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DAECHWITA: Chapter 1

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“Because I like pleasing people for my own pleasure,” he tilted his head to the side in a way that reminded you so much of his mother, “It’s not just about immediate dopamine release, you see. I also have a thing for complete strangers blindly trusting me.” “Because you’re a prince?” “Because I am me.”

Chapter 1: Wangja's Nocturne

📜12.6K words | Approx. 55-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings: Brief mention of anxiety (stage fright), recreational drug use (sorta), (accidental) voyeurism, implied anal sex, sex under influence, Hyunjin has a blaring foot fetish, implied corruption kink, dom/sub dynamics (switch-leaning tendencies), body worshipping, sensory deprivation (blindfolding), lowkeyest knifeplay possible (non-violent intentions; it's clear it's for a scene), temperature play (ice - f receiving), waxplay (m receiving), hair pulling, mild breathplay, facefucking, implied breeding kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

Your oddinary is my ordinary.

“Today we’re going to learn about occupations. Who wants to share what their parents do for a living?”

An endless string of high-pitched yelling demanding the teacher’s attention. Accountant. Farmer. Civil servant. Businesswoman. And among all that, a tiny shy voice blurting out the most unexpected.

“Martial artist”.

“Oooooooh.”

Fascination. An awestruck silence took over the entire room because that was the same thing as saying ‘Red Power Ranger’ in the eyes of a bunch of seven-year-olds.

“That’s so interesting, Y/N! What does a martial artist do?”

“My father teaches the arts of Mars at The Dragon Pride Dojo, miss.”

Excitement. The hushed whispers were spreading all over the classroom at record speed as if the juiciest gossip just dropped in the neighborhood of nosy aunties. Everybody knew The Dragon Pride Dojo and the renowned world champion martial artist that owned it.

Your father.

“She’s Grandmaster Minhyuk’s daughter?”

“Oooooooh.”

It wasn’t the namedropping that took your teacher by surprise. It was the fact that a seven-year-old uttered the phrase ‘the arts of Mars’ very casually like she was talking about milk and cereal. It was very apparent that you had a gift for expression, even if you had picked it up from someone else.

“Does your mother work, as well?”

“She guards the gates of heaven, miss.”

Regret. A sorrowful silence took over the entire room because that was the same thing as saying ‘I know what death is’ in the eyes of a woman in her thirties.

It always made people uncomfortable because they thought they made a little girl sad, but you didn’t understand why. Granted, you weren’t able to spend any time with your mother since she passed away right after giving birth to you, but your father was nothing short of a mother. Yes, he was receiving great assistance from neighbors and friends every now and then, but he still knew how to braid your hair, make you lunchboxes with little octopus-shaped sausages in them, read you bedtime stories, teach you things, and he was great at all of those. He even turned the entire neighborhood upside down looking for sanitary pads when you got your first period, which was appalling to your friends. How could you even talk about these things with your father? Wasn’t that embarrassing?

No, it wasn’t. Although you thought having a mother must have been nice, you didn’t have a mom-shaped hole within you. Why would you when you had a superhero for a dad?

Yet, your father’s entourage, especially the female ones didn’t seem to think so.

“You should consider remarrying, Minhyuk.”

“We’re doing just fine. I’m not gonna bring some random person into our lives just because you see it fit.”

“She needs a feminine touch in her life. Are you trying to raise her as a boy?”

“I’m raising her as her own damn person, Hyejin,” Minhyuk’s exasperated sigh echoed in the dojo, “Just because it doesn’t live up to your princess standards doesn’t mean I’m raising her the wrong way. You don’t see me judging the crap out of your concept of make-believe families.”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it,” Hyejin took massive offense at what came out of her friend’s lips, “You do know how much I care about your family, especially for what you’ve done for me. My offer still stands.”

“God no!” Minhyuk burst into maniacal laughter, “I’m never gonna make a decision like that on her behalf. When she’s old enough, she’s gonna pave her own path, and I will stand by whatever she decides to do.”

The eyes of the seemingly pretty lady standing in front of your father darted to you, and she noticed you were hiding behind the wooden column with a scared expression on your face. You could only see her eyes behind the black surgical mask she was wearing, but from the way they turned into lines, she must have been smiling at you.

“Are you fighting?”

“No, sweetheart, no. Come here,” your father kneeled and opened his arms to embrace you. You ran to him and took shelter in his chest.

“Dad, what does ‘a feminine touch’ mean?”

“It means how fathers raise their girls is none of anyone’s damn business, baby,” Minhyuk put on your coat while shooting death glares at the lady and grabbed your hand, “Come, let’s go home.”

This dojo was like your second home. Because your father spent most of his time here, you kept bugging him to teach you what he was teaching all those other people. If learning combat was the way to spend more time with him, so be it. You also wouldn’t shut up about the scripts adorning the walls going ‘Look how pretty!’ every time you saw them, and once you learned that your father was the one responsible for those, you nagged him to teach you calligraphy until he caved.

You didn’t have any siblings, but you did grow up with two cousins who were like your brothers, which meant your upbringing did not have what most people would consider ‘a feminine touch’. When you were at the dojo, you were surrounded by men. When you were in school you were surrounded by boys due to the cred you had because of your father.

But that wasn’t why your teacher wanted to talk to your father.

He was always aware that you were adept at things, but he didn’t make much of it. Everybody could have had tendencies that allowed them to learn a skill quicker than others. Heck, he did have such students himself.

Yet, when someone kept picking up everything like a sponge absorbing water, apparently that wasn’t something ordinary. Your teacher explained to your father that anything you wanted to learn, you could master insanely easily, and that there were steps to be taken for this.

“She needs to attend a school for gifted kids, sir. We can’t have her potential to be wasted here.”

He was really happy with this news at first because that meant you could do anything you wanted with your life, but that happiness was stillborn, instantly turning into worry.

What if too many choices overwhelmed you?

What if you ended up surrounded by the wrong people?

Or worse, what if the government heard about it?

When you changed schools, it was like a whole new universe for you. Instead of chaotic P.E. classes, getting brain freeze with popsicles, and trying to say tongue twisters three times fast, it was aptitude tests, performance tasks, and Science Olympiads. It certainly required some getting used to the ivory walls surrounding this beacon of learning.

Your father’s concerns were dissolving over time whereas you kept passing by the neighborhood schools on your way home to watch how the kids played in the garden.

To remember what ‘normal’ looked like every once in a while.

Your ordinary is my oddinary.

The running half-joke made by the neighborhood aunties was that ‘girls could always marry into a rich family’. You thought that was funny, but not ha-ha funny, and it subliminally pushed you to become a tough nut to crack. In a world that wasn’t that kind to the bearers of pure x chromosomes, maybe that was for the better. The androgynous mannerisms you had developed didn’t necessarily mean there was a whole tomboy situation going on, though. You just didn’t want to depend on anyone and wanted to be able to take care of yourself.

…which would have been admirable if that was the whole issue.

It could be due to the people you grew up with, could be the semi-clinical schooling you received but you turned out to be what the school counselor lady called an “ambivert” person. You were great with people once you were comfortable, but damn were you awkward as fuck when you first met them.

Time didn’t stand still, of course. As you were growing up, your father was also growing older. As much as you didn’t want him worrying about your future, there was nothing you could do to stop it. He wasn’t exactly anxious about what profession you were going to choose—you could decide not to join the workforce at all for all he cared. The more you were turning into a young woman fixated on independence, the more he was getting restless about something that mattered more to him. He didn’t want you to be lonely.

Because he knew what that was like.

While turning into a neighborhood aunty himself, inquiring about your love life as casually as he could, your father was clearly forgetting how young you still were. It wasn’t that you had no interest in other people; of course you did. Like any teenager, you had obviously gone through the unbearable pain of having crushes, some of which were unfortunately not reciprocated. You did share your first kiss with your first love. You did snuck out to the movies. You did lose your virginity to your long-time boyfriend right before he left for college overseas. It broke your heart, of course, but you were gonna live. You just didn’t feel the need to inform your dad about every single one of those instances because everybody was entitled to a private life.

Not that he would put the guy in a chokehold if he heard about his little girl getting heartbroken, but you could never be too careful, you know?

Nevertheless, you still had a long life ahead of you. So many places to see. So many things to experience. So many routes to pick from.

Which was exactly why you were about to rip your hair out looking at the stack of acceptance letters on your desk. You were fucking eighteen for fuck’s sakes; how were you supposed to make a decision that was going to impact your entire life? Were you supposed to choose a school based on financial support? The prestige? The student life? The job placem—

“I FUCKING HATE THIS!!!”

“Sweetheart!”

“SORRY, DAD!”

As you rested your cheek on your desk, mumbling to yourself incoherently, your father appeared by your door and pointed at the envelopes in front of you.

“Grab those and come downstairs. We’re putting an end to this tonight.”

First world problem, right? Little did people know that not having that many choices was actually preferable in cases like this. When you dragged yourself to the kitchen, you noticed there was a bottle of melon liqueur and two shot glasses on the kitchen island.

“Um… Sir?”

“What? You already turned eighteen, but even if you didn’t I’m your goddamn father.”

“Dad!”

“Sit, woman. This is getting ridiculous.”

He poured two glasses and raised his for a toast. After rolling the shots, he kicked off the games.

“How many are you trying to pick from?”

“Nine.”

“JESUS!”

“You’re not helping, dad!”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Minhyuk refreshed your glasses and asked, “What’s bothering you? What are you trying to figure out, sweetheart?”

“It’s just… Can I?” you rolled the drink and drooped your shoulders, “It feels too much too fast all of a sudden. I don’t want to make a choice I’m going to regret.”

“Well, there’s no guarantee to that now, is there?” your father made a fair point, “What are the things you can control?”

You heaved a deep sigh and looked at the envelopes, “I guess I can divide them like this. These are the ones that give me a free ride,” you picked five of the envelopes and laid them out, “These three are the most prestigious schools I can go to, and this one lets me pick my major in my second year.”

“So?” Minhyuk creased his brows, “What are you beating yourself up about? It looks like you have this figured out already.”

You grabbed the envelope and swiveled it in front of him, “It’s The Royal Academy, dad.”

“And?”

“It’s gonna be so intense!”

“Oh, so you also want an option that lets you party, huh?” he leaned back in his chair, “I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you can’t have it all.”

“Now you see my problem,” you refilled the glasses this time. Your father examined the letters and picked three of them for you.

“You’re by no means obligated to choose from among these, but here’s what I think,” he started pointing at the letters, “This one will give you the chance to be in a multicultural environment, but you have to pick your major while registering. The same goes for this one. I honestly don’t know why you even applied there, but you can at least have the student life you want. And this one,” he picked the letter that might have as well said ‘military bootcamp’ on it, “will at least give you the flexibility to make your mind up a year into your education. The choice is yours.”

You were thinking so hard your father could practically see the formulas emitting from your head. He was aware of how unfair it was to force people to make such a big decision so early in life, but sometimes ‘it is what it is’. He held your hand over the counter.

“If at any point you feel like it’s not worth it, you can quit. You’re not gonna disappoint anyone.”

That smile. That smile was always what put your mind at ease. That smile was always what gave you the courage to take a leap of faith.

If you fell, it was okay.

You picked the letter emblazoned with the royal seal.

“We have a winner, sweetheart,” he raised his glass towards you for a celebratory toast this time, “Congratulations!”

“Oooh, boy. Here we go.”

Behind those giant gates laid The Royal Academy, the place you were going to spend the next couple of years of your life, not to mention the best ones of your youth. Buried in books.

You momentarily wondered whether it was too late to change your mind.

This school harbored the finest people from all over the world, faculty and students alike, and had a very broad academic catalog including many subjects ranging from positive sciences to culinary arts. It was notorious for its rigorous education, but it also boasted some of the most successful people the country had ever seen, including two presidents, renowned politicians, pioneering doctors, and many artists. People who graduated from here had absolutely no problem landing an excellent job placement in their respective fields.

What Harvard when this school existed? Please.

The campus was adjacent to The Forbidden Grounds. The two pieces of land were separated by high fire brick walls adorned with poison ivy all over like delicate barbed wire, but the school still looked like an extension of the palace from afar since they shared such a similar architectural texture and color palette. Reds, greens, browns, dark grays.

It was pretty alright, but the atmosphere at the academy just felt like an updated expansion pack of your previous school life. Rigid. Strictly academic. It smelled like parchment and knowledgable ghosts in the open corridors overlooking courtyards. This wasn’t any ordinary school, yes, but nobody else sure as hell had to wear a freaking uniform while attending university.

You half-jokingly dubbed the academy as a military bootcamp before, but once you arrived on the grounds, you were welcomed with such a homogenous look that it indeed looked like one. Everybody looked like sharply dressed royal cadets attending a formal event. A thin layer of plain fabric inside, a printed robe on top in colors representative of the colleges people were affiliated with, and a belt around the waist. All made of pure silk. The length of the robes got longer based on your “seniority”, so naturally, the faculty wore the longest ones.

You as an undeclared freshman wore a waist-length dark purple robe with white tiger print on it. There were also navy blues of engineering, emerald greens of medicine, burgundies of military studies, charcoal blacks of the professors among many more colors all over the place. The only color missing was the ruby red with golden print since that was only reserved for the formal royal wardrobe. Nobody else was allowed to wear those.

Came the end of the day, of course your father would turn on the aunty mode with a disgustingly sweet voice.

“How was school, sweetheart?”

“Tough, but good.”

“Anybody interesting?”

“Dad.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Dad, it was literally my first day, oh my god!”

This man literally had no chill. Who the heck met that one person they were going to spend the rest of their lives with across the room on the very first day of school?

Oh, right, your father, that’s who.

Seeing how annoyed you were getting, he dialed down the hopeless romantic shenanigans, and trapped you in a hug no matter how much you tried to escape it.

“Don’t be mad. I just want what’s best for you. You know that, right sweetheart?”

You hated it when he made sense.

School was indeed tough and it was only going to get tougher. Your schedule being super inconvenient was not making things any easier. You would have three hours in the morning, then a two-hour break, then another three hours, and its alternating permutations for the rest of the week. Getting out of the grounds and coming back was just a waste of time considering how far away it was from the city center, so you went on a little excursion on the campus in search of a place you could hear yourself fucking think. Or, you know, just stop thinking for a while.

And after two weeks of going to the most random corners of the premises, there it was.

You found a little pond. It was a little weird that it looked somewhat tended considering how far away it was from the main building complex—it took a twenty-minute walk just to get there, and there was not a soul around. It was so quiet that your own breathing sounded deafeningly loud to you. You felt the barks of the trees surrounding the place, and after finding one that you deemed sturdy, you climbed on top of it with the agility of a tiger.

“Whoa…”

The time spent on this piece of land was indeed an illusion. It made you forget where you actually were. You were convinced you were traveling to the Joseon Dynasty every time you were here. The dome of sky arching over the place felt like a time capsule.

Yet, from the top of that tree, you could clearly see the concrete fabric surrounding the lush greens and fiery brick reds of The Forbidden Grounds. You were so awestruck by the fascinating contrast that you didn’t know for how long you watched that view nothing short of magnificent.

Until some unusual stimulant demanded your attention.

You heard some faint noise coming from somewhere on the right. It was relatively far away, but the quietness of the place was so dense that you could perfectly make out what it was.

Somebody was moaning. You happened to know the difference between pain and pleasure, but this sounded like somewhere in between.

You squinted your eyes and tried to detect the source of the sound behind the curtains of branches and leaves for some time. When you finally spotted something moving in the distance…

Oh my fucking god.

Two people were fucking in broad daylight. On a balcony. A woman was bent over the wooden rails and her face was not visible, but the man mercilessly ramming himself into her from behind…

He had a robe on reaching to his ankles, material much like the one you were wearing but it was white with purple flowery prints. Well, it was the only thing he had on. His disheveled blonde hair looked all wet from sweat, and if sun rays were able to break through the shadow of the curvy roof somewhat hiding him, you were sure they would snitch on how his entire torso was covered in it, as well.

“You love taking it up the ass, don’t you?” he was maniacally smiling while panting, “Focus. Focus on the feeling. You’re gonna cum from this.”

The way he looked did not match the rawness of his moves at all. How the heck could a man looking like a porcelain doll fuck someone raw into oblivion like that? You knew you shouldn’t have been looking, but this was like a car accident, impossible to take your eyes off of. He was just so so so pleasing to the eye. You could only imagine what he felt like to the touch. Probably really firm judging from his chiseled figure, but a million degrees celsius considering how passionate he was.

God, you’re just the thing I like, you fucking beautiful creature.

If you could maintain your balance on that tree, you would legitimately get yourself off to the sight of him. He got you that wet from that far.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t touch yourself to him the second you got a moment of privacy.

You kept frequenting your spot by the pond whenever you had a long break in between your classes. It felt like a little hideout that nobody else knew. Although you wouldn’t even admit that to yourself, every time you were there you were hoping you would witness that unreal beauty’s undistilled passion again. Just once. No harm in just once more.

You kept thinking about that beautiful man. His barely discernible silhouette was embossed behind your eyelids. Every time you closed your eyes, he was there. Moaning. Panting. Eyes squeezed shut when he came.

“Hello?”

“Jesus f-!”

You were so used to being all by yourself, only accompanied by the wind blowing that the voice scared the crap out of you, causing you to almost fall into the pond you were sitting by.

“I’m so so sorry,” the owner of the voice instinctively rushed towards you to help you back up, “Are you okay?”

This voice…

You knew that from days ago. Instead of calming down, your blood pressure skyrocketed upon being reminded of the filth he spewed from his lips, complete music to your ears.

“Wow, your heart is beating so fast.”

You turned around to confirm your assumptions and it was indeed true. Same blonde hair, only neatly combed this time. A layer of white silk was hiding his body under his black robe, but you weren’t able to unsee it as if you had x-ray vision.

“You’re an academy student?” he gently smiled while helping you get up to your feet. You were still slightly disoriented.

“No, I teleported from the Silla Dynasty. Why else would I dress like this?”

He laughed. His eyes turned into crescent moons when he laughed. He looked like a historical romance character, really. You pointed at his clothing.

“I’ve never seen these robes before. Is there a new college open?”

He didn’t answer your question, but his smile was still intact, “I didn’t really think I’d find anybody around here.”

He was so calm and composed, but there was this aura to him. Something you couldn’t quite explain. In your experience, it was always the quiet ones.

Always the quiet ones that fucked shit up.

“I hope we run into each other again,” he smiled and left. You watched as he disappeared behind the trees, and he left you with an indescribable aftertaste on your palate. There were butterflies in your stomach, but at the same time, you felt like you had done something you shouldn’t have by encountering him in the first place. Maybe it was the guilt of knowing what he looked like under those silk layers.

An even silkier flash of his bare skin… Just magnificent to witness.

Who are you, beautiful creature?

Towards the end of your first semester, all your professors were aware of the tremendous potential you had, and you were informed that finishing school way earlier than the usual course of study was not within the realm of the impossible. It actually served to your benefit because you just wanted to be done with the school formality so that you could start providing for your father for a change, not that he needed it—it was just a matter of feeling indebted to your favorite person. Just as much as he meant everything to you, there were only two things that mattered to him in this world: you and his dojo.

The Royal Academy was different than most schools in many ways. Normally, when you made it past a certain GPA threshold, you would be in the dean’s list. If you were exceptional, however, your name ended up on something much more distinguished than that:

The Queen’s Honor Roll.

And when the Queen noticed you, it was much better than landing any other job in the world.

Or so they said.

There was going to be a reception in honor of the students on the honor roll. Not only were you not expecting a celebration of sorts, but you were also tasked with delivering a little speech being the person topping that aforementioned chart.

Ha. Haha. Hahahahaha, it’s not like I have severe stage fright. This is FINE!

You thought the extraordinariness would stop there, but all the attendees of this event were asked to sign an NDA declaring they were not going to divulge anything from the night outside. No phones or devices of any kind were going to be allowed, and everybody was going to be searched upon arrival. Although it lowkey made you feel like a celebrity, you found it a little weird to be picked up from your house in a black Escalade with filmed windows. It was impossible to see outside.

It was a party alright, but it legitimately looked like some pretentious fundraiser gala. Since the name of the event involved the queen, you were wondering whether she was going to be there, but your curiosity was promptly satisfied upon arrival. Since everybody was wondering the same thing, you overhead that she didn’t attend such events, which alleviated your anxiety about your speech the tiniest bit. Quite frankly, you rambling on stage wouldn’t even be the last thing you would want her to see.

“Which department do you think they’re at? I’ve never seen them.”

“No idea, but for them I’m willing to double major and not have a life.”

You turned your attention to the two people speaking behind you at the buffet, and looked at the direction of what they were commenting about.

WOWZA!

Two guys were talking to each other at one corner of the hall, and man did they look absolutely stunning. You did recognize one of them. The guy on the balcony. Also from the pond. Also from a couple of your wet dreams. When he turned his head to the side and locked eyes with you from afar, you flinched in your place.

“...and now please welcome our interim valedictorian Y/N Y/LN for their speech.”

The applause and the abrupt mention of your name pulled you back to the earth so fast that you felt a little disoriented. It was fine. Just fine. You were supposed to plaster a smile on your face, fake confidence, utter a bunch of sentences, and come back down. Your hands were clammy already as you walked towards that microphone.

“Yeah, um… Hi!”

The soft music stopped. An entire room of people were looking at you. They were probably judging the crap out of you, weren’t they? God, you shouldn’t have worn that dress tonight. You shouldn’t have styled your hair that way. You should have been fucking normal and not land your ass on that list that was going to put you behind that microphone. Your throat was so dry and you still weren’t speaking.

Some movement at the very back of the crowd captured your attention. It was the guy speaking to the blond god. He lifted two of his hands from his stomach towards his chest and mouthed something.

‘Breathe.’

You took a deep breath and switched to autopilot. You didn’t even fully register what you said—you just knew some sentences were stacked somewhere in your brain, and they needed to be read out loud. That was it. You kept it as brief as possible, thanked a bunch of people, and when you were finished, your breathing instructor at the back started an applause, letting out a loud ‘Whoo!’. As you were stepping down, you noticed some blonde glow approaching you in your peripheral vision, immediately sending a shockwave throughout your body that was barely about to calm down.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh not now please no. I’m not in the right headspace for this!!!

You and you goddamn ambivert nature… There was no way you could utter coherent things in front of this guy because he fucking did things to your insides. You made your way to the buffet to grab three tiny bottles of ‘mini bar whiskey’ and rushed to the restroom to calm down away from the main hall. Once you got your wits back, you could go back out to talk to him with some sassy comment like “Did I tear it up or what? Haha why yes, thank you for noticing.”

You got a bit too carried away while having this imaginary conversation in your head on that empty corridor. Right when you were about to pull the main door leading to the restrooms, it swung open towards you and hit you on the forehead.

“Watch it!”

“Sh– Sorry!”

The person almost knocking you over immediately grabbed your arms and did a quick damage control. Once the birds flying over your head disappeared, you noticed it was the breathing instructor from earlier. He had an apologetic smile on his face.

“Let’s do it over. Hi, I’m Chris.”

You eyed his extended hand and looked back up at him, your hand still on your forehead.

“Yeah, no, you’re the bathroom dude from now on.”

It lowkey made you melt when he giggled and you couldn’t help the urge to smile back. No wonder he was able to calm you down all the way from the back of the hall since he had such a comforting aura around him.

“It’s a little boring inside, isn’t it?”

“I mean…” you hesitated the tiniest bit before answering, “It’s not not pretentious.”

“Wanna steal a bunch of drinks and hang out at the roof?”

“Which one do you have? A drinking probem or anarchistic tendencies?”

He pointed at your little handbag with a deadpan voice, “You do realize I can see the microscopic scotch peeking out of your purse, right?”

Shit!

“Alright, you got me.”

He giggled again and opened the left side of his blazer to flash his inner pocket, showing you one of the tiny bottles he had himself. It looked like he had a couple of more of those stashed under there. You cackled.

What an adorable dork.

“Come.”

Chris grabbed your hand and dragged you to the rooftop with quick steps. From the way he confidently led the way, it looked like he had been there before. It was chilly outside, but it wasn’t going to matter in about a second. The view from there was even better than your treetop one.

“You’re a student here?” you asked while opening the cap of the tiny bottle.

“Yes.”

“Robe color?”

“Burgundy.”

“Ooh, military studies,” you hissed at the information and contorted your face, “Severe ego problems.”

“Hey!”

You didn’t realize how much time you spent on that rooftop with Chris. The conversation you shared was a little out of the ordinary. Besides your initial question about his robe color, neither of you asked about personal things as if there was this unspoken rule to abide by to not get to know each other. Come to think of it, he didn’t ask you what yours was when he offered his name to you. Like he was just trying to even the ground because he learned your name by accident in that hall. You didn’t insist.

You talked about impersonal things instead. You talked about how the first snow was right around the corner. You talked about what paired well with whiskey. You talked about bicycles. You talked about nunchucks. You talked about the sea.

And at the end of the conversation, you realized how he kept looking at your lips with longing. You knew what that meant but even after a couple of drinks you couldn’t find the courage to close that distance on his behalf even though nothing was as inviting as his lips at that moment.

“I uh- I should go,” you darted your eyes to the floor, “Thank you for hanging out with me, bathroom dude.”

“Anytime.”

You left him behind and made your way downstairs. You had to pass by the reception hall again to inform the personnel you were ready to leave. As you were walking towards the information desk, you were stopped by someone who looked like a bodyguard instead.

“Miss, this way please.”

What the fuck?

Were you about to get your first disciplinary hearing on the night of your academic triumph by any chance?

The man escorted you to a room at the end of the hall, which looked like a judge’s chambers. While you were expecting an entire committee, there was just a woman clad in evening attire inside. Elegance for days. She was warmly smiling at you.

Why did you feel like you had seen her before, though?

“Uh- Have we met before, ma’am? You look somewhat familiar.”

“I should hope so,” the woman got up to her feet and started walking towards you, “There’s a picture of my face on some bills circulating in the country.”

“Since I haven’t seen anything higher than a twenty in my life, I’ll have to disappoint you on that one.”

You laughed at your own half-joke attempt sponsored by the buzz still circulating throughout your body of course, risking making a complete fool out of yourself in front of this woman. Lucky for you, she humored you and let out a tiny chuckle, but all you could think about was how dignified she looked. It was all about the vibe, you know? It was such a powerful aura emitting from her that you could totally picture her sitting on a thro—

OH SHIT!

“Oh my f- Your highness,” you immediately bowed 110 degrees, “I wholeheartedly apologize.”

Her soft chuckle got louder, indicative of how much she was getting a kick out of your newfound epiphany, “You are indeed fascinating, Ms. Y/LN.”

“You- You know who I am?”

“Why, of course. You were our distinguished scholar for the night. You’re also The Grandmaster’s daughter, correct?”

“Yes, your highness.”

But ‘why’ do you know about my father?

As though she was able to read your mind, she continued, “He has served our family impeccably over many years. Needless to say, I have not a shred of doubt regarding his loyalty to us.”

“Your faith is very much appreciated, your highness,” you bowed again.

She gestured you to sit on one of the brown leather armchairs in front of the gargantuan mahogany desk, and set across you herself.

“Say, does your father ever talk about the future, Miss Y/LN?”

You didn’t understand what the question exactly entailed but attempted an answer nevertheless, “He wants to own a cherry orchard when he retires if that’s what you mean.”

“Very charming”, she tilted her head to the side, “What are your future plans?”

Really. What were they indeed?

You spent an entire semester trying to find something you would indeed be passionate about but everything was just a little meh. When you reached out to the career counseling services for a little guidance, they put you through a test, and your aptitude was equally divided across disciplines. Yay, good news, you could do anything you wanted.

Thanks for nothing, I guess.

“I’m yet to figure it out, your highness.”

“How about you figure it out here?”

There was obviously a reason for you to be summoned there. The queen declared that she wanted you on the grounds for intensive education since you were an asset that just could not go to waste. She was well aware that the government was going to hear about you sooner or later, and the royal family and the president knew the conditions for locking down talent. First come first serve.

You didn’t need to know about all that, of course.

“You can consider it an internship offer of sorts, if you’d like.”

“Internship?” you creased your brows, “And you would be my supervisor?”

“Supervisor?” she laughed, still somehow managing to keep her elegance intact, “I’m really tired of being one of the few women on the grounds. I can be your company instead. Maybe even teach you a thing or two.”

“What thing?”

She leaned over and lightly held your chin like a mother would do, “Academics are one thing, but women are also living, breathing, organic works of art, child. I’d very much like you to learn the intricacies of it,” Then she rested her back against the couch and clasped her hands on her lap, “If you do not wish anything to happen to your father’s beloved dojo, that is.”

There it was. Of course she wasn’t going to offer something like this out of the goodness of her heart, was she? What exactly did she want you to learn anyway? Your throat got drier than when you stood behind that microphone earlier that night.

“Can um- Can I take some time to think about it?”

“Why, of course,” she fondly smiled, “Would five minutes suffice?”

Excuse you?

“I thought you didn’t have any doubts about our family’s loyalty, your highness.”

“I never said anything about your family, child. I said I do not doubt The Grandmaster’s loyalty. I do not know you from Adam now, do I?”

She picked up a file resting on the desk, opened the cover, and went through a bunch of documents inside.

“I understand this is a tough decision to make on short notice, but I have many more crucial matters to attend to. Thus, I would like to request a prompt answer,” she gave you what looked like a contract for you to examine, “Should you accept this offer, not only will I ensure nobody ever lays a finger on the dojo, but neither you nor The Grandmaster shall worry about any financial burden for the rest of your lives. I have everything ready, here.”

You went through what was outlined in that document as quickly as you could, cursing at yourself the entire time for deciding to drink that night. A sentence in the middle of the document grabbed your attention.

“...bound to serve The Royal Family however is seen fit within an instructional capacity…”

“What does this mean?”

“It just means when the time comes I might ask you to teach a thing or two to the residents of this estate, as well. I am very much aware of your prodigious tendencies,” she declared matter-of-factly, “Needless to say, this also means you pledge allegiance to The Royal Family, of course. Just like your father.”

Your father pledged allegiance to The Royals? Since when? You did know he had trained countless people affiliated with them, but still—

Nevertheless, you felt a little sense of relief. What was asked of you was actually not that bad considering you’d been assisting your father with hardcore martial arts training for years. What could possibly be worse than going head to head with colossal testosterone bombs on the regular?

“Your highness, with all due respect, I would very much like to consult with my father about such a decision.”

“You need not worry about that, child,” she pulled another piece of paper from the file declaring your father’s consent statement, not that he needed to give that on your behalf in the first place since you were an adult in the eyes of the law.

“Should my daughter accept the aforementioned conditions of her own volition only, I, as her father, hereby declare that I consent to everything stated above.”

I just want what’s best for you.

You did, too. You wanted what was best for him. Although you knew how much he loved it, you wanted him to retire from the dojo and move to an island to tend his cherry orchard like he always wanted. Spend the rest of whatever time he had left happily and in peace. Maybe meet someone there. Remember what being in love felt like.

“Here,” her excellency extended an ornate fancy pen to you.

All in all, your father was the only man you trusted in this entire world. If he agreed to this, there must have been a reason. You signed the document picturing that reassuring smile he always flashed whenever you doubted something.

The rest of your life was about to begin.

“And you’re sure this is okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? This is indeed a great opportunity. Think of it as being the chosen one,” your father uttered calmly with a smile, “I’ve always told you I’m behind every decision you make, haven’t I?”

You briefly considered telling him about the thinly veiled threat posed against the dojo, but you eventually decided against it. There was no need to inject anxiety in him considering he already had so many worries about your future. On the bright side, you felt that this was a chance to finally be able to repay him in some way—that was your motivation for this whole ordeal.

“I’ll miss you, sweetheart.”

“I’ll miss you too, dad. Please take good care of yourself while I’m gone.”

Gone, meaning for at least two years. Since your residence was going to be on The Forbidden Grounds, you weren’t allowed to leave the premises, nor were you allowed any devices with you. No phone, no computer, not even an ancient pager. Nothing.

The all familiar black Escalade came to pick you up at midnight. If the inside of the car didn’t look somewhat cozy with the light beige leather upholstery and yellowish interior lighting, you were going to be convinced you were actually being taken to a black ops site.

“Miss?”

The car door literally opened to another dimension. You found yourself at what looked like the backyard of a multiple-story outbuilding. It wasn’t even an outbuilding but the gigantic palace made it look like one. The yard surrounded with a high wooden fence looked like a secret garden, and it possessed such a delicate beauty, covered with mowed lawn that had midnight dew on it, gorgeous flowers around a wooden gazebo, and a little pond in front of it that seemed to be the home of some koi fish.

It somehow reminded you of the beautiful man again. Then you made your way to your new home.

Judging from the number of doors on this quiet corridor, you seemingly shared a hall with some people, but you didn’t know who they were, nor were you allowed to roam around. The only places you were free to go were the outside grounds, the passageway leading to the campus, and several common areas.

The Joseon cosplay started a little weird, though.

You went through an entire health check-up upon your arrival, and they checked everything. Blood pressure, lung capacity, cholesterol, hormone balance, every - single - one of your organ systems along with your entire health history. While you didn’t fully understand the necessity, you didn’t dwell on it much. Who knew what went through the minds of the royal affiliates?

Soon enough, you managed to establish a routine. Get up. Go to class. Come back. Study. Shower. Go to sleep. You didn’t need to go to your spot by the pond anymore since you could always come back to your room in between classes. You were still having a hard time believing you were actually living in this place. Lucky for you, you enjoyed the solitude so the quietness didn’t really bother you. You actually found it very serene.

Then you realized, you were indeed not alone in this place.

One night, you heard some sounds coming from the corridor for the first time. When you slid your door open as quietly as possible and peeked out, you saw a woman down the hall kissing someone you weren’t able to see by the doorframe.

Huh.

You wouldn’t know what happened during the daytime since you were out for school, but the visits got more frequent. Eventually, there were women coming and going into that room every single night.

Who the fuck are these people?

You weren’t particularly bothered by it per se; it was just a matter of genuine curiosity. You had an inkling about what was going on in there, but you found it bewildering that in a not-so-yielding place like this, someone was bold enough to keep inviting people with their whole chest, and not face any sort of consequences for it. Then, one of these nights…

“God, Hyunjin! YES!”

Let’s just say that it became way too passionate.

Is NO ONE able to hear this, fucking CHRIST!

You slapped your silk robe on you to march towards the room and started banging on the door. You didn’t even care how loud you were knocking it since there was no way it was louder than whatever the fuck these people were doing inside. The door harshly slid open from the other side.

“WHAT?!”

Everything you wanted to say vanished into thin air out of mild shock in the face of what manifested before your eyes.

Disheveled look, still slightly panting. Belt of the robe clumsily tied around his thin waist, in no way covering his chest covered with a sheen of sweat.

It was him.

He looked as surprised as you were in that dark corridor, but more importantly what the hell was he doing living in this building?

“Don't you even dare speak to anyone about this if you don’t want problems, you hear me? Go!”

His eyes looked blank and his pupils were blown, a clear sign that he was under influence. He scared you so much that you ran back to your room without saying anything.

At least the sounds stopped for the rest of the night.

You didn’t really like adorning parts of your body that were visible. Even when you decided to get a tattoo — ‘Mind over matter’, the dojo’s motto written in ancient script — you specifically asked for it to be on your spine so that it didn’t show whatever you wore. You weren’t really great with jewellery either with one exception.

Toe rings. Your father had told you about how your mom would always wear those, so you acquired a collection over the years.

That night, you were in your room doing a pedicure after taking a long shower when you heard a knock on your door for the first time. You briefly went through everything that happened during the day in your mind to confirm whether you did something wrong because anxious people problems. You expected to see even one of those armed guards at your door, but most definitely not him.

He had an apologetic expression on his face. His hair looked damp and he smelled like jasmines, apparently coming from taking a shower not too long ago.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t know,” you leaned against the door and and crossed your arms over your chest, “Do I dare?”

“I deserve that,” he bashfully looked at the floor and met your eyes again, “Just two minutes. Please.”

You shrugged and stepped aside for him to enter. He didn’t waste any time and cut straight to the chase.

“I was really faded the other night and that’s no excuse to treat someone that poorly. I wholeheartedly apologize.”

What even…?

This man certainly didn’t beat around the bush. You didn’t think he would be so upfront and honest about it, so whatever annoyance you had dissipated.

“Just keep it down, will you? That’s all I’m saying.”

A relieved smile adorned his beautiful features and he looked down again. You weren’t sure if you were seeing things, but it looked like he gulped thickly when he noticed the ring on your foot.

“Anyway. I’ll- I’ll go.”

“So, what is this, are you my male counterpart?” you asked while walking towards the door to open it for him to leave, “Am I being put through a control study again?”

He looked at you with a somewhat confused expression, “I don’t know what any of those words mean, but I happen to live here.”

“As what? An RA of sorts?”

“As the queen’s son,” he flashed a smile like he didn’t drop a bombshell on you just then, “I apologize once again. Good night.”

No fucking way…

That connected a lot of dots for you. Who the fuck else was going to have an attitude like they owned the goddamn place?

The person who owned the place, that’s who.

When you slowly slid the door close, still somewhat dazed due to this brand-new piece of information, you noticed his silk belt had dropped on the floor. You hurriedly went after him to give it back and knocked on his door right after he closed it.

“Yes?”

“You dropped this, your grace,” you bowed.

“Oh, thank you.”

When he reached for the smooth piece of fabric, your fingers brushed against each other. He still did something to your insides.

“Would you like to come in? The full moon is really pretty tonight.”

He slid his door open and stepped aside, showing you the balcony overlooking the moon as well as putting the rest of his room on display. He had lit a candle by his bedside, possibly the reason why the entire room smelled like cactus flower petals, fresh citrus, vanilla, and hints of coconut.

“I uh-”

“I also have chamomile tea,” he extended his hand to you as if asking you for a dance, “Please?”

Not that you were looking for excuses to say yes to this beautiful man, but a prince’s wishes were commands, right? You walked in and made your way to the balcony as he slid the door close. You sat on the literal edge of one of the bamboo chairs and soon after he appeared with two cups made of fine china.

“Am I making you nervous?” he commented on your posture while offering you the tea.

Hell yeah? Never in a billion years would you think you would be in the presence of the fucking prince. Who would be able to stay still like that wasn’t a big deal?

“Please don’t be,” he smiled while sitting down next to you.

“Yeah, it’s easier said than done.”

“Would you allow me to take the edge off?”

“How so?” you looked at him with raised brows.

“With this.”

He flashed a tiny piece of glass harboring some liquid inside, which looked like a miniature essence vial, and added a couple of drops to his tea.

“Only if you want, of course. No pressure.”

“What is this? Passiflora?”

“You could say that,” he hovered his hand over your cup, “May I?”

Eh. What the hell.

“Sure.”

You slowly drew circles in your cup with that glass spoon and took your first sip from the calming tea. You both sat there watching the moon for some time in silence, then all of a sudden, you felt something in the pit of your stomach. Like the sound of a water droplet, you heard it loud and clear. A warm, pleasant sensation was spreading throughout your body, and it was pooling between your legs. For some reason, you felt… unnecessarily confident in your sexiness.

The fuck?

You didn’t know what demon syrup you had with your tea, but that could have been veritaserum for all you cared because your nervousness indeed dissolved into thin air along with your filters.

“If you don’t mind me observing, this doesn’t really look like a prince’s chambers.”

“It’s not,” Hyunjin took a silent sip from the delicate porcelain cup, “This is my catharsis room.”

“Catharsis room?”

“I have needs,” he placed the empty cup on the bamboo coffee table in front of him, “which I could satisfy easily if I wasn’t trapped here.”

“Why are you trapped here?”

“Courtesy of my brother. Long story,” he got up to his feet and brought back the little teapot to refresh his glass, “If I don’t get these urges out of my system, I’m gonna end up killing someone.”

That hint of grudge in his voice... It was so obvious and borderline scary. When he turned to you, you saw something glinting in his eyes.

“It’s just between you and me, though. Nobody can know.”

“Of course. Mum’s the word.”

He broke into his calm smile again and reached for your cup to refill it.

“How come you’re not getting any complaints? You’re a bit… loud.”

“This used to be a guesthouse. There’s no one else residing in this building,” he declared nonchalantly, “Well, apparently besides you.”

Oh, so that’s why.

“Is hedonism working out well for you? Why do you keep doing this?”

“Because I like pleasing people for my own pleasure,” he tilted his head to the side in a way that reminded you so much of his mother, “It’s not just about immediate dopamine release, you see. I also have a thing for complete strangers blindly trusting me.”

“Because you’re a prince?”

“Because I am me.”

“Let me get this straight. So you’re saying you legitimately have a harem going on around here? I thought that was only in the movies.”

“That’s not what it’s called around here, but I happen to borrow our entertainers every now and then.”

A little cliché, huh? Bored princes trying to entertain themselves because they were oh so sick of this life. Because they couldn’t remember the last time they did something for the first time. Now that was a first world problem.

“Is your brother also…?”

“God, no. He’s just a troublemaker on the outside. You slap his hand once, he’ll never do it again,” he leaned into you as if he was giving you a secret, “He’s supposed to be abstaining.”

“Aren’t you?” you shot a maximally judgemental look.

“What mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” his eyes sparkled with that glint again, “Again. Nobody can know.”

“I gave you my word, your grace.”

“I’m forbidding you from calling me that,” he firmly ordered, “Address me with my name.”

“You never gave me your name.”

He actually didn’t need to. You knew what his name was. You heard those women screaming it time and time again like a prayer to a deity. He came close to your face and looked into your eyes like he wanted you to internalize every single letter. Like he wanted to brand them into your soul. Coming from his own mouth, it felt like a brand-new word.

“Hyunjin.”

This was the first time you were seeing him this up close. It was still mind-blowing to witness someone this beautiful in the flesh. The only logical possibility was that all his features were custom-made. Otherwise, it really wasn’t fair game for the rest of the mortals walking this earth.

“Say, what was that thing in the vial?”

His smile grew bigger upon the question like he was expecting it all along, “Liquid aphrodisiac. You like how you’re feeling right now?”

Like? No, that feeling couldn’t be described as like. It felt like you were experiencing tiny orgasms every five seconds, not to mention the intense desire to jump on him right that second that you were fighting hard against.

“One more difference between my brother and me,” Hyunjin gently brushed his fingers against your cheek, “Unlike him, I happen to know the difference between fucking and making love.”

“How so?”

“Experience,” he leisurely threw his arm over your shoulder and started playing with your hair, “If you let me, I can make you cum just by kissing you long enough.”

That pride. The bragging. That fucking ostentatious vanity.

Hyunjin was actually fucking you right there. He was fucking you with his eyes. He was stripping you with his gaze. He was licking all over your body with his breath. He gently held your chin and pulled it closer to his face.

“Will you let me? Be my princess for tonight?”

There was no way you could find it in you to say no, very much courtesy of whatever sweetener you had with your tea. One touch and you were fucking gone. It was impossible to resist the amount of seductive charm he had. It was like he put you under a spell. He took the way you were staring at his perfect mouth as a yes and took your lips between his.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying. The level of sensuality he kissed you with was so damn high that you could actually have an explosive orgasm from this.

“Come.”

He held your hand to help you up and walked you to his bed, kissing his way into your defenses the entire time.

“I want you to trust me. You're safe here with me. Everything I’ll do is to make you feel good.”

He wrapped one hand around your waist and entangled the fingers of the other in your hair. You completely forgot what words were, just letting yourself get lost in his lips.

“And I promise you will,” he placed a kiss right on that sensitive spot behind your ear, “Just give in to me.”

That wasn’t even a matter of free will. When he kept talking against your skin, whispering ‘my princess’ over and over again in between his kisses, who the fuck were you to possess the willpower to resist him?

“You're perfection, you know?” he laid you down on his bed and hovered over you, “I've had my eyes on you for some time now. And you're finally letting me touch you.”

“You- You did?”

“Yes. People that possess your aura are my weakness,” Hyunjin slowly slid your robe off your shoulders to expose them and continued his tender assault with his lips, “You can kill a man with a snap of your finger, I know it. I just know it.”

He gently removed your nightgown and you shivered at the way the soft fabric brushed against you.

“Such delicate skin. Are you sensitive, princess?”

You felt exposed under him all of a sudden, but he put the robe back on. That along with your underwear were the only pieces of garment on you.

“Keep this on. I know it feels really good against your skin.”

God, this man… Hyunjin was kissing you everywhere. Your lips. Your breasts. Your arms. He was paying so much attention to every inch of your body that it was nothing short of worshipping you. Yet he was being so gentle with you that you couldn’t help but wonder what he could have possibly done to those other women to get them to scream like that.

Your crotch. Your thighs. Your legs.

“You’re fucking kidding me with this.”

His face got all twisted seeing your toe ring again. Just as you were thinking whether it was something that displeased him, you remembered how he gulped when he first noticed it just about an hour ago. As you were replaying that scene in your mind, Hyunjin bit on the ring to take it off and started sucking on your toes.

“I’m gonna make these curl for me so hard. Why are you this fucking beautiful?”

Hyunjin kept kissing your ankles and made his way up to your legs until he finally got comfortable between your legs. He was giving you so much attention that you were oozing, probably staining his sheets in the meantime. He groaned at the sight when he pulled your already ruined underwear to the side. He brushed his thumb against your folds, and the trail your arousal left on his fingers made him absolutely salivate.

“Creamy already. Just the way I like.”

The feeling was anticipated. He was going to make a move to eat you out. His tongue was going to be latched to your clit. Expected. Welcomed. Encouraged.

Yet when he closed his mouth over your pussy, you still jolted.

“Hyunjin—”

“God, you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he contorted his face out of sheer pleasure, “And I've tasted the rarest delicacies known to man.”

“Fuck! Swirl it.”

Hyunjin was used to his playthings staying put and doing as told. The only sounds that would ever come out of them were moans ripping from their throat, either due to pleasure or endurable pain. Either fake as hell, or genuine. He had even heard one of the lieutenants commenting that fucking the concubines in this place should have been considered borderline necrophilia the way they wouldn’t do anything rather than just laying there.

Hyunjin wasn’t used to this.

He wasn’t used to someone being vocal and talking back to him. He wasn’t used to being instructed, leading him to believe that everything he was doing was already twelve out of ten.

Then again, he had never been with someone who knew what they liked rather than what he liked. He smiled.

“Feels so good, doesn’t it princess?” he softly spoke against your pussy, “Don't be shy. Talk to me more. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“You’re a bit too good at this.”

You knew he was smugly grinning the way his cheekbones tensed between your legs.

“But I know you can make me feel better.”

“Better, huh?”

You groaned when he slipped his middle finger inside you.

“How’s this for better?”

“Hook it upwards now.”

“Like that?”

“FUCK, just like that!”

Hyunjin loved watching you crumble under him, but it wasn’t enough. You had to lose your mind for him to deem it acceptable. He went back to munching on your clit to assist the ministrations of his finger.

“You like it there, huh? You love it a bit too much when I do that,” he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his idle hand, “You’re dripping, princess. Do I turn you on that much?”

“Yes. God, yes!”

You could tell where on his body Hyunjin spritzed a few drops of perfume that night—it was his pulse points: wrists, neck, and right behind his ears. You knew that for a fact because the more his heart rate accelerated, the denser the fragrance became, enveloping the entire room within a golden bubble. It was somewhere between sweet and spicy like a decadent concoction of amber and oud. Simply erotic. The aroma traveled through your nostrils to dissolve on your taste buds, giving you an idea what his skin would taste like if you ran your tongue on it. The squelch coming from his slender finger pumping in and out of you were getting more obscene by the second although his ministrations were not rushed at all. Hyunjin was taking his time, relishing the feeling way too much, but the higher you soared, the more you were flowing on his fingers. As if all of that combined wasn’t overwhelming enough, there were too many things stimulating your tactile sense, as well. His soft locks under your touch, his pretty lips covering your pussy, his tongue drawing wet circles on your clit, his warm breath against your folds, his finger inside you, his left hand caressing your inner thigh…

He was nothing but a young god between your legs and you were fucking ascending. This was almost a religious experience the way he took you out of your body before you climaxed. The way you started tensing around him alerted Hyunjin that you were ready to crash into the ground headfirst in his mouth.

“That’s it, let go.”

“Hyunjin…”

“Moan my name when you cum. Scream it.”

“Hyunjin…”

“Dissolve on my tongue, beautiful.”

His fingering got more fervent and when he started full on making out with your clit, you fucking lost it.

“HYUNJIN!!!”

You never came like that before. All your senses overloaded with nothing but Hyunjin, nothing but the pleasure he was so eager to provide you, and your orgasm went straight to your head as you arched on his bed, holding onto his beautiful locks while riding out the remnants of your climax.

“Came so hard. Got way too high there, huh beautiful?” Hyunjin hovered over your body, plush lips wet with your cum ghosting over your heaving chest, “Just because you came once doesn’t mean I’m finished with you.”

He undid his silk belt with unrushed movements and trapped your body against his frame.

“Do you believe me now when I tell you I'm going to make you feel good?”

You nodded. You didn’t possess a shred of wit to produce a sound other than fading moans. He smiled at how high he was able to get you.

“Do you know what it means to submit, princess?”

You nodded again.

“I’ve trusted you with a secret of mine. Now I wanna share one between you and me.”

He helped you sit up and you briefly saw Hyunjin’s magnificent figure glowing in the moonlight filling the room to the brim like a spotlight. He looked fucking flawless. Then he tied his belt around your eyes.

“All I wanna do is make you feel good,” he whispered while laying you back down, “I don't want you to see me. Feel me instead.”

You heard some rustling, signaling you that Hyunjin was undressing himself. He grabbed your hand and guided it towards his crotch.

“Touch me. Feel how hard you get me.”

“Closer,” you whispered, “I wanna touch your body.”

God, he felt so smooth under your touch. Like marble. Warm marble that had blood running inside of it. You dragged your hand from his chest to his pecs and finally made it to his crotch.

“Feel it,” Hyunjin closed your fingers around his cock, “This is all because of you.”

He felt so warm and firm in your palm that being able to arouse a man this perfect made your pussy throb. He noticed the way you were clenching around nothing with just one touch.

“Closer,” you instructed him again, “I want a taste.”

Hyunjin offered his cock for you to wrap your lips around it. The second your tongue touched him, it elicited a loud moan out of him. You kept swirling your tongue around his length, slowly melting him in your mouth, but the stimulation was nowhere near enough for him.

“Fuck, you turn me on so bad, you have no idea. I can't fucking think straight because of you,” he softly pushed himself deeper into you, “Let me fuck that pretty mouth, beautiful.”

Your hands found their way to his hips, pushing him even closer to you. It was obvious that Hyunjin was trying to restrain himself from snapping and just burying himself down your throat. It felt too good, way too good when you began sucking him.

“Your lips… Fuck my entire life!”

Hyunjin could cum any minute—he was already on the brink of it from the way you were sucking his whole entire soul out of him, but that would be a shame. There were even prettier places on your body his cum could land on. It took an immense amount of willpower, but he managed to stop you. You smiled at him, eyes still seeing nothing but darkness.

“Did you know you taste really good, prince?”

He chuckled. Obviously he knew. He had to.

“You’re gonna submit to me now, princess.”

You nodded. There was some clatter coming from your right side, possibly from his nightstand drawer. Now you didn’t know what to expect, and that anticipation was weirdly arousing.

You felt something cold between your breasts, most likely a piece of metal, and it made you tickle. Not shiver, tickle. You giggled.

You weren’t able to see it, but it caught Hyunjin off guard. Nobody had ever giggled at the feeling of a knife on them before.

He kept dragging the blunt blade on your skin and then up to your throat, very careful with his movements. Maybe if you saw what it was it could have made you panic, but the feeling was very similar to him dragging a comb on your body. This was just a scene.

He attached his plush lips to your neck, exactly where the blade was just a moment ago. His kisses were very wet. Very warm. Like he was trying to cover the chill of the metal with a soft blanket. He kept ghosting his lips against yours, and you could feel his breath condensing on you.

Then he slowly dragged the blade down your torso and reached the waistband of your underwear. You felt the fabric being cut from the sides, yet your breathing was still steady. He didn’t scare you.

Hyunjin was not used to the lack of fear during this act. That trust did something to his insides and started messing with his head. He gulped so thickly you could actually hear how dry his throat was.

“No one has ever reacted to me like this.”

“Maybe no one has ever given it a fair chance,” you uttered with a soft voice. You heard him chuckle again.

You heard the opening and closing of the door of the little freezer that was on the corner, then felt Hyunjin climbing back onto the bed. He positioned himself between your legs again, and judging from the way you could feel his breathing on your pussy, now exposed due to your underwear being ripped from the sides, he was at eye level with you.

“Guess what this is.”

When Hyunjin pressed something very cold on your labia, you instinctively flinched at the feeling.

“Is that ice?”

“Depends,” he dragged the frozen mass towards your entrance like he was dipping strawberries in chocolate, “I personally think it’s cream.”

You felt the ice cube barely making it inside you, but rather than pushing it inside, Hyunjin was moving it around like he was cleaning your cum with it. Then you felt him over you, devouring your lips to share one of his lustful kisses along with that piece of ice in his mouth. He could feel the tiniest bit of his sanity getting murdered when you took the ice from his mouth and crushed it between your teeth. It indeed tasted like you. He finally took off the belt from your eyes and locked his gaze with yours.

“You’re the most instant addiction, beautiful.”

You could kiss him for hours. Days. Weeks if he let you. He didn’t feel like a prince at that moment. Just some man, a criminally beautiful man a bit too twisted for his own good due to who knows what he had been through. He traded places with you and laid down on his back. You eyed his nightstand as you straddled him.

“Is that a massage candle?”

“You know what it is?”

“It’s the container,” you reached for the matte black glass harboring a playfully dancing flame in it, “It’s shaped like a beaker. I assume you like this?”

“I really do.”

You dipped your finger into the molten candle, now just warm oil to check the temperature. It smelled so pleasant.

“Do you like direct contact or—?”

“Direct.”

Well, that was fast. Who knew looking from afar that this prince liked fucking people on balconies and getting wax dripped on his naked body? The things people harbored inside them…

You blew the candle out, letting the little white smoke slither around the bed like a ghost haunting the room, and began dripping the wax on his unreal figure. You thought it was maybe hurting him, but Hyunjin kept quietly moaning at the sensation. Then you began spreading the oil all over his chest like you were trying to preserve him in the aroma of desire. You could tell how much he loved the way you were touching him.

“I was right. You can indeed kill a man if you want to, princess,” he sank his teeth into his lips, taking in the sight of you towering over him, “Show me how you do it. Kill me.”

You smiled, but that smile was laced with a tinge of something perverse rather than affection.

“Where do you keep your condoms?”

He looked at his nightstand to signal you where it was. While you were going through the drawer, you witnessed just how much the prince liked to have his little fun from the contents of it.

Too much.

You put on the condom and climbed on top of him again, finally about to satisfy that curiosity of what he would feel like inside you. You positioned his cock against your entrance and slowly sank on him, causing Hyunjin’s eyes to immediately roll back at the sensation.

“Move with me.”

What would he feel like inside you? He would feel like hell and heaven at the same time.

Hyunjin grabbed your hips and began fucking into you hard from under you. You remembered that rawness. You remembered the way he transformed when he was way too consumed in lust, and it was bleeding through his pretty façade again. His large hand found its way to your throat and started lightly choking you as you kept riding him. While you held onto his wrist with one hand, the fingers of your idle one entangled into his soft locks and pulled on them.

His moans got way louder.

You had only heard the women before. Not him. And it messed with your head so bad.

“Pull harder. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard,” Hyunjin’s thrusts were as rough as they could be by then, “God, you get me weak as fuck, beautiful!”

You. You got the prince weak as fuck. The prince that kept telling you to give into him. That couldn’t scare you with his little knife trick. And he was asking you to pull his hair harder. If that didn’t mean he was at your mercy right then and there, then what did?

Oh, god.

You clenched around him so hard.

“Fuck, please… If you keep doing that I’ll cum inside.”

He was so far gone that he actually forgot about the condom you put on him. Now was your chance to mess with his head for good.

“What if I want you to? What if I’m trying to trap you, your grace?”

“Do you- Do you want me to-?”

“It was a fucking mistake rawdogging me, you see?” your smile was as deranged as his was, “Now you’re gonna give it to me and give it to me so good.”

“FUCK!”

Hyunjin indeed came so hard and so much, frantically convulsing under you as waves after waves of his orgasm washed over him. You could actually feel the condom being filled to the brim inside of you. Once he managed to come down, you placed a kiss on his forehead to let him sleep and go back to your own room, but the second your feet touched the ground, Hyunjin did something he had never done before. He instantly grabbed your wrist like he was holding on for dear life and pulled you back to bed, his chest flush against your back and his arms wrapped around you. It felt like his bed was the night sky and he was the full moon, and it was indeed really pretty that night.

“Sleep in my arms tonight, princess.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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

I apologize if this chapter required an intense desire to shower immediately. It will happen again.

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

-R. (CB97%)

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