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lieslab · 1 day

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Teacher's pet

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: Chan finds you late at night struggling with the realization that your high school teacher groomed you.

Genre: Angst with comfort/hurt

Word Count: 3.9K

Trigger warning: Grooming, pedophilia, abuse of power via manipulation, mentions of sex, rape, and sexual assault.

A/N: To the requester for this one, I tried my best while writing this. I did quite a bit of research with this topic. This is incredibly heavy stuff. I'm sorry that this happened to you and to the rest of you, if you've ever gone through something similar, I'm so sorry. Grooming is horrible and I wish it was one of the many things that didn't exist in the world. I hope this can provide, even if it's just a sliver, some sort of comfort <3

_ _ _

When Chan came home from work, you were missing. The two of you had shared an apartment for quite a while. You both went half and half for everything. Living with a roommate made everything cheaper.

“Where are you?” Chan called out. He let his knuckles fall against your bedroom door, but there wasn’t a response. Holding his breath, he turned the knob and pushed the door open to reveal nothing.

Your bed was messy and unmade. Your favorite color of bedding was twisted and one of your pillows was nearly tipping onto the floor. A half-smile came over Chan’s face as he picked it up and placed it back in its proper spot.

It seemed like you were missing, until he realized your bedroom window was unlocked. So you must have climbed out onto the roof. This late at night, it was a treacherous and dangerous task, but you still managed.

You managed to find the footholes in the darkness. In your worn sneakers, you scaled up the two story building and sat up on the fired clay. It wasn’t the best idea, but the roof was where you could breathe.

You and Chan came out here at night all the time. When life became too heavy and you needed fresh air, this was where you went. He came out here to come up with new lyrics and song ideas.

It wasn’t often that the two of you crossed paths on the roof. When you did, the two of you sat in your respective spots. Chan sat on the left and you sat on the right. Your legs dangled over the edge and the moon hung high up in the sky.

Dotted with freckled constellations and the occasional shooting star, you were at ease up here. The air smelled faintly sweet and floral from the cherry blossom trees. In your opinion, they smelled better up here.

The busy traffic of Seoul slowed to a crawl late at night. Most of the time, there’d barely be anyone out here. When they drove by, the faint hum of the accelerator and the occasional huff of gasoline or diesel drifted by.

This time of night, it was wondrous. The grass was starting to grow again and this was the first time you had been up here since winter. The iciness and chill made the roof tiles too slick to climb.

On the roof, you let your legs dangle down and your ankles hung off the edge. Chan pried his fingers beneath your window panel and pushed it up. He stuck his head out and reached up.

You stayed still at the sound of stirring from below. Chan climbed up the side of the building and onto his side of the roof. With a groan, he dropped his body onto the cracking tile.

Your eyes briefly darted towards him before they went back and refound the distance across the way. He must have just got back from the studio. He was still in a pair of black basketball shorts and a matching zip-up hoodie.

His calves were illuminated by the white moonlight. He rubbed them a few moments and curled his legs up while mimicking your own posture.

Your legs were tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around them. The natural line of your mouth drooped down a little more tonight. There was a glassiness to your eyes, as if you were holding back tears.

When Chan realized it, he frowned, but he didn’t want to pry. “Rough night?” He offered weakly.

All you could do was nod without a word. Sometimes reality was like a shard of glass. Swallowing it left your throat hoarse and mangled. It shredded the slippery sides of your esophagus and tore all the way down. The ache and burn left behind was embedded in your brain and it’d always linger like a shadow.

“Wanna talk about it?” Chan offered.

You shook your head and kept your gaze to the distance. If you looked at him, you’d break down and you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to forget about this dark period in your life. You wanted to toss out the memories and let them drift away in the wind; never able to hurt you ever again, but memories are not like dust, they’re much more like syrup.

You can scrub and scrape, but there will always be sticky parts left behind and between the intricate folds of your brain. You can dig and claw, but some memories will be there until the end of time; small annoying bits that are just out of reach.

“Hmm, okay.” Chan slung a hand over his opposite wrist. The two of you sat for a few moments until a dimpled grin stretched across his face. “What if I offered you your favorite popsicle?”

You glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. He let out a small giggle and reached into the pocket of his hoodie. When he pulled it out, he was gripping the familiar packaging of your favorite popsicle flavor.

That must have been the reason why he came up here to begin with. Sometimes the two of you would get things for one another. He must have been unable to wait for you to come down, so he went up.

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble as you gently pulled it from his hand.

“You can thank me by telling me what’s got you so glum.” He pulled out another popsicle from his other pocket and began to unpeel it. “You know me, I won’t judge you.” He flashed you a reassuring smile before he tore open the wrapper.

“I know.”

“Then what is it?” He couldn’t help himself. He was so curious and he was dying to know. It was an itch that couldn't be scratched enough. “What’s on your mind? Hmm?” He shifted closer to you and took a bite of his frozen treat.

Your lips pressed together and you debated on telling him. The topic was one you had never told him about and it would be a tough conversation for the two of you to have. You sucked in a deep breath before you released it.

“It’s um…it’s quite a conversation. It’s a lot and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Chan laughed, “how bad could it really be?”

“I loved him,” you mumbled. Your eyes stayed on your treat while you slowly began to unwrap it.

“Who?”

“My teacher.”

It was slightly melted from where it pressed against the warmth of Chan’s skin. You remembered how warm skin could be. After all, you felt the contact of another human far more than you wanted to when you were younger.

Chan snorted and rolled his eyes. “I loved some of my teachers too. My favorite one was my second grade teacher. What’s the big deal?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I loved him.”

“Like…crushing?”

You sucked in a deep breath and shut your eyes. “It was more than that. It was so much more and there’s a whole story involved. It’s a messy situation that still has me pretty screwed up. I wish he didn’t control me anymore, but…”

You bit your lip trying not to cry. Ever since you found out that the high school teacher, who had groomed you, had gotten married, it was killing you. That was supposed to be you. You were supposed to be the one who married him. He talked about it all the time.

Chan pulled his half-consumed popsicle away from his mouth. With furrowed eyebrows, he took in the distress on your face. His lips puckered together before he went on. “Did something happen?”

“I fell in love with him.”

“Your teacher?”

“And you know what the worst part is?” Glossy tears began to fill your eyes. “I really believed he loved me back.”

Chan stayed silent and attempted to put all the pieces together. The things you were saying weren’t adding up. There was no way you had a thing with your teacher as a kid. No fucking way. He would have known and you would have told him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.”

“It started at the beginning of high school. I had the most amazing math teacher. He was young and he was charming. He couldn’t have been much older than his late twenties. He looked like he walked straight out of Hollywood.”

“The very first assignment he assigned was a get to know me project. He knew I lived with my mom because I mentioned that my dad had been killed in a car accident. I was a kid and that grief was still so new. I was grieving and so was my mom.”

Chan nodded and let you continue.

“And then not too long after that, he’d start asking me to stay after class, so he could help me with a few lessons. It was fine in the beginning, I was just a student who needed some extra help, but it escalated.”

The popsicle was beginning to melt down your hand, but you didn’t care. It oozed across your thumb and caressed your wrist. If you paid too close attention, you could still feel his warm callouses brush against your soft skin.

“And that’s when the touching began.”

“The touching?”

“It was innocent, I swear. He’d come up behind me and began to rub my shoulders while I worked on problems. He’d bend down and whisper his advice into my ear.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Involuntarily, your body was reliving everything. Goosebumps slipped down your arms and a chill swept across your spine.

“Despite how weird it was, I didn’t mind it. Things continued and he made me feel wanted. Over time, he started to get permission from my mom to bring me home. He used to ask about my dad. Apparently, he lost his own dad when he was a kid, so he knew how it felt.”

Chan felt nothing, but disgust. He wanted to plug his ears and he wanted you to stop. How old were you during that time? Thirteen? Maybe fourteen at the latest? You were just a kid.

“I missed my dad so much and he was so kind. I loved the extra attention. During class, he’d brush an arm against me and mutter an apology. He’d let his hand drag across my desk a little longer than normal as he collected my paper with a smile.”

“I-I don’t know. I just really liked how he made me feel and I know-” Your voice cut off. The lump in your throat sat there like a boulder. “I know it wasn’t right, but at the time, I adored everything about it.”

You wiped an arm across your eyes and kept your fingers wrapped around the popsicle stick with the other hand. Your fingers had gone white around the wooden stick. Reliving all of it was like a knife in the chest.

“There was one day where I was in his car. He started to attend all my sporting events to cheer me on. My mom was sick, so she asked if he could drive me there. I-I know how awful it is, but he asked me if I ever had intercourse.”

Chan’s voice stuck in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He wished he could wake up from this nightmare. How could he not know about this? How long had you been burying this pain inside?

“And then when I said no-”

His heart dropped.

“He said he could show me, so I knew what to do.”

And then it shattered. His own tears began to creep up in his eyes. You were just a kid, at that age, you were practically a goddamn baby. How dare someone in such a privileged position hurt you like that.

He was a teacher and you were his student. There was a position of power over you. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and it was morally fucked.

He wanted to throw up. The sweet burst of cold popsicle faded from his tongue. Now the artificial sweetness wanted to make him vomit. He wanted to bend over and throw up.

After a few moments, despite it all, he finally got out the words he was afraid to ask. “Did he…you know?”

When you didn’t respond, he already knew. It crushed his heart. His lungs were on fire and they had burst. An indescribable bright blue rage had ignited. It burned hot enough that it could melt towns and murder platoons of fully armed men.

“Your teacher raped you,” he whispered.

“It wasn’t like that, I said yes and I-”

“You were a child!” His voice flew out stern. “You were a child and he was a teacher! He should have never put his filthy hands on you! That goddamn bastard, I’ll fucking kill him!” The tears in your eyes slid down your cheeks faster. “How long did this go on for?”

“Years,” you weakly got out. “It stopped a few months after I graduated. He said that he needed space. He said it wasn’t working out. He said I-I wasn’t good enough anymore. He said so many things.”

Chan silently did math in his head. He remembered that when he met you, you had graduated nearly a year prior. The two of you were around the same age at the time, but that was years ago. It must have been shortly after the fact.

“And where is he now?”

“Still teaching.”

“I- Huh? What?”

“He’s still at the same school and teaching the same grade. He just recently got married to a girl that graduated a few months ago.”

Chan closed his eyes and tried to focus on calming his raging blood pressure. It wouldn’t help either of you, but he was furious. He probably did the same thing to that girl that he did to you. He probably groomed her too and it made him want to scream and throw something. He wasn’t okay with people taking advantage of others and, specifically, more younger people.

You sniffled and stared out at the distant neon lights. A silence grew between the two of you and you knew you hurt Chan’s feelings. You didn’t mean to, but you needed to get it all out.

“How do you feel about it now?”

You paused for a moment thinking about his words. “I feel so ugly. I feel like I was used and then tossed to the side. I know it sounds bad, but I wish I still had his validation. I still crave it even though it’s been years.”

“I’m really sorry you went through that. It’s a tough situation and you were a kid. You don’t have to beat yourself up over it. You didn’t know and I-”

“But I did know. I knew what was going on and I wanted it to happen. I liked him and it made me feel good. It made me feel loved, so he didn’t groom me and it’s my fau-”

“Don’t make excuses for him!” Chan’s voice went shrill. “He was a grown man and you were a child! You were a baby! You were just growing into becoming your own person and starting high school!”

“Don’t you dare give him another excuse. He knew what he was doing and he knew it was wrong. He should have had the intelligence to stay away from you and never pursue you like that. He’s sick!”

“Y-You don’t get it.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t get it. You’re letting this man get away with this disgusting behavior. What about that girl, huh? What about that girl he married? If another teacher was sleeping with a fourteen year old, would that be okay?”

“No! No! Of course not, but things were dif-”

“You were groomed,” Chan cut you off. Tears streamed down his face. The popsicle was long gone from his hand. Instead, it melted into a puddle on the warm roof tile. “You are a victim in this whole scenario.”

“But I-”

“You are. You are a victim and I will not stop saying it because it’s clear you’ve been brainwashed. You were a child and you didn’t know any better. You were put in an adult scenario when you were a child. You were taken advantage of by a pedophile. Do you hear me?”

Angry tears of frustration poured down his cheeks. He hated that you were blaming yourself for this situation. He hated that you couldn’t see the situation like he could. The grooming had worked on you. So blinded, the truth was skewered in your eyes.

“I will never shut up about it. You were sexually assaulted and raped by a pedophile. You were a child and I don’t care how nice he was. I don’t care if he bribed you with compliments and the affection your life lacked.”

“If you had a fourteen year old kid now, what would you think? If this same thing happened to them? If they came home and announced they had sex with their high school teac-”

“Stop!” You cried as you squeezed your eyes shut. “That’s different! It’s entirely different! Stop it! Stop it!”

“Then tell me what the difference is.”

“The difference was that it was me! I was mature for my age and I-” Your eyes reopened to look at Chan.

The way he was looking at you now, it was killing you. The glassy eyes and the furrowed eyebrows. There was anger looming in that russet brown. The moonlight reflected off them and bounced it back towards you.

You couldn’t help it as your exterior began to crack. Like an egg, pieces of shell were ripped away. Your bottom lip trembled and you struggled to get out the next few words.

“T-The difference is that I just wanted to be loved by a father figure. I-I missed my dad so much and I-” You didn’t get a chance to finish because you burst into sobs.

It was overwhelming as you cried. The stickiness still stuck to your hand. The liquified popsicle drizzled down the clay tiles and dripped off the roof. This hurt buried inside was killing you. You remembered all of it.

You remembered how uncomfortable you were when his chapped lips met yours. You remembered the way his fingers tightened against your hips. Puberty was still relatively new to you and you were trying to grow more into your developing body.

Your limbs were a little longer. There was more weight in places there hadn’t been before. It was only the start of freshman year. You were new to high school and things were much different.

You remembered how much it hurt the first time. How you were left to fend for yourself in a puddle of your own warm blood. A little fearful, you remembered the growing disgust you felt deep inside yourself, but you thought it was normal.

You couldn’t get your innocence back. Society was cruel when it came to such a thing. You weren’t pure anymore, you were infected and diseased. You were as filthy as the rest of them. A fallen angel who had lost their wings.

If your mother ever would have known, she would have lost it. You always grew up being told sexual intimacy was something that happened a lot later in life, but you were so mature for your age. At least, that’s what your teacher said.

He liked the way your body looked. You were young, you were fresh, you were nothing, but a docile little lamb. With your sparkling doe-eyes, you were nothing, but a toy for him.

Your skin was unmarked by anyone before him. You were so young and naive. You were malleable and pliable; perfect for a hungry wolf like himself. The young lambs always have the cleanest and purest blood; they always taste the sweetest.

You wanted love, he wanted pleasure. You wanted affection, he craved attention. You wanted a father, he wanted your freshly ripened body; straight from the vine, you were plucked for him and him alone.

What a perfect and sweet peach that you were. So ripe, so delectable, not a bruise detected on your delicate flesh. And your juice, how irresistible you were.

Plucked from the vine, yanked from the others, and taken a bite out of. When you were old enough, you were tossed to the ground. It was there where you rotted with the other withering peaches.

You fermented a soft sweetness for the flies until you withered brown and green. You withered away in the scorching sun. Your once soft skin writhed and squirmed until you decomposed into the dirt to be walked over again and again and again.

You had never felt quite right since then. You searched for love in the wrong places. You fell to your knees and begged for an ounce of love. Nobody could fill you and supply you with enough love as your teacher had.

He told you just enough to keep you happy. After a while of teaching a dog a new trick, you don’t have to teach them anymore. You grew to learn what he liked and disliked. It was a toxic tornado filled with an improper power dynamic.

He didn’t care about the sticky hands and half-melted popsicles anymore. Chan gently grabbed your forearm and pulled your body towards him. Your shoes scraped along the cracked tile.

Beneath the moonlight, you fell apart as Chan’s hands wrapped around you. Unlike your teacher, his hands didn’t roam your body. They didn’t search for sexual pleasure. He didn’t use your body for his advantage. His arms wrapped around your back and they stayed there.

He soothed you softly and rocked you back and forth trying to comfort you. He had no doubt that you were exhausted. This was a lot to share with anyone and that included him. He continued to rock you and placed his chin on the top of your head.

He’d sway all night if he had to. He’d sing you a soft lullaby and lure you to sleep. He’d keep away anyone who dared to lay a rotten finger on you.

In a few hours, the moon would be replaced with sunlight. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Your sobs began to turn into quick hiccups. He kept his arms around you and quietly cooed.

He needed to find you someone to talk to. Your perception of everything was still warped. The past still had its claws on you. You were still under the illusion your teacher had created. You were a victim, but he was determined to help you become a survivor.

You were so strong. You had hid this from him for years. As your hiccups began to fade away, he gently placed his lips on the top of your head in an attempt to comfort you.

No matter what happened tomorrow, he’d remind you how much he loved you over and over again. He’d continue to show you what real love was. Again and again, he’d show you until one day, you realized what healthy love truly looked like.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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agi-ppangx · 2 months

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happy (bang chan x gn!reader)

fluff, no warnings, channie is home

an: based on this request !! ahh i love it so much, writing this one was such a pleasure :((

“how about this one?” you pointed to a picture on the shelf in chan’s childhood bedroom. he chuckled when he noticed which one you were asking about.

“that’s my friend and me after a whole day of selling lemonade.”

“you were selling lemonade? that’s so cliché,” you laughed softly, trying to remain quiet as it was two in the morning already. chan got up from his bed and took a step into your direction, wrapping his arms around your waist and peppering a few kisses to your bare shoulders.

“there was some kind of race that day and we decided to be good little boys and help the runners,” he laughed, seeing your amused face. it was your first time in australia with him. everything was so new and interesting to you, but you couldn't help yourself when it came to teasing your boyfriend a little bit. but chan didn’t mind at all, not when he had his family with him, not when you were there with him. he was the happiest man alive and your teasing only added to the domesticity, filling his heart with love and adoration.

“and where did the good little boy go, hm? you’re a menace now, i can’t believe you were such a golden child,” you giggled, kissing his rosy cheek. you tried to get out of his embrace but chan was faster, picking you up and throwing you on his bed, starting a tickle fight.

“channie!” you squeaked, immediately covering your mouth to muffle your laughter. “okay, okay! i’m sorry!” you whisper-yelled, praying he would stop. “i swear to god, if it woke your parents up i’ll ki–” you didn’t finish because chan’s lips found themselves on yours, slowly but steadily kissing you. you felt yourself melt under his touch as his hand came to your face to cup your cheek. you didn’t even register when you ended up on his lap, but you didn’t complain, getting lost in the moment.

“you seem happy,” you mumbled into his lips in between kisses. he smiled sheepishly, kissing you again, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer.

“i am happy,” he responded breathlessly and you believed him. you saw it in his eyes - he was finally home.

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sunboki · 1 month

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— ENDLESS WINTER. a Christopher Bahng fiction

Christopher Bahng x f. reader

TROPE. Beast! au, Mage! au, enemies to lovers (she wants to kill him), marriage au, angst

WARNINGS. violence, kidnapping, mention of a past war, descriptions of murder, reader is injured, hyunjin is a bit of a pain, hinted minsung (hehe), blood, kissing (dubcon), cursing

WORD COUNT. 12k words

AUG'S NOTES. if there’s ever been a more spontaneous fic in history it would be this… every sentence is write is purely self indulgent…. (genuinely a written version of the stories i make in my head while laying in bed)

SYNOPSIS. As heiress of the Magus, otherwise, Mage Clan, you find your position ripped from your fingertips when the Beast Clan conducts a raid. Left the only survivor, you make it your priory to stay alive in a ravaged Kingdom. That is, before you’re captured.

alternatively :

Starvation becomes the least of your problems when you meet King Bahng.

Hiding in the kitchen’s cupboard was definitely not your intention.

Neither was the Kingdom getting raided by the Beast Clan or being the (presumably) lone survivor in the castle, but fate would have its way, whether you liked it or not — this one just a bit more severe than usual.

Your mother once told you of the Beast Clan, of their ferocity and inability to handle things diplomatically. In her opinion, Beast were barely able to be considered Human.

Well, these words came after the Mage-Beast War; a grueling, disgustingly brutal dispute that caused what was referred to as the “Endless Winter”, a curse put upon the nation by a Magus overseer bidding every day of every year with, well, “endless winter”.

She told you how the ground used to be a wondrous green. Soft beneath your fingertips like feathers. Now, blankets of snow stretched as far as the eye could see, killing off any remaining expanse of foliage.

Although years had passed since then, your Kingdom was still recovering, still navigating importing routes in order to supply necessary goods.

Yet, everything was rapidly adapting, whether that was the snow-shoe rabbits roaming your vast tundra or the unexpected growth of fur on the bottom of the horse’s hooves.

Growing, learning.

Magus, though a lineage of magic practitioners, had begun to dull over the centuries. There was no need to learn with peace eminent, and the more aged those wielding supernatural abilities became, the less said abilities progressed into your generations.

However, Magus is the hearth of your Kingdom, and for as long as you live, the title shall reign supreme.

A title that, used by enemies and allies alike, had modernized from its ancient form Magus, to Mage.

Dinner held in the customary hall began that night, seat upon seat homing each member of the family adorned in their extravagant clothing.

Your father occupied the upmost chair, his plate stacked full of greasy lamb and pork bones. You, on the other hand, had had your fill chatting the cook’s ear off, slipping sweet potato wedges here and there as you talked.

Ms. Maewether was her name, a sad soul who carried her love in her cherished dishes. A love reserved for her late husband, a Beast himself, who unfortunately passed in The War.

Back then you asked her questions to the moon, about what they looked like specifically — if they really had eight inch claws like all the other children gossiped, if they could feel.

The last one was important, because everything Ms. Maewether told you you believed without a doubt, and the number one thing she pressed was that Beasts can feel, so very deeply. Just like humans.

The War changed that, and tension rose tenfold, especially as each Kingdom recovered from their countless casualties.

Luckily, your life had been peaceful, having been born young enough you could hardly remember.

Had been peaceful.

A scream from outside redirects the table’s conversation, relatives and siblings alike turning their head to gaze out the window.

Your blood runs cold.

Beasts, left and right, are slaughtering. Their clothing stained in blood that certainly isn’t their own, blades in clutch.

Immediately, panic ensues. People are trampling over each other to get out, disregarding every instinct but to stay alive. It’s chaos.

Dodging flailing bodies, you anchor yourself in a secluded cupboard below the countertops, shrinking as close to the wall as possible.

A few moments after everyone evacuates the Dining Hall do you hear cries. Yelling, gargled sounds. You cringe back imagining, stifling your breathing as much as possible.

Suddenly, a thought comes to mind, a thought that might just be responsible for saving your life.

Smell.

Ms. Maewether warned you a Beast’s smell is like no other, like a dogs. Twenty times as heightened as a persons.

So slowly, silently, you fish your hand into the small bit of darkness in front of you, locating a small bottle of cooking grease you wince upon finding — forcing the awful smelling concoction over your body, masking your scent.

Right after sitting down the container does the door creak open, heavy footsteps belonging to none other than a Beast. You can hear it in their sniffing, the clicking of their claws. Chills scatter your arms.

Another enters as the second door creaks, muttering something incomprehensible to its companion. At this point you’re pressed to the other side of the cupboard, both hands covering your mouth.

Your heart thunders in your chest, beating unbearably loud the longer you huddle.

Walking past where you lie, a Beast stops, body ducking down close enough you can hear its labored panting. You wait, waiting for the door to be flung open and for your death to await.

It doesn’t. And you thank whomever above for the echo of its presence fading away into the distance, barely relaxing against the highly uncomfortable hiding spot.

Instead, a blood curdling screech rips through the atmosphere, comparably close to where you hide. Abruptly, it stops, the thump of a body against the floor making you staunch the nausea building like bile in your throat.

It takes three days for you to finally peer out of the cupboard, the entirety of the Kingdom completely void of a soul.

Taking your first few steps around do you notice a woman, obviously slain by the puddle of blood surrounding her and the putrid stench. Her mouth hangs open—horror-stricken, frozen in place. You vomit in the sink.

For about a week do you roam the murder-house of a castle, finding purchase in a non-blood-bathed room and the many, thought to be endless amount of food.

You won’t leave, simple.

As long as the Beast Clan believes they’ve killed everyone, you’re safe.

That reminder was assuring, until your food supply dropped exponentially and a new problem situated itself on your platter.

Worst case scenario you die of starvation, the likelihood high if you stay here. Solution? Hunting.

Granted, you’re not the most skillful hunter, but you’re also not horrendous with a bow. Except, it’s not your aiming abilities you stress, it’s the chance someone sees you, the enemy sees you.

Four weeks in and you’re left with no other choice than to bundle yourself in layers upon layers of clothing and heed the feeble weaponry available.

Blizzard frost permeates your vision, wobbling steps making your hunger evident the more you roam. A horse would’ve been effortlessly useful, but selling yourself into that fantasy had been futile upon realizing they either took or killed all escapades.

A hare catches your eye, pale fur barely divisible from the terrain below. Carefully, you crouch down, elbow stretching the arrow back as far as possible whilst maintaining a solid grip. Steady. Steady.

Shoot!

The arrow flies, puncturing the animal in its chest enough to where it thankfully doesn’t suffer, flopping over rather pathetically instead.

However, your success is short-lived.

Stalking forward to snatch the creature quickly, a shadow looming overhead halts your footsteps. Behind you.

Before you can think to run, you wind back, meager arrow in hand providing little defense against the attacker.

First thing you take in is how huge they are. At least six feet tall if not taller, brilliantly ruby eyes revealing its true identity.

Beast.

With ease the man has your efforts pinned, curiousity overflowing as the animal looks at you. Yet, he doesn’t look like an animal, and apart from those eyes of his, no other factors would’ve revealed him to you but that.

This Beast has a fox-like face. A younger stature and smaller, slanted features.

“Hyung, what is this?” He asks, lifting your petrified frame like you were the rabbit you’d killed earlier.

His older counterpart glances over, and any hope of getting released plummets upon those wild crimson hues focusing in on you—knowledgeable as to what you were.

The cooking grease had long worn off, and your identity was likely as apparent as can be.

Mage.

Older Beast easily roaming through the snow, his fingers tangle into your hair, drawing out a cry when he jerks his hand up, forcing your gaze to meet his through the searing sting of your scalp. The younger grimaces.

His long, nearly white hair is tied into a ponytail, sharp cheekbones and calculating stare beyond intimidating. Beneath his left eye you note a small, distinct mole.

“One remained, huh.”

It’s a fever dream walking into the Kingdom that, compared to yours, looks positively flourishing with life. Beasts of all kinds roam about, carrying on with their daily lives, oblivious to the winds of death they’ve swept your way.

Everything in your body feels as if it’s shutting down, unable to feel the sensation of your legs as you trudge forward, the younger, much kinder Beast ensuring you kept pace.

Freezing temperatures carry on the longer snow falls, gluing strands of hair to your forehead, blanketing your lashes while your nose runs incessantly.

In front of you now lies the castle, far grander than you could’ve ever imagined. Twin spires peek above the low-hanging clouds, stone columns towering above.

From your distance you spot two knights positioned on either side of the entryway, large armored helmets with hawk feathers adorning the ridges.

One knight stops your ascent, the light-haired man rolling his eyes profusely.

“Minho, this is important.”

“Important enough you’re bringing a Mage into the Kingdom?”

His voice smooth as honey, he sports a dominant tone when speaking. Stare observant, he watches the other Beast’s expressions with uncanny precision.

“Because if you haven’t noticed Hyunjin,” He leans forward a bit, whispering. “You have the entire Kingdom’s attention.”

At this, either of the Beasts who escorted you turn around, and upon doing so are met with hundreds, if not thousands of eyes boring into their soul. Whether it’s younger Beasts or aged soldiers, those heinous vermillion orbs seem to see through you.

You gulp.

“C’mon,” Hyunjin harshly beckons, nudging you forward through the gates with the younger quick on his tail.

Every color in the Palace is monochromatically grey, although strikes of royal blue reside in large drapes hung from perched balconies.

Similar guards to those outside sift throughout the room, familiar hawk feathers litter everywhere in sight, paving paths to the core of the room where a throne sits.

Pointed edges flank either side of the massive chair, the ocean blue rug underneath reflecting up and out of the ceiling — a glass design stretching wide across the throne room, emphasizing the dusky weather outside.

According to the younger Beast whose title you learned as Jeongin, the King was currently participating in a hunt with Changbin (the lead hunter of the Palace), so after hasty appreciation of the sheer volume of this breathtaking castle, you’re forced toward the dungeons.

Jeongin wears a pitying frown, promising to return with some food to your chambers in the case the King doesn’t arrive for a while.

At least someone in this Kingdom doesn’t insist you’re beheaded.

“Finally, somebody else is here.”

A voice erupting from the darkening depths to your right make you jump, chained wrists clanging abruptly. Through minimal lighting of the burning lamps hastened upon the walls, you make out the silhouette of a man, face bunching in a sweet manner when he smiles.

Unusually, his hands aren’t chained.

“What’re you in here for?” You begin, gaze narrowed in confusion. The chubby-cheeked stranger smiles haphazardly.

“I would ask you the same thing. I’m the King’s Advisor, he just gets tired of me and puts me in here sometimes,” Your chamber-mate sighs, and once you take in what he professed, the urge to laugh becomes too strong to control.

Laughing for the first time in quite a while is sort of relieving, especially when this new acquaintance of yours begins whining his dismay, aimlessly trying to hush your giggles.

Red eyes. You can see them blinking up at you, gleaming when he grins his pointed teeth.

Quickly pausing, you wait in horror as he gradually sniffs in.

Your stomach sinks.

“Wait… You’re a Mag—“

His phrase is cut off by a loud ringing noise, a familiar echo of keys tunneling down the dungeons stairwell.

Another stranger unlocks the door. He’s burly, with curly hair in disarray. Cuffs of animal fur wraps around defined biceps, his top a tight-fitted arrangement of fur and woven leather paired with small iron spikes studding the shoulder lining.

A scar passes down the corner of his lip, long since healed but remaining faded.

“C’mere,” He ushers, voice gruff and rumbling when he unlocks your shackles, big hand pushing you forward up the stairs.

If anybody here had pure Beast in their bloodline, it would be this man. His demeanor is rough, but his touch on your back is surprisingly gentle whilst guiding you upward.

Again you’re granted with the wondrous sight of the Throne Room in all its historic glory, although your gaze directed at the floor keeps you ignorant to so many heads bowed, so many voices cast to silence upon the click of footsteps approaching.

And when you look up, you meet strikingly blue eyes—perhaps a genetic mutation of a sort.

They’re stunning, enrapturing almost, and you find the need to break eye contact immediate, more dire than normal while staring down at you.

Plump, full lips and perfectly sculpted facial features seem that of a Greek god’s, too ethereal to exist in your reality. A glittering, silver crown sits stark atop a black nest of hair.

Either arm rests on the sides of the throne, and you swore you’d never seen someone look so, King-like. That, and the massive cape of wolf-skin draped over his back.

A devil, dressed as an angel.

“Your Highness, this Mage was found near the L/N Kingdom by Hwang Hyunjin and Yang Jeongin while scouting the territory.” A palace-woman announces, the same guard who lingered outside, Minho, standing to your side.

Your blood boils, disregarding every ounce of amazement once inhabited.

It’s him. The man responsible for the demise of loved ones you couldn’t count on all of your fingers and toes.

Minho, as if sensing your frothing rage, mutters through his helmet a staggered warning—remaining upright and unmoving at attention.

“Do not move and do not look into his eyes unless you’re asking for death.”

Your patience dissipates, lip twitching involuntarily.

You can’t remember the last time you were genuinely angry. You were happy, surrounded by people you loved.

Those people weren’t here now, they were killed.

“You murderer! You’re a—“ Your attempt at lashing out at the King stalled when Minho kicks the crevice between your knees, forcing you down on the carpet below.

“Monster! A bloody— fucking— Monster!”

Palace representatives gasp their bewilderment, some beckoning you away to the dungeons, others urging Minho to end you right here and now.

It wouldn’t matter, would it?

The King’s raised hand stalls the accusations, his familiar clicking footsteps nearing closer till he stands before you.

Shifting down into a squat, the man tips your chin up to meet cerulean again, his head slightly tilted to the side.

“Don’t get it mixed up little one,” He murmurs, the pad of his thumb controlling your movement.

“I did not kill your family. Your family killed themselves.”

Fist sharply winding around for a punch, he catches it before you can even register your predicament, iron grip strong enough you fear he might just snap your wrist in half.

“And I wouldn’t recommend fighting back, otherwise I can’t guarantee your safety.”

Concluding his threat the further he bends your wrist, you whine, face scrunching from the pain until he finally stops, amusedly surveying your expression.

Denying your own enraged shaking, you suck your teeth, focus vehemently pinned onto him.

“Why would you care about my safety?” You snarl, trying to wriggle his hold off to no avail.

“Because,” The King cocks his brows. “I like you.”

About to spit another word, he interrupts you, index tracing the veins of your arm.

“Plus, I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.”

You shiver.

Your second day and you feel as if you’re officially going insane.

The only person tolerable here is Jeongin, that chamber guard whose name you don’t know, and Felix, the castles cook. You barely see the King, and even when he’s present he’s usually quartered in his study.

What he does there remains unknown, information learned in the mere form of startled maids leaving the room and gossip among those wandering the Kingdom.

“Do you know what he does?”

Felix looks up from the dish he was laying in front of you, wispy blond locks bouncing with the movement.

“Does what?” He piques, ridding a stray piece of hair clinging to your sleeve.

“The King, what does he do all day long?”

One thing about Felix you love, his honesty. Regardless of if most would tell a quick fib and flee, Felix, although occasionally working around a topic, takes the time to actually explain things to you.

Allows you to learn more of the place you’re going to have to call home.

“Hm..” He pulls a chair from your right to drop into, and for a moment, you see Ms. Maewether in that smile of his. Your heart aches.

“Chris— I mean, King Bahng is always busy. He plans trade agreements, oversees the hunts, and basically keeps this castle alive.”

Chris?

“Who’s Chris?”

Felix nearly squeaks, burying his head in his hands. Evidently, you weren’t supposed to hear that part, but an eagerness to know more about this solitary King kept your hesitance at bay.

“That’s his name. Christopher Bahng, but you’re not allowed to call him that and not allowed to tell anyone about us having this conversa-“

“Tell who?”

You quite literally almost fall backwards in your seat, failing to anticipate the pair of hands placed on Felix’s shoulders.

A pair of hands, followed by a pair of ocean blue eyes, boring right into you and the horrified boy in front of you.

King Bahng. In the flesh.

“Oh.. Hey Chri— Hello Your Highness.”

Again he corrects. These two must know each other.

“Tell who, Felix?” He speaks, tone nothing short of teasing—though the boy looks just as startled, practically sweating through his clothing.

Still adorning that flanking wolf-cape of his, his dark hair is slightly messy, expression distorted curiously.

You hate him to admit, but King Bahng is horribly attractive.

“Nothing! Nothing at all, Your Highness,” Felix chirps, fixing you with a ‘Don’t say a word’ glare you cease to argue with.

Rising up from your seat quickly as if you had any duties in this Kingdom to tend to, you find yourself stalling.

You have so many questions. …And the overwhelming urge to slap him across the face.

You’ve received a fair warning on the latter.

“I’ll be off now, Your Highness.”

The last words come out involuntary, used to referring to your own father this way. It made you sick to know you regarded his murderer the same.

And though the King didn’t stand extremely tall (considering how young Beasts were already your height), his hulking stature felt as if it could swallow you whole, pointed canines flashing when he smiled, sending your head reeling.

Pleased.

King Bahng was pleased hearing something nonthreatening come out of your mouth.

Vile.

Yet, you simply curtsied and hurried off, ceasing to notice the immediate growl Felix directed in the King’s direction.

“Good lord, I know she smells good but you’re practically undressing her with your eyes,” The freckled boy grumbles, returned with an uninterested expression from his friend.

Before the King can head off to whatever meeting he has planned, however, he spins on his heel.

“Have you consulted Seungmin about the scent-blocking salve?”

“Possessive, are we?”

His glare shuts the cook up immediately.

“If there is one Mage left, it’s mine. And since she’s the survivor, she’s mine.”

Yeah, he’s not beating the possessive allegations. But if he’s going to gain your trust, and eventually, after much thought, become mates, he’s keeping every other Beast in the Kingdom at a distance from you at all times.

“Jeongin will report when it’s completed. And Chris?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t expect her to warm up to you.”

King Bahng hums.

“I don’t.”

And with that, Felix follows your exit, leaving the King to his own devices, your nectar-sweet smell lingering in his nose.

“If I stare at the same wall for hours and hours, shouldn’t it break by now?”

“You’re a Mage, not telekinetic,” Han replies, repetitively scanning over a piece of parchment assumed to be a guest list.

In the midst of your incessant boredom, you found yourself following the King’s Advisor around, peering over his shoulder at the endless list of haughty names written in languid ink strokes.

Amongst them, you ceased to find your father’s name. You knew it wouldn’t be there, but somehow, you wished if you blinked enough it would magically appear.

King L/N, written in that same, cursive font.

Rounding a corner, you conclude if there’s anyone you avoid more than King Bahng (a.k.a Chris), it was Hyunjin. That man was a serpent in a Beast’s body.

Catching sight of his dreaded ponytail, you hastily retrace your steps, hiding behind a massive doorframe while Han stares at you as if you’re a rodent scurrying at his shoes.

“He won’t bite y’know.”

“If only you would’ve been there when he first found me,” You whisper angrily, practically clawing at the wood desperately till he leaches you out.

Leaching enough, in fact, that you end up right in Hyunjin’s line of sight, who surveys you up and down with a cocked brow to the point you’re sure steam is billowing from your ears.

Mocking. Ruby-red, mocking eyes.

He does bite. He sinks his teeth into the flesh and tears.

You won’t bleed without biting back.

Han’s iron grip tightens on your arm as slowly, oh so slowly, Hyunjin walks closer.

The strategist prowls, edging right up in your face—noses a thread-width apart.

His glower sets your fury alight, lips curled in a deriding notion.

“No need to glare, wouldn’t want wrinkles ruining that face of yours.”

“No need to get so close unless you plan to kiss me, mutt.”

Though, just as Hyunjin preapres to lunge, a big hand holds him back, animal fur cuffs indicating it isn’t the King who stepped in.

The man who had fetched you from the chambers earlier divided either of you. Shorter, but evidently stronger.

“Control yourselves, both of you. For as long as she stays in the Kingdom, she’s The King’s property—“

“I am no one’s property,” You snarl, and the guard turns.

Basked in clear lighting, you can finally see him. Honing dark brown hair hanging above his eyebrows, the same scar resides by his mouth, though, his eyes are much kinder than you expected.

Taking a slow inhale, he reads your conflicted expression like an ornate mirror.

“One mage in the Kingdom of Beasts? Sorry to break it to you, but yes, you are his property. So as long as she’s here, nobody lays a finger on her, understood?”

Glancing to each person, either of them ease their apprehension, the bewildered Jisung next to you stifling a breath, Hyunjin rolling his eyes with a loud huff.

Baiting seconds pass, and in that period of time do you realize you never caught his name. Specifically, the guard’s name.

“Excuse m-“

“Seo Changbin,” Han interjects. “His name is Seo Changbin.”

Ah. Right.

Now on the roster of least-likely to kill you, Jeongin, Changbin, Felix, and Han.

Filled with a need to evade, you stand merely as a spectator as each horridly red hue snaps to stare at you, your heart spiking an alarming rate.

The King’s Advisor’s fingers tighten to the point you’re sure he’s blocking blood flow.

“You need to leave. Jisung, get in contact with Seungmin and see when the salve is done,” Changbin instructs, already shoving Hyunjin away.

Salve. What salve?

Failing to give you any explanation, you’re dragged off, boisterously complaining before the highly annoyed man abruptly pauses, finger nudging your forehead irritably.

“You smell.”

Then he leaves, and you’re left to wonder if you’re still in primary school or the Kingdom of Beasts.

You smell? What’s that supposed to mean?

First thing in the morning, you’re torn from your slumber with a blazing sun scorching your eyes.

Your canopy beds silken drapes doing little to block the attack, you whine to an apologetic Jisung who merely sighs in return.

“Sorry sleeping beauty, but we have an appointment to attend this morning. Can you handle getting dressed on your own?”

You roll your eyes, groggily pulling yourself upright. “I was an heiress, not helpless.”

To which he cracks a miniature grin and slips out the door, allowing you to hurriedly strip off your chemise and messily arrange your stays and petticoats.

Out of all things you’d been deprived of, a part of the L/N Clan unable to be divided was your garments.

Somewhere, in the midst of fabric and citrus scented soap, you swear you can still smell bits and pieces of home.

What this appointment entailed you failed to ask, gingerly hustled down winding hallways barely illuminated with sunlight.

The Kings Advisor expertly winds further and further down, georgian architecture littered in symmetrical golden portraits and decorum, casement glass windows twinkling as you walked past.

Having reached a dead end, you’re pleasantly surprised to watch Han jar a brass doorknob open, paving a breathtaking view of the garden ahead.

Garden had to be an understatement. This amount of foliage was nothing short of a forest.

Flowers of all kind surround your walk to a shrouded greenhouse, abnormally brick relative to it’s stone-castle counterpart. Its walls are overgrown in slithering vines, door nearly invisible without proper inspection.

Jisung, having noticed your amazed expression, chuckles.

Granted, it’s been years since you’d seen any form of green vegetation, your astonishment felt justified.

“We’ve arrived.”

Oh how you wish to stay here forever. Not captive by the Beast Clan, no, but in this garden, hidden.

And if the last door took effort to pry open, this was a new challenge entirely. Through thickets of dense hedge and tangled branches, Jisung had to quite literally ram himself into the chittering wood for entry.

“Knock next time would you?” A voice projects from inside, belonging to a man clad in rounded spectacles, a slightly hooked nose, and cleanly hair parted to the side.

The Kings Advisor, apparently having known him, beams his prize-winning smile upon seeing the man.

“Seungminnnn—“ Han drawls out, excitedly waddling over to wrap him in a crushing hug. Stiffly, Seungmin pats his back, an action you fondly watch from afar.

“Ah!” The more ebullient of the two springs up, turning to you. “This is Seungmin, he runs the apothecary here.”

Nodding stiffly, Seungmin ushers you to one of the many mahogany chairs circling a gateleg table; a vase—likely jade with its pale green hue—filled with indigo hydrangea presides in the center.

“And,” Han’s outburst cuts off your awe. “He’s practically my little brother.”

Now you’re in awe again, but for a different reason. And by the evident frown on Seungmin’s face, he can tell.

“Shocking, right?”

Yes, shocking for certain.

Though, before you can reply, Han slaps his hands on either of the man’s shoulders, expression transformed into one of seriousness.

“About time I left then, yeah?” Was spoken while his form hurriedly retreated out the door, leaving you with more questions than answers to what just occurred.

“..He forgot something again.”

Biting back your laugh, you finally take a seat, given ample time as Seungmin shuffles off to the side to acknowledge your everything to its fullest extent.

Matching the plant-infested interior, verdant drawers scatter the corners, a lone, looming medicinal cabinet left ajar as the chemist poured over a variety of assorted concoctions.

Air stained with a damp smell of earth, you notice, much to your curiosity, the longevity of such a place.

This apothecary, though inside the castle, feels like an entirely new settlement of its own. An establishment existing before the war, rebuilt (inefficiently) enough to where it was only required to stand stable.

From first sighting you’d grown an attachment to it, but this newfound understanding, these newfound details setting the apothecary apart from your predicament let you imagine yourself anywhere else, back to a nostalgia you longed for.

A short term fix.

“This.” You’re handed a phial from overhead. It’s a slightly green substance, thicker in texture that rests heavy in your hand. “Is for you.”

Slipping across from you, he surveys your analyzing, arms crossed over a deep brown waistcoat.

“And this is..?” You inquire, looking up from the cork-sealed glass.

“A salve. You had better not waste it, material is low as is and I’ve been waiting years for this winter to end already.”

Well that didn’t answer your question. You’ve heard conversation about a specific salve for days on end, but no genuine explanation caved in—

‘I’ve been waiting years for this winter to end already.’

Repeatedly mulling over the words, you can practically feel your heart palpitating, head beginning to spin.

..End already? The endless winter.. ending?

“So you’re saying,” You murmur, placing down this special salve in order to truly regard him.

“There’s a way to end the Endless Winter?”

His brows crease critically, seemingly sarcastic.

“There’s an end to everything sweetheart. Life, death. Start, finish. War,” He meets your eyes with a conniving grin, a face you hadn’t seen on the man before.

“Peace.”

Automatically, you roll your eyes.

Peace? Peace when there was no peace left to be made, no kingdom remaining to make peace with?

“And how do you think the nonexistent Mage will make peace with Beasts?”

Seungmin grins.

“Well there is a Mage left,” He scornfully states, flicking your forehead whilst you palm the sting, frown evident.

“And as far as making peace goes, marriage.”

Marriage.

What.

“Wait- so you’re telling me big bad King Bahng could’ve just hooked up with a Mage and called it a day and everything would be fine?”

Seungmin clears his throat.

“One, Bahng doesn’t ‘hook up’. Two, it’s not as easy as that.”

Of course it’s not as easy as that. Why would it be?

You wish to claw your eyes out of your head, anticipating his explanation.

“Because if you weren’t aware before, marriage ties between Mage and Beast are very difficult to establish. Bahng is picky on everything, and even pickier when it comes to mates.”

But before you can argue there were thousands of suitors roaming the L/N Kingdom for him to pick from, Seungmin interrupts.

“Plus, if anyone else were King I’m sure we would’ve had peace decades ago. You’re lucky you’re in the castle right now, otherwise you would be eaten alive.”

Your face scrunching worriedly, he rakes an exasperated hand through his hair, plopping down on the vanity’s chair.

“Your scent.”

Again, you’re reminded of Han’s ‘you smell’ comment. Why is it showing up a second time?

He groans frustratedly, wordlessly praying you understand.

You don’t.

“Mage have specific scents. You can’t smell it since you’re not Beast. But let me tell you, you smell fucking delightful.”

Oh.

That’s what he meant by eaten alive, and the entire ‘you smell’ conundrum.

Seungmin, rather entertained with the shock written on your face, shrugs his shoulders, nonplussed by the crassness of his earlier statement.

“Now you get the use of the salve, right? And why you’re not allowed to leave the castle?”

Your mouth feels dry of response, beckoned toward the exit without so much as a peep passing through your lips.

However, right as the you’re halfway gone, he stops you, brows cocked.

“Do us all a favor and marry him, will you?”

And like that, the apothecary’s door thumps closed behind you.

If only the “him” he was referring to wasn’t King Bahng, you might’ve agreed.

Marriage in the L/N Kingdom had been a sacred event.

An event you’d been prepared for since childhood, fed daydreams of a day you would be married to a prince-like man with perfect features and a perfect personality, every element fabricated from a young age.

Truly, you loved it. Loved visualizing a life shared with your loved one, whoever that man would be.

Little did you know he might just be King of the Beast Clan.

No. You refused. Marrying a murderer, the murderer of your family, was the last thing you would oblige to.

He sent the command, he led the attack, and you’d rather die than give him the satisfaction of marriage.

Although, one problem. Similar to life back at the L/N Kingdom, supplies only lasted for some time before shipments became low, and pretty soon (according to Seungmin) the salve you were given would run dry.

Meaning, your meager chance of protection lay completely exposed, susceptible to any Beast daring enough to try something.

Two sides of a coin remained. Heads, you marry the murderer of a King and spring returns, or tails, you abstain and are eventually left vulnerable.

You’ve always been the person to confront a difficulty head-on, but, in this case, a different, defensive approach crossed your mind.

Run away.

Despite Seungmin’s sensible reminder to not leave the castle, what other option sounded suitable?

Die physically or mentally, pick your poison.

Or maybe, never drink the poison in the first place. Evade.

Three days have passed since you received the salve, and after applying it behind your ears and between your elbows at dawn, you were free to do as you pleased—within the castle walls.

Yet, tomorrow’s dawn would be divergent. Tomorrow, you would be days away from the Beast Clan.

Sneakily roaming around, you managed to find certain outlets to your disposal. Nearby the chambers you’d been kept in was a moth eaten, hooded cloak seemingly unworn for quite awhile. Ideal for an anonymous escape.

Furthermore, amongst the colloquy during a dinner with Changbin and Felix in the Great Hall, you distinctly recall overhearing information about the stables.

If you were to flee, you needed a horse, and thanks to the guard, you knew right where to find one.

Unable to sleep the night before, your dry eyes blink through the dense darkness, sweeping the candlestick from your side table for a minimal source of vision.

Lathering a copious amount of salve all over your skin, you slip down the winding stairwell, grateful for the shadowed moonlight gazing down upon the Throne Room as you venture.

Bingo. There’s the cloak.

Sweeping the fabric over your shoulders, you slip the hood over your head, creeping down the steep steps leading into a surrounding ward.

On your left, across the butcher’s vendors.

Blindly searching, the whinny of a mare alerts your close distance, carefully winding through lead ropes and linked fences to the first horse in sight.

You have to be fast, the sun will rise at any moment it pleases, and it’s impertinent you’re gone by then.

Hoisting a mere saddle pad over the back, you deem the saddle too noisy, slipping the reins overheard and adjusting their length accordingly.

Jogging forwards, you’re brisk to gain a running leap atop the horse prior to the thunder of hooves charging forward.

Closer to the gatehouse you near, a luckily open drawbridge allowing easy passage across.

Faster, faster. You can’t afford to slow down. Daylight is beginning to peer above the horizon, warming your back with rays of sunlight amongst a snowy landscape.

And when the kingdom wakes up, it’ll be as if you were never there.

But, an undecided factor stayed. Where would you go? There was no kingdom left for you, no home to go to.

For now, you needed to prioritize finding a hiding spot, if only for a night, that supplies warmth.

Given the opportunity, too long out here and you or your horse will indefinitely succumb to the frigid conditions.

Veering off sharply, you sidle beneath a barren magnolia tree, its thick trunk barely blocking the unforgiving wind. Pretty soon you’ll have to keep on, but for now, you’ll savor the temporary peace.

Blue skies indicate it must be nearing morning, and you assume the castle will be slowly waking up. By now, King Bahng would likely be awake as well, you’ve been told he doesn’t sleep well anyway.

Scouts. He’ll send scouts most likely. Knights like Minho or Hyunjin.

Ugh, the mere thought of Hyunjin finding you a second time makes you nauseous.

Except, the longer you consider it, King Bahng is the worst case scenario.

I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.

Those words send an entourage of chills slithering up your spine, and not from the cold.

Because while Hyunjin is a type of spiteful strong you want to avoid primarily due to how annoying it is, King Bahng is a quiet strong, the kind that wouldn’t confess his anger, but have you witness it firsthand instead.

Enough thinking. You have to go.

Using the bumpy roots below you for leverage, you wind a leg around the horse’s back, aiming to reach the edge of the territory before midday.

That was the goal, until you’re pummeling to the ground.

The moment is instantaneous, your horse releasing a shriek as it’s swiped right off its feet, slipping onto hard, icy ground and simultaneously crushing you in its descent.

Almost like vomit you feel the screech of pain building in your throat, a numbness in your right leg along with the warmth of blood soaking your clothing doing little to sustain level breathing.

Then, in the midst of your hysterics, you look upon the visible side of your horse, a pair of claw marks scratched right across its stomach.

Scrambling out to the best of your abilities, you bite your tongue, praying this is one of Hyunjin’s sick, sadistic games and not an obvious ambush.

You refuse to die like this. You’ve survived once and you’ll be damned to give up now.

“I’m impressed. You’re not as weak as I thought.”

A sneering tone speaks from behind you. According to the claw marks, Beast, but not one you remember. And with your current state—being unable to rise to your feet—you’re utterly incapable of ascertaining an identity.

Instantly, your hand reaches up to trace the alcove beneath your ear and neck, any ounce of hope disappearing upon feeling for the salve.

Gone.

“Now, care to tell me what a Mage is doing in Beast territory?”

He’s hiding behind you on purpose, drawing you into a sensory overload, a panicked frenzy of adrenaline and fear.

Deer caught in headlights.

A curved claw unlike those in the Kingdom of Beasts winds your head back, staring straight into the face of something you can hardly deem Beast, more like wolf.

He has this terrifying look in his eyes, and breath that stenches of metal and flesh.

This man is the kind of Beast you’d grown up believing in. Violent, merciless.

Minho, Hyunjin, hell, anyone. Please.

As if second instinct, you assess everything around you, snatching the closest stick to you and jarring the sharp end through the bottom of his chin with all your might.

A gagged, sort of howling sound emits from above you, putrid-smelling blood spraying all over your face.

In split seconds does another form appear in your peripheral, your dread heightening before ultramarine stills the horror in its tracks.

King Bahng.

He’s quiet, expertly slicing the back of the neck, the attacker dropping to the ground motionlessly.

“I could’ve handled it myself.”

It’s a lie. He doesn’t respond.

If the first Beast hadn’t killed you, he certainly would. He said it himself, whenever he pleased, he could break you.

So when King Bahng’s arms extend toward your position on the ground, you prepare for the worst, crawling backwards as quickly as possible.

Surprisingly, he kneels down in front of you, and, as your vision clears, you notice the concern written on his face.

Weird, the feeling compiling in your gut as he looks at you like that. The way your eyes build with tears, lungs finally hacking for as much non-congested air available without a single word said.

Just by his expression alone, you’re a fit of blood and tears, the aftershock hardly helping ease the experience.

Crying, in the middle of a forest, with King Bahng as a witness.

“I know, I know,” Is all he whispers, and you barely recognize when he hoists you into his arms, the searing sting of your leg your only indication of movement.

Smoothly maneuvering you again his chest, he cradles your body close, one hand directing his horse as you ride back to what you assume to be the Kingdom.

Through the aching pain, you can’t even be upset about returning, merely focusing on the subtle warmth of his body and the strength willing you to say something.

“You speak nothing of this moment,” You murmur, the King’s body erupting into a tremor of laughter.

“I speak whatever I like whenever I like, sweetness. No one touches what’s mine, yeah?”

Mine. You hate the effect he has on you.

Yet, your snarky remarks are depleting in tandem with your energy; the soothing, shushing sound he’s making and the repetitive thump of hooves doing little to keep you from sleeps tempting beckon.

Eyes drifting closed, his tightened grip pulls you closer, your cheek smushed into the fabric of his coat whilst lost in slumber.

“Hold on a bit longer for me, we’ll be there in no time.”

Recovery, to your luck, is swift. Either that, or Kim Seungmin is secretly a Mage, because within a week spent off your leg, you’re back to normal.

A little sensitive to weight, but overall, healed.

Initially, despite the agony blazing through your body, you were thankful you barely recalled seeing anyone, swept into the apothecary immediately.

The last thing you wanted to see after returning would be the faces. Plus, what about your friends? Jeongin, Felix, Han? You’re sure they looked destroyed.

Except, it’s all fake. A feign kindness given to you only by sympathy. What do the faces matter anyway?

You gorge that question to the very back of your throat when said Cook walks through the apothecary’s door, utmost apprehension apparent. He grabs your face, brows knit—but not in an angry sort of way, more like staving-down-tears.

“Don’t you ever do something like that ever again.”

Past him, you can’t help but smile seeing Seungmin’s softened expression watching Felix, adoring his preciousness just as you are.

“I promise.”

Nodding curtly, he turns around, leaving you to view the many ingredients scattered across his apron.

He rushed here, cute.

“I’ll bring breakfast down here.”

Craning, you can barely make out his deep voice, lowered to a nearly inaudible decibel. Ears flushed pink, you’re filled with a worrisome amount of happiness seeing Felix’s embarrassment trying to maintain an upset facade.

“Hm? What was that?”

Ah, at this point you’re picking fun.

“I said I’ll bring breakfast down here.”

Precipitously slipping outside, both you and Seungmin are left to stifle your bubbling laughter, graced with the most appetizing platter you’ve had the pleasure of eating a few minutes later.

However merciful those first few days were, dissipated. And in a short amount of time, you could feel the eyes boring into your back, the questions resting on the tip of tongues.

All the same, nobody mentioned it. And if anything, that made the paranoia grow.

It was gradual. The subtle shadow you swore you saw in corners, the terror stopping your heart in your chest when you swear someone breathed down your neck.

Your body may be healed, but your mind certainly isn’t.

To a degree that two weeks later, you’ve found sleep nearly impossible, lingering in the kitchen in the wee hours of morning, teetering on your wits end.

Some occasions it’s Felix who you see first, wiping the sleep from his eyes, loading coal into the furnaces to heat the kitchen for the day. Other days it’s handmaids, shuffling around busily, carrying goods to and fro.

This time, Minho arrives first, for once wearing regular clothing opposed to his usual armor, steaming saucer in clutch.

Perhaps this is an opportunity, he is a knight after all.

“Hey Minho?”

Tired eyes sweep to your figure on the table, the rim of his cup held to his lips.

“I’m too paranoid and at this point I might die of sleep deprivation,” You huff, referring to his raging, bed-headed self . “…Could you teach me how to use a sword?”

He’s staring at you like you‘ve grown two heads, pulling a chair back to settle in, arms crossed over his chest.

No sentences need to be said aloud, merely spectating the gears turning in his head enough to set your nerves on edge.

Yet, in the midst of your waiting, you note a peculiar bruise peeking from his collarbone, another lingering a tad bit lower.

“And you think a sword is going to protect you?”

The question is genuine, lacking the bemused nature you were expecting.

Another thing you’ve noted throughout your sleepless nights was the continuous amount of times you’d watch the King’s Advisor sneak into his quarters, a realization keeping your response baited.

Seems his love life isn’t a concern.

“Hey, those marks on your neck and shoulder, are those from Ha—“

“When do you want to train.”

All lightheartedness vanishing, you have to chew your lip to avoid ticking him off further by giggling.

“Tomorrow?”

Pushing in his chair with an agreeable hum, you merely whisper a hurried “Thank you” he grunts at, rushing off to who knows where and giving you leeway to recover from the hilarity of it all.

Tomorrow, however, came far too early, not anticipating to be woken up at the crack of dawn, grumpy enough the prospect of blackmailing the King’s Advisor became dangerously tempting.

Yeah, good luck. He’s not budging until you’re on your feet.

Seems you underestimated Han Jisung’s stubbornness.

Rushed into a loose gown, you’re led to the Inner Ward, an open sector in the middle of the castle.

Upon being met with a too-smug Minho, you can practically see the word “payback” hovering above his head, busying himself with fetching supplies.

Perhaps this is karma coming back to bite you.

Ouch.

Except, you’re puzzled. You’re being taught how to deul, yet your teacher isn’t adorning armor nor gear of any kind.

At your confusion, the knight chokes a cocky guffaw.

“First, we learn how to properly move.” He hands you a wooden sword. “If I so much as leave a scratch on you I’m as good as dead.”

Again, he may appear snarky, but his tone is nothing short of serious. Minho is hard to read.

Wait.

Seeing past your panic, the Beast seems to answer your unspoken question.

“King Bahng is visiting the villages today, he won’t be back till the evening.”

A wave of relief grounds your bones, standing rather pathetically while Minho aids in critiquing your position, instinctively shifting into his own in front of you.

“Now, there are a lot of things to consider when dueling. I’ll narrow things down. Don’t overestimate or underestimate your opponent, trust your gut, be aware of everything, and lastly, do not be afraid to deceive.”

Promptly, he’s lashing out before you can even process his advice, wooden weapon drawn above his head as your grip tightens, attempting to block the strike only for his foot to press into your stomach, sending you falling right onto the ground instead.

“Isn’t that unfai—“

“Like I said, deception is your greatest weapon. In a game of swords, it doesn’t matter how dirty it’s won, it matters who won.”

He reaches a hand out for you to take, helping you back up again only to both fall back into your stances.

“Keep in mind, your sword isn’t your only weapon.”

Minding his instruction, you continue onward, sparring heartily till the beating afternoon sun becomes too hot to bask in any longer. Amongst the four hours you had been consumed in training, you’ve snagged certain valuable points.

Calmness is crucial. Your mind streams clearer when you parried, void to the opponent’s increasing frustration—given an advantage of both agility and focus.

Two, unpredictability is a gift. Minho is especially good at being unpredictable.

Whether he charges headfirst or aims the forte of his sword toward particularly weak points, you begin to mimic his performance, growing closer and closer to conquering those signature tactics.

Of course, your enjoyment can only last for a bit before it spoils.

Spoiling as in, Hwang Hyunjin’s random appearance, sauntering into the area as if he’s King himself.

“Well look at this, didn’t think I’d see our runaway and Minho here.”

There’s an air between Minho and Hyunjin, one that forbids Hyunjin from egging his superior on, just like when you were first brought to the Kingdom. Lucky for you, you could be degraded as much as he approved of.

Feigning a dramatic gasp, he gestures to either wooden sword held in raw palms.

“No way, you’re learning how to deul?! Don’t tell me you’ve never learned basic attacks? Oh right, you never had to fight, huh, princess?”

You bite the skin of your cheek, minding your composure.

“You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough.”

Now he’s asking for it.

“Say,” He sneers. “Let’s duel.”

Keeping Minho from intervening, you apologetically nod to his disproving expression. He knows it’s stupid, even while fetching his armor and adjusting the metal plating to your body, and you do too, but you can’t afford to back down, you won’t.

Testing your abilities carrying a legitimate sword this time, Minho grants Hyunjin a terse scowl, their own wordless agreement to tone down on anything too harmful.

Somehow, it grates your nerves further.

Straight away, he charges his right foot forward, the metal colliding with a loud ring, narrowing your body to shield your unprotected side.

Hyunjin, though skillful in his wrist mobility, clearly uses his size compared to you as an advantage, carelessly throwing around his jabs whilst relying on form alone.

You shuffle back and forth continuously, the commotion of metal rifle drawing the attention of Beasts alike throughout the castle, stopping their movements to survey.

Lurching himself forward once more, you will your legs to support you, balancing the crushing force of his pushing ascent with as much strength as possible.

“If you win, you get whatever sensible award you want,” He grits, using pure weight alone to gain higher vantage. “But if I win, you marry King Bahng.”

Suddenly, interrupting your stunned reaction to his proposal, Minho’s reminder breaches your eardrums.

Deception is your greatest weapon.

Honestly, you’re bewildered Hyunjin hadn’t played petty thus far, and you have no doubt he will any moment now.

You can’t afford to waste the opportunity.

Maintaining your gaze targeted on his face, you steal the chance, slipping your sword right beneath his feet, hooking the guard just fast enough to cause his legs to buckle.

The tip of your sword centimeters from his neck, you cock your brows, finding satisfaction in the glare he’s boring into your skin from his spot on the ground.

In a game of swords, it doesn’t matter how dirty it’s won, it matters who won.

“If King Bahng wishes to marry me, he will deul me himself. That decision isn’t up to you.”

Stalling his immediate laughter upon nudging the sharp point right up against his pulse point, you chuckle.

“I might have to do this more often, you’re not bad when you shut your mouth for once.”

Dropping your sword, you reach out a customary hand he rejects, either of you following Minho to the side stalls to return his armory before a haunting voice stops you in your tracks.

“One more match?”

You’d been ignorant to the Kingdom’s sudden burst of energy, the trembling chains of the drawbridge dropping onto cobblestone ground, the gates shifting open.

Having appeared through thin air stands King Bahng, constantly arriving at the worst of timing.

He’s clad in traditional armor, though his has fancier plating, cleaner sheen, azure hues hidden within the gorget.

Your stomach ties itself into a knot, piecing together the details.

“If this is about the deal, I don’t think I-“

“Oh please princess, this was never up to you. We did this for the sake of the Kingdom, you think we ever considered your say in this?” Hyunjin interjects, quickly escorted away by a frowning Minho and an additional guard you don’t recognize.

Huh?

What… What is he talking about? For the Kingdom? What does he mean for the sake of the Kingdom?

Do us all a favor and marry him, will you? Seungmin’s words ricochet in your skull, the parts assembling perfectly into place.

But if I win, you marry King Bahng.

Marriage.

They knew all along. They knew you were set to marry him and yet, no one told you.

If your betrayal had been violently inflicted, you would look like a rag doll. All this time, these moments you thought were glee-filled, hopeful.

Lies.

Tearing the King’s chance to speak from his fingertips, you pick up your sword, denying your shaky, white knuckles and replacing those broken feelings with rage instead.

No, you can’t afford to show weakness. You must replace these feelings as quickly as possible.

No weakness, no mercy.

“Fine, let’s duel.”

“But-“

“Pick. Up. Your. Sword. And fight me.”

Releasing a sigh, he cautiously pulls his own sword from its sheath, waiting to be counted off unlike Hyunjin.

However skillful you’d been before had completely vanished. Though, you would give yourself the benefit of the doubt, this fight meant your future, meant the minuscule bit of freedom you’d gotten to experience here.

The last thing you wished was to realize you had been lied to, but even more so to realize you’ve been lied to in front of the entire Kingdom, curious faces peering from the castle’s allures.

Your swings sloppy, you credit the severity of the blows as you attack and defend, evidently dueling with fatal intent.

You’ve lost this battle, you know it. Your senses are too overwhelmed to assess spatial awareness, and every muscle in your arm cries out for relief.

Swept off of your feet in a repeated cycle to earlier, you accept, sitting below the tip of King Bahng’s sword, your defeat.

Almost automatically, the pieces of pride you’d attained after your victory against Hyunjin amounted to nothing.

You may beat everyone else, but you will never beat this man, now matter how hard you try. The odds will always soar in his favor, and you will suffer the results of it.

This is not a game you’ll win. Because from the beginning, you existed as a marionette, enjoying such naivety till the comprehension as to who controlled the play hit you.

This theatre was particularly unforgiving.

He won.

If your insomnia before was grueling, this was an entirely new extreme.

Averaging a meager two hours per night, you’re positive you’ve memorized the guest list by heart, staring blankly at the crinkled parchment, unblinking.

In a matter of days, the congratulatory ball will be held.

You’ll be attending said ball as the bride.

Weeks ago, the guest list had simply been a past time, a mandatory errand for the King’s Advisor, a ball you weren’t aware, and wouldn’t be aware, was meant for you.

Your chest feels.. sad? Empty?

Yes. Empty is the word. An emptiness gutting you from the inside, the ugly drawback of exhausted options and worthless optimism.

There’s a lot of things to ponder on as well, factors you have to analyze, ensure it wasn’t another stage for an audience you so foolishly performed.

No escape.

Tuesday, two days before the ball, Jeongin drops by your door, carrying a package under his arm and that effortlessly adorable smile gracing picture-perfect features.

“This is for you, from.. um..” The anxious boy stammers, placing the binded package on your room’s veneer.

“You can say his name, Jeongin, I’m not mad.”

He exhales audible relief, slender fingers wrapping around your hand before you can bid him farewell.

“He— The King, he’s a good person.”

You force a tight grimace, agreeing despite your contradicting expression.

Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn’t. You don’t know what to believe anymore.

Slipping from bed once the young boy’s footsteps fade in the distance, you gingerly unwind crimson ribbon, allowing the leather exterior to unfold.

Inside lies a gown.

A gown that, investigating how breathtaking it is, should be considered nothing short of a ball gown the longer you stare.

Designed as a mantua, the white fabrics paired with lace neck frill and engageantes add an elegance you’ve never seen before. Light, subtle blue hides beneath ruffles of the skirt, further accented by equally blue lace strings fastening the back together and outlining the seam of your square-cut stays.

You can only marvel at the gift given by your future husband, wishing so terribly you could simply run into his arms and pretend everything was well.

If only it was under better terms, as if nothing had happened. If King Bahng was another man, it’d be possible.

And Wednesday night, the root of your problems bares his face, knocking at your door while you were under the impression it was Han instead.

Acting as if you didn’t care was much easier around everyone but him, especially when you were halfway into tying the laces of your dress, the dress he had purchased for you.

What awful circumstances.

“Don’t touch me,” You hiss, regarding the man across from you with a frown.

Lifting either hand in the air, he seemingly invites you to figure out the impossible strings yourself, cueing a very aggravated, very futile attempt at tightening the ties of your ball gown before (hesitantly) allowing the man to slip behind you.

Of course you had to choose now to try it on.

His touch irritably careful, he ensures the fabric is snug fitting but breathable, each woven thread in its coordinating pattern.

Where he learned this you have no idea, only aware of how horrific this close proximity is, your restlessness growing unbearable.

Running his tongue over his top teeth, he backs up slightly, taking you in with apparent speechlessness.

He clears his throat.

“I won’t apologize because I know it means nothing to you, but please, let me explain. I intended to tell you, I just-“

He sounds timid, like a child.

A sour, bitter fury froths like bile in your throat. You want to explode.

“No. No. I didn’t want this! I won’t!” You wind around, pointing an accusing finger to his chest. “You killed them all, my family, my loved ones, children. I hate you. I hate you!” Your voice breaks, a gravelly, disgusting drawl raking your throat raw. Salty, burning tears drip down your collarbones.

Grievance. An innumerable stage of sadness you hadn’t reached before now, overflowing.

As he tries calming you down, you only grow angrier, pushing from your path to the door, ripping the handle awry.

Instantly, his arms wrap around your middle, hauling you back as you kick and scream, fingernails digging into any available skin, dress puffing as your legs flail.

Catastrophic.

“No- No!”

You’re certain the entire kingdom can hear you, but that’s the last concern occupying your headspace, too focused on escaping, far off as you had done earlier, anywhere but here.

“Stop crying,” He commands, either hand on your wrist pinning your back to the bed, expression morphed pitifully. His calloused hand swipes the storming rivulets from your cheeks.

“Please, Y/n, please stop crying. It hurts.”

Your response shortens into a simple sob, aching.

“It hurts..?” You murmur, eyes shifting over his face. “…You hurt?”

Incessant crying causing your skin to burn, he only blinks at you.

A fit of anger forms just as fast as it disappeared in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re hurting? You’re the sick son of a bitch that killed my family and took everything I’ve ever loved away, you don’t deserve to hurt!”

Sucking in a necessary inhale, you angrily flail, wrinkling your nose at the careful tilt of his head, the distance of his face from yours, every scar, every pore close enough to see.

What happened to the King who threatened to break you? Why is he pitying you, looking at you with such kindness?

Longing to bring up how useless the deal was, how the benefits of the marriage aren’t your responsibility, you simply glare, emotions a whirlwind you can’t explain, can’t say aloud.

And all he does is stare. Staring like you’ve said nothing at all.

You want to cry out, want to curse him for all eternity, curse those blue eyes that seem to pave a pathway through your soul.

But you don’t. He beats you to it.

“..Do you know why my eyes are blue?”

What?

“Because I’m not fully Beast. My mother was a Mage. She turned against my father after I was born, left us, and vowed to do everything in her power to destroy Beasts.”

Your face contorts nonsensically, his tight hold on your wrists loosening the longer he speaks.

“And I assume,” He redirects your head, forcing you to maintain eye contact.

Rearing deja-vú reminds you of your first encounter.

“No one ever told you Mage’s started the war.”

You scoff.

“Or that the Mage planned to cut off all trade supply simply out of spite. And so, I did what I had to—“

“You did what you wanted to. You killed helpless people because of your own problems, my family had nothing to do with it!” Vocal cords throbbing the louder you scream, you try kicking your legs to no avail.

“Your family, Mage, had everything to do with it. My people would have died-“

“Mine already did. So now what?”

A minuscule pinch occupies his brows.

“You weren’t supposed to be alive.”

“But I am, so you might as well let me join them.”

He sighs, a stray, obsidian strand of hair hanging over his forehead.

“You know I can’t do that.”

You test the words on your tongue, wedging your hand out to grab his face, feeling the dip of his jaw as he sucks in a breath.

When you first met, he had told you he’d break you. This change of heart confuses you, grates more anger in your chest.

“And why is that?”

Opening his mouth, he momentarily closes it, then opens again, contemplating the statement with caution.

He’s right, in some way.

You’re not supposed to be alive, not supposed to be saddened. You were meant to be in the ground with them, be one of the many bodies littering the L/N Kingdom, granted an eternal sleep.

Yet, you aren’t.

You survived, and you despise this man with every fiber of your being for that.

But things cannot change. You can’t bring them back, and his situation is just as painful as yours.

You both lost people, or, would’ve lost people.

An explanation or an apology, as he said, isn’t necessary.

So you’ll get what you want, tangibly.

Forcefully grabbing his chin and jutting him closer to you on the bed, your voice drips with venom, noses mere breadth apart.

“Then end this winter and marry me, Your Highness.”

For a split second you swear his gaze drifts to your lips, but you shake the thought away, his sharp canines glinting off the mirrors reflection.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one to propose?”

“You killed my family, no need for formalities.”

“Care to remind me why you agreed to marry him? Weren’t you planning to kill him?” Felix piques, apron woven around his thin waist, skillfully measuring flour that’s dusted over his nose.

You needed to get your anger out, then devise a plan. Show King Bahng you weren’t going to succumb to his charms, tricks. Ever.

You hum from your spot on the counter, conversing just as you’d done back in your kingdom with Ms. Maewether.

Technically, he was your new Ms. Maewether.

“Oh no, I still plan on killing him, I just want something first.”

Except, you didn’t talk about murder in front of Ms. Maewether. That was new.

He raises an eyebrow.

“And what would that be?”

Snapping your fingers, you cheerily tap your heels against the cabinets below.

“I want to see spring again.”

Silence overcoming the kitchen, it takes Felix a full minute to understand your preposition before bursting into unadulterated laughter. Well, until he realizes. Then he pouts.

“Aw, I was really looking forward to seeing Chris rejected at the altar.” The smaller Beast whines, popping a piece of sugary sweet dough his mouth and handing another to you.

“Hey, now that’s just cruel,” You mumble, muffled by the delicacy you’re currently chewing on.

“According to you yesterday, not really.”

Ah. Right.

“We just… have a lot to talk about.”

The phrase sounds stupid, but it’s true. Logically, emotionally it’s true. There is a lot in need of discussing.

For now, you’re indifferent.

“I’ve always thought you two were similar.”

The cook’s outburst catches you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always wanted to protect what mattered to you most, and maybe, one day, you can understand why he did what he did.”

Leave it to Felix to be your reasonable opinion.

Nevertheless, an invisible barrier rests between you two. A lie. His lie. The Kingdom’s lie.

“Felix, I will never understand why he did it,” You humorlessly chuckle, hopping from your spot. “So tell me, why did you lie?”

All morning you debated the right time to confront him. Tonight was the night, the congratulatory ball, the wedding. Why wait?

Freezing with his back turned to you, he stops mid-slice, dropping the knife atop the cutting board and gradually facing you.

Oh Felix.

His nose flushed pink, lips quivering, you allow him to race forward and hug you, head tucked into your shoulder while you stand there, motionless.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It was decided from the start, but we were told not to tell you, not until King Bahng told you himself.”

You want to tell him it’s okay, make some jokes, act like things are normal. Though your arms stay glued to your side.

“I guess Hyunjin beat him to it, huh?”

His arms tighten around you and, with a sigh, you pat his back, gently nudging him off of you where you can hold that sweet face of his.

“But don’t worry about me, alright? I can handle this, and I forgive you, so let’s move on from this, Lix.” Tenderly rubbing the skin of his cheek, he meekly smiles, an action you can’t help but feel relieved seeing.

You’re strong. You have to be strong. For Felix, for Han, for Jeongin, for your friends throughout the Beast Clan, you’ll be strong. You’ll enjoy wearing the gown regardless of who bought it for you, cherish the wedding no matter the man you’re wedded to.

If you’re going to have to live like this forever, you might as well make the most of it.

On today’s occasion, you’re dressed by a hand maid sent to your quarters, polished and puffed to perfection by the time five o’clock arrives and the banquet officially begins.

And when you see yourself in the mirror, you’re not exactly sure who stares back at you.

She’s pretty, yes, but she isn’t Y/N. She’s a Queen, the Queen of the Beast Clan.

Your stomach wrenches.

By tomorrow, you’ll be married. Married to King Bahng. You will be a wife, the wife of a King just as the L/N Kingdom intended.

The thought continues to plague your mind, sucking more and more oxygen from your lungs that as you’re escorted to the ball room.

You can hardly inhale and exhale normally as Changbin, whom you appreciate enormously, walks you down the aisle, past an abundance of people you’ve never seen before. Beasts, business men, acquaintances alike.

Sensing your panic, your linked arms allow him to spare you a meager glance you anxiously return.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

All previous calmness long dissipated, when you finally redirect your attention from your feet and take in King Bahng waiting at the altar, your rampaging anxiousness increases tenfold.

As the audience claps and either of you turn with your backs facing the crowd, you scorn your lack of a poker face when the King rests a hand on your back.

“Breathe,” He utters, only a whisper you heard.

Wishing to thank him, you bite your tongue, considering the man you’re referring to in the first place prior to replying.

A sharp nod of your head is enough.

Stifling an exhale, you spin on your heel, both bowing to the public before facing each other and holding hands, an action that shouldn’t cause goosebumps to swarm your arms, but does anyway.

“You plan to smash my face in at our wedding?” He murmurs below the customary vows, acknowledging your fingernails digging into his hand.

“Keep giving me ideas and I migh-“

The retort vanishes when he presses his lips to yours, doubling back in shock before his palm on your back keeps you close.

Granting you breathing room if only for an instant, a slow grin tugs at the edge of his lips.

“Then before I die, let me have this first.”

And he dives right back in again, kiss surprisingly tender compared to what you’d expected. Something bruising, dominating.

Instead, the King was soft. Soft as he held your cheek in a hand, soft when pulling you in by the waist.

Separating if only for a fraction of a second, you reach to hold his face, every instinct beckoning you to push him away dissipating into nothing but the nullified drone of your head and the insistent racing of your heartbeat.

“Are you that nervous, pretty? Your heart is-“

You pull him to your lips once more, hating how easy it is to forget, how his lips numb your thoughts—though unable to get enough.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

The guests hollering in your peripheral the lone sound breaching your eardrums, you can’t help thinking.

He did this for his people just as you would’ve done. As for the Mage instigating the war, some secrets shall remain hidden, unable to be answered. You have to accept that among many things.

The King has done nothing but care for you, and as much as you resent him for it, you respect him, if only a tiny bit, as well.

He’s irritable, and not to mention annoyingly handsome. His sympathy-filled eyes might be the death of you, and those dimples of his are stupidly lovable.

But he’s your husband, and somehow, strangely enough, you don’t find yourself hating the thought as much anymore.

Not when he holds you, and especially not when he kisses you as if it’s your last.

After the many hours spent celebrating, you couldn’t have been more enthusiastic about returning to your quarters.

Joined by King Bahng, you find traversing as easy as ever with the help of the (half) Beast behind you, helping navigate past multitudes of people, oddly comforting touch on your back guiding you through the hallways.

Arriving at your room, he pauses, awkwardly shifting his weight on his heels, bewitching gaze flitting left and right, uncharacteristic to his usually smug attitude.

“…Was the kiss too much?”

King Bahng, asking if his kiss was too much?

You wanted to photograph this moment in your mind forever, debating on whether you should tease him about it, egg the normally stoic King on.

However, you tip his chin down, pressing a chaste, soft peck to his lips, amusedly observing him freeze before melting into your touch.

“Could be better.”

He huffs a sigh in response, and you’re left wondering if this is the same man who threatened to break you, the one who now looks like a pouty toddler.

Although, just as you slip by, he takes ahold of your wrist.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You crack a smile.

“Good night Chris.”

And, suppressing your chuckle, you close the door behind you.

Hastily undressing into nightwear and slipping into bed, you stare up at the ceiling, hours passing from the ticking of a clock in the corner, echoing around the room.

Then, abruptly, your door creaks open.

“My gods, what are you doing here?” You whisper into the darkness, the door creaking behind his crouched form, King Bahng’s crouched form.

“I needed to see you.”

Ah. Don’t say things like that.

Pulling the covers further over yourself, you squint accusingly at the man as he enters, silencing your urge to reprimand he saw you mere hours earlier, presumptuously sitting opposite to you.

He scans what’s visible, fixating on your hand for a moment.

“You kept the ring on?”

Noting the gleaming jewel on your ring finger, you can’t help but feel slightly bashful. It’s not like you’re really married, but the thought sends a sort of satisfaction spreading throughout your chest.

“If I take it off, will it become winter again?”

He grins, giggling childishly.

“Is that the only reason?”

Debating on your response, you wet your lips, looking back up at his barely distinguishable face shrouded in darkness.

You have no doubt he’s thriving off your hesitance.

Oh how badly you wish to wipe that look clean, but in reality, keeping the ring on feels as if a part of you from your own kingdom is with you, similar to your old clothing.

The part of you that, if not invaded, would belong to someone loved, newly wedded.

“No,” You mutter, though the phrase is barely audible.

He perks up.

“Hm?”

You regret saying that. But he’s already heard, there’s no use lying aimlessly.

“I said no, that’s not the only reason.”

“Care to tell me the other reason?”

Rapidly averting your attention to your hand, you discover speaking is easier when not looking at him.

“Keeping it on makes me feel like I’m really in love. I like imagining that, being married.”

You miss the sad lilt crossing his face.

“We are married.”

Without missing a beat, you meet his stare.

“Are we?”

Unlike before, there’s no waver to your voice, no caution.

Winding around to your side of the bed, he settles beside your feet.

You clear your throat.

“I wanted to see spring again, and to you, I’m simply a present. A playtoy to your disposal. This isn’t marriage, not how I was taught, this is just a business arrangement.”

Nevertheless, the hurt leaks into your voice. So long to a resilient tone.

“Y/N, don’t do this to me.”

Come to think of it, it’s the first time he’s ever called you by your name apart from last night.

Having had enough of his nonsense, you spring for his collar, dragging him below you on the bed. Opposite to earlier, you’re on top this time, you’re in control.

“You don’t deny it.”

A silence passes.

“I would deny it a thousand times, but you wouldn’t believe me. And I don’t blame you for that.”

He sucks in a breath.

“I only ask you don’t doubt this marriage. This isn’t a business arrangement, and I will treat you with as much respect and love as possible, even if you don’t want me too. That is what marriage is, how I was taught.”

It’s your turn to inhale, lost within the confines of this dark space.

“Chris, do you love me?”

You both have people you love, people you want to protect, wanted to protect. It wasn’t his intention to hurt you, not when he found you after you ran away, not when ordering a salve to keep you safe, nor now, as you lean above him.

Like he told you. You weren’t meant to survive. You were supposed to be peacefully asleep, forever.

This man, this Mage, this Beast, is as much a murderer as your savior. You choose how to condemn him.

“I do, more than you could ever imagine.”

How can you stay mad at a guilty man, a man who kept you alive when you were on the brink of death? Who now professes to loving you, wanting to give you a marriage you’d been cheated of, give you everything you’ve been cheated of with everything in his power.

Hovering right by his lips to the point your chests touch, you place a miniature kiss there.

“I hate you, so much.”

Then another kiss.

His arms, wrapped around your more elevated form, drag you down in an embrace. One hand presses your face to his shoulder, another rubbing circles on your back.

“And I’m so sorry, I’m so, so, sorry.”

Raising up, you can’t contain the tremor of your lip, the way your eyes shakily close shut as you steal a third kiss from his lips, a kiss he returns, hands carefully holding each side of your face.

“Chris?” You manage, currently straddling his lap, his body resting against the headboard.

Kindly, he keeps a palm against your lower back, helping you balance.

“Can you show me what it means to be loved?”

You never understood how a person could melt until this moment. He wears that look again, like in the forest. The look that makes you cry.

What love looks like for Christopher Bahng, you don’t know. You have no doubt there will be ugly moments, moments you’ll reconsider, rethink.

You’re both hurt, some wounds still hurting. But for him, for you, you’re willing to take that chance.

“I’d be honored.”

FIC TAGLIST. @stayceebs97 @duhgirl @yourgirljanvi @readr1221 @spearbinnie0327 @hyunjinsartpeice @cheesytangerine @palindrome969 @luminouskalopsia @kiaralynn3838 @chrizztopher97 @starlost-andfound @weeping-angel-in-the-tard1s @zaggprincess2

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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taetr4ck · 15 days

Text

connected

bang chan x reader, 0.4k words, no warnings — fluff, comfort. taglist form.

a/n : made a little comfort fic for those who needed it :) i hope you enjoy 💌

“Ah.”

Chan smiles at the scene before him. It left him in a stupor when no one responded to him after he called your name several times upon arriving at the doorstep earlier, assuming you'd already slept. He swears he feels his heart melt after seeing you in a state like this, your head resting under your arm, with papers, pens, and highlighters scattered all over your desk. Your tablet is still on, playing faint music that seemed to disconnect from your headphones earlier. He feels his heart might burst right at this moment after seeing the title of the song playing on the lock screen of your tablet — connected.

“I think I might pass out right at this spot,” he says to himself. There's something lovely about your disheveled state. The bare, vulnerable side you show him every time you find yourself in a state like this – eyes all baggy and hair still messy from yesterday. He's convinced of the depth of your trust, seeing how willingly you reveal your vulnerable side to him – and all he desires is to shield you and tenderly care for you each time you reveal this part of yourself. He would stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you he’s not afraid of your dark.

He gently lifts you from your chair, carrying you to the shared bed. You almost stir awake, but he tries his best not to wake you up.

“Shh, love, it’s me. You’re okay. You fell asleep at the desk,” Chan gently calms you down – and you swear his voice resonates like a melody played by the angels themselves.

“What… what time is it?” you rub your eyes, your voice still coated with sleep.

“Time for you to sleep,” he smiles softly, leading both of you to the bedroom.

He then gently lays you on the soft mattress of the cozy bed, where the two of you share your most affectionate moments, reminding you of the constancy of his love. He tenderly covers you with the comforting sheets of the duvet, feeling your soul sink into the embrace of the bed. You swear you've never felt such serenity before, longing for this moment to last an eternity.

“I’ll clean your desk tomorrow, so don’t worry about anything.” Chan gently pulls you closer, running his fingers through your hair as he wraps his arms around your waist.

He gazes at your sleeping face, all peaceful and serene. A smile tugs at his lips as he slowly contemplates what he did to deserve someone like you in his arms, in his life, even. He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, fingers tracing your side. Soon after, he joins you in dreamland.

“Jalja, baby.”

taglist : @agi-ppangx @bluethemoments @ashracha @wonootnoot @skzstarnet @straykidsland @k-labels

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

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yeahspider · 5 months

Text

morning light 🫀

Ve’s note - comfort bang chan fic . alcohol and puke mention . reader is a mess and chan is there to clean her up . sparsely proofread bc im a lil drunk . enjoy !!

you knocked on what you could only hope was his apartment . but with all the liquor in your system you could barely tell if you were even in earth at the moment . your skull pounding and ear throbbing . it felt lien you were still back in the club . surrounded by people who could give a fuck rather you made it home safe or not . you leaned your head against (maybe) chris’ door . your limbs felt so heavy . you should’ve stopped after the second shot . you have work tomorrow morning for gods sake . but with the way life is going it was hard to car about the consequences of your recklessness .

you were dragged out of your spiraling thoughts by the door opening . causing you to go crashing to someone’s chest .

“it’s four in the morning . where have you been ?” you heard the disappointed voice of your roommate chris say . so you had knocked on the right door . nice . finally you did something right . you couldn’t find the words to explain to him what you had been up to all night . and even if you did you don’t have the heart to tell him . you felt him pick your body up . head falling back with the weight of your drunk .

“let’s get you cleaned up .” you could cry at the disappointment that leaked into his sigh . setting you down on what you realized was a toilet you waited until chris tapped your cheek to open your eyes . closing them back up with a groan as the white lights of his bathroom blinded you . you heard him leave as your head continued to spin . you felt the bile race up your esophagus as everyone ounce of liquor you had the past few hours came back up . sobs racked your body as you you headed hurried steps making their way to the bathroom . chris comes careening around the corner at a speed which would be comical if you weren’t thing up your guts right now . his hands found their way to your hair as he moved it out the way . hushing your cries as he rubbed your back . encouraging you to get everything out your system .

after what felt like an eternity . you lifted your head from the bowl to come face to face with a concerned chris . eyes big and watering as you apologized . humiliation filling your veins .

“you’re fine it’s okay don’t worry about it”

but it wasn’t fine . you weren’t fine and you hadn’t been for a long time . you take the cup of water he offers you . gulping down the water hoping it would quench the turmoil in your gut . the next few minutes consisted of chris brushing your teeth , removing your makeup . and helping you change into and old tshirt of his . every tough to your skin was gentle . as if you were glass on the verge of breaking . he tucked you into your bed as you continue to sniffle . as he presses a kiss your forehead and turns to leave you grab his arm . silently begging he’ll catch the hint and lay down with you .

crawling into bed behind you he tucks your body into his own . your head rests on his chest as more sobs leave your body . you feel so protected and cared for and it tears you up inside . he deserves so much more than you could ever give him . kisses are pressed into your hair as you feel the strings of unconsciousness tugging on you .

“it’s okay my love sleep i’ll be here when you wake .”

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids headcanons #stray kids fluff #yeahspider #bang chan x you #bang chan drabbles #bang chan angst #bang chan imagines #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan comfort

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enluv · 8 months

Text

the couples quiz <3

PAIRING! bang chan x fem!idol reader

SYNOPSIS! - back with enluv productions, we have our favorite idol couple to take the enluv couples quiz! - this consist of a multitude of questions asked by each of them to test how well they know their partner! enjoy <3

word count: 3,310 (and it’s all fluff 😁)

genre(s): interview styled writing + video layout chic (?) & so much fluff like it’s so cavity inducing you may need to call a dentist 🤭

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, both idols, profanity, nervousness, and I am pretty sure that’s all! (if I missed something lmk!)

coco’s love note: idea is based off the gq couples quiz videos !! please note that our reader is in an oc group I’ve made :)

[ video preview begins now – our idol couple are shown sitting comfortably in two opposing director chairs ]

Y/N: What’s our contact names on each others phones?

Chan: Oh that’s easy I have her as (he makes quotation marks with his fingers) “Y/N L/N” and in parentheses (he cups his hands to express them) “gf”

[the room falls silent as y/n stares shocked at chan]

Y/N: There’s no way…you’re so lying right? (her eyes are widened with shock)

Chan: Of course I am baby! Why would I ever just have you as your name? I have you as “future ms.bahng” (he smiles proudly displaying his contact name for y/n and her contact photo)

Y/N: I almost threw these cards at you for real Christopher! Don’t ever do that again!

Chan: What’s my contact name?

Y/N: Bang Chan dash Stray Kids. (she stares deadpanned at the camera before giggling at his expression)

Y/N: Now you know how it feels! I have you as “my love” it’s a bit simple but I just really love you.

[ end of preview - the screen cuts back to the couple as they first start the video and it begins ]

Y/N: I’m Cupid’s Y/N!

Chan: and I’m Stray Kids Bang Chan!

Y/N & Chan: and we’re taking the enluv couples quiz!

[the couples quiz logo pops up over them to signify the start of the interview – y/n’s questions are first]

Y/N: What’s an item of yours I always seem to steal?

Chan: Oh that’s obvious, she always steals my hoodies. All the colorful ones go to her!

Y/N: Correct! His fans always tell him to wear color but I think I’ve stolen everything with a decent amount of color on it…oops? Sorry stays!

Y/N: What’s something I always bring with me on tour?

Chan: Hmm well there are a few ways to go about this. You could be asking like sentimental items or like necessities.

Y/N: I wrote a list so if the items you guess are on it I’ll give you a point.

Chan: Oh god. (he shakes his head and looks up to show he’s thinking) I would say probably your first aid kit bag. She’s pretty clumsy and needs to have a band-aid on her at all times.

Chan: Oh also probably our son. Oh! I know the most important one is definitely your headphones. You don’t ever leave the house without them.

Y/N: Channie I think you need to elaborate on what our son means (she laughs pointing towards the production team) because they seem worried.

Chan: Oh right. Y/N and I have matching plushies that we won each other on our…hmm I think it was our fifth date? I took her to an arcade and they had claw machines. She got me a psyduck plushie it’s really big and I got her a bunny plush. We call them our sons and usually I’ll take the bunny and she takes psyduck. We care for them equally though! We aren’t absent parents!

Y/N: Okay you were right about all of those, you’re missing one thing though. This one is the most important one.

Chan: Babe…I thought I hit them all seriously…gimme a hint pleaseee….

Y/N: It’s something you gave me.

Chan: I’ve given you a lot of things Y/N.

Y/N: Can I just tell you?

Chan: No! I wanna guess.

[a compilation of chan guessing is played in x2 speed, y/n continues to answer no as he guesses]

Chan: I give up! Tell me.

Y/N: It’s my bracelet! (she laughs softly at his expression)

Chan: Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot about our bracelets!! (he holds up his right hand so the camera can see) We have bond bracelets!

Y/N: When you touch them it sends the other person a small vibration and it means that we’re thinking of or miss the other. They’re really nice since we work a lot and don’t see each other as often as we’d hope.

Chan: I touch mine a lot.

Y/N: Mhm he does, but so do I so I’d never complain.

Y/N: Have I ever written a song about you? And if the answer is yes, which one is my favorite.

Chan: Yeah, plenty of them.

Y/N: Woah okay no need to expose me sir.

Chan: Babe I’m not exposing anything, it’s kinda obvious…

Y/N: Just answer the question Chris.

Chan: “two souls” is your favorite and I know that because you worked on it for almost three months then gave it to me on my birthday.

Y/N: He’s right. That song is my baby, it’s so personal but I just really love it so much. He kept trying to sneak into my laptop to listen to it but I caught him every single time! He cried when he first heard it though so it was worth hiding.

Chan: I thought we promised not to talk about that sweetie.

Y/N: Next question!

Y/N: What was my first concert?

Chan: Oh man. I don’t think I know this one babe.

Y/N: Channie I promise I’ve told you the answer to all of these questions.

Chan: Okay can you tell me how old you were?

Y/N: No.

Chan: Please prettty? I think I’ll get it if I know how old you were!

Y/N: I was sixteen almost seventeen. (y/n sends the camera a wink)

Chan: OH! I’ve so got it then. I know it!

Y/N: Okay who was it then?

Chan: It was Seventeen sunbaenim!

Y/N: Ding ding ding! Correct!

Chan: I always forget how big of a carat you are seriously. She loves them. The kids are friends with them so it’s wild to see her interact with them.

Y/N: I’m good friends with them now, perks of being an idol, they always tease me too.

Chan: Who did you bias?

Y/N: Some secrets should never see the light Channie.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite food?

Chan: It’s Chipotle but you get the most mundane thing ever so you always throw in a side of chips and queso because you’re scared the workers roll their eyes when they see your order.

Y/N: That…what oddly specific…why did you expose me like that omg…embarrassing!

Chan: Babe you recite exactly what I just said every time you order Chipotle, literally word for word I know it by heart now.

Y/N: Feels like he’s attacking me a bit right guys (y/n turns to the cameras as if asking the audience)

Chan: I am not! You have said that to me a million times! It’s seriously engraved in my head.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite song that you’ve written that’s about me?

Chan: I know the answer but if I say it then fans are going to have a field day on twitter.

Y/N: How would you know? Been on twitter recently Chris?

Chan: (he stares at the camera and winks) I don’t have twitter, you know, idol things and all those logistics.

Y/N: Should we answer the question together?

Chan: Stop cheesing so hard, you did this on purpose didn’t you.

Y/N: Yes I did. Ready? 3…2…1!!!

Chan & Y/N: Red Lights

Y/N: What can I say! It’s a good song.

Chan: Is it my turn yet? I need to seek revenge.

Y/N: NOPE! Still me!

Y/N: How many pets do I have and can you tell me in which order I got them?

Chan: This is terrible because she had pets even before getting with me.

Chan: Okay here it goes. You have three pets, first one is Pickles, he’s a greyhound. Next would be Peanut, he’s a fish and he has a brother named Jelly. They count as one because they’re a pair, and finally we have Kimchi and that’s our gecko, I named him. (he smiles proudly at the camera)

Y/N: Four points! Wow babe good job!

Chan: What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t know our kids names?

Y/N: So true like imagine you forgot one I’d be so mad.

Chan: I know that’s why I got them all right.

Y/N: What’s my dream wedding look like?

Chan: I also know this answer, we talk about it a lot.

Chan: You want a small wedding with the most important people in your life, so like family and friends but also people who have helped you in your career as well. You want a summer wedding and want a pastel creamy green color to be the theme. It’ll be inside but you really liked the forest vibe from Twilight so the inside will be decorated to look like the woods.

Y/N: Okay woah. Do you have access to my Pinterest or something?

Chan: You say that like we don’t talk about getting married all the time. (he smacks his lips playfully at her)

Y/N: I am in love with you, seriously like on god dude.

Chan: Stop saying on god after you tell me you love me, we talked about this!

Y/N: He doesn’t like it because he says it sounds like I’m talking to a brother.

Chan: You sound like my nineteen year old sister!

Y/N: and I love her very much! We went shopping last time we went to visit them.

Chan: and you bought her $800 shoes.

Y/N: What can I say, I love all the bahngs!

Y/N: Last question Chris, let’s see if you get this one right! What was my first impression of you!

Chan: Oh you’re going there? I see how it is. (he fixes himself to sit straight up and looks at the camera) Our fans don’t know this story but Y/N hated me.

Y/N: (laughing to herself and gesturing to the crew again) They look so confused! He made it sound so bad, I just thought he was one of those really weird guys because, so basically we met at an award show and his group, Stray Kids, had been seated next to us.

Chan: We were so close we could touch arms.

Y/N: No truly! And it was funny because his entire group, and if you don’t know, they have eight members in total, all got up and went to the bathroom together. All eight of them! It was hilarious, I’d never seen any group do that!

Chan: We like to stay together. Safety in numbers!

Y/N: They came back after a while and almost missed getting their award. It was just so odd to me at the time but after that we started talking as the show went on and I thought he was super sweet and obviously he cares for his members.

[the couples quiz logo pops onto screen as the video depicts chan at the center, he flashes an excited smile at the camera]

Chan: Is it finally my turn? I’ll be honest I don’t have that many questions…but they’re pretty hard to answer. I don’t know if Y/N will be able to get them right.

Y/N: Don’t antagonize me Christopher! I know everything about you.

Chan: We’ll see about that.

Chan: First question! Before we went on our first date I had originally planned something else but it fell through, what was it and why didn’t we do it?

Y/N: Woah you’re going BACK.

Chan: Mhm, answer the question baby.

Y/N: This is a funny story that not everyone knows actually. Chan loves doing crazy things like he doesn’t do traditional dates ever, it’s always something outrageous that you least expect.

Chan: I want things to be memorable, plus if I have free time I don’t want to spend it sitting around, I want to go out and do things.

Y/N: He originally wanted to take me bungee jumping, (the camera pans to a laughing chan and the staff can be heard gasping) can you believe that! Bungee jumping for a first date!

Chan: It would have been memorable though, right?

Y/N: Yeah definitely. It didn’t happen though because he heard from a mutual friend of ours, Minnie, that I was really scared of heights.

Chan: I canceled the day super quick, the date was in two days and I called and had to cancel but I was honestly grateful I found out because imagine if I hadn’t known and took her to it? Memorable first date but not in a good way!

Y/N: I think maybe now I’d do it, but only if he’s with me because I trust him the most.

Chan: Wait really? Wait we’ll talk about this later, finish the story!

Y/N: Right! He took me swimming instead, it was a indoor private pool place and it was so much fun. He actually taught me how to swim.

Chan: It’s one of my favorite memories because I just knew I’d be asking her to be my girlfriend.

Y/N: Stop I’m going to cry if we get into this again!

Chan: I told her this last time we talked, how I knew she was the one for me our first date. She cried and then called her mom to tell her.

Y/N: My parents love him, maybe more than me to be honest.

Chan: What was the first achievement we got as a group that made me feel like I had made it?

Y/N: This feels like a trick question.

Chan: I promise it’s not.

Y/N: There are two answers because your first win is so memorable that I’d pick that one but you also always say you haven’t made it, because you’re still going, still reaching and setting goals and achievements for yourself.

Chan: You worded that perfectly. She’s right. First win on a music show was huge for us but honestly as a group we have a lot of goals and want to achieve them all, I don’t know if we’re ever going to truly feel like we’ve made it but seeing our fans celebrate our achievements always makes it feel like we’re heading in the right direction.

[the camera shifts and pans to y/n running her thumb on the back of chan’s palm, she whispers something in his ear before they continue]

Chan: What was my favorite sport growing up?

Y/N: Easy! It was swimming and you were really good at it.

Chan: Don’t say that they’re going to believe you.

Y/N: Babe I’ve seen those awards your mom has lining the walls of your house, trust me, you were good.

Chan: My dad owns a swim school so I swam a lot as a kid and naturally went on to compete at meets and stuff. If I wasn’t here doing this, I’d be a swimmer.

Y/N: He’s really good at it, and he taught me how to swim so like he’s a good teacher too.

Chan: I can’t believe I taught you to swim that memory is so engraved in my mind.

Y/N: Mine too! I could not learn for the life of me and then suddenly on my first date with him he taught me. That should tell you how good he is at swimming.

Chan: I don’t know if I’m good now but back then I wasn’t terrible.

Y/N: My boyfriend is so humble!

Chan: What’s one thing that you hate that I do but I love it?

Y/N: Sleeping in the recording room?

Chan: (he lets out a sarcastic laugh) Ha Ha Ha. Close but no.

Y/N: I don’t know, I don’t hate anything you do honestly.

Chan: Want me to tell you?

Y/N: You so want to tell me.

Chan: I do.

Y/N: Tell me.

Chan: It’s when I spend too long in the studio, so long that you have to come get me.

Y/N: You’re so….(she’s cut off by chan’s laughter)

Chan: Let me explain before you blast me in front of everyone!

Y/N: Mmm…go on…

Chan: I know you hate coming to get me but some of my favorite times are when you come because then we spend hours together listening to things I’ve made or messing around and recording things. It’s nice to have you so interested in what I do because I love you and I love music, it’s like my two favorite things are interacting and meeting one another.

Y/N: I hate you so much! You know I’m a sap, I’m going to cry you meanie, that’s so cute what even is this!

Chan: My revenge worked!

[the video cuts to the next clip and the viewer can see that y/n now has a tissue in hand]

Chan: Next question, who gave me advice when we first started getting to know each other and dating?

Y/N: Was it not one of the boys? You said you told binnie first no? So I’d assume him.

Chan: Nope! Guess again.

Y/N: No? Hmm I don’t know…maybe one of your other idol friends?

Chan: It was actually our choreographer.

Y/N: What? Really? Why?

Chan: They saw how stressed I was because I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend officially and it was making me distracted so they sat me down and made me spill what was bothering me. Funny too because when I told them they told me to just go for it, and I did and then later on they told me they were glad I had because I looked so much happier.

Y/N: Wow this tissue is being used to its fullest today. I am making a mental note to buy them anything they want right now like wow, imagine if they had never told you to just do it. Where would we be?

Chan: Still sneaking around to hang out as “friends” probably.

Chan: Final question, what’s the title of our new collab song coming out?

Y/N: Oh you’re terrible, did you even get permission to reveal this?

Chan: No but I feel like it’ll, a) this will be out by the time we announce it or b) I don’t have a plan B since I’m hoping plan A is successful!

Y/N: Stay please pray for your leader, he’s so going to get us in trouble for this!

Chan: Don’t say that pretty, have some faith in me.

Y/N: Our collab song is called “Here for you,” and it was written and produced by us.

Chan: It’s a love song if you didn’t guess that.

Y/N: I think they got that one babe.

Chan: Making sure they know it!

Interviewer: Can you tell us a little about the song?

Y/N: Well like Chan said, it’s a love song. It’s about finding the right person and immediately knowing they’re the one.

Chan: Immediately knowing they’re your person.

Y/N: We wrote it one night in the studio after fighting, nothing huge but we both had a bad day and it was intense, when you’ve been with someone for a while you have those days you know? He wrote something down to blow off some steam and so did I. We realized that we’d wrote one half of a song each. Then we put it together, fixed it up and made it that night.

Chan: It’s a really special song to us both, that’s why I’m so excited to announce it.

Y/N: We’re really excited to have you all listen to it.

Interviewer: Well thank you both for coming. We appreciate you making some time for us!

Y/N & Chan: Thanks for having us! (they send a smile to the camera and bow in thanks to the crew)

Y/N: We had a lot of fun today, really thank you.

Chan: Maybe we will come back in like ten years, married, and all that and do it again!

[ the camera zooms out and in fades the couples quiz logo, you can see the couple as they whisper to one another after the director yells “cut” ]

ENLUV EXTRA:

Chan: Why do I love Y/N? That’s a big question to ask, and if I named all the reasons we’d be here for a long time, to put it simply she’s my soulmate, I don’t think there is anyone else in the world more right for me than her. She’s caring, fun, creative, so many more things and it’s like wow, people do exist like her out there and I was lucky enough to find her? She must be my soulmate.

Y/N: Why do I love Chris? Hmm let me think. As a society I know we don’t believe in soulmates, and for a long time I put no thought into them you know? But meeting Chan and being able to experience the love he gives, has honestly changed that for me. I don’t think there is anyone out there more perfect for me than him. I can’t put into words why I love him but I can try to describe it. It’s like when you find a new favorite thing to obsess over, and that becomes something you love so dearly but in the case of me and Chan, it’s that feeling on and on, it never falters and my love for it stays consistent.

[ the video ends with a black screen fading out the image of y/n from frame ]

coco’s <3 note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! I’ve been talking about this fic for almost three months now 😭 and finally it’s done! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I do :) Thank you @odxrilove for being my beta reader for it! I love you wifey 😻🫶🏽 As always, feedback & rbs are always appreciated!

SKZ TAGLIST! - @cherry-bushes @en-fvr @nikis-mum @bloom-bloom-pow @kyublr @enhacolor @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @vatterie @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @haechan-nahceah @mnwrld @queen-klarissa

— Want to be tagged? Check out THIS post!

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kaciidubs · 3 months

Text

Hair Journey

❣ Summary: If he had to choose one thing he adored the most about you, it was your hair. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 2.6k ❣ Warnings: Black! Reader, fluff, slice of life, comfort, Chris has insecurity over his hair, hair talk, low self esteem, slight humor, discussion of future family ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Chris is referred to as Christopher, Chris, Baby, and Channie, Reader is referred to as Baby ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Christopher loved you more than words could ever describe - there weren’t enough languages in this universe that could even begin to express the hold you had on his heart; from the top of your head to the very soles of your feet, he adored you.

Of course, if asked about any particularly favorite parts about you, he would always start with your smile, something that was just so undeniably you it made his heart soar - or, for a non-physical attribute, he would choose your voice, reminiscing on the way your warm tone would guide him out of his loud thoughts, and how your soft whispers would lure him to sleep better than any ASMR could try.

However, the part of you he adored the most was your hair, something he never thought he’d ever find himself caring about on a person until he met you.

He could still remember the first day you met, how he found himself getting lost in the beautiful, ringlet curls that framed your face and seemed to defy gravity everywhere else. A few weeks down the line he’d encounter you again, but this time the curls he’d dreamt of were nowhere to be seen, instead, in their place were beautiful braids done up into a ponytail - but, what truly caught his eye, and ears, were the captivating sounds of the beads decorating the ends.

Mentally, he swore he would use the sound they made when they clacked together whenever your head would move with each laugh he charmed out of you in a song one day.

Eventually, he would get used to seeing you with a different style every other time you’d meet, and when you eventually got together and subsequently moved in with him, he found himself absolutely excited over learning your routines, and how they differed to his.

He’d learned that ‘wash day’ didn’t only reference laundry, and realized why whenever that time came around, you claimed you’d be busy the whole afternoon; it was truly a day, and the act of simply watching you go about your routine - with your permission, of course - had him feeling like he had gone through the carefully carried out tasks of detangling, washing, and detangling once more.

Not to mention the time variation of either styling your hair from that point, or the arm numbing job of blow drying your hair in preparation for the appointment he’d always convince you to let him pay for - there was no way he could let himself not cater for you, especially after seeing the dedication it took to even prepare for it.

Hair appointments - those were probably the days he looked forward to the most, seeing the grand reveal of what style you chose to pamper yourself with for the next month or so. It didn’t matter to him if it was the simplest blowout, or the wonderfully blended tones of extensions set into twists or braids or locs or even a weave - which he was both amazed and terrified of when you’d first told him of the installation process, but you kissed his worries away as you reassured him that it was something you were completely fine with.

It had taken an embarrassingly long amount of time to find a hairdresser who was able to provide for your hair needs, but it was all worth it in his eyes whenever he’d get a notification on his phone while he was at work; a simple selfie with your new do and the following text ‘you like it?’.

Thus, followed a blush that crept onto his ears, and the flying of thumbs across his screen as he gushed about how beautiful you looked while trying not to giggle like a giddy schoolboy - something his ever loving members never failed to point out.

In the end, no matter how many styles you’d have done, his favorite sight would always be when your hair was in its natural state; fluffy curls trained after a simple twist out that always left the apartment smelling like your products, pomegranate and honey following after you like the fresh waft of a freshly baked pie.

He loved your curls, and he’d never forget to remind you whenever he had the chance, they were the purest form of you, and nothing would ever surpass that in his heart.

But, his love for your hair seemed to be a double edged sword with the hatred of his own.

Well, hate was a strong word, but he wasn’t in love with his hair like he was with yours - your hair was beautiful, lively, cared for in a capacity he wished he had done for himself, but sadly he could only do so much when it came to his own head.

He leaned against the bathroom doorway as he watched you carefully take down this week's twist out, oiled fingers gently tugging and untwisting the sections as you went, eyes trained on your own reflection in the mirror.

“Channie, if you keep staring at me like that, you’re gonna burn a hole in the side of my face, baby.” You teased, turning your head to catch his eye with a glittering smile.

Shrugging, he didn’t even try fighting the smile that graced his lips as he stepped further into the shared bathroom, “I can’t help it, I was lucky enough to have a girlfriend as beautiful as you, it feels like a crime to not stare.”

Your shoulders shook in a light laugh as you shook your head, fluffing out the root of the twist to make sure it was fully undone, “You’re too much for me, you flirt.”

As you went back to tending to your hair, he took his new place by the counter to continue watching from an up close perspective.

Eventually all of your twists were out, and you started the next step of separating and fluffing to give your hair more volume, lips pursed as you thought of the final layout.

“I love your hair.” Chris breathed softly, utterly awestruck with the way some strands bounced back into place as you tugged and pulled.

A small smile curved your lips, “I love your hair too, baby.”

His heart clenched as the voice in his head suddenly came to life, refuting your statement like it was a debate based on false pretenses.

“You do? I thought you liked the orange?” He brushed a strand of black away from his forehead, recalling the night he decided to dye it black since his roots had been showing more than the orange could pass up.

“I mean, I did, but you know me,” shrugging lightly, you gave him a warm side eye, “your hair looks good in any color in my eyes, and as long as you like whatever style you’re going for, and it’s healthy, that’s all that matters.”

“So, if I said I wanted to cut-”

“Aht- Don’t even say those words, be quiet.”

He laughed at your diversion, fully aware of how you liked it when he had at least enough to run your fingers through, “I’m kidding, baby, I’m safe from the scissors… for now.” Running a hand through his hair, he sighed softly as he leaned further against the countertop.

If only it wasn’t curly…

“What?”

Chris froze, eyes widening while a rush of embarrassment washed over him - did he seriously say that out loud?

Clearing his throat, he shook his head, “I- Nothing, it wasn’t anything important.”

Of course, he couldn’t expect you to not notice the subtle change, not when his eyes fell from your face to focus on the small rips in his jeans, fingers looping through the threads nonchalantly.

“Chris?”

Guilt sunk his shoulders as he slowly looked up at you once more, his heart clenching at the worried dip of your eyebrows and the soft pout of your lips.

“Baby, do you really not like your curls?”

You’d been through the surface of this topic every now and then, from the introduction of his personalized hair care to the worried, late night discussions of the state of his hair and the reaction of stays whenever the stylists would introduce a new hair color for a comeback, or his own experimentation - but, you never thought his woes ran this deep.

“I… I mean…” He scrambled for an excuse, something to rationalize his completely irrational thoughts, but his mind ran dry and he sighed, “A little bit? It’s just- I showed you what my hair used to look like before, back when it was healthier, and my curls were easier to deal with because they were fine! I was used to dealing with them as often, but now it’s like… I don’t even know how to style my normal hair anymore and it’s aggravating because if I keep treating it, it’s just going to make things worse, you know?”

Now it was your turn to sigh, turning on the faucet to wash off the product from your hands before drying them with a paper towel, “Have I ever told you how I got my hair to the point that it’s at?”

Pausing, he wracked his brain for any hint of a memory, but when he came up empty he shook his head.

“Alright, well, I didn’t always have my natural hair,” you leaned your hip on the countertop, “at some point when I was young, my mom started to perm my hair - a perm that makes your hair straighter, easier to manage, especially for a little girl back in the day, perms were everywhere.”

Chris scanned your features, trying his best to imagine a version of you without the curly mane he’d loved so much; even when you straightened your hair or got a weave, he knew your curls would always come back eventually.

“Back then, I didn’t really think too much about my hair because I was still young, you know? As long as I had pretty barrettes, or, eventually, long straight hair like the girls I saw on TV, I was perfectly fine - then I got into high school and things changed.” A soft smile curled your lips, “One of my friends told me how she was going ‘natural’, and when I learned that she wasn’t perming her hair anymore and was letting her natural hair grow out, I wanted to do the same thing! I was tired of sitting in the kitchen chair with those gross smelling chemicals in my hair, and her hair was shorter, but prettier - she looked more like herself and I wanted that too.”

Despite how long ago the memory was, it still felt fresh whenever you thought of it, recalling the way the signs of your perm wearing off started to show, and how your hair slowly started to change with each passing week thereafter.

“Long story short, I went through a lot of stages with my hair, from straight, to this awkward phase of straight hair and fuzzy roots because I refused to cut my hair, to the first time I thought I found my true curl pattern, to the time I actually found my pattern and started feeling like I was me - no longer trying to fit an image required of me.” You tilted your head slightly, “I know you don’t have complete control over how you’re supposed to be publicly viewed with your hair, and I know how it feels going from something you were used to, to a completely different situation, but you shouldn’t start to hate your natural hair over it - you shouldn’t start to hate yourself over it.”

Chris bristled, taking a sharp breath as he looked down at his hands, his thumb rubbing at the pads of his other fingers anxiously.

Pushing away from the counter, you stepped in front of him, taking his hands in your own, “I understand it’s stressful trying to balance what you want and what’s required of you, but I want you to know that I love your hair; damaged curls or healthy, weird fuzzy phase or the prettiest pattern known to man, you’re doing what you can and I love you for it - just as much as you love me for mine.” Squeezing his hands, a soft giggle shook your shoulders, “And I’m sure there’s a lot of stays out there who agree that curly haired, natural Channie is the best.”

He managed to let out a watery chuckle, sniffling as he turned his head up to finally look at you, brown eyes swimming in unshed tears. “Even if they aren’t as fluffy as they used to be?”

“Especially if they aren’t as fluffy as they used to be, baby.” Bringing a hand to his cheek, you wiped away a stray tear, “You told me first hand, your hair was getting healthier, now it’s just a matter of time for your curls to follow suit, yeah? Plus, you’ve got me, I don’t mind helping you figure out how to style your hair, even if it’s just between me and you - anything to help you love your curls again.”

Nodding, he took a slow breath to calm his nerves, the guilt melting away to hopefulness the longer you caressed his cheek, “Does… Does that mean I’ll get to use your hair products too?”

You laughed heartily, shrugging, “I guess I can use some things on you, but there’s no way all of my products will work on your hair, Channie - we can go shopping and figure it out, but be prepared, it’s a long process.” Bringing your hand up to his lightly tousled hair, you tucked a few strands into place, “I actually can’t wait to use my peppermint oil on you, I think that’ll be the first step we take.”

“The one you use after your leave in conditioner?” He beamed, easily recalling the calming scent of the oil that - embarrassingly - put him to sleep faster than the occasional sleep routine you introduced him to. “I love that one, it makes your hair smell so good!”

“Yeah? Well your hair can smell like mine now!” Grinning up at him, a spark of mischief flashed in your eyes, “And, you know, when we figure out your curl pattern…”

Chris nodded, urging you to continue as he settled his hands onto your hips, “Mhm?”

“We’d have a good idea for whose hair our future kids would have.”

You pressed your lips together in an effort to contain the laughter shaking your shoulders, but when his eyes widened as he registered your words, you fell into a fit of giggles.

“You can’t just say things like that out of nowhere!” He whined, tugging you closer to lean his head forehead on your shoulder, extremely aware of the heat rising on his face and undoubtedly turning his ears red.

“But I’m not wrong! There’s no way we’re not gonna have curly-headed babies, Chris, we might as well try to figure out what they’d look like!”

“You’re going to be the death of me, baby.” Lifting himself from your shoulder, he silenced your laughs with a kiss, smiling against your lips as you kissed back without hesitation. He pulled away not long after, gazing at you with eyes filled with adoration, his heart swelling as you smiled up at him with the same look. “I love you.”

You hummed happily, “I love you too, now, can you help me make sure I got all the curls separated in the back?”

With a nod, he let you slip out of his hold to face the mirror once more, sliding behind you to carefully readjust any out of place curl while you fluffed out the front and sides - glancing up every now and then to see the adorably focused furrow of your brow.

Maybe one day he could picture himself standing next to you, styling his own, less curly hair, but he knew for certain he could picture a smaller combination of you both sitting on the counter with your eyes and his personality.

Hopefully, they'd have your hair, too.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @zaethefangirl, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @dwaekkistar, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows,

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader #x black reader #black! reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan comfort #skz comfort #stray kids comfort

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oddinarylani · 3 months

Text

10:58 pm | chan | a place to sleep, for just some time.

they jingled and shook together between your fingers; your keys. even just walking to your car, which was a mere few steps from your complex, left the scratched metal freezing cold and wet with condensation. the skin of your fingers was beginning to turn a rosy, pretty shade of red - kissed by the wind chill and met with the cold unceremoniously.

huffs of hot breath leave your lips, your hand shoves your keys into your ignition - the click alerts your ears, and you turn.

she struggles to start up, a few repeated misfires as she tries to get started up in the cold, you push your lips together, “c’mon-“ you mutter once before she starts, engine coming to life as your radio begins to sound throughout the confines of your car. you sigh in relief, sitting back to get cozy for the next 20 minutes it takes her to get even the slightest bit warm.

as the engine warms to the first notch, some random playlist going - though your mind was rather fixated on how cold it was, not what music was playing, your phone buzzes.

did it start up okay?

your hands tremble, fingers numb as you type a reply.

yeah, i’m letting it warm up before i head over

please drive safe. the roads don’t look so good.

i will, i promise. i’ll go slow so it’ll take me a minute.

your phone still trembles in your fingers, a long shaky exhale leaves your lips, and chan sends a few more messages asking you to promise to be safe. forever doting on your wellbeing as he always had. it brings a smile to your shakes, and your car is a notch warmer. you change the song, hiding your fingers inside your jacket as you try to warm.

your knuckles have almost split and cracked from the dryness - you feel the ache over the skin - red and flustered and freezing, a kind of beautiful clash against the pure white of the snow on the ground.

it was reaching -22° now - the power had been out for 2 days, and you texted chan out of pure frozen desperation. finally caving on his request to have you stay over to keep out of the cold of your apartment. ice was beginning to form around your window pane, and now, you could periodically see your breaths in your own home. groceries were getting low and you were feeling fairly hopeless and frustrated at the predicament.

with one more promise of your carefulness to chan, you pull out of your complex to begin you drive, changing the song once more.

the ice and frozen pavement crunches and groans under your tires, but you have one thing on your mind keeping you going - and when you finally arrive you nearly feel like crying just at the sight.

chan walks out the door to greet you and take your bags, burying further in his hoodie when he feels how cold it’s getting outside. you throw your bags over you shoulder, waddling up to him and leaning up to kiss him when he takes your bags.

“hey baby,” he smiles. “let’s get you inside.” you nod, jaw chattering.

“if you want to lay down or change i just put the heated blanket on in my bed, i’ll get you some tea.” he leans in, kissing your cheek as you nod and shuffle off to his room.

his apartment is warm, warm and so comforting. you shes your layers, down to a long sleeve shirt and your fleece leggings and socks and slide into his bed, feeling your bones and muscles relax to the warmth and your jaw still from the chattering.

chan comes in a moment later, smiling at your cocooned state; the blankets pulled to your mouth, eyes closed as your body tries to take in as much warmth as possible.

“c’mere, baby.” he lifts the covers to slide in next to you, shuddering when he feels how cold you were against him. “o-ooh, you’re so cold.” he frowns softly, fully pressing his body against you, wrapping his arms around you. his hands gently scratch and soothe your skin, warming you up beneath his palms.

you nuzzle for his warmth, face buried in his shoulder and neck, your legs searching and preening to be intertwined with his. “i-i know, sorry.” you mumble, keeping your freezin digits to yourself until they warmed up enough.

“don’t apologize, baby. just glad you’re here, couldn’t imagine how bad it was at your place.” he cradles the back of your head, fingers scratching at your scalp and threading through your hair.

god, it felt so good to be in his arms. he was all encompassing, sobering - like being held by him brought every thought to the forefront of your mind and it was all just him.

he was warm, holding you in the way he knew you loved, the way he always did. it took the breath from you a bit, to be swallowed up by him.

the water for your tea dings and he stands, softly rubbing your waist and hip as he gets up. “i’ll be right back, you want cream? sugar?” you nod and he chuckles, coming back a moment later with your tea in hand. you sit up, a bit fuzzy from the warmth and take the cup he offered, the steam wafting from the top ever inviting.

you smile softly at him, your eyes meeting for a brief moment. “thank you, my love.” you lean in once more, your lips meting softly as a thank you. he hums, eyes a bit sparkly and mouth crinkled with a soft smile.

his eyes filter down to your hands, brow and eyes contorting. “oh your hands,” he fetches a small bottle of lotion, popping open the cap as he puts a good amount in his own hands, taking yours.

he brings your hands to his lips, kissing them softly with his pillowy lips before working the lotion into your skin.

you smile at his gesture, soon the cracking of your knuckles healed over a bit with the moisture, and he takes your hands in his, squeezing softly.

“you’re too good to me.” you chuckle, leaning further to wrap your arms around him, fully wrapped in his embrace.

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #oddinarylani // bang chan #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan blurb #skz blurb #stray kids blurb #skz comfort #stray kids comfort #bang chan comfort #bang chan fluff #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic

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ficcidio · 10 months

Text

FINE LINE

pairing: idol bf!chris x idol!reader

genre: angst, fluff, comfort

warnings: hateful comments, swear words, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader has an anxiety attack, and has a trauma with bullying, i think that’s it

a/n: everytime i listen to this song i imagine this situation and i needed to write abt it, hope u like it love u <3 (not proofread btw)

ᯤ now playing: fine line by harry styles

— 시작

“she’s so ugly” “they shouldn’t have made it public” “how can he be with someone like her?” “is this a joke?” “chan deserves better” “i hope y/n dies.”

those were the comments you were receiving for these last two hours. dispatch had just revealed your relationship with chris and you were already receiving threatening, hateful messages. you didn’t want this, you didn’t chose it. you were so mad and so hurt. why would they do it without your consent? what if you were going through something? which you actually were.

2 a.m, you couldn’t sleep. you didn’t read not even one nice comments. they were all talking about how bad you are for him, how you don’t deserve it, how they want you dead. your past memories came in flashbacks and tears started running down your cheeks, you couldn’t stop crying loudly, not even thinking about how much noise you were causing. chris had already left you 20 messages and 3 missed calls but you just couldn’t answer. you didn’t have energy, it’s like they had taken everything from you and your sadness was the only thing left.

you threw your phone, not caring if it broke or not, only focusing on your thoughts, your memories triggering you. remembering your old self being hurt, called things, threatened, being humiliated publicly. before you even noticed, you couldn’t breathe anymore. you were fighting just to get some air. your phone rings again, and again, and again. you lost count on how many messages and calls you received, but your fear and embarrassment were much more important. you were incredibly scared.

you didn’t know how much time had passed until you heard the door open. it was chan. you situation was still the same, crying, being hard to breathe. you truly wanted to pretend it was fine, didn’t want to worry him, but you couldn’t stop the tears and the loudness was unstoppable.

you heard quick steps, probably running to find you. when he finally heard the sobs coming out of the bathroom, he entered the room as soon as possible and looked down at you laying on the floor. he kneeled and removed the hair that covered your face. there he found your beautiful eyes with tears in them, letting them fall, loudly crying. “my baby” he whispered as he lifted you from the floor. he sat there and put you on his lap. he kissed the tears on your cheeks softly while hugging you tightly. his warmth made you feel like all the air you needed was finally coming through your lungs, finally breathing normally

“shhh, it’s okay baby” he comforted you as he patted your head and you tried to hold your tears. “it’s not” you finally talked “they all hate me”

“they don-“ you didn’t even let him finish “they do, chris, they want me to die” you hid your face in the crook of his neck as you kept crying uncontrollably

“those people are just mean. don’t let them control your life, pretty. don’t think about them. it’s just me and you now, yeah? they’re not getting in between us. i won’t let them”

“but what if they do something to you? what if the company doesn’t accept us?” you said quietly, trying to catch your breath while sobbing

“i will fight for us, y/n” he started “i won’t let anyone put a finger on you, nobody will touch you as long as you’re with me. nobody will hurt you, i will protect you with my life”

“i’m scared…” you said in a thin voice that could barely be heard

“i know you must be terrified, but you’re not alone, yeah? we’re in this together. we’re more than a couple, we’re a team, and i refuse to come here if it’s not with you holding my hand” he stated “my love, i don’t care losing my job, my fans or my fame. none of them are as important as you are. you’re essential, you’re needed. i only care about you right now”

you felt his love in every of his words, he never failed to make you feel appreciated. he gave you a beautiful sweet smile that calmed you down almost immediately. the tears started to slow down until they finally stopped. meanwhile he was mumbling that one song you always listened to together. all those hurtful memories were no longer there. peace. relieve. that’s what you felt. maybe all this comments were still there, but you were no longer alone. actually, you were never alone. he held your hand tightly and used the other one to grab your face gently and make you look at him

“you just hold my hand like this, and you’ll see how everything bad comment, every threat, every single one of their words will no longer mean anything to you. always walk by my side. i’m not gonna leave you behind.” he kissed the palm of your hand a couple times and a smile appeared on your face. “there it is. your gorgeous smile” you couldn’t help but giggle and kiss his cheek softly

he lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom. he quietly put you in the bed as he did the same. you felt tired from crying, your eyes hurt so much and they felt so heavy. he kissed your head and hugged you warmly. “if anyone wants to separate us, they will have to bring down a torch from heaven and set us fire” he whispered. you smiled and clung tighter to him.

“we’ll be alright, beautiful. we’ll be okay as long as we stay together. and we will” he promised, and you fully believed him. you knew he was right. he always was.

#skz #straykids #ficcidio #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan comfort #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bangchan x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader

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lieslab · 6 months

Text

I love you, I love you, I love you

Summary: Chan realizes you're feeling insecure and tries to make you feel better.

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Genre: Comfort/hurt & fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

_ _ _

The past tended to creep up at the most unexpected times. It dug its claws into your shoulders and loomed over you like a dark rain cloud. It didn’t matter if you threw yourself into work or your hobbies, it always seemed to catch up at the worst times.

Today was no different. You and your boyfriend had the day off. It was rare for both of your schedules to line up perfectly, but today it had. It was one of the best days you had in a while. You woke up early and spent the day with Chan.

Throughout the day, you found yourself sharing soft kisses, holding hands, touching, feeling, loving one another. He truly was your other half. You adored everything about him. From his cheesy pick-up lines to his sense of humor, the kindness he showed every stranger; the way he lit up every room he was in and made everyone comfortable.

Not only did you adore him, but you looked up to him. You idolized your own boyfriend. You treated him like a child treated their favorite stuffed animal. You whispered words of affection with your forehead pressed against his. Out in public, you reached for the warm comfort of his hand. You wrapped your arms around him from behind and held him tightly.

Whenever you showed up, his dimpled smile grew brighter. His eyes twinkled and his whole face lit up. In his eyes, you were as radiant as the sun, but you couldn’t see yourself the way he could. At times, you felt guilty about it.

How were you supposed to love someone if you didn’t know how to love yourself? You tried and tried and tried, but your brain was against you. When you looked inside of yourself, all you could see was your flaws.

You didn’t understand the twinkling in your own eyes when you saw your boyfriend. You didn’t get to see the way the sun lit up your face with its warm glow when you were outside in the summer. You didn’t see how much your contagious laughter made others laugh. You couldn’t grasp your own soft tender-heart.

You couldn’t find one good thing about yourself. Of course you couldn’t, not when the people in your past pointed out every flaw. In your eyes, you were an unfortunate mistake. Often times, you talked yourself into believing the relationship you had with Chan was one formed out of pity.

Chan wanted everyone to feel loved. Maybe, somehow, you caught his eye and maybe he had loved you, at one point, but how could he continue loving you? You weren’t anything special. When you looked at your life, there wasn’t any fancy achievement.

You were ordinary and filled with flaws. They were all you could think about daily. After you went out with Chan today, they were on your mind again. Without meaning to, comments from your parents nagged at you. Especially, when the two of you accidentally stumbled into a pocket of paparazzi.

You tried to stay off of social media because you knew what the fans were saying. Their venomous words were like knives to your heart. You were already being haunted with past comments from some old friends and your family members. The added peanut gallery discourse only caused your worries to balloon.

When the two of you arrived back at your apartment, Chan insisted he was going to make dinner for the two of you. He asked you to go pick out a movie the two of you could watch afterwards. It was such a simple request and the domestic ambience of it all brought you comfort.

However, when you came across an old movie you used to find comfort in as a child, you silently left the living room and made your way into the bedroom you shared with Chan. The thoughts from your past had been building and now the dam was beginning to crack.

You quietly shut the door, made your way over to the bed, and sat down. You squeezed your eyes shut and forced yourself to listen to the soft pitter-patter of the drizzling rain. Much like your mood, the outdoors had been cloudy all day, but the skies finally let loose.

Your nails dug into the skin of your thighs. The soft stinging sensation forced you to suck in a deep breath. You had to stop thinking about the past. It was over, there was no going back. You had to get over it, you needed to get over it, but you couldn’t.

How were you supposed to forgive the people who were supposed to love you most? All those people you used to call friends, how were you supposed to drown out their words? That echo chamber of online fan discourse, how were you supposed to ignore it?

You were trapped in a web of insecurity. You could squirm and wiggle and claw. Once a limb was free, another stuck to the web. The sticky cotton material gripped on and refused to let go. The familiar sensation of tears pricked in the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

Chan could come in at any moment and you refused to let yourself ruin the day. Not when he mentioned this was the best day he had in the past month. You weren’t going to send his perfect house of cards crumbling.

You’d suck it up and swallow your misery. You always did and you probably always would. You’d let it churn your stomach, curdle your blood, and rot your teeth. Your insecurities sat unspoken on your lips, but you never had the courage to voice them to anyone.

Your boyfriend wasn’t stupid. He knew you had your issues. When he brought up mentions of your parents, you’d change the conversation. Mentions of old friends made your eyes widen. Whenever he complimented you, you’d shift uncomfortably and refuse to meet his eyes. His praise was met with an awkward dejection, but it never stopped him from continuing to try.

He’d do whatever it took to make you see yourself like he did. He’d go to the ends of the Earth to see your smile. He’d swim through the ocean and stumble through deserts. He’d do anything to make you happy. He wasn’t clueless about your behavior.

He kept glancing at you from the kitchen while you were in the living room. Too absorbed in your actions, Chan knew something was bothering you. He didn’t mention it because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he knew something was there and breathing down your neck.

When the two of you headed home, you started to become quiet. You were a terrible actor and were awful playing pretend. You acted like you were upbeat, but Chan knew better. When you disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes, it didn’t take Chan long to pause his cooking and come find you.

He knocked before he pushed the half-opened door open and found you staring at the window. Melancholy surrounded you while you watched the raindrops slide down the window. Misery was seeping out of every pore and it was obvious.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” your voice was monotone.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Mmhm. Just taking a breather and watching the rain.”

Chan frowned. He wanted to ask about your feelings, but he knew you were uncomfortable talking about them. In silence, he padded over to you until he stood in front of you.

Sensing his presence, you turned to face him. You glanced up at him and forced a smile on your face. He knew it was fake, it never reached your eyes.

“Do you want help with dinner?”

He shook his head, “I just came to show you how much I love you.”

A chuckle came out of you. A victorious smile grew across his face. “So what are you waiting for?” He asked. “Lean back.” You raised an eyebrow and he grinned in response. “Don’t you trust me?”

You shimmied back onto the bed. Without a word, he climbed onto the bed and straddled your waist. Before you could ask what he was planning on doing, his lips meant yours for a few moments.

Beneath the comfort of your boyfriend, you instantly relaxed beneath him. Your body melted into the bed while your lips danced in sync. You had done this plenty of times before, but it continued to send jolts of electricity through your body.

Chan pulled away and planted a fat kiss in the middle of your forehead. You blinked in shock. “Hey, what are you doi-”

He pressed his finger to your lips to shush you. “Just let me love you, m’kay?”

Another kiss followed on your cheek. Another on your other cheek. A few were painted along your jawline. He squished your cheeks together and planted another kiss on your lips and the tip of your nose.

At some point, you began to giggle. Obnoxious kissing noises and dramatic ‘mwahs!’ left his lips. A soft kiss to the side of your neck. Another to your shoulder. A few speckled down your arms. He picked up your wrist with both hands and pressed his lips against your finger pads one by one.

You tried to interrupt him again, “why are yo-”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, but wh-”

Another kiss was planted on the back of your hand. “I love you.” Another pressed against the bare skin of your thigh while you wore shorts. “I love you” Another on your knee. “I love you.”

A blush filled your cheeks. He continued planting his lips randomly around your body. There was nothing sexual about it. Pure admiration filled his eyes. He repeated the words over and over again and showered you with his love hoping that the words would stick in your head. He silently prayed you’d absorb the words like a flower absorbed water.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He finished with a final kiss to your lips before he pulled away. “Can you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“My adoring love for you, silly!”

A smile filled your face. “I can feel your love, yes.” Another laugh spilled from your lips and caused his heart to flutter.

He pressed his face closer to yours again. You could feel his breath on your face. With his nose nearly pressed up to yours, he smiled and let out a squeaky laugh. “I love you so much. Please don’t ever change for anyone, darling.”

Before you could respond, he collapsed himself on top of you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He wiggled both of your bodies back and forth while he laughed. With a glance to your caught off-guard face, he laughed harder.

When the two of you finally calmed down, you made eye contact. Another sincere smile filled your face as you glanced at your boyfriend.

“Chan?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

By some miracle, his grin stretched.

For him, you’d try to face the world again, you always would.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Taglist: @fairytaleskiess Requests are open.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids comfort #bang chan #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan comfort #skz imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #kpop fanfic #fanfic writing #stay

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agi-ppangx · 5 months

Text

you were sitting on the couch next to chan in his living room, random show playing in the background, but you were too distracted to pay attention. you were too focused on the proximity between you and him; it wasn’t much, it was only your knees touching, but your skin was almost burning where your skin met his. you spared a few glances back and forth between chan and the tv and he must’ve finally noticed it. “what’s on your mind, pretty?” he asked cutely, seeing your rosy cheeks. you hesitated for a short moment, thinking whether you should ask or just brush it off. you really wanted to feel him under your fingertips though... “um… it’s nothing, just…” you started, your voice barely above the whisper. he redirected all his attention to you, forgetting about the tv show. “can i… hold your hand?” you finally mumbled, dropping your head. you felt so stupid, but you didn’t know how to act. it was your very first relationship after all, you didn’t know what you could and couldn’t do. chan grinned widely, giggling. “of course you can, you don’t have to ask,” he said happily and you looked at him with shiny eyes, slowly bringing your shaky hand to land on his. you took your time, brushing his skin softly and caressing each finger. and chan didn’t rush you, intently observing your every move completely in awe. it was this exact moment when he thought he was in love with you, but he didn’t say it, not yet. he was satisfied with how things were, letting you experience this whole relationship thing at your own pace. you finally intertwined your hand with his, placing both of them on your lap. you looked up at him again, finally smiling shyly. “better?” he whispered and you nodded vividly, transferring your focus on the tv show. now it was chan who couldn’t focus, too distracted by you. not yet, he thought, but one day i’ll tell you how much i love you.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids soft hours #skz bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan comfort #bang chan soft thoughts #bang chan soft hours

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st4rwon · 1 year

Text

late night texts

hyung line x reader

contains: lots of fluff, pet name

hyung line | maknae line

chan & minho

changbin & hyunjin

please don’t spam like posts, repost, translate, or use my work without my permission. all work is fictional and only used for entertainment purposes. © azurez 2023

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sunboki · 6 months

Text

The Devil's Plaything : moodboard

— TEASER 💣 ( releasing mid-november )

When Chan had to leave Hell to "babysit" (a.k.a. protect) you in the human realm, he wasn’t expecting for things to turn out the way they did — in more ways than one.

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strayseraphine · 13 days

Text

choice | one shot

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

summary: The opportunity to work in the same place as your childhood best friend is a great, right? Unfortunately, it turns out that it's hard to control the emotions that have been swirling in your hearts for years when you're at arm's length. fluff, a little bit of angst, jealousy, friends to lovers, cheesy fic with our silly cute channie

The kdrama mentioned is called Tomorrow and the fic mentions about episode 5, you have been warned. Here is the song from the episode that also appears in the fic.

TW: menfions of suicide, death, depression

5 204 words

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

bang chan masterlist | general masterlist | stranger things masterlist

Holding the handle of your suitcase tightly, you felt like a child lost in a crowd. You were breathless, and instead of slowing down, your breathing sped up and became more and more erratic.

What on earth tempted you to leave your entire life so far and fly to the other end of the world?

Then, as if on a call, a reason appeared in front of your eyes.

Despite the cap and mask covering his face, you immediately recognized him. However, not wanting to draw attention to you, you came closer and in silence went to the car, where immediately after closing the door you felt strong arms tighten around you.

"I missed you so much!" he muttered, snuggling into your neck.

"I missed you too, Channie." you laughed as you reciprocated the hug, smelling his perfume, which he had been using since you can remember. You didn't know it was possible to miss a scent that much.

"I can't believe I'm going to work with my best friend!" he said.

"First of all, you're lucky the boys can't hear it, secondly we won't."

"What do you mean we won't?"

"I, unlike you, will be locked in the office."

"But we will be in the same building! We will be able to spend our breaks together, I can bring you coffee and snacks!" he said excitedly with a wide smile on his face and squeezed your hand. You didn't complain about the fact that he didn't let go of you until the car pulled up to your new temporary home.

Two months ago, Chan called you saying that at JYP they were looking for someone for a temporary translator position. Since you were fresh out of college in the process of looking for a job, he thought you should definitely apply. Thinking little, you submitted your application.

Three weeks later, you received an invitation to an online interview, which resulted in a successful outcome and a contract signed for six months.

The experience you were able to gain working for this company was extremely valuable, but you were ashamed to admit that your main motivation for coming here was Chris. As children, the two of you were inseparable, but when he left Australia to chase his dreams both of you stubbornly made sure that contact did not disappear. When he came home on vacation you spent most of your free time together feeling as if he had never left.

Somewhere between playing together in the sandbox, sneaking out of the house for the late-night walks you used to go for when he returned to Australia during his teenage years and skipping lectures at uni just so you could spend the day and then the night with him, a strong bond formed between you.

In it there was something else to be found.

Something you both tried to ignore and push away.

Something that you were killing in each other thinking it was one-sided.

Something that you tried to keep in an iron, indestructible cage deep in your hearts.

Something that shattered the bars every time you saw each other.

The weeks at work were passing awfully fast. Your new co-workers welcomed you very warmly, meetings with Chris became your daily routine, and you felt more and more comfortable here every day. Keeping the promise, you spent all your lunch breaks together, sometimes joined by other members of the group. You quickly became part of the meetings. You even accompanied them during dance rehearsals and studio recordings. Especially Chan. Sitting with him in the studio until the morning hours and greeting sunrises together became almost a habit.

Today, however, you had the day off, while Chris had a full day of rehearsal for the gala to be held in a week's time. A strange feeling of emptiness and longing accompanied you throughout the day. You weren't afraid to admit that you were already used to his daily presence. However, you were afraid to think what will happen when you have to go back to Australia.

In order to focus your thoughts on something else after lunch you turned into a couch potato and started watching kdrama. Completely losing all sense of reality, you fully gave yourself over to the stories of the characters, which moved you to tears. You were snapped out of your trance by a phone call.

"Hello?" you said in a broken voice, not even trying to hide that you were crying. Unfortunately, the other side of the phone remained quiet and quickly hung up. Not caring much you wanted to go back to watching, but moments later Chan barged into your apartment without even bothering to knock on the door.

"Chris? what are you doing here?" you asked surprised still sobbing.

"What happened?" He asked. The sight of your heartbroken voice on the phone made his heart freeze.

"What?"

"We finished training, so I figured you were probably still awake and in the mood for something to eat, I called and heard you crying. What happened?" he explained quickly with a worried expression on his face.

"Oh god… Nothing happened! It just- It was just so damn beautifull and sad!" you laughed through your tears.

"Were you watching drama again?" he just sighed feeling small relief.

"Of course I was!"

"You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"I am sorry!" you threw a pillow in his diercion.

"Okay, okay, what was it about?" he shook his head, sitting down next to you.

"She died in a car accident, and he was someone who had to deal with a lot of deaths of his loved ones, his whole life, everyone blamed him for it! and he did nothing wrong!" you felt like your throat was shrinking. "His father blamed him for his mother's death because she died while giving birth, then when his wife died, her father also blamed him and he was in such a dark place, he wanted to kill himself, he believed them, that it was his fault!" you were ranting about character history, and he was just looking at you with a smile on his lips.

Despite the fact that your eyes were swollen and red from crying, he found something somehow adorable. Something pure. Something that made him want to hide you in his arms and kiss the tears off your cheeks. However, he quickly had to chase these thoughts away. After all, he was incapable of falling in love, wasn't he?

"And they show love in such a beautiful way here! Maybe I don't agree with "you are my whole life attitude" but in other aspects? They compare human beings to a tree, you know? People are like trees, And what matters is who makes the flowers bloom on the tree, which means your life can change depending on who you meet. At that moment she proposes to him, saying she wants to be the one to make the flowers on his tree bloom."

"A beautiful metaphor." he replied.

"Right? Later they present the red thread theory, which says that they are connected to each other and will find each other in each incarnation, which gives such a strange sense of hope! But I still think love is more of a choice than a destiny, which seems much stronger, because if I heard from someone now that I'm their whole world and their life doesn't exist without me I don't know if I'd be scared."

"How is it that you're one of the most romantic people I know, and you're afraid of such great confessions of love?" he asked.

"Imagine being in a relationship with a very toxic person, and when you want to get away from them they start threatening to kill themselves because they can't live without you. People in moments of desperation are able to go as far as anything, and love, despite the fact that it is very beautiful, can make a person very stupid." you explained.

"You are right."

"I am lucky enough to have some people who genuinely want the flowers on my tree bloom." you smiled. "You are one of them, by the way." you leaned your head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, you also take very good care of my tree." he replied without thinking. "Not only mine." he added quickly with a grunt. He began thinking about how other people feel in your company. About how there is always brightness and warmth in the room along with you. About how in his life the dark void was decorated with shining stars creating a beautiful night sky thanks to you.

"Who do you think your red thread is connected to?" you asked suddenly after a moment of silence.

"Mine?" he asked puzzled. Certainly not with the person I would like to. He thought. "Mine has probably been broken."

"I don't think so, in the show they said it only breaks at the moment of suicide. You are still here Chan, your thread surely leads to someone wonderful, as you deserve." You patted him on the knee. "Oh! there was also a very beautiful song in this episode, wanna hear?"

"Sure." He replied quietly and watched you get up from the couch to your laptop. He watched your every move, hoping to spot at least the thinnest red thread between the two of you.

"Can you focus?" Lee Know asked rolling his eyes.

"Earth to kangaroo! Where are you Chan?" added Han waving his hand in front of his face.

"I am focused, I don't know what you mean." he replied trying to defend himself.

"We have been practicing the same routine for an hour, and you are messing up the steps as if you were dancing it for the first time. " Minho squinted his eyes.

"Come on, give him a break, he is in looove." laughed Hyunjin.

"I am not!"

"We can see that there is something between the two of you, we can see how you look at her, you can't fool us, you do not look at a friend like that."

"I am not in love with y/n!" he said loudly, but without conviction. Saying those words caused him pain. Somehow saying that he doesn't love you felt wrong.

"But you know…none of us said her name out loud." said Changbin more peacefully.

"But-" Chan sighed and resignedly hid his face in his hands. For years he had pushed his feelings aside, but now that you were so close and had become an integral part of his life it was too difficult.

"Why you never let me bring her brownies that I made?" Felix laughed.

"Why do you always smile like an idiot when she sends you a photo?" I.N added.

"Let's just go back to the practice." He cut off the subject, knowing that the guys were right. Nevertheless, he knew that the moment he admitted it, nothing would be the same again, and changes can be scary.

In every job, no matter how wonderful, there are hard times. Today, some of your co-workers decided to take out their bad mood and frustration over non-functioning equipment on the team you were on. Although you knew that their bad mood was caused by the work reorganization, some unpleasant comments and remarks were particularly memorable and ruined your mood.

Due to a system failure that prevented you from working, you were told to go home before lunch, so you were not surprised to hear the sound of the phone at the hour when you usually meet.

"Where are you?" asked Chan.

"There was a system malfunction and they let us go home."

"So you won't be joining us?"

"What? Why?" Felix's voice came from the background. "But I made brownies! I brought them for you!" he took Chan's phone closer.

"Give me the phone, Felix!"

There was a commotion on the other side of the phone. You could imagine Felix running away with the phone and the guys helping him keep the leader at bay.

"Hey y/n!"

"Hey Seungmin, what's up?"

"Bang Chan misses you!" you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Tell him I miss him too," you chuckled.

"Okay, that's enough!" judging by Seungmin's mumbling and laughing, you concluded that the phone had returned to its owner.

"Talk to you later, bye!" he hung up before you had time to answer anything.

Since you had more time today, you decided to use it for cleaning, which always helped you to calm down to some extent, losing yourself in it and in the music from the speaker, you didn't know when a few hours had passed. Satisfied with your clean surroundings, you sat down on the couch, but after a while you felt a wave of fatigue hit you. With nothing better to do, you covered yourself with a blanket and fell asleep.

Unfortunately, this time the nap did not help your mood, and the sound of a knock on the door that woke you up made you even more upset. Covered with a blanket, you moved slowly toward the door. Then, as if by magic, when you saw Chan in the doorway, all your anger vanished and was replaced by…relief?

With a mournful whimper, you let your emotions carry you and without asking, you hugged him, cuddling into his chest. Surprised at first, he made no move, but he quickly woke up and you felt him embrace you. The familiar scent of his perfume created a sense of security in your mind that made every negative feeling inside you want to find an escape. Your breathing became more and more shaky as you fought back the tears that came to your eyes.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, sensing your stress. "Let it out, I'm here." His large hand began to slide up and down your back, caressing you.

"You are here." you muttered while snuggling even more into his shirt. He had the feeling that his heart was now on fire, but it wasn't the heat causing unbearable pain. It was the fire that slowly burns in the fireplace on winter evenings warming the house. Home. That's how he felt in your company.

"Come, let's sit down and you'll tell me all about it." he suggested, however, you still did not want to leave his arms. Selfishly you tightened your embrace without moving from your spot. "We can cuddle on the couch, come on." he chuckled seeing your reaction. Sitting snuggled into each other, Chan connected to the speaker and played your playlist with calmer songs in the background. It took a moment before you started to open up and talk about what had overwhelmed you today.

"I am so sorry." he murmured into your hair.

"I feel better now." you replied quietly.

"For real?"

"You are here so…yes."

A silence fell between the two of you but it was not awkward. At this level of friendship, shared silence was not something new or strange for you. The silence was broken by the sounds of another song.

"Ah, I love this song," he said. "I can't stop listening to it since you showed it to me."

"Well, I'm glad you liked it."

Along with the melody and the singer, Chan's soft and calm voice also began to spread around the room. You closed your eyes relishing the blissful moment, thinking you had found something good in this awful day. If it weren't for the nasty mood, you wouldn't have found comfort and solace in his arms.

How wonderful it would be if you could do this without any excuse?

"Do you remember when we fell asleep together like that, and Hannah took a picture of us and sent it out to all our friends and family saying that we were together?" he asked when the song was over.

"Yes," you laughed slightly at the memory.

"God, I wanted to kill her then." he also laughed.

"Why?"

"Uh, I mean its us, right? Best friends, how could anyone think we are a couple?" he replied embarrassed. This answer turned out to be a strong punch, which you had to take with clenched teeth and pretend that everything was fine.

The thing you didn't know was that what he said was just an escape from the truth. That day when everyone was congratulating you and telling you that you were finally a couple, he was afraid like nothing else that you would discover the truth about his feelings and that deep down he really wanted it to be true. Unfortunately, he did not know that you were on the same page.

Best friends, how could anyone think we are a couple?

These words haunted you for the next few days. No matter how good your mood was, they always came back ruining it instantly. They also pushed you to accepting a date to which you were invited by an employee from the marketing department. You were very often matched for joint projects, you worked very well together, you found nothing of agreement right away, but you didn't see this being blinded by Chan and your feelings for him. But since in his opinion you were just friends and had no chance to get out of this sphere, it was time to move on.

"y/n do you have any plans for tomorrow?" I.N asked, passing you in the hallway.

"I don't have until four, why?"

"We have a day off and we wanted to go shopping with Felix, why don't you go for a walk with us?"

"Sure!" the idea was good, you took it as an opportunity to buy something nice for your date.

"Cool, in that case we'll be in touch!" Maknae smiled charmingly, reminding you how similar he is to his skzoo.

"Sounds like a plan." you smiled back and returned to your desk. The rest of the day passed very smoothly and quickly for you.

Before you knew it you were already on your way to go shopping. Yeongin and Felix carefully browsed each hanger however you absent-mindedly only glanced superficially at the clothes. Your date was getting closer and closer however the less time left the more anxious and uncertain you felt. The fact that the person you were to spend the evening with was not Chan made it all seem…wrong.

How else were you able to move on?

Was it fair what you were doing now?

How would you feel if someone went on a date with you just to forget about someone else?

On the other hand, after all, that wasn't your only motive. In truth, you liked Minjun. He was handsome, kind, funny, you had many common interests, you really wanted to get to know him better.

"Earth to y/n!" the voice of Felix brought you back to reality.

"What?" you shrugged.

"Say hello to Chan!" Yeongin exclaimed happily, pointing his phone's camera at you. "We decided to show him how much fun we are having while he has to work."

"You are cruel!" at the sound of his voice you felt like you were caught in a crime. Not knowing what to do you awkwardly waved towards the camera, and then grabbed the first better dress and hid in the fitting room feeling embarrassed. What the hell is wrong with you? you thought looking at your reflection in the mirror.

"Hey, are you okay?" Felix asked lightly knocking on the fitting room door.

"Uh-yes!" you replied quickly, "I'm just trying on a dress!"

"In that case we are waiting for you to show up in it!"

The dress turned out to lie perfectly on you. The guys' assurances that you look good in it finally convinced you to the purchase.

When you got home it was time for preparations. Preparations that stressed you out even more. You tried to drown out your thoughts with music, but it was especially hard when a large part of your playlist consisted of songs by a band whose leader is the person you are trying to forget. The other part of the playlist was the songs you associated with him anyway. When you heard the first notes of Summer Flower you felt that you were in a no-win situation. If for so many years, being thousands of miles away, you had not managed to forget him how were you supposed to do it now having him at your fingertips almost every day? With a sigh you looked at the couch thinking about the moment when he held you there in his arms harmonizing his voice with the song.

What if he were here now?

What if now instead of getting ready for a date you were preparing snacks for a movie night together?

If you could spend the whole afternoon and evening cuddled up with him, holding his hand or playing with his hair if he laid his head on your lap?

Apparently, fate could read your mind, because as you combed your hair through the sound of the music a knock at the door broke through. Then you were greeted by the sight of Chris with a bag of snacks.

"I thought since I missed shopping together, we could make up for it with a marathon instead." he said dodging you at the threshold and entering the apartment.

Not knowing what to say you stared at him. The silence on your part prompted him to stop. Still not guessing anything, he noticed the brush in your hand and the knot in your hair. "Come on, let me help you." You went to the bedroom where you sat in front of the mirror. He hummed under his breath combing your hair with a slight smile on his lips enjoying this little moment. Whenever he combed your hair you laughed that he was giving you the princess treatment. That wasn't the case this time, which made him feel a little strange. "What do you feel like? a movie? kdrama? anime?" he tried to strike up a conversation. The fact that you haven't spoken a word since he came in increased this feeling.

"Chris…" Hearing your quiet, nervous voice he looked around. A dress hanging on a hanger, waiting to be put on, cosmetics scattered next to the mirror, an open jewelry box. It didn't take him long to guess that watching together today wouldn't work out.

"Are you going out somewhere?" he asked.

"I'm going on a date…" You said while sticking your gaze to the floor.

"Oh." visibly surprised, he stopped combing your hair for a moment. "Who's the lucky guy?" he asked in a forced joking tone, not wanting to make the situation seem even stranger.

"Minjun from the marketing department." you wanted to avoid looking at him at all costs. You were afraid of what you might see if you lifted your gaze. You were afraid that you would see disappointment, or worse, happiness and satisfaction that you were going out with someone else. However, if you actually looked at him you would see Channie's charming smile turn into a heartbroken expression. He could feel the jealousy building up in him, which he had to nip in the bud already. He couldn't let you notice, so he finished combing your hair as quickly as possible and left, explaining that he didn't want to disturb your preparations. You didn't protest, but something inside you was asking, begging even to tell you not to go anywhere and to stay here with him.

"I can't believe you lost to the guy from the marketing department." said Minho sitting down on the couch next to him. As soon as he left your flat he wanted to hole up in the studio however, halfway through a message about a movie marathon appeared on the group chat.

"Actually, he didn't lose because there was no competition," said Han.

"Exactly, if you had told her how you felt earlier she would have definitely chosen you" added Changbin.

"Can we focus on the movie?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Sorry hyung but this is definitely more interesting than the movie". said Hyunjin.

"You should go there and break the date." suggested Seungmin.

"Make up some excuse and call that you two absolutely must meet now!" I.N followed his idea.

"Can you guys just shut up and focus on the movie?" he asked more annoyed. There was a silence all around, which made him feel even worse. "I'm sorry…" he sighed. "I know I screwed up, but it's too late."

"We just want you to be happy." said Felix handing him a brownie on a plate.

"Even if it did work out…she doesn't deserve to hide and keep everything a secret."

"Maybe she won't mind? Maybe you can find a solution? Whatever is going on between you two has been going on for years, look how far you've come."

"Let's just focus on the movie, please."

Despite the fact that the guys had let the subject go and now the room was filled with laughter and loud comments about what was happening on the screen Chris couldn't focus at all. His head was filled with scenarios of what you can do now, did you have fun, did you let him hold your hand? hug you? kiss you? Jealousy bubbled up inside him but what could he do?

Somewhere near the end of the movie, his phone started vibrating with notifications, which he decided to ignore. Seungmin, however, annoyed by the constant vibrating, grabbed his phone to mute it but your nickname caught his attention.

"Chan you won't believe who it is." he said with a smile and started typing something.

"Who?" asked the unmoved leader, the only person he wanted to see a message from now was having a great time on a date with someone else. He didn't get an answer for a long moment.

"y/n didn't go on the date." This sentence made all the energy come back to him and he immediately snatched the phone from his hand to see the news.

c97b: why are you sending me tiktoks while being on a date? (your nickname): I am not on the date c97b: what? (your nickname): he cancelled last minute, so…

He looked at the phone in disbelief.

"Do something!" a shout from Lee Know brought him back to reality.

"This is your chance!" applauded Changbin.

Before he had time to think anything through his fingers were already running across the keyboard.

c97b: put the dress on. (your nickname): what? c97b: wear the dress, I will be there in 10.

What the hell is he doing? What will he tell you? How will he behave?

Thoughts and insecurities ate him from the inside out, and his hand was shaking when he was knocking at the door. However, when you opened it suddenly all the bad thoughts disappeared. All that mattered was how beautiful you looked now, and the struggle with the need to take you in his arms and not let you out of them.

Greeting you with a boyishly charming smile, he said it would be a shame if all your preparations for the going out went to waste. It was enough to make your disappointment with Minjun disappear. Enough for him to completely disappear from your thoughts which were once again completely possessed by your best friend.

Enjoying the last rays of sunshine today you went to the park for ice cream. You took a blanket with you to sit on the grass near the pond.

The meeting was not much different from the others, you were talking about everything and nothing, walking along the winding paths, watching the dogs playing, laughing how wonderful it would be to have little Berry here with you now and how she would love it here. The ice cream was the perfect cool down and sweetness, but Chan's showing dimples and his silly jokes were much sweeter.

Moments before sunset, you spread out your blanket and sat in silence watching the sky slowly turning orange and the sun disappearing behind the horizon directing its last warm rays at you, which you accepted with a smile.

"Thank you Channie." you said looking away from the scenery. Now you were able to notice that instead of watching the sunset, he was looking at you.

"You have nothing to thank me for." He shrugged his shoulders.

"For being there." You smiled slightly.

"I always will be." he replied without thinking.

"That's what friends are for, right?" You couldn't help the note of sadness creeping into your voice.

"y/n…" suddenly his face paled.

"What's wrong?" you asked worriedly.

"I think- I-" he began to stammer.

"Chris, whats going on?" The darkest scenarios appeared in front of your eyes, and panic rose in you.

"I think I am in love with you." he whispered.

"Oh my god-" surprised you covered your mouth with your hand. The shock on your face scared him more than it would have if your reaction had been instant rejection.

"I know, I know! But- I beg you even if you don't feel the same, let's just forget about it, I just had to tell you, finally after all these years, I couldn't hold it in anymore, but I understand that I'm just a friend to you, I don't want to lose you just because of some stupid feelings, hmp-" suddenly his ranting was interrupted by your lips. Sweet, soft lips that he had dreamed of touching for years. He had just fulfilled a scenario that had always seemed unattainable. Without wasting a moment he cupped your face making you cling even closer to him. The happiness that filled you pressed a smile to your lips that interrupted the kiss.

"If your feelings are stupid that means mine are too, because I feel exactly the same as you, you fool." you said quietly.

"I am a fool, a fool for you." he replied and kissed you again.

When you broke away from each other, this time hugging, you finished watching the sunset, which now seemed much more beautiful.

"It's gonna be hard…" he said after a moment of silence.

"Love isn't easy" you said. "b"But it's definitely worth it."

"How are we going to deal with all this?"

"We will find a solution, we always do."

"You think so?"

"Channie…" you took his hand, brought it to your lips and gently kissed the top of it. "I don't want to suddenly become your whole world, you won't be mine either, we both have separate lives, but love is not about the other person suddenly becoming the only thing we see. Love is about understanding that we both have separate worlds but we also have the desire to merge them. Love is finding a common path together."

"You are walkig hope, you know this?"

"Love is not fate, it is a choice. And that's what makes it powerful." You added again kissing his hand.

"You are my choice." he replied kissing your forehead.

No matter how crazy the collision of these worlds will be, he believed that as long as you are together everything will work out.

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