Secretly a mermaid and an old British woman at heart 💕 29, somewhat thriving, sailor moon, kpop, and anime obsessed. Momma shark 🦈 your local sad millennial who's always smiling 🙃 minors dni, I'm too old for you.
Felix is the type of guy to beg you to put on a horror movie despite his well-know poor tolerance for them. He'll be convincing, smooth voice promising that he won't back out midway, pecking off the skeptical frown that creases your face.
Felix is the type of guy who uses his cowardice as the perfect excuse to slip under the covers while you're distracted. heart beating faster, you barely notice his disappearance until a warm palm slides down your legs, soothing the arising goosebumps.
Felix who'd ignore the confused questions that leaves your mouth, answering them through his actions by pressing a kiss to the expanse of your thigh.
Felix is the type to hush you, telling you to focus back onto the movie. but it's just impossible when he's rucking your shirt up your stomach, planting slow kisses to your tummy and below your belly-button. nibbling onto the meat of your thighs. the movie fades into white noises.
Felix who kisses you over your panties. a tease before licking a strip of the damp fabric, groaning at the faint taste that hits him. soon growing sick of his own antics, pushing the fabric aside to his meal.
Felix who wastes no time in enveloping his puffy lips around your clit, sucking lightly before laying his tongue flat against your folds. licking a fat stripe off your arousal.
Felix whose confidence spikes with how you grip the covers above him, arm sliding underneath the sheets to take a hold of his hair. the fact that you can't see him turns him on the most.
He'll feel you getting closer, bridging over as he eases you through it with slow, loving, movements of his mouth against you. well, that's how he views it. for truth, he's spreading your folds apart, tongue diving and making out with your cunt. low groans vibrating through your clit as he sucks on it. taking in your shakiness, he'll let you cum all over his face, happily slurping the fluids that leaks out of you.
Felix is the type to heave back up jolly. cute smile adorning his expression while his mouth glistens under the dim lighting of the movie. Pecking your lips while assuring you that you did good. however, he brings your wrist to his bulge, palming the fabric of his pants. relationships are give and take, right? he's scared too, please take care of him.
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other member ver: bangchan lee know changbin hyunjin han felix seungmin i.n
Playlist:ruin my life: zara larson I all of the girls you loved before:taylor swift |butterflies: kacey musgraves | i wanna be yours:artic monkeys |
Summary: To the Kingdom of Hespros, Jeonghan is a silver-haired storm of pure, unfiltered energy, a tournament victor who treats his crown like a toy and diplomacy like a game of dare. He’s impulsive, brilliant, and completely unmanageable, which is exactly why the King anchors him to Y/N, the soft-spoken, steely daughter of the Iron Coast sent to stabilize his chaotic reputation. Raised in a world of grey stone and strict discipline, Y/N arrives loathing his lack of restraint, while Jeonghan becomes instantly, dangerously addicted to the challenge of cracking her icy composure. He spends his nights dragging his "enemy" into midnight escapades and high-stakes trouble, thriving on the adrenaline of almost getting her caught just to see her perfect facade slip. Yet, beneath his cheeky provocations, Jeonghan is haunted by the quiet fear that his passion is unrequited. Convinced he’s just a beautiful disaster ruining her life, while she’s only enduring his presence as a royal duty. He has no idea that every rule he forces her to break feels like a revelation; while he worries he’s a habit she’s trying to quit, Y/N is secretly falling for the fire he’s sparked in her, realizing she’d rather be ruined by him than saved by anyone else.
The bells of Hespros were supposed to be ringing for a wedding. Instead, they rang for a trophy that felt like a lead weight in Jeonghan’s hands. He rode through the city gates, his pitch black hair catching the sun, his face a perfectly constructed mask of "charming victor" as he waved to the crowds. He’d won the tournament, outmatched every knight in the South, and yet the only prize he’d truly wanted, the physical alliance with the Southern throne, had slipped through his fingers when the Princess of the South chose another.
He knew what was waiting for him inside the palace. He knew the temperature of his father’s rage.
Jeonghan didn't wait for a servant to announce him. He strolled into the private royal solar, his boots clicking rhythmically against the marble. "I hope the wine hasn’t gone sour," he called out, his voice a smooth, melodic drawl. "Winning a tournament for a kingdom that doesn't want you is surprisingly thirsty work."
“The wine hasn’t gone sour, but your time as a young bachelor might have,” Jeonghan’s father said, from behind him. He positioned himself right beside the door, so Jeonghan couldn't see him immediately.
Jeonghan sighed and smoothly turned around to face his father, “am I not allowed one evening to celebrate my victory father?”
Jeongahn’s father sighed, and pushed himself off the wall, a goblet in hand. “That was not a victory, Jeonghan. You did not secure a marriage.”
“No, but I secured an alliance.”
“We do not need just an alliance. We need you to get married. You need to secure the royal line. Especially now that your sister has married Jeon.”
Jeonghan scoffed and shook his head a little. He had thought his father had accepted his sister's husband. “I thought you liked Wonwoo?”
“I do,” he replied, handing him the goblet. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t ignore the facts. He does not have royal lineage, therefore they and their offspring can not inherit the throne. It is up to you Jeonghan.”
“No pressure father,” Jeonghan scoffed and his father grabbed his arm firmly. It was not time to make jokes.
“There should be pressure. You allowed your sister to get close with the Jeon boy. Now it is your responsibility to deal with their actions.”
Jeonghan’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t think marrying his sister and her guard would make his life so much harder.
“You should have thought of that before letting the princess go as well.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes and took a sip of whatever was in the goblet. “I know you think that not marrying the princess is not a big deal, but you are almost twenty four. We have been more than generous enough in not pushing anyone down your throat for six years, but people are starting to question whether or not you want to take care of the kingdom.”
Jeonghan scoffed, “is giving up my entire childhood to this kingdom not enough?”
Jeonghan always had more responsibilities than his sister. When she had to take etiquette and ballroom classes, Jeonghan had to learn the ways to run a kingdom. He had to learn how to keep the balance without ruining each aspect of the kingdom, which was ultimately, way more stressful.
The king didn't even look up from the map he was studying, his indifference a sharper blade than any direct insult.
“No, it is not enough,” the King said flatly. “Because a childhood spent in preparation is a debt you owe the blood in your veins. You speak as if you were a martyr for learning the ledger, yet you stand before me now behaving as if you’ve never seen one. You are the future of Hespros, Jeonghan. And the future cannot be built on drinking games and fountain-jumping.”
Jeonghan’s grip tightened on the goblet, the silver metal groaning under the pressure of his fingers. He felt the familiar, hot prickle of resentment rising up his throat. He had been a miniature adult at seven, a strategist at twelve, and a shadow-king at eighteen. Yet to his father, he was perpetually a disappointment.
“The Southern Princess was your chance to prove you understood that,” the King continued, finally turning to face him. His eyes were hard, devoid of the warmth a father should have for a son. “Instead, you played the fool, and she chose a man who understands that a crown is a crown, not a costume. So, since you cannot be trusted to choose for the benefit of this realm, I have chosen for you.”
The King gestured toward the door, where Y/N was waiting in the hallway, caught in the suffocating silence of the palace.
“Y/N of the Iron Coast will be here to ensure that your 'spontaneity' has an end date. She is the anchor. You will marry her, you will produce an heir, and you will finally stop acting as if the world is a stage for your amusement.”
Jeonghan sighed, and chugged the rest of this wine, before leaving the room to drink his sorrows away from his father.
When the news of the betrothal between Crown Prince Jeonghan and the Mystical Princess Y/N broke, it sent a shockwave through the Iron Coast that echoed across the entire realm. Hespros was the largest and most gilded kingdom in existence, and its people were fueled by a desperate, gossiping hope: they wanted to see their mischievous prince finally tamed. They wanted the "Silver Storm" anchored before he could blow the kingdom down.
Yet, while the realm knew every one of Jeonghan’s scandals by heart, the princess remained a complete mystery. To the golden halls of Hespros, Y/N was nothing but a whisper from the fog. A mystery wrapped in obsidian and salt. The only fragments of truth the gossip could cling to were that she was the youngest in a powerful lineage of women, and that she possessed a talent for the piano that was said to be as haunting as the Iron Coast itself. They expected a quiet girl to play pretty songs in the parlor; they had no idea she was the eye of the storm Jeonghan had been running toward his entire life.
When Y/N had found out about her engagement to the crown Prince, she had just nodded and retreated back to the only room in the castle that she felt safe in. The music room.
It was a place where the air always felt heavy, charged with the same low hum that vibrated through the cliffs outside. Music was a solitary path in her house; her sisters had long ago claimed their own territories. The eldest was already a shadow to their mother, consumed by the intense mechanics of ruling the kingdom, while the two middle sisters found their peace in the hearth and the alchemy of baking. But for Y/N, the piano was her voice. In a family of steel and fire, she was the one who translated the sound of the tides into melody. As she sat at the bench, her fingers ghosting over the keys, she knew her life on the Coast was over. She was being sent to a golden cage in the South, and for the first time, she wondered if the "Silver Storm" of Hespros was loud enough to drown out the music she carried inside.
“How are you feeling?”
The voice belonged to Yunjin, the eldest. She stood in the arched doorway of the music room, her silhouette framed by the dim, silvery light of the hallway. Of all the sisters, Yunjin was the one carved from the same stone as Y/N; they shared the same observant eyes and the same habit of listening to what went unsaid. It made them natural allies in a household that often felt as loud as the crashing surf, and it meant Yunjin could see right through the perfect stillness of Y/N’s shoulders.
Yunjin stepped into the room, her boots silent on the obsidian floor. She knew the news of the Hespros betrothal would have shaken her youngest sister to the core, but she also knew that Y/N’s stubborn nature was a fortress. Y/N wouldn’t pace, she wouldn't cry, and she certainly wouldn’t complain. She would simply sit at her piano and wait for the world to move around her.
Y/N’s fingers pressed a final, dissonant chord, the vibration humming through the wood of the piano and up her arms. She didn’t look up, her gaze fixed on the ivory keys as if they were the only thing tethering her to the ground.
“I am worried they will not have a piano in Hespros,” she said, her voice small but steady.
It was a deflection, and they both knew it. It was easier to mourn the loss of a wooden instrument than to admit to the cold, sharp fright blooming in her chest, the terror of being uprooted from the salt-mist of the Coast and handed over to a man she had never met. A man who, by all accounts, was a chaotic fire that would surely consume someone as quiet as her.
Yunjin let out a soft, knowing huff of air, reaching down to gently nudge Y/N’s shoulder with her own. “Hespros is the wealthiest kingdom in the realm, little bird. They likely have a dozen pianos, each one dripping in more gold than this entire wing of the castle.”
She paused, her expression softening as she saw the way Y/N’s knuckles remained white.
“But I know it isn't the instrument you're worried about. You're worried they won't have the silence you need to play it. Or that the Prince will be too loud to hear you.” Yunjin reached out, covering Y/N’s hand with her own, her grip as firm as the iron that lined their shores. “He is a storm, yes. But remember what Mother always says: the Coast doesn’t fear the storm. We’re the ones who outlast it.”
Y/N finally looked up, her dark eyes reflecting the dim glow of the sea-star lanterns. “I don't want to outlast him, Yunjin. I just don't want to be extinguished by him.”
Yunjin’s voice had that certain iron-clad quality to it, the kind of tone that didn't just offer comfort, but stated a fact of the universe. She reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Y/N’s ear, her touch lingering for a second too long as if trying to transfer some of her own composure to her younger sister.
“You won’t, Y/N,” Yunjin repeated, her smile softening even as her gaze remained sharp. “Fire needs air to breathe, and you... you are the deep water. You don't realize yet that a storm can’t burn anything that is already submerged. If anything, he’s the one who should be worried about his flame going out.”
Y/N’s small smile was a fragile thing, but it was enough to steady her as the final days on the Iron Coast bled into hours. The reality of her father’s decree had finally settled: this wasn't a mere visit to discuss terms. It was a relocation. She was leaving the salt-mist and obsidian for a land of gold and sun, and she was doing it alone.
The hardest part wasn't the packing; it was the severing of ties. The goodbye to her friends had been hurried and hollow, filled with the kind of forced optimism that only made the heartache sharper.
But it was Soojin, her ladies' maid, who finally broke through Y/N’s composure. The command from Hespros had been cold and absolute: The Princess is to bring only herself. It was a subtle way of saying they intended to strip her of her Coast identity and dress her in Hespros silk from the moment she arrived.
“Promise me that you won’t forget who you are, my lady?” Soojin asked, the words catching on a sob as she folded a heavy, sea-teal cloak.
The fabric was woven from the thick, coarse wool of the Iron Coast, designed to repel the damp mist and the biting salt-winds of the cliffs. In the sweltering, golden heat of Hespros, such a garment would be stifling, a relic of a world that didn't know the sun could be so cruel.
Y/N reached out, taking Soojin’s trembling hands in hers. The silence of the room was heavy, smelling of the lavender sachets they used for the linens and the ever-present scent of the sea.
“Of course, Soojin. You know me,” Y/N said, her voice surprisingly firm despite the fright still flickering in her chest. She forced a brave smile, the kind she had practiced in the mirror for years, the one that projected the calm of the deep water, even when the surface was beginning to chop. “A new maid and a new palace won't change what’s written in my blood. I am of the Iron Coast. We don't break; we just endure.”
She gave Soojin’s hands a final squeeze, a silent promise to hold onto her "mystical" roots even when surrounded by the "Silver Storm" and his golden kingdom.
The departure was the final crack in the foundation of her life. Y/N’s sisters weren't coming with her to the South, so they gathered at the front gates of the Iron Coast to see her off. They stood in a line against the backdrop of the churning sea, a row of powerful women who had always been her shield. Now, that shield was being dismantled.
Yunjin was the last to let go of her hand. She didn't say anything more, but her grip was tight, a silent reminder of their conversation in the music room. The two middle sisters offered her small tokens. A pressed flower from the hearth and a heavy silver ring, while the salt-wind whipped their hair into their faces.
Then, the carriage door closed. The iron-bound wheels began to grind against the stone, and the only sound Y/N could hear was the fading rhythm of the waves.
The journey south was a long transition from the familiar to the unknown. As the carriage rolled away from the Iron Coast, Y/N watched her sisters through the glass. They stood as a united front at the stone gates. Yunjin stood at the center, her gaze steady and her head held high. She didn't wave, but the way she watched the carriage until it disappeared was its own kind of goodbye. It was a silent command for Y/N to remain as unshakeable as the cliffs they called home.
By the time the carriage crossed the border into Hespros, the world had changed. The damp, grey mist of the North was burned away by a sun that felt aggressive and intrusive. The arrival at the palace was a sensory assault. The architecture of Hespros was not built for defense or endurance like the Iron Coast. It was built for vanity. Every pillar was wrapped in gold leaf, and every garden was filled with flowers that smelled cloyingly sweet. The air was thick and stagnant, lacking the salt-sting that Y/N used to breathe.
As the carriage door opened, the heat hit her like a physical blow. She stepped out, her heavy sea-teal skirts looking like a dark inkblot against the white marble of the courtyard. A steward led her through the labyrinth of the palace. He walked with a stiff, practiced grace that made Y/N feel even more like an outsider. Behind her, she could hear the quiet scuff of the servants’ shoes and the low murmurs of the courtiers. They peered at her from behind silk fans and arched doorways. To them, she was the "Mystical Princess," a curiosity brought in to fix their broken prince.
She focused on the rhythm of her own footsteps. She kept her spine straight and her face a mask of polite indifference. She was not a guest here. She was a strategic placement. They finally reached the hallway outside the King’s study. The steward paused and gestured for her to wait, his eyes lingering on her dark tunic with a look of quiet disapproval. Y/N ignored him. She turned her attention to the massive oak doors in front of her.
The wood was thick, but it wasn't thick enough to drown out the voice coming from the other side. It was a voice that sounded like a beautiful, jagged disaster.
“Is giving up my entire childhood to this kingdom not enough?”
The words were sharp and filled with a raw, bleeding resentment. Y/N felt a sudden, sharp pang of recognition. This was the Silver Storm. He wasn't just being difficult. He was fighting a war against a life he never asked for.
The King’s voice replied, cold and resonant. “You are the future of Hespros, Jeonghan. And the future cannot be built on drinking games and fountain-jumping.”
Y/N took a steadying breath. She thought of Yunjin’s words about the deep water. She smoothed the dark fabric of her dress and prepared herself to walk into the fire.
“Y/N of the Iron Coast will be here to ensure that your 'spontaneity' has an end date,” the King’s voice boomed. “She is the anchor.”
The doors groaned open. Y/N didn't hesitate. She stepped into the sunlight, her shadow stretching long and dark across the polished floor toward the man who was already prepared to hate her.
Y/N stepped through the heavy oak doors just as the King finished speaking. The sunlight of the Southern kingdom flooded the room, but she carried her own shadow with her. She didn't look at the Prince. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed squarely on the King, offering a bow that was perfectly measured and technically flawless. It was the bow of a princess who knew her worth, yet it remained entirely devoid of warmth.
“Your Majesty,” she said, her voice clear and cool like the northern currents. “I have arrived as requested. The Iron Coast sends its regards, along with the hope that this union brings the stability you seek.”
Jeonghan was leaning against the edge of a massive mahogany desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He had been prepared to tear her apart with a single look. He had expected her to be shrinking, or perhaps wide-eyed and desperate for his approval. He had even practiced a mocking smirk to welcome the girl who was meant to be his cage.
But she didn't even give him the chance to use it.
She stood there, a vision of sea-teal and silver, speaking to his father as if Jeonghan were nothing more than a piece of furniture. Her profile was steady, her jaw set in a line of quiet strength. She didn't cast a single curious glance in his direction. She didn't seek out the "Silver Storm" everyone had warned her about.
Jeonghan felt a strange, sharp prick of irritation. It was followed quickly by a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time: genuine curiosity. He shifted his weight, his eyes narrowing as he tracked the way she moved. She was so still, so composed, that she made the rest of the room feel frantic by comparison.
“You’ve traveled a long way, Princess,” the King said, his voice dropping the harsh edge he had used with his son. “My son, the Crown Prince, was just expressing his... enthusiasm for your arrival.”
At the mention of his title, Y/N finally allowed her gaze to shift, but only slightly. She didn't turn her head. She merely tilted her chin, her eyes stopping at the level of the King’s shoulder, refusing to meet Jeonghan’s intense stare.
“I am sure the Prince has many responsibilities to attend to,” she replied softly, her words laced with a subtle, mystical weight. “I would hate to be the cause of any further resentment regarding his time.”
Jeonghan let out a short, dry laugh that was half-scoff and half-intrigue. He pushed himself off the desk, taking a slow, predatory step toward her. He wanted to see her flinch. He wanted to see those calm eyes break.
“Resentment is a strong word, Princess,” Jeonghan said, his voice dropping into that smooth, dangerous velvet. “I was thinking more along the lines of boredom. But you don't look very boring, do you?”
Y/N still didn't look at him. She simply smoothed the silver embroidery on her cuff and turned her focus back to the King.
“If it pleases Your Majesty, I would like to see the music room before the evening's festivities,” she said.
Jeonghan stopped in his tracks, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second. She had dismissed him. In his own palace, in front of his own father, she had looked right through him as if he were made of glass. He watched the way the sunlight caught the dark teal of her dress, and for the first time in his life, the Prince of Hespros found himself wanting to be the one who finally made someone look his way.
The King let out a small huff of amusement. He had clearly recognized the way she brushed off his son, and the subtle shift in the room's power dynamic seemed to please him. He gave a sharp nod and pointed toward Jeonghan.
“Jeonghan. Will you escort the princess to the music hall?”
The Prince froze for a heartbeat. He had spent the last hour fighting his father for every inch of his autonomy, yet now he found himself assigned as a glorified tour guide to the woman who wouldn't even look him in the eye. He looked at Y/N, waiting for her to show some sign of victory or perhaps a smirk of her own.
But she remained perfectly still. Her gaze was still directed toward a point somewhere past the King’s shoulder, her expression as unreadable as the deep ocean. She didn't look triumphant. She looked bored.
“It would be my absolute pleasure,” Jeonghan said. His voice was thick with a sarcasm that was meant to bite, but there was a new edge of alertness in his eyes. He stepped forward, sweeping a low, exaggerated bow that was entirely too graceful for a man who claimed to hate his royal training. He extended his arm toward her, his fingers steady. “If the Princess can find it in her busy schedule to walk with a common disappointment like myself.”
Y/N finally turned her head. She didn't look at his face. Instead, she looked at his extended arm with the same clinical interest one might give a strange insect. After a pause that lasted just a second too long, she placed the tips of her fingers on his sleeve. She didn't lean into him. She didn't even grip the fabric. She touched him as if she were afraid the gold embroidery of his suit might rub off on her.
“The King’s request is my priority,” she said simply.
Jeonghan felt the light pressure of her touch through the silk of his sleeve, and it felt remarkably cold. It was a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the palace. He led her toward the doors, his stride slow and deliberate. He wanted to force her to speak. He wanted to break that suffocating, northern silence she carried around her like a shroud.
As they stepped out into the hallway, away from the King’s watchful eyes, Jeonghan leaned in closer. The scent of her hit him then. She didn't smell like the heavy perfumes of the court. She smelled like salt, rain, and something ancient.
“You know,” he whispered, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial purr, “my father thinks you’re the anchor that’s going to stop my ship from sinking. But I’ve always found that anchors are very easy to cut loose once you’re far enough out at sea.”
Y/N didn't flinch. She didn't even skip a beat in her step. She kept her eyes focused on the hallway ahead, the rhythmic clicking of her boots against the marble the only sound between them.
“A ship that cuts its anchor in a storm usually ends up in pieces on the rocks, Prince Jeonghan,” she replied. Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a prophecy. “But I suppose we shall see which of us is the one who survives the crash.”
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his steps slowing as he processed the quiet venom in her tone. He had spent years dealing with courtiers who tripped over their own feet to flatter him and a father who treated him like a failing investment, but he had never encountered someone who spoke of his destruction with such calm, melodic indifference.
“Is that a threat, Princess?” he asked. He came to a full stop in the center of the sun-drenched gallery, forcing her to either stop with him or pull her hand from his arm. “Because on the Coast, you might be the deep water, but here? Here, the sun bleeds everything dry. Even the tides.”
Y/N stopped, but she didn't pull away. She finally turned her head, her gaze climbing slowly from his shoulder to his jaw, and finally to his eyes. Up close, his eyes were a storm of their own, restless and silver, framed by hair that looked like spun moonlight. He was undeniably beautiful, but he was also vibrating with a chaotic energy that felt like a direct insult to the silence she craved.
“It is not a threat,” she said. Her voice remained cool, a stark contrast to the shimmering heat radiating off the golden walls. “It is a calculation. You view me as a weight around your neck, and I view this palace as a cage with too many windows. We are both trapped, Jeonghan. The difference is that I know how to exist in the dark, while you seem intent on burning yourself out just to prove you can glow.”
Jeonghan felt a sharp, genuine spark of irritation. She was reading him too easily. She was looking at the Prince of Hespros and seeing the exhaustion he hid behind his drinking games and his defiance.
“You talk like a funeral dirge,” he muttered, though his grip on his own composure was slipping. He started walking again, his pace more hurried now, as if he were trying to outrun the weight of her words. “Let’s get you to your piano. Perhaps if you’re busy making noise, you’ll stop trying to dissect my soul.”
“I have no interest in your soul, Prince,” Y/N replied, her voice trailing after him like a cool breeze. “I just want to see if your piano is out of tune. It would be a shame if the only thing in this kingdom with any harmony was broken.”
Jeonghan didn't respond, but the muscle in his jaw jumped. He led her toward the tall, arched doors of the music hall, his mind already racing. He had expected an anchor, something heavy and dull to hold him back. Instead, he had been handed a mirror, and for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure he liked what was looking back at him.
The moment the heavy doors to the music hall creaked open, the sharp tension between them didn't vanish, but it shifted. The room was cavernous, filled with light that bounced off gilded moldings and silk tapestries, but Y/N saw none of it. Her eyes locked onto the grand instrument sitting in the center of the rotunda.
It was a masterpiece of dark rosewood and ivory, looking almost out of place amidst the aggressive gold of the rest of the palace.
The cold, distant mask she had worn since stepping off the carriage finally slipped. Her shoulders, which had been set in a rigid line of defense, softened. She released Jeonghan’s arm without a word, her movements suddenly fluid and purposeful as she crossed the marble floor.
Jeonghan stayed back, leaning against the doorframe. He had been ready to snap back at her funeral dirge comment, but the words died in his throat. He watched the way she approached the piano, not like a princess claiming a prize, but like a traveler finally finding a well in the middle of a desert.
She reached out, her fingers hovering just a fraction of an inch above the polished wood before she finally let them touch the surface. The way she looked at the instrument was the first bit of genuine emotion he had seen from her. It wasn't the "Quiet Strength" she had shown his father; it was a raw, aching reverence.
Y/N sat on the bench, her back straight but no longer stiff. She pressed a single key. The note was middle C, and it rang out through the hall, clear and resonant. She closed her eyes, tilting her head as if listening to the way the sound decayed against the high ceilings.
“It’s in tune,” she whispered, mostly to herself.
Jeonghan watched her from the shadows of the doorway, his curiosity deepening into something more unsettling. The girl who had just treated him like a nuisance was gone. In her place was someone who looked entirely too fragile for the storm he had planned to unleash on her.
“My mother had it brought from the North years ago,” Jeonghan said, his voice losing some of its biting edge. “She said the Southern wood was too soft for real music. It warped in the heat.”
Y/N didn't look at him, but her fingers began to dance over the keys in a silent scale. “Your mother was right. Some things need the cold to keep their shape.”
She finally looked up, and for the first time, she didn't look through him. She looked at him, her dark eyes reflecting the golden light of the hall, but her expression was still guarded.
“Are you going to stand there and wait for me to break it, Prince? Or are you going to leave me to the only silence I’m likely to find in this palace?”
Jeonghan just shrugged and threw his hands up in innocence, a lazy, unbothered gesture that didn't match the intense focus in his eyes.
“I’m just a tour guide following orders, Princess,” he said, stepping away from the doorframe. Instead of leaving, he strolled over to a velvet-cushioned chaise lounge a few feet away and dropped onto it with practiced elegance. He draped one arm over the backrest, watching her with a crooked, challenging smile. “Besides, if you break my mother’s favorite instrument, I want to be the first one to tell my father it was your fault.”
Y/N didn't reply to the bait. She simply looked away, letting the silence settle between them once more. If he wanted to watch, she couldn't stop him, but she could choose to ignore him.
She turned back to the keys, taking a deep breath of the air that felt a little less suffocating now that she was sitting before the familiar dark wood. Her hands hovered over the ivory for a brief heartbeat before she finally let them fall.
The melody she chose was not a bright, triumphant piece meant for a royal court. It was a traditional song from the Iron Coast, a slow, swelling rhythm that captured the steady rise and fall of the northern tides. The music started low, mimicking the quiet roll of the waves against the obsidian cliffs, before growing more complex, the notes weaving together like a heavy mist rolling over the sea.
Jeonghan’s teasing smirk faded almost instantly.
He sat perfectly still, his silver hair catching the golden sunlight as he watched her fingers fly across the keys. There was no hesitation in her movements. The guarded, distant girl who had spoken to his father with calculated frost was completely gone. In her place was someone raw, passionate, and entirely commanding. She played with a fierce, quiet intensity that seemed to pull the very air out of the room, turning the oppressive Southern heat into something cool and vast.
As the piece reached its crescendo, full of deep, echoing chords that vibrated through the marble floor, Jeonghan found himself leaning forward. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He had spent his whole life trying to make enough noise to drown out the expectations of his kingdom, but the music she was making didn't just drown things out. It rebuilt the world around them.
For the first time since she had walked through the palace doors, Jeonghan realized that his father hadn't just brought him an anchor. He had brought him a force of nature.
“What was that piece called?” He asked, standing up and slowly walked to her.
“Of salt and steel,” she replied.
Jeonghan stopped just a few feet away from the bench, the name of the piece hanging in the air between them like a challenge.
“Of salt and steel,” he repeated, testing the words on his tongue as if trying to find a flaw in them. “A bit literal, don't you think? You Northerners really love to remind everyone where you come from.”
Y/N didn't lift her hands from the keys, though the last note had completely faded into the high rafters of the room. She kept her gaze on the dark rosewood of the piano, her chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm.
“It is not a reminder, Prince Jeonghan. It is a fact,” she said, her voice dropping back into that quiet, steady frequency that made him feel like he was trying to catch a shadow. “When you live on cliffs that are constantly beaten by the sea, you don't have the luxury of pretending the world is soft. You learn what keeps you anchored, or you get swept away.”
Jeonghan took another slow step forward, closing the remaining distance until he was standing right beside the piano. He leaned against the polished frame, tilting his head to look down at her profile. The sunlight was starting to shift, casting long, golden lines across the floor, but up close, he could see the faint silver thread in her collar gleaming in the light.
“And here I thought it was just a song,” he murmured, his tone losing its usual mocking edge, replaced by that low, velvet curiosity that had been building since she first walked into his father's study. He looked at her hands, still resting gracefully on the ivory keys. “You play like you’re trying to tear the strings out, but you look like you’re barely breathing. It’s a very confusing performance.”
Y/N finally tilted her chin up, her eyes meeting his silver gaze directly for the first time without looking past him or through him.
“Perhaps you are just used to people who make a great deal of noise to hide how hollow they are,” she replied softly.
Jeonghan let out a short, quiet laugh, but this time there was no bite to it. He looked down at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to read the calm water of her expression.
“Touché, Princess,” he said, a genuine smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You might just survive this palace after all.”
Jeonghan stayed leaning against the piano for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on her face before he finally straightened up. He took a slow step back, giving her a bit of space, but his eyes never left hers.
“You know, my father thinks you are here to fix me,” he said, his voice dropping into a quiet, almost playful tone as he gestured vaguely to the room around them. “He thinks a good northern anchor is exactly what a reckless prince needs to finally line up and play the part.”
Y/N didn't move. She kept her hands resting lightly on the keys, her fingers still feeling the faint, lingering warmth of the wood.
“And what do you think, Prince Jeonghan?” she asked, her voice steady and smooth.
Jeonghan let out a quiet breath, a small, knowing smile touching his lips. He tilted his head, studying the way the golden southern light caught the deep teal of her dress, making her look entirely out of place yet completely commanding.
“I think he underestimated the deep water,” Jeonghan murmured, his silver eyes flashing with a spark of genuine amusement. “An anchor just holds a ship in place. But you look like the kind of storm that rewrites the map entirely.”
He turned toward the large, arched windows, looking out at the sun-drenched courtyard below before looking back at her. The mocking, defensive walls he usually kept up around the palace felt a little lower now, replaced by a quiet, lingering intrigue.
“Come along, Princess,” he said, extending his arm toward her once more, though this time the gesture felt less like a sarcastic royal duty and more like a genuine invitation. “The evening festivities will be starting soon, and we wouldn't want to keep the court waiting. They are all dying to see the girl who managed to make the Silver Storm hold his breath.”
The first dinner in Hespros was much more extravagant than anything Y/N had experienced at home. Here, there are dozens of different meats and fruits, steaming fresh loaves of bread, and enough wine to drown the continent. Back at home meals consisted of fish and potatoes. The food was delicious at home, but there was not much variety.
Sitting at the long, gilded banquet table, Y/N felt the sheer excess of the South pressing in on her from all sides. The rich, heavy scents of roasted meats glazed in honey and exotic spices filled the air, completely overtaking the subtle, crisp smell of the sea she was used to. The massive platters were arranged with an artistic vanity that made the food look more like a display of wealth than a meal meant to be eaten.
Across the table, the court whispered and watched her every move, waiting to see if the northern princess would be overwhelmed by the luxury.
Y/N kept her face perfectly impassive. She picked up her silver utensil with a steady hand, refusing to look amazed by the abundance. She took a small piece of a golden, unfamiliar fruit, its sweet juice a sharp shock to a palate raised on the simple, comforting flavors of salted fish and boiled potatoes.
From a few seats down, Jeonghan was swirling a chalice of dark wine, his silver hair gleaming under the light of a hundred crystal chandeliers. He wasn't eating. Instead, he was watching her over the rim of his cup, his eyes sharp with that same quiet curiosity from the music room. He was waiting to see if the anchor would finally crack under the weight of Hespros's gold.
“Have you ever eaten lamb, princess?” he finally asked, watching Y/N’s fork hover over a plate of lamb being presented in front of her.
Y/N looked up from the plate at Jeonghan with a raised eyebrow, but no smile.
“We have sheep on the Coast, Prince Jeonghan,” she said, her voice easily cutting through the low hum of the surrounding dinner conversation. “Though we generally value them more for their wool than their meat. The winters are cold, and a heavy coat is worth far more than a single meal.”
Jeonghan set his chalice down with a soft click, leaning his elbow on the table as he tilted his head toward her. The casual, testing smirk returned to his lips, but his eyes remained tightly focused on her reactions.
“A very practical answer,” he murmured. “But you didn't answer my question. Have you actually tasted it, or are you simply analyzing the economic value of the livestock?”
Y/N let her fork descend, neatly spearing a small portion of the seasoned meat. The rich spices of the South filled the air between them, sharp and heavily fragrant. She took the bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed before giving him any indication of her verdict. Her expression remained entirely unchanged, a perfectly calm surface that gave away nothing to the courtiers watching them.
“It is rich,” she noted conversationally, placing her fork back down on the edge of the gilded plate. “But like most things in Hespros, I find it relies heavily on the spices to mask the fact that it is mostly just fat.”
A few nearby nobles choked slightly on their wine, their eyes widening at the blunt critique of the royal kitchen.
Jeonghan, however, let out a sudden, genuine laugh that drew the attention of his father at the head of the table. He leaned back in his chair, his silver eyes glittering with a dangerous sort of delight. He had spent his whole life watching people praise every single scrap of luxury this palace offered, and here she was, treating their finest delicacy like a poorly prepared stew.
“Careful, Princess,” Jeonghan warned softly, though his voice was warm with amusement. “Our head chef has a very fragile ego. If he hears you comparing his masterpiece to a ball of wool and lard, he might just refuse to bake your bread tomorrow.”
Y/N didn’t let out a laugh. It was more of a quick breath through her nose, a tiny fracture in her frozen composure, before a large silver platter of fish was presented in front of her. Without a second thought, she took a bigger portion of fish than everyone else at the table, completely ignoring the remaining delicacies. She only ate that for the rest of the night, systematically tuning out the rest of the lavish feast in favor of the one familiar taste of home.
To the courtiers of Hespros, it was a silent statement of rejection toward their extravagance. To Y/N, it was simply a taste of home in a place that felt entirely foreign.
After the dinner, there was to be a dance.
The grand ballroom was even more oppressive than the dining hall. The walls were lined with towering mirrors that multiplied the blinding glare of the gold decor, and the air was thick with the scent of heavy floral perfumes and sweet wine. Musicians took their places on a raised balcony, tuning string instruments that produced a bright, fast, fluttering sound entirely unlike the deep rhythms of the North.
As the guests began to stream into the room, forming clusters of glittering silks and jewels, Y/N stood near the perimeter. She kept her back near a stone pillar, her sea-teal dress falling around her like a shadow in the middle of a sunburst.
Jeonghan entered the ballroom a few paces behind his father, his posture reverting back to that lazy, indifferent slouch. He scanned the crowd, ignoring the hopeful glances of the noble women who stepped into his path. His silver eyes flicked across the room until they inevitably found her, standing alone against the stone, completely detached from the spectacle.
He broke away from the royal procession, navigating the crowd with a slow, deliberate grace until he was standing just a few feet away from her.
“The court is waiting for the opening waltz, Princess,” he said, his voice dropping below the noise of the tuning orchestra. He didn't offer his hand just yet, choosing instead to study her impassive face. “And as the guest of honor, you are expected to lead. Unless, of course, you plan on treating the dance floor with the same northern hostility you gave the lamb.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and held out her hand. “Unlike lamb, Prince, I am familiar with waltzing. It is not as convoluted as your lamb.”
Jeonghan stared at her open palm for a fraction of a second, completely caught off guard by the sudden, sharp rolling of her eyes. It was the most animated expression he had seen on her face all day, and it sent a sudden shock of adrenaline through his veins.
A slow, delighted grin spread across his face as he stepped into her space, his fingers wrapping around hers with a firm, deliberate warmth.
“Convoluted?” he repeated, his voice dropping into a low, amused purr as he led her out onto the polished marble of the empty dance floor. All eyes in the ballroom instantly turned to them, a collective hush falling over the glittering crowd. “I’ll have you know our court dances require absolute precision, Princess. But please, do show me how the North handles a turn without getting tangled in their own seriousness.”
He placed his right hand firmly against the small of her back, the heat of his palm easily penetrating the heavy sea-teal fabric of her dress. The orchestra struck up a sweeping, fast-paced Southern waltz, the violins fluttering high and bright through the vaulted ceiling.
Y/N didn't miss a beat. The moment the music started, she stepped into the rhythm with an effortless, fluid grace that perfectly countered his lead. She didn't look down at their feet once, keeping her chin tilted up, her dark eyes locked onto his silver ones with a cool, unblinking intensity.
Jeonghan guided her through the spinning patterns, expecting her to struggle with the quick, dizzying tempo of the South. Instead, she moved like water, shifting and pivoting with a quiet, grounded strength that made the fast pace look almost simple.
“You’re actually good at this,” he murmured, his smirk faltering slightly as he realized he couldn't throw her off balance, no matter how fast he spun them past the towering mirrors.
“I told you, Prince,” Y/N replied, her voice steady even as the golden walls of the ballroom blurred around them. “The waltz is just geometry and gravity. Two things that remain true, even in a kingdom built on vanity.”
“But vanity sure is beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured, his silver eyes flashing as he spun her past a massive gilded mirror.
Y/N didn't let the blurring reflection of gold and crystal distract her. She kept her gaze anchored firmly on his face, her expression unyielding.
“A mirage is beautiful too, Prince,” she replied, her voice smooth and even despite the quickening tempo of the waltz. “Right up until you try to drink from it and realize your throat is still full of sand.”
Jeonghan let out a quiet, appreciative hum, his hand tightening just a fraction against the small of her back to guide her through a sharp, sweeping turn. He was leaning in closer now, close enough that the scent of rain and salt clinging to her seemed to cut right through the heavy floral perfumes of his court.
“You really don't give an inch, do you?” he asked, a genuine, fascinated smile tugging at his lips. He had spent his entire life playing games with people who practically begged to lose to him, but Y/N was treating the dance floor like a battlefield where survival was the only option.
“I come from a place where giving an inch means losing a foot to the sea,” Y/N said, her boots clicking in perfect sync with his leather shoes against the marble. “I see no reason to change my policy just because the floors are polished.”
As the music reached its peak, Jeonghan executed a flawless, dramatic dip, testing her balance one last time. Y/N trusted her own weight, her core remaining perfectly stable as she looked up at him from the angle, her dark eyes reflecting the brilliant light of the chandeliers above. For a second, the entire ballroom seemed to fade into a hum of distant noise, leaving only the steady rhythm of their breathing.
When he pulled her back up to her feet, the final chord of the waltz echoed through the high rafters, and the crowd erupted into polite, rhythmic applause.
Jeonghan didn't let go of her hand right away. He stood there, his chest rising and falling slightly, staring down at her with a look that was no longer just curious. It was entirely captivating.
“Well, Princess,” he whispered, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of her knuckles before he finally stepped back and offered a low, respectful bow. “I suppose that’s one point to the North.”
Later that night, when all the guests had left the palace and Y/N had gone to bed, is when Jeonghan finally let the mask fall completely.
The suffocating noise of the court had dissipated, leaving the grand corridors of Hespros echoing with nothing but the quiet ticking of pendulum clocks and the distant, rhythmic sigh of the ocean below the cliffs. Instead of retreating to his own quarters to drink away the exhaustion of the day as he usually did, Jeonghan found his steps tracing a familiar path back to the moonlit music hall.
The massive arched doors groaned softly as he pushed them open. The room was bathed in cold, silver light now, and the aggressive gold of the daytime was reduced to muted shadows.
He walked over to the grand rosewood piano, his boots making no sound against the marble. The bench where Y/N had sat hours earlier was empty, but as he stood beside the instrument, he could almost still hear the deep, heavy resonance of her northern melody. Of salt and steel.
Jeonghan reached out, letting his fingers trace the edge of the polished wood where her hands had rested. She was a maddening puzzle. Everyone who came to this palace wanted something from him, whether it was flattery, power, or a piece of the crown. But she had looked at him and seen right through the glitter to the hollow space beneath. She didn't want to fix him, and she certainly wasn't afraid of him.
A quiet, breathless laugh escaped his lips as he recalled the sharp roll of her eyes before the waltz.
He sat down on the edge of the bench, pressing a single low key. The deep, somber note rang out into the dark, empty hall, sounding entirely too lonely. Jeonghan leaned his elbows on the ivory, burying his face in his hands as he stared into the shadows of the room. For the first time in years, he wasn't thinking about his father's suffocating expectations or how to sabotage his own future. He was only thinking about the quiet, unyielding storm sleeping just a few corridors away, and how badly he wanted to see what happened when the tides finally turned.
“She was quite the dancer this evening,” he heard a soft, yet familiar voice from the doorway. He knew without looking up that it was his mother.
“I wasn’t aware that the iron coast provided such intense dance courses,” he jested, still not looking up at her. He didn’t want her to see the exhaustion across his face.
“Is that the only thing you were unaware of?”
Jeonghan kept his head buried in his hands, staring at the black and white keys below him. He heard the gentle rustle of her silk skirts as she stepped into the music hall, her movements as quiet and graceful as they had always been.
“I am unaware of many things, Mother,” he replied, his voice muffled slightly by his palms. “Just ask Father. He has a whole list of my failures ready for breakfast tomorrow.”
The Queen walked closer, stopping a few feet from the piano bench. She didn't press him to look at her, nor did she chide him for his posture. Instead, she placed a gentle hand on the polished rosewood of the piano, right where Y/N’s hand had rested earlier.
“Your father sees a political arrangement,” she said softly, her eyes reflecting the silver moonlight streaming through the high windows. “But I saw the way you looked at her during the waltz. You weren't playing a part tonight, Jeonghan. For the first time in a very long time, you looked challenged.”
Jeonghan finally dropped his hands from his face, though he kept his gaze fixed on the keys. A wry, tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“She compared our finest royal lamb to wool and lard,” he murmured, a quiet huff of laughter escaping him. “And she told me my vanity was a mirage that would leave my throat full of sand. I don't think she likes me very much.”
“Good,” his mother replied, a warm, knowing tone in her voice. “You have spent your whole life surrounded by people who agree with your every word because they want to please the prince. You need someone who isn't afraid to tell you when the water is cold.”
She reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of silver hair away from his forehead. Jeonghan leaned into the touch for a brief second, finally letting the heavy weight of his armor drop completely.
“She is different,” he admitted quietly, looking up to meet his mother's soft gaze. “She doesn't want anything from this palace. She just wants her ocean.”
“Then you had better make sure you don't let her drown in our gold,” his mother said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning back toward the doorway. “Get some sleep, Jeonghan. The court will be even louder tomorrow, and I think your iron princess is going to need someone who actually knows how to navigate the storm.”
Y/N had been seated in the grand dining hall for nearly half an hour before Jeonghan finally sauntered into the room. She had chosen the seat once reserved for his sister, appearing entirely serene amidst the vast expanse of the gilded table with only a cup of tea, a crisp slice of toast, and a half-eaten banana before her.
“Good morning, princess,” he murmured, a familiar smirk playing on his lips as he claimed the chair directly beside her. “How did you find your first night in the palace?”
Y/N offered nothing more than an elegant shrug, yet she gracefully slid a silver platter of fresh fruits toward him from across the linen cloth.
“It was rather noisy here,” she said, her voice dropping into that quiet, steady frequency. “I suppose it’ll take a while for me to get used to hearing the sound of the trees and animals around here. I’m so used to hearing the waves.”
Jeonghan paused, the remaining piece of fruit hovering halfway to his lips. He lowered his hand slowly, his silver eyes searching her face for any sign of vulnerability, but her expression remained as perfectly still as a frozen lake.
“Noisy?” he repeated softly, the smirk completely vanishing from his face. He looked out the towering windows toward the expansive royal gardens, where the only sounds were the gentle rustling of emerald leaves and the faint, melodic chirping of southern birds. To anyone in Hespros, this was the absolute height of tranquility.
“The forests of the South are never truly silent,” he murmured, turning his gaze back to her. “There is always something moving, always something growing or breathing in the brush. I suppose to a stranger, that constant rustling can feel a bit crowded.”
Y/N looked down at her tea, watching a stray leaf swirl at the bottom of the porcelain cup.
“The ocean is loud, but it is a singular voice,” she explained, her fingers lightly tracing the delicate handle. “It is a constant, heavy rhythm that drowns out everything else. It fills your head until there is no room left for lonely thoughts. Here, the silence is fractured. Every snap of a twig and every flutter of a wing stands out. It makes the world feel far too wide.”
Jeonghan watched her, a strange, tight sensation settling in his chest. For all her sharp remarks and unyielding armor, this was the first time she had allowed him to see the edge of her homesickness. She didn't look weak; she simply looked like a creature pulled entirely out of her natural element, trying to find her footing on soil that refused to stop shifting beneath her feet.
He leaned back in his chair, his posture losing its usual theatrical laziness, replaced instead by a quiet, grounded presence.
“If the land feels too wide, you simply have to find a boundary,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, devoid of any mocking edge. “The palace gardens can be overwhelming, but there is a stone balcony at the highest point of the western wing. It overlooks the cliffs at the edge of our territory. If you stand there at dusk, the wind hits the stone so hard you can't hear a single bird. It isn't the North, Princess, but it might give you enough of a storm to help you breathe.”
He would have to get used to her not filling the silence. Most women at court considered a quiet moment an absolute failure, rushing to patch the emptiness with hollow compliments or high-pitched giggles. But Y/N simply sat there, perfectly comfortable in the stillness she had created, letting his suggestion settle between them like a promise.
Jeonghan watched her finish the remainder of her tea, his mind racing to find a way back into her thoughts. He was a man who survived by reading people, by knowing exactly which card to play to make them reveal themselves. Yet every time he thought he had figured out her rhythm, she changed the tempo entirely.
“You are a very expensive guest to entertain, Princess,” he said finally, trying to lure her back into their usual banter as he reached for another piece of fruit. “You eat almost nothing, you reject our finest music, and you prefer a barren stone balcony to our imperial gardens. My father is going to think I am failing my hosting duties.”
Y/N set her empty cup down with a deliberate, soft click. She turned her dark eyes toward him, a faint, almost imperceptible tilt at the corner of her lips hinting that she knew exactly what he was trying to do.
“Then I suggest you learn how to handle the quiet, Prince Jeonghan,” she replied smoothly, smoothing down the front of her morning gown as she prepared to rise from the table. “Because back in the North, we only speak when the words are worth more than the silence.”
Before Jeonghan could say anything else, she rose from the table and left the dining room.
He remained seated, his hand still resting on the polished wood, his silver eyes tracking the graceful exit of her sea-teal skirts until the heavy oak doors clicked shut behind her. The room felt suddenly vast and entirely too quiet without her presence.
A slow, breathless laugh escaped his lips, and he shook his head, looking down at the silver platter of fruit she had slid toward him. He had been dismissed by kings, reprimanded by his father, and scolded by his tutors, but he had never been left entirely wordless by a girl over a half-eaten banana.
“Worth more than the silence,” he murmured to himself, repeating her words as if testing the weight of them.
He took another bite of the fruit, the sweetness suddenly tasting a bit dull compared to the sharp back-and-forth they had just shared. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the empty seat across from him. She was entirely unbothered by his status, unimpressed by his charm, and completely immune to the luxury that everyone else in the kingdom coveted.
If his father had intended for this northern princess to be a calming anchor for the reckless prince, the King had made a severe miscalculation. Y/N was not going to hold him in place. She was going to force him to move, and for the first time in his life, Jeonghan found himself looking forward to the challenge.
Y/N’s parents had arrived a day late to Hespros. They had been dealing with some urgent civic affairs back on the Coast and simply could not travel down with Y/N, leaving her to face the first overwhelming night in the foreign kingdom entirely on her own.
The announcement of their arrival reached the main wing of the palace just before noon. The heavy thud of northern boots marching through the grand foyer instantly altered the atmosphere of the estate, cutting clean through the delicate, perfume-scented air of the southern court.
Y/N was standing near the library corridor when the doors opened. Her father, the Lord of the Iron Coast, stepped into the golden light of Hespros looking like a piece of weathered granite. Beside him, her mother moved with a sharp, fluid dignity, her heavy dark traveling cloak swirling around her ankles. They bore the distinct scent of salt water and bitter frost, bringing a sudden, bracing gust of the North into the stifling luxury of the palace.
Jeonghan was observing from the upper balustrade, leaning casually against the marble railing with a cup of spiced wine in his hand. He watched the way Y/N walked toward them, expecting a glimmer of relief to cross her face. Instead, he saw her posture go entirely rigid, her shoulders squaring like a soldier preparing for a blow.
She offered a formal, deeply respectful bow to her parents, but before she could even stand up straight, her father spoke. Her presence was treated as a mere checklist item.
“Your carriage left the docks late,” her father’s deep voice boomed lightly against the vaulted ceiling, entirely omitting any sort of greeting or inquiry about her well-being. “You should have commanded the drivers to move faster. We arrived at the border only to find the northern guard waiting on your delayed reports.”
“The weather was unpredictable near the pass, Father,” Y/N replied, her voice dropping into that familiar, quiet frequency. It lacked the sharp wit she had used on Jeonghan earlier. It sounded practiced, almost hollow. “I ensured the cargo arrived safely regardless.”
Her mother didn't offer a hug or a comforting touch. Instead, she stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning Y/N from head to toe with a critical, dismissive gaze. She reached out and aggressively adjusted the collar of Y/N’s dress, her fingers rough and impatient.
“You look pale, and your hair is a mess,” her mother remarked coldly, her voice cutting through the quiet foyer. “The southern court thrives on appearances, Y/N. If you cannot even maintain a dignified presentation for twenty-four hours on your own, you will disgrace the Coast before the ink on the treaty is even dry.”
“I understand, Mother,” Y/N said quietly, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. She didn't roll her eyes. She didn't fire back with a clever insult about geometry or gravity. She simply stood there and took the weight of their disapproval, absorbing it until she looked small in the middle of the massive room.
Up on the balcony, Jeonghan felt his grin completely vanish. The amusement he had been harboring all morning turned into something heavy and uncomfortable in his chest. A strange twist of pity hit him as he watched her.
He had assumed her cold, unyielding armor was a choice, a proud reflection of her heritage. But looking at her now, trapped between her parents like a bird caught in a net, he realized the truth. Her composure wasn't a shield she wore for fun. It was a survival mechanism she had been forced to perfect because the people who were supposed to protect her were the ones who stepped on her the hardest.
Jeonghan set his wine cup down on the marble railing with a quiet click, his silver eyes narrowing as he watched the northern lord turn his back on his own daughter to shout orders at a southern servant. For the first time since she had arrived, Jeonghan didn't want to challenge the princess. He wanted to pull her out of the storm.
Pushing himself off the balustrade, he glided down the grand marble staircase with an easy, deliberate grace, his presence instantly drawing the attention of the surrounding attendants. He didn't wait for the northern lord to finish barking orders at the trembling southern servant. Instead, he stepped right into the family's space, inserting himself between Y/N and her mother's critical gaze.
“Lord and Lady of the Iron Coast,” Jeonghan's smooth voice cut through the tension, carrying the perfect blend of royal authority and effortless charm. He offered a flawless, lazy bow that somehow still managed to feel entirely commanding. “Welcome to Hespros. You must forgive our southern roads for delaying your reports, but I can assure you, the Princess has been managing our court with absolute perfection in your absence.”
He turned his silver eyes to Y/N, his expression softening into a warm, bright smile that didn't match the calculating look in his eyes.
“In fact, Princess, the royal archivist has been practically begging for your presence in the western wing to verify those northern sea charts,” he lied smoothly, offering his arm to her with a dramatic, inviting flourish. “I promised I would fetch you the moment your parents arrived safely. My Lord, My Lady, if you will excuse us for just a brief moment, the King is already waiting in the solar to discuss your traveling accommodations.”
Y/N looked up, her dark eyes wide with a flash of genuine surprise as she stared at his offered arm.
Jeonghan didn't give her parents a chance to object or find another flaw to pick at. He stepped a fraction closer, his posture shielding her from her father's towering frame as he waited for her to take his arm. He gave her a subtle, reassuring nod, a silent invitation to let him carry the weight of the room for once.
Y/N’s parents didn’t say anything more, but they nodded and followed Jeonghan out of the grand room.
“Why would you do that?” Y/N asked quietly, keeping her voice low so her parents would not overhear their first conversation devoid of any jest.
“Because I know the feeling of being a disappointment to my parents, and I wish that there had been someone to help take some of the heat for me,” he replied with a casual shrug. “Consider it the only olive branch that you’ve allowed me to extend to you.”
Y/N sighed at his remark, but she didn’t fire a sharp retort back. The mere fact that her parents were in the vicinity was consuming enough of her composure that she could not think of anything witty to say to him.
“Don’t get used to it,” she finally whispered back, her breath catching as her father let out a low grunt ahead of them. She was so thoroughly accustomed to tracking her family's every movement that everything put her on edge.
Jeonghan noticed the sudden pause in her breathing. He glanced over, seeing how she was holding her breath in a desperate attempt not to set her father off.
“Let me handle it, at least for today,” he said softly, guiding the group toward the solar where his own family was waiting. Y/N nodded quickly, stepping back to let her parents enter the solar first. She released a quiet sigh of relief the moment their watchful eyes were no longer fixed upon her.
After dropping off her parents, Jeonghan led Y/N away from the crowded halls to the garden balcony at the furthest wing of the castle. It was the only side of the palace that looked out directly onto the open water, and it was the only balcony that held a piano.
Y/N gasped when she caught sight of the instrument sitting in the open air. Jeonghan smiled, watching as she practically ran toward it. This piano was entirely different from the ones inside the main halls. It was constructed mostly out of clear glass with delicate gold trimming, a beautiful, ethereal instrument that almost no one ever played.
“I thought you would want to play with a sight that is familiar to you,” he murmured.
Y/N looked up from the glass keys and out toward the sea, realizing she hadn't even noticed the sound of the crashing waves until now. The southern waters weren’t nearly as violent as the tides back at her home, but they were more than enough to put her mind at ease.
“This place is beautiful,” she admitted softly.
Jeonghan nodded and slowly approached the instrument, running a hand along the smooth, cool hood of the piano.
“This wing used to belong to my sister,” he explained, his voice quiet against the sound of the ocean. “But she never enjoyed the piano the way you do.”
Y/N hummed softly, sliding onto the bench. She pressed down on a few keys, letting the notes ring out into the sea air before a small chuckle escaped her. “There is a very good reason she didn’t play much. It is because the keys are not tuned properly.”
Jeonghan cocked his head to the side, letting out a soft scoff of disbelief. “Really?”
Y/N nodded her head and struck a particular key, letting the hollow sound echo between them. “This note is entirely flat. And you told me yourself that every single piano in this palace was tuned the day I arrived. Which means your royal musicians tuned this one incorrectly.”
“Well,” Jeonghan chuckled, a genuine smile breaking across his face. “We will get a new piano tuner employed as soon as possible then. Good eye, Princess.”
“Thank you, Jeonghan,” Y/N said, finally looking up to meet his gaze for the first time all day.
“For what?” he asked, caught off guard by the sudden softness in her eyes.
“For saving me.”
Jeonghan froze, his hand coming to a complete rest on the gold trim of the glass piano.
For a man who prided himself on always having a quick reply, a clever deflection, or a charming smile ready to disarm anyone, her words left him utterly speechless. The wind swept up from the ocean below, carrying the sharp scent of salt water between them and tossing a few stray strands of his silver hair across his face, but he didn't move to brush them away. He just stared at her.
“Don't do that,” he said softly, after a long silence. The playful smirk was entirely gone, replaced by an expression that was raw and unfamiliar.
Y/N tilted her head, her fingers resting lightly on the ivory keys. “Do what?”
“Look at me like I am someone dependable,” Jeonghan replied, a quiet, self-deprecating laugh slipping from his lips. He turned his gaze out toward the horizon where the blue sky met the shifting green of the sea. “If you ask anyone in this palace, they will tell you I only look out for myself. I am reckless, I am selfish, and I usually create storms rather than fix them.”
“I don't care what the rest of the palace says,” Y/N said smoothly, her voice remaining perfectly steady against the roar of the waves below. “I know what a storm looks like, Jeonghan. I have lived in one my entire life. And today, you were the anchor.”
Jeonghan turned his head back to look at her, his silver eyes searching her face. He saw the faint purple shadows under her eyes from her sleepless night, the slight tension still lingering in her jaw, and the absolute sincerity in her dark gaze. She wasn't flattering him to gain favor. She was simply stating a fact, treating his rare moment of kindness with the exact same honesty she used when she insulted his court.
Slowly, the tension left his shoulders. The easy, comfortable warmth returned to his eyes, and he leaned against the edge of the piano, looking down at her with a gentle, thoughtful smile.
“If I am going to be your anchor, Princess, then you are going to have to do something for me in return,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a quiet cadence that felt entirely private.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her defensive armor slipping back into place, though her expression remained soft. “And what is that?”
“Play me that northern melody,” Jeonghan said, gesturing to the glass keys. “The one you played in the music hall when you thought no one was listening. The one about salt and steel. If I have to listen to my father and your parents argue about borders all afternoon, I am going to need something real to keep me awake.”
A small, genuine smile finally broke across Y/N's lips, bright enough to rival the southern sun. She turned back to the instrument, her hands hovering above the keys for a brief second before she began to play.
This time, she didn't care that a few of the notes were flat. The deep, heavy rhythm of the Coast poured out of the glass piano, blending perfectly with the crashing waves below, and Jeonghan stood right beside her, keeping the rest of the world at bay.
The weeks leading up to the royal wedding were agonizingly tense. Y/N’s parents remained unyielding regarding northern traditions, dictating every detail of what could and could not take place during the ceremony. Yet, by the conclusion of the second week of planning, every single detail from sunrise to sunset was finally locked into order.
From the service and reception to the cuisine, attire, and floral arrangements, everything had been meticulously arranged and begrudgingly approved by both sides of the family.
The first day devoid of wedding preparation was filled with a profound, peaceful rest. Jeonghan, completely drained by the endless diplomacy, had spent those hours entirely alone to recover. The second day of leisure, however, proved to be far less tranquil for the princess.
Jeonghan had immediately claimed the seat beside her at breakfast, talking her ear off without pause, and proceeded to shadow her across the palace for the remainder of the day. He listened to her play the piano, watched her read, and accompanied her into the sprawling gardens. Wherever she went, Jeonghan inevitably followed.
The final straw arrived when she attempted to break away from him after supper. She had noticed his attention wander during the meal, caught up in a lengthy discussion with her father, and she seized the opportunity to slip away for a desperate moment of solitude.
She had retreated to the sanctuary of the grand library to listen to some classical music, only for her peace and quiet to be instantly shattered. Jeonghan sauntered through the opposite doors, a leather-bound book held loosely in his hand.
“Can I not have a single moment alone?” Y/N exclaimed, throwing her hands up in utter frustration. “I have been suffocated by people for two weeks straight, and I simply want some solitude.”
Jeonghan threw up his hands in a mocking gesture of self-defense, sliding onto the velvet couch right next to her. “I apologize, princess, but I am merely attempting to learn about my future bride before our lifelong union.”
Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically. “You still have two full weeks to learn about me. Does it all truly need to happen right now, back to back?”
Jeonghan chuckled, tossing his feet up onto the cushioned ottoman in front of them with deliberate laziness. “Do you mean to tell me you have no desire to learn anything about me?” he inquired, entirely bypassing her question.
“I already know that you are deeply annoying and that you delight in poking around in business that does not belong to you,” she fired back, turning her sharp gaze upon him. “I know that you are a privileged older brother who has had the world handed to him on a silver platter. And I know that you are a silver-haired storm just waiting to tear through anyone who gets too close.”
Jeonghan quirked an eyebrow, his intense silver gaze remaining fixed on her face.
“And from which court gossips did you gather that, princess?” he asked, his tone dropping into something entirely unreadable.
He knew her assessment was partially accurate, but it was rooted in the shallow caricatures drawn by people who didn’t truly know him. If any of those courtiers paid actual attention, or took the time to look beneath the performance, they would know how deeply he cared. They would see how attentive he truly was, how intensely he listened from the shadows, and how he gathered everyone's secrets not for malice, but to keep himself and the people he chose to protect safe from the crown.
Y/N did not answer him. She simply crossed her arms and tried her absolute best to ignore the prince, but he was utterly relentless.
He constantly commented on obscure passages of the book he was holding, poked around at whatever she was looking at, and prattled on about specific details of the wedding that had just been finalized. It was an endless barrage of sound, and after two weeks of being suffocated by expectations and royal protocols, it was simply too much.
The final straw came when Jeonghan ventured into territory he should have left untouched.
“So… do you think your parents will finally let up on you once the wedding is over?” He asked, offering a lighthearted grin.
He intended it as a joke, a playful nod to the shared understanding they had found on the balcony. But the casual words struck a raw, deeply buried nerve, shattering whatever remained of her iron composure.
“Can you just stop!” she exclaimed, her voice cutting through the silent library like a whip.
She slammed her book down on the table and stood up from her seat, the sudden, violent movement startling Jeonghan completely. He was entirely accustomed to her irritation, her sharp eye-rolls, and her icy remarks, but she had never lashed out with such raw, unbridled fury.
Jeonghan scrambled his feet off the ottoman, his playful expression instantly vanishing as he looked up at her. The silver light of the library caught the trembling in her hands, a stark contrast to the rigid, defensive posture she had adopted.
“Y/N—”
“No, I do not want to hear another clever remark from you, Jeonghan!” she maped, her dark eyes flashing with a mix of anger and profound exhaustion. “You think everything is a game because you can afford for it to be. You play the fool, you mock the court, and you push boundaries because you know that at the end of the day, you are still the crown prince. No one is going to discard you.”
She took a sharp, ragged breath, her chest heaving as she pointed a finger toward the doors.
“My parents do not 'let up,'” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of a lifetime of pressure. “If I falter, if I make a single misstep in this palace, it isn't just a minor embarrassment. It is a reflection on my entire homeland. They look at me and they see a representative, a piece of political leverage, not a daughter. And you sit here poked and prodding at my skin just to see how much it takes to make me bleed.”
Jeonghan stood up slowly, keeping his hands low and his movements entirely unthreatening. The realization of what he had done hit him like a physical blow. He hadn't been trying to hurt her; he had been trying to distract her, to bring back the fierce, sharp girl who had challenged him over toast and a banana. But in his restlessness, he had completely misjudged the depth of her exhaustion.
“I am sorry,” he said, his voice dropping into a quiet, grounded frequency that was entirely devoid of theater. “I didn't mean to push you over the edge.”
“Then leave,” Y/N said, turning her back to him as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself, trying to force her breathing to steady before she completely broke down. “Just leave me alone.”
Jeonghan didn’t say anything else and slowly made his way out of the library, briefly stopping at the door to watch Y/N wipe away a few lone tears that had fallen down her face.
He hated that he had caused any pain. He liked teasing people, but he didn’t like hurting people. He sighed and made a note to not bring up Y/N’s family after they were wed. It was clearly a sore spot.
The last two weeks leading up to the wedding were a relentless whirlwind. There was an endless parade of dignitaries to see, nobles to thank, and distant relatives to officially invite to the ceremony. It felt like a chaotic blur to Y/N, an exhausting theater where she was constantly on display. The only comfort that might have made the suffocating routine bearable would have been a fiancé who didn't actively infuriate her, but alas, Jeonghan seemed to know exactly how to make her blood boil.
Jeonghan felt the sudden, freezing distance between them as well. It was cold and stinging, lingering in the air like fresh sea salt rubbed into an open wound.
Ever since her outburst in the library, the easy banter they had been building was entirely gone. Y/N had retreated behind a wall of absolute frost, giving him nothing but rigid nods and formal, empty pleasantries whenever they were forced to stand side by side for the court. She performed her duties flawlessly, never giving her parents a single reason to criticize her, but she treated Jeonghan like a complete stranger.
He tried to catch her eye during the long dinners, searching for even a glimmer of the sharp princess who had challenged him over breakfast, but her dark eyes remained entirely detached. He had wanted to learn about her, had wanted to ease her burden, but instead he had driven her right back into the shell her family had built for her. For a man who prided himself on knowing everyone's secrets and navigating every social storm, Jeonghan found himself completely stranded on the outside, desperate for a way to break through the ice he had caused to form.
The day of the wedding was the only time in the last two weeks that Y/N had even looked his way, and it was only because she was forced to by the sheer gravity of the occasion.
The royal wedding was breathtakingly beautiful, extravagant, and elegant. It was everything Hespros prided itself on being. Because the ceremony was being held on southern soil, Jeonghan’s family had been incredibly strict about the decorations, leaving Y/N’s parents with very little room to negotiate the aesthetics. Instead, the northern lord and lady had focused their energy entirely on dictating the customs of the wedding.
To bridge the gap between their worlds, they had planned for a beach wedding, incorporating both the sun-warmed land of the South and the wild, untamed sea of the North. The altar was set right where the white sand met the crashing tide, creating a striking contrast between the two families.
As part of the ancient northern customs, there was to be a sand ritual, a sacred ceremony symbolizing the permanent blending of two distinct forces. Two ornate chalices stood on a wooden pedestal, one filled with the coarse, dark gray sand of the Iron Coast, and the other holding the fine, pale gold sand of the Hespros shores.
Jeonghan stood at the altar, the breeze pulling at his silver hair and the formal silk of his wedding robes. He kept his eyes fixed on the path where Y/N would appear. He was entirely indifferent to the murmuring crowd of nobles behind him and completely unbothered by the grand display. His only focus was the impending walk of his bride, wondering if the ocean at her back would finally give her the strength to look at him with something other than complete detachment.
When the sounds of the Hesprosian trumpets started playing, Jeonghan's heart started beating loudly in his chest. He watched as the officials first came down the aisle, then Y/N’s mother, and then Y/N and her father.
His breath got caught in his throat when he first laid his eyes on his bride. She was wearing a dress that reflected the light perfectly off of it to make it look wet. Her hair was also styled to look wet and her makeup looked like water droplets were dripping down her face.
She looked mesmerizing. He would drown in her beauty if he could.
As she walked down the aisle, their eyes locked for the first time in two weeks and it took everything in Jeonghan to not sigh a breath of relief. Relieved that she would look at him again. There was still hope for reconciliation.
As soon as she reached the end of the aisle, she turned to her father to offer a final, respectful bow before taking her place at the altar.
Her father stood tall, his expression as unyielding and cold as rock. He didn't offer a reassuring smile, nor did he whisper a word of parting comfort to his daughter. Instead, his sharp eyes flicked briefly from Y/N to Jeonghan, assessing the alliance rather than the marriage, before he stepped back into the crowd without a single touch. It was a stark reminder of the heavy, conditional expectations that had followed Y/N all the way to the southern shore.
Y/N exhaled a slow, quiet breath and finally turned to face her groom.
Jeonghan was waiting for her, his posture entirely upright and serious for once in his life. As she stepped forward, the hem of her heavy bridal gown brushing against the coarse sand, she forced herself to look directly into his silver eyes. There was no warmth in her gaze, only the rigid, defensive composure she had worn like armor for the last fortnight.
But Jeonghan didn't look at her with his usual teasing smirk. He didn't offer a playful wink to break the tension. Instead, as the northern priest began to speak, reciting the ancient vows of the sea, Jeonghan reached down and gently took her hands in his.
His palms were warm against her frozen fingers. He gave her hands a subtle, grounding squeeze, a silent message meant only for her. It was the exact same steady presence he had offered her in the solar, a quiet promise that despite the suffocating crowd and the watchful eyes of her parents, he was still willing to stand between her and the storm.
The northern priest stepped forward, his voice deep and resonant as it carried over the crashing of the waves. He spoke in the old dialect of the Coast, a language that sounded like grinding stones and rushing water, invoking the ancient spirits of the sea to witness the union.
Jeonghan kept his grip steady on Y/N's hands. He could feel the slight tremor in her fingers, the tension radiating through her entire body as the heavy gaze of both kingdoms pressed down upon her. He didn't break eye contact with her, using his silver eyes to anchor her attention completely to him, shutting out the rest of the crowded beach.
The priest gestured to the pedestal holding the two ornate chalices.
“Two shores, bound by a singular tide,” the priest intoned, his hands raised toward the horizon. “The land provides the foundation, but the sea provides the life. To unite them is to accept that the water will reshape the shore, and the shore will contain the water.”
Jeonghan moved first, his movements deliberate and devoid of his usual theatrical flair. He lifted the chalice filled with the fine, pale gold sand of Hespros. He looked down at Y/N, waiting until she reached out and picked up the heavier, dark gray sand of the Iron Coast.
Together, they tilted the vessels over a central glass urn.
The two colors poured out in steady streams, meeting in the center and swirling together. The fine gold grains trapped the coarse gray particles, creating a beautiful, chaotic pattern of waves and ripples inside the glass that could never be separated again.
As the final grains fell, Jeonghan set his chalice down and turned back to Y/N. The priest stepped back, signaling the moment for the final vow.
“You may speak your piece to bind the shore,” the priest murmured.
Jeonghan took a step closer, intentionally cutting off the view of the front row where Y/N's parents were sitting. He lowered his voice, dropping it into that private, quiet frequency that had once brought her comfort on the glass piano balcony.
“I know I am a storm, Y/N,” he murmured, his silver eyes completely open and honest. “And I know I have pushed you when you needed peace. But I swear to you, under this sky and before this sea, I will never let anyone else make you feel small again. You don't have to carry the weight of two kingdoms on your own anymore. Let me take half of it.”
Y/N’s breath caught, her dark eyes widening slightly as his words cut right through her defensive armor. For the first time in two weeks, the icy detachment in her gaze melted, revealing the raw, exhausted girl beneath.
She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around his as she found her voice.
“I do not need you to carry me, Prince Jeonghan,” she whispered back, a faint, genuine spark finally returning to her eyes. “But I will let you stand beside me.”
“That is all I ask, Princess,” Jeonghan smiled, the gentle, brilliant expression returning to his face.
The priest raised his staff, pronouncing them wed under the laws of the sea and the land. A thunderous roar of applause erupted from the southern nobles behind them, accompanied by the deep, rhythmic banging of northern shields. But as Jeonghan leaned in to seal the vow with a soft, lingering kiss against her lips, the only sound Y/N could truly hear was the steady, constant rhythm of the waves.
The reception was much more fun and non-traditional than the ceremony. There was lively music, a bar, a dance floor, and almost the whole kingdom in attendance. The kingdom spared no expense for the crown princes’ wedding.
Y/N and her whole family felt extremely out of place, being the only ones in the whole kingdom not thrilled at the idea of drinking until you don’t know where you are and dancing with people you’ve never met before.
So when Jeonghan came up to her after the feast and extended his hand out to her, she wasn’t quite sure what the meaning of it was. She just stared at his out-reached hand for a minute before Jeonghan chuckled.
“Would you like to dance princess?”
Y/N’s cheeks reddened, and she looked to her parents to see if they would disapprove, but to her surprise, they did not. Her mother just gave one quick nod as to say ‘do it to make him happy’. So Y/N nodded and took his hand.
Jeonghan smiled, finally breaking a small piece of the thick wall she had placed around herself and then rebuilt when they got into that argument. It was one small step in the lifelong marriage ahead of them.
As he led her to the dance floor the music started changing from the lively fiddle to the smooth sounds of the harps for a waltz. Y/N hummed as Jeonghan led her to the middle of the dance floor and waited for her to stand in front of him before starting.
“I have not danced the waltz in a while, I must admit,” Y/N said, taking his hands and trying to remember the steps, but Jeonghan placed his hands around her waist and squeezed her hand to bring her out of her mind.
“Let me lead it to help you remember then,” he said, looking into her eyes. Normally, Y/N would reject the notion of a man leading her, especially in something so easy as a waltz, but when she looked into Jeonghan’s eyes….
For the first time since she had met him, she could tell that there was sincerity and happiness behind his eyes. So she nodded in agreement and let him lead the waltz.
Jeonghan was light on his feet and very graceful, so the waltz was something he was naturally gifted in. He was notorious to all the women in all the balls he attended to be the most sought after male, not because he was the crown prince, but because he was such a great dancer.
Jeonghan led Y/N around the dance floor perfectly, maneuvering her throughout the other couples and spinning her when the routine called for it. It was captivating watching them dance together.
“You are good at the waltz,” Y/N said as the music slowly started coming to an end.
“I would sure hope so,” he chuckled, effortlessly guiding her through the final, sweeping turn. “I’ve been taking lessons since I was eight years old.”
Y/N nodded, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. All royals were expected to learn the waltz early, though she herself had only started learning at age twelve. It seemed like Hesprosian traditions were focused far more on the arts than strategy, prioritizing grace and presentation over the brutal, practical drills of the Coast.
“You are very light on your feet,” she added, genuinely impressed by how smoothly he navigated the crowded ballroom.
Jeonghan smiled, bowing his head slightly to acknowledge the compliment. “I do well in fencing. I’m able to dance around the blade.”
Y/N smiled as the music finally came to a stop. For the first time all evening, the suffocating weight of the crowded reception seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the easy, natural rhythm growing between them.
The only thing Y/N dreaded about her wedding was her wedding night.
She knew the absolute expectations weighing upon them. She and Jeonghan would have to consummate their marriage, an unyielding requirement especially because he was the heir to the throne, but it was hard enough to face Jeonghan everyday under the watchful eyes of the court, let alone in the quiet vulnerability of the nights.
Y/N’s ladies-in-waiting were incredibly diligent in preparing her for the evening. They drew a warm, scented bath, meticulously brushed out her hair until it fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and dressed her in a beautiful new nightgown specifically tailored for the occasion.
The gown was made of the finest Hesprosian silk, accented with delicate gold trim along the neckline and hem. It was exceptionally light, designed to feel cool against her skin during the humid southern summer, yet it felt entirely heavy with the burden of what was expected to come.
When the maids finally bowed and retreated from the royal bedchamber, the silence of the room settled over her like a heavy shroud. Y/N walked slowly toward the large arched window, looking out into the darkness where the distant waves crashed against the shore, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she waited for the sound of the door to open.
On the other side of the castle wing, Jeonghan had spent the whole time staring blankly out his window, completely ignoring the servants who were fussing over his own changes of clothes.
He was entirely drained, his usual playful facade stripped away by the sheer exhaustion of the day. The weight of the crown had never felt heavier than it did tonight, knowing that the heavy doors of the marital chamber would lock him in with a girl who had only just started to look at him without hatred.
Once the servants were dismissed, Jeonghan didn't immediately head toward the bridge connecting their wings. Instead, he poured himself a glass of water, his silver eyes fixed on the distant, dark horizon where the sea met the sky. He thought of her frozen fingers at the altar. He thought of the way she held her breath whenever her father walked into a room.
He knew exactly what his father expected of him tonight. He knew the court would be looking for the traditional signs of a consummated union by morning, a final, unyielding stamp on the treaty between land and sea. But as he looked down at the gold wedding band now resting on his finger, a deep sense of aversion settled in his chest.
He didn't want to be another person who demanded something from her. He didn't want to be another obligation she had to endure.
Setting his glass down with a firm click, Jeonghan adjusted the loose collar of his dark silk robe and finally walked out into the corridor. His steps were no longer lazy or performative; they were steady and filled with a quiet, deliberate resolve. If Y/N expected a prince who was going to take what the crown promised him, she was about to find out that Jeonghan was perfectly content to break the rules.
Once he got to their shared chamber doors, he took a deep breath before knocking softly on the wood and sticking his head into the room.
“Is the coast clear, Princess?” he asked, his voice deliberately light as he scanned the massive, candlelit room.
Y/N turned sharply from the window, her hand flying instinctively to the delicate gold trim at her collar. Her dark eyes were wide, glittering with a mixture of apprehension and defensive instinct as she watched him slide fully into the room and click the heavy oak door shut behind him.
Jeonghan didn't move any closer. He remained right by the entrance, casually leaning his shoulder against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark silk robe. He looked entirely relaxed, but his silver eyes were incredibly sharp, immediately taking in the rigid posture she had assumed and the slight tremor in her frame.
“You look like you're awaiting a trial by combat,” he murmured, a faint, gentle smile touching his lips. “I assure you, I left my sword in my own quarters.”
Y/N swallowed hard, trying to summon that familiar, icy composure that usually protected her. “I am simply aware of the hour, Jeonghan. And the expectations that come with it.”
“Ah, yes. The grand expectations of two kingdoms,” Jeonghan sighed, finally moving away from the door. But instead of walking toward the massive, silk-draped bed in the center of the room, he walked straight past it, heading toward the velvet chaise lounge tucked away in the far corner by the balcony doors.
Y/N watched him in utter bewilderment, her defensive stance melting into pure confusion. “What are you doing?”
“I am taking the couch,” Jeonghan replied simply, folding his arms behind his head and looking up at the vaulted ceiling. “The wedding was exhausting, my feet hurt from all that waltzing, and quite frankly, I have no desire to be an obligation on your checklist tonight.”
He turned his head to look at her, the playful glimmer entirely gone from his eyes, replaced by that grounded, honest warmth she had only seen a few times before.
“I told you at the altar that I wouldn't let anyone make you feel small again, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet room. “And that includes me. The court can think whatever they want when the sun comes up. But tonight, this room belongs to us, not the treaty. Go to sleep. You're safe here.”
Y/N was shocked to hear his words. She thought he would ‘have his fill of the night’ and then leave immediately after, but this was completely different. She watched as Jeonghan turned his head back toward the ceiling and took a deep breath.
“I know what you are thinking,” Jeonghan said quietly, his voice lacking any of the sharp, confident edge he used with the courtiers. “You are waiting for the catch. You are waiting for me to stand up, or demand my due, or turn this into some sort of leverage for tomorrow.”
He let out a slow, self-deprecating breath, the sound vanishing into the heavy silk curtains of the room.
“My entire life has been measured by what I can take, or what can be taken from me,” he continued, staring steadily at the painted ceiling. “When you grow up as the heir in a place like Hespros, every smile is an investment, and every kind gesture has a receipt attached to it. I learned how to play the fool because if people think you are reckless and shallow, they do not look closely enough to see what you actually care about.”
He paused, finally turning his head back toward her. His silver eyes looked remarkably dark in the dim candlelight, stripped of all performance.
“But I don't want to play that game in this room. And I don't want to play it with you. When I watched your mother treat you like a failing soldier in the foyer... it made me sick, Y/N. Because I realized that your silence isn't a choice. It is just the only place you have left to hide.” He offered a small, tentative smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “I just want to give you a few hours where you don't have to hide.”
Y/N stood perfectly still by the window, her fingers tightening around the gold trim of her gown until her knuckles turned white.
On the outside, her expression remained carefully masked, her shoulders rigid and her chin tilted up in that familiar, defensive stance. She looked entirely standoffish, as if his confession had hit a wall of northern ice. To anyone else, she would have looked completely unmoved, perhaps even annoyed by his sentimentality.
But beneath the armor, her heart was hammering violently against her ribs.
His words were sliding under her skin in a way she wasn't prepared for. It was terrifying. She had spent years learning how to withstand cruelty, how to steel herself against disapproval and coldness, but she had absolutely no defense against raw gentleness. Looking at him lying there, so exposed and entirely at her mercy, a strange, overwhelming warmth bloomed in her chest. She was falling, rapidly and completely, into the very thing she had sworn to protect herself against.
“You speak as though you understand me, Prince Jeonghan,” she said, her voice sounding forced and tight as she struggled to keep the emotion out of it. She took a step back, wrapping her arms around her waist. “We have been wed for less than a day. Do not mistake a moment of shared exhaustion for a lifetime of understanding.”
Jeonghan didn't look hurt by her sharp retort. If anything, the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a soft, knowing expression. He had spent his whole life watching people hide; he knew exactly what a defensive shield looked like.
“Fair enough, Princess,” he murmured smoothly, closing his eyes and letting his head sink back into the pillow. “We have a lifetime ahead of us to figure it out. Sleep well.”
Y/N watched him slowly drift off to sleep, still shocked that he had not changed his mind at the last minute.
For nearly half an hour, she remained frozen by the window, her gaze switching between the silver light of the moon outside and the quiet rhythm of Jeonghan sleeping across the room. He did not move. He did not stir or try to sneak toward her. He simply slept, perfectly content with the boundary he had set for her comfort.
Finally, the exhaustion of the day caught up to her, and she made her way toward the center of the room. The bed was massive, easily the biggest bed she had ever seen. It felt absurdly vast, a detail that did not make much sense to her, especially if two people loved each other and actually wanted to sleep wrapped in each other's arms. But tonight, the vastness was a relief.
She slowly climbed into the right side of the mattress, choosing the side looking directly out the window, which also happened to be the side furthest away from Jeonghan. Before she lay down, she paused, looking across the expanse of silk to watch the steady, peaceful rise and fall of his chest one last time.
Allowing herself a quiet, unseen smile in the dark, Y/N finally pulled the sheets to her shoulders, rested her head against the pillows, and let the distant sound of the sea carry her off to sleep.
When Y/N woke up, Jeonghan was still sound asleep on the couch. He had turned onto his side during the night, leaving his back facing her. She slowly sat up in the massive bed, her movements quiet as she reached for the silver bell on the nightstand to summon her ladies-in-waiting.
The clear, sharp chime of the bell was enough to shatter the morning silence and wake Jeonghan up. He stirred on the couch and flipped over onto his back, rubbing his eyes with a low groan as the bright southern sun shone directly onto his face.
“Good morning,” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep. “I did not think our chesterfields were quite that uncomfortable.”
He raised his arms above his head and stretched out his torso before moving to fully sit up on the cushions.
“I called for my maids,” she said, her words cutting through his morning haze.
Jeonghan’s eyes widened in sudden realization. If the maids walked in and saw the crown prince sleeping on the couch on their wedding night, the rumor would spread to the king and queen before breakfast was over.
In a flash of fluid movement, he scrambled off the couch, crossed the room, and quickly dived under the covers to lay beside her on the bed. She gasped at the sudden rush of movement, her heart leaping into her throat as the mattress dipped beneath his weight.
Before she could move away, he pulled the silk sheets up to his chest, tangling his legs loosely with hers underneath the blankets. He leaned back against the plush pillows, running a hand through his messy silver hair to make it look intentionally tousled. By the time the heavy oak doors clicked open and her maids stepped into the room, Jeonghan had already settled into place, looking every bit the picture of a relaxed, devoted husband.
“Come in,” he called out, waving his hand for them to file into the room. “We would like breakfast, please.”
The maids entered in a quiet, orderly line, keeping their eyes respectfully lowered as they pushed in a golden cart laden with fresh fruit, warm pastries, and a pot of steaming tea. However, Y/N did not miss the brief, subtle glances they cast toward the bed, checking for any sign of how the night had passed.
Beside her, Jeonghan played his part flawlessly. He shifted slightly closer to her, his shoulder brushing against hers under the covers as he leaned back with a lazy, content smile. He reached out and casually rested his hand over hers on the silk sheets, his thumb brushing against her knuckles in a gesture that felt entirely natural, yet sent a sudden jolt of warmth straight up her arm.
Y/N froze slightly at the contact, her instinct to pull away warring with the knowledge that they were being watched. She forced her expression to remain serene, though her heart was hammering against her ribs just as fiercely as it had the night before.
“Leave the tray by the terrace, thank you,” Jeonghan instructed smoothly, his voice still holding that raspy, attractive edge of someone who had just woken up.
The head maid bowed deeply. “Of course, Your Highness. Shall we return in an hour to help the Princess dress for the morning court?”
“An hour will be perfect,” Jeonghan replied, offering them a pleasant nod.
As soon as the maids finished setting up the tray and retreated from the room, locking the heavy doors behind them, the heavy silence returned.
Jeonghan immediately let go of her hand and pulled his legs back to his side of the bed, though he did not move to get out of the covers just yet. He turned his head on the pillow to look at her, a brilliant, amused grin breaking across his face as he took in her wide eyes and flushed cheeks.
“See?” he murmured, his silver eyes glittering with mischief. “A perfect escape. Though I must say, Princess, you look like you just survived a palace raid rather than a morning visit from your servants.”
Y/N scoffed, but as she looked at his disheveled appearance, the lingering anxiety from earlier returned. “Is there any sort of procedure to check... if we?” she asked, trailing off, not wanting to finish the sentence.
Jeonghan shook his head, understanding her concern immediately. “We did away with that ceremony a few years ago, thankfully,” he muttered, the last sentence dropping quietly under his breath. “My sister and I convinced our parents to stop the clergy members from watching the chambers as well. It just felt violating.”
Y/N nodded her head in agreement, a wave of genuine relief washing over her. She stood up from the bed, the silk of her nightgown flowing around her ankles as she made her way over to the golden food cart.
Scanning the lavish spread, she picked up a chocolate éclair and held it up to the morning sun, inspecting it closely. On the Iron Coast, meals were practical, hearty, and strictly fueled by necessity. She had never tried many chocolate desserts, so the very concept of having chocolate for breakfast was entirely strange to her.
Jeonghan watched her inspect the pastry with such intense, solemn focus that he could not help but let out a low chuckle.
“If you’re not going to eat it, I will,” he teased.
Y/N turned her head to look at him. He was propped up on one elbow now, the sheets pooling around his waist as he smiled up at her from the mattress. She nodded, carefully placing the éclair onto a small porcelain plate, and brought it over to set it right in front of him on the bed.
“I do not understand why chocolate is appealing during the morning,” she remarked, looking back at the cart with a slight frown. “I notice there is a distinct lack of vegetables for breakfast.”
Jeonghan quirked his head at her words, completely caught off guard. He looked from her to the tray, which was piled high with glazed pastries, thick creams, fresh berries, and cured meats. Having lived in the luxury of Hespros his entire life, he had never once noticed that their morning meals consisted almost entirely of sweets, breads, and meats.
““Vegetables?” he repeated, a genuine, amused smile tugging at his lips as he looked back up at his northern bride. “Princess, I assure you, if my chef served me a plate of steamed greens at sunrise, I would assume he was trying to poison me.”
Y/N didn’t laugh back, instead just shrugging her shoulders. “I ate vegetables for breakfast every day back at home.”
Jeonghan paused, the playful retort dying on his tongue as he looked at her serious expression. He nodded slowly, quietly taking note of the small detail. He would have to send word to the castle kitchens later, ensuring the chef prepared a selection of fresh greens for tomorrow morning.
He took a bite of the éclair, chewing thoughtfully as he watched her wander back over to the cart to inspect the remaining dishes. The silence that settled over the room this time was different. It lacked the sharp, defensive edge from the previous weeks, replaced by a quiet, observant curiosity as they both adjusted to the reality of their new life together.
The next few days were remarkably similar, with the notable addition of vegetables for breakfast. They would wake up, eat breakfast together, but then separate for most of the day, only to come back together for dinner and bed. It was on the fifth day of their marriage when Jeonghan finally got bored. His father had given him some time off of royal duties to ‘enjoy’ his new marriage, but what his father didn’t know was that he wasn’t actually enjoying his marriage in the way the king intended.
When the maids walked in on that fifth morning, Y/N automatically looked up at Jeonghan, waiting for him to scramble out of the sheets and head back to his side of the castle wing as he usually did.
But he didn’t move.
Instead, he remained propped up against the pillows, lazily watching the servants set down the breakfast tray. A look of genuine confusion spread across Y/N's face, her eyebrows knitting together as she stared at him.
“Are you not leaving?” she asked quietly, waiting until the doors clicked shut and the maids left them alone.
Jeonghan let out a long, dramatic sigh, throwing his head back against the headboard. “I have been officially ordered to relax, Princess. Which means I have absolutely nowhere to be, nothing to sign, and no councils to endure. If I go back to my chambers, I will simply stare at the four walls until dinner.”
He turned his silver eyes toward her, a spark of his familiar, restless mischief finally returning to his gaze.
“And frankly,” he added, leaning in just a fraction closer, “I am growing tired of pretending we only exist to each other at twilight.”
Y/N didn't move away, but her posture went entirely rigid. She looked from his relaxed position on the bed to the breakfast cart, where a small plate of seasoned, steamed greens sat explicitly next to the pastries. He had actually remembered. It was a terrifying realization, because a cruel husband was easy to guard against, but a thoughtful one was dangerous to her heart.
“If you stay here, people will talk,” she said, her voice dropping into that cool, diplomatic tone she used as a shield. “Your father’s spies are undoubtedly watching these corridors. If you do not leave, they will assume...”
“Let them,” Jeonghan interrupted smoothly, propping his chin in his hand. “Let them think I am utterly captivated by my new wife. It perfectly aligns with my reputation as a prince who lacks discipline.”
Y/N let out a sharp, cynical breath and finally stood up to walk toward the food cart. “Is everything a strategy to you? Even sitting in a room?”
“Not everything,” he said quietly. The playful glimmer faded from his eyes, replaced by that heavy, grounded honesty that always managed to throw her off balance. “Sometimes I am just tired, Y/N. And sometimes, I am genuinely curious about the person I bound my life to.”
She picked up a fork, deliberately focusing on the vegetables to avoid his silver gaze. “There is nothing to be curious about. I am a soldier’s daughter from the Coast. We are not complex people, Jeonghan. We do not have the luxury of the arts and philosophy like Hespros.”
“No, but you have rules for everything,” Jeonghan murmured, sliding out from under the covers. He didn't approach her directly; instead, he walked over to the tea service, pouring a cup for himself and, without asking, pouring a second one for her, exactly how she liked it. “You hold your breath when you are angry. You stare at the moon when you think I am asleep. And you eat greens at dawn like it is a military mandate.”
He turned, holding out the porcelain cup to her.
Y/N stared at the cup, then up at his face. Her heart did a strange, violent flip in her chest. She wanted to snap at him, to tell him to stop watching her so closely, to rebuild the icy wall that had protected her for years. But looking at the loose hang of his silk robe and the genuine warmth in his eyes, she felt the terrifying sensation of her armor cracking wide open. She was falling for him, and the worst part was, he didn't even have to try.
She took the cup, her fingers brushing against his just long enough to send a spark of heat up her arm. “You mentioned your sister,” she said, desperate to change the subject to literally anything else. “The morning after the wedding. You said the two of you changed the castle laws regarding the... the chamber checks.”
Jeonghan’s expression softened, a fond but slightly melancholy smile touching his lips as he leaned against the heavy oak table.
“What is she like?” Y/N asked.
Jeonghan’s smile turned fond yet bittersweet as he thought of her. “She is a storm wrapped in silk, to be completely honest. If you think I am stubborn when it comes to defying my father, you have seen nothing until you have seen her in an argument.”
He took a slow sip of his tea, his silver eyes reflecting the bright morning light.
“She is the only person in this palace who ever managed to see through my nonsense,” he continued softly. “When our parents started talking about the traditional chamber checks for her own wedding, she threatened to light the ceremonial tapestries on fire. I simply provided the matches.”
Y/N found her lips twitching with the ghost of a smile before she caught herself and smoothed her expression back into a cool mask. “She sounds formidable. Where is she now?”
“Still here in Hespros, technically, though you would hardly know it,” Jeonghan said, his posture relaxing as he leaned back against the table. “She and Lord Wonwoo keep an estate just outside the capital, but she travels constantly. She cannot stand the stifling nature of the court, so she is always finding some diplomatic excuse or trade expedition to get out into the world. Wonwoo is the king’s quietest, most calculating advisor, so he is often tethered to the council chambers, but he always manages to slip away to join her whenever he can.”
He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Everyone at court expected their match to be a disaster because they are complete opposites. Wonwoo was just a baker's boy who caught the court's attention, started as a lowly page, and dragged himself up through sheer intellect until he became the most trusted mind in the kingdom. He prefers the quiet of his library and the strict logic of law, while she prefers to break things just to see how they work. But if you see them together when she is back in the city, it is terrifying how well they understand each other. Wonwoo is the only man alive who can anchor her without clipping her wings, and she is the only one who can make him laugh out loud in a crowded ballroom. Having her away on these long journeys is hard,” Jeonghan admitted, his voice dropping into a rare, vulnerable register. “But watching them together was the first time I ever saw a royal marriage that felt like a sanctuary rather than a prison.”
He looked up from his cup, his sharp gaze locking onto Y/N's eyes. The intensity of his look made her breath hitch.
“I used to think they just got lucky,” Jeonghan murmured, taking a slow step closer to her. “But lately, I have been wondering if a sanctuary is just something you have to be brave enough to build.”
Y/N swallowed hard, the warmth of the tea suddenly feeling entirely inadequate compared to the heat rising in her face. She looked down at her plate, her fingers tightening around her fork as she fought against the overwhelming urge to lean into his warmth.
“A sanctuary requires trust, Prince Jeonghan,” she said, her voice a little softer, a little less icy than before. “And trust is a scarce commodity on the Iron Coast.”
“Then it is a good thing we are in Hespros,” he replied smoothly, a gentle, entirely genuine smile breaking across his face. “We have plenty of time to import it.”
The day Yunjin’s letter arrived was the first day in Hespros where she felt genuine joy. None of her sisters had been able to make it to the wedding, so it had been almost two months since she had last seen any of her family.
Jeonghan noticed the instant shift in her demeanor across the breakfast table the moment she opened the seal. She tried to maintain her usual composure, holding the parchment up to hide her face, but the brilliant grin that slowly crept across her lips was inevitable.
“Is there good news?” he asked, setting his teacup down.
Y/N quickly looked up from the letter and nodded, her eyes shining in a way he hadn't seen since her arrival in the capital. “My eldest sister is visiting from home,” she said, a genuine smile breaking through her guarded exterior. “She will be here tomorrow.”
Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot up, surprised by the sudden, last-minute travel arrangements, but a warm smile quickly replaced his shock. “We would love to have her stay with us in this wing. I will have the servants prepare the adjoining chambers immediately.”
Y/N’s smile softened, and her hand instinctively drifted to her collarbone, digging out a small silver locket from beneath the neckline of her gown. “Yunjin and I have always been close,” she said softly, clicking the latch open to reveal a faded, painted miniature of herself and all her sisters when they were children. “I am not surprised that the others have not come to visit me yet, but I am incredibly relieved that she is.”
Jeonghan hummed quietly, deeply appreciating the small piece of vulnerability she was offering him. It finally felt as though he was chipping away at that heavy northern shell she wore so well.
“What makes the two of you so close?” he asked, leaning forward slightly on his elbows.
Y/N didn’t respond immediately. It was obvious she was trying to articulate her thoughts properly, searching for words that wouldn't sound too harsh to a prince who had grown up in a completely different court culture.
“She is the one I disagree with the least,” she admitted, a faint trace of humor in her voice. “My other sisters and I are always on opposite sides of every issue, but Yunjin and I can always meet in the middle. We can disagree, we can hold incredibly strong opinions about the world, and we never get offended by each other. I think... we felt the safest with each other to share who we actually were.”
Jeonghan nodded, his silver eyes fixed on her face as he absorbed the rare glimpse into her past.
“She was actually the one who convinced me that this marriage was a good idea,” she added, letting out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “Or rather, she reasoned me into it when I was ready to throw a tantrum.”
“So I have her to thank for your presence?” he joked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
They shared a genuine, small chuckle across the table, the lingering morning tension completely melting away.
“I truly cannot wait to meet her,” Jeonghan said.
Y/N looked at him, her dark eyes scanning his disheveled silver hair and the easy, charming tilt of his mouth. “I think the two of you will get along quite well. You both have a terrible habit of getting on my nerves, yet somehow you always manage to weasel your way out of trouble every single time.”
Jeonghan laughed out loud at the remarkably accurate reading of his character. He would never verbally admit to her face that she had him entirely figured out, but as he watched her carefully fold the letter away, he realized he didn't mind the exposure at all.
The rest of the day Y/N spent planning her sister's visit, her mind entirely occupied by the logistics of the upcoming arrival. Since she still knew so little of the capital, she traveled into the city with Jeonghan as her guide, using the outing as a chance to map out the perfect itinerary. He took her to the grand museums, the sprawling royal parks, and finally, most importantly for Y/N, to a secluded private beach tucked away along the coastline.
The beach had been a place that Jeonghan had visited often when he was a teenager. It was one of the only spots his parents didn’t know about, making it the perfect respite during the intense, exhausting arguments between him and his parents over his future.
“I’ve never shown anyone this beach before, not even my sister,” Jeonghan sighed, his voice carrying over the sound of the surf as they rounded the rocky corner on their horses.
Y/N pulled gently on her reins, bringing her horse to a stop beside his as the hidden cove opened up before them. The sand here was pale and undisturbed, framed by towering chalk cliffs that blocked out any view of the bustling city above. The turquoise water of the southern sea lapped gently against the shore, looking vastly different from the dark, churning waves of her home on the Coast, yet the salty air felt instantly grounding.
She turned her head to look at him, caught off guard by his confession. The easy, performative smile he usually wore for the city folk was entirely gone, replaced by a quiet, nostalgic look as he stared out at the water.
“It’s beautiful,” she sighed, her gaze tracing the sunlit horizon. “Just like everything in this kingdom.”
Jeonghan nodded in agreement, but his eyes weren't on the turquoise water or the pale sand. It wasn’t the waves that made the sight beautiful to him; it was the princess standing right in front of him, the ocean breeze catching her hair and her guarded expression finally melting into something soft and peaceful.
“Yunjin is going to love this place,” she added, a note of quiet anticipation in her voice as she looked over at the secluded shoreline.
“Then we will definitely bring her here,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, nudging his horse a step closer to hers. “Though we might have to swear her to secrecy. If my father finds out I’ve been hiding a private sanctuary from him all these years, he’ll try to build a naval fort right on top of it.”
Y/N let out a genuine laugh, the sound clear and bright against the crashing of the waves. “A naval fort? I think even your father would find that a bit excessive for a private beach.”
“You underestimate his dedication to security,” Jeonghan teased, his eyes glittering with that familiar, warm mischief. “But seriously, if she loves the sea as much as you seem to, she will find some peace here after her long journey.”
He looked back out at the water, his chest feeling lighter than it had in months. For the first time since their wedding, the heavy weight of the crown and the expectations of the court felt miles away, entirely blocked out by the high cliffs surrounding them.
“Come on,” he said, flashing her a brilliant grin as he tightened his grip on his reins. “Let's ride down to the shoreline before the tide starts coming in.”
They dismounted near the base of the cliffs, leaving the horses to graze on the sparse beach grass. Y/N walked down to where the wet sand met the surf, the cool water rushing over the tips of her boots. The sheer freedom of the hidden cove, combined with the relief of her sister's arrival tomorrow, made her feel lighter than she had in months.
Jeonghan stepped up beside her, the usual space he kept between them completely dissolving. The ocean breeze blew his silver hair across his eyes, but his gaze remained locked onto her face, intense and entirely unreadable.
“You look different today,” he murmured, his voice dropping below the sound of the crashing waves. “More... here.”
Y/N turned her head to look at him, her defenses slowed by the salt air. “I am always here, Jeonghan.”
“No,” he said softly, taking a half-step closer. “Usually, a part of you is still fighting a war back on the Coast. But right now...” He reached out, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered on her jawline, his thumb tracing the soft skin there. “Right now, you are just you.”
The proximity was intoxicating. Her heart hammered against her ribs, not out of fear, but out of a desperate, terrifying longing. Jeonghan leaned in, giving her ample time to pull away, but she didn't.
When his lips met hers, it was gentle, tasting of salt and the warmth of the southern sun. For a split second, Y/N let herself melt. Her eyes closed, her hand instinctively rising to rest against his chest, feeling the steady, rapid thud of his heart beneath his coat. It was a beautiful, devastating glimpse of what a real marriage could feel like.
But then, the weight of reality crashed over her like a freezing wave.
A soldier’s daughter. A political pawn. A sanctuary built on sand. The warnings of her upbringing on the Iron Coast echoed violently in her mind: Never let your guard down. Vulnerability is a liability. If she gave him her heart, he would have the power to destroy her.
Panic seized her. Before the kiss could deepen, Y/N went entirely rigid.
Her lips went completely flat under his, and her posture hardened into stone. She placed both palms firmly against his chest and pushed him back, creating a sharp, freezing distance between them.
Jeonghan stumbled back a step, caught entirely off guard. The warmth left his face instantly, replaced by a look of raw confusion that quickly bled into quiet hurt. He looked at his hands, then up at her cool, unreadable expression.
“Y/N?” he breathed, his voice cracking slightly.
Y/N swallowed down the lump in her throat, forcing her chin up and smoothing her features into the icy, diplomatic mask she wore for the court. She dusted off her riding gloves, refusing to meet his silver eyes.
“We should get back,” she said, her voice entirely devoid of the warmth they had shared just moments ago. “The tide is coming in, and I still have to review the guest quarters for my sister.”
Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heel and walked back toward her horse, her steps rigid and military-precise.
Jeonghan stood frozen on the sand, watching her retreat. The crushing realization hit him right in the center of his chest, heavy and hollow. He had let his guard down entirely, showing her his secret sanctuary and offering his heart on a silver platter—only to be met with a wall of solid ice. As he followed her back to the horses in a suffocating silence, a bitter certainty settled deep in his gut: she didn't love him, and she probably never would. To her, he was still just a political obligation.
The ride back to the palace was suffocating. The easy camaraderie they had spent the last five days building vanished as if it had never existed, replaced by a tense, heavy silence that stretched between them like a physical barrier. Every time their horses bumped shoulders on the narrow mountain path, Y/N would subtly pull her reins to guide her mount further away, a silent rejection that cut deeper with every mile.
Jeonghan kept his eyes fixed strictly on the path ahead. The bitter sting of disappointment burned in his throat. He had always been good at reading people. It was how he survived the treacherous court of Hespros, but Y/N was a puzzle he evidently had no right solving. He had miscalculated. He had thought the smiles, the shared laughter over the breakfast cart, and the vulnerability about her sister meant she was finally seeing him.
Instead, she had reminded him exactly where they stood: an alliance forged in ink, not in the heart.
When they finally reached the castle stables, Y/N didn't wait for him to dismount or offer a hand. She slid off her saddle the moment her horse came to a halt, handing the reins to a waiting groom with a tight, polite nod.
“Thank you for the tour of the city, Your Highness,” she said, her voice formal and clipped, addressing him by his title for the first time in days. She kept her eyes trained on his collarbone, deliberately avoiding his gaze. “It was highly informative. I shall see you at dinner.”
Jeonghan stayed atop his horse for a moment longer, looking down at her. The urge to demand an explanation, to ask her why she had frozen as if his touch poisoned her, flared hot in his chest. But the proud, guarded expression on her face told him everything he needed to know. Forcing her to talk would only make her retreat further behind her northern walls.
“Of course, Princess,” he replied, his voice dropping into that smooth, effortless court register he used for politicians and strangers. The warmth was entirely gone. “Enjoy your preparations.”
Y/N turned and walked away, her posture perfectly straight, her head held high as she disappeared into the stone corridors of the royal wing.
As soon as she was out of sight, her facade cracked. Y/N ducked into a quiet, shadowed alcove, pressing her back against the cool stone wall as she let out a shaky, ragged breath. Her heart was still hammering violently against her ribs, her lips still tingling from the phantom warmth of his kiss.
What did I just do, she thought desperately, tightly gripping the fabric of her riding skirt.
She had seen the look of raw hurt in his silver eyes before his mask slammed shut. It had physically pained her to push him away, but the sheer terror of how easily she had melted in his arms had triggered every survival instinct she possessed. On the Iron Coast, loving someone meant giving them a weapon to use against you. She was in a foreign kingdom, surrounded by enemies and political schemes, and the most dangerous variable of all was her own husband’s devastating kindness.
She couldn't afford to love him. She couldn't afford to be weak.
Straightening her spine, Y/N smoothed down her tunic and forced the emotion back into the darkest corner of her mind. She needed to focus. Yunjin was arriving tomorrow, and right now, her sister was the only anchor she had left in this overwhelming world.
Dinner that evening was an exercise in pure agony.
They sat at opposite ends of the long mahogany table, the space between them feeling wider than the sea separating Hespros from the Coast. Jeonghan played the part of the perfect, polite host, passing dishes and offering polite commentary on the weather, but the effortless teasing, the lingering glances, and the soft smiles were entirely gone. He didn't ask her about her family, and he didn't mention the beach.
When the meal finally ended, Jeonghan stood up, giving her a brief, courteous bow.
“If you will excuse me, Princess, I have some council documents to review before tomorrow. I shall sleep in my private chambers tonight so as not to disturb your rest before your sister’s arrival.”
Y/N’s throat felt incredibly dry. She wanted to tell him to stay. She wanted to tell him that she didn't mean to push him away, that she was just terrified. But the cold, polite distance in his eyes stopped the words before they could form.
“Of course,” she murmured softly. “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
He turned and left the dining hall, the heavy oak doors closing behind him with a definitive thud. Y/N stared at the empty doorway, a profound sense of loneliness washing over her. She had gotten exactly what she thought she wanted. Her walls were back up, and her heart was safely guarded.
So why did it feel like she had just lost the only sanctuary she had ever known?
The absolute silence of the dining hall rushed in to fill the void. Y/N's fingers remained clamped onto the edge of the mahogany table, her knuckles white as she listened to the fading sound of his footsteps. Slowly, her hands began to tremble.
She forced herself to stand up and walk back to her chambers, her movements mechanical and stiff. Every servant she passed received the same blank, regal nod she always gave, but inside, she felt like she was suffocating. The moment she reached her bedroom, she closed the heavy doors and threw the iron bolt forward, locking herself away from the rest of the castle.
She turned around and pressed her back against the wood, sliding down until her knees hit the thick carpet.
The first sob broke from her throat before she could even try to stop it. It was a sharp, gasping sound that she immediately choked back by pressing the palm of her hand hard against her mouth. She couldn't let anyone hear her. On the Iron Coast, a crying soldier was a broken soldier, and she had spent her entire life learning how to swallow her pain.
But as she sat alone on the floor of the massive, unfamiliar room, the dam completely broke.
Tears hot and heavy flooded over her eyelashes, tracking down her cheeks and dripping onto the dark fabric of her gown. She pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her face in her skirts as her shoulders shook with violent, silent weeping.
The memory of his silver eyes, clouded with raw confusion and quiet hurt, burned behind her eyelids. He had opened up his heart to her. He had shown her the one place in the world where he felt safe, and in return, she had treated his kindness like an attack. She had built her walls so high and so fast that she had crushed him in the process.
The worst part was that she couldn't blame him for leaving tonight. He had tried so hard over the last few days, remembering the vegetables she liked, giving her his own sister’s story, and offering her a genuine partnership. And she had thrown it all away because she was too terrified to face the truth.
She was falling in love with him, and her own fear had ruined it before it could even begin.
Y/N curled tighter into herself, her tears soaking into her dress as she listened to the empty quiet of the palace wing. Tomorrow, Yunjin would arrive, and she would have to put on a brave, happy face for her sister. But tonight, in the dark, she let herself weep for the sanctuary she had desperately wanted to build, and the husband she had just pushed into the cold.
Yujin had arrived early in the evening, leaving the morning and afternoon silent. Y/N had tucked herself away in the library, where Jeonghan didn’t often like to hang around. She knew that the only reason he spent time there in the last month was to be with her.
The realization only made the heavy ache in her chest worsen. Every grand bookshelf and velvet armchair in the royal archive seemed to remind her of his absence. She spent hours staring blankly at the open pages of a text on Hesprosian history, not absorbing a single word, listening intensely to every distant footstep in the corridor outside and hoping, foolishly, that he might walk through the door anyway.
But he didn't. The morning stretched into the afternoon in agonizing, uninterrupted silence, proving to her just how much effort he had been putting into chasing her away from her loneliness over the last month. Now that he had stopped chasing, the library felt completely freezing.
By the time the sun began its low descent, casting long, amber shadows across the polished floorboards, a servant finally knocked on the heavy library door to announce that the carriage from the Iron Coast had passed through the outer palace gates.
Y/N practically scrambled to her feet, abandoning her book on the table. She smoothed down her gown, swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, and hurried down to the main courtyard. She forced every ounce of her lingering sorrow deep down inside herself, building up a bright, welcoming mask just in time for the carriage door to swing open.
“Y/N!”
Yunjin stepped down from the carriage, looking exactly as she always did. Radiant, sharp-eyed, and carrying the crisp, familiar scent of the northern wind.
“Yunjin,” Y/N breathed, her voice cracking slightly with genuine relief as she stepped forward.
Before she could even offer a proper, formal greeting, Yunjin bypassed all royal etiquette and threw her arms around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her into a fierce, crushing hug. The familiarity of it almost brought fresh tears to Y/N's eyes, but she held them back, burying her face in her sister's shoulder and squeezing back just as tightly. For a brief second, she felt like she was back home, safe from the terrifying complexities of the southern court.
“Look at you,” Yunjin said, pulling back to hold Y/N at arm's length, her eyes scanning her face with that fierce, protective scrutiny only an older sister possessed. “You look like a proper southern princess. They haven't been boring you to death with poetry and philosophy, have they?”
“Not entirely,” Y/N managed a genuine chuckle, though her heart did a nervous flutter when she noticed a figure approaching from the shadow of the palace doors.
Jeonghan walked down the stone steps with easy, measured grace. He had dressed impeccably for the arrival, his silver hair neatly styled and his posture perfectly regal. The moment his eyes met Y/N's, that cool, polite distance from the night before flashed in his gaze, but it vanished instantly as he turned a warm, brilliant smile toward Yunjin.
“Lady Yunjin,” Jeonghan said smoothly, offering a flawless, elegant bow. “Welcome to Hespros. We are absolutely honored to have you in our home. Your sister has spoken so highly of you, I feel as though I already know you.”
Yunjin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a sharp, assessing glint in her expression as she looked the prince up and down. She was checking him for weaknesses, just like a true soldier of the Coast, but Jeonghan’s charming smile didn't waver for a second.
“Prince Jeonghan,” Yunjin replied, bowing just low enough to be polite but keeping her chin high. “The pleasure is mine. And I must thank you for taking such good care of my sister. She can be quite a handful when she’s homesick.”
“Oh, she is an absolute delight,” Jeonghan teased smoothly, though his silver eyes drifted to Y/N for a fraction of a second, the hidden weight behind his words completely unreadable to anyone else. “Though she does keep me on my toes.”
Hoping to break the underlying tension, Y/N quickly offered to show her sister to her quarters. Y/N led Yunjin throughout the castle, gesturing to the grand archways and towering tapestries she had spent the last two months trying to get used to. As they walked, Y/N kept her descriptions brief and practical, focusing mostly on the layout and where the different wings connected.
Jeonghan followed closely behind them, seamlessly stepping in to fill in the rich history that Y/N had left out.
“What my brilliant wife neglected to mention,” Jeonghan chimed in with a light chuckle as they passed a massive, vaulted gallery, “is that this particular corridor was designed by the high architect during the golden age of the third dynasty. The glass in these windows was dragged across the sea specifically to catch the sunset just so.”
Yunjin looked at the vibrant light pooling across the stone floor, then back at Jeonghan, clearly amused. “A bit dramatic for a hallway, isn't it?”
“Welcome to Hespros,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, flashing a brilliant, easy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes when he glanced at Y/N. “We thrive on drama here.”
Y/N kept her gaze locked straight ahead, her heart aching at how easily he fell back into his perfect host persona, effortlessly covering for her lack of courtly knowledge while keeping a fortress of politeness between them.
Yunjin didn’t say anything during the tour, but it was obvious she could feel the heavy, suffocating tension between her sister and her new husband. Her sharp eyes kept darting between Y/N’s rigid posture and Jeonghan’s overly flawless smiles. She remained observant, holding her tongue until they finally reached the privacy of the guest suites.
Jeonghan checked the heavy gold timepiece at his vest, offering a polite, regretful bow. “If you will excuse me, Lady Yunjin, I must leave you to settle in. I have a weekly meeting with the council that I cannot avoid. I shall see you both at dinner.”
The moment the heavy oak doors clicked shut behind him, leaving the two sisters entirely alone, Yunjin dropped her luggage onto the nearby settee. She turned on her heel, crossing her arms as she leveled Y/N with a piercing look.
“Alright,” Yunjin said, her voice dropping into that strict, no-nonsense tone she only used when something was seriously wrong. “What happened?”
Y/N didn’t look up immediately. She busied herself with rearranging a small crystal vase on the side table, her fingers tight against the glass. “Nothing happened. He is just busy with the council, and I am tired from planning your arrival.”
“Do not give me that courtly garbage, Y/N,” Yunjin said, stepping closer and grabbing her sister by the forearm, forcing her to stop fidgeting. “I know you. I know exactly what you look like when you are trying to retreat behind a fortress. You looked at him like he was a threat, and he looked at you like he had just been court-martialed. Yesterday you sent me a letter practically glowing through the parchment, and today you won't even look him in the eye. What did you do?”
The blunt accusation hit Y/N right in her chest, breaking through her exhaustion. Her jaw tightened. “Why do you assume I did something?”
“Because I know how you react when someone gets too close,” Yunjin countered softly, her grip loosening into a gentle, grounding squeeze. “You push. Hard. Before they can push you first.”
Y/N let out a sharp, ragged breath, the defense completely draining from her body. She crossed her arms, rubbing her elbows as she stared down at the intricate patterns of the southern carpet.
“He took me to his private beach yesterday,” Y/N whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of the confession. “A place he has never shown anyone. Not even his sister. He told me it was his sanctuary, and he was completely undefended. No prince persona, no court masks. Just him.”
Yunjin stayed quiet, listening intently as she always did when Y/N finally decided to let her walls down.
“He kissed me,” Y/N continued, her throat tight. “And for a second, Yunjin, I forgot about the Iron Coast. I forgot about the alliance, the political schemes, and the contract. I felt entirely safe. And it terrified me.”
She looked up at her older sister, her eyes bright with raw, unshed tears. “The moment I realized how much power he had over me, my training took over. I went completely cold. I pushed him away, right there on the sand, and I treated him like an enemy soldier trying to breach the perimeter. I saw his face shift. I broke his trust, Yunjin. Now he thinks I despise him, and he didn't even sleep in our wing last night.”
Yunjin let out a long, slow sigh, shaking her head, though her expression was full of deep empathy. She walked over to the settee and sat down, patting the velvet cushion beside her. Y/N moved automatically, sinking down next to her sister and letting her head rest against Yunjin's dependable shoulder.
“You foolish girl,” Yunjin murmured, wrapping an arm around Y/N's shoulders. “You brought a shield to a sanctuary.”
“I don't know how to do anything else,” Y/N choked out, a single tear escaping and tracking down her cheek. “Father taught us how to survive a war, not how to accept a gift. Jeonghan has been so incredibly kind to me, and I repaid him by making him feel like an unwanted obligation.”
“Then you are going to have to fix it,” Yunjin said firmly, shifting so she could look Y/N dead in the eyes. “The council meeting will take at least two hours. When he comes back, you are going to lay down your weapons and tell him the truth. You don't have to be a fearless soldier here, Y/N. You just have to be brave enough to admit you're scared.”
Yunjin’s words hung in the air, leaving a heavy, challenging silence in the room. Y/N stared at her sister, her chest tight with a mixture of dread and a strange, flickering spark of determination.
“Two hours,” Y/N repeated softly, looking toward the ornate pendulum clock on the mantle.
“Exactly,” Yunjin said, standing up and smoothing down her travelling tunic. “Which means you have exactly one hour and forty-five minutes to pace this room, lose your mind, and finally figure out what you are going to say to that boy. I am going to wash the dust of the road off my face.”
For the next hour, Y/N did exactly that. She paced the length of the guest suite, the heavy fabric of her skirts swishing against the floorboards as she rehearsed speeches in her head. Every option sounded either too stiff and military or entirely too vulnerable. Her northern pride chafed at the idea of begging for forgiveness, but every time she pictured Jeonghan’s eyes on the beach, her stubbornness melted away.
By the time the clock struck the second hour, Y/N couldn't sit still any longer.
She left Yunjin resting in the chambers and slipped out into the corridor. The palace was quieter now, the servants moving like shadows as the evening guards took their posts. Y/N walked with a purpose she didn't entirely feel, her boots clicking softly against the stone as she navigated the winding hallways leading toward the high council wing.
This part of the castle was always more oppressive. The ceilings were higher, the tapestries depicted bloody historical victories, and the air felt thick with political scheming.
As she neared the grand double doors of the council chambers, she ducked into the shadow of a vaulted archway across the hall. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, a familiar adrenaline surging through her veins. It was the same feeling she got before a border skirmish on the Coast, only this time, she wasn't fighting to defend a line. She was fighting to tear one down.
Ten minutes later, the heavy oak doors groaned open.
A handful of elderly councilors filed out first, deep in whispered conversations about tax rates and grain supplies. Next came Lord Wonwoo, clutching a stack of leather-bound ledgers to his chest, his expression as unreadable and natural, offering her a quick bow of the head as he passed by.
And then came Jeonghan.
He was the last to leave the room. The moment he stepped into the torchlight of the corridor, Y/N’s breath hitched. The effortless, charming smile he usually wore for the public was completely gone. His shoulders were slightly tense, and he looked thoroughly exhausted, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he walked away from the council doors, heading down the isolated gallery toward his private study.
Y/N didn't let herself hesitate. If she waited even a second, her walls would snap back into place.
She stepped out of the shadows and hurried down the corridor after him. “Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan stopped in his tracks. He turned around slowly, his silver eyes widening slightly in surprise when he saw her standing there in the dim light of the gallery. For a fraction of a second, a spark of the old warmth flared in his gaze, but it was quickly masked by that polite, freezing courtesy he had used at dinner.
“Princess,” he said, his voice smooth and entirely distant as he offered a shallow bow. “I assumed you would be with your sister. Is something wrong with her quarters?”
“No,” she assured him, her voice softer than she intended. “Yunjin’s quarters are perfect.”
Jeonghan merely nodded, his posture remaining perfectly straight, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. He didn't prompt her further. He just stood there, a polite stranger wearing her husband’s face, waiting for her to state her business and let him go.
Y/N took a few moments to gather herself again. It was ridiculous, really; she had spent the last two hours pacing a room, repeating sentences until they felt hollow, yet now that he was standing right in front of her, her mind was a total blank. Her heart battered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She took a deep, steadying breath, forcing her chin up, and finally let the truth spill out before her fear could stop it.
“I didn't come here to talk about my sister,” she said, her eyes locked onto his, refusing to let him look away. “I came here because of yesterday. On the beach.”
Jeonghan’s expression didn't change, but she caught the subtle flinch in his jaw, the tiny tightening of his shoulders at the mention of the cove. “Y/N, you don't need to explain. I understand where we stand—”
“You don't,” she interrupted, stepping closer, completely ignoring the invisible boundary he was trying to maintain. “You don't understand at all, Jeonghan. When you kissed me... I didn't freeze because I wanted to push you away. I froze because I was terrified.”
That caught him off guard. The flawless court mask slipped just a fraction, a flash of genuine confusion breaking through his silver eyes. “Terrified? Of me?”
“Of how easily I forgot everything else,” she confessed, her voice dropping to a fierce, raw whisper. “On the Iron Coast, we are taught that vulnerability is a death sentence. We are taught to never give anyone a weapon that can be used against us. And yesterday, when you were so incredibly kind, and you showed me your sanctuary... I realized how much power you have over me. I realized how easily you could break my heart, Jeonghan.”
She took one more step, closing the distance between them until she could feel the faint warmth radiating from him.
“My training took over before I could think. I treated you like an enemy because it was safer than admitting the truth,” she said, her eyes burning with unshed tears, though her voice remained steady. “I brought a shield to a sanctuary. I ruined a beautiful moment because I was too much of a coward to accept a gift. I am so sorry, Jeonghan. I don't want to be an alliance forged in ink. I don't want to keep fighting a war with you.”
Jeonghan stood completely frozen, his breath hitching in his chest. The silence of the corridor stretched between them, but this time, it wasn't heavy with rejection. It was thick with a breathless, stunned disbelief as he stared down at her, processing the cracks in her armor.
At the confession, Jeonghan’s heart skipped a beat. It felt like he had stopped breathing. It was like a sign that finally his feelings were at least being accepted, if not returned.
The cold, defensive wall he had spent the last twenty-four hours building around his own chest crumbled into dust. All the bitter disappointment, the agonizing self-doubt that had kept him awake in his lonely private chambers, vanished in a single breath. She didn’t despise him. She wasn't just using him as a political stepping stone.
She was just as terrified of him as he was of losing her.
Slowly, as if afraid that any sudden movement might cause her to retreat behind her northern fortress again, Jeonghan reached out. His fingers were slightly ungrounded as he brought his hand up, his knuckles gently brushing against the curve of her cheek. When she didn't pull away, he let his palm rest against her jawline, his thumb catching a stray tear before it could fall.
The intense, piercing look returned to his silver eyes, but this time, it was entirely stripped of courtly calculation. It was just raw, profound relief.
“You think I want to use you as a weapon?” he asked, his voice a low, rough murmur that vibrated in the quiet gallery. He took a half-step closer, completely erasing the final boundary between them. “Y/N, the last thing I want is to fight a war with you.”
He let out a short, breathless laugh, a genuine smile finally breaking across his face, though his eyes remained fiercely earnest.
“I was losing my mind all day in that council room because I thought I had ruined everything,” he admitted softly, his fingers curling slightly into the hair at the back of her neck. “I thought I had forced my feelings on you. If you need a shield, Y/N, you can keep it. But you never have to use it against me. I would rather let you break my heart a thousand times over than ever do anything to break yours.”
Y/N let out a breath she felt like she had been holding since they left the beach, her forehead sinking forward until it rested against his chest. The heavy wool of his doublet was warm against her skin, and the steady, rapid thumping of his heart beneath her cheek matched her own frantic pulse.
“I don't want to break your heart,” she murmured into his chest, her hands finally moving to grip the fabric of his sleeves. “I just... I don't know how to do this, Jeonghan. Every piece of advice my father ever gave me was about how to survive a betrayal. I don't know how to navigate peace.”
Jeonghan’s arms wrapped securely around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He rested his chin on top of her head, exhaling a long, ragged sigh that ruffled her hair.
“Then we learn together,” he whispered softly, his hands rubbing comforting circles into the small of her back. “Step by step. No more ink, no more contracts. If you’re scared, you tell me. If I’m moving too fast, you tell me. Just don't freeze me out again, Princess. It is entirely too cold behind those northern walls of yours.”
Y/N pulled back just enough to look up at him, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through her exhaustion. “They are meant to keep out southerners.”
“Well, you married a particularly stubborn one,” Jeonghan teased, the brilliant, effortless spark returning to his silver eyes. The heavy weight that had hung over both of them for the last two days was completely gone, replaced by the easy warmth they had spent the week building.
He leaned down, his eyes dropping to her lips for a fraction of a second. Y/N felt her heart flutter, the warmth of his proximity tempting her, but she gently placed a hand against his chest, holding him back just a fraction. There was still so much to rebuild between them, and she wanted to earn this piece of sanctuary properly.
Jeonghan caught her meaning instantly. He didn't look disappointed; instead, a soft, understanding smile curved his lips as he let his hand drop from her neck, though he kept his fingers firmly tangled with hers.
“We should probably get back,” Jeonghan murmured, offering a reassuring squeeze to her hand. “Your sister is waiting, and if I keep you out here much longer, she might actually carry out that court-martial she looked ready to give me in the courtyard.”
Y/N chuckled, the sound light and free. “She probably would. She’s very protective.”
“Good,” Jeonghan smiled, leaning in just to press a gentle, fleeting kiss to her brow instead. “Let’s go show her that we survived the battle.”
The royal stables normally shut their doors at nine, “they work long days and need their rest” is what the royal groom has always said when he enforced the new rule last year. So when midnight had struck and Jeonghan had come knocking on Y/N’s doors to go for a midnight ride, she couldn’t resist.
“My sister's horse cloud hasn’t been ridden in ages, you can ride her,” Jeonghan whispered as they approached the stable gate.
The plan was simple: Y/N would grab Cloud and Regent, Jeonghan’s horse, while Jeonghan opened the big stable doors. The cool night air was crisp against Y/N’s face, a welcome relief from the stuffy atmosphere of the palace corridors. Slipping past the outer guard posts had been surprisingly easy with Jeonghan leading the way, his knowledge of the watch schedules keeping them completely invisible.
They crouched low near the shadow of the stable wall, the massive wooden building completely dark and quiet.
“Stay close,” Jeonghan whispered, his breath clouding slightly in the midnight chill. He checked the courtyard one last time before gesturing for her to follow.
They glided over to the side entrance. The heavy iron lock on the main doors was always secured at nine sharp, but Jeonghan pulled a thick, brass key from his tunic pocket, looking thoroughly amused with himself. He slid it into the mechanism with practiced ease, turning it slowly until a quiet click echoed through the dark.
He pushed the door open just enough for Y/N to slip through.
The interior of the stables smelled strongly of sweet hay, polished leather, and the warm, grounding scent of resting horses. A few low rumbles and soft snorts greeted them from the dark stalls as the animals shifted in their sleep, but otherwise, the building remained entirely still.
Y/N moved with silent precision, navigating the central aisle toward the familiar nameplates. Regent was easy to find, the massive black stallion instantly raising his head and pressing his nose against Y/N’s hand in recognition. Just two stalls down was Cloud, a beautiful, pale grey mare belonging to Jeonghan's sister, looking alert but calm.
Working quickly in the shadows, Y/N grabbed the bridles and halters hanging by the stalls. She slipped the leather over Regent’s head first, her hands steady as she secured the buckles, before moving on to Cloud. The mare let out a soft huff of air but stood perfectly still as Y/N prepped her for the midnight escape.
At the front of the barn, the heavy groaning of the main wooden doors sliding open cut through the silence.
Jeonghan was pushing the massive barricades apart just enough to let the horses pass, the moonlight cutting a sharp, silver path down the center of the stable floor. He turned back to look at her, a thrilling, reckless grin flashing across his face in the dim light.
Y/N took the reins of both horses in her hands, guiding them gently out of their stalls. Their hooves clicked against the stone floor, sounding incredibly loud in the dead of night, making her adrenaline spike. They were officially breaking the rules of the castle, turning their backs on royal decorum for the sake of a wild run into the dark.
“Go!” Jeonghan whispered, his voice a frantic rush of air in the dark.
He didn't waste a single second. He stepped up beside Cloud, offering a firm hand to help Y/N hoist herself up. She caught his shoulder for balance, swinging her leg over the mare's back with practiced northern agility. As soon as she was securely in the saddle, Jeonghan turned on his heel, caught Regent’s reins, and vaulted effortlessly onto his own horse.
The movement was completely fluid, entirely stripped of the stiff, formal posture he usually maintained for the court.
Just as Regent’s hooves hit the gravel outside, a flickering lantern light appeared at the far corner of the courtyard.
“Hey! Who’s out there?” the gruff, sleepy voice of the night watchman echoed across the stone pavers, the heavy thud of his boots suddenly picking up speed.
“Hold on tight,” Jeonghan called out, a breathless laugh cutting through his warning.
He dug his heels into Regent’s flanks, and the black stallion bolted forward like a shot from a bow. Y/N didn't hesitate, giving Cloud a sharp click of her tongue. The grey mare, thrilled to finally be out of her stall after so long, lunged forward right behind him.
They tore out of the stable yard, the wind immediately whipping Y/N’s hair across her face. Behind them, the watchman’s shouting grew distant, replaced entirely by the thunderous rhythm of hooves striking the earth as they raced toward the open fields beyond the palace walls.
Jeonghan whipped his head around to make sure Y/N was still close with him. The wind caught his silver hair, blowing it back from his face as his eyes locked onto hers, ensuring she was handling the grey mare's frantic pace.
But when he turned his head a fraction further, looking past her shoulder, his expression instantly sharpened.
Emerging from the shadow of the outer barracks were three palace guards on horseback. They had bypassed the main gates, cutting across the western lawn to intercept them, their lanterns swinging wildly in the dark as they spurred their mounts into a gallop.
“Stop! By order of the crown, halt your horses!” the lead guard bellowed, his voice carrying over the rushing wind.
Jeonghan let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, his eyes flashing with a reckless excitement Y/N had never seen in him before. He leaned lower over Regent’s neck, looking back at her over his shoulder.
“They brought the royal guard just for a midnight stroll,” he called out, his voice full of amusement despite the danger. “Don't let them catch you, Princess! If they take us back now, Wonwoo will make me read tax ledgers until dawn!”
Y/N’s northern blood surged at the challenge. She gripped Cloud's reins tighter, leaning forward to match the mare’s stride. The guards were closing the distance, their heavier, armored horses thundering against the sod, but Cloud was light and nimble.
“They'll have to ride faster than that!” Y/N shouted back, a fierce, genuine smile breaking across her face as she urged the mare into an even faster gallop, tearing down the moonlit path toward the tree line.
She caught up to Jeonghan, the two horses running neck and neck as the wind roared in their ears. She whipped her arm out, pointing sharply toward a dense line of ancient trees that concealed the winding path down to the cove.
Jeonghan looked where she was pointing and gave her a quick, knowing nod. With a sharp tug on the reins, he expertly steered Regent off the main path, plunging straight into the thick bushes and shadows. The sudden change in direction sent a shower of leaves and twigs scattering into the night air, completely breaking his silhouette against the moonlight.
Y/N didn't follow him. Instead, she leaned low over Cloud’s neck and steered the grey mare in the exact opposite direction, tearing across the open meadow toward the rocky eastern cliffs.
The strategy worked perfectly. Behind her, she heard the sudden, chaotic shouting of the guards as they reached the fork where the two tracks split.
“They’re separating!” the lead guard yelled, his horse whinnying loudly as he forced it to a sudden, skidding halt on the gravel. “You two, take the woods! I’m following the princess!”
Looking over her shoulder, Y/N saw two of the lanterns veer wildly into the trees after Jeonghan, while the lead guard spurred his mount directly toward her. A wild, breathless laugh escaped her lips. Splitting the guard gave Jeonghan a clear run to the beach, and she had absolutely no intention of letting her own pursuer catch her before she got there.
By the time she made it to the edge of the cove, the thundering hooves of the guard's horse had faded entirely into the distance. She had managed to completely lose him along the rocky ridges of the eastern cliffs, but she wasn't about to take any chances. If the guards eventually figured out her strategy and tracked her down to the water, she wanted to make sure they wouldn't stay around for long. If they couldn't see her horse, they would assume she had doubled back toward the main roads.
Moving quickly, she guided Cloud deeper into the thick forest lining the edge of the sand. She dismounted with fluid ease, leading the grey mare into a dense thicket of pine trees where the shadows were heaviest.
“Good girl,” Y/N whispered, patting the mare’s damp neck. She wrapped the leather reins securely around a sturdy, low-hanging branch, tying them off with a quick knot that would hold but allow for a fast getaway if needed.
Satisfied that Cloud was completely hidden from the path, Y/N turned and pushed her way back through the heavy brush.
The moment she stepped out onto the open sand of the cove, the sound of crashing waves filled her ears. The moonlight reflected off the water, painting the entire beach in shades of silver and blue.
A sudden movement near the shoreline caught her eye, and a breathless smile broke across her face.
Jeonghan had just emerged from the opposite side of the tree line. Regent was nowhere to be seen, meaning he had likely used the exact same tactic to hide his massive stallion in the woods. He looked slightly disheveled, his silver hair windswept and his cloak unbuttoned, but as he spotted her standing there on the moonlit sand, a brilliant, victorious grin lit up his face.
“I beat you here and I’ve only been here once,” Y/N chuckled, running a hand through her messy hair as well.
Jeonghan scoffed, but didn’t bother fixing his hair. He pulled out a bag that he had brought with them, containing a thick blanket and a bottle of wine. “I’ll have you know, l let you arrive first so as to not get caught.”
Y/N chuckled and grabbed the bag, pulling out the blanket and tossing him the bottle of wine. “I’m glad it didn’t break from all the galloping.”
“Please, give Regent some credit,” Jeonghan said, catching the bottle deftly against his chest with a dramatic sigh of relief. “He knows how to handle precious cargo. Though, I admit, dodging those low branches in the dark while holding a bottle of the King’s finest vintage was a bit more athletic than my usual midnight strolls.”
Y/N shook out the heavy wool blanket, letting the sea breeze catch it before she laid it down on the soft, cool sand. The tension that had weighed so heavily on them earlier in the palace corridors had completely evaporated, replaced by the thrilling high of their shared escape.
Jeonghan walked over and sank down onto the blanket next to her. He popped the cork of the wine bottle with a satisfying click, taking a small sip before offering it up to her.
“To our first successful crime as a married couple,” he murmured, his silver eyes flashing with amusement under the moonlight.
Y/N took the bottle, her fingers brushing against his, and felt a familiar warmth rush through her veins. She took a sip, the rich, dark liquid chasing away the chill of the midnight air, before setting it down safely on the sand between them.
She looked out at the ocean, the waves crashing softly against the shore, and then turned her gaze back to him. There were no guards here, no council meetings, and no walls left to hide behind. Just the two of them, completely undefended in his sanctuary.
The silence between them was nice and comforting. For once, Y/N enjoyed the silence between her and Jeonghan, this time it was comfortable silence, not the suffocating, heavy tension that usually kept them locked on opposite sides of a room. It wasn’t a wall built out of pride, nor was it a quiet tactical truce between two strangers sharing a crown.
It was just peace.
Jeonghan pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his arms over them as he looked out at the dark expanse of the water. The silver light of the moon caught the sharp angles of his face, softening the regal, calculated look he usually wore for the world. He looked younger out here, completely stripped of courtly expectations, just a boy sitting on a beach with a stolen bottle of wine.
“You’re thinking very loudly, Princess,” he murmured softly, not breaking his gaze from the rhythmic movement of the tide. A faint, easy smile played at the corner of his lips.
Y/N let out a soft breath, her shoulders dropping as she relaxed back onto her hands, sinking slightly into the sand beneath the blanket. “I was just thinking that it’s quiet. Truly quiet. I don't think I've felt this kind of stillness since I left the north.”
“I’m glad,” Jeonghan said, finally turning his head to look at her. The amusement in his silver eyes had deepened into something incredibly warm, mirroring the steady, rhythmic pulse of the ocean behind him. “The palace has a way of crowding your mind, even when you’re completely alone in a room. Out here, there's no one to perform for. It’s just us.”
He shifted slightly, closing the small distance between them on the blanket until his shoulder brushed against hers. The contact was simple, but it sent a spark of electricity straight through her. Y/N didn’t pull away this time. Instead, she leaned into the touch, letting the steady warmth of his body anchor her against the cool sea breeze.
Jeonghan looked down at where their shoulders met, his smile softening. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and slid his hand over the blanket, leaving his palm open in a silent invitation.
Y/N looked at his hand, then up at his eyes. There were no political contracts forcing her hand tonight, no guards watching their every move, and no lingering fears of vulnerability holding her back. She had run away into the dark with him, broken the palace laws, and successfully defended her place by his side. She was ready.
She slid her hand into his, her fingers tangling tightly with his long, elegant ones.
Jeonghan’s breath hitched slightly at the gesture. He didn't waste another moment. Gently pulling on her hand, he guided her closer until she was forced to turn toward him. He reached up with his free hand, his fingers gently cupping the side of her jaw, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbone to brush away a stray lock of windswept hair.
His eyes dropped to her lips, burning with a fierce, quiet intensity that made her heart skip a beat.
“Can I?” he whispered, his voice a low, rough murmur against the sound of the crashing waves.
Y/N didn't give him a verbal answer. Instead, she closed the remaining distance herself, leaning forward to press her lips firmly against his.
The kiss was entirely different from the panicked rush of the beach or the guarded hesitation of the palace corridor. It was deep, breathless, and filled with the wild, reckless adrenaline of their midnight escape. Jeonghan let out a soft, shuddering sigh against her mouth, his grip on her waist tightening as he pulled her flush against his chest, deepening the kiss with a desperate, pouring relief.
It was a promise sealed in the dark, far away from ink and parchment, proving that they had finally found their own sanctuary.
Jeonghan slowly wrapped his other hand that wasn’t holding her jaw to wrap around her waist and to gently lay her back against the blanket.
“Jeonghan,” she sighed between kisses.
“Tell me if it’s too much princess,” he smiled against her lips and moved to prop himself up on one elbow to slightly hover above her. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes, “I’m beautiful after breaking the law and sneaking off to your secret cove?”
Jeonghan nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “you look extra beautiful because you broke the law and snuck off to my secret cove. I thought you were beautiful from the moment I saw you.”
Y/N blushed at his flattery and gently ran her fingers through his silver hair. It was always so well put together and looked so off limits to everyone, so it was very special that he had let her play with it at all.
Before she could say anything about his beautiful hair Jeonghan had leaned in and started pressing kisses along her jaw and down her neck.
“Jeonghan,” she chuckled, “here?”
Jeonghan didn’t stop, but he took his hand that was cupping her jaw to hold hers, “I want to have you in the only place in the whole kingdom that is our’s, princess.”
Y/N blushed again at his words, before nodding as Jeonghan slowly started pushing the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders. The cool breeze of the waves in the middle of the night were enough to harden her nipples when he pulled her dress down to around her waist.
Jeonghan’s eyes widened at the sight of her body reacting so quickly, and quickly moved to lick one of her nipples, causing her to arch her back further into his touch.
“You’re reacting so well to me,” Jenoghan groaned against her skin, switching his attention between breasts and pushing her dress down further down until it was bunched around her ankles, leaving her completely bare in the middle of the beach.
“Your turn,” she said tugging on his shirt as he scoffed at her urgency.
“I suppose it’s only fair,” he started to say before Y/N started tugging his shirt over his head, causing him to laugh, but he obliged her and fully took off his shirt. “I’m gonna remember that. That you were begging to see me shirtless.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and tugged at his hair, “enough talking Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan nodded his head before returning his attention to her body. He moved his mouth from her chest down to her stomach and then between her legs. As soon as he made contact with her core, Y/N tugged on his hair again. Although this time he was sure she was going to pull some of it out, but he didn’t mind, because she tasted sweet.
“Jeonghan!” She moaned, feeling one of his hands to hold her hand the other one went to grope her breast.
He moved between licking up her slit to sucking on her bud. Whatever he was doing was enough to make her climax. As soon as she did, Jeonghan had parted his mouth from between her legs and instead inserted two fingers inside her. Y/N gasped at the sudden intrusion, but Jeonghan didn’t relent and started moving his fingers.
“Need to see if you can take all of me princess,” he groaned, the sight of her arched back and writhing on the blanket was enough to make him see stars himself. “Does that feel good princess?”
Y/N nodded and reached out to grab at his shoulder, something to try and help ground her because the pleasure was almost too much to bear. “Why are your fingers so long?”
Jeonghan chuckled and pressed a kiss to her belly button as he slowly made his way up to her face. Once her met her eyes he gave her a small, genuine smile and slowly pushed a third finger into her, causing her to squirm more.
“That’s the thing about long fingers baby, you can fit more of them.”
Y/N scoffed, but was too lost in pleasure to say anything about his remark. “Don’t stop.”
Jeonghan shivered at the cool breeze from the ocean and leaned further into her body and connected their lips again as he felt her come apart on his hand. Y/N loudly moaned as she came on his hand, throwing her head back and using one of her hands to wrap around his shoulders to keep him in place as she slowly came down from her high.
Once her high had finished and Jeonghan had pulled his hand from between her thighs, Y/N finally pushed him off her slightly to allow herself to catch her breath. Jeonghan smiled and licked his fingers clean of her release while Y/N looked up at the full moon that had come out since they had arrived at the beach.
“If I haven’t told you yet princess, I love you.”
Y/N looked over to Jeonghan and for the first time since they had laid eyes on each other, there were no other feelings clouding her mind. There was no lingering doubt, no shadow of political duty, and no echo of her father's warnings about betrayal. The armor she had worn like a second skin for years felt completely weightless, discarded on the sand between them.
The word love usually felt heavy, dangerous, and conditional in her world. But hearing it slip from his lips in the quiet dark of the cove, it sounded entirely different. It sounded like an anchor.
She looked at the soft curve of his smile, the earnest light in his silver eyes, and felt a profound, settling warmth expand in her chest.
“You haven't,” she whispered back, her voice shaking just a fraction, though her gaze remained fiercely steady. She reached up, her fingers sliding into the cool, windswept strands of his hair, anchoring him close. “But you don't have to worry. I am not running away anymore, Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan’s smile widened, a look of pure, unadulterated relief washing over his face. He leaned down, catching her lips in another kiss that tasted of sweet wine and sea salt, slower and deeper this time, as if he finally had all the time in the world to show her exactly what he meant.
He slowly peeled himself off her after a few more pecks on the lips and kicked his pants off before patting his own lap. “Come ride me princess.”
Y/N chuckled at his bluntness but slowly straddled his torso, her core brushing over his thigh. Jeonghan smirked and moved his hands to settle on her hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs over them and looking at her with the loved up eyes.
“What?” Y/N asked, as Jeonghan shrugged his shoulders and grabbed for her left hand, connecting their fingers and squeezing.
“You never said it back,” he said.
Y/N’s face instantly softened at his words. She didn’t give out those three words very often, only when she truly meant it and she rarely met people that have earned her love, but Jeonghan was someone who had earned it. So she’d comply.
“I love you Yoon Jeonghan. You may be the prince of Hespros, but you’re also the king of my heart,” she smiled as she lined herself up with his member and slowly sank down onto him causing Jeonghan to groan and squeeze both their interlocked hands and his grip on her hip.
Y/N also had a bit of a hard time adjusting to Jeonghan, but she had some help prior so it didn’t take as long to get used to Jeonghan’s as much as he was getting used to her.
“You’re still so tight princess, even though I tried to stretch you out,” he moaned, as Y/N slowly started to move her hips back and forth on him. Jeongahn chuckled at her impatience and moved his hand that was on her hip to up her waist to try and stop her from moving, but it was no use. “Shit, Y/N.”
Y/N smiled, it was one of the rare times Jeonghan had actually called her by her name. He had always called her princess, but being called something other than princess in this situation felt intimate. She continued to move her hips and bounce on his lap before Jeonghan’s grip on her hips tightened.
“I’m coming,” he gasped, moving one of his hands to in between her thighs to rub her bud, helping her climax with him. Once they had both climaxed, Y/N slumped her body on top of his, fully moving from his lap, but the rest of her body had gone limp from all the activity. After a few more seconds of catching their breaths and exchanging some kisses Y/N slowly moved off of Jeonghan’s lap, to the blanket and laid down on her back, looking back up to the full moon.
“You know, Jeonghan, I thought you would ruin my life,” Y/N murmured, her voice laced with a quiet, ironic humor that made him pause.
Jeonghan blinked, a startled laugh slipping from his lips as he looked over to her. “Well, that is certainly a comforting thing to hear after a declaration of love, Princess. Should I be flattered or worried?”
“Flattered,” she said, her fingers tightening slightly in his hair, preventing him from pulling too far away. Her expression softened, the teasing light in her eyes giving way to something much deeper, much more vulnerable. “On the Iron Coast, we are taught to see every outsider as a threat to our peace. When I was told I had to marry a southern prince, I thought my freedom was over. I thought you would be a gilded cage, a political trap designed to break everything I was.”
She leaned her forehead against his, her breath warm against his skin in the midnight chill.
“But you didn't ruin my life,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You just ruined the walls I built to hide from it. You made me realize that staying safe in armor isn't the same thing as actually living.”
Jeonghan’s chest rose and fell in a heavy, breathy sigh. The slight tension in his shoulders melted away completely, replaced by a profound tenderness that crinkled the corners of his silver eyes. He slid his hand from her jaw down to the nape of her neck, pulling her just a fraction closer until their lips were almost touching.
“Then I am entirely glad to be a ruinous influence, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a low, beautiful rumble. “And I promise to keep ruining every single defense you try to put up between us, for as long as you'll let me.”
“Why are you so happy today?” Yujin asked Y/N when she skipped into the dining hall for breakfast.
Y/N just shrugged her shoulders and pulled out the chair beside her sister, Jeonghan right behind her and sitting across from Y/N.
“Did you two do something nefarious last night?”
Jeonghan shot his hands up in defense, “No. Not at all, just went for a late night ride.”
Y/N chuckled at his words as Yujin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I thought you said yesterday that the stables close at ten?”
Y/N and Jeonghan only giggled under their breaths, exchanging a brief, knowing glance across the table that spoke of moonlit cliffs and hidden horses.
Yujin rolled her eyes, throwing her linen napkin down onto the table with a dramatic sigh. “Unbelievable. You two look like a pair of stable cats that successfully raided the creamery. And you,” she pointed a stern, sisterly finger at Jeonghan, “are supposed to be the responsible crown prince. Instead, you are enabling her worst northern habits.”
“I assure you, Lady Yujin, I am a model of absolute decorum,” Jeonghan said, though the brilliant, wicked spark in his silver eyes completely betrayed his deadpan delivery. He reached for the teapot, pouring a cup for Y/N first with a smooth, effortless grace. “The horses simply required some unexpected midnight exercise. For their health, you understand.”
“Right. For their health,” Yujin scoffed, though a small, relieved smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she looked between them. The icy, suffocating tension that had hung over the couple the day before had completely vanished, replaced by an easy, radiant warmth that filled the entire dining hall. “Well, whatever laws you broke, at least it fixed your terrible moods. You both smelled of doom yesterday.”
Y/N took a sip of her tea, the warmth spreading through her chest as she looked across the table at her husband. He was already looking back at her, his expression soft and completely stripped of his usual courtly armor. They had a kingdom to run, an alliance to maintain, and undoubtedly a very angry royal groom to face later in the day, but sitting here in the bright morning light, Y/N knew they could handle all of it. Together.
A/N: Hey everyone! Holy cow, it’s here!!! This was a beast to write and tbh i’m not 100% sure if i love the ending of it. I think it’s a good ending, but I can’t think of what it needs to make it great without breaching 40k-50k words, so I’m gonna say that this is good enough and that there is always room for me to write more about this couple later. I just want you guys to have it and I want to work on something else now XD I’ve been working on this for like 5ish months XD. It also looks like the next installment of the series is going to be seungcheol, so strap in tight because I have an idea of what I want to do for him (Mwuah hahahah)
synopsis: a night in a random jazz bar in seoul leads to an alluring encounter with yoon jeonghan. a steamy night spent with him sparks a deep desire he could never get over. he finds you mysterious, sexy, unforgettable, and would do whatever it takes to see you again.
when you encounter him again, it happens at a hospital—with him as your patient, and you as his anaesthesiologist.
pairing: jeonghan x anaesthesiologist! f! reader
content: non-idol au, strangers to lovers, smut (MDNI), p with basically no plot, fluff, oneshot
word count: ~7k
rating: 18+
warnings under the cut!
— likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
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warnings: short story, one night stand, tipsy/drunk sex (they’re both drunk), mentions of alcohol (a lot), pet names (sweetheart, angel, pretty), cursing, fingering, very very brief oral (m. receiving), protected piv sex, penetrative sex, riding, jeonghan remains nameless for the first part of the story but we all know it’s him, obsessive jeonghan? but not creepy obsessive, he just wants to see you again (desperately), jeonghan makes a few dirty jokes, one scene inspired by kdrama mr. plankton, jeonghan lowkey clingy, implied sex, haven't proofread so there may be some mistakes
a/n: can i just say that jeonghan’s sex appeal is just absolutely insane? like he just exudes so much sensual energy it genuinely drives me insane (i know this is an insane thing to say but this is tumblr so i know y’all won’t care).
anyways, i wrote this story trying to convey that energy he gives off, and make the overall vibe as mysterious and alluring as possible. couldn’t stop thinking about him so i mainly just wrote this for myself.
another thing: this is just a short story i wanted to release in the meantime before writing up any of my longish ones. it’s not my best work and i am aware.
hope you enjoy tho ~
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Friday nights in Seoul usually went one of two ways. Depending on your mood, you would either be up in your apartment reading a book, or in a random bar in the heart of the capital clinking champagne glasses with your friends.
Tonight, you actually did both.
Your original plan was to quietly wind down after a particularly long shift at the hospital. You couldn’t name anything better to do than to sit on your bed with a romance book in one hand and a cup of steaming tea in the other.
While your eyes were carefully tracing along the words on the crisp white paper, a ringing tone suddenly resounded throughout your bedroom. You didn’t move to pick it up. You simply peered over your book, wanting to see whether the phone call was worth picking up or not.
Mina is calling…
An audible sigh left your mouth. You knew exactly what she was going to ask. You pondered for a moment whether to answer the call or leave it to ring and make up an excuse later.
The longer you waited, though, the more irritating the ringing sounds got. Defeated, you roughly grabbed the vibrating device and clicked accept.
“Hello?” Your voice was quiet, much like your current state of mind.
“Hi babe. Do you wanna join Haeun and I for some drinks?” Mina’s voice was barely heard over the obnoxiously loud saxophone playing in the background. You could immediately tell that she was out in a bar. Whether you wanted to join her though, was something you would have to deeply consider.
“Uh…” You trailed off, your mind conflicted.
Truthfully, you were barely following along the storyline of the book you were reading. You weren’t sure if it was a side effect of today’s long shift or if the story was simply uninteresting, but you couldn’t lose yourself in it like you usually did whenever you read.
But the thought of leaving the comfort of your own den to be in the presence of other people made you a little dizzy. You were around enough people today to want to do that again. You were usually the type of person to hit up a bar only when you were in an energetically good mood. Tonight was certainly not one of those days.
But oddly enough, drinking sparkly champagne and basking in slow and soulful jazz had its own special charm, and the thought of it was tempting you to jump out of your bed and throw on a pretty dress.
“It’s such a vibe here. Music’s great and so are the people.” She added, making you even more conflicted.
Between a pros and cons list written in your head and an internal battle you fought with yourself, you quickly stood up from your bed, your hand carefully setting down the warm mug on your bedside table.
“Text me the location. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Atta girl.” Mina laughed, before hanging up the call.
You didn’t give yourself time to regret your decision. You walked over into your closet, your eyes gingerly skimming over your options for attire. You were in the middle of processing various different outfits inside your mind when a certain piece fell into your line of vision.
You carefully inspected it. It was a new dress you had purchased around two months ago. You bought it with the original hope of wearing it to a lively party, but you completely forgot about it and left it in your closet to collect dust. You couldn’t owe it to anything besides your hectically busy schedule keeping you too occupied to think about enjoying yourself.
It was a long-sleeved black lace dress, riskily backless with a square neckline and a length just shy of grazing your ankles. It was truly a mesmerising piece, and just looking at it now made you remember exactly why you purchased it in the first place. You gently grabbed it from the rack and took it back out into your bedroom, placing it down onto your bed.
Your books and tea were long forgotten now, your initial evening plan replaced with a new one. Your mind busily spun with eagerness to enjoy yourself tonight, you wanted nothing more than to get lost in music and expensive alcohol.
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The venue buzzed with life and spirit. You were immediately greeted with deeply rhythmic and soothing tunes, peaceful yet gracefully resonant. The bar was small enough to feel cozy, but large enough to fit crowds. The lighting was dark and chic, yet bright enough for you to easily scan the faces within. Your eyes looked for the faces of your friends, weaving through the crowd of slow dancing bodies.
When their presence caught your eye, you slipped past the dancers, ignoring the way you felt almost a million pairs of eyes boring into your soul. You knew the attention would come with wearing such a ravishing dress. You also knew that you weren’t naive enough to mistake the hunger in their eyes for something akin to love or genuine affection.
When you reached the table your friends were seated at, a smile graced your face when you saw their faces.
“Girl! You look amazing.” Mina exclaimed, standing up to hug you tightly in her arms. Haeun stood up the same, her face accompanied by a genuine smile.
“You look stunning. That dress is a killer.” Haeun commented, looking at you up and down with a smirk. You threw your head back with a sweet laugh, before letting Mina go to grab onto Haeun.
“Says you guys? Show me the back.” You smiled, laughing softly as you watched your friends do a twirl. The next thirty seconds were occupied with a vicious compliment battle, and it only ended when the three of you sat down after Mina shared news of a fight she had with her now ex-boyfriend.
The three of you were deeply engaged with the conversation, occasionally stopping to sip on red wine or sparkling champagne.
As you delicately held the champagne flute up to your lips, you noticed a sharp gaze watching you from afar. His stare never wavered, and it sent a shiver down your spine. Not out of fear, but out of pure captivation.
He lazily leaned back against the wall, wine glass held lightly between his long fingers. His hair was short, dark and tussled, a few pieces landing loosely over his forehead. His lips appeared plump and full as they wrapped sensually around the glass. His eyes were round yet his gaze was hooded, his pupils dark as he never looked away. Neither did you.
There was something about him that was so alluring, tempting, hypnotising. You didn’t know if it was his face that gave off that impression, or the way that he carried himself. But one thing you knew for sure: if you didn’t look away from him right now, you would be in deep trouble by the end of the night.
You snapped out of the short-lived trance and turned your attention back to your friends, your brain re-registering the familiar conversation you accidentally strayed away from.
You ignored his continuous gaze, but you couldn’t ignore the way you felt the air shift. The room suddenly felt too small. The air suddenly felt too warm. You hoped that it was the buzz of the alcohol in your system, and not because of the way the tempting stranger watched you like he wanted to eat you alive.
You kept your composure, not wanting to show you got affected by some random stranger’s attention. You were better than that. You weren’t one to associate yourself closely with people you didn’t know the names of. But something in you was inviting you to enter the vicinity of the stranger, speak to him, kiss him, and do anything that would ease the ache between your legs and the thumping of your heart.
You cleared your throat. You quietly excused yourself from the conversation, heading over to the bartender to order yourself another drink. You needed it to kill the thoughts in your head. Though, you wondered if it was the alcohol that was making you think this way in the first place. An audible sigh left your mouth as you sat down on the stool.
“One martini, please.” You requested, pulling out your card to pay. Before the bartender was able to take it from you, another card appeared before your eyes.
“Add a whiskey onto that.” A smooth, velvety voice resounded from beside you, as the bartender nodded and took the card from his hand. You turned your head toward him, knowing full well it was going to be that handsome man. When your eyes peered into his mildly familiar dark ones, a light chuckle left your mouth.
“I had a feeling you would appear like this.” You replied, voice steady.
“Should I have made a grander entrance?” He teased, leaning his arm against the counter. The corners of your lips lifted ever so slightly.
“I think I would’ve appreciated a little more effort.” You returned the teasing tone, your posture steady but relaxed in your seat.
He placed his arm on the back of your stool as he brought himself closer to you.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” His smile was smug. You could hear the intention behind his words. Surprisingly, though, it didn’t revolt you a bit. In all honesty, you enjoyed it.
“And when will that next time be?” You leaned your chin into your palm, your lashes batting prettily at him. He shifted in his seat, the action so mild you barely caught it. A small smirk made its way to his lips.
“Whenever you want, pretty.” His nickname made you grow hot all over. You tried to not make it obvious that you were nervous.
When the bartender brought out the drinks, you quietly sipped on your martini, the strong, bitter liquid oozing down your throat. You hoped the feeling would temporarily distract you from the tense air.
“So, what brings you here?” He broke the silence, swirling his thick glass gently.
A soft chuckle left your mouth.
“The same reason why everyone else is here.” You sighed, your fingers fidgeting over the counter.
He raised an eyebrow.
“To get wasted?” The sound of your laugh made his heart pinch. He had never heard such a beautiful sound.
“To forget about life.” Your words were vague. You made it that way. You didn’t feel the need to say anything more. Especially to a stranger.
He hummed at your words, his eyes carefully watching the side of your face. You felt yourself burn under his unreadable gaze. You wondered if that was the effect he had on everyone.
“How long are you going to keep staring at me like that for?” You turned your head toward him, a teasing smile playing on your face. His expression didn’t change.
“Until you tell me to stop, sweetheart.” He brought the golden whiskey to his lips, eye contact not faltering for even a moment. Something about it felt so intimate. Your breath hitched when he gently tucked your hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just a little too long near your face, its movements catching every bit of your attention.
“Until you tell me to stop.” He repeated, his voice dialed down to a soft whisper.
“What if I tell you to keep going?” You asked, voice hushed and sensual.
“Then I’ll do just that.” He whispered, his hand landing gently on your thigh, fingers casually caressing your lace covered thigh. Your heart drummed wildly in your chest.
“And if I tell you to do more?” You pushed, hand barely touching his, wide eyes staring attentively into his. He immediately stopped caressing your thigh. His fingers grabbed onto yours lightly, a smug smile forming on his face.
“Fuck, you’re unreal.” He swore under his breath, and for the first time tonight, he looked away from your face. You giggled at his reaction.
Once he composed himself, he stood up from his seat, bringing you up with him. It was only now that you realised just how devastatingly attractive his build was. Lean and tall, posture straight and outfit undeniably striking. He looked like a dream.
His hand, still held onto yours, pulled you in close. You didn’t miss the way the strong, masculine scent of his cologne infiltrated your nose. He smelt clean, powerful, intoxicating. It made you feel instantly dizzy.
“My place or yours, angel?” He whispered, mouth dangerously close to your ear. It sent a deep shiver down your spine.
In response, you poked your finger lightly into his chest, a playful smile on your face.
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The drive back to his home was something you could barely recall. One second, you were flirting with him in a bar, and the next, and you were slowly making out with him at the entrance of his dimly lit apartment. You didn’t even get a chancd to tour his place. Not that it was high on your priority list, but still.
Lips clashed and tongues collided the moment you stepped past the door, his hands on your body immediately. It started off slow and sensual, with the way his hands gently grabbed your face to bring you closer to him than possible, and the way you wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss him deeper.
His soft lips sucked on your own, his whiskey coated tongue delicately exploring the inside of your mouth. You moaned sensually when he lightly grabbed your ass, the sound something he could never forget for a lifetime. He tasted so sweet, and he smelled so masculine it was driving you insane.
You pulled his body closer to you, pushing up against his chest. He groaned when he felt your breasts rub up against him, his cock immediately twitching in his pants.
He slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours for even a moment. You felt your knees weaken under his gaze. You had to hold onto him tighter for support, making him groan quietly.
“Fuck, you’re an absolute goddess.” He whispered before picking you up. Your legs wrapped around his torso immediately, head falling back with a whine when he began sucking on your bare, exposed neck.
He walked towards a certain direction, hands tightly gripping your ass and mouth never leaving your neck.
When he entered his bedroom, he laid you down gently on the bed, his hands holding himself up over you. When he kissed you again, it was passionate, deep and desperate.
Your hands began to make its way to his chest, fingers clumsily trying to undo his collared button up. When you eventually pulled off his shirt, it exposed his bare chest, making your face warm inexplicably at the sight. Your hands flattened against his pecs, his skin painfully warm beneath your palm.
He kissed you again, making you moan into his mouth. His hands groped your chest harshly before he began slipping your lacy attire off. When he noticed the black lace lingerie that perfectly hugged your figure, he groaned. Deeply.
“Fucking hell.” His words made a wave of arousal shoot through your body. You shivered under him, eyes staring sensually into his. When he completely slipped your dress off, his eyes never left your figure, hissing like it was painful that you looked so soft, dreamy and utterly beautiful.
You stared at him dazed until he slipped your underwear off and slid a single finger inside. A soft whimper left your mouth when he pushed it in deeper, the action proving to be easy with your dripping slick.
Your back arched instinctively when a slipped a second finger in, a salacious moan exiting past your lips. He carefully watched your face for your reaction, his lips curving up into a smirk. He knew he would never forget this sight. He didn’t want to, anyway.
You choked out a whimper when he brought his other hand to your core, his thumb pressing against your swollen clit. When he began rubbing circles on the sensitive nub, you knew it would be over for you soon.
You could feel yourself near your high at exponential speed, walls clenching impossibly tight around his long fingers. You grabbed onto his shoulders desperately as you threw your head back, a near-scream leaving your mouth. Your walls convulsed instantly around him as an intense wave of pleasure rolled through your entire body.
“Just like that, baby.” He whispered softly, fingers thrusting you through your high. When you eventually came down, your body slumped against the bed, a satisfied smile on your face.
He slapped a quick kiss to your lips before slowing pulling his fingers out of you, eliciting a soft whimper from you. Content, he sucked your essence from his fingers, eyes staring directly into your soul. The action alone made you weak. You wanted to pounce on him right then and there.
“Need you.” You whined, before seating yourself on his lap and grinding your bare core against his clothed pelvis. You were far too gone to feel any shame. You really wanted nothing else but the man before you to fuck you into oblivion.
A smug smile formed on his face as he grabbed your hips, pushing you flush against him. When he saw your slick drench his pants, he nearly growled.
“Fuck. Desperate little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was mocking, and if you weren’t buzzed with alcohol, you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you whimpered at the friction, desperate eyes glued shut with immense pleasure.
“Please. Please, fuck me.” You whispered, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck. A humoured chuckle left his mouth.
“Such a polite yet dirty mouth. Where did you learn to speak like that?” You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your mind was too lust hazed to even think clearly.
He quietly sucked on your neck harshly before pulling away to slip his trousers off. When he eventually lowered his boxers, his cock sprung out, length flushed and veins pulsing. When he noticed you staring wide eyed, a soft laugh left his mouth.
“Is this the first time you’re seeing one, angel?” He teased, eyebrow lifted with humor.
“I’ve seen a dick before.” You rolled your eyes.
“Really? You look like you didn’t even know it exist-”
Before he was able to finish his sentence, you wrapped your lips around his warm tip and sucked gently, licking off his leaking precum, eyes never leaving his. His body jerked instantly and his head flew back, a low groan leaving his mouth.
Before you were able to suck him in deeper, his hand grabbed your hair and pulled you off. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his glistening length. The sight alone was enough to have you clenching your thighs together.
“Naughty girl.” His chest heaved up and down. You smiled cheekily before kissing his tip gently, making his head throw back again with a groan.
“God, you’re insatiable.” He caressed your cheek softly before his hand began to fumble around his bedside table. His hand returned with a packaged condom, and before you knew it, he was ripping it open with his teeth and sliding it effortlessly over his thick cock.
He signalled you to line yourself up—and that you did. You slowly sank down onto him, mewling in delight as he inched deeper. When he effectively bottomed out, a deep groan left his mouth.
“You’re so tight, baby.” His hands wrapped around your waist, grip tightening subtly whenever you clenched around him.
When you felt comfortable enough to move, you slowly started bouncing on him, whimpers leaving your mouth as you felt your velvety walls drag along his veiny cock. Your hands immediately grabbed onto his shoulders for stability, knowing that if you didn’t, your body wouldn’t have the strength to hold yourself up for any longer than three seconds.
A string of salacious moans left your mouth with each desperate bounce. You thought the alcohol in your system would completely dull any sensation you felt, but it did nothing to prevent the shivering pleasure from rolling through your body. You had never felt this pleasured before in your life. It made you quietly wonder just how good this experience would’ve been if you hadn’t sipped on that martini tonight.
Your brief thread of thoughts were interrupted when the handsome stranger began suckling on your exposed neck, hand gently tilting your head up to ensure his access. You shivered under his delicate touch, mouth agape when you felt his tongue slowly lick your heated skin.
“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes rolling back.
You felt him smirk against you, breath heavy along your throat.
The combination attack was much too strong for you to handle. You couldn’t stop the wave of pleasure from hitting you even if you tried. You threw your head back when it finally hit you, a near-scream leaving your mouth as you shook around his pulsing length.
“That’s it, baby.” He whispered, voice low and deep. His eyes, dark and lustful, stared at the connecting point between the two of you, watching the way your folds sucked him and and squeezed him tight.
Eventually, his own cock throbbed with a desperate need for release, and when you clenched one last time, he felt himself shoot his sticky cum into the elastic condom that ever so slightly sagged with the weight of his milky seed.
For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breaths, body heat and sticky air. You didn’t mind. You needed time to come back down from the mind blowing experience you just went through. You needed time to register everything that happened.
In the midst of lust-filled glances and lingering touches, you couldn’t help but feel conflicted.
You were conflicted on whether you were even the so-called “I don’t do one night stands” type of girl anymore.
1 — because you enjoyed this experience much more than you would ever admit to your smug friends, who would tease you for days on end if they ever even heard of it.
(You would do it all again in a heartbeat, though).
And 2 — well, because now you regretted having experienced something so good that you knew you would be thinking about it for weeks, if not months.
You knew the alcohol couldn’t shoo it away — even if you had gulped down three bottles of wine and a couple glasses of whiskey.
You silently wondered if it was all a good idea. If one night of absolute pleasure with the most beautiful man was actually enough.
Spoiler alert — it wasn’t.
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Quiet days had slipped by swiftly, as if the universe gently nudged the Earth to spin faster than it typically did.
You hadn’t minded.
In fact, you actually enjoyed the feeling of time passing by. All of which you owed to one thing—one person.
In the early hours of the morning after that unforgettable night, you were called in for an emergency surgery.
You had no time to wake the naked man beside you, with his eyes closed and back turned to you as his breaths moved rhythmically even.
Actually, you probably could’ve left a note, number or anything, but you didn’t.
Simply because you didn’t want to face the consequences of your drunk-self’s actions. Having to wake up with a sober yet aching head and contemplating whether you should run away and never think of it again or leave a note and pray for a call back, was something you hated immensely. It hurt your hungover brain too much for you to do.
Which is why you gave it no thought and chose to simply run away. You had a surgery to get to, anyway. At least you would have an excuse to use if you ever cross paths with him again—not that you thought it was possible, since you vowed to not hang around any jazz bars for the next few months. Or maybe a few years. Just until you forget about the whole thing.
Which was proving to be highly difficult, unsurprisingly.
It had been exactly three weeks since the incident.
You honestly hoped that by now, you would’ve forgotten the man’s face, his voice, that night, and everything else that had to do with him.
Yet, all you could think about was him. His face, his body, his fingers, the way he touched you, the way he pleasured you.
Every night you subconsciously dreamed about either crossing paths with him again or reliving every moment of that night, from start to finish, accurately timed.
It was genuinely driving you insane. You had never felt this way about a man. Or anyone, for that matter.
Even your exes didn’t receive this much of your attention, occupy this much of your brain, and make you secretly wish that you could see him again.
He was a stranger. A nameless face. He would barely even classify as a fling.
So why was he making you feel like you lost something so important? Like you walked away from your best decision?
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶︶⊹
Jeonghan didn’t have much to say, besides the fact that he was basically in the exact same predicament as you—only about three times worse.
When he woke the next morning with vivid memories of the night before and a stupid smile on his face, he wanted nothing more but to turn around and see your beautiful self again—to cuddle you, swipe the hair away from your face and ask for the name his drunken self forgot to.
When he did eventually turn around in his bed, his heart almost stopped when his sleepy eyes didn’t catch sight of your figure.
He shifted around desperately in his king sized bed, shaking and shuffling his quilt in hopes that you were huddled somewhere in between.
When he didn’t find you, however, he was absolutely devastated. He touched around the spot next to him, hoping to feel the slightest bit of warmth that would indicate you had very recently left and that maybe he could catch you in the building’s elevators. But his hands felt nothing but a cold bed, and his eyes couldn’t find any sticky notes or any belonging of yours that he could trace to you.
It was like the night had never even happened — like it was a figment of Jeonghan’s wild imagination.
If it weren’t for the lingering scent of your perfume still hanging around his room, though, Jeonghan would’ve fully believed it.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶︶⊹
Over a month had passed since that night.
Jeonghan still hadn’t forgotten it. Not a single detail was lost from his memory. Unlike you, though, he didn’t mind it.
He actually used it to his advantage.
For about a week since the incident, Jeonghan hung around the jazz bar where he met you, in hopes that he could see you again. Though, he was met with nothing but pure disappointment when the face he couldn’t forget about appeared to be nowhere.
Week 2 was when he switched tactics.
He began hanging around other bars in the city, hoping that maybe he was looking in the wrong place. Maybe you liked to go to lots of jazz bars?
But still no luck.
Week 3, he stopped going to bars and started going to different cafes and restaurants—maybe you got sick of alcohol?
Week 4 was when he began to lose hope. He slowly stopped seeking out new places and went back to the rhythm of his usual life, while still quietly keeping an eye out for you, just in case.
He would give anything to see you again. Everyday he regretted not sharing any means of communication with you. He should’ve begged for your number, or begged you to take his. Or maybe he should’ve woken up before you to prevent you from running away from him in the first place.
A sigh left his mouth.
What he would give to turn back time.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶︶⊹
Enough time had passed for memories to start fading away and becoming a lost fragment of thought—in the case of anyone ordinary, to be exact.
Of course, Jeonghan hadn’t forgotten. He went back to his normal routine, but he didn’t forget a single thing.
He couldn’t, even if he tried to.
Today, he had a surgery on his elbow, something that he was not exactly looking forward to. He didn’t particularly enjoy being in the sterile environment of a hospital. Who did, anyway?
He was seated silently in the waiting area, patiently listening for his name to be called by a doctor or a nurse. It had been about 30 minutes since he had arrived, and the only things he did were check in at the reception and silently pray for the crying child next to him to please quiet down.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, hoping that his action would help him zone out and ignore the ear-splitting noise.
It didn’t work.
Frustrated, he opened his eyes again to look for an available seat that was further away from the tantrum-throwing kid.
But Jeonghan’s eyes didn’t find a chair.
They found you—standing straight in a white coat and scrubs, hair slicked back into a ponytail as you casually conversed with one of the reception nurses.
His heart immediately thrummed in his chest.
He finally found you.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶︶⊹
Jeonghan’s eyes didn’t leave you for a single moment.
He watched the way you stared at a clipboard, eyebrows scrunching as you carefully wrote something down, or the way your hands would sit in your pockets as you laughed at something a fellow colleague said to you.
From the night he met you, he already thought you were the most intriguing woman he had ever met. But seeing you here now, in the unlikeliest of places, in the most professional state, too, made his perception of you shift in a completely different direction. Not in a bad way, of course. It made him think you were much more interesting than he initially thought.
God, he couldn’t believe a woman like you actually existed. He also couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to have experienced you. And he couldn’t believe that he was given the chance to see you again. The universe was spoiling him rotten. He didn’t mind it, though. Not at all.
Just as he was contemplating whether he should approach you now or later—when there were less people—his name was called out.
And the voice that called it made Jeonghan’s heart pulse wildly in his chest. Again.
When he stood up in his seat, your eyes finally met his, and the realisation didn’t dawn upon you until he began to approach you.
Your eyes widened in disbelief.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶︶⊹
You didn’t say a word to him the entire way to the consultation room.
It wasn’t because you were nervous.
Frankly, you were really just speechless.
You thought the universe had left you off the hook when you didn’t cross paths with him for a whole 2 months. You were actually in the final process of forgetting the entire exchange.
But of course the world wanted to punish you from running away from something that you would end up thinking about for a long while.
You couldn’t help but wonder if you deserved it.
The two of you didn’t exchange a single word until you were seated in the small consultation room with the door closed shut.
The air was silent for a moment. And two. And three.
You cleared your throat.
“My name is Doctor [___]. I am your anaesthesiologist for your surgery today.” Your tone remained as professional as you could let it.
Jeonghan simply nodded, his eyes watching you carefully and intently. You shifted nervously in your chair, hating the burning feeling that was starting to bloom within you. You couldn’t let this affect you. Not now, in all places.
You began questioning him about his medical history, and completed the routine checks and conversations you usually had with all of your patients.
It started off well.
Your voice remained stable for the majority of the ordeal. Your tone was strictly professional, and your thoughts didn’t subconsciously stray off into an unwanted direction. You were pleased with yourself. If it weren’t for your burning face and thrumming heart, you would’ve thought he was just another patient.
You knew better, though.
“Do you have any questions?” You asked nervously, watching carefully for his reaction.
It didn’t help that his face remained completely unreadable for the entire interaction. And also the fact that he hadn’t said a proper word to you, at all. Not even a “hello” or an “okay.” All just nods or head shakes.
The room remained silent for several moments. You internally questioned whether you had even spoken any words to him in the first place. Were you just imagining this entire thing?
Just as you were about to open your mouth and say something, he spoke up.
“Why did you leave that morning?”
You remained silent. Your mouth was slightly agape at the unexpected question.
Actually, you should’ve expected it. From the beginning, the interaction was one-sided and terribly awkward. You should’ve seen it coming from miles away.
You didn’t know what to say. Maybe you could use the professionalism excuse?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Yoon, I don’t believe-”
“Jeonghan.” He interrupted, voice firm.
“What?”
“I think we’re way past the point of calling each other anything but our first names, sweetheart.” He clarified, eyes trained on you with raw intensity. Your face burned.
You sighed, defeat evident in your eyes.
“Jeonghan,” you corrected. “I’m sorry. For leaving that morning without a word. I don’t have a reason besides the fact that I was running away.”
“Running away from what?”
Another sigh left your mouth.
“I don’t know…I…I just—I didn’t know what to do, so I just left.” Your words felt muddled and incoherent. You wanted to slap yourself in the face. You knew it sounded like nothing but a lame excuse.
A moment of silence fell upon the room.
You flinched slightly when he shifted in his seat, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Would you do it again?” He suddenly posed, making you look up at him.
You remained silent. You knew the answer to it.
“Or do you have any regrets?”
“No.” You responded, almost instantly.
A small smirk crept up onto his face.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” Jeonghan stood up from his chair, back straightening with confidence.
“Jeonghan, I-” The apology died down on your lips when you noticed the way he was staring at you.
“I expect you to visit me after my surgery?” His lips curved up slightly, playfulness evident in his gaze.
You swallowed thickly, eyes shifting to your fidgeting fingers. You nodded.
“Okay.”
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶︶⊹
Before Jeonghan entered the peaceful, anaesthetised state, he watched the way you set up. You weren’t the only doctor in the room, yet he couldn’t bring himself to lay his eyes on anyone other than you.
Watching you in your element—the way you moved gracefully, the way you fitted on his mask and pressed buttons on a machine he knew nothing about—was something he didn’t realise he could enjoy so much. You were deeply professional down to your core, and with the way you handled everything like it was nothing made him feel deeply intrigued. And slightly aroused—but that wasn’t something he would willingly admit.
In the moments before the anaesthesia was to be administered, Jeonghan smiled like a child curiously watching their parents. He didn’t feel the usual sense of discomfort or displeasure that he normally would associate with undergoing surgery. He was actually excited to go under, because the quicker it happened, the quicker he could wake up and see your beautiful face again.
Because he knew you would be there.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶︶⊹
Jeonghan woke up barely even an hour after his surgery. His eyes slowly blinked open, and before he could properly register his surroundings, his eyes landed on you.
You had been quietly watching him for the past 20 minutes, waiting for the moment his round eyes would finally meet yours.
“You’re actually here.” He murmured, voice groggy. Your lips lifted into a soft smile.
“I am.”
“…I’m not dreaming, am I?” You let out a soft giggle.
“You’re not.”
He broke into a boyish grin. Your heart warmed at the sight.
“So, when will we go for round 2?” Your jaw dropped immediately, and you slapped his arm instinctively, not realising it was the side he received surgery on.
Jeonghan winced instantly, his other hand immediately grabbing onto it. Mortified, you scrambled in your seat.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” You cried. You quickly tried to inspect his arm, but before you could grab him, his hand stopped you.
“You’re sorry?”
You nodded hastily.
“Really sorry?” He raised a brow teasingly.
“Yes.” You whispered. You genuinely felt mortified.
“Then kiss it better.” He pointed at his elbow that was slung in a cast. An incredulous look formed on your face. He only smiled at you cheekily.
“Come on. I’m waiting.” He insisted. Your face warmed inextricably, and you had to repress the urge to slap him again.
“I’m not doing that, Jeonghan.”
He didn’t seem convinced.
“Then kiss my cheek then.” He pointed his finger at his face.
This guy.
“Lips?” You rolled your eyes at him.
“Are you going to take no for an answer?” You sighed, exasperated. He chuckled at your words.
“I mean, if you reaaaally don’t want to. I guess I can’t force you. But I really want you to. Please.”
His begging made your heart race quicker than you thought it could.
“Is that a no?” He pouted.
Before he had the chance to react, you quickly pecked a kiss onto his lips, the contact brief and sharp. Jeonghan froze immediately, not having enough time to process it before you already pulled back.
Your face warmed up completely, and you shifted your eyes away from him out of embarrassment.
Why did I do that?
“Come here.” He tapped on the free space on his bed. You broke out of your thoughts. You hesitated for a moment at his request, before reluctantly stepping to him and sitting carefully on his bed.
At the exact moment you sat down, his free hand gently grabbed your face and pulled you closer, before enveloping your lips with a soft kiss. This time it was much longer, much more electric and much more passionate.
You hated how soft his lips felt against yours. You hated the way his other hand gently grabbed onto your fingers before intertwining them with his own. You hated how it made your heart feel like it was going to thump out of your chest.
God, this man was going to be your undoing.
When you eventually pulled back, his eyes watched yours intently, with so much yearning it made you crave more.
“Can I do that again?” He whispered, cheeks dusted a light shade of pink. You giggled softly.
“I have to get back to work now.” You murmured, eye contact never ceasing. You squeezed his hand gently before standing up. Jeonghan only pouted.
“You’ll come back?” He asked.
A soft smile formed on your face.
“Yes.”
“You won’t run away again?”
“I promise.”
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ ︶⊹︶︶︶⊹
In the three months that had passed, Jeonghan’s elbow had healed, he had taken you out on a date, and you had slept with him too many times to even count. Apparently, you both just couldn’t get enough of each other, no matter how much time passes or however many times you fuck him in your apartment or his.
As of now, you were officially his girlfriend, and as his girlfriend, you were sleeping in his arms after a long movie marathon last night, something both of you didn’t really pay attention to, due to some other occupying activities.
Your head rested against his warm and bare chest, arm sprawled against his side. His breathing remained rhythmic and steady. You opened your eyes, gaze shifting to the calm expression on his face.
Gently, you cupped his cheek before leaving a soft kiss. As you rose up to leave the bed, Jeonghan’s hand quickly grabbed onto your arm. The sudden action surprised you.
“Don’t…leave me again.” He mumbled, voice thick with sleep. You giggled before sighing.
“It’s been three months, Hannie. I’m not going anywhere.” You pushed his hair out of his face.
“Gosh, sometimes I wonder why you’re so afraid of losing me.”
“You’re my dream woman. Of course I’d be scared.” You giggled shyly at his words.
“If I did run away, how long would you spend looking for me?”
Jeonghan groaned. He didn’t even want to think about it.
“However long it takes to find you.” His eyes were fully opened now.
“You’re not actually planning to run away, are you?” A laugh escaped your mouth.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t last a day without being in your arms.” A shy yet happy smile formed on his face.
“Plus, you can’t find dick like mine anywhere.” You immediately slapped his chest, flabbergasted that he could say that at barely 8am in the morning.
“I’m sure I can’t.” You played along, not wanting to upset him. You were still sore from last night. You needed at least a few more hours. Maybe even a day.
You laid your head back on his chest, your ear pressed firmly against him. His heart beat pulsed within your ear, the sound calming your mind.
“Angel?” He called out.
“Mm?”
“I love you. So much.” You smiled softly before pressing a kiss to his lips.
Pairing: Joshua Hong x AFAB!Reader
Summary: You tried to enjoy your time by the pool on vacation, your favorite romance book open on your tablet, but it's hard to pay attention when your fiancé is a full distraction on his own. Especially wet.
Word Count: 2652
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+
Warning: Wet Joshua (a warning of itself), smut, unprotected sex
A/N: I've had this in my saved fics for probably almost two months now? It meant to be a quick drabble but it turned into a small one shot. Its not really edited, i guess its okay. Just trying to get myself posting and writing again more. Enjoy.
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This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fair at all. No one should look as good as Joshua did emerging from under the water, pushing his wet dark hair out of his face in the process. Giving you a perfect view of his beautiful, sculpted body, water still clinging to his skin as he waded toward the side of the pool. His eyes fixed on something.
You.
He was going to the side of the pool where you were lounging under one of the umbrellas, shielding you from the sun but relished in the way the summer weather was warming your exposed skin. Large dark sunglasses resting on your nose, hiding away your hungry gaze, and a tablet resting in your hands; opened to the newest installment of your favorite romance stories. Two drinks sweating next to you, ice quickly melting into the liquid from the heat and the glass slick with condensation.
You both had quickly did away with the little umbrellas that was included, with them tossed haphazardly in your bag though you didn’t have intentions on keeping them at all. Just something done out of habit probably.
“How’s your book?” He asked, but from how intently you were watching him, it was clear you were not reading a single word on the screen. Too bad though, it was a particularly spicy scene that your loving fiancé had distracted you from, but you weren’t complaining. You had a better scene before you.
“It’s good. I thought I was going to finish it today, but I keep getting distracted.” You dramatically sigh, resting the tablet on your lap to grab your drink. “How’s swimming?”
“Distracted huh? I didn’t know someone could tear you from the reverse harem and the orgies came with it.” He teased, his large hands planting on the hot concrete to lift himself out of the pool and sat himself right on the edge. His body twisted so he was still giving you his attention. “It’s fun, but it would be more fun with you in there with me.”
“I think we have established Mr. Hong, that you are one of the leading causes of any distraction of mine. While I love reading about Lady Hart and her several lovers, the view of you dripping wet is much better.” You answer, this time closing your tablet and slipping it into your bag. If him just swimming around got you distracted, you might as well give up now that he was giving you attention. Shirtless and wet. “And I told you, I wasn’t in the mood to get wet…”
Joshua arched a brow, and your dark glasses hid how hard you rolled your eyes.
“In the pool at least.” You add, moving to hand him his drink. Which he took and smirked at you from behind the rim. “I do have to shower you know.”
“Haha very funny.” He remarks, taking generous gulp of the mixed drink. Watered down now, but it didn’t matter to either of you. The whole point of the weekend was to not worry so much. Who cares if the ice melted so the sweet drinks were nothing more than alcohol and juice flavored waters, or if you both ignored important calls from work.
Who cares if you both had sex at least three times that day, including riding him on the balcony of your hotel room right before the sun came up. Who cares that this was the first time you left the room too, just to go to the pool and eat lunch, and who cares that you now want to be back in the hotel room. Joshua can order you both room service after you milk him dry.
The thought already was making you wet again, and your cunt clenched around nothing at the mere idea of him inside you. Who cares that you wanted him to absolutely ruin you this weekend, and that he wanted to absolutely ruin you too.
Which from the way his eyes were running over you, knowing full well that you were watching him behind those glasses. Catching the way your thighs were shifting slightly and how your bathing suit top didn’t hide your nipples pressing against the fabric. He knew the signs all too well.
You don’t remember what excuse Joshua made to have you both leave the pool and go back to your room, just that he handed you his t-shirt to throw on while he grabbed your bag. He nearly made you trip over your sandals pulling you back into the hotel. After that, the trip back up was a blur, your brain was already on what you were going to do once in the room.
The door barely closed behind you when he had you pulled flushed against him, his plush lips pressed against yours in a fever. Tongue pressing eagerly against the seams of your own lips, and you were quick to let him deepen the kiss. Your hands pushing through his dark hair, still wet from the pool, while his own were already trying to pull off the shirt and your bathing suit. Your sunglasses were already lost somewhere near the door.
“There was no point of you wearing this,” Joshua growled between heated kisses, and this time he could see you roll your eyes.
“Well, I wasn’t going to go in a burka or be naked at the pool. Unless you wanted me to give everyone a show..” you couldn’t finish the sentence when his mouth pressed back against yours. A hand now grasping your hair in his fists, while the other was holding you against him. The offending material that was your bathing suit now lost in ether of your hotel room, and you were naked.
“The only show you’re going to give is to me. As you come apart on my cock so many times you’re crying,” You had to bite back the moan with the way his words would just change when you were alone. Please, do not get this wrong, one of the things you adored about Joshua was that he was such a gentleman and polite with his words. It was one of the things that made you fall in love with him. But there was just something about how that all disappears when you smart off to him in bed, and those polite words are replaced with filth. His knee finds its way between your thighs, pushing them apart to give enough room for his hand. Fingers barely brushing the slick folds, smirking that you were already so wet for him already.
“Shua…”
“Oh, my sweet angel.” It was almost condescending sounding, with the way he breathed it out, his mouth quickly moving from your lips to your breast. Stopping you from pushing his swim trunks down, to free his hard cock that was straining against the material, “you can’t say my name like that…”
“Joshua…” You spoke again this time adding a whimper that was going to be his undoing. He was always the type that would like to take his time with you, make sure you are near a mess before he finally gives you want you want, make you beg for it. Only he didn’t need to do all that other work right now, you were already begging for him. “Just fuck me.. please…”
“Fuck,” There was a groan to his words, and you were right to add that whimper. Even if you lost the feeling his fingers starting to circle your clit, ready to tease you until you were cumming on his fingers. Or almost. “How can I say no to that?”
Joshua then let you push his still wet trunks off him, finally letting his thick hard cock free. His skin was flush and hot, so it briefly made you wonder if he was still damp from the pool, or if this was already a thin layer of sweat from his worked up state. Your hand found its way around his shaft, feeling it twitch under your touch as you gave it a gentle pump before letting go. Your own fingers brushing against the sensitive member as you did like he had with his own.
You went to crawl onto the bed when you felt his hands grasp your hips, holding you to the edge of the bed. Joshua deciding how he wanted you instead of letting you decide. You wanted to skip right to it, and he gave you that, but he was going to fuck you in the position he wanted and that was on the edge of the bed.
He helped adjust so you were comfortable on the edge of the bed, your legs spread just enough to leave you completely open to him and ready for him to take you. Cunt glistening for him without him needing to do anything else but emerge from the water the way he did. A siren luring you in and bringing you to your death.
Luckily for your case, it wasn’t your death that he was going to bring you to. Though it wasn’t a bad way to go.
“You sure you don’t want me to work you some baby,” He murmured, his thumb running over your clit briefly before pushing it into you. Feeling the muscles clench tightly around the thick digit, “Or have I fucked you so much this weekend that you are ready for me any time? Hmmm?”
“Yes… fuck me..” You nod, pushing your hips back against his thumb despite your words, earning a clear chuckle from him. He didn’t remove his thumb right away, instead leaning forward to plant several kisses over your shoulder.
“God I love you,” the words fell his lips that was accompanied with a throaty moan, pressing an open mouth kiss over your shoulder. Then your head was pressed against the mattress, right as his thumb left your needy cunt. Your inner walls clenching desperately now around nothing.
He kept your head down when he slide the tip of his cock through your soaked lips, coating it with your slick. You went to return the words, tell him that you loved him back when he caught your entrance, and the mattress captured the words he pushes forward. You tried to wiggle your hips back, but he grabbed you at the waist and you were suddenly completely full of his cock.
A wanton cry left your lips as a clear moan leaves him, not allowing you a moment to adjust before he started to fuck into you. His hips slapping into you with brutal force, and you were grabbing at anything to try and level you. Your inner walls were already spasming around his cock, feeling every inch of him drag quickly through. Filling you over and over.
You could hear his grunt and breathy moans behind you, mixing with your own. He was taking your request exactly the way you wanted it. Just for him to fuck you the way he was, fingers massaging the flesh that he pressed into, his cock filling you completely. Words also started to fill the air, asking if this was exactly what you wanted.
“You like being treated like a fuck toy, don’t you?” He asked, grinding himself into you, watching as you nod pathetically. Then you were empty of him, and you nearly started crying because you could feel the pressure of release starting to build. You didn’t want to lose that momentum, you didn’t want to lose the build, and he did exactly like that to you. Feeling one of his hands on your thigh, you gasped when he easily flipped you onto your back.
Letting you see the way Joshua looked right then. His skin still hot and flushed, pupils blown, and mouth dropped from pleasure. His damp hair falling over his face, sticking to parts of his forehead. His eyes trailed over your own body, watching the way your breasts bounced with each panting breath, your own skin hot to the touch, and your own face rivalling his own. You were a perfect sight to him as he was to you.
Grasping his cock in his hands, he stroked himself as he leaned back over you. His other running flat over your body, through the valleys of your breast toward your neck. As his fingers light grasped your throat, you could feel the head of his cock returning to your entrance.
“Maybe, I should use you like this more often…” He muses, applying expert pressure on your throat, just enough to make it hard to catch your breath. “Would you like that, my angel?”
“Shua…” You managed out, feeling him push back into you as he kept the pressure. It was impossible to not let your eyes roll at the pleasure, not wanting to look away from the smile that plays over his lips. He knew the answer, you didn’t need to tell him. “Please…”
Dropping over you, Joshua hooked one leg as his mouth found yours. Pulling and capturing your moans with everything he was doing. The way he was teasing you with kisses, the pressure on your throat, and his cock pounding into you. Finally angled just right to press against the wall that house the bundle of nerves that was making you see stars.
The pressure starting to build in way you couldn’t imagine. He kept his hand where it was on your neck, but his mouth had moved from yours down to tease one of your breasts briefly. You were nothing but a mess under him, gasping, moaning his name, begging him to let you cum. That release was right there and all he needed was to push you just right and you were falling apart for him.
You would try to move your own hand down there, start circling your clit to help push you further, but Joshua wouldn’t let you. When he was fucking you like this, he wanted to be the sole reason you were falling apart. He didn’t need you to help him in any way. Joshua knew your body well enough to know just what to do, and when to do it. Even if he took his time sometimes.
Like now.
“Joshua… please… Let me…” You begged pathetically, and he only laughed before going back to sucking a bruise into your shoulder.
“Let you what, angel?” He asks, his hand already snaking between you, trying to not show that he was also very close to the edge. You felt so good, squeezing him, sounding so sweet. The sounds leaving your mouth and of how wet you were for him still. It was the closest to heaven he felt he could get at this moment.
“Let me cum!” You cry out, and of course, Joshua couldn’t refuse. His fingers tracing your clit, teasing it before finally touching it, right when you needed it the most. It was like everything around you exploded. Your vision blurred, your mouth fell open in a silent scream, your body shaking and muscles spasming, hands gripping his shoulders, and cunt clenching around him.
It was like a waterfall of curses started to fall out of Joshua, unable to stop them as his quickly followed. Filling your cunt with everything he had. His own eyes squeezed shut, and his own mouth opened with several words falling from his lips. Different things like curses, names that never left the bedroom, and sweet praises.
You both didn’t move for a moment, soreness finally taking over you both. The need to eat to regain your energy was what finally tore you apart. Only Joshua didn’t let you get up right away. Holding your legs as he watched his cum slowly drip out of you. A proud smirk playing over his face.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and then lets order food.” He spoke slipping onto his knees, ready to get you cleaned up.
Pairing: Non-Idol Jeonghan x F. Reader
WC: 14.5+K
Rating: E 18+ MDNI
Genre: Non-Idol AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, smut, fluff
Summary: Growing up, you and Jeonghan were inseparable, best friends, partners in crime, each other’s rocks when needed. It was always you and him against the world. Then you grew up. You moved away for college while he stayed behind. Lives took you in different directions, further away from your hometown, from the world you knew, from Jeonghan. But you both made a promise, the year you turned 31, you two would meet again no matter where life took you. To reconnect, to catch up, to remember your friendship. It was meant to be a rebirth of your friendship, but really it was the beginning of something more. And remind you that he's home
Tags: Non-Idol AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, Reuniting, mentions of teenage rebellion (smoking, drinking, other things teens shouldn’t be doing), rough housing, mention of family loss, yearning, Jeonghan is down bad, Member Appearances, drinking, smoking (weed and cigarettes), tension, flirting, angst, fluff, smut; Nickname: bug (hers)
Smut tags: Unprotected sex (no don’t do this), oral (m. receiving)
A/N: Here is my second submission for the wonderful The Reef In Bloom collab by @dorereef. Thank you again to @mylovesstuffs (for letting me use your name in this too!) and @nothoughtsjustfic for hosting this collab. This was alot of fun to write and be part of. I once more am happy to be part of it.
A/N2: Thank you for @gam3bo17 and @aeristudios for helping me out with this fic, and thank you Aeris for beta reading. You are the best! <3
I hope you all enjoy! My Jihoon submission will be later this week.
Seventeen Masterlist
*Twenty-four years ago*
“Yoon Jeonghan!” His mother’s voice boomed through the small home, your full name quickly following, but it was fruitless. The two of you were already running out the door, giggling, both of you with handfuls of the cookies that his mother had spent hours making.
“This way,” you tell him, and the seven-year-old boy nodded, following you without any further questions. Just like you did him.
Pushing aside a broken board in a fence, you and him slipped through into an abandoned looking backyard. On the other end of the yard, there was an old wooden shed and exactly where you were leading him. The once fresh and crisp wood now weathered from age and the elements; the door barely held onto its hinges, and a window that had several cracks in it.
Your hidden oasis. Yours and Jeonghan's little hide out.
Inside the old building, cobwebs covered corners of the walls. There was an old lawnmower that was rusted and abandoned to time and a built-in table to one side that was already filled with other snacks and drinks you both swiped from each other’s home. There were also two small sleeping bags laid out to be able to sit on the ground without getting your bottoms dirty.
“I can’t believe she fell for that,” Jeonghan giggled, setting his share of the cookies onto a broken plastic plate, one your grandmother threw away and you dug out of the trash to use in your ‘hide out’.
“I told you, she would. She’s like my grandma when she is baking.” You tell him with ease. Your seven-year-old confidence was admirable, your share joining his on the plate, except for one that you were going to eat. Taking a bite of the soft warm cookie, you continued to talk with your mouth full, “It was all a matter of striking at the right moment. You know this, Hanni.”
“She is going to be so mad at me when I get home,” He chuckled, his own mouth now full of cookies. You roll your eyes, reaching up from your place on the ground to grab two juice boxes, because you knew Jeonghan’s mom wasn’t going to be that mad. Not like your grandma would be at least. “She will be!”
“She never stays mad at you,” You quipped, dropping your cookie to cross your arms, a pout already forming. “You hardly ever get in trouble.”
“That’s not true!” Jeonghan shot back, copying you exactly, but stuck his tongue out in the process. “You don’t know how often I get in trouble. Especially because of you!”
“I don’t tell you to join in! I suggest!” You could feel your body growing hot with annoyance, dropping your arms with your fists now clenched. “You are the one who gets me in trouble all the time!”
“Yes, you do! You pulled my hair the last time I didn’t go with one of your plans!” Jeonghan snapped, and you gasped like he had just insulted your entire doll collection. Then you hit his arm, and his face darkened. “See! You hit me if I don’t agree with you!”
“You pushed me in the mud the last time I disagreed with you!” You countered, your young voices rising as you both did, getting into each other’s faces. “And I was grounded for a week after that too! I couldn’t watch TV because of you!”
Somehow this turned into a little squabble, where you and Jeonghan grabbed each other. Your hand was in his short dark hair, while he was trying to swat you off, crying out to let him go. In the middle of it, one of your feet kicked the plate that held your stolen cookies, breaking the plastic further and the baked treats were now being trampled by your feet.
“Look what you did!” Jeonghan yelled, pointing to the cookies when he finally was able to get your hand out of his hair while you stood there. Your face contorted into anger, and more offense that he would blame you when he was being the mean one.
“I didn’t just do that! You did too!” You retorted, and the young boy rolled his eyes. “Our cookies are ruined! And so is our little spot! You need to clean that up!”
“No, you!”
“You!”
In the end, the two of you ended up sitting on opposite ends of the sleeping bags. Arms crossed, backs facing each other, while the broken cookies and plate rested between you both. The silence was loud as you both refused to be the one to speak first, both of you too stubborn to break first.
In the end it was Jeonghan who broke the silence, standing to grab another juice box for you both and a packet of candies that you liked from the table. A peace offering in a way. You shot him a look, your eyes dropping to the candies and juice box before up to his face. His gaze was softer, with an apologetic expression on his face.
“Sorry,” He mumbled, and you tried to keep up being mad, but the way his bottom lip jutted out as he apologized made it hard. Instead, you reached out and took the offerings, and he sat down next to you.
“Sorry too...” You mumbled, sharing the candies with him before cleaning up the broken plate and ruined cookies.
*Thirteen years ago*
“Oh my god, Jeonghan, stop hogging the joint!” You whined, reaching for the rolled up paper that had your weed in it, but Jeonghan seemed to be trying to smoke it all to himself.
“Give me. Remember its puff puff give. I only did one puff.” He retorted, holding the joint just out of your reach so you were practically falling into the eighteen-year-old boy.
“Bullshit! That was more than one; hell it was more than two! It was like three!” You argued back, your arm still outstretched to grab the joint from him, “Yoon Jeonghan, if you don’t give me that joint now, I am beating your bitch ass up.”
“Please like you can take me,” Jeonghan laughed, attempting to put the burning joint back to his lips, his other arm trying to push you back while you fought to grab it from him.
You both were back at the shed again, the same old structure still holding out even after all these years, but things were different. The old lawnmower was now gone and sitting next to the it, collecting more rust and cobwebs in its new home, the webs in the corners no longer there, and the sleeping bags had changed to an old loveseat that one of your friends found. The juice boxes and snacks that were once on the table were replaced with a pizza box, a half empty bottle of Jeonghan’s dad stolen whiskey, a baggy of cheap weed, and some rolling papers.
And the two seven-year-olds who would hide away in it with stolen snacks, or other things to entertain were now eighteen. Freshly graduated from high school, stuck in that limbo stage where you both weren’t quite adults but not quite children anymore, and preparing for the next steps in your life. You were going off to a school abroad while Jeonghan was staying back in your hometown, choosing to go to a local college first.
“God, you’re so annoying,” You pouted, practically pushing him back and sitting on his stomach to grab the joint, but laughter was filtering out of you before you could stop it. Bringing laughter from the pinned man below you, a lazy smirk played over his lips like he was meant to win this no matter what. “Jeonghan, you’re going to smoke it all!”
“Then I will buy you more!” He argued, and you slapped his chest. Grabbing your wrist before you could hit him again, Jeonghan’s grip held you there as he lifted the joint to your lips. Like instinct, you took a deep inhale, letting the harsh herb fill your lungs and altering your non-sober state more. You try to free yourself from him, so you can smoke it how you wanted, but he wouldn’t let you.
Pulling back finally, you blew the smoke from your lungs into the air, and it was then that Jeonghan let you go, only to be smacked in the chest once more before you slipped off him and back to your seat next to him. Your leg tucked under you, your bare skin pressing into the old wood by your weight, but you ignored any possible splinters that may come from it.
“You suck, you know that?” You tell him, and this earned another chuckle from him.
“And you blow. We’re both whores here.” Jeonghan teased, placing the joint between his lips to rest his arms behind his head. Each breath inhaled the smoke from nearly finished joint into his lungs. His long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, but there were several strands that fell loose around his face.
His old Sublime shirt torn in a different place and showed off his stomach from the way he was laying, skinny jeans, and a gold chain with angel wings that was once yours laying against his throat. Skin glowing from the setting sun and the lantern behind you both, making him look ethereal.
You envied how beautiful your best friend was.
“Give me that,” You quipped, taking the chance to swipe the joint from him. A triumphant smile was playing over your lips before you realized that it was nearly gone. “You asshole, you smoked most of this.”
“And you drank most of my whiskey. Call us even.” He answered dismissively, closing his eyes briefly.
“Whatever,” you told him, taking whatever hit you can of the joint before putting it out, smashing it hard against the wood. Silence followed, the two of you sitting at the doorway of the shed, your eyes scanning the overgrown yard and the half burnt down house just feet from you.
It’d been like that for years, with no one coming to do anything about the destroyed home or the property it stood on, making it a haven for you and Jeonghan growing up, and a place of many things. Your first kiss with a boy that smelled like he used a whole can of body spray to cover that he hadn’t bathed, Jeonghan’s first kiss with a girl who tried to fight you over him.
You spent nights in the shed to avoid your grandparents and their old fashion but offensive words, many with Jeonghan right next to you. Refusing to leave you while you refused to crash at his place, because you knew his mom would call your grandparents. You got high and drunk for the first time with him next to you, and blasted music through a shitty speaker that neither of you could explain the origin of.
Hell, you two used it as a place to hide once when you had the cops called on you for stealing. You don’t think either of you had ever been so scared thinking you were caught, but it didn’t stop you because the thrill left you both laughing until your stomach hurts.
You laughed, cried, and felt every emotion you could think of in this shed, with Jeonghan beside you. In a week's time, you will be on a plane to a new country with a family friend willing to house you during your studies, and away from your home. Away from your life, away from the little shed. Away from the comforting blanket of your hometown.
Away from Jeonghan.
“You’re thinking too loud again,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, turning your gaze toward your best friend. He was still laying back; arms folded behind his head as a pillow and prop, with his eyes on you. A small sad smile played on his lips, because he knew what you were thinking about too. “Talk to me, bug.”
"You're a bug. I should squish you," You answer back, matching his smile as you watched him let our a breathy laugh.
“I would like to see you try. You couldn’t even get the joint from me.” He then lifts his leg to nudge you with his knee. “Now, talk to me.”
“It’s stupid.”
“I mean, yeah your face is, but it’s at least pretty while being it.” He offered and you slapped his knee. He then sat up, giving you the famous lazy Jeonghan smirk you grew up seeing, but you could tell it was only a front.
“Just… growing up.” You told him, gesturing between the two of you, “We’re no longer kids anymore…”
“Debatable.” He murmured while you spoke.
“…we graduated high school and are preparing to be thrusted into the real world. We’re having to finally grow up and face life. I’m…” The words failed you then, and in its place was a soft choking sound. A sob that wanted to burst through, but you managed to swallow it back while blinking the sudden tears that wanted to fall. Jeonghan could see it all as he nodded. “I’m leaving… leaving everything I know…” This time your voice cracked, “Leaving you.”
“Please, the moment you agreed to marry me on the playground at five you were stuck with me.” Jeonghan answered, doing what he did best, trying to make light of something instead of showing what he’s really feeling. And you hated that it would work more times than it didn’t. “Just… there is going to be some distance between us. It’s not like I’m not a phone call or message away, and we’ll see each other again. This isn’t a final thing.”
“It feels like it is.” This comment made him tsk at you.
“It doesn’t to me.” He shook his head, watching through broken windows as a car passed by. The driver wouldn’t even know you were sharing one of the last times together before life took hold of you. One of the last times you would be free like this, this age, in the moment, and with the only person, besides your grandparents, who stuck by your side.
Someone you grew up with, someone you got into trouble with, someone who never was fake with you. Someone you saw every day and spent most of it with. Your best friend.
“It doesn’t?”
“Of course not. How could it be when we are still so young?” He asked simply and you could only listen to him, “It’s also not like you are leaving for good. Your grandparents are still here; your friends are here… I am here.”
“But what if our lives don’t allow room for each other anymore?” This earned another tsk, as well as an offending sounding laugh. Hurt flashed across his eyes before he looked away, like it was preposterous to even say something like that.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ll always have room for you in my life.” He said curtly, and you dropped your shoulders while making an over exasperated sigh. That wasn’t what you meant.
“Ugh, Hanni, I don’t mean it like that.” He turns his attention back to you, before flashing it toward the whiskey bottle. “I mean... what if even when I come home… we don’t have time for each other? We don’t get to see each other. You’re going to be working, going to school, and eventually you’re going to fall in love and have a partner. Same for me too.”
“I’m not sure how that sounds any different than your previous statement,” Jeonghan mumbled this, pushing his lip out in a pout. Reaching out, he caught a tear falling with his thumb, only to yank his hand away and shake it like he touched lava. This did what he wanted it to, which was to laugh.
“Hanni…”
“It’s okay. I forgive you for hurting my feelings. This is a hard time for us both,” There was so much honesty to his words, it was also written all over his face. He was trying to not think about the inevitable, which was you were leaving. Not the forever he had declared, but it was still hard. “It’s not just you losing something, I’m losing my best friend. My partner in crime. Who am I going to get into mischief with? Joshua?”
“I mean… at least he’ll keep you from getting arrested.”
“If he’s not too busy fucking anything that will let him.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes, “But I’m serious. You’re not the only one who loses something in this. Except I’m not accepting that this is it, because it’s not.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Of course I do, I’m Yoon fucking Jeonghan. I can bend the will of others with a flick of my wrist, and this will bend to my will.” You still don’t look convinced, and he clicks his tongue before speaking again, “How about this? If life takes us on different paths that separate us further, then the year we turn thirty-one, we meet again. You and me… and any husbands, wives, fiancés, life partners or children we may have. Somewhere nice, somewhere where our busy lives can’t touch us. Where we can catch up, and remember that it’s always been us, and it will always be us.”
“Really?”
“Yes, now ask me what will happen if life doesn’t do that.” He smirks, and you giggle.
“What will happen if life doesn’t?”
“Then we do it still!” He announced throwing his arms up, before one found its way over your shoulder. “No matter what, no matter where life takes us, we meet the year we turn thirty-one.”
“Why thirty-one though?”
“Because it’s too cliché to meet when we turn thirty. Goodness, this isn’t one of those romance movies you make me watch.” He gave you a brief squeeze before getting up to grab the whiskey bottle. “So, what you say?”
“I can easily argue that the last three romances we watched was because of you, not me.” Jeonghan sat back down next to you, the bottle in his hand, but it remained unopen. His attention was on you, his eyes watching you as you try to find the words. Every part of him told you that he was serious about this, and it helped ease an ache that was building in you. “And let’s do it.”
“Perfect. Now let’s drink to the future.”
A week later, you were clinging to him at the airport as your grandfather got your luggage together. This time tears weren’t holding back, Jeonghan wasn’t able to say anything to help because he was busy fighting his own. Instead, he just held you as you gripped at the offensive SpongeBob shirt he was wearing, soaking it with not just your tears, but the mascara and eyeliner you had thickly drawn on. Only to have it cried away telling your best friend goodbye for now.
“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice was soft when he pulled back, making you look at him. His eyes were shining, and red. Evidence that he’d been crying, though you knew he’d insist he’s actually high, and it nearly broke you. “Remember what I said. The year we turn thirty-one.”
You nodded, and he gives you a soft smile.
“I’ll send you the details, so make sure you have the entire year free.” He teased and you let out a soft laugh before jumping from him, pinching you. You break away from his grasp to hit his shoulder. This earned a soft laugh from you, your eyes dropping to the angel wing necklace that still rested around his neck.
“I’ll be sure to have all my information changed by then.” You laughed, and he pinched your side again. Your name then came from behind you both, your grandparents calling to you. It was time to go. Looking back at Jeonghan, you gave him a watery smile, “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too,” This was the first time his voice finally cracked, and a tear started to fall. It was real. It was happening.
“I’ll text you when I land.”
“You better.” He teased. “I will see you again.”
“See you again.”
**A year ago**
Your phone chimed right as you were cooking dinner, cutting off the music playing briefly, but you weren’t able to stop what you were doing to look. Too focused on making sure that you didn’t burn anything, but the couple that was in the kitchen with you noticed.
“Need me to check that?” You heard Celeste ask, and you looked over your shoulder, to her and Soonyoung grabbing the plates and cutlery for the table.
“No, it’s okay. I can check it later,” You waved her off, “Dinners ready, and we have a proposal to go over.”
“I thought there was no work talk at dinner?” Soonyoung teased, making you shoot your friend and co-owner a look, only to earn a playful wink back. He then turned to his fiancé with a smile, “If we’re working while we eat, you might as well open two bottles. One for us and one just for her.”
“Watch it Kwon, or I’ll run this company with Celeste instead” You warned him, grateful that Celeste was already stepping in to grab his collar to drag him out of the kitchen with everything to arrange at the table.
Twenty minutes later, the three of you were sitting around the table, two wine bottles open with one in front of you and one between the couple. You all were talking animatedly about the proposal that you and Soonyoung were putting together, hoping that the potential investor takes on your ideas and help launch your small business globally. Soonyoung had been right to have your own bottle open; it helped ease the tension that was building in your shoulders over all this, and there were more laughs than not.
“I think we should add some tiger imagery to the presentation; you think we can do that?” Soonyoung suggested a wine glass coming up to his lips, only for it to be stopped by his fiancé. He looks at her with confusion as she only shook her head. Celeste supported his love for tigers, but even she knew when to draw the line.
“I should hire you as our creative director,” You joked, tipping your own wine glass in her direction. “You can save me from a lot of tiger themed merchandise and advertising.”
“I love you, but if I took that, I probably would be canceling the wedding instead of planning a honeymoon,” Celeste laughed, and Soonyoung looked offended. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I know how you are when you’re working. We met at work, remember?”
“Of course, I do. I barely was able to focus at meetings because all I wanted to do was look at you,” You actively rolled your eyes as the couple stared at each other like they hung the sun and the moon for each other, and it reminded you just how single you have been for the last few years. Happily single, but not when you were around these two being so sickeningly in love.
“Gag me.” You muttered making the two look at you. Celeste playfully stuck her tongue at you, and Soonyoung pretended to growl. That was when you knew that you had lost them both to being lovey toward each other. You took this chance to check your phone, remembering it had gone off while you were cooking.
It was a message. From Jeonghan.
Your eyes widened as your fingers tightened around the stem of your glass, or you were going to drop it onto the table and spill wine all over the place. Casting your eyes up, you were relieved to see your two friends were still too busy staring at each other to notice your reaction.
You and him hadn’t really spoken in nearly six years, not since you came home for your grandfather’s funeral. Of course, you would wish each other a happy birthday, send the occasional meme, or a quick hello, but other than that, you barely spoke. You didn’t want to admit that it was hard for you to respond because it made you want to go back to being that eighteen-year-old again.
But you knew what this was about. You had turned thirty recently, and his thirtieth was a few months away, which meant that the promise the two of you had made at eighteen, smoking and drinking in that abandoned shed, was also coming due. And he was reaching out to solidify the plans.
You should’ve waited to read and respond after your friends left, when you had time to yourself, but you didn’t. Clicking the notification, you unlocked the phone to read the message. Only to find it was confirmation for your plane tickets, and a set of dates. The first week of April next year, and for a week.
Back home. Where you hadn’t stepped foot in nearly six years.
A few more messages had followed.
Jeonghan: Told you to keep your schedule open.
Jeonghan: See you in April, bug.
**two days before**
You might’ve been overthinking it. No, you were overthinking this as you stared at an empty suitcase, piles of clothes folded around it on your bed, bags of new clothes at the foot of the bed, and your toiletries all laid out on your bathroom counter. All waiting to be packed.
None of your clothes had felt right, the makeup you chose to bring felt too plain, and your nerves were starting to suffocate you. A part of you felt like you shouldn’t feel this nervous, because it was just Jeonghan, but another part felt you were justified because it was Jeonghan. You hadn’t seen him in person since your grandfather’s funeral, only ever seeing his life through photos that he posted online.
Picture of him traveling with Joshua, and with your other friends, and relationships that never seemed to last a few months before the person disappeared from his photos. You watched his success in becoming a pharmacist like he had always wanted and was making a life for himself. He owned his own home, and he appeared happy with his life.
You had done the same, but away from him. You made a life where you now were, and selfishly barely looked back; especially after your grandfather had passed. You made friends where you were, had relationships, started a business with Soonyoung, and you made a life for yourself. You had become a different person, like he had.
This fact wasn’t the only thing that had your nerves starting to settle uneasy in your gut. You were both different, and what if that difference was so great that neither of you could enjoy your time together again. Uncomfortable strangers the entire week instead of old friends looking to reconnect.Not only that, but what if also being back home made it worse? That being there was more painful than it should be, and it made you resent your oldest friend for bringing you back?
Then your phone chimed, with a message coming through.
Jeonghan: See you when you land.
Jeonghan: And stop overthinking things. I can hear your thoughts all the way over here. Haha.
That made you burst out in a laugh, because of course this silly line he used to say to you growing up would help loosen some tightness in you. It didn’t settle your nerves though, it only unraveled them, so they weren’t making you want to throw up and cry at the same time.
You responded.
You: Too late, so deal with it.
His response was instantaneous.
Jeonghan: Gladly.
**April**
You swore this entire journey had been one big April Fool’s joke with the way everything had gone wrong. You managed to finally pack everything, though you still weren’t happy with your choices you couldn’t just go naked, but you overslept the morning of your flight. The ride you had ordered was canceled at the last minute, making you late to the airport and nearly missed boarding.
Checking in had been a nightmare, and then there was a delay taking off.
When the plane did finally set off, you thought you would be in the clear for now. It would be smooth flying after this, and the bad luck got itself out of the way now than following you the entire trip. You hoped that the long flight will go well and give you a chance to rest, or Jeonghan was going to see you have an absolute crash out over it all.
You managed to get enough sleep, so you weren’t as cranky when you landed, but it left you feeling stiff. You even tried to stretch some before unboarding, but it and the awkward shuffling didn’t help. Gripping at your carryon, your focus was to get your suitcase and out of the airport. There’s a bed somewhere calling to you, and you were ready to meet the call.
With your suitcase now secured, you checked your phone to see if Jeonghan was there yet after insisting on picking you up instead of ordering a ride. Except when you looked around the semi-crowded airport, you didn’t see him anywhere. There was no sight of the famous Jeonghan smirk, no sign being dramatically held up with your name, or anything like that.
Your phone started to ring in your hands.
“Where are you?” You answered, pressing the device to your ear and skipping any and all pleasantries. This earned a chuckle on the other side, and your eyes immediately narrowed. Even with the time apart, you knew never to trust that chuckle.
“About that…” He started slowly, showing you were right not to trust it. There was no way he was going to try and fuck with you, but you should’ve known better, “I am running late, car troubles, won’t be there for a few hours. You’re going to have to wait until I get there.”
“Yoon Jeonghan…” You took in a slow breath, trying to fight the annoyance that was bubbling under the surface. No, he wasn’t going to do this to you after the trip you’ve just had, “You better not be fucking with me right now.”
“I wish, I could say I was,” There was a sigh to his voice, but before you could let him have it, he continued, “I am very sorry, bug. I wish I was there to see you right now. With your hair an absolute mess, your sweater falling off you, and the way you are pouting right now. It’s so cute.”
“Huh?” You blinked, looking down at your body. Your sweater had fallen from your shoulders and was resting right at your elbows while strands of your hair escaped the loose ponytail you had put up. How the hell did he know if he wasn’t there? Before you could question it, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. Twisting around, Jeonghan was standing there.
The phone still pressed to his ear, eyes shining with excitement and mischief, and that smirk that you once knew oh so well. His hair was shorter than the last time you seen him with it back to his natural dark brown. He was in a simple black t-shirt with a matching jacket and a pair of white pants, and you couldn’t stop the way your heart skipped at the sight of him.
“April Fool’s. Forgive me?” He teased, barely able to hang up the call before you were throwing your arms around his neck for a hug. The force of you jumping into him made Jeonghan stumble back slightly, but once he was able to catch his footing, his arms wrapped around your waist.
He pulled you so close your body was pressed against his like he had been desperate for this moment, but you were no better. Nuzzling your nose into his shirt, taking in the scent of his perfume and the way he held you tight. His own nose pressed to your hair, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume and shampoo, fingers flexing and squeezing gently at your sides.
Both of you forgot that you were still in the middle of the airport.
“You asshole!” You finally bursted out when the two of you parted, slapping his arm while he laughed at you attempting to scold him. He saw the smile forming over your lips, making the smirk he was wearing turn into a genuine smile. One that nearly stole the very breath from you, “That wasn’t funny.”
“It was a little funny.” He still hadn’t let go of you, his hands resting on your hips like they always belonged there, his gaze drinking you in. Then he stepped back, withdrawing his hold on you to reach for your suitcase handle, “Now, let’s get out of here before you shove me into the cargo hold of one of these planes.”
“You would deserve it,” You retorted earning an eye roll from him. One hand placed firmly against the small of your back, and the other pulling your suitcase behind you. With cool precision, Jeonghan directed you out of the airport while chatting with you about his day and asking you about your flight.
Like it was all part of a daily conversation you would always have, and there was no time between your last full conversation that wasn’t in text.
“After you,” Jeonghan announced, making sure to open the passenger door for you while providing an overexaggerated bow that made you playfully swat his shoulder. A giggle escaped you as you got into the car, while he finished putting your suitcase in the back. Settling into the driver’s seat, he flashed you a lazy smile and you missed the way his hand twitched slightly to reach for yours. Instead he put the car into drive. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You know, you never told me where I was staying.” You told him, your eyes watching the way the town looked now. Businesses that were once there on the main street gone, replaced with franchise stores and popular food spots. Places that you once occupied with your friends or grandparents gone, showing that the town was growing and changing like you had.
It didn’t feel like your old home, but there was still something about it that told you it was. Just with a different look.
“Easy. With me.” He said with no hesitation, making you look at him. He had a pair of black sunglasses on, leaning back against the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel while the other rested on his lap. Looking relaxed as he drove through the familiar streets. Stopping at a light, he cast a glance your way and you weren’t sure, but you thought that his relaxed smile faltered slightly. “Rather get a room? The old motel is still open, but you might have to cuddle with some roaches and a few rats.”
“I think I am good on that,” You don’t hide your look of disgust, and this made Jeonghan start laughing as the light turned. “I would like the bed I sleep on be free of other occupants.”
“Is that so?” He muttered, his focus on the road letting silence fall over you. The radio was playing quietly, and you started to notice the familiar names of the streets.
They were the same names you would see every day growing up, the same streets you used to run around growing up. You chance a glance toward Jeonghan, only to find his focus on the road but the look on his face told you that he was waiting for your reaction.
Especially once he turned on the familiar street that the two of you grew up on.
“I knew you moved close to family, but I didn’t know you…” The words stopped in your throat when you pulled up to a beautiful home. It looked newer compared to the others on the street. White with grey trimming and a neatly cut yard with a stone pathway that lead right up to a small porch with a planter next to the door.
It was beautiful and unfamiliar, but you knew this property. It didn’t matter how long it had been since you came back; you knew exactly where you were.
“Come on, bug. Let’s get inside.” Jeonghan didn’t give you a chance to process your thoughts before he was shutting off the engine and unbuckle both of your belts. He was out of the car, leaving you there staring at the empty seat that he had once occupied.
It was the sound of the trunk closing that you were able to kick start back up and rushed to get out the car to follow him up the small pathway to the front door. Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes wide staring at the home and Jeonghan’s back.
Once inside, you didn’t stop to look around the home, instead your feet took you from the front door, through the open living room to a set of glass doors. If Jeonghan had said something to you, you didn’t hear it because your focus was getting to the backyard. You barely looked around the yard itself, just that it was well taken care of.
No, your focus was on the shed that was in the same familiar place. You could feel tears starting to burn your eyes, memories flooding back to you, your eyes flicking over to the fence that once had a broken board. It was fixed with forsythias and azaleas flourishing in front of it, but you could still see a young Jeonghan popping through it while you waited for him at the shed.
“It’s not the same one.” Jeonghan said softly behind you, but you didn’t look back, not wanting him to see a few tears fall. “The old owners finally sold the property four years ago to a realtor company. They rebuilt the house and tore down it before putting the place back on the market.”
“And you bought it.” You responded, finally looking at him. He had his hands in his pants pockets, balancing on the balls on his feet, while his eyes were on you, catching more tears starting to fall.
“Yeah, well, with the help from my parents. With conditions obviously,” Jeonghan continued, keeping his attention on you, “Moment I moved in, I had the shed put back in. It’s used to actually store shit, not a hang out like we used to have it, but just something didn’t feel right without it there.”
“What was the conditions?” You asked in a small voice, trying to wipe away the wetness from your face, when Jeonghan caught your elbow. Pulling you into a hug, he let out a soft tsk.
“Let’s not worry about that right now.” It was a clear deflection, but he wouldn’t let you wiggle away from him to call him out. Then his hands found its way to your sides and started to tickle you.
“Jeonghan!” You let out a small squeal, giggling while trying to get away from him. His own laughter mixed through yours in a sweet melody, helping you forget your tears.
“Come on, let me show you to your room.” His arm thrown lazily over your shoulder, directing you back toward the house. “And no roaches or rats to cuddle with.”
Jeonghan gave you a brief tour of his home, a kitchen and living room open floor style. Three bedrooms, the larger one with an ensuite on one side, while the two smaller ones with a Jack n Jill style on the other. Your room faced the yard, giving you perfect view of the shed, while Jeonghan had the larger room.
He left you to unpack and get cleaned up from your travels. The shower felt good, hot water helping you loosen the still sore muscles from your long flight and fight off the fatigue that you didn’t know was creeping up on you. By the time you had gotten out, your skin felt flushed from the heat with your hands and feet slightly wrinkled. The towel Jeonghan had left out was dark grey, soft and fluffy and felt like heaven against your skin.
It felt good to be out of your airport clothes and in a soft pair of leggings and oversized t-shirt. Your hair was still slightly damp, so you left it loose around your bare face Now that you were back around Jeonghan, the nerves you were feeling all but melted away and didn’t feel like you needed to look all done up just to lounge around the house.
“Hope you’re hungry.” He announced proudly when you finally emerged, setting two beer bottles on the table with a spread of take out. He wasn’t looking your way. “You took so long I managed to make us a feast.”
“Make us a feast huh?” You laughed, crossing your arms as you take in the sight before you. “Wanted to make sure it was authentically homemade by including the plastic containers?”
“I mean, only the best for…” His words died on his tongue as he went to look at you, his hand slowly dropping to his side. There was a flicker of awe and desire that went across his face before he shook his head, and it was replaced with a smirk. “…you...”
“I feel so honored,” You went to pull out of the chairs to sit, but Jeonghan had beat you to it by pulling it out for you instead, before taking a seat next to you, focusing on the containers. Grabbing both beers, you popped them open with ease and set them down in front of you both.
Dinner consisted of the two of you stuffing your faces, battling over the last pieces of meat, which he won by cheating at rock, paper, scissors. You drank several beers between you each while talking about work, friends, family, and life. You told him about meeting Celeste in college then later Soonyoung through her, the jewelry business that you and him thought up after too many bottles of wine, how it actually was doing well, and the couple’s upcoming wedding.
While Jeonghan told you about college, the trouble him and their friends got into, updated you on his parents and sister, and about the pharmacy he works at with Joshua. You laughed over stories, and it felt like no time had passed between you.
“What about relationships?” Jeonghan asked, leaning back in his chair with a beer close to his lips, watching the way you swirled your beer around in the bottle. “Anyone special?”
“Just a vibrator named Owini with two I’s.” This made Jeonghan raise a brow as he took a sip. “O.W.I.N.I. Orgasm when I need it.”
“Clever.” He coughed out after nearly choking on his beer, laughing at the name.
“What about you? Anyone in your life?” It was your turn to watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. Jeonghan was leaning back against the chair, looking forward with a half-smile playing over his lips.
“No one special. At least not for a long time.” He answered finally, finishing his beer with a smack to his lips. Licking them, he sat the beer down onto the table before standing and stretched. He ignores the confused expression on your face with his sudden movements, “Let’s get this all cleaned up bug and have a few more beers. Maybe watch a movie or something.”
You nod your head slowly, following suit to help throw away the empty containers and put away anything that you two didn’t finish. When you were done, Jeonghan grabbed a few more beers from the fridge and met you at the sofa to find something to watch. Picking some random movie that you couldn’t remember the name, both of you talked and laughed until all the beers were empty and Jeonghan was half asleep on the sofa.
**Day 2**
“Oh, it is so good to see you sweetie!” Jeonghan’s mother wouldn’t let go of you, hugging you tightly as if you were going to disappear on her if she did. The next day the two of you had gone to his parents’ for lunch on his mother’s insistence, “I missed you, my dear.”
“I missed you too,” You answered, giving Jeonghan a ‘save me’ look when she didn’t let go, only for him he didn’t come to save you, instead just watched with mild amusement from his place against the kitchen counter. Releasing you from the hug, she grasped your shoulders to look at you, making you turn your gaze back to her.
“You should not stay away so long,” She scolded, leaning forward like she was revealing a secret, “Our Hanni has not been the same since the last time you left.”
“Oh…” You let out a nervous laugh, looking back toward Jeonghan with a questioning gaze, but he was no longer looking at you. Instead, he was staring warning daggers into his mother’s back. It reminded you how he wouldn’t look at you the previous night either, but before you could say anything further, you were being lead to a table full of food.
“Sit, sit. I hope you are hungry, I made all of your favorites.” You were then gently pushed into a seat, with Jeonghan following and took a seat next to you, “Oh goodness, I forgot drinks. Let me grab those.”
“I told her not to do all this, but she insisted,” Jeonghan had muttered so only you could hear.
“I believe it,” You responded back, leaning toward him with a raised brow, “What did she mean by you haven’t been the same?”
“Nothing, just missed my best friend is all,” He answered simply. For a brief moment you thought his gaze dropped to your lips before he looked away to speak with his mother. Changing the subject all together as well.
The rest of the visit had consisted of more catching up, with Jeonghan’s father and sister coming by to join in, but you were barely able to pay attention. You couldn’t stop looking over toward Jeonghan, feeling that there was something more than ‘he just missed his best friend’. Like true Jeonghan fashion, he didn’t give anything away.
There was a possibility that you might be looking too much into it, reminding yourself that before you left for college, the two of you were with each other every day, and were inseparable. Hell, every time you came home, you and Jeonghan would always be together. Then after your grandfather passed away, you just… stopped coming back.
It wasn’t that you had wanted to stay away, it just was harder to come back now that both your grandparents were gone. It was hard to come back when you no longer would walk into the home you grew up to them, and life just kept getting into the way. Work ended up taking precedence since you and Soonyoung were focused on your jewelry company, finding the time off had grew harder, or whatever excuse you gave to make yourself feel better for not coming back.
You had known that it had affected Jeonghan, going from having his best friend every day to a few times a year to sparse messages and social media posts, but you didn’t think that meant ‘he hasn’t been the same’.
After leaving the Yoons’, you went with him to run a few errands that he’d needed to run, and the entire time you still had his mother’s words playing in your head. Which he noticed, but like him, you wouldn’t give anything away, giving the excuse you were just in a food coma.
“I don’t believe you, just so you know.” He told you, pushing up his sunglasses with one finger while his other hand rested on the steering wheel. Casting a glance toward you, he noticed that you were looking out the passenger window. “You can keep your secrets for now, but I will get them out of you. I always do.”
“I can say the same for you.” You chirped back, your eyes on the different buildings passing by, taking in the different buildings. Some familiar, some different. You could hear him let out a breathy laugh. “You have your secrets, and I have mine. If I have to spill so will you.”
“Touche, bug.”
Once back to Jeonghan’s, you disappeared into your room to answer some emails and make a few calls for work. You may have been on a trip, but that didn’t mean that you were truly on vacation, and the workload never ends. Soonyoung was a great business partner and assured you that he had it all handled so you can enjoy your time away (since you would be doing the same when he and Celeste went on their honeymoon), but you needed a bit of a distraction.
“You hungry?” Jeonghan had asked at one point, knocking at your door as he opened it. A smile playing over his lips seeing you sitting cross legged on your bed, laptop open in front of you. You had changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a baggy sweater, your hair pulled back out of your face (save for a strand that wouldn’t stay) and look of concentration on your face.
You didn’t hear the hitch in his breath when you looked up at him, that look of concentration melt away to a small smile as you shook your head.
“I’m still full from that feast your mom made us,” You answered with a laugh, looking back to the laptop and to the email you had been working on. “I’m almost done here, just need to send off a few more emails, and then call Soonyoung regarding a large order of smokey quartz for our Smokey collection. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“You do know the whole point of this trip was to also not worry about work?” Jeonghan teased, making his way to the bed and flopped down onto the empty space next to you. Rolling onto his side, he looked up at you with his dark round eyes, shining with mischief with his hand inching toward the laptop to shut. Which you reached out and took with yours, holding it as you placed it back onto the bed. Making him pout.
“I am almost done, I promise.” You told him, not expecting the sudden urge to lean forward to kiss the pout he was sporting, nor the way you were still holding his hand. Or that he had adjusted the hold so that your fingers were laced together.
“Well, when you’re done, I’ll be right here.” He responded, finally letting go of your hand to roll onto his back, pulling his phone out to scroll. You raised your brow at him, he didn’t even look your way when he added, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m lonely out there and you’re in here working.”
“Price to pay on owning your own business.”
Though you did manage to get some work done, you couldn’t really concentrate with Jeonghan lying next to you, now fast asleep with his phone resting face down on his chest. The soft clicking of your fingers against the keys had lulled him into a sleep and you found yourself watching him several times. Taking in the way he still looked like the boy you had grown up with, only older. Thick lashes kissing his skin, skin still smooth but with the hints of age coming through. The lips that were pouting at you earlier, soft and plush looking, partially open with a soft snore leaving him. He looked peaceful, he looked breathtaking, he looked like he was where he was meant to be. Next to you. Your Jeonghan.
Your heart fluttered at this notion, the words your Jeonghan felt different even in your head. Or was it always this way and you just ignored it since he was your best friend.
When you finished your emails and came time to call Soonyoung, you chose to take it outside to not disturb the sleeping man next to you. You also wanted to enjoy the evening weather, finding yourself sitting on the step of the shed to take your call and maybe clear your head some.
The shed wasn’t the same, but the memories were still there when you sat down on the newer wood. The years you and Jeonghan spent in the old rickety building that once stood there, doing things that looking back neither of you had any business doing as teenagers. Drinking, smoking, and everything else that came with being rebellious teens and too much freedom to do it all.
It shaped who you both were as adults, and still a part of who you were. Even if you tried to run away.
“There you are.” Jeonghan’s tired voice had pulled you from your thoughts and tore your gaze from a patch in the grass to him. His face slightly puffy from sleep, and a yawn escaping him as he made his way to you before flashing you a lazy half grin. “Was wondering where you went.”
“I had to call Soonyoung and you were snoring. I didn’t want to wake you or have him questioning if I was next to a walrus.” You teased, unable to stop the corners up your lips to twitch up, earning a chuckle from the slender man.
“So, kind of you.” He muttered reaching you, leaning against the wall of the shed. The sun had already dropped past the horizon, but there was still a glow to the yard, emphasizing the shadows and adding a hauntingly beautiful look to the spring evening. “Clocked out now?”
“I’m always clocked in.” This made him chuckle, before slipping into his pocket to pull out a lighter and a joint. With the rolled herb between his lips, he lit it with the lighter. Taking a deep inhale, you watched him blow the smoke out. Looking your way, he offered it.
“You still smoke?” He asked, and you looked at the joint then back to his face. A brow raised, “Vernon managed to find some for me. I haven’t smoked since the last time you were here…”
“I actually quit myself,” You told him reaching out to take the burning herb and took a hit of it. The paper was damp from his lips, and the smoke felt harsher than it had in the past, making you cough out the cloud of smoke instead of inhaling it. You managed to take another pull from it, filling your lung with the herbal smoke. Allowing the head change take effect.
A silence followed, just the two of you passing the joint between you. Leaning back, your eyes went up toward the sky to take in the darkening sky as the stars start to appear. While Jeonghan just watched you.
“What did you mom mean?” You asked softly, after a few minutes of feeling his gaze and the joint passing between you. Looking down at the nearly finished joint, now a roach at this point, flicking some ash handing off it. “How weren’t you the same?”
“Were you?” He returned your question with one of his own, reaching for what was left of the joint. You let out a scoff.
“Of course I wasn’t. I lost both my grandparents within a year of each other, had to watch my uncle stick that stupid for sale sign in the ground before the dirt settle so he could pay his debts…” You waved your hand in the air at nothing, before dropping it into your lap. Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you continued. “I was hurting, I was angry at my uncle, I felt like I had nothing here that was mine anymore, and I just wanted to run away.” You took a breath, closing your eyes to hold back the angry tears that were prickling behind them. Remembering that feeling ruined your high. “I left already not the same, but how were you?”
Jeonghan didn’t respond for a moment, the flick of the lighter making you look toward him to find that a second joint appeared and was lighting it. He took a quick inhale of the sweet herb, before handing it to you.
“You need this more than I do,” He muttered as you took it, making you tempted to throw it at him and tell him to go fuck himself, but you stopped yourself. He looked up toward the sky, crossing his arms and you took in how he looked. His baggy jeans, and a shirt that had enough room for the both of you, hair sticking up from sleeping in your bed, and a pair of wired glasses. Ones he had to of thrown on after waking up.
You were slow to take a hit of the herb, watching him carefully.
“You had me.” He finally said, not answering your question. It should’ve infuriated you and call him out if you didn’t look so confused. Licking his lips, he looked at you before repeating himself. “You had me here still. I thought I was home for you too.”
Maybe he was answering after all, in his own cryptic way.
“You were… you are…” You told him, before sighing, “I don’t regret how long I’ve been gone, but I do regret not keeping in touch better with you. I should’ve tried better for that.”
“Maybe, but you’re here now.” Jeonghan leaned forward and took the joint from you. “I plan to make sure you remember that you’re home with me.”
You watched as the joint pressed between his lips, the way his eyes closed slightly as he took a hit, unable to tear your gaze away. Slowly his eyes opened and you could see there was a sign of mischief there. Hiding away the vulnerableness that he’d been displaying. You watch the way his own gaze dropped to your lips then back to your eyes, blowing the smoke gently from the side of his mouth.
“Why do I feel like you are trying to make me fall in love with you?” You asked, meaning for it to be a tease but it came out breathier then you meant. Part of you thinking he might kiss you, but instead he let out a laugh, leaning back against the shed wall. Like nothing happened.
“Who knows, maybe I am.”
**Day 3**
To say you didn’t really do anything was a bit of an understatement. There has been no plans for the day, aside from the plans to meet friends later, so you just laid around. Collecting your energy for a night out drinking and spending time with old friends. Well, at this point they felt more like Jeonghan’s friends rather than your own, but he had insisted that wasn’t the case. That everyone missed you and were excited to see you again.
Jeonghan also continued on the day like the previous night didn’t happen, as if he didn’t look at you like he wanted to kiss you, or ‘joke’ about you falling in love with him. He just laid around with you, bugging you at random times about how bored he was, but wouldn’t get up to do anything. He would whine about how warm you were, but he seemed to scoot closer instead of away.
He would random poke you if you weren’t paying attention to him, complain about anything you turned on, but refused to choose anything. And the entire time used his pouty voice if you snapped at him.
“That’s it!” You growled out, grabbing the hand that attempted to pull a strand of hair falling into your face, distracting you so his other hand could tickle at your side. With his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your tank that had ridden up, making you jolt and grab that hand as well. Wrestling to get him to stop.
You’d forgotten that Jeonghan was a lot stronger than he looked, and could easily break your hold, but instead he was letting you think you were overpowering him. Filling the room with laugher, and in your wrestle, you found yourself straddling him.
Then you both froze, realizing how close you were. The tips of your noses brushing, both breathing heavy from the exertion, eyes locked with a new emotion coursing through you. Deeper than desire. Your hold then loosened on his wrists.
Now this wasn’t the first time you had ended up like this, you had many times in the past wrestling with each other. You’d done it since you were kids, with it always ending with you both laughing and unable to keep annoying the other.
This time…this time it was all different.
Your name fell from his lips before you were kissing him, which Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to return. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you closer until your chest was flushed against each other. A whimper left you at the desperation that flooded him, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, wanting more—which you willing gave him.
His lips felt like heaven against yours, and the way his tongue teased yours it left you needing more of him. More and more. Your fingers pushing through his soft strands, while his dug into your hips to pulling them down to grind on him. Feeling him already hardening underneath the soft grey fabric of his sweats, making you grow hot with need and dampen your underwear.
Then you broke from the kiss, staring at your best friend in shock while he stared at you with desperate need in his heavy lidded eyes. His bottom lip swollen from your kiss, hands still holding onto your hips like a vice, and his arousal pressing against you. With your own body ablaze with the same need right down to your core.
“I…” You scrambled off him to stand, “I… we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry… I… I need to get ready for tonight.”
Before Jeonghan could answer or stop you, you were already rushing to your room. Slamming the door behind you as you went, leaving him to stare at the space where you had been standing. Licking his lips, he slammed his fist onto the sofa cushion in frustration but stopped the frustrated groan that wanted to escape. Standing, he took off toward his room.
The ordered ride to the bar was an awkward one, with neither of you would speak or look at each other. You on one side of the backseat, playing with the pockets of your cargo pants before readjusting your tank and cardigan, the fabric not feeling like they fit right. While Jeonghan sat on the other side, looking out the window while his own hands were balled into fists on his lap.
The kiss hung between you, leaving you unsure how to approach it while Jeonghan was just unreadable. There’d been moments you thought he was angry with you, others he seemed frustrated, and then finally he appeared…sad. It ate at you, making it even harder to find the words.
The sound that erupted from the group when you entered the bar was almost deafening, and making others look your way. You were then showered with hugs, first by the girls and followed by Seungcheol, Vernon, and Joshua. Jeonghan had disappeared to the bar, leaving you to greet everyone.
“It’s been way to long,” Eunji couldn’t stop saying, hugging you for what felt like the nth time, “I thought you weren’t ever coming back.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just… needed to be away.” You answered, when she finally let go of you for good, but that was because her fiancé, Vernon, had pulled her back to his side.
“No need to explain to us. We understand.” It was Vernon who spoke up, a finger wrapped through a hoop of Eunji’s pants, keeping her in place. “What matters is that you’re back.”
“And me missing you all matters too, ya know?” You pointed out with a teasing smile, when a cold glass of beer was pushed into your hands, making you look up to see Jeonghan had rejoined the group. He didn’t look at you, instead moving to Seungcheol and Joshua, leaving the others to surround you. Looking down at the beer, you hoped that your friends didn’t pick up the tension between you. Which by the silence and looks everyone was giving each other, you knew better.
You could see the way Eunji was about to open her mouth, only for her fiancé’s hand conveniently found its place over it. Minnie, who had been waiting for her moment to give you a proper hug, gave you a questioning gaze, while Seungcheol, Joshua, and Joshua’s wife looked at Jeonghan.
“I see one thing hasn’t changed,” Minnie had murmured into your ear, taking the beer so she could get an actual hug from you, “We are going to be talking about this.”
As the night went on, the tension between you and Jeonghan had loosened with him eventually finding his way back to your side. Arm thrown over your shoulder, like he hadn’t been giving you the cold shoulder since running from him and the kiss you shared, as he talked and laughed with everyone. Poking, teasing, and smiling at you like you hadn’t just rejected him in one of the worst ways possible.
It had helped you relax outwardly, joining in with the talking, teasing, even leaning into him and his touch. It was easy to do, even with the tension burning between you, it was easy to lean into his warmth like he would you. Except inwardly, you had a war raging on. One that involved the very man you were leaning into.
“I’m going for a cigarette.” Minnie announced, lifting Seungcheol’s hand off her knee to stand, grabbing her designer bag in the process, “Who’s coming with me?”
“I will,” Eunji practically jumped out of her seat, looking around the table for anyone else, both of them stopping briefly on you and Lily, Joshua’s wife. Subtly hinting that you were to join them.
“I have to pass. I been trying to quit, and don’t want to be tempted, sorry.” Lily answered, sipping at the bright blue cocktail she had ordered.
“Never apologize for that. You got more will power than I do,” Minnie waved her hand, her eyes going back to you, “Anyone else?”
“I’ll go,” You announce, standing with Jeonghan’s arm falling from your shoulder as you did. Making him look at you with a confused expression, “Just need a bit of fresh air. I’ll be back.”
You barely make it out of the bar before you were being cornered by the two women.
“Okay, spill.” Eunji demanded as Minnie pulled out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing two and a lighter from the box. One for each woman.
“What are you talking about?” You attempted to feign ignorance, but it was clear the two didn’t buy it. The three of you were very close growing up, they witnessed how you and Jeonghan were, and still knew you better than you realized.
“Either one of three things is going on here. You two either have nothing to talk about, and it’s awkward as shit…” Minnie responded, placing the cigarette to her lips and lit it.
“Which is impossible with you two,” Eunji chimed in, taking the lighter from Minnie to light her own. “No matter how many years have passed.”
“You got into a stupid fight over something like the color of his socks, or…” Minnie walked closer, holding the cigarette out enough so the smoke wasn’t hitting your face, taking in how you crossed your arms and looked away. Leaning in, it felt like the last one was more of a secret, “Something happened between the two of you…”
“And you were the one to freak out.” Eunji finished for her, “And now it’s awkward.”
“Why would it be me?”
“Because it’s always you.” Vernon’s voice popped up behind you, causing the three of you to jump. He casually walks past you to Eunji, taking his cigarette in the process to take a drag, “I had a feeling they were doing that weird best friend gang up thing.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You answer, feeling your cheeks starting to burn.
“They kissed,” Vernon took another long drag of the nicotine stick, causing your jaw to drop opened, “Jeonghan told us in there.”
“Of course he did,” You muttered, watching the way Eunji and Minnie were ready to start jumping for joy.
“Finally?!” Eunji asked with excitement, but from the look on Vernon’s face, as well as yours, that Jeonghan didn’t stop there. Flicking the ash off the cigarette, the younger man took one more drag before handing it back to his fiancé.
“And that you freaked out and ran.”
“I didn’t run, I didn’t even leave the house.” You tried to defend yourself while your two friends excitement started to deflate.
“No, but you locked yourself in your room.” It was times like this that Vernon made you wonder how easy it was to get away with murder. Eunji will be able to find love again, she can move on, and you could disappear. Change your name, live in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere.
“Ugh,” Eunji let out a groan, dropping her head back and shoulders down in frustration. While Minnie could only stare at you, gaze unreadable as she pressed her cigarette to her lips, with one arm crossed her midsection.
“What?” You asked, your own frustration started to bubble over as it slowly started to occur to you that your friends knew something that you didn’t know. Something that Jeonghan clearly was aware of, but not you. Something about you and him. “I kissed him, yes. We were wrestling and it just happened, but it shouldn’t have. It just made things awkward and could just ruin our friendship.” You didn’t mention how much you wanted to do it again but couldn’t risk losing him for good. “What is with this ‘finally’ shit, anyways? Like shouldn’t you guys be worried that this could ruin our already fragile friendship.”
There was a silence as the three looked at each other. Like it dawned on them that you really didn’t know.
“You really don’t know?” It was Minnie who asked, taking another long drag as she moved her gaze to you again, followed by the couple behind her.
“Know what Min?” You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides, but there was something deep in you that told you that you already knew. Something that was sitting inside you for years, and you refused to acknowledge it, because it was easier than to face it.
There was a beat of silence between the four of them, with Eunji focused on her cigarette, Minnie watching you with an almost pitied look, and Vernon pushing his tongue into his cheek. Each of them waiting for the other to either come out with it, or for it to finally dawn on you. For you to finally see it.
“That he’s in love with you…” It was Vernon who said it, since neither of the girls spoke up, then his attention went to Minnie, “You think I can get my own smoke?”
You stood there in absolute silence while a pack of cigarettes exchanged hands, staring at your friends. It wasn’t that you had needed to process this, it wasn’t that at all. Instead, the words reached into your chest, into your heart and pulled out something you already known. Something he was trying to tell you, that he’s been trying to tell you.
“You guys are insane,” You finally spoke, looking away from them, pulling your cardigan around you when a cool breeze hit. “Jeonghan loves me, but he’s not in love with me.”
“Are you saying that to convince us, or convince yourself?” Minnie then asked, taking the pack back, her voice soft and understanding. You didn’t answer, still not looking at her, Vernon or Eunji, not trusting yourself to. “Did Jeonghan tell you what his parents condition was when they helped him buy that house?”
“No…” You had asked Jeonghan at least twice what this condition was, but he wouldn’t answer and would change the subject. Instead of pushing though, you just let him change it, so you didn’t have to actually hear it.
“The condition was that he settle downs like the rest of us,” She continued, and you could feel your mouth go dry, make your stomach churn uncomfortably. Unsure if it was from the alcohol, hearing all this, or both, “Or he would have to pay them back every penny.”
This made you look up to see her smiling at you, with it being as soft as her voice. Minnie flicked the ash off the near finished cigarette, your friends letting you take in what you were being told.
“What does that have to do with me, though?” You asked, feeling like you already knew the answer without it having to be said.
“Because.” Dropping the cigarette onto the ground, the taller woman hooked your arm with hers to walk back to the bar. Leaving Vernon and Eunji to finish their own smokes, “For him, the condition wasn’t just anyone, because to him, it only would be you.”
You’d barely made it back into the bar before Jeonghan had let out an overexaggerated yawn as he announced that he was going to order a ride home. This earned a chorus of groans from everyone, except for you. Your brain was already a buzz from the conversations outside, with the only thing you could do was stare at him. The bill of his hat pulled low, with it and his hair falling over his eyes. There was a deep frown playing over his lips, and body language reading that he no longer wanted to be there.
“You staying?” He asked you, making you blink out of your thoughts, already having his phone out to get a ride ordered. Several pairs of eyes turn to you, waiting for your response. Minnie had found her place back next to Seungcheol, leaning into her boyfriend, watching you with a knowing gaze.
Telling you to go with him.
“Nah, I’m getting tired myself.” You answered, letting out a chuckle, “I honestly am surprised I managed as long as I have. I’ve traded a night out at the bar with a bottle of wine at home, and most times in bed.”
Jeonghan nodded, already having the ride ordered, and the group advanced on you. Hugging you tightly, telling you to keep in touch, and to visit more often. With Minnie hugging you a little longer than everyone.
“Call me tomorrow, okay?” She whispered in your ear, “If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”
Neither of you said anything on the ride back to Jeonghan’s, but this time the silence felt different. It wasn’t tense like it was on the way to the bar, it had shifted after being out for a few hours to something that you had a hard time describing. His tired silence, leaning back in the seat with his eyes out the window, watching everything pass by. One hand resting against his head while the other rested between you both.
Beckoning you to take it.
Except you didn’t, with your own gaze looking out the car window as well. Vernon and Minnie’s words heavy in your head.
“He’s in love with you.”
“…because to him, it only would be you.”
“If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”
They left you with one of two choices by doing this. Finally face what was always between you and talk to Jeonghan, or you run away again. Get the earliest flight you can and leave before Jeonghan could wake up. Continue to run away. Destroy a lifelong friendship, one that you were meant to reconnect during your stay, because you were the coward.
You needed to make a choice. You needed to make one then.
“I’m going to head to bed, I am pretty tired,” Jeonghan announced once back, making sure the door was locked behind you before flicking his gaze to you. Taking you in, while he forced a smile to his lips and another beat of silence followed.
He was waiting for you to say something, anything. It was your chance, you either faced it or you ran away, but words failed you. They failed you in a way that never happened before with him, and it scared you.
“Goodnight, bug.” He whispered finally turning toward his room, nodding his head like he received his answer again. An answer to a question or a confession that he never said out loud.
It suddenly infuriated you.
“Are you in love with me?” You blurted out, causing Jeonghan to stop only a few steps away, watching the way his back straightened at the question. The accusation.
“Yes, I am.” He answered without hesitation, turning to look at you. That forced smile turning into a sardonic smirk when your eyes widened at how easy it was for him to say it, “I am in love with you.”
“For how long?”
“Does it matter?” The question as simple.
“Yes…no…just tell me.” You let out a frustrated sigh, shoulders dropping as you do.
“I’ve loved you since we were children, even when you would pull my hair,” He let out a chuckle, crossing his arms, “But realized I was in love with you when I had to watch you board that plane for school.”
“And why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it was easier to watch you go not knowing than if you did.” Jeonghan’s voice was low, the words stripping everything away that he hid behind, letting you see the raw side of him. And he still held eye contact with you.
“And the condition with your parents…”
“I had no intention fulfilling it if it wasn’t going to be you.” You noticed that he had started to close the distance that as originally there, pulling off his cap in the process so you could see his face better. Looking at you in a way he never had before, or that you noticed.
“Why?”
“Because no matter how I pictured my future, when it came to who I would spend my life with…” Jeonghan was now in front of you, close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. His hand ghosting over your cheek. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to move, you were scared to move, “It’s always you. It’s always been you.”
“Jeonghan…” His name came out in a whisper, tears starting to fall down your cheek and that was when you felt the coolness of his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb wiping away a few away. “You’re an asshole.”
A soft laugh left him, dropping his hand and taking a step back. Taking your comment as a rejection, but it wasn’t. It was far from it. You finally found a name to what that missing piece was when it came to Jeonghan. Your best friend, the boy who would be waiting for you in that run down shed every day, the teen who would get in trouble with you, the young man who let you go even though there was an ache in both your chests, and the man standing before you.
All these versions of him were one thing to you. Your Jeonghan.
“You’re an asshole for not telling me sooner…” You pouted, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt to stop him, refusing to look away from him. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face.
“Yeah?” Jeonghan countered back, inching closer to you, his eyes flicking to your mouth.
“Yeah.”
He then kissed you, heated and hungry, like something inside him snapped; unable to hold back any longer. He had a taste of you earlier, and now that he had you again, he couldn’t keep pretending. You returned the kiss with a fever, gripping at the sleeves of his shirt because if you didn’t, he’d disappear.
His hand finding their place at your hips, squeezing them when you deepened the kiss, greedy to taste him again like you had earlier. This time with the notes of beer still lingering, but you were sure you were just the same. Releasing the sleeves of his shirt, you traced them over your shoulders and up his neck, earning a low groan from him when you gripped at the soft strands of his hair.
Hearing this sound sent a wave of heat down your belly, right to your core, your thighs squeezing slightly and enough for Jeonghan to notice. Making him pull away from your lips, reluctantly since he attempted to dive back in to reclaim them, only to stop himself.
“You’ll need to stop me now, because I have no intentions on it.” He said softly, willing to step away if you didn’t want to. You laugh pushing him toward his bedroom, tripping over each other and pulling off clothes in the process. With your bra and top gone before you made it through his bedroom door.
His shirt following quickly after, giving way to a lean frame with smooth undefined muscles, but you could feel them under your touch. Your cargos off next, leaving you in a pair of grey lace underwear, and Jeonghan had twisted you so the he was the one guiding you to his bed. His mouth claiming yours right as you felt his bed hit the back of your knees, making you drop down onto it.
Looking up to see Jeonghan standing before you, his eyes roaming from your own down your body before returning to them. His expression one of disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were on his bed, half naked. And just for him.
“Hanni…” Anything you had to say was stopped by his kiss, more heated than any of the others you had shared.
Your hands and mouths touching and kissing anywhere and everywhere you could. His mouth teasing your breasts, sucking at the hardened peaks, while your hands ran over his body. Feeling his hardened cock over his pants before they too were gone. Followed by his boxers, and then your underwear.
“Fuck…your mouth is heaven,” He moaned out when you took his cock into your mouth, swallowing him down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him. With a few expert movements, Jeonghan had to pull back to stop from cumming down your throat and ending it all too soon. “We are going to have to revisit this later.”
“But…” Your words were swallowed up by his kiss, tongue claiming yours, pushing your back against the bed, his hips pushing your legs apart. Moaning at the feeling of his saliva slicked cock pressing against your own soaked cunt, rolling your hips up against his. Needing more of him.
When you felt two fingers tweak at one of your nipples, you roll him onto his back, straddling him. Grinding down onto him while one of your hands slip between you to grip his cock. With a gentle squeeze, Jeonghan broke from the kiss to drop his head back with a groan, moving both hands to your hips. The head of his cock catching at your entrance, making you both gasp.
Then you sank down onto him, a silent cry leaving you while Jeonghan’s eyes rolled at the way he stretched your gripping walls, until you were completely onto him. Only you didn’t stay there long, not giving either of you the chance to adjust before you were moving. Planting your hands onto the bed, you lift your hips off him, leaving only the head of his cock in you before dropping down.
Jeonghan’s hands gripped onto your hips, his eyes glazed over from arousal and the sight of you. Seeing parts of you that he only imagined, your bare breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips, your mouth falling open in pleasure, right down to where your two were now connected. The feeling of your walls squeezing and gripping at him was better than any late night thoughts could compare.
He knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he also didn’t want this to ever end. There was no way he could ever go back after this, he wouldn’t be able to go back to anything with you that didn’t involve this. Didn’t involve you being his.
“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, grinding down onto him to get more friction, feeling yourself winding tighter. The knot deep in your core threatening to snap. Then one of his hands slide from your hip to between your legs, pushing his finger up to tease your clit. “I’m close…”
“Do it, baby. Don’t hold back.” He tried to play it cool with a smirk, but he was just as much of a whimpering mess like you are. Looking up at you like you were the only thing that ever mattered. You were the only thing that ever mattered to him.
“Shit, Shit…” You chanted, every muscle tightening as you came, “I love you, I love you.”
Then you were on your back, Jeonghan rolling you over without pulling out, taking over for you. Fucking into you with a vigor you never experienced from him.
“I love you…” He whispered into your mouth, cupping your face, his own release following quickly after. Neither of you moved, staying connected as you came down from your highs, with him now pulling back to look at you. Your well kissed lips, your hair a mess from running your fingers through it, and your still glazed over eyes. A scene that made him fall even more in love. “Please don’t leave… stay… I can’t let you go again.”
“Jeonghan…” You sigh, closing your eyes as you attempted to slip off him. Oversensitivity starting to take over, but he kept you there on top of him. “I have to though…” That was when you felt his hands loosen on your hips, and the look on his face nearly broke you, but still a small smile graced your lips, “I mean… If I plan to move back, I got to get everything in order…”
“No you don’t,” He pouted, and you leaned forward to kiss him. Soft, promising. “You can just start back over here… I am not letting you go.”
“Then I guess we need to buy you a plane ticket then.” You tease, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face that you’ve loved for years. “Cause I do have to go back.”
“We’ll see about that,” He smirked, making you laugh. “I love you. Always you.”
Thank you so much for reading I seriously hope you all enjoyed this!
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your boyfriend, gojo satoru, gets hit by a sex curse. +18
the curse hit faster than either of you could react.
one moment gojo was toying with the grade 1 curse like it was nothing, infinity shimmering around him. the next, the curse unfurled a sickly-sweet domain expansion that slipped past his defenses for a split second—just long enough for a wave of raw, molten lust to slam into him.
he staggered, blindfold still on, but you saw the way his shoulders tensed and his breathing hitched. by the time the curse was exorcised, gojo’s cheeks were flushed, his lips parted, and the front of his uniform pants was visibly strained.
“shit,” he muttered, voice already husky. “that one was… different.”
you barely got him back to the safe house before his control started slipping.
the door had barely clicked shut when he shoved you against it, tall body pressing flush against yours. his skin was fever-hot.
“sex curse,” he growled against your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. “it’s not lethal, but it’s burning me alive. i need— fuck, i need to fuck. hard. repeatedly. you gonna help me out, sweetheart, or do i have to beg?”
his usual playful arrogance was fraying at the edges, replaced by something darker and starving.
you answered by pulling him down into a kiss.
gojo groaned into your mouth like a man dying of thirst. his tongue pushed past your lips instantly, deep and filthy, while his hands roamed greedily—squeezing your ass, sliding under your shirt to palm your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they hardened.
he ripped your shirt open, buttons scattering across the floor. his own jacket and shirt followed in a frantic heap. the sight of him—pale skin glistening with sweat, abs tight, that perfect v-line disappearing into his dangerously low pants—made your mouth water.
gojo didn’t waste time. he lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist, and carried you to the bedroom while grinding his massive, aching cock against your core through your clothes.
the second your back hit the mattress he was on you.
he yanked your pants and underwear down in one rough tug, then shoved two long fingers inside you without warning. you gasped at the sudden stretch.
“already so wet for me,” he rasped, scissoring his fingers while his thumb circled your clit. “good girl. this pussy’s gonna take everything i give it tonight.”
you moaned as he curled his fingers against that spongy spot inside you, pumping them fast until your thighs trembled. he watched your face the entire time, blue eyes glowing brighter than usual behind the blindfold he finally tore off.
when you came on his fingers he didn’t even let you recover. he freed his cock—thick, veined, and flushed an angry red from the curse’s effects—and pushed inside you in one brutal thrust.
“fuuuck—” gojo’s head fell back, silver hair sticking to his forehead. “so fucking tight. squeezing me like you were made for this.”
he set a punishing pace immediately, hips snapping forward hard enough to make the bed slam against the wall. every thrust was deep, bottoming out and grinding against your cervix before pulling back and driving in again. the wet, obscene sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.
“harder, satoru—” you begged, nails raking down his back.
he laughed, low and broken. “yeah? you want it harder?” he hooked your legs over his shoulders and folded you in half, pounding you so deep you saw stars. “like this? gonna ruin this pretty little cunt for anyone else.”
you came again, clenching around him so tightly he cursed and followed right after, flooding you with the first thick load of the night. but he didn’t soften. the curse kept him rock hard.
he pulled out, flipped you onto your stomach, and yanked your hips up.
“again,” he demanded, slamming back in from behind. this angle made him feel even bigger. one hand fisted your hair, the other reached around to rub your swollen clit. “don’t tap out on me now, baby. i’m nowhere near done.”
he fucked you through your third orgasm, then fourth, switching positions like he couldn’t decide how he wanted to take you next. missionary so he could watch your face, then you on top so he could watch your tits bounce while he thrust up into you, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks.
at one point he pulled you to the edge of the bed, dropped to his knees, and buried his face between your thighs. his tongue was relentless—lapping at your mixed cum, sucking on your clit, fucking into you with long strokes while two fingers curled inside you.
“you taste so fucking good with my cum dripping out of you,” he groaned against your pussy. “keep making those pretty sounds for me.”
you came on his tongue twice before he stood up, spun you around, and bent you over the bed again. this time he pressed a thumb against your other hole while he fucked you, teasing but not pushing in.
hours blurred together.
by the fourth round you were a trembling, overstimulated mess—covered in bite marks, hickeys, and his cum. gojo’s thrusts had grown sloppy but no less deep. sweat dripped from his body onto yours as he chased yet another release.
“gonna fill you up one more time,” he panted against your ear, voice wrecked. “gonna pump you so full it leaks out for days. tell me you want it.”
“i want it— satoru, please— cum inside me again—”
he buried himself to the hilt and came with a long, guttural moan, hips jerking as he emptied everything he had left. only then did the unnatural heat in his body finally begin to fade.
he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his chest. his arms wrapped around you tightly, one hand gently stroking your hair while the other rubbed soothing circles on your lower back.
for a long moment the only sound was both of you trying to catch your breath.
“…you okay?” he asked softly, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your sweaty temple. the cocky smirk was creeping back, but his voice was gentle. “didn’t break you, did i?”
you let out a breathless laugh and weakly smacked his chest. “i’m gonna feel you for a week, you animal.”
gojo chuckled, low and warm, nuzzling into your neck. “good. means you’ll remember exactly who fucked you senseless.” he kissed the bite mark he’d left on your shoulder. “though… i might need a few more rounds tomorrow just to make sure the curse is really gone. doctor’s orders.”
you rolled your eyes, but you were already curling closer into his warmth.
“shut up and hold me, six eyes.”
he did exactly that—holding you like you were something precious while his fingers traced lazy patterns over your skin. the curse was gone, but the night was far from over.
a/n: another one i didn't bother proofreading 🤦♀️ i'll do better when i have time!
:: cws :: hurt to comfort to fluff, established relationships, something short and sweet. 𓏲˚ ۪
The static on the line vibrates right against your eardrum. It’s 2:14 AM, and you’re tired. It’s been three weeks, twenty-one days of dead silence from your situationship slash talking stage slash man that’s not really your man. Your phone burns a hole through the dark on your nightstand. You don’t even say hello. You press the glass to your ear, listening to the heavy, uneven hitch of his breathing.
"Hey," he whispers.
The sound is raw, similar to sandpaper over silk. There’s none of that blinding, obnoxious Gojo Satoru theater in his voice, it’s the quiet, hollowed-out weight of a man who hasn't slept in a month.
"Satoru?" Your voice is small, thick with sleep.
A ragged breath hits the mic on his end. "I'm outside. Well. Outside your window, specifically. And I’m drenched." A weak, self-deprecating chuckle breaks through the static. "Even Infinity doesn't feel like keeping the water off tonight." Liar. You know how he is.
You sit up, the blankets pooling around your waist. "Come inside. The window's unlocked." A second later, the latch clicks. A chill cuts through the bedroom air, followed by the soft, heavy thud of socks on your floorboards. He’s a massive, dark silhouette in the shadows, his white hair damp and hanging loose over his forehead, completely covering his eyes. The blindfold is stuffed into his pocket.
He doesn't move toward the bed. He stands there, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders uncharacteristically slumped. The strongest sorcerer alive, looking entirely fragile.
"I tried," he says, his voice cracking slightly on the syllable. He swallows hard, the movement of his throat sharp in the dim light. "I tried to do the whole... distant thing. To give you space. Keep you out of the mess. But I’m stupid. I’m so stupid."
You slide to the edge of the mattress, reaching out. Your fingers catch the damp hem of his sleeve. "Satoru, what's wrong?"
He collapses forward. Not hard, but like a tree finally giving into the wind. He drops to his knees by the bedside, burying his face directly into your lap. His hands come out of his pockets and wrap around your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt like he’s drowning and you’re the only thing keeping him above water.
He’s warm, radiating that intense, overwhelming heat he always has, but he’s trembling. Just a little.
"I can’t do it," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your thighs. "Everything is loud. The noise, the people, the higher ups... it’s all just constant noise. When I’m with you, it stops. My brain actually shuts up."
You run your fingers through his hair. It’s soft, despite the dampness, clumping between your fingertips. He lets out a long, shuddering sigh at the touch, leaning into your palm like a stray cat.
"Three weeks," he whispers, tilting his head up just enough so you can see the brilliant, fractured blue of his eyes in the dark. They’re wide, blinking up at you with a desperate, sweet vulnerability that he only ever saves for this room. "Twenty-one days. I haven’t eaten properly. I broke three coffee mugs because I wasn't paying attention. I can't function, baby. I’m completely useless without you. It’s pathetic."
"It's not pathetic," you soften, leaning down to press your forehead against his damp hairline.
"It is," he insists, a tiny, genuine trace of his usual pout returning to his lips. He pulls himself up, shifting until he’s crawling onto the mattress, crowding your space until he can wrap his long arms completely around you, pulling you flush against his chest. He tucks his chin into the crook of your neck, breathing you in.
"I love you," he confesses, the words tumbling out fast, urgent, completely devoid of his usual smirk. "I love you so much it makes me dizzy. Please don’t ever let us argue for that long again. Just let me stay here. Let me be small for a little bit."
You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, holding him tight, feeling the rapid, steady thud of his heart against your ribs. "You can stay, Satoru. As long as you need."
He relaxes completely, his heavy frame going pliant against yours, burying his face back into your neck with a soft, content sigh. The strongest man in the world, finally safe enough to sleep.
your super rich boyfie!satoru takes spoiling you very seriously ♡
oh, satoru has a hero complex. a big one. it's not even the typical 'i need to save the world' hero complex (though he has that, too). it's the 'i need to save you from mild inconveniences' complex. and it's exhausting.
you’d think that being a jujutsu sorcerer would make the little things seem insignificant—like a burnt piece of toast or a flat tire—but to satoru, these things were personal attacks on your peace and happiness. a minor inconvenience to you was an all-out emergency for him.
for example, the other day, you came home after a particularly long mission, grumbling about how the straps on your backpack were digging into your shoulders. a perfectly normal, end-of-the-day complaint. but satoru’s eyes went wide, his smile vanishing, and he instantly became a whirlwind of frantic planning.
“no, no, no, absolutely not. that’s unacceptable,” he declared, already pulling out his phone. "which brand? what color? i'm getting you a whole new luggage set, a proper one. i’m talking custom-made, ergonomic straps, with memory foam lining the shoulders. maybe we should look into a personal chauffeur, too, for your next trips. that way you don’t have to carry anything at all.”
you just stared at him, tilting your head. “satoru, it’s just, like, a backpack. i’m just tired.”
“exactly! you shouldn’t be tired! you should be pampered! this is all the backpack’s fault,” he insisted, dramatically throwing your perfectly fine, slightly worn-out bag into a corner. he then pulled you onto the couch, already ordering takeout from your favorite high-end restaurant because you "clearly need high-quality nutrients to recover from such shoulder trauma."
you sighed, burying your face into his shoulder. "i just wanted a hug, 'toru."
he tightened his arms around you, but his phone was still glowing with shopping tabs. "a hug and a five-star dining experience, darling. and maybe a whole new wardrobe. just in case those clothes are also... digging into you. or something."
you knew better than to argue. the fight had been lost the moment your mildly strained shoulders had been mentioned. you were beautiful, and you were his, and therefore, you must be protected from everything, even the minor discomforts of daily life.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, sèx pollen, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, creampíes, bréeding, making them whímper, oraI (fem), true form Sukuna, Sukuna’s two mouths, ínappropríate use of jujutsu, 7:3 technique, GOJO’S POWERS, matíng presses, overstím, bóndage, first times (Choso), losing control, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 5.9k
A/N. Can you guess the title reference heheh?
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - WICKED!
Toji Fushiguro swears he isn’t affected - he swears that stupid, stray technique didn’t actually hit him when finishing off today’s job.
After all, it’s not like he’s some weak, pathetically needy-
“Please, doll.” Toji gasps - he heaves - hot and heavy between your pretty legs. Letting his roughened tongue slide its pathway across that perky scar sitting right on the edge of his white-glossed lip, re-tasting you. Himself. And he can feel the way his overworked tip twitches at that cute wide-eyed gaze of yours, mouth dropping at him begging. “Don’t make me ah- say any of that s-stupid stuff again.”
You huff out a low bout of teasing laughter that makes him flinch, “Hmm, but I don’t think I heard you properly, baby?”
God, he wished he couldn’t smell your sweet saccharine scent fogging up his mind, he wished the mere sound of your honeyed tone didn’t have him gushing out in another sweltering hot wave. Growling, “W-when this is over I swear—”
“Time’s ticking…”
Damn.
“P-please-” The word comes out strangled - pained. “Can I p-put it back inside, ma?”
It’s a beg - a plea.
One that has Toji’s ears flushing an angry red, and his eyes looking up at you tearily in a way that uttered he’d die right now if he didn’t get another taste of your heavenly cunt.
You can barely even start to let your head shake with a nod before a choked-up groan bursts from Toji’s wobbly lips. And he’s flipping you over with one simple push of his large, strong arms attached roughly onto your hips. Pushing your pliantly face into the soft, silken pillows on all fours like he couldn’t bear hearing any more of those sweet sounds of yours. For the sake of his sanity.
“Yes-” he gasps, digits curling around his thick hilt to guide them into a pretty peck against your cunt. “Yes yes yes yes- finally- ah finally-”
He’s drooling. Still so greedy even after hours now.
Swollen cock so rawly red and angry, he’s splattering out freshly translucent swashes of precum against your puckered hole. Creamy and drizzled with rings of cum from just before that he hadn’t been able to lap up mere moments earlier.
Toji couldn’t get enough- he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t think it’s even physically possible.
“Can’t believe what ya d-do to me-” His words are hushed, unsteady - like they were on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. Pressing a lingering trail of kisses down your arched spine, he gulps in your heady pheromones. “-oh, s’not even that fucking p-pollen, ya have no fuckin’ idea.”
But ah he gets even harder at your scent. Shuddering out a heavy groan, every powerful limb of Toji’s utterly loosening at the way your toasty cunt was hugging him so tightly all over again. You’re being massaged against his mouth-watering abs when he pushes even further in-
“Where the fuck do you think you’re g-going, huh?”
It takes you a few cockdrunken seconds to realize that this is Toji talking to you - deep baritone a few octaves higher, cracking ever-so-slightly at the end in a way you’d never even imagined before. And a few more to recognize that you’d been clawing at the rickety headboard, jittery hips sneaking mere inches away from his ruthless size.
You’re gasping, letting go immediately. “I-I didn’t mean- you’re just so big, Toji.”
And, truly, he was.
There’s so much of him.
You didn’t know whether it was the sex pollen that had him fitting out the snug inches of his girth so massively bigger than usual. Strawberry tip red and painting your puffy pussy lips to be dripping wet, it seemed like just the tiniest piston has his rotund head spreading open your taut insides.
Has Toji’s head reeling. Has him getting angry at the slightly melty recoil that had his bawling tip parting from your insides for a split-second.
Addicted.
But this makes Toji hiss, it makes his strong arms wrap around your waist in a vice-like bodylock. Eyes crinkling with watery beads of tears, he catches your lips in a filthy, filthy kiss. “No- don’t fuckin- you can fucking take it- want it- need it, ma, please- think m’gonna die without ya-”
Gripping harshly onto your hips to slam into the very depths of your pussy, he’s feeding your sopping slit with every his girthy inch. All the way until his hefty balls kiss wetly up against your ass.
THUD!
“Oh shit-” your voice quivers, eyeing the sagging end of the bed. “Toji, you broke the-”
But that didn’t matter to Toji. Why would it?
SLAM!
In fact, it’s the fucking last thing he could think about before swiftly maneuvering your body to press against the fucking floor with a strained gruff.
And in a split-second, something muscular and weighty is being pressed onto the back of your head. You gasp when you realize that it’s Toji’s foot, angling his gyrating hips perfectly right to swipe an oozing glide of wispy precum down your battered g-spot.
He’s panting - heaving out, “Heh, s-spread ‘em-” Frantically kneeing apart your limp legs wider, “oh, yeah tha’s it. Shhh sh sh-” You didn’t know whether Toji was trying to soothe you or his greedy self. “Take this f-fuckin’ cock f’me, alright?”
Splaying out one palm midway down your stomach to massage and feel for his riotous nudge, exactly where he could feel himself ramming in for the nth time. Over and over-
Hmm…maybe this sex pollen wasn’t too bad.
“W-what?” You’re whirling your bleary gaze over your shoulder to sputter and Toji registers that his drunken mouth has accidentally babbled out loud.
But the only response you mercifully get is Toji spooning his fingers down to swirl over your neglected clit. A sleazy grin smearing all over his face at the way his thick digits slip and slide from how coated your sensitive nub was with his seed.
“M’jus’ s-sayin, ma-” he grins, and you feel his tight, cum-filled balls thwack! thwack! thwack! against your overstuffed cunt even harder. More wickedly. “This sex pollen’s making me a bit…hungry again.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 7:3
“M-my love-” Nanami hisses through a wince at the way his rich baritone was breaking pathetically - hoarse, choked-up. He’s never felt this way. Never. “J-jus’ one more?”
Never been so greedy. So horny.
Like he’d die if he doesn’t paint your pretty pussy white.
And if the way your husband had you folded into a mean mess of a mating press wasn’t enough to agree, he’s planting a pretty peck right against the battered bullseye of your g-spot with his swollen tip. Hard.
The spongy cushion making him collapse onto his elbows with a groan, repeating his same, syrupy mantra. “Please o-one more-”
Nanami’s stamina was incredible by itself but now?
Now it had you blinking back your sobbing tears, swiping away the sweat-dampened strands of blond from his face with a trembly hand, “Only one more?”
Oh, Nanami’s voice opens to agree, his lips crack open to repeat them- those words barely babbling out of his loose mouth before your clingy walls suddenly give him a tempting squeeze. And any and all rational thought is sucked thoroughly out of him-
“I-I don’t know-” he’s breathing out, letting his head fall into the safety of the crook of your neck. Hips still stuttering forwards to spearhead into your gummy depths. Mindlessly. He could feel the drippingly wet slosh of his cum coating his shaft. Drinking in your sweet, sweet scent, “Don’t- don’t know why this is happening. Don’t know if it’s ‘nough- don’t hngh- know if it’ll ever be. J-jus’ want you a pretty m-momma, darling.”
And it’s all that he’s been thinking about for the whole day now.
Right from the very second he’d been hit with a special grade technique during a mission, to the moment that Nanami had stormed up to your apartment and taken you right then and there on the living room floor.
Hours ago.
“P-please-”
Nanami doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, but it’s just about all that he can sputter out like a little prayer.
However, you do, apparently. Flashing him a cockdrunken smile that makes his breath hitch, and his tip bawl out a new velvety wave of precum that splatters against the ends of your cervix. You hum, “Mhm- o-one more, Ken–”
Immediately being shut up by a sudden slam! into your sweetest spots, he’s rutting in so deep, so thoroughly that you’re left deliriously wondering whether the circumference of his girth would be left indented onto your melty walls. Again. And again and again and- shit, was he using his jujutsu?
Was he even in control?
“Can’t stop- can’t stop can’t stop- I-it’s like-” Jackhammering pound after angry pound so hard that you’re being pushed further and further up the floor. “You’re too good to me- no!” he cries, accidentally sliding out from between your glossy folds to smack! smack! smack! his furiously reddened cock down the splatters of seed that drip down from your slit. Twitching until he bullies back in- “-promise m’gonna m-make it up to ya- hah- promise m’not gonna miss.”
And then he’s letting your unsteady fingers clutch tightly around the silky fabric of that yellow, speckled work tie that he hadn’t even bothered removing. “H-hold onto this- hold- in case I get too…”
“Ken-” you hiss, feeling the cold circumference of Nanami’s wedding ring prod at your clit. So full you have the distinct thought that you could almost explode. “M’not s-sure if it’ll fit though-”
But Nanami didn’t want that - couldn’t even bear the thought-
Cracking a low whine at the very back of his throat when he immediately flinches away - spreading out his rounded fingers across your stomach to press. He coats his warm cock with a sudden gleam of cum eagerly, “S’this o-okay now? Will- will it fit, my love?”
And it’s so, so filthy.
You’re mewling like such a slut, “Yes- yes yes yes yes- m-more-”
Nanami was practically burning up, heaving for air. His feverish pleas panting out condensely against your face.
“Gonna fill this ngh- cute cunt up until she’s overspilling.” Rummaging his dick inside your gooey cunt dangerously accurately, grazing up the thumping pace of his veins down the crevices of all your sensitive spots. Even hidden ones. “Have you all round and ah- glowing with my kid.” Uncharacteristically leaving a sodden swat! at your plump clit to watch your gush out in another creamy ring. “Can’t rest- can’t fuckin’ stop until I do. Feels like m’burning.”
Your fingers wrap even more desperately around his tie, pulling - hauling.
Yes, he gulps. This is what he wanted - what he needed. What the pollen was begging him for.
His lips leer down to glissade wetly across your own, not even a kiss because he could barely even manage one. Unable to even raise his droopy eyes to meet your stare, “-hah- what do you want- t-tell me what you want, my wife.”
Your own lips quiver. “I-I want two babies, Ken-”
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
When Nanami was out of control, he was unrecognizable.
Hips slamming against yours in a few more sloppy strokes, before filling up every empty space with hot pumps of his seed. Voluminous. It’s spurting against your walls with a wet thwack! and not even your hand around his tie makes him slow down.
The air crackles with a few more sparks of jujutsu - except Nanami couldn’t control it. Couldn’t grasp the way even with his technique, he was so drunk on your pussy that his cock was just barely drawing wet glides of cum down your g-spot. Almost missing.
Making him malfunction his cursed technique.
Yet, the only thing you can register is when your own orgasm hits, white-hot tingles flashing down your spine. Toes curling, pulse thundering so loudly in your ears that you almost miss-
“O-one…just one more, my love?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - (Un)affected
“I don’t…I don’t-”
Now, Geto Suguru had absolutely zero idea what he was about to babble away - maybe that he wasn’t affected by that sex pollen curse he’d swallowed, maybe that he wasn’t losing a slight bit of his sanity with every feverish drag of his fingers down his painfully hard cock.
“-don’t need anythin’ but your hngh- pretty face, gorgeous. Help out your leader, would ya?”
And oh, you looked like such a dream below him - with your glassy eyes blinking up at him, tongue darted out so obscenely to catch the stray splatters of his aphrodisiac-like precum. Pearly, winking beads that drip! drip! drip! down his visibly throbbing length.
His beautiful second-in-command.
And he was so ruined.
Sounding so pathetic when he whispers, scared at the way he knew his words would crack pathetically at the very end. “B-bring yerself closer, no need to be hah- shy- let me- let me…please.”
But he looked so pretty above you.
Splayed out in such a messy way on the throne for the association leader, dark brows knitted, sweat trickling in glistening rivulets down his forehead. Strands of Geto’s long, dark hair stick to his forehead when he smacks your pouty lips with his angry cock until they’re rubbed raw.
“Wan’ you to cum, Sugu–” you’re batting your lashes in a way that makes his swollen cock twitch in his hands. Smearing your palms up and down the creamy skin of his muscular, manspread thighs, “-cum on my face, please?”
Fuck, he was so unfairly sensitive right now that just the singular gust of your words hitting his cock made Geto’s abs ripple. Make his entire body wrack with shudder after shudder as his weepy tip spits out a translucent few beads of precum.
“S-such a naughty mouth.” he’s hissing, trying for the life of him to not act like the simplest glide of your palms had Geto fighting back his high already. “Better be ah- careful. Can’t talk like that n’ not end up s-stuffed full, honey–”
It’s a warning.
For both of you.
Geto’s finding his roughened digits fly down faster and faster his length, squeezing ever-so-slightly harder near his mushroom slit.
You whine, “But I want that, Sugu.”
You little minx. You evil, evil little-
And he can’t fucking stop the way his hefty balls clench - painfully, obscenely, sluttily in a way that has the pinkish divot at the very end of his cock spurt out in a ribbon of steaming hot seed.
You’re closing your eyes, waiting for more- but Geto has other plans.
Plans that have him swiping over the thick pad of his thumb to press down hard at the very ruby head of his erection, choking back a slew of swears when he wavers off his orgasm for just a second. Just long enough to drag you upwards with one free hand attaching to your waist.
Up, up, up-
“Sit on m-my cock, gorgeous-” he’s spitting, wet and panted against your lips. Dizzying. You gasp at the sodden drag of Geto’s bawling tip down your pre-soaked pussy lips, meshing in a wet, wet French kiss. “-c’mon. Ride me. Ride me please- m’burning up.”
And it was the only opportunity you’d get to hear the dangerous Geto Suguru whine, to see him blink his long, teary lashes up at you when you sink your drooling cunt down his girth just an inch.
He was so warm splitting you open.
So steaming hot when your tight pussy floods with string wads of cum, such a mind-numbing orgasm that Geto can feel it before he even registers it. One that has his toes curling, his arms locking around your waist to fuck up into you like he hates you.
“D-don’t get it twisted m’early because of the ah- p-pollen.” he groans, back muscles flexing with every perfect curved arch upwards into your greedy hips. The wet thwack! of skin-on-skin resounds throughout the tatami room and makes Geto drool. Unable to even spell out coherent sentences right now - well, not until he feels your sloppy hips slow down just a tad.
“Sugu- m’tired.”
Truly, his stamina was too much.
Swat! His fingers leave branding little imprints, before roughly attaching to pinch your pulsing clit, “Work on it, gorgeous- tha’s an order. Because m’not hngh- anywhere near done. Jus’ milk me- milk me dry…oh, yeah let that pretty pussy have her fun-”
“O-oh fuck fuck fuck-” You clutch precariously at the mahogany woodwork of his chair, thighs aching with the sheer effort to try and bounce your drippingly wet pussy down onto his rudely jostling cock. “-there’s so much- ah- can feel it drippin’ down my thighs-”
“Sh-shut up.” Geto’s managing to get out through grit teeth, planting another unabashed smack on your cunt simply to prove his point. Begging, “God, please- mercy-”
Because your honeyed tone is so sweet, your words so filthy that they have him spurting out a few more fatigued rivers of cum.
Rasping out the tiniest of whimpers with each of your damp bounces, he makes you work. “O-open that mouth.” And you listen - of course, you do - letting those pretty, spit-glossed lips fall open into a soft ah! All so perfect for him to spit- the taste makes you hot. Burning, like an aphrodisiac. And now you’re feeling dizzy. “Bein’ way too talkative f-for a ngh- second-in-command. Aren’t ya?”
And obviously you don’t point out the slight drizzle of drool that makes its way down the corner of his coral pink lips, obviously you don’t point out just how hot and heavy he was swirling lewdly inside your walls. Stretching you out to the max - still so hard despite cumming for the nth time already.
No, instead, you smile drunkenly. “Why? D-does it affect you, sir?”
Smack!
“Sh-shut up n’ keep riding me, gorgeous.” And you could’ve sworn that Geto’s voice broke.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Bed chem.
Choso was ruined. Absolutely fucked out…and he was so pathetically embarrassed about it.
Unable to wrangle the teary ah! ah! ah! ripping from the very depths of his throat every time your drenched cunt was dragging down his sensitive shaft. Still clothed, still glissading along his thumping veins teasingly - but he felt like he could cum already.
“P-please, baby-” The thick pads of his jittery fingers find their way to the edges of your soaked underwear, hooking inside ever-so-slightly - and the tiniest sneak peek of your puffy pussy lips makes him gulp. “-please I feel like m’gonna hah- die without ya.”
“But, Cho—” And that nickname in your sweetened tone is enough for him to buck right off the silken sheets. “-how am I supposed to help you with the pollen, otherwise? M’jus’ being a good friend.”
You wanted him to say it.
You wanted your best friend to beg.
“I-I…”
And oh, he trails off - because you’re helping him slide your sticky panties just enough down your thighs. Flashing him such a dangerous smile right as you watch Choso’s mouth drop, dark brows scrunching together when he heaves out a moan.
“I d-don’t know, baby- I don’t- I don’t know-” And he felt like he was burning, he felt his melty mind getting dizzier by the minute as your slobbering cunt drags in determined gyrations against him faster. Swollen folds spreading to coat the pattern of his throbbing veins in a gleaming sheen. Humping so ferally. “B-but you smell so good and f-feel so oh- all I want is…”
You don’t get to hear the rest of his sentence.
Within a split-second, your panties are left in tiny tatters for him to breathe in. Filthily.
Drinking in his fill before he has one pinning both your wrists behind your back. The other plugging into your cunt to circle a slow swivel enough for him to bully inside-
Heaven. He was in heaven.
“This. This is what it oh- feels like? This is a-all I want-” he’s hiccuping, voice breaking into such a pretty whine every time his raw cock is tapping against the softest areas of your gummy walls. “-to fuck my p-pretty best friend. All I’ve ever wanted- S’my first ngh- time, y’know?”
You’re fluttering your eyes back open to bore down at Choso’s fucked-out expression. “S’your first time? Wh-why didn’t you ah- tell me, Cho?”
And maybe because he was embarrassed, maybe because all it takes is a single clench of your saturated cunt around his girthy shaft for him to shoot out a few wisps of cum. Half-orgasming already.
But Choso only plants his powerful thighs flat on the mattress to pressurize his slow drills upwards.
Tentative, almost. As if he wasn’t utterly rummaging your insides, poking at your glossy cervix with sopping wet glides of his fat cock, stretching out your taut channel to massage spots you didn’t even know existed.
The pollen had him greedier than ever.
“Mhmm– because th-there’s no one else f’me.” His lower lip wobbles cutely, dewy eyes drooping to an almost closed state with every drag of his cock down your elastic walls. Filthy. Feverish. “S’jus’ for a bit- just- hah- just for the pollen, remember?”
Oh, right. You’re shuffling your hands precariously onto Choso’s bulging pecs to determine your grinds even more thoroughly. Pound after pound that left your ass stinging with impact. It was so hypnotic that you’d almost forgotten about the entire reason you were…helping in the first place.
You fingers bully between his plump lips, muttering, “Open f’me, Cho?”
And of course Choso would do anything you command in a heartbeat. Anything. The only thing on his mind when he lets his mouth fall slack - just in time for your syrupy stream of spit. Hitting right onto the middle of his tastebuds, swallowing.
So heady that he half-wonders whether you were the cause of the sex pollen itself.
Holding back a few strained pleas for mercy, he’s placing a wet line of pecks down the side of your teary cheeks- shit, when did you even start crying? Choso can’t help but let his pinkish tongue loll out to lick a languid stripe up those salty dredges, groaning.
“Just for the p-pollen and…”
“And what?” you’re crying out, feeling one set of his ringed fingers curl deftly around the nub of your clit. Swiping a wet drag of his rotund pads down the very sensitive edges of the hood, it makes your thighs shiver down even faster to meet Choso’s addicted pace.
“And then…”
In a split-second, you’re being flipped over so meanly. Splayed out like such a slut on the plush mattress when Choso drags your limp legs up onto the curves of his deltoids, abs flexing and rubbing up against your ass when he folds in half down, down, down into the meanest mating press you’ve never thought possible.
Choso’s gleamingly sharp canines sink into your ear lobe, breath feverishly hot against your ear. In fact, all of him was absolutely burning right now. Heaving. “-then m’gonna hngh- marry you.” Spitting into your open mouth - broken. Desperate. “F-fuck the talking stage, fuck dating- m’gonna wife you up.” You feel his hips get sloppier and sloppier, spearheading Choso’s fat cock to the very bruised bottom of your pussy. “Shit- gonna propose. Be my wife- the mother of my kids. Breed this cunt- Let me please- ngh- please by my wife.”
Maybe it was the sex pollen that had him babbling so much, maybe it was you.
But either way - Choso doesn’t care. He doesn’t give a shit when you’re opening your lips enough to mumble, “I-I do- Cho.”
His best friend. Enough to make him rut up into you wildly like an animal. Clashing his wet tip over and over in sopping slides down your g-spot. Again. And again and-
And the only answer is Choso’s whimper, “A-and please…can your h-husband cum inside, baby?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Mouthy?!
Sukuna’s hooking two of his fingers into the corner of his mouth - his other mouth. A wide, ravenous smile. Larger, greedier, positioned right underneath your shamefully spread cunt. “Move that damn hand before I hafta do it myself, woman.”
And oh he sounded so impatient - so utterly strained like just a few seconds longer would have Ryomen Sukuna rampaging.
Your entire body burns with embarrassment, jittery legs almost coming to a close at the feverish pant of his second mouth. Drooling, ravenously condensing out little droplets of saliva that splatter onto your quivering hole like a blank canvas.
“B-but are you sure, Kuna?” you’re whimpering, biting back tiny gasps at the way his tongue drags its sodden taste-buds along where you were straddling him with your sheeny inner thighs. Face sitting but…not quite. “Y-you’re that needy?”
Oh.
Oh, you should’ve known better than to accuse the infamous King of Curses of being needy - no matter how utterly true it was right about now.
Sukuna didn’t know what potion Uraume had accidentally knocked into his last meal, but it had him so ruined. He couldn’t even breathe without all the blood in his towering body rushing straight into his painfully swollen cocks, couldn’t even think without feeling like his veins were boiling with the sudden greed to taste you.
Because Sukuna might have had his meal…but he was still starving. In a way he didn’t even know before rolling his tongue past your glossy folds.
And he was chuckling out a dangerous bout of rumbling laughter that makes your lower lip wobble, “Don’t fuckin’ call me n-needy. M’jus-” Addicted? Hypnotized? Battling with the feeling that he’ll die without your pretty pussy? Deep voice petering out when he couldn’t even begin to justify the way that Sukuna was dragging his lolling tongue down your sodden folds, twirling the very pointed tip over the hood of your clit. “-fuck- I don’t need to give you an explanation, p-puny human. Just ride me.”
That’s all the answer you’re getting before he hunches over - long tongue tunneling even deeper around your melty walls and Sukuna was drooling. Smacking many, many wet kisses.
He’s throwing his head back into the decadently royal pillows with a slight, cracking whimper at the sweet, sweet taste of you on his tongue. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. Swivelling wetly so that every single bead of your juices drip its silky way into his widely opened mouth. “Jus’ need a taste- just one taste.”
Your juices were like nectar, making the pollen rush.
“C-can you even taste like this, Kuna–?” your voice comes out in tiny whines. Positioning your shivery hands on either side of his shoulders to steady your legs - it just felt so unbearably good.
Swat!
And even with his thick, calloused fingertips, it felt like Sukuna was putting in twice the strength to plant a branding smack onto the curve of your jiggling ass. “Silly girl, of course I can taste this pretty cunt of yours-” Smoothing over the raised digits, and bearing you with such a sleazy grin. “-askin’ soo many q-questions, huh?”
“But-”
Smack!
“Shh, why don’t we let her speak for a second, now- hm?”
Silencing down his own grunts until all that resounds in the chamber are those sloshing squelches of your cunt dragging back and forth Sukuna’s monstrous tongue. The sounds of his wet muscle gyrating in and out hotly - it was almost burning.
“Heh, real talkative this one is, too.” he’s snickering. Two of his arms attaching roughly onto your trembly hips, and a third covering your sagging mouth. “-why dontcha hngh- play with this pretty cunt of yours a lil’, brat? Make her all nice n’ even wetter f’me to taste?”
And it’s all you can do to dance one hand down to run over your poorly neglected clit, toying with that nub just the way you liked - and the way Sukuna liked, too. If the way his mouth - both his mouths - were smiling told you anything.
Yet, he wanted more.
“Fuck- fuck, wait.” And Sukuna smacks! away your hand with his free one - he couldn’t even last a few minutes with anyone other than himself staking a slutty claim on your cunt. “Let- let me.” Every roll of his tongue goes hand-in-hand with the meanest little drag of his fat thumb down your clit. At your surprised yelp, “Shut up and ride it.”
You’re clenching your teeth, bouncing your thighs up and down to glissade a ride everywhere from the ridges of Sukuna’s defined abs to the edges of his slurping tongue.
“Heheh yeah-” he’s giggling - giggling. Drunk on you and your ravenous hips, you were moving against him so filthy at this point and he almost feels himself - the king of curses - blush. Head lolling backwards but eyeing down to watch how spearheaded you were on his tongue, surging in and out in wet sloshes to fuck your pretty cunt open on him. “Clenchin’ around me so tight- looks like you’re gonna cum, hm?”
“I-I am…so close, Kuna-”
“Don’ needa tell me- this cunt is speaking ‘nough for the both of ya. Right about-” Your eyes spark with sudden stars as he leaves another sudden smack! on your ass, your clit, and then one on your thigh. Before pulling- hauling- “-now.”
And the very moment you feel that build-up within your stomach snap - gushing out in wet wave after wave of your orgasm. All you can do is grab on helplessly to the- the headboard?
Blinking open your bleary eyes to realize that you were sitting on Sukuna’s mouth. His actual mouth. Cracked wide open for him to lap up every single bead and splatter of your squirting.
Such a filthy mess.
“There we go-” he’s groaning, eyes falling half-lidded. And through the corner of your eye, you catch the way his second mouth licks its lips devilishly. “-now I’m almost full.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - “D-do you hate me?”
“What?” you’re blinking down at your dear boyfriend. “Of course not, Toru-”
“Then, y-you really think this will hold me back, sweetheart?”
The words are barely out of Gojo’s mouth before he already knows that they’re bluffs, already knows that the strongest is powerless against those thick black blindfolds restraining his wrists to the bedposts - and you.
You, you, you-
With your trembly legs straddling his lap, hovering your cunt just above his strawberry blushed head so deliciously. Your sodden pussy lips slobbering all the way down his length in a way that Gojo finds dizzying. He just can’t help but tug-
“Now now, I said no pulling.” Your honeyed tone makes his fat tip twitch despite the way it was dripping with a filthy warning. “Jus’ the tip, Toru. Remember?”
Right…not.
“Yes yes yes yes-” Gojo gasps wetly, feet planting on either side of the mattress to buck up and push. To smear a pretty peck right past your folds and against that tight ring of muscle, hot. And, shit, maybe it was that fucking pollen but Gojo whimpers, how he wished he could touch you. “-jus’ the tip. The tip hngh- please jus’ take me I don’t even c-care.”
But he did.
Oh, how much Gojo cared ever since he’d let himself be hit by that weak sex pollen jujutsu as a joke.
Never expecting to end up babbling thoroughly pussydrunkenly like this, to have his twitchy cock sinking in a mere inch into your melty walls and feeling like he was about to burst.
“You say that but this is way more than ‘just the tip’, Toru–”
And Gojo can’t help but look, to snap his teary eyes downwards and drink in the way your puffed-up pussy lips were bulging all around his thick cock. Just barely past his sensitive slit, he could catch that thumping pulse at your cunt like you wanted to milk something delicious.
“A-are ya sure, pretty?” he’s snickering, gripping on tightly to use the lewd leverage of his ties to rut up, up, up- “Doesn’t l-look like hngh- s’enough to me.”
Shit.
He can’t help the way his prattling mouth sags open when your tight cunt swallows up another greedy inch. And if any of you two had been in a slightly less delirious state of mind, then you’d have noticed the way the dim bedroom lighting flickers, the way your bed shifts.
Keening at the slight thickening where his hilt was fatter, spearheading your taut pussy so open. It’s like his prominent veins were throb throb throbbing to massage forbidden sweet spots that you didn’t even know existed.
You’re taking a few sloppy seconds to find your voice, gathering up every shred of will in your body to make sure it doesn’t break. “D-don’t act like you’re hah- forgiven for g-getting yourself into this mess, baby-”
Ah, Gojo practically purrs underneath you. “Jus’ feel like m’gonna d-die without ya-” Bed creaking when he riotously thrusts upwards to match your tantalizing pace with a much sloppier one of his own. That smack-on-smack after every pound music to his ears - but not enough. “But, if you let m-me outta these ngh– ties then maybe I could-”
“Toru…”
Oh, he was in trouble.
But that angry scoff on your pretty features only had Gojo moaning, gulping in desperate heavals of your scented pheromones. Dizzying.
“Satoru.”
Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, Gojo was out of control.
Head throwing back at your voice, lips gasping. Furiously ramming upwards into you with every ounce of strength he had - and Gojo could feel his limbs weaken, his bones ache with fatigue but he needed more.
Maybe it was the pollen, probably it was him.
Burning for it.
“Aww don’ be like that. J-just the tip- just the tip-” he’s hiccuping out, eyes rearing almost half-closed. Sweat drips down the middle of his spine, your slick smears down in a wet gush onto his tufts of white when your pussy lips kiss his toned pelvis. Way past the tip but Gojo couldn’t stop- “-a little more-” Pushing mindlessly deeper, “-the tip- fuck you can take it- jus ah-” Wouldn’t stop. Can’t stop.
“Toru-” your words pitch into something pathetically whiny now. “-m’so close…”
He already knew
Of course, he already knew. His six eyes could catch that extra wad of drool coating your inner walls, the way your rapid pulse was probing even louder against his overwhelmed cock. Almost painfully.
“Mhm– I know I know-” he gasps, ripping out a guttural moan when you’re craning over your pretty self to lick a path down the side of that sliver of drool at his mouth. “-cum f’me then- cum- hngh- cum on my cock, please?”
“I should hah- leave you right now, for lying about j-just the tip.”
But who was Gojo Satoru against you?
The slight threat only just leaves your glossed lips before he feels a stubborn pricking behind his eyes. Fuck, what a spectacle this would be to anyone right now. Big, bulbous tears crinkling down the side of his cheeks, Gojo bats his wet lashes innocently up at you. “Please?”
And with a shudder, you’re cumming - crashing headfirst into your orgasm.
Fuck, you’re wondering whether this curse was contagious with how strong those waves of your high are. Peak after peak and only much, much later do you realize that Gojo’s already ripped straight through his restraints.
Left as mere tatters by the pillow when he latches on roughly to your waist and pounds up his drilling rams, over and over to target your poor, bruised g-spot. Fucking you through your high, vision swimming, lights exploding-
And Gojo doesn’t even realize he’s cumming until he’s managing to crack his glowing eyes open to bore down at the milky ring of white painting around his thick hilt. Gasping in wonderment, he’s running a singular digit down the glossy puddle - before popping it into his mouth. Sucking.
“Sweetheart…would you h-hate me if I said I’m ah- still feeling the sex pollen?”
I made a request, and now I'm full of ideas!!! Little brother's best friend Jeonghan, who is a year younger than mc and has always been a brat and has always had a crush on mc, but she's never given him the time of day until they're older and he has all that hot man energy and she just can't resist him. And he turns out to be a dom through and through 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
I AM HERE FOR ALL YOUR REQUESTS, THEY'RE ALWAYS SO GOOD
Dom Jeonghan is just a fact for me at this point. Like I know he could definitely be a brat but he just has that smirk that has dom written all over it. I hope you like it!!!!
I'm going to try and smash through a loud of the requests tomorrow because I finally have a day off with zero things to do other than daydream about my favourite men
18+ content, MDNI
Warning- spanking
Brother's best friend Jeonghan who has always been fucking annoying. He's a year younger than you and has been your brother's shadow since forever. He’d cheat in every game you played, always acting like such a brat and spend all his time inserting himself into your life, not caring that as your brother's best friend he was cramping your style. You ignored him, he was irritating and younger than you, you just wanted him to leave you alone and stay out of your life.
Brother's best friend Jeonghan who you don't see for a couple of years, you both went off to university and now you're working and he's in his final year. But you don't doubt he’s still as fucking annoying as ever, you'd known him most of your life, people don't change that much and so you weren't looking forward to seeing him at dinner, for the first time in ages.
Brother's best friend Jeonghan who makes your freeze in your steps when you walk into your parent’s dining room, the potatoes nearly falling from your hands when his eyes find yours. You try to smile at him to say hello but, very unlike the Jeonghan of old who would fall over himself to say hello to you, just looks back at your father and carries on the conversation like he didn't see you. Something in your stomach feels weird at that but you put it down to his rudeness and him being fucking irritating.
Brother's best friend Jeonghan who you watch throughout dinner, wondering how the bratty little shit who used to annoy the life out of you has become some sort of super model. His hair is cut and styled perfectly, his clothes are far removed from the skinny jeans and comic book t-shirts he used to wear and he has an air about him that you can’t help but be drawn to. If you saw him at a bar, you wouldn't think twice about approaching him.
Brother's best friend Jeonghan who when you ask him how his final year is going and what he plans on doing next, replies “it's fine, not sure yet” and turns around to talk animatedly to your brother. That weird feeling grows in your stomach, like you used to get in school when your crush clearly didn't feel the same as you and you'd run off in embarrassment until everyone forgot about your attempts at talking to him. But this isn't a crush, it's your brother's annoying best friend and you can't believe he's making you feel like this.
Brother's best friend Jeonghan who says he doesn't really feel like a walk after dinner when your brother and parents are heading out, he knows you've held back to wash the dishes and he's no intention of letting this opportunity slide. He saw how you reacted to him and the way your face dropped when he treated you coldly. But he couldn't resist taunting you when he saw the clear attraction on your face when you first saw him tonight. He may have changed, but that annoying little shit is still there somewhere and you're about to learn just how annoying he can be.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who bites his lip with a wicked smirk on his face when he walks in the kitchen and the first thing he spots is your perfect ass in jeans that look too fucking good to be wasted on family dinner. He can’t help himself, he's waited his whole life to have a chance with you and that fucking adorable pout you had when he ignored you at dinner shows him he's finally got his chance.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who smiles wickedly when you jump as his hands appear either side of the sink, his chest against your back and body caging you to the spot. You're so shocked you can't even figure out what’s happening, his scent overtakes your last logical thought and all you can do is try to breathe normally as you feel his fingertips brush your neck when he moves your hair to side and grumbles into your ear “why are you in such a mood in here, all on your own? Surely its not because I ignored you, I thought I was a fucking brat who needed to stay out of your life?”
Brother's best friend Jeonghan who doesn't let you answer, his hands grope your tits so firmly that he pulls your body completely against him, a little moan escaping when you feel his semi hard dick against your ass. You still can't even get your words out, this was the last thing you were expecting from dinner with your family and Jeonghan, but you can't say you're pissed off with the outcome. You’re just stunned at his behaviour.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who tells you it’s pretty fucking pathetic to behave the way you have done tonight just because he’s hot now, but he tells you it’s lucky for you that he’s as forgiving as he is. Before he pauses and bites your neck lightly, whispering “although, maybe you do need showing who’s boss a little”. The palm of his hand lands on your ass in a sharp slap that rings around the kitchen and you’re instantly ashamed at the pornographic moan you let out.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who spins you round and shoves his tongue down your throat, years of pent up need and anger making itself clear in the way he barely lets you catch your breath, and the vicious way his hands yank your clothes off you, leaving you completely bare in front of him.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who stares down at you, he might be about to make sure you know you’re his, that you’ve made him wait long enough for you to get your head out of your ass and see he’s perfect for you, but fuck he can’t believe he’s finally seeing his child hood crush naked. You’re even better than he imagined. And he's imagined you a lot.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who kisses your neck loving saying how pretty you are and how he can’t believe you’re finally doing this. But when his hand slaps your tit and he tells you that sadly he still needs to punish you for being so fucking mean all these years, he almost loses his composure when you nod eagerly and even lean into the pain of his hand slapping your other tit.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who spins you back around, groping and slapping your ass until you’re a whining and whimpering mess in front of him, your ass pushing back against him trying to force him to ease the ache between your legs. His dick twitches when he sees you’re so turned on and desperate for him that you’re trickling down your thighs.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who watches as you shiver when you hear his belt being unbuckled and he lightly kicks your ankles to get you to spread your legs for him. He laughs at you and calls you pathetic because of how fast you comply with him but you don’t care, you need him, you’ll deal with him gloating later, right now you need him to fuck you.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who massages your pussy, whispering in your ear and asking if you’re ready to show him how much you’ve missed him. You only drip even more when you can’t get your words out and he lands a short, sharp slap to your cunt. The very wet slap that sounds round the room only making you blush even more and causes Jeonghan to lose any last scrap of sanity that he had.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who runs his dick through your dripping folds, pretty close to blowing his load already because he’s finally fucking his dream girl. But he can’t, he needs to show you the man he’s become and what you’ve been missing out on.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who slams his dick into you, bottoming out straight away and having to catch his breath as much as you from how fucking incredible you feel around him. He doesn’t give you chance to adjust though, just slams in and out of you, his hips slapping into your ass and his big hands groping your tits and pinching your nipples, his head dizzy from how impossibly tighter you get whenever the pains hurts a bit too good.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who knows you’re already both close to cumming, he doesn’t care, now he knows you’re into him, he’ll be coming back from uni a lot more often and this definitely won’t be the last time he feels you around him.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who slaps your ass as hard as he can, his breath hitching and hips faltering when you cry out in pleasure and your cunt grips him like a vice. He slaps your other ass cheek just to see that fucking incredible reaction again and fuck if it’s not the best sight in the world. To see you so lost in him and the way he’s making you feel, is everything he’s ever wanted.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who yanks your hair back, one hand holding your hair in his fist and the other tugging on your nipples whilst his dick doesn’t relent on your g-spot. His tongue licks a strip up your neck to your ear and he growls in your ear “to fucking cum on my dick baby, who’s the fucking little brat now huh?”.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who moans along with you when he feels you cum all over his dick, he’s barely having to move at this point, you’re fucking yourself back onto him like the desperate thing you are, just using your little brother’s best friend for your own pleasure with not a care in the world.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who spits in your ear to kneel on the fucking floor and to take everything he gives you. His heart leaps when you do as your told and kneel innocently in front of him, your eyes wide and mouth open because you know exactly what he’s going to do and you're desperate for it.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who fucks his dick with his fist for a few strokes, his hand on the back of your head and lining you up with his tip as he cums straight into your mouth, his fist never stopping as his tip rests on your bottom lip and he fills your mouth with his warm, salty release.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan whose thumb gently rubs your cheek as he holds it and tells you what a good girl you’ve been for him, smiling happily at the way you swallow everything he’s given you and open your mouth to show him it’s all gone.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who once he’s helped you to stand and cleaned you up, even zipping your jeans up for you, he helps you onto the kitchen counter and takes his place between your legs, his arms circling your waist and nose brushing yours.
Brother’s best friend Jeonghan who asks if you want to go on a date with him at the weekend and whose heart nearly stops when you giggle out a simple yes and kiss his lips like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
genre: soulmate au, fluff, tiny bit of suggestiveness
note: ugh I need a man like Jeonghan in my life I swear to god - and this is definetly inspired by every time he shows up at a fashion show and takes the internet by storm
Jeonghan had it easy when it came to his mark. When he had awoken on the day of his thirteenth birthday he had a small tattoo reading nothing less than: you look ethereal right above his right knee.
He had absolutely adored it from the second he had translated the words. His soulmate thought he was a handsome man, or at least she would at some point. He wore the tattoo like a badge of honor the first few years.
But after joining Pledis he was asked to hide it, for his own sake. If people knew what it said they might try and use it against him. So he had done exactly that without hesitation.
After Enhypen had joined Hybe he once in a while talked to Jake, their marks being the same made it easier to talk about the frustrations of how the hell they were supposed to find one another.
Especially since both were in English and not Korean.
Through the last few months it had gotten somewhat more difficult, especially after Jun’s soulmate had shown up at a fansign.
He was currently leaned in over Seungcheol's right arm, drawing small doodles on his skin with the smallest brush he had ever seen.
“Who do you think is next?” Seungcheol asked with a curious voice as his eyes bounced from person to person.
Jeonghan shrugged. “Honestly I don’t know. It’s not Minghao, his clock is still a few months away. Maybe Woozi or Wonwoo?”
Wonwoo had a small camera tattooed on his wrist, and they had a lot of shoots coming up, so they all thought that might be it. He was understandably a nervous wreck before every one of them, because of the guys constant teasing.
Jihoon had sampled a few notes from one of his soulmate's favorite songs, hoping it would lead her to him in their next comeback, so that seemed like a safe bet as well.
“Are you ever scared you won’t find her?” The leader asked in a serious tone.
Jeonghan sighed. “Honestly? Not really. I usually remind myself that if I wouldn’t meet her, well then nothing would have appeared on my skin. Plus there’s no need to think negative like that. It happens when it happens”
He pulled away from the leader's arm, satisfied with the plate of food he had drawn there. “What do you think?” He asked curiously.
Seungcheol laughed. “I think she’s gonna kill me when she sees it, that looks delicious and my girl is a foodie, so now she’s gonna crave hot pot for the next few days”
“Let’s get Mingyu to cook the kids some dinner, shall we?” He said before grabbing his friends arm and dragging him along to the large kitchen.
“I’m so sorry but the last time you made it, it ended up being way too sweet!” Seungkwan as good as yelled after his hyung that was currently struggling with pots and pans in the kitchen.
Behind him bloomed flowers as they always did as the jeju native walked through the world, and as Junhui entered the shared space, he plucked one to smoothly slide it behind his soulmate's ear, right before kissing her nose lovingly.
“Well no way in hell I’ll be using my soulmate as a guineapig, that’s what I have you idiots for” Mingyu answered quickly before waving the younger man away.
“I thought we were doing hot pot today?” Jeonghan said as he sat down at the table.
“That was the point, but someone got a new craving on his wrist and decided to switch it for lasagna instead,” Vernon said without looking up from his phone once.
All the two parents could do was roll their eyes.
You were beautiful.
It was something the people around you had told you since you were little. Plucked out of a fairytale and thrown into the real world to live a normal mortal life.
You didn’t mind it, you had quickly learned it came with privileges that some didn’t have. But sometimes it would be nice if people saw you not only for your beauty, but for what was laying beneath.
It had however made your career, one that you spent traveling the world with people as absolutely chaotic and goofy as they were beautiful. You loved everything about the tough industry, because you didn’t mind a challenge, a game so to speak. Maybe that was because you usually won.
When you were thirteen the tattoo had shown up on your ribs, luckily it was easy enough to hide due to the small and delicate font the universe had decided to use.
You’re a chaotic one, aren’t you?
And whoever he was, he was right. You were clumsy, known for falling over your feet when you weren’t on a runway. Known for laughing the loudest, making bets with the models and sometimes even the designers.
You loved that your job made it possible to actually meet people in different industries, and made it easier for him to find you.
“So where are you going today?” your sister asked through the facetime call while you were in the process of packing your suitcase.
“Paris, followed by Milan” You answered as you sat on top of the small thing to get it to actually close.
“And nothing fun to report so far?” She then said with a raised brow.
You laughed, and almost slipped when you tried to stand up. “No, nothing”
She sighed. “He’s really not making it easy huh?”
You shrugged. No he wasn’t but it either meant that fashion had no interest for him, which would definitely take some time getting used to, or that maybe he was just as preoccupied trying to get your attention as well.
Fashion week was always a somewhat stressful time for the guys, those that had brand deals were currently doing their best, trying to get from Seoul to either New York, Paris or Milan, some were even visiting more than one of the fashion capitals.
“Vernon, are you sure you have everything?” Jeonghan said with that mother hen voice, always looking out for the younger ones.
The man only nodded before adjusting the cap that usually sat atop of his head when he wasn’t on stage, all the while Jeonghan checked in with the rest.
He was going to Paris with Mingyu that was followed by two weeks off to do whatever their hearts desired. He hadn’t really decided what he was in the mood for, but maybe taking it one step at the time was the way to go.
You were being ushered into the large venue, and the steps and streets outside were packed, making it almost impossible to go in and out, even though you were a part of the show.
“What is going on out there?” You asked the nearest girl as you pulled away the sweater you were currently wearing, all the while people around you flocked to pull away the remaining layers of clothing, leaving you in your underwear.
“Apperently they’ve invited an idol” she said with a smirk.
“Oh? Isn’t that kind of a given?” You asked and one of the girls you usually walked with answered.
“No, not that kind of idol. A k-pop idol, their fandoms are dedicated on a whole other level. Apparently people have been out there since the early morning hours.”
“Oh yeah?” You said with a smirk as you pulled on a robe to go to hair and make up. “Which idol?”
They both shrugged. “I hope it’s Mingyu, he’s from Seventeen and sometimes model for Calvin Klein, and let me just say he is fine as fuck!”
“My money is on RM or J-hope, with that crowd it almost has to be one of the BTS guys”
“Well let’s go check shall we?” You said with a raised brow and a mischievous smile. Before they could protest you were already running towards the back of the stage, hoping to get a glimpse of one or more of these so called idols.
The three of you looked over the room, but it was difficult to get an exact look at who was there and who wasn’t with all the cameras and reporters that ran through the room.
“I can’t see shit!” one of the girls said, you didn’t clock who because just as you were about to take a step back to get a better look you stumbled in that long ass silk robe of yours, and before you knew it you were falling.
He had found his spot, and now it was just an awkward wait. He had a translator by his side, but right now he kind of wished it had been Joshua instead. He was always the best at making him feel the most comfortable in these types of situations.
So instead of the typical small talk he just sat there and watched the people interact in the room. He occasionally said hi to the people who sat down next to him, and sometimes even posed for a picture.
And then he heard a shriek followed by a somewhat loud bang. He followed the sound, and right there at the beginning of the stage laid a model, not yet in hair or make up, not even in her outfit from what he could see.
No she was laying on her back, laughing her ass off all the while she was being pulled back behind the backdrop by what he could only assume was her feet.
But god whoever she was, he was instantly smitten. So much that he had to take a few deep breaths.
A few interviews and reels later and the show was starting. He didn’t even really look at the clothes, instead he was searching every woman who came out on the catwalk for you.
When you finally stepped out he searched your body for any hint of a mark that didn’t match his and when he didn’t find one, it was almost as if he could breathe a little easier.
He had to kick himself mentally for being so delusional that you might actually be his, but he couldn’t help it. Hoshi had said Pink’s laugh was all it took, and then he knew. And your mischievous smile, had to be the 8th wonder of the world.
He was certain that for every step you took, for every outfit and hair change, he fell a little more in love with you, and for the first time ever, he couldn’t wait for the after party.
You were still in the last outfit you had worn down the runway, a long figure hugging black silk gown, the stilettos were also still on, although you would die for a pair of flats right about now.
He had spotted you instantly and was now walking straight for you, he was constantly straightening his jacket all while trying to get his long locks behind his ears. God, why didn’t he have a mint or something?
He took a deep breath before he tapped your shoulder, and as you turned he just completely froze. Your eyes took his breath away, and he couldn't help but rub his hands against each other, but as he opened his mouth nothing came out.
You were used to people coming up after the shows, wanting to introduce themselves, maybe even ask you out, but this, he, was something else.
His long locks framed his face perfectly, his eyes were kind, and if you were being honest, he looked like something that had been plucked from a fairytale, just as you had always been told you were.
Your eyes searched his face, and you were sure it was mirroring what you felt. He was just as nervous as you were, but he felt like home somehow. You knew deep in your soul there was nothing to be afraid of with him, but now all you feared was that it wasn’t him.
Just like him you opened your mouth to speak, not noticing the stairs you were getting from the people around you, but absolutely nothing came out. You could sense your friends, your colleagues, were trying to interfere, but none of you answered them.
“You look ethereal” you whispered.
It was so stupid… he knew that already. Hell the whole world probably knew that, you could’ve said anything at all and you chose that. Something as superficial as you had feared your own mark would be.
You cringed at yourself, taking a step back, and as if on queue you slipped for the second time that night, but this time on the silk fabric of the dress that was currently pooled around your feet.
However you never got really far, cause he had your wrist in his hand within a split second.
“You’re a chaotic one, aren’t you?” he asked, and your eyes flew to meet his. They were already filled with tears and then he pulled you close.
Your arms snaked around his neck as he pulled you close, accidently lifting you in the process, and there in the middle of models, champagne and designer clothes, he had found you.
The cameras around you clicked and if it weren’t for your closed eyes hidden behind his hair, you’re pretty sure you would’ve been blinded.
Security had grabbed the two of you and dragged you behind the scenes, because the cameras and the journalists had really gone insane. More than what they usually were.
It wasn’t every day the meeting of one's soulmate was captured on camera, and throw in an idol and a world renowned model, and the paparazzi were quickly out for blood.
You sat down at one of the benches with a silent fuck. He was by your side in a second.
“Are you okay?” he sat there on his knees before you, and you were certain no man had ever looked better. You could almost imagine…
You shook your head, trying your best to get that filthy fantasy out of your brain. He smirked at you and you saw how his eyes darkened. Oh so he was no angel then? But more a devil in disguise, and just when you didn’t think he could be any more perfect.
His hands slid around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “You like me like this, don’t you?” he whispered in Korean.
“You are very pretty on your knees, I’ll admit that” you responded in his mother tongue.
He pulled back a tiny bit, taken by surprise. He raised a brow before he dived closer to that long neck of yours, and he whispered along your skin: “Only for you my love”
You giggled, a sound that made him shiver, a sound he promised he would steal from you whenever he had the chance.
“Can I whisk you away from here?” He asked as his eyes searched yours for any kind of doubt, but he never found any. Instead he found what he had been singing about for all of his life, love.
“You can steal me anywhere you want as long as I get to lose these shoes”
He pulled away from you and took a mental picture of the pout you displayed in the process. He lifted your stiletto and rested it against his chest while he unbuckled the first strap that was hugging your angle, and then the other.
He then pulled you up and told his managers to inform the designers that he would make sure your dress was returned with his borrowed outfit in the morning.
As you gathered your things you took one last glance at yourself in the mirror, and you had never looked more radiant than you did right now. And when you returned to him he stood with your stilettos in hand, and his own shoes were now removed, and he was wearing nothing but his socks.
You laughed so loud and pure you almost fell over. “What, what, what?” he asked somewhat panicked with wide eyes, but he himself couldn’t help but laugh with you.
You shook your head. “You’re amazing” you said before kissing his cheek. He quickly took your hand and helped you step into his shoes. He took off the jacket he was wearing and draped it over your shoulders.
The two of you walked out together, and the people out there were absolutely losing it. You had gotten used to some sort of recognition, but this was next level. Jeonghan kept a hand on yours that was clinging to his arm.
His eyes never left you, constantly checking to see if you were okay, all the while he waved to the fans that had been standing there for hours on end.
And when you hid your head in the crook of his neck he was sure he had died and gone to heaven.
The two of you entered his hotel room, and he sent his manager out to get you some food. Luckily it didn’t seem like you were especially picky, you at least hadn’t made any protest when he asked if you were up for Korean food.
You threw yourself onto the bed. “I really don’t hope you have to return the socks as well” You raised your arm to point down at his feet and he chuckled.
“Even if I have to pay for it, it’s worth it” his smile was somewhat crooked, but there was no doubt that he meant every word.
“Ca-can I see it?” You asked nervously as you bit on your lip. He raised a brow suggestively.
“I show you mine, if you show me yours?”
You swallowed once and nodded.
Jeonghan pulled at his shirt and started to loosen his pants.
“Oh shit don’t tell me it’s on your ass?!” He laughed so loudly and so suddenly you were completely caught by surprise.
“No, oh god could you imagine?” He kept laughing until the pants were now pooled around his feet.
He took a deep breath as he saw the usual black ink now colored gold. “This still somehow feels like a dream” he said as he looked up at you. Your tears had already fallen freely, and he was there by your side in a second.
“Hey my love, it’s okay. I’m right here” his thumb caressed your cheek as he kissed your forehead gently.
“My turn” you said after he had moved back a bit.
Instead of turning to him you turned your back towards him, gently removing your hair from the back zipper of the dress. “I need your help for this”
This time it was Jeonghan's time to swallow once or twice before he could even think about lifting his hands to accommodate you in your request.
It had been less than twelve hours since you had been throwing your clothes in every direction in a room filled with almost one hundred people, but this somehow felt much more intimate.
As he unzipped the dress his fingertips came into contact with the naked skin beneath your dress. He could feel how you shivered beneath him, and for a second he had to close his eyes and collect himself.
You pulled the dress down around your hips, revealing your almost completely naked torso. A shift move of your arm and there they were, those words he had spoken so casually, now etched into your skin in gold.
Without even thinking about it he reached out and touched it.
You giggled in response, and that was enough to lift the mood within the room. His eyes were sparkling like little galaxies when he looked at you.
A full rundown of your lives, a ton of food and a shower later and you were laying on his chest only wearing a robe. His hand was tangled in your hair, softly pulling it all the while the movement was the cause of the goosebumps that were now scattered all over your body.
Jeonghan decided it might be time to check his phone, and 89 unanswered phone calls were on full display, each of those 12 brothers you had now heard so much about had tried calling almost 10 times each, some more than others.
He sighed and kissed your lips, slowly as if he was savoring the taste of you.
“Are you ready for this?”
You pulled him close and kissed him. “Bring it my love”
So he made a joined facetime call with all of them, and as soon as the two of you popped up on their screens, the guys all started half screaming and half teasing of the pair of you.
Oh yeah, you were definitely gonna feel at home in this chaos.
