.
mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts
!! please let me know under this post, or this one, if i forgot you in the taglist, my inactivity made me lose track, i'm really sorry !!
ミ i.n ( stray kids ) lockscreens !
I’m so glad you’ve finished your school! I know school can be rough especially end of the year. Speaking of free time. 🥺👉👈 How about (surprise) angst/hurt with Han this time (at this point I’m trying to go through all the members at least once) Y/N is having just like, the worst day. They come home to Han for comfort but he is also having just like, the worst day. So they argue and Han walls out, but later there’s a fire at the apartment complex and when he comes back there’s like a whole scene and he freaks out. Y/N is already in the back of an ambulance and they’re fine but Han takes five ever to find them and is freaking out the entire time.
Calling you clingy
Han Jisung x Reader 한지성
a/n: Hi! I’m sorry if this took so long but I’m kinda struggling with my emotions lately and I don’t really like the way I write… hope you’ll like it tho
The day felt doomed from the moment you opened your eyes.
Your alarm hadn’t gone off, leaving you scrambling to get ready. You spilled coffee on your only clean shirt, missed your bus, and when you finally arrived at work, it was like the universe conspired against you. A project you’d poured your heart into was torn apart in a meeting, and the snide comments from a coworker still rang in your ears. By the time you walked through your apartment door that evening, you felt like a frayed wire—one spark away from snapping.
Han sat on the couch, earbuds in, a notebook balanced on his lap. His pen moved furiously across the page, his frustration evident in every stroke. Seeing him there, a small part of your tension eased. He’ll make this better, you thought. He always does…
“Hey,” you said softly, closing the door behind you.
He didn’t look up. “Hey.”
You hesitated, unsure if he’d even heard you. “Han… I’m sorry to bother you but I had the worst day. I don’t even know where to start. I just… I really need you right now. Please…”
You had always been nice to him, always making sure to give him his space. And he knew.
But this time, he sighed, setting his notebook aside but still not meeting your eyes. “Y/N, I can’t do this right now. I’m kind of drowning here myself.”
His words hit you like a cold wave. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, rubbing his temples, “I’ve been dealing with my own stuff all day. I’m exhausted too.”
You stared at him, your throat tightening. “I’m not asking you to solve anything, Han. I just wanted… I needed you to be here with me... I’m sorry-”
Finally, he looked at you, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Stop saying you’re sorry! It’s like… you can’t handle anything without me. You’re always leaning on me, and it’s—” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “It’s clingy, Y/N.”
The word sliced through you like a knife. “Clingy?” you echoed, your voice cracking.
Han stood, pacing in the small space. “Yes, clingy. Every time something goes wrong, I’m the first person you run to, and I can’t—”
“And what?” you interrupted, anger bubbling up. “You can’t handle that? I thought that’s what relationships were for—being there for each other!”
His voice rose to match yours. “It is! But I’m not your emotional punching bag! I have limits too!”
Your chest tightened, tears prickling at your eyes. “Fine. If I’m so clingy, maybe I should stop coming to you altogether.”
“Maybe you should.” His voice was cold.
He grabbed his keys from the counter and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The silence that followed felt deafening. You stood frozen, tears spilling over as his words echoed in your head.
You’ve never seen him like this. It hurt so bad it felt like you were drowning in your own tears.
You decided to listen to some music to distract yourself, until..
*Sniff sniff*
The smell of smoke was faint at first, so faint you ignored it. You thought it was coming from outside—someone burning leaves or a neighbor cooking. But then the fire alarm shrieked through the building, and the panic set in.
When you opened the door, smoke poured in, thick and choking. Flames flickered at the end of the hallway. Grabbing your phone and bag, you stumbled into the chaos, your heart pounding as the smoke burned your lungs.
By the time you made it outside, the cool night air felt like relief, but your head swam, and you couldn’t stop coughing. Paramedics found you, guiding you to an ambulance. You barely registered their words as they placed an oxygen mask over your face, the world spinning around you.
While you were fighting for your own life, Han wandered the city, replaying your argument in his head. At first, he felt justified—you’d been overwhelming lately, hadn’t you? But as the minutes stretched into hours, guilt started creeping in. You weren’t clingy; you trusted him enough to lean on him when things got tough. And he’d thrown that trust back in your face.
He turned toward the apartment, ready to apologize, when he saw smoke curling into the sky. His heart stopped.
“No. No, no, no,” he whispered, breaking into a sprint.
The fire was massive, consuming the upper floors of the building—your floor. His lungs burned as he ran, panic rising with every step. By the time he reached the scene, fire trucks and ambulances surrounded the complex.
“Y/N!” he shouted, shoving through the crowd of evacuees. “Have you seen Y/N?”
No one answered. He called your name again, louder this time, his voice cracking. His legs felt like they might give out, his thoughts racing to every worst-case scenario.
Finally, he spotted you in the back of an ambulance. Relief hit him so hard that he nearly collapsed.
“Y/N!” he cried, rushing to your side.
You looked up, your face pale but alive, the oxygen mask resting on your lap. “You came back,” you said hoarsely.
Han dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands shaking as he reached for yours. “I—I thought—I thought I lost you,” he stammered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry. I never should have left. I was selfish, and I was wrong. I’m so, so sorry.”
You stared at him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Finally, you pulled the mask down, your voice trembling. “You called me clingy, Han. You left me when I needed you most. Do you know how much that hurt?”
His face crumpled. “I know. I was an idiot. I didn’t mean it—I was overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. But I’ll never do that again. I swear. You mean everything to me, Y/N. Everything.”
Your lip trembled, tears welling up in your eyes. “You made me feel like I didn’t matter to you. Like I was just… too much.”
Han cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “You’re not too much. You’ll never be too much. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if I have to. I’m so sorry.”
For a moment, you hesitated, the pain still fresh in your chest. But the sincerity in his eyes—the fear, the guilt, the love—broke down your walls. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch.
“Okay,” you whispered. “But it’s going to take time.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hands steadying as he held you close. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”
That night, you stayed together in your apartement, after making sure you were all right at the hospital, the weight of the day still heavy but no longer unbearable. Han didn’t let go of you for a second, whispering soft reassurances until your eyes closed.
You weren’t sure how long it would take to heal, but as you drifted off, you knew one thing: Han was willing to try.
@intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @omgsecretsecret @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon
ALIEN — [18+!]
![ALIEN — [18+!]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6de2406a0318826ea1d099308ba8a7c9/46b0d2785a768723-f4/s500x750/d82e24171abfdd8075ea136df60529e0d07a5ddf.jpg)
![ALIEN — [18+!]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1a5dbba96e3245c4d615b167f49e695d/46b0d2785a768723-2d/s500x750/8bcf4a2e5e97f86a4c4e3bd316609e5c4ef29b99.jpg)
![ALIEN — [18+!]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/60551d9d791c909da687e38183bec0ad/46b0d2785a768723-24/s500x750/98eff7f814ec2215f9b29607947393822f1451da.jpg)
“Remember… you’re my girlfriend,” he whispers into your ear.
It lets shivers run down your spine.
God, how you wished he said that in a real context to you.
![ALIEN — [18+!]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/22724730ccb8c491efcd2a0e2246f16b/46b0d2785a768723-76/s500x750/c55de882c13feddb84f92259467f53ebc635ca24.jpg)
👽 SYNOPSIS: Spawned at the age of thirteen—on his mission as a spy on planet earth—Jisung is made to build a bond with a human, quickly developing a tie of friendship and trust. On his 25th birthday, he is supposed to bring said creature to his home. But there’s a problem—by now, he has fallen hopelessly in love with you and there’s only one way to escape the awful mission: you need to return those hopeless feelings.
💭 CONTENT INFO: jisung x afab reader, alien/demon jisung, human reader, childhood friends to lovers, fake dating au, angst/smut/fluff, dark romance, mutual pining (they are dumb idiots), demisexual reader, there’s only one bed, perv jisung but reader isn’t any better lmao, based on the meme of jisung “spawning” as a teenager and a dream about an alien abduction I had in 2020, also a huge thank you @ lotus for inspiring + encouraging me to continue working on this story so make sure to check out her fic otherwordly, warnings and smut tags under the cut
🫧 WORD COUNT: 10.9K
🛸 CONTENT WARNING: (heavier topics since it’s dark romance, also contains spoilers) kidnapping, alien abduction to experiment on humans, demon powers, mention of death threats, pervy behaviour (panty stealing)
⛓️ SMUT: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, mind reading (consensual), slight bondage, praise kink, marking, slight spit play, creampie, name calling (baby, angel, good girl, love, slut, whore)
The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Minors do not interact, this post contains mature topics. By reading you consent to nswf content and agree that you have read all the warnings above carefully.
Three hours
“Sometimes I feel as if I don’t belong in this world.”
Jisung’s hand comes to a halt, stopping the motion on your head for a second. Your hair feels so soft colliding with his skin.
“Do you know that feeling, Sungie?”
He chuckles. Out of embarrassment. Nervousness. You name it.
“What do you mean?”
You get up from your position—your head in his lap—now, taking the seat next to him on the sofa instead.
“You know… like an alien almost.”
He believes his heart suddenly stops.
“No,” Jisung exhales, “I-I don’t know what you mean.”
Suddenly, you scoot a little closer again and by now your best friend believes you will actually be able to listen to his pounding heart, basically pumping through his sweater. He looks adorable like this. It was a great idea to hide all the scissors in your shared apartment and Jisung is simply both too lazy and too introverted to make an appointment at a hairdresser which works quite well for your advantages.
But not for his.
Especially, when you once again look at him like this before bringing your hand to his head, disheveling the strands. His hair is even softer than that innocent look on his face—which is surprising for two reasons.
First, Jisung practically killed his hair by an endless cycle of bleaching and dyeing it black and bleaching it again in a way too short span of time, sending any hairstylist into cardiac arrest. But it’s still beautiful and not as fried as you would have expected it to be.
Second—and this is the part that you are unaware of—Jisung is anything but innocent. Quite frankly, he’s basically the polar opposite of that term.
Not by choice, though.
He’s a victim of his own destiny after all.
“You’re a nerd, a fucking weirdo like me, Sung. You can’t tell me you’ve never felt like an outsider,” you tell him with a smirk, nudging his shoulder in the process.
But he doesn’t really react the way he usually does.
Something seems to be off today. Strangely off.
“You said alien, not outsider,” he says, keeping his gaze on the show that is playing on the bright screen in front of him.
You catch the remote in your hand, turning off the TV.
That’s when Jisung looks at you. But mostly because he’s pissed off that you’re switching his focus on the conversation now.
He doesn’t want to talk to you about this. Not now.
Any other day would have been fine but he gets even more nauseous thinking about the consequences of the clock reaching midnight will have.
“I meant the same,” you continue. You take a sip from your lemonade, before placing the bright pink strawberry beverage back on the table in front of you. “Don’t put too much thought into what words I choose to describe similar things.”
You can see Jisung rolling his eyes. His arms are crossed in front of his chest—his very much muscular chest that he’s hiding under the thick sweater. The fact he’s been hitting the gym regularly again these past weeks makes you almost start drooling at the thought right here.
Yeah. That’s the other issue.
You don't only find your roommate and best friend absolutely attractive but also have a massive crush on him.
Something tells you that he feels the same. You suppose, at least, judging from the way he looks at you when he believes you don't notice.
Or the fact he always buys that strawberry-kiwi flavoured lemonade for you from the convenience store right across the street.
Or how he always makes sure you drink enough water besides that, eat your meals, get enough sleep—including cuddles with him whenever another one of those awful nightmares is haunting you.
Jisung makes dinner—aka instant ramen—for you whenever you’re too exhausted after work.
He encourages you to make appointments at doctor’s offices that are long overdue.
He holds your hand when you cry, he holds your hand when you laugh.
Jisung picks up dandelions he sees on his way home, knowing they are your favourite flowers.
I don’t care that they are considered to be weeds. They can grow anywhere, no matter the surroundings. They don’t give a shit and I love that, you’d always explain. And the way they shapeshift, not caring what others think.
Your best friend takes care of the apartment whenever you’re too tired—although he’s the most chaotic person you know.
He does the laundry, even separating the colours—yeah, unbelievable, considering he’s a man!
Speaking of laundry.
That’s where another, darker hint of him possibly having a crush on you comes into play.
You believe it started a few years ago, some time during college, but it has happened more frequently the past few months.
It’s not a big deal, you know that washing machines sometimes swallow socks and other smaller, thinner stuff.
But it can’t be a coincidence that a lot of your panties go missing, can it? Or that they take a lot longer to be washed than other pieces of clothing, right?
Especially those tighter, prettier ones. The ones that are reserved for special occasions that, well, don’t really happen but they still make you feel absolutely attractive wearing them from time to time.
Just a couple of days ago—while doing the laundry this time—you went into Jisung’s room to grab his dirty clothes from his hamper and found three or four of your worn panties hidden between his sweaters and jeans.
In addition to that, some of them were possibly a bit different than how you remembered them to look like when you discarded them—now decorated in… well… his cum.
If it was anyone else, you’d be disgusted and it perhaps sounds problematic to an outside person but since you trust him so much, you don’t care.
You feel embarrassed to admit it but for some reason you feel flustered and may have, possibly, thought about him coating your used underwear in his juices while you were inches deep in your cunt with your own fingers.
Maybe. Just maybe.
However, that’s why you want him to make the first move. You want to know that he’s serious about it before you confess anything and either those accusations are wrong or he’s just generally… weird. Pervy. Whatever.
Or doesn’t want anything serious. Which is very reasonable.
But you’re not up for casual sex, never have been. You don’t judge people craving intimacy without a special bond but after trying it some time in college, you decided you live better with meaningful encounters.
Well. Those encounters have been non-existent for some years. To be specific—since you realised how much in love you are with your weirdo roommate.
“Can we just go on with the movie?”
Right. You’re still here with him.
God it’s fucking embarrassing that those little thoughts have your heart running a marathon and you intuitively pressing your thighs together.
But Jisung doesn’t notice.
“Yeah, you are weird. Weirder than me,” you reply.
Jisung doesn’t say anything but you’re not waiting for a reaction. He’s probably stressed from all the work. His new job has been sucking all the light and life out of his soul, almost turning him into a career demon.
Since you feel bad about that, you decide to grab the remote, continuing the movie.
You can practically feel the anxiety that is shooting out of his body, filling the whole living room in a tense atmosphere.
You’ve probably gone too far. Fuck.
“Sungie?”
He sighs, since he’s not really in the mood for any more questions from you today. He just wants to get this over with. “Yeah?”
You hear the annoyance, the constant stress that is crawling under his skin and how it’s reflected in his quiet voice. So, you make sure to be extra sensitive.
“I’m glad you’re here with me. I’m sorry if my words hurt you. I just wanted to tell you how comfortable and safe I feel around you since you never judge me for being… different.”
Fuck.
This just makes him feel even more horrible.
You probably won’t think that way anymore once the clock strikes midnight.
“I’m… I’m very glad to have you, too, Y/N.”
His heart aches.
He’s definitely the worst living being in this whole universe.
Thirty minutes
You’ve fallen into a deep slumber but Jisung doesn’t care. It’s quite the opposite. There’s nothing better on this planet than having you snuggled up in his lap, your quiet and peaceful little breaths filling the room.
You trust him with your whole heart. Whatever it is—you’ll always feel comfortable around him. He’s your anchor when the floods are dragging you away from the shore right into the deep ocean.
What a shame he will destroy everything in less than half an hour.
All those years.
Those years of trust.
Of familiarity.
Of friendship.
Of something that could have become love, perhaps.
Jisung doesn’t need to worry anymore if you return his silly little feelings. Not if he’s the one to demolish that tight bond in the next hour.
He hears a vibrating sound coming from next to his seat on the couch. His eyes switch to his second phone, screen lightening up in the dark living room.
[Boss 23:32]: The ropes and chains and all you need are in the box we sent you. Any more questions?
He could burst out into tears at the spot. But Jisung will have enough opportunities to cry out his heart later.
He hates this.
He hates everything and everyone.
This whole universe is a shitshow for throwing him into a destiny like this.
Although he’s asked his evil boss a thousand times, Jisung won’t give up. He loves you too much for this. There has to be some type of escape.
So, he types, trying again.
[Jisung 23:34]: Can’t I just ask her to come with me?
He sees the three little dots appear and his heart might as well just rip his chest open.
Another message pops up, making his head all dizzy.
[Boss 23:34]: No. That is too risky. It has to be kidnapping just to make sure she really tags along.
Fuck.
There’s no way around this horrifying situation.
Twenty five minutes.
Twenty four minutes and fifty nine seconds.
Twenty four minutes and fifty eight seconds.
You suddenly stir around in your sleep, as you adjust your position to lay on your back and still very much on Jisung’s lap.
Your beautiful eyes open a little, just as much as they manage to do in this sleepy state and enough for you to see your best friend above you.
“Sung?”
God. His heart is built up again just to break into a tiny thousand splinters another time.
He will lose you.
If it’s not for you turning against him—which would be more than understandable—he will at least lose you to those evil bosses that have made gruesome plans with you as the main character.
And Jisung happens to be the deliverer.
“Y-You’re still awake?” you ask in your sleepy state.
Your best friend places a strand of your hair behind your ear, softly grazing over your cheek—one last time.
“Yeah, baby,” Jisung softly hums, “you fell asleep. It’s almost midnight. ‘M gonna bring you to bed, okay?”
You blink a few times, propping yourself up.
“Hm? W-What about your birthday, Sungie?”
Even in a situation like this, Jisung is all you care and think about.
“My birthday will be twenty four hours long, we’ll have enough time after sleeping,” he assures you, before he picks you up.
You fall asleep in his arms, as he carries you bridal style to your room. Luckily, you’re already in your—unfortunately very skimpy—pyjamas, so Jisung only has to tuck you under the covers and lay your little plush quokka next to you. His name is Peter. Jisung gave it to you as a present on your birthday last year.
He watches you another minute, saying goodbye to the peaceful atmosphere before it’ll vanish away.
Although you’re already deep in your slumber, you still witness your best friend placing the sweetest kiss on your cheek, before he leaves your room.
Three minutes
The door creaks open again a little later and Jisung curses himself for the noise.
Unfortunately, you notice the little sound, as you wake up and change in a seating position in your bed.
“Sung? Is it your birthday yet?” you ask, when you make out his silhouette in the distance.
“No, no,” he says, as he approaches you. You can tell by the increasing volume in his soft voice.
So soft.
So opposite to what he’s about to you.
Jisung is carrying all the supplies behind him.
In a box there’s enough chains, ropes and tapes to keep you quiet.
But he can’t do it to you.
At least not like that.
He can’t physically harm you when he already isn’t able to avert the mental hurt.
“Why are you here then? Can’t sleep? We can cuddle,” you offer.
Jisung is about to get nauseous. Fuck. This is the worst day ever.
But he can’t do anything against it. He can only try to ease the situation a little.
Well, but how do you make a kidnapping attempt comfortable for the victim?
“Don’t worry about me, baby,” Jisung says, when he reaches the edge of your bed. “Go back to sleep, yeah?”
You fall down on your back again.
“Alright… good night.”
Jisung feels bad for thinking that the position you're in enlightens two thoughts he shouldn’t have.
First, you look absolutely alluring like this. Your shorts have ridden up a bit, putting your thighs on full display for him. It’s a beautiful picture—one that lets his mind wander to the idea of having you under him, watching you drool in anticipation as you beg Jisung to kiss you, to touch you, to fuck you.
Second, you’re making it a little too easy for him to fulfill his awful mission. It’ll be anything but complicated to tie your wrists and feet together, shut your mouth with some tape to throw you over his shoulder.
There’s just one small issue.
Jisung will not be able to do this while you notice anything.
He can’t do that to you. He can’t traumatise you even more.
In all of his twelve years on this planet, Jisung has never used his demon powers against people that he loves.
Well, there’s a first for everything.
👽
You wake up on the backseat of a car. The windows are darkened, making it impossible to get even a glimpse of your surroundings.
It’s insane how fast your heart is beating and how much trouble you have getting oxygen into your lungs—mostly caused by the utmost panic that is washing over you and the restraints around your hands, arms and legs aren’t making it any easier.
You figure out that the kidnapper forgot one important thing—he didn’t cover your mouth.
However, it still takes you at least five minutes, as you listen to the sound of the engine and a song on repeat with the title Driving Nowhere thundering from the speakers, to regain power over your voice.
“Sorry– uhm– w-who are you… why am I h-here?”
He doesn’t want to talk back. But the tears are stinging in his eyes when he hears the fear in your broken words.
How could he have done this to you?
He is your best friend. The person you’re the closest with, that means the most to him. He would literally kill for you.
And now he’s hurting you instead?
Well, it’s not as if he’s ever had the choice.
That was his destiny from the beginning.
Who would have thought he would first befriend his victim and then hopelessly fall in love with them?
Jisung is the worst demon to ever exist.
But he’s never wanted this life anyway.
Maybe he can somehow justify kidnapping you once he explains that the only other alternative would have been that both your lives end here. To be fair—that isn’t really an option.
“Y/N…” he decides to call out your name. He can’t lie to you. He’s been crying about this since the car ride, that’s supposed to bring you to the portal, started an hour ago.
When the sound of his voice enters your ears, your breath hitches.
What on earth is going on?
Does this have something to do with his birthday?
It could be. But why are you restricted by ropes and chains then?
“Sungie?” your voice is so small, almost inaudible, but he still catches that sweet but terrified melody.
“I’m… sorry…”
You break out into laughter then. More like a scoff. You don’t know what to say or do.
Maybe it’s a dream. You’ve been having a bunch of weird ones these past weeks.
But something tells you it’s not. Something tells you this is reality.
“So you’re… kidnapping me?” you decide to just ask him.
“I… am. Yeah.”
He’s not even denying it?
Is this one of those little fantasies he has?
Jisung doesn’t know about it but some time ago you accidentally scrolled through his browser history when you were borrowing his computer for a work project, finding a collection of ebooks, mangas and animes all including darker genres.
There was also some adult content revolving around helplessness, hypnosis and bondage as well. It wasn’t anything too alarming, all in a consensual context but putting two and two together it’s absolutely weird now.
And, yes. You watched those videos. Of course, only for scientific purposes. Although, you may have discovered some unknown kinks of yours in the process.
However, there’s a difference between having a fantasy about something and actually doing it.
“Jesus Christ, I told you to stop consuming those weird books and shows about demons and God knows what. It seriously fucks with your brain.”
Jisung thinks his body paralyses. It’s a miracle that he can still keep his eyes on the road and his hands on the steering wheel.
You’re sure there’s an explanation behind this.
You trust your best friend too much to believe he’s been leading you on for the past twelve years to then grab you and bring you somewhere unknown. It’s obvious that he hides some secret identity—maybe he’s a spy or working for secret services and can’t tell you more and therefore has to kidnap you to bring you along to his next mission.
Jisung has been behaving suspiciously his whole life, you’ve always thought it’s funny. Especially since he seems to not grasp that you’re aware of it.
Of course, it’s fucking toxic nonetheless. It doesn’t matter if his intentions are pure, he’s scared you for life.
So, the only logical consequence is to tease him as well.
With your own weapons.
“Besides that,” you start again, “if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just told me.”
The car comes to a halt when he suddenly hits the breaks. Jisung can be glad no one is driving behind you around that hour since he would have otherwise caused an accident.
“W-What?” he asks.
“Just kidding,” you say. “I’ll go back to sleep, wake me up once we’re at our destination.”
Jisung gulps. So loud that you must have heard it.
Maybe that’s why you open your eyes again, before you start speaking, “Also, before I forget it…”
He looks at your reflection in the rearview mirror.
“Huh?”
You click your tongue.
“Happy birthday, you weirdo.”
👽
It’s a miracle but you actually manage to fall asleep again.
Well, you did. But before you were able to wake up, Jisung used his demon powers again to make sure it stays this way.
That’s how he manages to guide you through the portal unscathed and he’s so fucking glad about it, he’s close to tears again.
You’re only waking up a little while later, sitting on a bench next to none other than your best friend who's holding you in his arms. The restraints around your wrists and ankles are gone but you can still sense the tight feeling around them, no matter how careful Jisung was with you.
“Where am I?” you blurt out, hastily turning your head around, taking in your surroundings.
“Safe with me, I-I promise,” Jisung says.
The air tastes weird around here. You’re sure you’re inside a building but oxygen seems pure, as if you’re inhaling molecules at the beach—one that is far from any type of civilization. All natural.
People seem to be generally smaller here, Jisung being amongst the tallest.
Weird. You really can’t figure out which country you’re in.
You have a distant memory of the car ride earlier but what happened after that is wiped out. You suppose that Jisung brought you here, possibly by plane.
Earth seems to turn around faster, making you dizzy. Maybe you’re closer to the equator which would explain the intense speed.
But that shouldn’t be that much of a difference, right?
It’s almost as if you can feel the rotation of the massive rock that gravity glues you to spinning around.
Speaking of gravity—from time to time it’s almost as if a force is pulling you to the ground. Not strong enough for you to actually land on the floor, but you still feel it.
It’s all so… weird.
You seriously don’t know how else to word it.
But Jisung is here with you.
As ridiculous as it sounds, you feel safe with Jisung. Here in his arms. His warm breath tingles your skin whenever he pulls you closer.
You noticed the tears in his eyes minutes ago and maybe they are enough to tell you he didn’t want this oddinary situation either.
“I believe you,” you tell him.
His head snaps towards your face, as he stares at you in disbelief.
“Really?”
Well, even if you wouldn’t—it’s not like you have a choice anyway. You’re completely relying on him.
“I do. So, could you please explain to me what the fuck is going on?”
He gulps, then he nods and a few more tears spill from his beautiful dark brown eyes. God. They’ve always amazed and almost hypnotised you to some extent.
“Y-Yeah,” he hesitantly begins, “it’s gonna sound dumb and weird but please bear with me.”
When you nod, Jisung gains enough confidence to start explaining.
“We’re not on planet Earth but on an earth-like planet called ITEM 180325—yes, the name is dumb, humans chose that years ago—that is also part of our solar system.”
He watches your confused expression. You’re caught in a bad movie, you’re sure. But the first thing that comes to your mind is something else.
“Wait– isn’t our solar system made of Venus, Mars, Saturn and others?”
Jisung nods, “Yeah. ITEM 180325 is just a dwarf planet, even further away than Pluto and for some reason, humans on earth haven’t realised yet that there's oxygen and water and such here. There’s the theory that… we originated from earth, that ITEM collided with it or split apart from it years ago. I-It’s the planet where I am actually from.”
Your mouth falls agape. “What?!”
Jisung is not… human?
Your best friend chuckles, “I know, it sounds absolutely ridiculous. But it’s the truth. It explains why the habitants here look human-like, just smaller which is caused by the gravity that’s a lot more intense here.”
“And I’ve always thought you’re just not tall,” you say.
“Oh, I am tall here,” Jisung says, crossing his arms in front of his chest, earning a small nudge from you.
“Anyway, tell me more, Ji.”
He looks around, making sure no one listens to what you say. After all, the inhabitans of ITEM have mastered their skills in almost every language that is spoken on earth.
If you thought humans were great scientists and astronomers, you haven’t met ITEM’s people before. They’re much more advanced in anything technological, basically a thousand levels and years ahead.
That also explains what follows next.
He nods, “I’ve been a spy on planet earth since I was thirteen and, well, this will sound pretty bad but my main mission was to bring you here on my 25th birthday.”
You look at him with big eyes and Jisung takes one last deep breath, before he announces the worst part of this all.
“Please know that I didn’t h-have any choice to make. They threatened to k-kill both of us if I didn’t o-obey–“
“I believe you,” you cut him off.
But he instantly wents on with his rambling.
“They recruit humans h-here for… experiments. I don’t know exactly what they do but rumours say that it’s pretty bizarre and crucial. T-That’s why we’re here but– I already have a plan B how we will escape so please don’t–“
“Okay. I trust you,” you reassure him.
That’s when your words register.
You… trust him?
Seriously?
Never ever in this world he would have expected you to not detest him after what he did to you.
“Wow… I thought you would hate me after this.”
You understand him. You’ve always been an empath and you get that there was no other possibility than this.
And besides that…
He’s still Jisung.
Your Jisung.
Your best friend. Your other half. The person you trust the most in this world.
“I could never hate you.”
It’s the most inconvenient situation but you can’t control it. Your gaze flickers down to Jisung lips. God, those beautiful lips. How often you dreamt about laying your own on them…
And he notices you staring at him, as the thinnest layer of pink appears on his squishy cheeks.
But you can’t kiss him. Not here. Not now.
You still have so many questions and when the ideas start running around, doing parkour in your head, you just start speaking.
“Ji, is that… why you don’t have any… family?”
He instantly knows what you’re referring to.
Right. His alien identity.
You both still have to get used to the secret being revealed now.
“Yeah. I have relatives here but they… abandoned me. That’s why the government assigned me this horrible mission. I indeed spawned at the age of thirteen on Earth.”
You think back to how you two first met.
Eighth grade, a warm morning in early September. His tanned skin was glittering so beautifully in the autumn sun.
Jisung told you right from the start that he’s been living in an orphanage but he never seemed sad about it. It all makes sense now.
You can’t miss something that you’re not aware of.
Besides that, the love and trust he got from you and your relatives has always been enough to feed his heart.
His smile proves that he must be thinking about the same fond memories right now, you can tell—almost as if you’re communicating without any words.
“Han Jisung, Y/LN Y/N.”
A voice suddenly erupts from right beside you. It comes from a man wearing a name tag that says The President’s right hand man.
“Your appointment with the president is next.”
The man disappears again, leaving your best friend and you alone in the corridor, still sitting close together on the bench.
That’s when you see Jisung’s mood has suddenly shifted. It did a one hundred and eighty degree turn.
Fear. All over his face. You can practically feel it with your own heart.
He realises now that this might be over soon.
Fuck.
He hates himself now for never making a move on you.
Jisung could have spend hours, days, months and years kissing and loving you if he hadn’t been such a fucking coward.
“Okay, calm down, Sungie,” he hears you speak.
But he just looks at you.
“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? How the fuck are you not stressed?!”
You grab both his arms, holding him, trying to ease his mind as much as possible.
“Because I trust you. I trust us. There must be something to stop that evil mission,” you say.
That’s when a lightbulb appears over his head, rushing away the dark clouds that had been above him just prior.
“There… there is… but I can’t expect that from you,” he says with a shy voice.
Yeah. As if you’d care.
You’d do anything to save the both of you.
You would literally kill for Jisung.
“God, stop playing around. Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” you say all nonchalantly.
He takes a deep breath, as he catches a glimpse of the palms of his hands that are lying in his lap.
“They w-will be… less likely to do experiments on you if… if you’re my g-girlfriend.”
That’s it?
You were expecting some stuff including a billion won, your first born and a fucking unicorn.
“Alright. Let’s do this, then,” you tell him.
“Really?”
Don’t get your hopes up too high, Jisung.
“Sure, bro. If that’s what it takes for me to survive, I’ll play the best girlfriend you've ever had.”
Bro.
Yeah, he should in fact not get his hopes up too high.
In the meantime, you curse yourself for calling him that.
Bro.
Well, you don’t want him to believe you have a crush on him.
Which is dumb because you, in fact, have a crush on him.
But Jisung doesn’t. You’re sure.
He’s just the kindest person and always watching out for you because you’re friends.
This doesn’t explain the laundry-incident but that’s neither the right place nor time to debate this very much arousing disaster in your head right now.
There’s another thing that needs to be discussed beforehand.
“How do we get back?”
“Hm?”
“You know, back home,” you say.
The lightbulb turns on again.
“Oh I… there’s this guy I have to find at the ceremony tonight… he’s like a spy from earth, originally from ITEM as well but turned his back against them. He has been in a situation like this and will help us. His name is Minho. We met before.”
His words fully convince you that Jisung didn’t want this at all.
This time you hear the door next to you swing open, revealing the man from earlier.
You reach for your best friend, no, fake boyfriend’s hand, squeezing it a little.
It’s gonna be okay.
You’re gonna get out of here alive and well.
The man with the name tag is suddenly next to you again and coughs, drawing your attention to him.
“Sorry to announce this but the appointment will be postponed to tomorrow morning. The president invites you to the welcome party for all the humans tonight, though.”
Oh.
You don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing and judging from Jisung’s look on his face he doesn’t know how to categorise this either.
“Here is the key card for your room. Since you seem to be a couple, we assigned you a shared room.”
👽
The dress in a teal shade doesn’t only hug your body quite perfectly but also matches the tie that Jisung is wearing. It makes sense—the president must have chosen that for the both of you.
You’re already entering the party venue, when your mind is still occupied with the view of the hotel room they have given you.
Absolutely luxurious—to an amount that it looks nothing but pretentious—with a huge king size bed in the middle. Ornaments of pure gold, shimmering diamonds and real silk are embellishing the interior.
It’s not like Jisung and you haven’t slept in one bed before, you’ve been best friends for twelve years—going on camping trips during the summer months every year—and with your current nightmares occurring spontaneous cuddle sessions have been happening more frequently.
However, this whole fake dating thing and the possibility of never seeing him again as of tomorrow, if the bosses decide to keep you for their psychopathic little experiments, it makes you wonder if this is the last possibility you get to finally do what you’ve been dreaming of for the past years.
You don’t even care anymore, you won’t let the chance slip again.
Not when you don’t know what follows tomorrow.
Or if tomorrow follows at all.
“Are you okay, baby?”
Jisung has called you by this name since some night in college when the nightmares started.
What you don’t know is that it was simultaneously when your best friend fell even harder for you. He’s always had a crush on you but his feelings hit harder on a random friday, when he picked you up from a party. You drank way too much after seeing your toxic ex at the frat house and just got emotional.
On autopilot, you dialed your best friend’s number and he immediately went there and brought you home to your shared apartment. He made sure you got sober again, made food for you and helped you get ready for bed—even brushing your teeth when you fell asleep in the middle of the process—and stayed by your side until the morning.
The first nightmare was probably caused by mixing beer, vodka and tequila together throughout the night. But the next ones followed for different reasons.
Those are the side effects of his demon powers.
Making someone he loves suffer in order to pull them closer to him. To make them cling to him.
So that he can take care of you.
It’s absolutely fucked up. But that’s how things are when you’re from ITEM.
“I’m okay, no worries,” you tell him.
You wonder if time stood still for a minute when your thoughts were running around again.
“Would you like something to drink?”
Your head snaps towards Jisung. God. You really have to calm down.
But how?
You’re fighting for your life, basically, and pretend to be Jisung’s significant other.
Being his lover is all you’ve ever dreamt of. After all, during nights of procrastination in college—which should have been spent with studying—it wasn’t unusual for you to create a sim of Jisung and one of you and make them marry each other, living their happily ever after.
Luckily, Jisung never caught you. That would have been the embarrassment of the century.
“Yeah… but water is fine,” you say.
“Of course.”
Jisung decides to copy your choice, as he tells you to wait. He walks towards the bar, asking for two glasses of iced cold water to keep you both awake.
Just when he’s about to grab the objects and head back towards you, someone stops him.
“Han Jisung?”
Strong arms instantly fill his vision. The guy isn’t much smaller than him, definitely one of the taller ones on this planet.
But how does he know his name?
“Yeah… that’s me. And you are?”
The buff man takes a sip from his bright pink glittering drink, the scents of pitaya entering Jisung’s nostrils. The liquid evaporates shimmering dust, drawing his attention to it.
Something like this would never happen on earth.
Maybe Jisung should have gotten a fancy beverage like this as well, but he needs to stay sober.
“I’m Changbin, nice to meet you.”
The name lets the lightbulb appear above Jisung’s head again.
This is good. Very good.
“Do you know if Minho is here?”
Changbin nods, “Oh, yeah. I saw him dancing with his spouse earlier. He should be somewhere around.”
“Thank you.”
Jisung takes the glasses in his hand, before he walks back to you and gives you one of them.
He doesn’t know what overtakes him—maybe the desperation, the hopelessness or his true love for you—but he gets dangerously close to you in a public setting.
All of a sudden, Jisung grabs your hand and for a second you get startled because of it.
“Remember… you’re my girlfriend,” he whispers into your ear.
It lets shivers run down your spine.
God, how you wished he said that in a real context to you.
You dearly hope your little lies will be successful enough to bring you back to earth and escape that shitshow. This whole setting is worth more than all your worst nightmares combined.
That’s when it clicks.
You’ve never cared about any label between the both of you.
Of course, you want to do things with Jisung that friends usually don’t do.
You’ve imagined him being the man next to you at the altar.
But you’ve always been okay with how everything has always been. It’s because you love Jisung so much that it doesn’t matter to you, what you two are.
You just want him close.
You just want him to be with you.
You just want him.
Maybe that’s true love after all.
Jisung’s been staring at you for a solid minute now, still holding your hand and pulling you closer. But complaining is the last thing you want to do.
It overcomes him right again.
All of a sudden, you feel a soft kiss on your cheek. It lasts a little longer than you would have expected.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, angel. I promise.”
Angel.
That’s unusual.
Jisung called you by this name only a few times.
The first one was when you fell off your bike when you two were fourteen. He rushed to you and even though he didn’t know anything about giving first aid, he still managed to make you feel better. Just him being there let the pain vanish away.
The second time was when your first boyfriend broke up with you in highschool, leaving you for the girl he told you not to worry about. When you called, Jisung was basically already at your house, bringing you a bag full of ice cream, candies and tissues without saying anything.
The third time was in college when you didn’t pass an exam you’ve been studying for for months but the professor didn’t like you. He assured you with the kindest and sweetest words, including this little pet name.
“Han Jisung, glad to have you here.”
The movie of nostalgic memories that is playing in front of your inner eyes suddenly comes to a halt.
You see your best friend taking a bow and you copy his movements.
“Mr Park. Thank you for the invitation.”
The man has a name tag on his suit jacket, saying The President’s right hand man. It’s the one from earlier.
“Oh, please, call me Jinyoung,” he says, shaking Jisung’s hands.
Jisung bows once more. Jinyoung gives you a warm smile, making you wonder how this person could possibly be involved in any of the deviant experiments.
“Your girlfriend is an asset to our whole planet. I can really imagine the two of you living happily ever after here,” he says, still keeping his gaze on you.
You thank him, feeling heat rise up to your head.
Then, Jinyoung comes a little closer to Jisung, aligning his mouth with your friend’s ear, making it impossible for you to catch his next words.
“What a shame your little fake relationship wasn’t convincing enough.”
You see Jisung freeze—his whole face and body paralyses.
“Baby?” he calls you.
“Hm?”
“Here,” he says, giving you the keycard, “why don’t you go to the hotel room, I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
You simply nod, too confused to ask any questions. So, you just follow suit, leaving Jisung alone.
In the meantime, he gathers up all his strength and focus to do what he has to do—find the guy he is looking for.
Lee Minho.
He has a faded memory of what he looks like. They met some years ago at a meeting on earth.
Five minutes pass. Another ten minutes follow.
Jisung is giving up.
Although Changbin told him Minho will be here, he doubts it at this point. Maybe, he just didn’t want Jisung to feel any more hopeless.
“Why are you drinking water, when there’s plenty of fancy beverages to try here?”
The voice startles him. It sounds familiar.
Jisung turns his head around, staring right into the eyes of the man he’s been searching for.
“Is it you… Minho?”
“Yeah– Jisung?” he asks when he notices his old friend.
“Chan… told me to search for you,” Jisung explains.
That’s when it fully clicks. Minho realises what their older, shared friend told him.
They’ve all been in similar situations before. Minho brought his assigned human here roughly two years ago, on his 25th birthday. He fell in love with them as well, the same Netflix drama-like disaster Jisung is caught in now.
They weren’t dating either, Minho had the same stupid idea to just pretend, soon realising it’s not enough to fight against everything evil.
So, Minho is his last chance. He’s the only one who can tell him how to survive. After all, he saved his person and himself two years ago, too.
“Park said we… w-weren’t convincing. Does this m-mean the worst?”
Jisung’s palms are sweaty, his knees are getting weaker and weaker with every second.
“Well… there’s still time. I will explain the rules to you. But in order to get back to earth, you have to follow them exactly how I tell you. No chickening out,” Minho warns him.
It’s all or nothing.
“Sure. Whatever it is, I– we will do it,” Jisung says.
“You both have to work on it.”
Jisung nods, rubbing with his hands over the sides of his pants because his palms are still so sweaty. God. He’s so fucking nervous. Not about what Minho will tell him but about the whole situation and growing possibility of not being able to save you.
“So, what is it, Minho?”
The older one gets a little closer, making sure no one hears them.
“Your love wasn’t convincing enough… We had a few couples here pretending to be in a relationship or get married even. I did the same back then. But the evil force can’t be overpowered if it’s not real.”
Jisung nods, trying to catch all the words despite the deafening sound of his heart beating at the speed of light.
“This means,” Minho continues, “you should work on that, make it as authentic as possible and if you meet that expectation, the portal will open on its own. You still have a chance—at the very last when you’re at the meeting with the president tomorrow. But the sooner, the safer.”
He pulls Minho into a hug, clinging onto his friend.
“Thank you so much.”
The other man chuckles, “Not for that. See you on earth.”
👽
“So, it wasn’t enough,” you sum up Jisung’s five minute long hysterical monologue.
He came back with tears in his eyes, falling to his knees and begging you for forgiveness that he brought you into this. You shushed him up again, telling him to not be such a drama queen and that whatever’s going on can be solved.
Then, he poured his heart out, telling you about Jinyoung’s words and how he met Minho afterwards.
You have to do more than this. You have to be real.
“We weren’t authentic,” you repeat his words.
I am the most authentic, Y/N, because I am in love with you, Jisung thinks but he doesn’t say it out loud.
“Maybe… maybe not enough,” he adds.
Well. That still sounds very manageable.
You can act the best if it’s not acting, after all.
Showing Jisung affection isn’t the hardest thing in this world. Sure, you haven’t done it before, haven’t made a serious move so far because of your stupid crush on him but now it’s live or die and you can at least blame it on that.
A win-win situation.
Not really. But you keep telling yourself exactly that.
“We can work on that,” you say.
“H-How?” he shyly asks.
“We… could kiss. For instance,” you suggest, slowly nodding your head.
Jisung’s eyes are practically falling out.
“N-Now?”
If not now, when? Does he want to wait until tomorrow?
You doubt it’s a good idea to randomly start a make out session when meeting the president for the first time just to be escorted to the experiment building.
“Why not? You said the portal might open on its own when we’re convincing enough. We have no time to lose,” you remind him.
Jisung nods and just when he’s about to take a step towards you, he decides to take off his suit jacket as well as the tie.
He pulls at the teal fabric, loosening it before he throws it right on the chair a few meters away.
Oh, God.
You’re doomed.
With long strides he approaches you, before he grabs your face with both his hands.
“Are you sure you want this?”
It’s the only chance he’s got.
It’s the only chance you’ve got.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
For a second Jisung believes this isn’t about pretending anymore.
Especially, when he finally presses his lips against yours and you instantly give in, practically melt and then drown in his hold. Your hands copy his motions, as you pull him closer. He instead places his own on your hips, pulling you closer.
You can’t get enough. He hasn’t even done much yet but you’re already under his spell.
Jisung’s tongue grazes over your lips next, asking for entrance which you eagerly allow him. Your own starts dancing with his, swirling around at the same pace and rhythm of your heartbeats.
He can’t hold back—his lips are leaving their place, very much against your preference, but he makes up for it when he attaches them to your jaw instead. The most beautiful patterns wander down your neck, before they decide to stay there for a little longer, drawing the prettiest flowers all over again, almost like a tattoo that’ll remind you of who you’ve belonged to all along.
When Jisung pulls back for a second, his eyes finding yours, you could swear they darkened by a thousand shades, almost looking—unreal, magical, demonic.
“Still not enough, huh?” he teases, like the menace he is.
His hand is keeping your head in place, index finger lifting up your chin so that you’re forced to look at him.
“Hm, we could try more, Sungie,” you playfully reply, clicking your tongue.
“More?” he asks, pretending he doesn’t know what you’re referring to.
After all, your request should be the most intimate form two souls can engage with, right?
Jisung hasn’t forgotten about the fact that you’re only sleeping with people you have a strong, romantic connection with. But he’s too shy to ask what this means and also doesn’t want to ruin the mood.
And well, in your case this shouldn’t be a hindrance anyway.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about burying your cock inside me before,” you provoke him.
“H-How–“
There’s a reason Jisung hasn’t made a move on you before. It’s, well, let’s say connected to his identity of not being human.
At least he blames it on that and not the fact he’s an absolute coward.
“I caught you stealing my underwear, you creep.”
Well and that. Yeah. That was also something holding him back.
His guilty conscience.
But when he can’t be with you, he thought the idea of you would live up to it.
Spoiler: It didn't. Jisung got desperate over time and the fact he has all those deep and dark desires, a million times stronger caused by his hidden strength, didn’t make thinking logically any easier.
It did start innocently. At first, they were just thoughts. Then, you accidentally left one of your panties in his laundry basket when giving him his fresh clothes.
And well from there… it all went downhill. He tried to be as discreet about it as possible.
He always made sure to throw your panties into his own hamper after… using them for what they’re not intended to be used for.
Spoiler: He failed.
“Y/N– I’m sorry I–“
Your hand wanders up to his face now. He deserves a little teasing.
Was it wrong doing this? Absolutely.
Did it just turn you on even more? Maybe.
So, you brush over his cheeks with your fingers, as a pout appears on your face.
Jisung is terrified. He feels bad about it and you can definitely tell.
“You’re a bit of a pervert but it’s a good thing that I’m the same when it comes to you,” you whisper.
That’s when his eyes darken even further, almost making him look like a creature from another world.
Well…
“You like the idea, hm?”
Oh, fuck.
You underestimated this.
“You’re craving my hands all over you? Want me to touch you, to take care of you, angel?”
He kisses you again. A billion times more passionate than before, if that’s even possible. You give in, allow him to guide you through the movements, before you pull away.
“I want you,” you tell him and that’s all he needs to hear.
Jisung lets go for a second to switch off the big light and turn on the little lamps above the headboard instead, shrouding the room in a dim colour of red. How convenient this hotel is.
You chuckle, when he comes closer again, already busy continuing the little artwork on your neck again.
You lose track of time and space, of everything that the universe has ever come up with. Nothing matters when you’re with Jisung, he’s all you’ve ever needed and if you’re to die tomorrow, you lived the best life you could’ve ever had.
“You’re beautiful,” he says between kisses, but all you can do is whimper, as your head falls back, letting him take the lead.
“Baby?”
He disconnects his lips for a second from your skin, before he lifts up his gaze, wanting to be on eye level with you.
“Y-Yeah?”
Jisung takes a deep breath. He still has to warn you about something before you take this any further. God, he seriously prays you won’t freak out.
“Once we start… you may have noticed how my eyes turn darker… I won’t be… won’t be able to stop… there are these powers that will t-take over me and they will affect you too and–“
“I want this. I’ve wanted this for years,” you reassure him.
Whatever it is, you’re fine with it. You’re not surprised he might differ a little from humans, he’s not from earth after all.
Meanwhile, Jisung is busy trying to not scream out loud.
You’ve wanted this for years? For fucking years?
“Are you for real?”
“Yeah. I thought you’d catch the hint sooner,” you let him know.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
He tilts his head a little, bringing his hand to your face to place a strand of hair behind your ear.
A move he did so many times before but for some reason your heart skips two beats in a row this time instead of just one.
“I wanted you to make the first move… with all your pervy behaviour I wanted to make sure you’re doing this because of me and not some general thing–“
“No. Just you. It has been you all along,” he admits.
“Then… what are you still waiting for, Han Jisung?”
That’s when his eyes darken to the fullest, filling your whole vision. He looks like… something mystical. Like the opposite of an angel and you wonder if that’s the reason he chose that name for you.
“Ruin me, demon boy,” you half-jokingly say.
But since it’s Han Jisung we’re talking about, of course this only turns him on even more.
He instantly goes in for a kiss and now the feeling overtakes you completely, you feel your souls connecting—a sensation you can’t describe with any word of any language you’ve ever learnt.
It’s like he’s your gravity and you’re floating in space, getting closer to him until you become one.
Jisung’s hands are by now all over you and you wonder how long it’ll take him to basically rip that short teal dress apart, until… well… the dress leaves your body on its own.
It wasn’t Jisung who took it off you, he was way too busy pulling his own button up shirt over his head.
Which means…
“You can take off– with your mind?!” you ask, standing there in your underwear only.
Jisung admires your body for a second and when he realises you’re wearing his favourite pair of panties of yours, he fears he might just cum on the spot. God, how many times he sneaked into your room to grab that specific piece of fabric.
“Hm, I can do a lot more than that,” he tells you.
“For instance?”
“Well, just in general fuck your brains out.”
The words leave his lips all casually and you might as well swoon right here, right now.
But Jisung is faster, already picking you up—bridal style—to place you on the huge bed. The mattress shifts under your weight and moves a little more when he follows.
He gets rid of his pants next, leaving him only in his boxers. You can already see the outline of his hardening cock, straining against the fabric of his underwear. Your friend turned lover positions his upper body between your legs, parting your thighs with no effort, before his lips make the most beautiful sequel of that artwork on your neck.
And that’s when your mind goes blank.
You don’t know if Jisung helped you out of your bra, if it was his demon power or you yourself but a minute later you find yourself almost completely naked in his hold.
Jisung’s fingers are grazing over the thin material of your panties. They’re practically transparent—arousal dripping through them—which is the reason they are his favourite. He imagined you wearing these and wondered if he could catch a glimpse of your pretty pussy whenever you walked up the stairs in front of him while wearing a dress.
He could. A few times when your skirts were short enough.
But nothing comes close to having you a few inches away from him, sprawled out on the bed, begging for more.
However, Jisung takes his time. Painfully slowly, he finally slips down your underwear but keeps it not too far away for later purposes.
As if he’s controlling your mind—but you’re in fact just more than eager—you part your legs even further, granting him better access. Jisung dives right in, after spreading your pussy lips apart. His tongue collides with your clit and for a second you believe you’re in heaven.
Collecting a little bit of saliva—although you’re more than wet enough for him—he spits on your sensitive nub, just to go right back to making out with it. You’re already arching your back, gripping the sheets and begging for more.
Your head gets thrown back and whimper after whimper leaves your mouth. Just when Jisung lets out a moan himself, drowning in your delicious scents, your gaze snaps back.
He looks so alluring. Almost like an angel, a God—it’s unbelievable he is supposed to be a demon or whatever he calls himself.
“Oh, thank you baby,” Jisung coos.
“I… I didn’t say anything, did I?”
You’re confused.
You did only think that, right?
Not that you’re denying anything but you don’t remember speaking even a syllable these past minutes. All that’s made it out of your mouth have been moans so far.
“Well… not out loud,” Jisung smirks. “I can still hear you.”
“You can read my mind,” you say. “You can read my mind?!”
He chuckles now.
“Demon powers, sorry. Should I turn it off?”
“No it’s…” something I touched myself to before, you want to say but cut off your words.
“Yeah, angel? It’s what?”
Angel.
Of course.
Han Jisung, you’re a fucking tease.
The brattiest demons of them all.
“I like it… yeah,” you admit.
“Me, too.”
Then you see his tie move on its own, basically levitating towards the bed. Right from the chair where it was just mere seconds ago.
Absolutely normal, sure.
The fabric is hovering over your head now, before it comes dangerously close to your wrists.
That’s when Jisung—despite seeing that absolutely eager look on your face—gets hit with second guesses.
“Are you okay with that? Or is it weird because–“
“No, I like that, too,” you confess.
“You like that?”
The smirk that appears over his face is letting heat rush towards your face.
“Maybe a little more than just liking.”
“Hm, I can tell,” he teases you.
“How? I didn’t think that.”
“Oh, solely by the way you’re squeezing your thighs together. I would have noticed that as well if I was a human.”
His tongue brushes over his teeth, one corner of his mouth rises up a little.
“You little–“
“Nah, you’re gonna be a good girl now, yeah?”
Oh, fuck.
“What if I’m not?”
The fabric floats closer to you, slowly wrapping around your wrists until your arms get thrown over your head. The tie turns into a knot, gluing you to the metallic headboard.
“Well, that would be a pity because only good girls are allowed to cum,” he warns.
That’s how you find yourself—all obediently—right back where you were a few minutes ago. Moaning, screaming, underneath him.
Jisung flicks his tongue over your clit, all whilst two of his fingers are dangerously close to your entrance, circling around it.
The tight piece of clothing around your hands stings a little, but you have to admit that you enjoy it even more because of the sensation. Despite that, you can’t think of anything right now anyway. Not when Jisung is finally pushing his two digits it, immediately feeling you clench around him.
He wonders what it will feel like to bury his cock inside you.
You’re wondering the same, or something similar, that’s why you call out his name.
“Sungie?”
“Hm?”
Jisung looks up from between your thighs, lips and chin covered in your arousal and feels you clench around his fingers when you notice. So, he starts moving them, still listening to your words.
“What did you think about when you… stole my panties?”
He chuckles, “Exactly this, to be honest. Have you squirming underneath me. Begging me for more. Absolutely helpless and eager.”
The thrusting motions continue, he scissors you open a little, before he adds a third finger. You let out another moan, nearly not catching what he says next.
“But I also thought about… how I would make love to you.”
There’s no possibility to respond or even think about his words when he shuts you up by curling those digits in an angle that makes him reach that certain spot inside you. When Jisung feels the effect he has on you, he brings his tongue right back on your clit, drawing circles around it.
“Sung– I–“
He nods, way too busy with his tongue, attacking your swollen bud even further. The thrusting movements pick up their pace and a few seconds later, you come undone, screaming his name for dear life, gripping the headboard.
Ecstasy takes over your whole body, possessing your complete mind and soul. Jisung helps you ride out your high, decreasing his speed when he feels you get even more sensitive from his touch. He pulls out of you and you watch him lick his fingers clean, wiping away your remaining liquids on his face.
“Jisung…”
He’d thought you’d be a little exhausted from that mindblowing orgasm, but it seems as if his powers are already taking over you again.
“Yeah, baby?”
You pull him closer, another passionate kiss follows as you taste yourself on his tongue.
“Need you…”
He chuckles once again, “What do you need, angel?”
You grunt. “Your cock inside me– please–“
So, he loosens the tie around your wrist and just manhandles you around in a ninety degree turn, flips you onto your stomach with little to no strength needed.
You see his underwear land on the chair across the bed and that’s when you notice something else right beside it. There must be a reason why Jisung opted for this position—he can watch your pretty face in the mirror while railing you into oblivion from behind.
“You ready, love?”
Love.
Jisung’s stroking his length, as you’re on all fours for him, giving access to your aching heat.
“It’s been some time… since I…” you tell him.
That’s when he slows down a little, softly brushing over your entrance with the tip of his cock.
“I’ll be gentle, yeah?”
Almost unbelievable, considering those words leave the mouth of a demon.
You hastily nod, before he pushes a few centimetres in. Your walls tighten around him in an instant, welcoming him in. His size is definitely above average but you’re not surprised. After all, you’ve watched him wear those grey sweatpants with definitely no boxers underneath before.
You’re not any better than him when it comes to watching and dreaming unholy thoughts about roommates.
“Sung– you’re so big–“ you let out.
“Shh, you can take it, baby.”
You nod and that’s when he finally bottoms you out. He starts moving with a painfully slow pace but you thank him for that, as he stretches you out carefully.
“Look in the mirror,” he orders. “I want you to watch how I fuck you, I want you to see what a slut you are for me.”
Oh, God. You’re already close again. That’s what his words do to you.
His cock is stroking your walls delightfully, as you follow his demand. Your nails are digging into the sheets, holding onto the fabric for dear life while Jisung fucks you senseless.
“You look so pretty, angel. Letting me do all the work while you’re being such a good slut for me, hm?”
“Hm…” you hum in agreement.
“Don’t need to think about anything, baby. Just let me take care of you, yeah? I know exactly what’s good for you.”
And so, you do.
Jisung picks up his pace, finding that spot inside you again when he changes his angle and adjusts your position a little. Two of fingers wander between your legs, as they start to rub your clit again like his tongue did earlier.
Mindless babble leaves your lips, your brain has shut off a long time ago.
Nothing matters anymore when he’s fucking you this good.
“Baby?” he suddenly calls out for you.
You want to reply but only a moan makes it past your lips, so you eagerly nod instead.
Jisung chuckles, “I’m going to make you cum all over my cock as if it’s the only thing you were made to do.”
It seems as if he can in fact control your mind—or you’re just dangerously close to your second climax because he’s taking such good care of you.
“Need to– close–“ you cry out.
Skin is slapping against skin. Squelching sounds are filling the room. Moans definitely make it past these four walls.
“No, baby, not until you beg for it like the good whore you are,” he tells you.
“Sungie, please, please, please–“
“You can do more than that, sweetheart,” Jisung adds, knowing he’s just as close as you are.
“Please– I need to cum– can I– please?”
“Okay, okay, angel, I’ve got you, yeah?”
Your vision gets filled with stars, as the feeling takes over you, sensation spreading through your veins. It triggers Jisung to reach his high as well and after you begged him for it, he paints your walls white, shooting his thick spurts of cum into your cunt.
Everything after that is a total blur. Jisung takes care of your fragile body, cleans you with a towel before he puts you into the bathrobe he finds hanging on the wall. He tells you to use the bathroom, before he helps you sit on the bed.
You’re definitely gonna be sore tomorrow.
Once you come to your senses again, you see the brightest smile on Jisung’s face.
However, he said that that Minho guy told him the portal will open on its own when you’re authentic enough.
But there's still no portal.
How is getting your brains fucked out not authentic enough?
Well, considering the odds aren’t in your favour and your life will change forever tomorrow, become a disaster you’re caught in without Jisung, the person you love the most, you might as well just tell him the whole truth, right?
You don’t care if he doesn’t love you back.
But he’s been so honest to you about his hidden identity, felt so comfortable to share it—so you should reveal your secret too, right?
There’s never been an actual reason to not be your true self around him.
It’s okay to be different as long as we can be different together with the people we adore the most.
So, without any useless introduction, you just tell him.
“I am in love with you, Han Jisung.”
His eyes widen. Then his mouth falls agape.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Say that again.”
You smirk, “I am in love with you, you weirdo.”
He startles you a little when his lips collide with yours, sealing them in the most heartwarming kiss you’ve ever received.
Then he pulls away.
“I am in love with you too, Y/L/N Y/L.”
A shining light blinds your vision, enlightens the whole room.
There’s a portal next to you. Just appearing there out of nowhere.
You chuckle. It makes sense now.
You’ve never had to prove your love to anyone else.
True love only has to be proven to the person that’s receiving it. Over and over again.
By caring for each other.
By looking out for each other.
By being there for each other in the darkest times.
By trusting each other no matter what.
But most importantly—by showing with words what we feel.
Because when we speak things out loud, that’s when they turn into reality.
🤍 AUTHOR'S NOTE: thank you so much for reading! I was pretty terrified to upload this since it's a little darker and I have never posted something alien au lmao but it was so much fun writing. I'm very happy I continued this story despite my insecurities. I hope, you enjoyed it too. If that's the case I'd be very grateful for any kind comments and reblogs you leave. Always rember that these are the number one motivation for us authors and likes mean nothing on tumblr considering its algorithm. Thank you for considering it and have a nice day :)
© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited
may we all bloom
I kindly ask for your support to ease my suffering and help me achieve my delayed dreams❤🙏🏻
Hello, I am Kenzi, 17 years old. I once carried big dreams and saw a bright future ahead of me, but the war has taken everything from me. This year was pivotal in my life—my final school year, after which I was supposed to enter university and fulfill my dream of becoming a doctor.
Now, those dreams seem distant, like a mirage, and hope fades with each passing day. Yet, despite everything, I still try to hold on to a glimmer of hope, believing that the end of this suffering will come one day, and I will find my way again toward achieving my dream
Help me restore my life, achieve my goal, and save the rest of my family
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Another Love | part 1
Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.
Words count: 8,539
Warnings for this part: lots of angst, drunk people, drunk Han is petty asf
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
A/N: So I made that pool asking if I should post this fic in chapters or a 20,000+ words chapter and the long ass chapter won but at the time my mind told me I would be able to finish the whole fic before posting it... Jokes on me I need validation and feedback for me to write so yeah let's do this in chapters, sorry
A/N2: I had this idea for quite some time now but got suddenly inspired listening to the song another love.
You're done. Really, you can't take it anymore. You've known Han Jisung since elementary school, you have been basically joined at the hip since then, your parents even became best friends because of you two.
You don't know exactly when you fell in love with him, was it on your second day at school when he invited you to play with him because he noticed you were all alone? Was it when someone made an awkward joke about your messed up hair cut in second grade and he picked a fight with them? Maybe it was the very first moment you laid eyes on him, joking around with everyone and being the most popular kid in the classroom. You really can't remember, but the thing you're sure of is: Han Jisung doesn't like you back.
You've always known that, but inside you there was a tiny bit of hope that one day he would wake up and suddenly love you back.
That didn't happen though. You are now 23 and he has never ever shown the smallest amount of romantic interest in you.
"That's fine", you thought to yourself, ever since you realized your feelings for him, "I'm going to stay with him his entire life, that doesn't sound so bad"
Until it started to sound really bad. What are you gonna do? See him getting a girlfriend, then getting engaged and eventually married? Would you always be there on the sidelines listening to his lovesick whines about the woman he loves so much? Would you be the godmother to his children? By then, would you have gotten over him already? Or would you keep this up forever, marrying someone just because you can't stay alone and being in love with your best friend for the rest of your life? That was the moment you knew you had to stop, you can't keep this up.
Coincidentally Han broke up with his last girlfriend a few months ago, you thought that would be a good opportunity for you to be his rebound, yeah, pretty dignified of you.
So you dress up really pretty, hair up, a dress that always made Han compliment you and to finish it off—the necklace he gave you on your 12th birthday.
You think this is it, this is the day you're going to tell him how much you love him and maybe, just maybe he will contemplate giving you a chance.
When he arrives at your shared apartment, with two cans of beer and fried chicken, you give him a cheerful greeting, setting the table and trying to gather courage to speak.
"So, how was practice?", you begin, maybe some small talk will help you relax.
"It was good, we are almost done with the album", he says, typing something on his phone. "How was your day?", he asks, putting the device on the table and looking at you.
"Good, I had class in the morning and tutoring in the afternoon", you take a sip of your beer, "one of the mothers actually recommended me to other parents and I'm gonna start tutoring more students next week"
He smiles, "that's good, you're really smart"
You blush, bringing the back of your hands to your face to try and lessen the hot skin of your cheeks with the cold of your hands.
"Actually, I want to talk to you", you start, it's now or never.
"Sure-", Jisung stops mid sentence when his phone buzzes. "Just a minute", he looks at the screen and smiles, your heart sinks at the sight. You know that smile too well, you have seen it dozens of times. You feel your insides turning over. It's the smile meant only for the person he likes.
"Hey, Lia. Yeah, totally, I can talk right now", he picks up the call and once again asks you for a minute lifting his index finger, he walks towards the balcony and closes the glass door after going through it.
He's laughing about something, is she even that funny or is he just trying to win her favor? She's pretty, you know it. All of his girlfriends looked like models. You sigh, looking at yourself and feeling awful, suddenly you don't feel pretty anymore, you actually feel ridiculous.
Why did you think things would change just because you got brave enough to speak up? Jisung sees you as a best friend and nothing more, you have to come to terms with that.
Your mind is rushing, thinking about what you're going to do now? Can you keep being friends with him? Yeah, of course, he's your best friend, you won't end your friendship because you can't control your feelings. But you'll need time, right? You won't be able to get over this unrequited love if you keep seeing him everyday, doing everything with him and sleeping in the same house.
"So, what do you want to talk about?", he asks, sitting again. You didn't even notice he had come back inside.
You sigh, you'll tell him about it all and then you'll find the strength in you to move on.
"I like you", you say so low you're not sure he heard you. But he did, he smiles and chuckles.
"I like you too, we're best friends for a reason", he stretches his arm to take a fried chicken.
"No, I like like you", you admit, hugging yourself, feeling cold suddenly, you look around and see Han left the door to the balcony open. "I've been in love with you since I can remember", you complete.
The look on his face would be funny if it wasn't tragic, his brows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes have a very familiar look: fear. Of course, he's afraid of losing his best friend, you already guessed that much.
"Y/N I-", you notice his breathing quickening. "I'm sorry, I never knew", he says, shoulders slumping, his arms dropping to the side of his body.
"Yeah, I know you didn't", you say. He's still staring at you with so much hurt in his eyes. Jisung knows he will have to turn you down and it's going to hurt him a lot, but not as much as it will hurt you and he never ever wanted to hurt you.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say", he takes a deep breath, "I never thought about you in that way, I'm really sorry, I don't feel the same"
You're not going to cry, you decided that the moment you saw fear in his eyes. It's not his fault you like him, he can't fall in love with you just because you love him. You're not going to cry and make him feel worse than you can tell he's already feeling. But listening to those words it's worse than you could have expected, you feel like the world is crumbling around you.
"I know you don't", you smile sadly.
He looks more confused now.
"Then, why did you tell me?"
"It's just… I'm done with all this", you reply, getting up from your chair.
"Done with our friendship?" Han can feel all the air leaving his body while he waits for your answer.
You chuckle, fidgeting with your foot.
"No, I don't think I could ever be done with that", you smile trying to reassure him and he feels so relieved. "I can't keep doing this, I can't continue seeing you with other people and stay hurting alone"
"I can stop bringing people to the apartment and I'll never talk about them around you", he says trying to help and your stomach sinks a lot more. Why does he have to be so sweet?
"Actually, I'll need some time", you clear your throat, "I think I'm going to stay with Seungmin for the time being, he is looking for a roommate"
Han's eyes widen and he gets up, walking towards you.
"What are you talking about? Are you going to move out?"
"It's not something definitive, I'm going to stay there until he finds a new roommate and come back after that", you take a step back, noticing how close he is to you. "Luckily by then I'll be over you, I think I just need some personal space for now, where you're not there everytime I look, or your things aren't mixed with mine or your scent isn't around every room"
"Will you still speak to me?", he asks, he wants to hug you, to hold you in his arms and say how sorry he is for not feeling the same. But he knows he can't, the best thing he can do is to keep his distance from you right now.
"I think we should keep it restricted to apartment things for now, I'll keep paying my half of the rent since my things will still be here"
"You don't have to pay if you're not here"
Ever since Jisung started making good money he insisted that you didn't have to pay for rent since you only work part time as a tutor to pay for your living expenses but you always refused. Even though he earns a lot more than you it wouldn't be fair for him to be the only one paying and honestly, you felt that if he was the only one paying for it, you would feel too much like you were a couple.
"No, I'll pay you. This arrangement doesn't change the fact that we still share the apartment"
He nods, looking down, the awkward silence making you sick.
"I'm really sorry I hurt you", he whispers and all the crying you avoided over this whole conversation threatens to come out at that exact moment.
"It's not your fault", you say, "I'm sorry I made things awkward, just give me some time and we'll be back to how things were, okay?", you give him a reassuring smile even though you're not sure things will ever go back to the way it was.
You wake up feeling like shit, you cried your eyes out the moment you stepped into Seungmin's apartment. He was so sweet to you, staying awake until you calmed down and even offered you his room for you to sleep but you refused. He was already doing you a favor by letting you stay on his couch until he found a roommate.
You sit, stretching yourself, you slept pretty comfortably but all the stress from last night left your muscles sore.
"Are you feeling better?", you hear Seungmin's voice and look at the kitchen, he's making coffee. That reminds you of all the days you woke Han up with a nice and hot coffee so he wouldn't be in a bad mood waking up so early.
"I don't think so", you answer, shaking your head like that would make your thoughts disappear. "Can you get me some of that?", you ask and he smiles.
"Already on it", you start tidying up the blanket and the pillow you used.
"What are you going to do today?", Seungmin asks while you sit at the table.
"I have some tutoring to do and class in the afternoon, maybe I'll go shopping with Hannah later"
"That's good, try to keep yourself entertained at least for the next couple of days", he hands you the mug and you nod.
All your friends knew about your crush on Han and you made all of them swear they wouldn't tell him. You were afraid things would be awkward now, since Han was their friend before you met them, but they all showed you support now that you had confessed.
Hannah had offered you to stay with her, but she has a roommate that's really strict about everything in their apartment and you don't want to cause trouble to your friend by staying there. Luckily Seungmin's last roommate had moved a couple of weeks ago and he was looking for someone new, but by the way he's picky that's not going to happen so soon.
"Since I'll be staying here and you won't accept money because I won't be using a room, the groceries will be on me and I won't accept no for an answer", you say finishing your coffee and getting up. Seungmin sighs, rolling his eyes.
"I know you're going to buy it anyway, so I'll accept it"
"Then send me a list of whatever you need and I'll buy it tonight or tomorrow", you blow him a kiss, picking your bag from the floor and heading to the bathroom.
You take a long, hot, refreshing shower and pick some comfortable clothes to go to your tutoring session.
Seungmin's already gone when you go back to the kitchen, there's a message from him on your phone.
Minnie: I left some sliced fruit in the fridge for you, eat before going out.
Minnie: I'll send you the list later btw
You smile, having someone taking care of you is nice. For a second, it makes you forget the reason why you're there to begin with.
You feel like crying again, but you can't show up to your students house with red eyes and a puffy face.
The parents that are near each other usually ask you to teach their children together in longer sessions. That strengthens the bond the kids have while strengthening the connection between the families. That usually happens when the families are wealthy, they see an opportunity in their children's friendship to get on each other's good side.
Your parents started hanging out with Jisung's parents too, not because of connections but because you two were always in each other's houses. Once, you broke your arm falling from a tree you tried to climb following Han, his mother had to call yours and calm her down on the phone the entire time your mother was driving to the hospital to meet you. That day you got scolded by both and after they finished the lecture they looked at each other and smiled, bonding over the fear of something happening to their precious child.
When they went out to buy some coffee and talk, Jisung sat by the side of your hospital bed, lips pouting and tearing up.
"I'm sorry I dared you to follow me all the way up there", he says, taking the hand of your good arm and holding it.
"It's okay, now at least I have an exciting story to tell the others", you say and he smiles, whipping his eyes.
The noise of the gate opening wakes you up from your daydream, you have to stop thinking about Han if you want to get over him.
The kids come running in your direction the moment the housekeeper opens the door.
"Miss Y/N, look I got a 9.5 on my test", the girl smiles brightly showing you the paper with the grade marked in red.
"Woah, Misu, you're so smart, I don't think you even need me anymore", you bend to her height and she pouts, sometimes she acts like a little child when she's already 12.
"Of course I need you, you're the prettiest and smartest person I know", she says and you hear someone clear their throats by the stairs. It's Misu's mother.
"If I didn't agree with her I'd be hurt", she says and you smile.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kim, I only helped a little, Misu's really smart", you say and the girl shows you her white teeth, looking at her mother and waiting for some praise.
"Of course she is", she pats the girl's head. "Eun, aren't you going to say hi to Y/N?"
The boy is a few months younger than Misu but a lot more shy. You saw him coming with her when you arrived but got so engrossed in your conversation that forgot he was there in silence.
"Hello, miss Y/N", he says, polite as ever.
"Hi, Eun, did you get a good grade like Misu?"
He nods, showing you his test with 9.8 marked in red.
"He's smarter than me", Misu pouts.
"Congratulations, Eun", you say, patting his head, making him blush and you smile. "I think you are both really smart and I'm here to help you get even smarter"
Mrs. Kim tells you to go ahead and start the lesson and invites you to stay for lunch. You were pretty lucky with the parents you met till now, all of them were nice to you and cared a great deal about their children so it's a lighthearted job to do.
The kids are indeed smart, usually you don't have to explain the same thing more than twice and they always ask a lot of questions during your time with them.
A week goes by since you last saw Jisung, fortunately he didn't try contacting you. You're sure that if he did you'd break hearing his voice and would beg for him to like you back, giving up on any pride you still have left.
You arrive at school an hour before your classes begin, you're meeting Hannah at the cafe nearby so you can talk a bit.
You look at your phone, there's a message from her saying she's on the bus but the traffic is awful so she might be a little bit late.
You choose a table by the window, contemplating if you should order already or wait till Hannah arrives.
Looking outside, you remember the moment you heard the news that you got into this university. Yours and Jisung's family were at your parents house, you both were seated on the couch when you received the message saying the college entrance results came out. You couldn't type your information, you were trembling so much Han had to do it for you.
When you read your name and the word "accepted" you actually screamed, making your mother drop the plate she had in hands. Your father and Han's came running to see what happened when Jisung showed them the screen.
Your mother and father embraced you, telling how proud they were of you and Jisung's parents did the same, like you were their own daughter.
Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you and making you burst out laughing. That moment was so good, you wanted to stay there forever.
"Earth to Y/N", you hear Hanna's voice and snap out of your thoughts, sighing. "Is everything okay?", she asks, worried.
"Yeah, I'm good", you say and she narrows her eyes, knowing you are not telling the truth.
Hannah left it at that though, you are going through a hard time and she doesn't want to push it.
Honestly, she don't expect you to be fine. Your lifelong crush had rejected you and to make things worse he is your best friend, so yeah, of course you are not okay.
"Then, I'm going to order", she drops her bag in the seat in front of you, "your usual?"
You nod, seeing her walk to the cashier. You met Hannah three years ago, when you started college. She's the total opposite of you, really outgoing and a total social butterfly, it seems those are the people you attract seeing how Han is the same.
She sat by your side on the first day, making a random joke and making you laugh, that's how she became your best friend. You didn't even have to tell her about your one sided love, she had to see only one interaction between you and Jisung to know exactly what was going on.
She is the one that urged you to tell him about your feelings and was very adamant about you moving on from him, she couldn't let you waste all your 20's being in love with someone that didn't like you back… or not the way you wanted to.
"So, I heard about a party", Hannah says, putting the pager on the table and sitting in front of you.
"There's like a hundred of those, you have to be more specific", you joke and she rolls her eyes.
"You know that guy from English literature? The one that dyed his hair pink last semester?"
"Yeah, it's kinda hard to forget about him", you laugh.
When Yunho came to school with pink hair a rumor of him becoming an idol started going around, everyone tried to be nice to him and all that shit but it turned out he just lost a bet.
"He's hosting this party in like a really big fancy place to celebrate his graduation", she finishes.
"That's nice", you say, fidgeting with your fingers under the table.
"Hmmm, are we going to go or what?", she asks and you glance at her.
"Were we invited?"
"Ahm, you're hot and I'm hot, why wouldn't we be invited?"
You laugh, knowing what she's doing. Hannah is more sensible than you give her credit for, you really thought she would ask about everything that happened on that night, but instead she has been trying to distract you for the past week and that is really nice of her.
She smiles, seeing you smile. Hannah knows you never give enough credit to yourself, you never think you're pretty enough, funny enough, cool enough or smart enough even though you're those things and much more. She approached you on your first day because there's just something about you, something bright and cheerful. When people are upset, mad or sad you always do your best to make them feel better, so Hannah felt this was her time to cheer you up.
The pager buzzes on the table and she gets up, going to the counter to get your orders.
You look at her coming back with a big grin in her lips, handing you the coffee with a note glued to the cup sleeve.
"To the girl with the yellow cardigan, I see you coming here often and I think you're cute, maybe we can hangout sometime? If you're up to it, text me: xxx xxxx-xxxx"
You blush, looking at the counter and seeing the cutest guy looking at you with flushed cheeks. He's so red you can see it from where you're seated. He smiles waving at you and you wave back.
Hannah has one eyebrow lifted looking at your interaction and you feel your cheeks even hotter.
"So, are you going to text him?", she asks, reading the note and you sigh.
"I don't think so", you say, sipping at your coffee.
"Why not?"
"I don't think it would be fair to someone if I start something with them when I'm still in love with someone else", you answer and Hannah sighs.
"Yeah, you have a point", she pouts, "but like, maybe messing around a little won't hurt? I mean, he's not in love with you or anything, you can talk with each other and see where things go"
Hannah's right and you know it. Even though it's still too soon, you should try meeting new people, you're not going to get over Han just by staying away from him.
This feelings, you have it with you for so long, it's hard to let it go. Loving Han is the only romantic feeling you have ever known, it's scary to walk off of this thing you know so well to something completely new.
You have to, though. It's the only way for your friendship to keep existing. So you nod to Hannah, taking your phone out of your pocket and dialing the number written on the cup, seconds later you're typing a message.
You: Hey, it's the girl in the yellow cardigan, my name is Y/N btw
You send and hear a ping, you thought he would have his phone on silent mode and sudden embarrassment creeps up when you see him taking his phone out of the pocket of his apron.
Cute guy: Hey, I was afraid of making you uncomfortable, so let me apologize first. I just didn't know how to approach you
Cute guy: Ah, and I'm Heeseung
You change the name in his contact before replying.
You: it didn't make me uncomfortable and thank you for calling me cute.
Heeseung: you don't have to thank me for telling the truth.
You giggle, it's interesting to feel like this, even though you can tell it's something temporary.
You: lol, you're really smooth.
"Let's go?", Hannah says, smirking at you and you blush. You nod, picking your things up and getting up from the table, you wave goodbye to Heeseung before going out and he smiles brightly at you.
>><<
The morning after you went away, Han woke up feeling awful, all the things that happened the previous night coming back at him at the same time. He was sure the moment you walked out of the door, giving him your best smile and trying not to cry was the saddest he ever felt in his entire life. You were his best friend, you were everything to him, he felt like shit because he never noticed your feelings. He doesn't know what he would have done if he knew, but maybe he could have been better, talking less about his relationships and especially not bringing his hook ups to the apartment.
He got up, feeling like crying everytime he had to pass by your bedroom door, knowing you were not there and wouldn't be for far too long, all because of him. The bell rings and he runs to the door, hoping it's you, hoping you'll tell him everything was a joke and that you didn't actually like him. Even though he knows you wouldn't press the doorbell since you know the password and he knows the hurt in your eyes when he said he didn't feel the same as you was no joke.
So it was no surprise when he opened the door and found Chan and Changbin there. They did tell him they were going to stop by in the morning to pick him up but with all the things that happened he just forgot about it.
"Are you okay? You look like shit", Changbin says entering the house.
Chan looks at Han, worried.
"Are you sick?", he asks, "where's Y/N?" He knows you wouldn't leave Han alone if he were sick, but you would have shown up already by hearing Changbin's loud voice.
"She's gone", Han says, running his hands through his hair.
"What do you mean?", Chan asks with wide eyes.
"She- she confessed to me and I turned her down", he says, maybe he should have told you he could like you back, that way he wouldn't be feeling this way and you'd still be there with him.
"Shit", Changbin says, his lips pressed in a thin line.
Han looks at the both of them, why don't they look surprised?
"You guys knew about it?" He asks, a little louder than his usual voice and the boys exchange a look. "Woah, thanks for the heads up"
He shouldn't be mad at them, it's not their fault, but he's already too mad at himself so he doesn't know where else to put the blame.
"It was not our place to tell you", Chan says.
"Does everyone know?", Han asks and Changbin nods, "so I was the only one? Am I dumb or something?"
Chan sighs, "it's not really your fault for not knowing, you probably are used to the way Y/N looks and talks to you because you're best friends since you were children, but to the people outside it is pretty clear from the get go that she likes you"
"But where did she go? Are you not friends anymore?", Changbin asks the difficult questions and Chan glares at him.
"She said she will be staying with Seungmin till he finds a roommate and then she's going to come back"
"She probably just needs some time", Chan says, putting a hand on Han's shoulder trying to reassure him, and he really hopes that's the case.
>><<
You've been texting Heeseung for a few days now and he's pretty nice, he's a dance major and works part time at the cafe to pay for living expenses the same as you do with tutoring.
Hannah had convinced you to go to Yunho's party and get wasted, saying you need the college life experience the most now that you had your first heartbreak but you don't want to think about that, you want to forget that you ever loved Han Jisung.
So you drink a whole bottle of wine before leaving for the party, Seungmin's coming with you and Hannah will meet you there. You are looking good, or maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel good, your hair is down, you're wearing a black lace cropped top you borrowed from Hannah, with a much lower neckline than you are used to, high waisted jeans and black boots.
The party is already crowded when you and Seungmin get there and it's really a fancy place like Hannah told you.
"Let's grab a drink", you yell to Seungmin.
"You should drink water, you're already drunk", he demands and you show your tongue to him.
"Nooooo, don't be a killjoy"
He sighs, it's hard to convince you of something when you're sober, it's even harder when you're drunk.
"You can have a drink after you drink a cup of water", he tells you and you nod, sounds like a win win for you.
After drinking a whole cup of water you show it to him, waiting for a praise and Seungmin rolls his eyes. What are you, a 10 year old?
"Good job, now you can drink", he gives you a cup with something mixed in it, "but you have to drink some water for each drink you take, okay?"
"Okay, dad", you joke, sipping your drink.
Seungmin knows a lot of people at the party and you feel left out every time someone approaches him so you're really happy when Hannah shows up, with a much taller boy accompanying her.
"Look who I found", she says pointing at him.
"Heeseung?", you scream, startling Seungmin who's close to you.
"Jesus, Y/N, calm down", he says putting his hand over his ear, "I'm a singer, I can't lose my hearing", he says and you pout, whining an apology even though you know he's not really mad.
"I didn't know you were gonna be here", Heeseung gets closer to you, side eyeing Seungmin.
"I didn't want to come, Hannah made me", you tell him, "this is Seungmin, he's my friend"
He nods at the boy by your side, relaxing to hear you call Seungmin a friend.
"Hey, Minnie, let's go dance?", Hannah says and Seungmin narrows his eyes suspiciously.
"I don't dance", he answers, crossing his arms and she sighs.
"For fucking sake, just come with me", she says and Seungmin follows her without more questions, he knows too well not to mess with her when she gets angry.
"You look really pretty", Heeseung says, bending a little to lessen the difference in your height. You blush even though it's not as good hearing him saying that as it was when Han complimented you, but you're trying to get over that, aren't you?
"Thanks, you look hot too", you hiccup, you don't have a filter when you're drunk. He smiles, turning around on the table and pouring you a cup of water.
"Drink this, it's going to help", he hands it to you.
"Thank you, you're so sweet and handsome", you yell again but he doesn't flinch like Seungmin did.
"You can't keep saying these kinds of things and not want me to kiss you", he says and you smile, sly.
"Who says I don't want that?", the moment he comprehends what you just said his face reddens, and he thought he was being bold.
"Once you sober up we can talk about that", he tells you and you pout. You wanted to kiss him now, maybe if you did all the hurt you were feeling would go away. Maybe you just needed someone to make you forget about Jisung.
"But I want it now", you cross your arms, behaving like a child that didn't get their way.
"Do you like dancing?", he changes the subject. Your face brightens with his question.
"I LOVE dancing", you show him the choreography to queencard that's playing on the dance floor and he laughs at your messy steps, he's sure you're much better at it while sober.
"Then drink this and let's dance", he hands you another cup of water.
"Seungmin told me I could have a drink after a cup of water, but this makes two cups of water and no drink", you point out and Heeseung can't help but find the drunk you really cute.
"This water will help you so you won't have a bad hangover tomorrow", he says and you nod, that's a good point.
Super by seventeen starts playing and you finish downing the water, grabbing Heeseung's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.
Being a dance major, of course he knows the steps and he's so good there are moments you just stop and watch him in a daze. Actually, he knows the steps to every song playing after that too, you dance so much you're all sweaty and your legs are tired. You're totally sober now, feeling ecstatic. It's so good being at a party having so much fun.
You're jumping and smiling until you see him.
You stop in your tracks seeing Han Jisung staring at you from the other side of the dance floor, your smile fades away as soon as your eyes lock with his.
He looks sick, he lost a lot of weight considering the short period of time you haven't seen each other and he wasn't smiling like he always did. He takes a step in your direction and you automatically step away, your stomach sinking.
You're feeling your heart beat so fast it's overlapping with the loud music, you gulp feeling your legs weaken, why the hell are you having this reaction? He's the same Han Jisung you've known since you were a child, the only difference now is that he knows how you feel about him.
You can't avoid him until you get over your feelings, that won't work and you know it, you have to get used to being near him feeling nothing other than friendship, but you can't see him at that moment, you just can't. You're having fun, there's a handsome guy with you and you want to like him and not Jisung.
You grab Heeseung's hand and pull him away from the dance floor, walking outside so you can breathe some fresh air.
"Did something happen?", he asks, looking confused and worried.
"It just felt stiff in there for a moment", you say and he nods.
You didn't want to explain to him why you were not speaking to your best friend and how messed up your relationship with Han is right now. You want to forget about it and your way of doing it is right by your side, handsome and available.
"So, about that thing you said we could do once I sobered up… I'm sober now", you say and he blushes, analyzing you for a moment to see if you are telling the truth.
The last drink you took was more than an hour ago and you drank so much water after that, it's a miracle you still don't have to use the toilet.
"I don't want to do something you'll regret later", he says and you appreciate how considerate he is. But right now you don't want someone considerate, you want someone that'll sweep you off your feet and help you forget what you so desperately want to. So you get closer, caging him against the wall and tiptoeing, trying to get closer to his face.
"If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you're holding back because you think I'm drunk, I'm not", that was his cue to kiss you. His lips crashing sloppily onto yours, hands cupping your face then moving down to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck trying to get closer than you already are. He's good, you've kissed enough people in your life to know that, yet you feel sick.
You feel bad and like a horrible person because you just know he can't compare to Jisung even though you never kissed your best friend.
You feel bad thinking about someone else while kissing Heeseung, he's so nice and sweet and you know he's not fooling around, if you give him the chance he's going to truly like you and you're only using him.
You step away sighing, seeing his brows furrowed and the confusion in his eyes.
"Was it that bad?", he jokes but you can see he's feeling hurt. "I'm not trying to brag, but I never got a reaction like that after a kiss"
You smile apologetically, looking for words to explain yourself.
"It was great and you're great", you begin, "I think you're too sweet, that's why I can't lead you on"
"What are you talking about?" he asks, even more confused.
"I'm in love with someone else and I know it sounds awful, I did try to get over him with you but I feel like you'll really like me if we don't stop right now and I'm not sure if I'll be able to be that person for you", you look at him, seeing the disappointment in his face. "I'm sorry, I'm a terrible person and you can hate me if you want"
He stares at you for a few moments, sighing and giving you a reassuring smile after.
"I don't think you're terrible, I think you're truly brave for coming clean like that", you're relieved, you were afraid he would say something mean and even though you feel like you deserve it, you're really fragile right now. "Thank you for telling me before I got too deep into this and I don't know, maybe we can be friends?"
"Absolutely, I would love that"
"So, do you want to go back inside?", he asks and you shake your head.
"I don't think so, I should probably go home", you say, you don't want to go back there to see Han again.
"Do you want me to take you home?"
"It's okay, I'm going to text Seungmin and see where he's at but you can go inside, I'm going to stay here and get some more fresh air"
"Alright, I'll see you at the cafe"
You nod, seeing him walk away. Woah, you just let that masterpiece of a man go because you can't forget about a fucking unrequited love. You curse yourself, slapping your forehead.
After that, you text Seungmin telling where you are and asking where the hell he and Hannah went, sending the same message to her and waiting for their answer.
You sit on the grass, taking a deep breath. You feel a bit sick after seeing Jisung, you never thought you'd feel that way. Never in your worst nightmares did you think you would be afraid to talk to him, maybe you're scared of talking to him and feeling nothing, what if all of this was just in your head and you just needed some time apart to figure it out?
You hear steps close to you and pray it's not some horny couple trying to fuck near you, however, the moment you lay eyes on your best friend you actually wish it was a horny couple.
You get up in a jump, your stomach sinking and your head spinning. Why does it hurt so much suddenly? It feels like your chest is being torn apart and you can't do a thing to make it better.
Jisung looks worse up close, he has huge bags under his eyes and he's too pale.
You're worried about him, even though you can't have the luxury of that. Not when your insides are all messed up and you want to throw up. You walk past him without saying a word, you can't handle this right now, but he grabs your wrist holding you in place. You don't look at him, staring at the floor trying to get out of his grip.
"I miss you", he says and your heart drops to your stomach. Why is he doing this to you? It's not like being apart from your best friend is fun to you. "Can't you look at me?", he pleads but you can't find the courage to do that yet. "Please", but he sounds so desperate, you force yourself to do it.
You look at him, he's obviously drunk. Who the hell let him drink this much?
"What is it?", you sound more spiteful than you were planning and his eyes widen, releasing your arm from his grasp.
"Do you hate me now?", he asks and you sigh.
"Of course I don't hate you, you're my best friend", you say that but for some reason it doesn't feel right, it doesn't sound like the truth.
"Can't you come back home? I feel like shit everytime I wake up and you're not there"
"I told you I need time", you say, running your hands through your hair.
"Are you going to forget about me by fucking some random dude?", he asks and you glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"I don't understand how that's any of your business"
"It is, because you told me you love me but you act like you never want to see my face again", he scoffs.
You feel mad, what's he trying to say? Should you keep hurting just because you love him?
"I can't sit around forever, waiting for you to look at me", you say and he steps closer to you.
"I'm looking at you right now, I- I'll be good to you, I'll like you back", the moment he finishes saying that, you can't control the tears running through your eyes.
Is that supposed to be good? He would be forced to date you so he could have you close to him?
"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask and he takes a step back startled with you tears, suddenly sobering up, "it's not easy for me to be away from you, you're my best friend, but I do have some bit of dignity left in me and I won't accept less than I deserve, even if that less is the man I love with me", you wipe your tears seeing him step closer, trying to reach your hand and you step away, "don't come close to me right now, I could never stay with you knowing you don't love me, you should know that"
You turn around trying to get away from him but stop on your tracks seeing Hannah, Seungmin, Chan and Changbin right there looking at you awkwardly. Of course, the humiliation is the cherry on the top. You pass through them feeling so embarrassed you want the earth to swallow you.
The ride home is awkward and silent. Hannah and Seungmin keep exchanging looks while you look out the window trying to figure how your life became this mess.
You really should have dated Jeongho when he asked you out in middle school, it was around that time that you realized you liked Han more than just a friend—when Haneul asked to be his date to the school festival and you wanted to punch her so hard. Maybe if you had dated that boy at that time you would have forgotten the feelings you had for your friend, maybe you would have brushed it off as some childhood crush, but no, you rejected Jeongho while Han went with Haneul to the school festival and you third wheeled the whole event earning nasty glances from her every time your best friend played two times the same game so he could win you a plush too.
Back then you still thought everything would be okay, if only you had him everything would be okay.
You start bawling without notice, crying so much you can't even breathe. Seungmin stops the car and Hannah gets to the back, hugging you and caressing your hair while whispering that everything will be fine and you really want to believe her.
You don't know how you got into Seungmin's apartment, you guess he carried you inside after dropping Hannah home but you're not sure. It's sunday so he's not up yet for you to ask and it doesn't actually matter, what matters is the absolutely pathetic scene you made at the party and in the car. You want to bury yourself into a hole and never come back, how the hell are you going to face your friends after they saw you being humiliated by Han like that?
You know he was drunk, of course he was. You know he didn't mean it, he was hurt and drunk and people act on feelings not reason when they are like that. But does he think you have no pride? Does he really think you would date him knowing he doesn't like you back?
It's different when you confessed to him, you knew he didn't like you that way. But if he told you that there was something there, that he was not going to promise you anything but someday he may like you back, that's all you needed to hear. However, that didn't happen. He told you with all the words that he doesn't like that way, that he doesn't feel the same way as you do, there was no room for interpretation, no room for what if's.
You get up, in need to distract yourself. This week is going to fly by, you have tutoring lessons using up all your free time so you just have to get through the day.
There are a lot of messages on your phone, you really don't want to read them because you know that other than Hannah's, it's awkward comforting words from your other friends.
Hannah: call me when you wake up
Hannah: let's go eat something delicious, what do you think? It's on me.
Hannah: are you still not up or are you ignoring me?
You: I just woke up, calm down girl
You: why would I ignore you though? I just have to brush my teeth and eat something then I'll call you.
Binnie: morning babes
Binnie: Hannie is such an asshole
Binnie: I'll date you if you want, you're hot it's a win win for me
You chuckle to Changbin texts, he's so sweet in the weirdest way.
You: I mean, you're hot too
You: I think we'd make an awesome couple
Chan: good morning, Y/N
Chan: we didn't hear anything last night, so please, don't be awkward or embarrassed around us.
You: good morning Channie, I know you heard
You: you should have matched your story with Changbin before texting me though
You: it's okay, alright? Of course I'll be embarrassed for the time being, but we're friends I won't be embarrassed forever.
You leave your phone on the couch and go to the bathroom. You look like shit, smeared makeup, hair disgusting and you're still wearing the same clothes. You turn on the hot water, taking your clothes off and entering the shower, the warmth embracing you as you feel more relaxed.
You put on something comfortable, it's Sunday, you're going to ask Hannah to come by and you're going to order takeout.
You call her number while eating because you know she's anxious.
"Hey babes, good morning", she picks up, cheerful as always.
"Good morning", you say, biting the toast you just made.
"So, what about going out and eating something really good?", she asks.
"Hm, I'm actually not in the mood to go out? Can't you come by, we order something and watch that movie you've been bugging me for the last month?"
"Yeah, sure. We can do that", she answers and you are happy she doesn't sound upset or disappointed. With all the shit you're pulling lately you're scared your friends are going to get tired of your bullshit and stop talking to you. You used to think no one wanted a friend that's always crying and whining, but they showed you that real friends help each other.
"So what time are you gonna come?"
"I will just take a shower and wait for the bus, so in maybe like an hour?", she guesses and you nod forgetting she can't see you.
"Okay, see you then"
You decide to clean the house while waiting, Seungmin is pretty organized and clean so there's nothing too difficult. You'll just wash the dishes and vacuum a little.
Hannah arrives later than she predicted, Seungmin is already up and cleaning his room. He scolded you because it's his day to do the dishes and you shouldn't have done it because it's not fair to you.
You think he's being extra nice to you because of what happened the night before and it's true, he was really scared when you cried in his car.
He has known you for almost five years and he never saw you cry like that, even on the night you came to his house after confessing to Han you didn't cry like that. This time was different, you had a soul crushing cry, he wanted to stop the car and go to the back to hug you the same as Hannah, but he knew you were already being comforted by the perfect person.
Han is his friend, he could never choose between you two. But he couldn't deny it, that was a dick move, how could he ever say that to someone that likes him? He basically told you that he could pretend to like you if you stayed with him.
And of course, Seungmin understands the fear of losing a friend, but doing what he did just increases the chances of you never wanting to see his face again.
You are seated on the couch, watching the movie Hannah is obsessed with at the moment. She already watched it five times alone and asks anyone she can find to watch it again with her, she even repeats some sentences together with the characters.
The pizza you ordered is almost gone, you didn't know you were so hungry until the smell hit your nose. Luckily or thanks to Seungmin and Heeseung, your hangover is not that bad and you want it to stay that way so you keep drinking lots of water.
You got through the day thanks to your friends, they kept you entertained the whole time so you wouldn't overthink or even think about Han.
You are doing that just now, looking at the ceiling in the dark room. You want it all to be a dream, maybe you would wake up tomorrow and still be in middle school, you'd take the opportunity and get over him at that time, that would have spared you of some big problems.
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A/N: So, I don't know how many parts this fic will have. If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing.
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