synopsis. pretending not to know is similar to covering yourself with a blanket as a way to protect yourself from monsters, both give you a fake sense of security
paring(s). lee jihoon x f!reader x kwon soonyoung
genre(s). non-idol au, uni students au, romance, smut, angst, smau/half-written
warning(s). mentions of smoking (no characters doing the action, just a singular mention of a cigarette)
wc. 1.3k
a/n. very short woozi pov to explain his side of things (partially), minor syntactic edits made :)
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› 6 ~ four of clubs
When Jihoon first saw you there weren’t fireworks going off, actually, the only thing going off was the arrow on his annoyance scale. He knew four people in this house, which in retrospect wasn’t a small number. Soonyoung, Jun, Wowoo, friends that dragged him here, and Hansol, junior who knew not to bother him while he was pretending to be part of the furniture. The school year just started and he was already done with social gatherings and blushing freshmen asking for his number.
He is full of regret, bursting on the seams as he clutches on his cards. Game night, something his friends forced upon him, was turning out to be a big pain in his ass. He wasn’t paying much attention to both the game or people around him—but there was an itch behind his eye to raise his eyes and look around. Like he was experiencing an awful sense of deja vu running through his veins, a pre-recorded destiny waiting for him to push it in motion.
He lifted his head and saw you, the you who was awkwardly sitting parallel to him at the high table filled with stale chips and soda drinks and a lonely stack of cards that weren't being used. He was pretty sure the scene you were painting by just sitting there among the smoke of a half burned cigarette was unknowingly the essence of some old painting.
You were pretty despite the slight furrow in your brows as you looked down on your cards: were you given a bad hand? That all made you more endearing, your earnings were crooked, eyeliner smudged and shirt slipping off your shoulder. The serenity you embodied a moment ago was broken by an arm wrapping around your shoulders, tugging the shirt back up to your neck. Some pretty boy sat down next to you and just like that the predisposition of greatness disappeared.
True to his statement, the short moment didn't send butterflies to his stomach. He was satisfied with the single glance and returned back to his bubble.
That was it, or so he thought. But a stray four of clubs that fell out of your hands in the middle of the game had other plans. It nestled right next to his left foot, numbered side up. He would’ve chuckled considering that was the card he needed to win, and then disappear in some corner but as you kneeled to grab it you hit your forehead against the table. He winced at the same time as you let out a painful whimper, fingers pressing onto the possible bump that was forming beneath your skin.
And without thinking Jihoon just grabbed the fallen card for you, handing it to you.
Jihoon didn’t feel his heart skipping a beat when your eyes met, he didn’t feel his knees buckle when you offered a sheepish grin and quiet thanks. Jihoon—did, however, offer you a half smile when you asked if he saw your card.
The second time he saw you, it was months later, this time there wasn’t a pretty boy hanging off your shoulders – it was just you. The you, who were standing next to a large ficus plant, frozen in time as you glared at your cup. This time, he offered a greeting – short and dry, but open at the same time. You returned the dryness, but he doesn’t remember much of the conversation to be honest. You spoke about music, he was sure of that at least.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know them? They are so cool!”
Despite the Seunkwans laugh in the background, Jihoon could hear the disbelief in your voice. If he had concentrated enough he probably could have heard the little gasp you let out before his comment not knowing some of some band, he long ago forgot the name of. Perhaps he wasn’t that good of a listener but it didn’t matter, you seemed pleased with his short responses and critical add-ons.
You exchanged numbers, but not socials. He wasn’t sure why but perhaps a part of you didn’t want the loudness of one particular person to scare you off. You count that day as your first meeting, he never corrected you.
Jihoon wasn’t swept off his feet by you, not really. He helped you study and even made it a weekly thing, yeah. And at first it was just that, speaking strictly about school, projects and an occasional dry joke. In his head he added you on the list of people he can speak freely with without receiving a dirty look.
Jihoon didn’t get tongue twisted even if your shoulder brushed against his over and over again as he was explaining something to you. He just continued on, made a note to write a study guide for you—despite never taking that class. This thing you had was just an addition to his schedule, a motivation to not lock up in his studio but rather to spend time outside.
Jihoon didn't lose breath when he saw you laugh at his especially funny albeit dry joke. Truly, your bright smiling face and melodic giggling didn't have any effect on him. He just chuckled along with you and took a sip of his coffee that was suddenly too sweet for his liking.So what if he never mentioned it to anybody? In fact that just proved you weren’t making it hard to distinguish between annoyance and passiveness. That was kinda wrong, he never found you annoying?
That confusing feeling began to grow only just recently. Somewhere between forgetting to answer your text and missing you. It was weird—unlike him when he was with any other friend or acquaintance. He knew that was a fact yet he just didn’t want to admit to himself he favored you over others.
So the cycle began. There were days when he let himself embrace the warmth you offered. Replying the moment he saw your message, his fingers even started typing out every single thought he had that was connected to you. It became a reflex on those days.
However, there were days when just the thought of your flushed face made him aggravated and filled with a weird sense of guilt.
Guilt. It was an emotion towards oneself about what appears to be breakage of personal moral codex and therefore causing harm to someone, something or oneself.
Jihoon, once again pretended not to know why, the same way he didn’t know what kind of feelings were flourishing towards you, or in the same way he doesn't notice the true meaning behind the glimmer of your eyes when they meet his and the same exact way he turned a blind eye on the way Soonyoung looked at him back in high school.
The wish to not acknowledge the play of feelings that was going on wasn’t the only thing that stopped him from telling others. Soonyoung’s and his own particularities were there too, one wrong step and the whole history of how things become and are could be crumbling down once again.
Jihoon was bad at communicating, he was bad at listening, bad at confrontation but he was good at yearning. Wrote countless songs about in fact, wove it in hundred tracks and even more notes. So he will yearn, in that useless cycle – hoping something breaks it.
But there was one thing he didn’t expect to happen when it finally broke, it was you in his studio shivering despite the air condition turned off. You were never shy, sure you were awkward at times and coy at others but never this reticent.
He expected Soonyoung to be the reason it breaks but not in this way, never in this way. And for the first time Jihoon wasn’t pretending not to know, he genuinely didn’t know what was it that caused you to bite your lip so hard or what made Soonyoung teasing words sound so chilling.
The feeling of deja vu returned but this time he unconsciously realized that it was not greatness what it was alluding to.
I have been editing a single chapter since the beginning of March, if you see a mistake, don't point it out.. I am on my wit's edge. May this month be over already, it's been hundred and twenty seven days and it's not over. Thank you for your patience. <3
synopsis. running in circles means finish line will always bring you to start again, you never taken yourself as a someone who runs in circles
paring(s). lee jihoon x f!reader x kwon soonyoung
genre(s). non-idol au, uni students au, romance, smut, angst, smau/half-written
word count. ~3.7k
warning(s). mature themes, alcohol consumption, dirty jokes, bodly harm (mentioned—no real implications of doing it)
a/n. Sry for the wait, there is not much editing here, just polishing :)
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› 5 ~ finding four-leaf clovers in concrete jungle
The bright lights of the billboards were making it hard for you to distinguish between Soonyoung and non-Soonyoung individuals. So you were stuck in between aimlessly waiting for him to find you or for you to go blind from trying to see his bleached head.
You try to remember why you agreed to this in the first place, but you draw blanks. Or perhaps you simply wished you didn’t remember, because admitting that it was because of mixed signals Jihoon was giving you is too pathetic even for you. The hot-cold treatment was not your preferred foreplay, cancelling your study dates sessions yet sending witty texts in the middle of the night, totally unprovoked. Only to turn up and be the most deadpan person in the cafe filled with zombie-like students, somehow looking more bored than them. Letting the almost awkward atmosphere develop just to crack a flirty joke when you were about to take a sip of your coffee.
He was killing you with this temperature play, it was constant exchange of two states, getting the ick and being insanely down bad–opposite ends of the spectrum which fried your brain just thinking about it.
It was an insincere move on your part, to accept date plans as a distraction. But, in your humble defence, he was taking you to stuff your face with street food and spend your money on useless things. He surely didn’t mean well, he probably just wanted to get in your pants–scratch that, it made you feel even more guilty.
He's been blowing up your phone with stupid ideas of dates that you truly thought were pulled out of some dating magazine from 2010 he found in his sister’s closet. He almost took you to the aquarium, the almost factor being there due to his awful planning skills and buying wrong tickets for both the train to get there and the entrance tickets. Oh, how glad you were when he told you that the aquarium date was too high in the romantic scale for you, it would have definitely made you lose it and cancel seeing him altogether.
“Ya? Earth is calling, they need you back? Or has Mars already taken you for good? Are you already replaced with your own clone? Am I speaking to a clone? Should we kiss so I can check. For science of course.”
That seemed to snap you out of your inner moral battle, blinking yourself out of daze the glaring luminescence put you in and focusing on the man before you. He was wearing a shit-eating grin that matched his words to the last letter, wrapped up in a jean jacket and black pants with a small million of pockets. He dressed up, you realize, exchanging the usual obnoxious sweatpants or ripped jeans for an actual pair of pants— albeit weird and a casual yet iron pressed shirt tied together with, once again, a non-ripped blue jean jacket. You hated admitting he looked nice, so you didn’t.
“Ha, funny,” you reply, mouth moving in a sarcastic stride, offering a bite instead of greeting. The way he was looking at you was too intense, you can't handle it, “You are late.”
“Late? Or were you just too early?”, he says, moving to stand by your side.
You stay silent, not proving him right nor proving him wrong. He uses the momentary silence to glance over you. Eyes taking you in, from bottom of your solace to the top of your messy up-do. He smiles, a subtle squint of his cheeks lifting up to cover his eyes and you see a glimmer of amusement playing in them.
“Pretty, did you dress up for me?”
He really doesn’t shut up.
“In your dreams.”
“You don’t want to know what you wear in my dreams.”
He must have seen the retort you were preparing at the tip of your tongue before it could escape because in the next second he was pulling you with him and walking into the busy streets. His hand was warm, calloused and comforting amidst the crowd's loudness.
Your steps fall into following the pace he set, walking around the shopping district without any hurry. Yet there was an underlying sense of rush in your muscles, tensing up every time he would stop and whisper something in your ear. Wherever it was a comment on the people around you two or a push into the direction of a trinket that caught his attention, it kept you on your toes.
“Did you see that? I swear that statue definitely talked to me!”
He tells you after leaving the fancy shop filled with home decorations. The bright lit up maze and the judging daze from the cashier worker was enough to turn you away the moment you stepped in. Yet somehow, Soonyoung convinced you—or in other words went in before you and ignored your attempts at leaving the premises.
“Oh, really? And what did it say—that you are its type? Maybe it even winked at you too?”
The words roll off your tongue as you glance back at the garden statues, trying to see the one he was talking about. You give up soon enough, not wanting to stay around the shop for too long and risk looking like a shop-liffter that the worker thought you were.
“Maybe it did. At least someone around here isn't ignoring my charming personality!” He groans out, shuffling behind you.
“Oh no, what shall I do? It seems I got a competition from a chunk of rock?”
“Depends? Are you planning to fight for me?”, he questions, getting in front of you, walking backwards so he can keep looking at you. His focused gaze makes you nervous, it's easier when he is by your side, you can pretend there is no real heaviness in his flirting.
“Nah, I will let the bird have you.”
“Ouch, that hurts! Especially since it told me I had excellent taste in company—but I am starting to think it got it wrong.” He pulls on the lapel of his jacket, face souring in a mock hurt.
“Are you using your hallucination to hit on me?”
Your words brought him back into action, “Is it working?”
“Keep that up and I might start to believe you like me for more than my tits.”
“Who said I don't?”
Against your better judgment you unlocked the imaginary lock you had on your tongue, returning the silly banter twice as hard. No matter the peculiar words that came out of his blabbering mouth.
You realized that most of the things he said didn't make any coherent sense if you took them as they came. So if you wanted to understand him you had to look at certain things from his point of view. He didn’t speak like a poet, nor were his words too simple, they weren’t particularly strange either–it was as if he spoke, not with the intention of being understood but this urge to express his thoughts outside his inner self. For him that was enough, but you saw the glimmer in the edge of his eyes when you caught on.
You didn’t stay too long to mull over if it was just the shine from the street like or something more. Because, much to your shock, you quickly found yourself laughing at his stupid jokes earning a few concerned looks from onlookers when you burst out laughing in the middle of the street.
Tugging on his hand in the midst of giggles, especially when you wanted to stop at a particular shop or when you felt too tired to continue. It was nice, refreshing almost, the way he followed your rhythm instead of rushing you forward. Slowing down, commenting on weird jewelry that caught your eye yet never letting go of your hand.
“It looks like when those desert bugs roll their poop into a ball.”, he says about a chunky pendant you were holding on, making you drop it like it was what he was describing.
“What about this one?”, you hold up a star pendant for his examination.
“Not bad-not bad, what about this?”
You audibly gasp when he holds up a goldfish charm, gold and transcendent-like under the harsh lights, almost glowing. Its eyes poking out of its head like separate balls added on, one of them shakes in his unsteady hand, much to your terror so you make him put it down before the shopkeeper can blame you for damaging it.
The soft clack of its weight when Soonyoung placed it back on the stand is nothing compared to the barely audible rolling of its now missing eyes down the stall and onto the rough pavement.
You make eye contact and run off, giggling like fools. The act of rushing out of the shop's sight alerted the man who was supposedly looking over it, yelling after you two.
Jumping over the holes in the concrete pavement, trailing around the delicate thought of actually having the time of your life rather than looking for an escape. You get caught up in his enthusiasm and forget to overthink. Having more fun than you expected, and for a moment, you stop thinking about Jihoon entirely.
You run till you can't breathe anymore, Soonyoung still snickers while you catch your breath, throwing some stupid comment about the sheer ugliness of the pendant and how the man should be lucky that it can't no longer be on display.
And when you bite into the softness of street snacks the soreness you feel in your leg muscles disappear. Sharing a drink with Soonyoung feels easy, almost as easy as the conversation that follows it is. Somewhere along the teasing how his cheeks flush pink after one class you notice how his eyes sparkle when he laughs. How his voice pitches up when he speaks too fast, his accent coming through messily.
How he leans into your personal space without flinching and wipes away the red sauce from your lower with a swipe of his fingers. It makes your head spin and you know it isn’t from the alcohol. It's too early in the night for it but he insisted—you can't eat meat without drinking something.
The city hums below your feet as the vibrations of passing traffic shakes the plastic chairs you were on as the smoky smell wraps around you two.
“You are kind of annoying, you know that?”, you say to him as he pours you another shot.
“You already told me that one…You know, not many get to sit so close to me after telling me off.” , he tells you with a crooked smile, clicking your glasses together.
“Oh don't act like you don't enjoy it, I can feel you shaking from excitement every time I bite back.”
“Am not,” he drowns the drink in one shot, ‘I am just alive…and a bit terrified.”
He sighs out, draping his arm around the back of your chair.
“How terrific—just how I like them.”
“Oh please, you really are setting that tone for the rest of the night?”, he inquired, scrunching his face, “Shouldn't the first date be all cute and blushing?”
“Hey, you are the one who slided in my DMs with a request for bodily harm.”
“...I walked right into that one.”
“You are lucky I like your face,” you tease and he gets caught on it like it's his life line, pulling your chair closer to him
“Lucky?” His voice drops a bit, maybe it’s alcohol or the smoke that makes it even more dizzy than it was supposed to be, “I don't believe in luck, call it hard work to twist fate in my favour–just like how easily you get under my skin.”
“You don't believe in luck? That's weird, you seem like a guy who thrives on the slim probability of the chance everything will work out.”
“Nah, some might call me a perfectionist with how little I rely on chance.”
He says you get under his skin easily but what's more easy is how you don’t notice the persistent flirting as nothing more than his personality. Or how he shuffles around your boundaries just slightly enough. Enough to keep the push and pull going—playful on the surface and borderline edging you with how much yet little he gives you. He is exactly like you predicted him to be, distracting, demanding of attention, and overwhelming.
You are kind of glad for the alcohol in your bloodstream.
Soonyoung likes where this is going: he told you so after taking a spoonful of your third dessert for the night.
“Call me pleasantly surprised,” he mumbles out, the plastic spoon peeking out of his mouth making his words come off as a comment not meant to be heard.
“Okay, pleasantly surprised. Why do you keep stealing my desert when you have your own?”
His mouth twitches in a half smile as you swat his hand away from your frozen yogurt—his pathetic attempt of taking it all.
“First of all, I paid for them so I got to at least try them and second…I don't know where I was going with this.”
He trails off, gaze moving past you.
“Yeah yeah, but why are you pleasantly surprised, pleasantly surprised?”
“Look! There is a candied fruit there, we gotta try it!”, he exclaims, pulling you out of your seat and towards the stall. You almost dropped your frozen yogurt cup that was slowly getting mushier by the second.
“Slow down, you are going to make me drop it on myself!”
“Eat faster!”
You do end up dropping the iced treat but on his shoes, much to your joy and his despair. He fake cries that they were his favorite pair—which earns a disgusted look from you, they were quite ugly after all.
He pouts for a long minute before deciding to ‘forgive’ you. Of course not without a rightful compensation. You buy him candied fruit as a peace treaty despite feeling that you were the one wronged here. It was your yogurt that was lost here, but you bite back the complaint once he plops a whole candied strawberry in his mouth, cheeks puffing out in a way that reminds you too much of a hamster.
After that you decide to call it a night. Soonyoung hand finds home on your lower back as he leads you towards the bus stop, and only then do you realize you walked over the whole block. Despite not having done much shopping as you initially thought, barely going in half of the shops, you feel satisfied with how you spent your evening.
“See, this wasn't so bad after all—good thing I was dedicated to getting you out. Next time I will be sure to check the date of the tickets before I buy them!”
He tells you—you pretend you don't notice the subtle slip in of the next time.
“So this was your idea of a successful first date? Must I say at the very least I don't smell of chlorine nor of stinky fish.”
He sits next to you on the bench, pulling you into a half hug as to let your head reflectively slip onto his shoulder. One of his hands finding your shoulder to rest upon, patting it softly as consulting you. Soonyoung was overly touchy and you didn't know how to feel about that, the way his body radiated warmth as he relaxed.
“What? Don’t tell me you didn't have fun, you are fed, smiling and uhh, hydrated too.”
He points on the soda can you been nursing for a past half an hour as you wait for your bus.
“How charming, almost made me forget how crazy you actually are.”
“Me? Crazy?’, he echoes, in a mock-offended tone, “Please, I prefer eccentric with a flair for dramatic jokes!”
“Right right, you talk with statues, start the conversation by asking me to put out my cigarettes on you and make sex jokes like a thirteen year old boy.”
He chuckles, the one you now recognize as a warning sign that a joke is incoming but this time he swallows it down. You see the way his throat tightened, like he is physically holding back his words. Must have been a rather unsavoring joke for even him to stop it before it came to existence.
“Yeah, but crazy keeps me from remembering things I shouldn't. Maybe you should try it out—you seem to be quite the overthinker.”
You don't let the slight jab take the attention from the heavy weight of his words. There is something about the ease he wears, like the jacket that is a size too big. His jokes hide his thoughts like a blanket that doesn't cover your feet fully—but what could he be hiding?
Or perhaps it wasn’t that he was withholding something, but rather just wanted to appear as a careless persona who takes everything as it is at surface level.
You throw away that thought, he is simply odd, the night you had was enough to prove he wasn't a creep—at least in your head he seems to be climbing in the ranks of decent people. You wonder what Seungkwan will have to say on that subject.
“I take it back, you aren't crazy. Maybe impulsive but you know how to pick your words carefully when it matters.”
“Are you calling me smart?” He asks, tilting his head, making it fall much closer to your face. You can feel his breath on your cheek.
“More like—you are chatty yet reticent.”
“Mysterious then. Just admit it, I am so entertaining that it made your head spin and now you don't know how to act.”He retorts, tone teasing as he presses further into you and his lips graze your chin.
“More like dodgy,”, you pause, looking him over, leaning back, trying to put some distance yet failing miserably “—and a little bit hot.”
“Dangerous words. You make me think I’ve got time.” he says it too easily — too quiet, almost thoughtful, before realizing the weight of it. He takes the soda from your hands, taking a slow sip, deflecting with a smirk.
“Well you do?” You say, looking around at the empty bus stop, flickering lamp posts, even the convenience store lacked its usual late customers, like you were proving a point of having nothing better to do than talk.
He chuckles, throwing the now empty soda can at the overflowing bin, it bounces off and rolls down the road, only to be crushed by the car passing it over.
“Wait...You have a car, why didn't you drive here”
“Jihoon has it. He is out of town for some project or something.”
“Oh...”
The silence falls among the two of you, there is a slight buzzing of the convenience store fridge, yet all it does is tease the growing tension. The elephant in the room, a person you haven't dared mention tonight. Neither you nor him said anything about Jihoon, hell you still unsure what they are or where you stand it all that.
Your body tenses up but this time for a different reason, and suddenly his hand on your shoulder burns.
“Thinking about me, I hope.”
“Don't get too greedy, I think I got my weeks worth of exposure to you. Might join you on the crazy, I mean, eccentric side if I got more of it—and that sounds even more tiring than this night.ʼ
“You speak like him. Guess it makes sense.”
“What?”
At least you know you aren't the only one affected by the mention of Jihoon, because Soonyoung moves his arm around your shoulder back into his lap.
His grin is second too late too. ‘Jihoon gets annoyed with this kind of stuff too.’ He shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his pants.
Shrugging off with a weak laugh—
“Nothing, a bad joke.”
The bus finally turned around the corner, the brakes hissing as the vehicle stopped. You don't make a move to get up before he does, perhaps hoping he explains the 'joke', maybe adds in actually one to ease back into the banter. He doesn't so you are on your feet.
“Huh, it seems you are on a roll with bad jokes tonight. Saved from embarrassment by public transport, how convinient—and you said you don't believe in luck.”
You step into the bus, climbing up at the back seats, not like it was busy, but still liking the privacy it offered.
“You still laughed at most of them. And maybe I am a bit out of practice, the alcohol wore out pretty quickly for my taste.”
“You need liquid courage? Now, that's funny.”
“What can I say, women with smiles like yours make me tongue-tied. And you are pretty distracting by itself. Makes me forget why I am here.”
“Careful now, I will start thinking you are some nervous virgin scoring his first successful date.”
He snorts, letting his head hit the backrest of the seat. “We both know that isn't the truth.”
You smile, winking playfully at him. Something in you told you he wasn't the kind that cowered away from his conquests, much less, you find it more lighter to indulge in such topic.
“That, you are doing it again. How is a guy supposed to act when you throw such innuendos?”
He looks over at you, gaze heavy.
“Perhaps like this, pretending I am cool, when inside I am ten different kinds of lost. It pisses me off how hot you look when you're tethering between being annoyed and being amused by me.”
You laugh softly, the sound warm and soft. Surprising even you, it catches on like a spark. Neither of you say anything, maybe you were tired or perhaps you felt like saying anything more will break the delicate motion of this whole thing.
You recognize your stop and stand up, he follows you towards the bus door, waiting patiently for it to open. Before you step out, he voices out his 'concluding' thoughts.
“You are both into it and definitely out of it at the same time. Funny, I seem to find that kind of people just my thing.”
You are stepping out of the bus before you can fully process his words. Left to pounder them as the door closes right in your face, almost mocking your timing and separating both of you.
How hypocritical— is what comes to you, watching the bus disappear into the night. It seems Soonyoung knew when to hit home without knowing.
Lore drop, one of the first groups I started staning was enhypen, my first album was orange blood, I discovered seventeen because of them. I can't even process the news, this is so sudden and sus. What is life anyway...
Funny enough, the first kpop fanfic I wrote was twilight inspired enhypen fic. It was a parody of old wattpad fics but it did recover my love for writting and it was okay-ish 'quality'.
We (my friend and I) had bulletpoints of how the plot would develop, but we lost interest and I didn't want to continue, especially not on my own.
Lore drop, one of the first groups I started staning was enhypen, my first album was orange blood, I discovered seventeen because of them. I can't even process the news, this is so sudden and sus. What is life anyway...
synopsis. early mornings of a college student are usually caffeine inspired followed by headache from upcoming deadlines, yours is bit different, wrapped up in salty fries and loud air conditioner blasting in your face
paring(s). lee jihoon x f!reader x kwon soonyoung
genre(s). non-idol au, uni students au, romance, smut, angst, smau/half-written
word count. 2.3k
warning(s). mature themes, explicit words, pretty tame in comparison with last one
a/n. I will have to fix masterlist later and connect the new versions, probably tonight
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› 3 ~ ice cream commercial
Once again you have no idea how you ended up in his car, out of all the places, all while the sun peaked out behind tall buildings.Your fingers move as you respond to Seungkwan, but you give up on trying to explain before you could even start, placing the reminder to talk to him later in the back of your head.
You reach for your hand bag absentmindedly, going through your keychain stack in hopes of finding the familiar star, hoping to trace its edges in some kind of revelation but you find not that relief; so you sigh out, looking out of the window and focusing on the montage of the panorama switching as you pass by.
The city was relatively quiet for six almost seven in the morning, there were some cars and grumpy workers passing by, some late night birds returning home and stray dogs sniffing around for their next meal. The guy behind the driving wheel, Soonyoung, was humming along to some popular song on the radio as you gazed upon the waking city in deep thought, except you weren’t thinking much of coherent thoughts anyway, it was a jumbled mess.
First off, you find you don’t mind the way your night slash morning is turning out to be. Soonyoung was quite the friendly guy, obviously he just brought you out for breakfast despite the unsuccessful hookup thing you had going on. Not to mention he seemed to genuinely have some kind of crush on you that kept him that way, nice and agreeable despite you snapping back at him a couple of times already. You are truly in awe of how well he is handling the situation and even paying for you before you could pull out your wallet, much unlike the other guys your age.
Second off, you are also very glad that you left their dorm before Jihoon returned because you don’t want to be that girl who is ruining friendships or even worse a whole ass homewrecker, much less one that does it in less than one night! The shame that would be even more humiliating than the one you are feeling right now.
And third and last thing, Soonyoung has quite a nice side profile. Even when you think back on the conversation you had, the one of him and Jihoon being a ‘thing’ you understand why Jihoon would like a guy like Soonyoung. He was annoying for sure, but also funny and somewhat cheeky, more relaxed and honest than you would expect him to be, not that people around you spoke bad about him but Seungkwan did say he can barely stand the guy despite willingly making connections with him.
Now that you think of it, you did meet Jihoon thanks to Seungkwan knowing Soonyoung, and therefore being placed in the same place at the same time. Funny how things lead to one another, like he pushed the first domino and set the whole motion in place. You should definitely pin the whole thing on him, albeit even if it is just to avoid the scolding that came with your fluctuating “romantic” choices.
In your weak defence, Jihoon did leave unexpectedly and Soonyoung did look too good in sleeveless crop top and charming smile full of teeth to not be his "replacement" for the midnight snack. Part of you does feel saddened that Jihoon wasn’t the one taking you to his place but in a way you did doubt that would have happened in the first place.
And for Jihoon…Seungkwan said he saw him enter the dorms. Was he really at his studio? Probably, and honestly it did sting more that way, maybe you would understand him flaking on you for the second time in less than 24 hours if he had a girlfriend to tend to, but the guy had a ‘boyfriend’? That too was a surprise, then again Soonyoung could totally be pulling on your leg when he said that.
You weren’t sure if you could believe any word the guy driving you claimed, he had that untrustworthy vibe around him. He looks like the kind of person who would tell you the water is perfect to jump in and then splash you like you were polar bears playing on the North Pole. It’s charming in a way, because you don’t think you would mind such a predicament at all–he seems the type to make even the prosaic events filled with lyrics of entertainment.
What the hell are you even thinking about? You shake your head trying to get out a vision of playing with polar bears like it’s some ice cream commercial, except in this commercial the bears are probably stun-men in costumes telling you the secret of a tasty ice-cream is carrot punch frozen under Soonyoung’s blasting airconditing.
You are definitely still hungover.
To avoid thinking nonsense you open the warm bag sitting in your lap, shuffling the paper bags around, and peeking at the fresh, as fresh as fast food can be, food.
“So…” Soonyoung starts off, fixing his eyes on the road.
You glance his way, just with the edge of your view, grabbing a fry that has fallen off its container, and putting it in your mouth, “Yeah?”
“Want for me to park to eat? Or should I just drive you home?” He asked when he stopped the car at the red light, but you can’t help but notice the way he keeps glancing at you then at the food on your lap.
“Think fast, I don’t want the food to get cold.” He said, swallowing back, tearing gaze from the food back to the street.
“Uh…we can park somewhere, I am not a fan of cold fries.”
“Thank God,” he says, immediately pulling away from the main street in search of a parking space.
You want to question him, grill him in search of answers but you don’t.
You eat your fast food meal and enjoy the half-nonsense half-normal conversation that soon flows between you, it’s better not knowing it. That way you can pretend that he was just some random guy you almost hooked up with, and that Jihoon too, is just some passing infatuation that is barely counted as a situationship.
Calling it a situationship in the first place would be a rather progressive way to look at it considering he was putting up with you once a week and only talked about art, music and whatever historical era you both are stuck on for your studies. It was almost like the night you met was a distant memory you made with Jihoon’s look-alike.
Perhaps it wasn’t a big jump to think you were simply looking for distraction from your ex, a way to move on without thinking that some karmic retribution will come your way because of ghosts from the past, the one you promised yourself to bury. It always spirals back to that, you can even hear Eun-bi’s voice in your head saying it is pointless, that you are seeking something that doesn’t exist. The kind of fate where all of the puzzle pieces fall perfectly to shape and there are no curved edges, where lucky stars align and lead you to your soulmate. That in some miracle would happen and that a specific person would chase away your bad luck.
And somewhere in the back of your head you know that that someone isn’t Jihoon, so why–
Ding!
It’s your phone announcing a string of messages, and you make a sour expression, not wanting to deal with reality just yet but unfortunately the annoying pings of messages don't stop so you enter the group chat with your friends. It was a surprise they were awake but you assumed like Seungkwan they too either just returned, noticed your absence, or maybe even, something you wouldn't be surprised occurred– Seungkwan woke them up for juicy news of your escapades.
“Hey, can I have your phone?”Soonyoung asks, in the middle of licking his finger from the last drops of ketchup, mind you. You don’t have to answer him before his fingers already have your phone in his hand, pressing in and tapping in something.
He returns it a minute later, grinning ear to ear, “I added my number and sent yours to me. For our date!”
“Ah...there is no other way than just going for it–but I am into your boyfriend slash roommate slash whatever you two have going on?”
“So? Doesn’t mean you can’t give me a chance? Think about it.”
“I mean, yeah but you said–”
“I say a lot of things.” He cuts you off, his tone was light, freeing almost in the way he truly didn’t pay attention to what he said but rather what he did, “I am pretty sure I don’t make sense like half of the time I talk nor do I try to be coherent. I am more of a man made for action.”
“I noticed, but that’s not the main topic here.”
“The main topic is you like my Jihoon and I like you? I never said don’t chase after him, I won’t get involved in that.”
“You won’t?” You ask, confusion attached to your voice as you look at him with bewilderment spread out across your face.
“No? Whatever you have with him is his thing not mine to worry about. I didn’t exactly think of him while I had you pressed in my sheets so you know, better keep it that way.” Soonyoung explains as he steals a fry from your meal after finishing the last bits of his.
“I said I could connect you two but to be completely honest, I changed my mind.”
“Why?’
“Hmm..” He goes silent, shrugging his shoulders and throwing the greasy papers from his finished meal in the backseat. It’s like he was thinking over the short question and going blank for a valid reason, his brows furrowing then pressing back in a more relaxed pose.
“Just because, I don’t want to do it anymore.” He doesn’t give any further information than that, pulling his backseat on and starting the engine.
“I don’t believe it, my luck was already bad enough that not only I haven’t managed to ask Jihoon out but got sidetracked, ended up in your bed and now you are saying you won’t tell him?”
“Does it have to make sense for you to believe it? I mean, from my standpoint you are ‘hitting all the marks’? Who gets to have two guys on their roster without risking some jealousy showdown?”
That shuts you up. Jealousy? Why would any of them get jealous over you, the only feeling you thought this, whatever this was, would arouse was disgust, annoyance and maybe second hand embarrassment.
“What’s your address?”
You think you go in a momentary state of shock for the sudden shift, blinking slowly as he returns on the main street, now the cars are rolling through the streets, the city finally up and functioning. The answer to his question leaves your lips automatically as you shift to pull your backseat back on.
“Just think about it.” Soonyoung mutters, repeating the previous sentiment.
“I mean, it’s not like we have to get together or something, but you are cute and I feel like we match up well. Even as friends, I am fine with it too.”
“Has anyone told you are as nutty as a fruitcake?”
“Yeah actually! How did you know?”
“I mean…You give off those vibes.”
“Nutty? Is that like a dirty joke?”
The conversation flows once again and you aren’t sure how it’s possible for the atmosphere to change so fast, it was true when he said that you suit each other’s personalities. While you liked the serene partners, mercurial and somewhat obstreperous people were drawn to you like (social) butterflies to pretty flowers, like Seungkwan and Eun-bi. They seem to like your sarcastic snaps and eccentric tendencies, well that's what you assumed at least. For what you knew they could really be like butterflies and like you for your style, Soonyoung did say you were cute, twice already.
You kinda feel bummed when you see your street and your dorm building pull in. Snuck in among taller buildings, a small place with cheap rent and loud neighborhoods, a place you call home despite the occasion leaking pipes and broken heating. He pulls over when you point the place out, analytically looking at the entrance but keeping his mouth shut from making any comment he shouldn’t.
The two of you say your parting words and the next thing you know is his warm lips being pressed against your cheek, it was swift and if you blinked you would miss it; the only you are sure it happened was the warmth where his skin was pressed against yours. In the moment too fast for you to make sense of, you were ushered out the car and the shut of the door echoed in your ears.
“Bye! Talk to you later!” He yells, hand waving through the window as he takes off, tips of his ears red and he had a stupidly giddy expression, one too excited when you think of the fact you were exchanging saliva a couple of hours ago. Yet, you scratch it up to just his unusual personality trait, he seems to have those a lot.
Forcing your feet toward your home, you dread the fact of facing the curiosity of your friends. But in a way you were glad to have them, at least you won’t have to question yours or Soonyoung sanity on your own.
synopsis. your lucky charm is lost and yet you seem to be hitting lottery, the last traces of your ex are finally gone, and best of it all your crush invited you to a party and you just made out with his boyfriend…wait what ?
paring(s). lee jihoon x reader x kwon soonyoung
genre(s). non-idol au, uni students au, romance, smut, angst, smau/half-written
word count. 3.1k
warning(s). mature themes, explicit words and scenes, alchohol mentioned
a/n. just small changes made +one tweet, that's it for tonight :3
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› 2 ~ trading luck for a zoo ticket
How did you end up in his bed of all of the places you could be at? Lights off, hands in his hair and a list of regrets under your belt. Well under your imaginary belt now, your actual one was somewhere in the pile of clothes that were discarded in a haste.
You really don't have it in you to question it, really, you have somehow stumbled into the tiger's den and right under the said tiger's claws, who are pretty intent on mapping out your almost naked body–touching everywhere and nowhere near enough to satisfy your newly discovered itch to have him.
For heaven's sake you were flirting with his best friend an hour or so ago, and now you were making out with the guy who thought dipping fries in lemonade was revolutionary. You were pretty sure that this is some kind of a downgrade?
Your supposed meal plan for tonight was a pink buzzcut with a coke zero on the side. You were pretending to care about your diet this week, burning calories or whatever. Not like any student's diet was good, but you are sure the striking freak above you is acting like he you were his first meal of the day with the way he was inhaling your kisses like starved man; trailing them down to your neck just enough to give you a moment to breathe and let the sighs you were holding in spill out.
Once your lips are free and the oxygen comes to your brain do you realize how otherworldly the situation you are in right now. You wish you could enjoy this moment with your whole body and your whole mind too, but the image of that guy flashes behind your eyes and you bite your lower lip.
Shit, you really are a mess, what were you even doing now?
A harsh bite on your neck was a call back to reality–the one that you for sure knew left a pinkish bud behind, that would bloom into a pain in the ass of a full blown clematis in the morning.
Hoshi didn’t like the sudden absence of your voice or your touch for that matter, you haven’t even realised that your fingers left his hair to clutch to the sheets below you. He lips pressed into a pout, head raised from the tender skin of your neck as he stares at you with an expression filled with dramatics of a toddler being refused extra five minutes at the swing–personally offended by your lack of previous enthusiasm to let him run free with praises to boast.
“Do you want to stop? Or puke?” He asks, propping himself above you, “That’s not a sexy look you are giving me, I can tell that much.” His pout drops from his face and it’s replaced with a worrisome grimace when you didn't say anything.
Your mind was lagging behind the cool beam from the flickering passing cars that reflected onto his half naked figure, air stuck in your throat. This made it so you couldn’t even control your expression of some conflicted feeling bottling up in the pit of your stomach.
“Did punch suck that badly? I swear I only added one bottle of carrot juice before realizing it wasn’t orange at all–”
“Huh? You added what now? Is that why it tasted absolutely horrid tonight?” You laugh, a breathy one like your mind was glad to think of something that actually had substance. Yet that was all but enough for him to light up, sitting up instead of awkwardly hovering above you, seemingly pausing in his advances but still close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, to feel his presence.
“Look, it isn’t my fault Mingyu sucks at labeling stuff, who keeps carrot juice in frat’s fridge!” He whines out, making exaggerated movements with his hands, justifying his mistake before you can fault him for anything; so you stifle a giggle behind your hand.
The expression on his face itself was the reason begging to be teased, but he comes back from his attempts to save his drink mixing skills and asks you again “Honesty…So do you want or don’t wanna puke, should I get you to the bathroom? What’s the situation?”
“Ah…no no, sorry, I just got lost in thoughts” You answer too honestly, before you can even catch yourself.
“Had clarity of mind so you wanna dip?” He asks, shrugging as if to tell he wouldn't judge.
“Not really? You…aren’t a follower or bro code or whatever you frat boys call it? I thought you were like besties?”
He looks at you like you grew a second head, his bleached eyebrows raising comically high and you can almost see the cogs in his head turning, trying to catch up, and when he finally makes a connection he still doesn’t grasp it fully but just enough to give an answer.
“Ah…I think I get it… You and Jihoon, right? I mean…I don't think he would get mad particularly?”
“Wow, what a way to deliver it, and here I thought I was hitting all the marks. I swear he didn’t glare me down as much as he did before, I even got his socials last week!” You exclaim, pressing palms of your hands into your cheeks, and Soonyoung smiles at your reaction, finding it adorable that it’s you who is acting childish now.
“Not gonna lie, hearing a pretty girl say that is so weird, and no I didn’t mean it like that. Actually the opposite?” He says, smiling brightly like you weren't talking about his best friend while in bed with him, “And you got his information willingly? He rarely gives that shit out. Congrats!” He taps his hands together like in some form of mock clapping, like you won something, you thought you did—but it seems you were mistaken.
“I am going to need you to explain what you mean by any of that?” Your face drops even more, and he can see that you are not amused by his encouragement for your well done ‘moves’
“By him not giving away socials? It's not that he is some playboy, he is just super duper private. Well not to me, we have been buddies since middle school! He even told me about you, so like you are definitely hitting the “marks”!”
“I didn’t mean that! But if I was doing good then wouldn’t that mean he was actually interested in me?” You say, now getting frustrated on logistics behind what's happening here. “Why go for me then? Are you sabotaging your best friend? Is he actually not that interested in me? Are you sabotaging me!?”
“Woah slow down, I can’t process all that, you speak too fast…” He says raising his hands in mock defense.
“Well first off, I like you too duh? My dick is still pretty hard too from just making out with you, is the punch getting to you? pretty sure I made that clear with all of the flirting and you know this…” His hand now is pointing between the two of you.
“You are so weird… I don't want to be stuck in some weird friendship feud.”
“No it's cool, we cool. Well, it’s more that that doesn't count, Woozi and I, we are kinda over such things. As I said he wouldn't mind...Besides if you are kissing me you are also kissing him, like you know kisses transfer and stuff I am basically forming a connection between you two!”
A pause rings between you two, your mind trying to absorb the information he was giving to you—only to draw blanks. He was forming a connection?
“Wait what? I need to lay down, this is making less and less sense as you speak, stop please.” You groan, and shake your head, you can feel the headache incoming and you aren’t sure if it was because of the weird punch you drank or his words that aren’t connecting to your brain at all.
“Oh..you don’t know? Me and Jihoon are a thing.” The words that slide off his tongue sound like a trophy, spoken in a proud tone.
Yet the only thing you can mutter in return is: “Huh? You are gay? “
“No?” He glances down on your bra covered breast, nodding as if he was agreeing with something in his head rather than your question.
“No, definitely not gay, ” he confirms his previous statement, not raising his gaze.
“Did you just?”
Soonyoung makes a small noise that sounded like some type of squeak when he meets your eyes and doesn’t even try to deny it. He just bursts in a contagious laugh, you follow almost immediately. The whole situation made the conversation you were having seem so absurd, like you slipped in some badly written comedy show where actors weren’t given the scripts.
What surprises you even more is while your voice keeps filling the room up, Soonyoung takes his blanket and drapes it over your shoulder. Pressing his eyes shut when his hands approach your breast to make sure the blanket doesn’t fall down, it's a nice action but he still glanced down at them when he sat back down but you don’t have it in you to judge him.
“Even if your tits look so good I don't think I would want Jihoon to get mad at me for you getting a cold while you are with me…unless you want me to warm them up with my hands…or mouth?”
A grin that covers half of his face makes you aware that it's a joke but the evil sparkle in your eyes makes you second guess, everything about this whole night is off, you aren’t sure what to even think and before you can make a retort he starts speaking again.
“I will chill out don't worry, but seriously, we are a thing, I guess it is gay but it isn’t like I don’t know, closed type of relationship? We just sorta are a thing without ever becoming one officially, we are lovers totally, that’s true. He told me when he met you and sure I was kinda jealous but you are like extra cute, so it's forgiven.”
“You have such a unique way of looking at things, just as I think I know what you are talking about you spat out something unbelievable and I am back at the beginning of not understanding anything. And I think you get off that too—”
“I will take that as a compliment, as I was saying… do you still want to fuck me? You are here aren’t you so why the sudden doubt, come on…don’t be a scaredy cat, you can think about him tomorrow.” He says, trailing his fingers up your arm, making you shiver. “We ought to be close. After you go out with him you will be around me too, nothing wrong with being a little extra friendly…I mean buy one get two deal, am I right?”
You choke out an answer, which were just incoherent strings of questions back at him, once you realize that you are out of breath you stop. He only smirks mischievously, pulling on your arm just with enough strength for you to hit his naked chest. Head pillowing just above his heart, the fast beating of it grounded you, like a melody that it isn't just you who is affected, despite his overconfidence and smug expression followed by more teasing touches of 'fixing’ the blanket over your shoulders.
“I can't help but wonder how you converse with Jihoon if you can't handle me teasing you, he is more intense than I am.” He says, tilting his head like an overgrown cat thinking of mischief, his eyes twinkling with not so well thought out plans. “Come on, I am not an ass, I can take a hint… But still my pride is wounded so can I get a date? Fair exchange!”
“I… I guess?”
“Guess? Guess what? My social security number? I guess that too, but come on, don't make me beg...unless you are into that? I can get accustomed to that, maybe.”
“Sure we can hang out.”
He keeps acting oblivious to the disgusted expression you sent his way. “Aren’t you just stubborn, sure we can ‘hang out’...Want to put your clothes back on or can I?”
“Can you turn the lights on instead?”
He makes an almost annoyed sound under his breath with a click of his tongue, before looking away, “I can’t…”
“...Seriously?”
“It’s not like I don't want to—no like I actually can’t, they are broken. Haha…” He chuckles awkwardly, “That’s why the lamp is on, I mean the vibes too but we haven’t gotten on changing them yet.”
“Hey don’t look at me like that! I liked it better when you were confused! Not when you are looking at me like I am incompetent dude? Don’t be a bummer, babe.” He flips over next to you, rolling over on his stomach like a wet dog, the troublemaker inside of him seemingly disappearing into the thin air. Replaced into a person you don't mind relaxing with, your muscles instinctively letting the tension disperse as your shoulders sag.
“Am I such bad company that you want to dip immediately?” He asks, turning his head to look at you, there is a frown attached to his light almost non-existing bleached eyebrows.
You edge your body further on the opposite side of the bed so you can see his face rather than the muscles of his back, trying to seem cool rather than left without words. “I didn’t say that.”
“Well I am picking up those vibes so…”
“You are quite annoying.”
“Jihoon says the same thing, but aren’t you a bit cruel now? It isn’t like I brought you here against your will?”
“Sorry, I feel a bit awkward now, I don't know what to say…’
“Tell me about that, me too, but at least you aren’t stuck in the crowd of drunk twenty-something year-olds with commitment issues and bad sense of personal hygiene.“ He pressed his palm against his cheek, turning more towards you leaning his weight on his hip.
“That’s oddly specific?”
He shrugs, “It’s a frat party, Jiwoon’s little celebration of passing some class and staying on the team, wasn’t particularly listening when he was speaking.”
“It’s a she?” Now it’s your turn to frown, he gasps like you told him the person was a penguin in disguise and not a girl.
“Wait? For real? I thought the make up was a self expression kind of thing for him-err-her?”
“Yeah? At least I think so? I know her-umm them because of Eun-bi so I never asked…”
“Cool…would it be weird if I asked? Wait, scratch that, he is in the frat! Not sisterhood?” He huffs, throwing away his doubts that your words ignited in him.
“I mean, you do have other girls in it too! Jeong-something was in it, the blond girl who is pre-law? She is in it!” You defend your point with another example, yet he just gasps more loudly like his whole friend group revealed they were zoo animals.
“Jeonghan? He is a boy! I know that for sure, I saw it with my own two eyes, unfortunately in action..” His words were muttered in the deafening tone of a spoiled child.
You barely have it in you to hide the chuckle that escapes you. “What the?”
“Ugh! Whatever, what were you even at the party for? No offence but you don’t scream frat activities for me, the clothes were telling me you have more flair then that, and well Jihoon, would rather eat rocks then admit he liked someone normal-ish. Don’t tell him I said that, it makes him look like a prick…”
“Jihoon invited me here, he fleaked out on me for some school work and felt guilty I think. And I was looking for an excuse to—you know I could ask him out naturally, like “hey, it's weird seeing you like this but I kinda like it, we should definitely go out sometimes!”, get it?” You explain, throwing your hands around in defeat.
He beams for some reason and tries, you aren’t quite sure if that’s what he was doing, to make you feel better. “Woah? Man you really suck at fulfilling your original intentions, I see why your mind was not into it, procrastination’s final boss of waiting for the right moment that it passed by you, at least you ended up in the right dorm.”
“Right dorm? Jihoon lives here?!” You almost jump at the words and he smiles almost amused at this point.
“Duh, I guess you can’t see because of the lights but yeah, we share this room, the perks of fucking around and finding out, aka Jihoon’s roommate got sick of me being around so much so he left us to it and moved out!”
“Wait…wait! Would that mean he could walk in at any minute and see me here!?”
“I mean in theory, yeah? But he won’t, he is busy finishing some things at the studio and probably won’t be back before sunrise.”
“Don’t fucking scare me like that!”
“Huhuhu…Got scared he will see you in my bed and think we fucked?” He teases, his mouth curved to the left in most jerk-like smirk, eyebrows rising and falling in mocking notions.
“We almost did?”
“You also promised me a date too.”
“I didn’t promise nothing”
“Tomato, thomato, same difference! Shh, do you want something to drink?”
“Hey! Don’t switch the subject!” You hit his arm once but before you can land another playful hit he is on his feet, stepping towards a magnet covered gray box, which you assume is the fridge despite being covered in clothes.
“Let’s see what we have…” Soonyoung muses and opens the mini-fridge, “We have some old beer…Nah, don’t want you to puke, maybe cold water? We have some coke zero but only if we wake up super early to replace it?”
“Oh I have some fizzled out lemonade?” He turns his head in an uncomfortable way to look at you. “Or do you want to go out for a drive?”
“Now?”
“Yeah why not, I am sure at least one 7/11 is open, or like a drive-through? I am kinda hungry too…”
“Ugh, what time is it?” You look around, looking for either your phone or some kind of clock in the partial darkness, your eyes land on a digital clock on the tableside of the other bed in the room and you audibly wince when you see red 05:17 glaring at you.
Shit. It’s almost morning already, just your bad luck in the action. There is no way your friends haven’t clocked in you missing.
synopsis. sometimes you see who the real friends are when they don't let you wallow in self pity but pull you to a party, blast the hamliton soundtrack and hydrate you with tequila shots
paring(s). lee jihoon x reader x kwon soonyoung
genre(s). non-idol au, uni students au, romance, smut, angst, smau/half-written
word count. 2.4k
warning(s). mature themes, alchohol consumption, toxic relationship mention, one joke about death from embarrassment
a/n. only small changes made, only to make conversations flow better and be connected to each others, plus more texts and posts :3
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› 1 ~ can’t you not play hamilton during my breakdown?
Right as you enter the small apartment you call home you are met with three pairs of eyes that match your friends. Their heads popping from the couch to the entrance in the speed of light like a synchronized dance move; which if you weren’t annoyed by them would make you laugh.
“What?”, you ask, trying to give them a cold shoulder—all in an attempt to not look like a minute away from bursting into tears. The fact your shoelaces have decided to become a tangled mess is not helping either.
“How was the workshop?” Eun-bi speaks first, looking at your losing battle with your shoes. If you focused on her you would see a half-amused half-worried expression covering her face. She is itching to come and rip the shoes off your feet so you can converse face to face and not like a mother and her angsty teen daughter that’s going through a rebellious phase.
“Like any other does. I breathed in too many chemicals that had big red ‘safety hazard’ written on them and in the end, I haven’t finished a single project.”
You answer, finally managing to pull your shoes off, ass on the welcoming mat as the late summer heat overwhelms your body so you don’t have any real energy to get up.
“Come on, get up, you look like some sore loser,” Seungwan says, glancing at your defeated stance.
“It’s actually depressing to even look at you,” he continues and you can only see half of him from where you are, his hair pulled back with what looked identical to your headband which flaps with his head movement. "You know—"
‘Are you actually sad about that keychain?” Eun-bi tries to cut him off, but the mention of the core cause of your emotional state makes Seungkwan stand up in alarm. “I thought you already threw out all of the things he gave you, even Beardsley the poor bear didn’t survive your anger so what’s the deal with a simple keychain?”
“It isn’t just a simple keychain you pesky idiot, it’s a lucky charm. I had it on when I passed my entrance exam, I had it on when I passed the job interview, I had it on when I visited grandma at the hospital and she started walking again, it’s obviously working.”
He rolls his eyes and in a blink of an eye you are on your feet.
“The last time I left it behind in my lecture hall I got hit by a bicycle in the middle of the park! Once, I misplaced it and guess who had to endure a humiliation ritual because of the randomly chosen work? The professor used my painting as what to not do, before over fifty students that were there! I can’t leave the house without it!’
“Well, if it worked that bastard wouldn't have been a shitty boyfriend? Or did you forget about the bad luck that was your ex?” He huffs out, and the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s misdeeds makes you wince.
“Besides, luck doesn’t work like that, both good and bad things happen despite you having or not having it, an irrelevant variable if you will.” Seungkwan says, his tone lowering but you can see he actually believes in what he says. “You shouldn’t rely on a single object so much.”
“You! Aren’t you just the brightest.” You snap at him moving from your pitiful corner in the hallway, dragging your feet towards your room.
Ignoring his words completely, you refuse to acknowledge them–even if he is making some sense. You are too high on the emotions of losing something you considered secret despite being a reminder of your shitty luck with men, it brought you luck in other areas and for you that was enough.
With the slam of the door you shut yourself out from both the conversation and the world.You fall on your bed, only to trace the small cartoonish cats that make out the pattern of your bedsheets.
You think back on your ex again and the way your luck finally started to pick up when you met him, when you received that charm.
It was quite the story, the kind you hoped to retell to your children. He gifted it to you on your first date with him, a token to signify the beginning of something great. He won it by pure luck while aiming for a cat plushie he never got you in the end. It was a long list of bad attempts in a shooting game but you always assured him you would’ve liked anything he won for you.
The keychain was made of cold silver metal, cheap in quality yet heavy to touch, a star whose edges you traced over and over again till they lost their original sharpness. You put it on every bag you have, never leaving the safety of your home without it, you even went as far to organize your wardrobe and stylistic choices around it.
It’s true that part of you feels ashamed in trusting such insignificant things, especially since you basically hate the guy who gave it to you, finding it so embarrassing that even your friends didn’t know the length you went to always have it on.
Call it superstitious if you will, but you avoided going under any ladder, turned around if a black cat crossed your path, you knocked on wood almost daily and regularly threw salt over your shoulder. You had a million little trinkets from different backgrounds just in case. And yet you somehow lost the thing that you placed the highest among those things.
Before you can try to gaslight yourself you will be okay, your phone lights up. And the name that graces your screen lights up your expression, and your mood along with it—
The sender of the texts was your newest obsession; a stand-off-ish senior who you met by chance at some pretentious art event you both were forced to go to by your extroverted friends, bonding over similar music tastes.
Since then you tried your best to get close to the guy, something in you was drawn to him like a month to a flickering flame. You barely got ahold of his number and only recently got his socials.
To you he was like a side character of some indie film, and you mean that it is the best way, considering you always fell for those kinds of guys–the ones that know what they want and live their lives with a unique sense of self, not falling under the toxic pressure of the crowd. He was the opposite of your ex, who only pretended to be nonchalant but actually cared too much about others.
And to see a guy like him messaging you first made your heart skip a beat and all your previous troubles be cast aside in favor of him. Even if it lasted for a minute, but now at least you can channel the negative energy towards a guy. No, you would feel guilty for doing that so you blame it on the missing lucky charm.
Before you can further fall into the small depressive state and have a full breakdown you hear a sound or rather a song that makes every muscle in your body tense up. Loud and impossible to miss that someone, you are pretty sure you know who, is screaming over the original vocals of the beginning of ‘Alexander Hamliton’. And at this point of your day you just want to bury yourself under your sheets no matter how sweaty you would get and forget you even exist. But unfortunately among the impressive yelling there is also annoying knocking on your door.
“Come out, we have a party to get ready for!” Seungkwan’s high pitched voice that is bordering actual yelling draws out Eun-bi’s screaming of the lyrics in the background. “Or will you actually cry with a musical about founding fathers as your sobbing yam?”
“Scram you inconsiderate jerks! Let me be in my feels for once!”, you yell back but he continued knocking is not letting up, you are certain tomorrow you will get yet another complaint from your neighbors.
“Nuh-uh, last time we did, you disappeared for 48 hours and we had to organize a search for you! Only to find you taking a nap at a damn cat cafe next town over! We all agreed to not let you be in your feels for your own safety”
“Girl, get your ass in here, someone just texted me that someone you know who will be at the party!” Eun-bi’s screeching came to halt so she can pass on the message of someone from her wide social circle.
Pitter of your feet moving rapidly against the wooden floor is heard before your door is slammed open by your own hand. “You are totally lying, he is busy with work.”
Seungkwan jumped a step back at your sudden entrance. “First off, that's a bit creepy to know and second, that’s what got you out and not your worried best friend?”
“Shut up. He willingly gave me that information. We were supposed to meet tomorrow for an assignment he offered to help me with, but he cancelled.” You press your pointed finger against his mouth and you have a sense of decency not to laugh in his face from how offended he looks.
“That’s tomorrow,” Hansol butts in, his head poking out the corner of the hallway and he has some sticky pink stuff on his face, “And I am like 80% sure he is at the party tonight. Jun told me today that they were going out and asked me to come with them.”
“How do you even know him, why is everyone but me so well connected—that doesn’t matter right now. It actually adds salt to my injury considering he found a party more important than meeting with me, so I was the one who got cancelled?”
“Maybe, hanging out with friends is more fun than helping you out?” Hansol offers an explanation and Seungwan snorts but before he can get into your lack of confidence when it comes to your love life Eun-bi cuts in.
“Look girl.” She says, putting her hands on your shoulders, “You have to realize—he is the type of guy where you have to make the first move.”.
‘Well it is awkward to ask him out while he is talking about school work—and he gets so concentrated when helping me that I feel guilty if I have to interrupt him with actually important questions. Imagine if I asked him out and he just totally ignored me, I would bury myself alive."
“He doesn't seem like a person to ignore you,” Hansol continues on, stepping in fully instead of hovering and you can see that he is wearing an apron smudged in something pink. He smells of fruit and something sharp that makes your nose scrunch. “And if he is, he won't be a guy for you?”
“Maybe… just maybe I could ask him to hang out when we aren't studying. But I never see him outside that!”
“Well…come to the party and ask him out then! The atmosphere would be more relaxed and you can easily woo him away somewhere more private.” Seunkgwan slides into the conversation, pulling your hand off his face and you are surprised he didn’t do it sooner.
“Yeah, what he said,” Hansol added in and turned back into the kitchen.
“But I lost my lucky charm this morning. What if I get hit by a truck, or even worse, embarrass myself in front of him! Just today, I spilled paint thinner over my classmates notebook! What if I spill something over him?! Gosh. I will pass away from shame!”
“I think you will be just fine, no need to write your obituary just yet.” Eun-bi says tapping your back in what should be a comforting manner but with her strength it was making you cough your life out.
While you pick yourself up from the unsuccessful assisation attempt you hear Hansol's voice from the kitchen. “So I think I failed. ”
“How do you even manage to fail to make a less than ten steps cocktail!?”
The rest of the day moves like a movie slideshow with an obnoxious playlist of musical songs and kpop girl groups that were popular more than a decade ago. You nod your head when asked for opinions on what to wear and chew on some passion fruit that was supposed to be a cocktail ingredient pretending you weren’t praying to every deity you remembered existed.
You try to ignore the nagging feeling that something will go wrong by drowning the tequila shots that are being poured as the night approaches.
You get ready, placing a bit more care then you would want to admit, wanting to bring the good kind of attention to yourself in hope you ‘accidentally bump’ into Jihoon. Going for that baddie look that definitely didn’t want to be here... As if looking good would influence lady luck to be on your side.
And as your phone rests forgotten on the sticky kitchen table you almost miss the notification sound from the bickering that was happening between Vernon and Seungkwan over who knows what.
It was him, once again texting first and your eyes widened in shock as you read the preview of the message, mouth parting as you shake your head and drown down another shot before you actually open the message bubble. Fingers shaking as you write the response.
Eun-bi pauses her solo reenactment of “Satisfied”, peaking to see who you are texting only to scream out an annoyingly pleased noise. Tearing the phone out of your hands and waving the others over.
Seungkwan takes a peek, but he only nudges your shoulder and with a smug expression decorating his face. “Maybe there is some luck even without that shitty thing, eh?”
While Vernon nods his head and simply says, “Sick.”
Just to be generally aware I will be repostsing lucky charm series with some editing. (Hopefully all edited chapters+two more will be up by the end of the week)
To be honest, I reread it because I wanted to work on drafts for next chapters only to disliked how bad the flow of both conversations and changing of scenes was.
The editing is not too much that if you avoid reading you would be lost for the next chapters, but I recommended to at least glance it over!
It's just to get the feel better, to fix some obvious grammatical errors and add some info. Plus more smau posts, just for funsies! :)
It's my birthday, wish me a happy birthday, I need the validation (/j).
I am reaching unc age and instead of clubbing I will be giggling over grown men who look like girls (affectionate).
Ps. Hopefully I get on that grind and put in the energy in this account. I already said this before, but in my defense I started this year with an exam season and bearly survived (skill issue on my part tbh).
synopsis. your county has fallen into whirlwind of tensions after the war, many are counting their luck in overtaking the missing crown prince'w place. as the eldest daughter of the royal family there is an immense weight on your shoulder to bring in more stability to your country – the only problem? there is this charming prince from the end of the continent that turns out to be both the solution and an unpredictable variable that might cause it all to come falling down.
paring(s). yoon jeonghan x f!reader
genre(s). non-idol au, royalty au, romance, angst, drama
warning(s). non-major characters death, period according misogyny, (breif) mentions of war, aftermath of war, tone is heavily regency period-like (which means historical icky things that are not cool (but nothing too drastic)), religious symbols but not too much, they are in a church at some point but nothing happens
wc. 5.6k
a/n. I had this in drafts for a while... I will make a masterlist later, but this is a part one of bigger passion project so bare with me (lot of non-jeonghan related yapping)
The soft breeze infused with the final burst of summer’s heat brushes against your cheek, rustling against the fallen strands of your hair. Caressing your skin in a futile attempt to warm you up. You don’t have any intention of closing the window to chase away the night's chill, and with it, the peaceful sight in front of you.
The view of an angelic beauty that is looking far out in the distance of the night, shining under the cascading flames of burning candles. One of his knees stood relaxed below his elbow, one leg spread onto the window’s seat while the other was dangling by the sill. Despite his posture being the most brazen–there was silent grace in his expression, almost serene despite the chaos that is lying in the wake of both the past and the future.
Perhaps instead of writing letters you should be writing poems to make this moment last forever but you will settle with eching it in your memory. Afraid to leave a material trace of this night, of a moment that isn’t drawn from desperation nor fear but stillness of being alive right now.
You tear your focus back on the drying ink, lifting your pen and dabbing it back into endless darkness. Words come to your mind harder than usually do, but like a string of coherence wraps around your hand you manage to finish the letter. One of many you have sent but as the wax drips onto the paper envelope you wonder if this time the words even transfer a grain of your feelings.
The seal is pressed, finality present only in your movements.
You chose to ignore the way he is staring at you, and in some twisted way you are glad even if the contents decorating the paper makes little sense at all–he would never know what they are.
It will always be yours, and perhaps if the person receiving it ever decides to open it will be theirs too.
You hear the slow tap of his feet as he approaches you, brushing the flyaway strands behind your ear, fingertips hovering above the skin below your ear for a short breath, before retreating.
‘He will read it, I assure you that it will be taken care of.’
An assuring promise or an attempt of pacification? Perhaps if it was months ago you would call it an empty promise filled with intentions of keeping you mellow and pliable but now you can only hope it’s an affirmation of fate yet to follow.
The walls of the castle were always cold, they might be draped with rich purple curtains that go from floor to ceiling, decorated by the finest of paintings, golden ornaments and precious china, but they will always be cold. Even the floor you walk on, despite your heels being silenced by carpet you are sure traveled a long way just to be stepped on by the royal family and those close enough to dare think of themself important enough to join them at the dining hall, was in some eerily senseless way cold enough that it sends shivers down your spine.
The sound of heavy door opening is far from pleasant, it carries some kind of importance that for you fizzled out long ago. You step into the room, not bothering to look at around the grandiose display of wealth that it was decorated with instead your gaze lands on the long rectangular table, the dark cherry wood peaking under the pure white tablecloth with decorative golden embroidery that you trace when the conversations become too dull for your brain to handle. But despite the compelling sense in your deep consciousness telling you to just leave you brave yourself into a curtsy, albeit as an attempt to prolong not having to look at their faces just yet.
‘Bright is the rising of the sun when the whole family is here, may peace and prosperity ever walk beside you, a fair morning to you, father, mother.’
The greeting you present might me soulless in essence and perhaps you share no the same sentiments you speak of, but you smile, offering it like a sweet peace offering for your tardiness.
Your father nods, ushering for you to sit down, and you feel dread fill in your stomach when he positions you right of him. Your gaze lays on your mother’s face, studying her almost passive face, the gems don’t brighten up her complexion as they usually do, they appear like ornaments on a porcelain doll with how pale her face is. The Queen meets your eyes for a long moment as you sit down, offering an empty smile, you know it holds some warmth, like ash after fire then went out, but not enough to ease your shivering.
‘Ah my sweet child, may the day find you in grace, aren’t you adored just lovely today’
An attempt was made for some sense of normalcy and you can appreciate it even for a short minute, ‘Thank you mother, the season of new blooms is upon us, brighter colors would make it come more swiftly? Or perhaps I read too many poems of springtide that I just cannot but immerse myself in it’
‘Bright? Poems?’ The King’s voice was nothing but void of affection, as he recites the words shaped like questions you dare not answer. ‘You must not find favor of acts such of those in time like these’
‘Times like these? Pray tell Your Majesty, what meaning those words hold, for the clock is ticking in the same way it was the day before.’ You know that asking in such a direct way seems rude, especially to a man of importance, and you can feel the worried glances and even feel the clutch of your youngest sister's little fingers on your dress.
‘Play not a fool when great matters are at hand, the Heir is at front lines and we have lost any semblance of knowledge of his return, a circumstance unbecoming of one tasked with weight of the crown.’
‘A misfortune befalls us’ Your mother says, hiding her face into a handkerchief, and you can grip the small hand on your lap, least of comfort you can offer to the innocent ones yet the most you can right now.
‘A misfortune born of negligence and folly.’ Yet the King doesn’t let down, words spiteful, said in a rushed movement of clinking the wine glass as he took and drank from it. Staring down on the now empty silver cut, like the answer to his troubles was written on the bottom, but he is just falling deeper instead.
‘Folly or not, such somber discourse is unfit to be led over morning meal your Majesty, might I inquire about your thoughts of moving with this proceeding?’
‘What wisdom do you carry princess? What declares you brave to utter such inquiries.’ He chuckles, throaty and lifeless, you hold in a gag from sheer discomfort the sound brings you.
‘What ill design lies behind such a bitter fate of my reign, my only son is lost, fallen to a sword of fiend.’
It was undoubtedly true his reign wasn’t one of peace but it was one of connections, trades and more than just smart deals, he was more of a merchant than a king, it was unfortunate too that he wasn’t the smartest of the merchants. You thank your brother a lot in the same way you pity him, at least he has a good head on his shoulder the one that keeps him out ill deals but he also has a good heart that forces him into most of complicated ones, then again you are sure both of these cases are affected equally by both the head and the heart.
‘The Crown Prince can still be breathing under the same sky, may it be a rainy day for him but all is not lost,’ you answer, and your father’s eyes finally meet yours instead of just plainly staring into the silver of nothingness. His gaze was sharp and calculating yet you don’t turn your head away, even when you hear her weep, not when you hear your middle sister's steps as she runs towards your mother to comfort her, it’s only then when you realize she is weeping, yet you don’t flatter not even when your youngest sister climbs in your lap.
Your words were supposed to offer comfort, you told them many times to ladies whose finances were on the battlefield, to older women who come to your mother’s salons, saddened for their missing sons. But you knew, even if it was true it didn't make the situation any easier, dead or not, he wasn’t here. And it seems the King already gave up on waiting for him, casting him aside as an afterthought, like a nuisance of an idea he had once.
‘Your mind is keen as a freshly sharpened knife that takes the last breath of the traitors, possessing a wit that matches wisdom beyond your years, your words flow like clearest rivers, easy to follow simply by precision of your touch on others with your verbal abilities alone. Must your understanding be so unshaken even in the hardest time, ’ he says deep in thought, and it’s almost like you can see the cogs turning in his head. He too doesn't spare a glance at your family members, but you know it is for a different reason than yours.
‘If only you were born as a son…’ , a pregnant pause followed by a dark chuckle, ‘Ah…you are right, not all is lost.’
‘Lord of worth would be more than suitable, should the providence, no even better of a deal, raise you to the throne, it would be brilliant, testament to your worth both in cradle in court! Our line shall persevere.’
‘Your majesty, do not jest she is only but near of her age! Bud yet not bloomed…’
Your mother's voice was nothing but unheard, the king just stands up from his chair and spears her a single glance.
‘An offer to become a wife to a lord that shall bear the weight of crown on his temples is the greatest gift a father could offer, do not weep woman, but prepare, in once the first flowers start to bloom she will too, she will come of age, early or not I shall not care. We must make sure we have a male heir no matter what, if by marriage so it be.’
You refuse to flinch under the pressure, you just hug your younger sister whose cheeks are wet and hands shaky, you doubt she understands the argument at all and in some way you wish she never does. You do not beg, do not cry, nor do you defend your mother, silent and pilent. You accept your fate and mutter a prayer for your older brother, for your sisters, for a miracle.
‘And don’t forget it is because of your incompetence we are here, you birthed a fool of a man, a weak insufficient prince who put shame on our name! And three daughters! The Lord must have mercy on the poor people of our kingdom so he gave one mind of a man, I hope He has enough pity to save us and find her a suitable husband.’
Your father hisses under his breath, spitting poison to shatter any kind of refusal from your mother.
‘We will postpone announcing his death until the engagement is done, and buy time to rally a decent support. Do not argue where it is not your place, woman.’
The door close behind him with a hard thrum, you know it isn’t from him, his hands never laid to open doors heavy as such.
Much like he never carried the actual weight of this kingdom.
The days, awaiting the season of awaking nature were long yet there was a sense of urgency among the people residing in the palace. Your gowns weren’t flowy anymore, the puffiness that lessened the hurt of playing around on grass was gone as the level of cleavage was suddenly an important thing to be accounted for to the tailors.
Suddenly gems you admired in your mother’s collection weren’t just for playing pretend with your sisters but to be worn, bit by bit you were being accepted as an adult and not a gifted child, and it was far from what you expected.
You were aware of it, the woman’s responsibilities, the duties of a noble lady and the tales told in whispers at ladies events, you sneaked in pretense of wanting to be part of them, but truly you simply had hunger to learn everything, and the more you knew the more the shape of the twisted world unruled before you.
Yet somehow it seemed bizarre in some placid, silent sense, nobody pushed nor pulled.
You walked the border carefully, asked the right questions so they never seemed too much but just enough for a curious princess, a bride to be to some man that wasn’t even decided before yet his hypothetical opinions, needs and preferences became the center of your world.
Your father doesn’t call you anymore, leaving it to your mother to shape you from a girl into a maiden, sometimes he would send in an advisor, some old priest who in your humble opinion was nothing but a fraud. He would tell you stories of men taking over their wives' thrones, about keeping the bloodline pure with your blood only. He spoke about power structure, and your small place in it, how even if you were some small speck of dust you must do your part. He came once every couple of days, yet you gave up on tracing the pattern so you could prepare for mind numbing lesions.
You never gave up on looking out of window every night, cold late winter air hitting your still chubby cheeks as you prayed, for your brother's return, for him to come in and celebrate your seventeenth spring, take you in his arms and assure you he got it all, that you can keep yourself buried between books and count petals in garden.
He didn’t come, even when you sneaked in his old study and read over his notes, now you could memorise all of them, tracing over his doodles, he didn’t come to scoop you in his lap and playfully scold you. He didn’t come even when you run out barefoot at the knights ground when some of the soldiers returned, his face nowhere to be seen, you were left to be assuaged by your maid, you added in another prayer that night, for him to still have a sparkle in his eyes no matter where he was.
The grass started to come out again, you can’t go barefoot over it anymore but you could watch your sisters run around and use the leftover snow to make small figures that melted under March’s sun, you soak it in, the domesticity of it, yet you usher them near the palace, you know it is less fun but you keep your eyes from glancing towards the entrance too much. Cloth too fancy for servants is the first thing you noticed, those people started appearing too far from the main building to be there for council, too close, too personal of glances sent your way. You stopped going there, pouring the melted snow over the flame of your curiosity before you could get burned. You just waited, patience was a virtue your mother preached about, and it was her who gave you the answers.
‘You…’ She stared off as you fixed your sister's hair, placing the fallen pins back into her hair. ‘Did you speak with any strangers as of late? On your walks that is…someone from outside, perchance?’
‘No mother, Suhyeon was demanding we go to church’s yard of late, she likes running around the field while I pray.’ You answer, wait a second before asking, as if to make conversation longer, natural even. ‘Why? Should I have done that? Have I missed greeting someone?’
‘No…no.’ She answers and you can feel her gaze on you, she is thinking it over, whatever to tell you, you know she will, she just needs to justify it first in her mind.
‘Just…new faces came, a foreign adversaries… Some of them are rather the lookers, thought you would be curious, haven’t you always had a knack for learning foreign languages, your teacher had been praising you.’
‘I am princess, they ought to praise out of courtesy.’ You let go of Suhyeon and she runs off, you know the moment she is out of the sight she will be pulling the ornaments you placed in her hair out, only to come back when she is scolded by the court ladies.
‘That is…don’t get witty with me,’ you give her your full attention, moving from the vanity table towards her. She stiffens visibly when you sit besides her on the sofa, the weight of your body falling into the blue cushions and creating a dent as you lean into her, she straightens up her posture when your face is close enough that you can see the wrinkle lines of her face, the deep set of her undereyes, and the rosy rouge she placed on her cheeks mere minutes ago clashes with lifeless complexion she been carrying since last winter.
‘You surely comprehend what I am saying, prepare for tomorrow and brush up your greetings. We will go to church, offer a prayer and…and introduce you to them.’ The words she mumbles out sound unsure but before you can ask her questions she stands up with hurriedness that makes it clear she is not debating this over with you.
She runs off in the same Suhyeon did, rushed and with a feeling of guilt for thing she is yet to do, you chose to ignore it and go to find your brother’s notes instead of yours, peaking for secrets in translations like you could summon him back if you read the foreign letters right, pronouncing the words like chants, you will pray tomorrow to be forgiven for your weak attempt of sacrilege.
You don’t feel guilty of it, not even as the church bells ring and nobles flock over to your mother to greet her. You step into the church’s courtyard, dragging your long dress with you, and you kind of wish that your sisters were a bit older so you could feel less alone among the heavy scent of mature perfumes that hit your face. Sunday is the only day the palace church is open to nobles without any permission needed, you never go to morning service on Sunday, only the night one, where there are only unmarried old ladies and widows praying in silence.
You wish for that silence as the many greetings are sent your way, all spoken in language of your own, yet you return them without any practice needed, smiling and hoping your eyes don’t give out the dread of memorising the names and connecting them to titles you already learned.
It is only after the service when you hear the foreign tongue twist a curse under their breath. In the candle-lit room where the prayers of the dead and alive alike are muttered, as you finish placing a candle for your brother on the top stand your ears pick it up, an airy lilt of the voice that despite the softness carries a undoubtedly a masculine tone.
You turn your head towards it, and you are met with a figure of a tall man. You tilt your head too, upwards to meet his dark eyes, trying to recognize the face but failing to do so, settling on hoping you haven’t met him before and withholding your greeting just yet as if to prolong the silence between the two of you.
He seems startled that you were there, it seems the service is still outgoing, but makes no move to leave the room or push further in it, standing still like a statue. Your eyes trace over his features carefully, the slight raise of his eyebrows, the longish black hair that is tucked away behind his ears catches your attention first then his lips, rosy from cold as they move.
‘Warm regards princess Suhyeon…’ He mumbles, voice sounding a bit awkward but the pronunciation is clear in a way you can see it is well-practiced, both the way he speaks your mother tongue and covers the awkwardness with a charming smile.
‘Suhyeon? I will be sure to send her regards in your way…Only if you give some to me too,’ you speak before you can process it, lips moving as you return the smile albeit with a bit of spark behind it. Something in you made you want to see his lips move into the shape of your name, so to hide your interest you fall down into a curtsy, that makes him move automatically into a deep bow.
‘Excuse me?’ He chuckles awkwardly, rising from the bow. ‘Princess Siyoon then? My apologies they sound quite the similar to me.’
‘Wrong again, third time the charm, as they say.’ You chuckle, but are fast to cover your mouth with your hand. And when he makes a grinning expression of realization dawning on his face your cheeks flush from the way his eyes light up and bows forward just slightly as in some soft apology without saying the words directly to you.
‘Ah…the crown princess then, I've been told you are more of a timid nature, and a bit older.’ He explains, addressing you by the title that makes you frown, is that how you are presented to outsiders, you wonder for a second.
‘Older?’ You ask, choosing to focus on the other part that is worth nitpicking, but your question is overlapped by familiar voices you recognize as your mother’s ladies in waiting. So you courtesy so lightly that is barely considered a courtesy, and you rush towards the entrance before they can see you converse with a man by yourself.
‘Ah sorry, let’s greet each other properly the next time, I hope to learn of your name too.’
You hear a second curse from him when you leave the room, also in his own language, now you are able to giggle freely, your mother was right, the curiosity in you would naturally be awakened if something or rather someone is out of your routine.
Your mother also holds in her curses but unlike the stranger you wish you had the name of, her expression is a different story. Sour like unripe grapes, you keep silent about the meeting, perhaps looking too forward for the satisfaction of learning about him on your own, there was always something in answering your own questions that is sweet, more sweet than the bitter tea you force down your throat as you try to pacify her.
After the church you are forced into a tea room, listening to your mother complain to other important women in the kingdom, you sit like a motionless doll on your mother’s side. Picking up an empty teacup third time in a row just so you could avoid commenting on new gossip.
‘You carry yourself with such composure, young princess. If I were a couple decades younger I would be fuming to be debuting in the same season as you are.’ The voice of a Marchondess rings in your ears as you focus back on the conversation on hand.
‘You are kind enough to say so, ma’am. Though, I am afraid I pale compared to stories that are mentioned next to your name, I can only but work towards such grace’
She laughs, the kind of laugh that makes your skin crawl from the facade that it presents. Other ladies add in compliments of their own and you can feel your mother beaming from pride, her mood bettering as she takes over the conversation. You fill in the uncomfortable gaps when you can, yet never speak long enough for those vultures of old nobles to sink their imaginative fangs into your neck, or to say, find too much about you.
‘Your conversations are as pleasant as you are my dear, must I comment, lucky is the drawing room that will have you as a guest and utmost lucky will be the household blessed with such charm, should they know of dullness with such a daughter.’ She continues on, the sweet words of praise spilling out of her red lips.
‘It is such a shame your older brother won’t be here to see it…well I truly hope he makes it in time for a wedding!’ The Duchess adds in, the older woman gleaming with what appears happiness yet the heaviness of your gaze makes you think the opposite.
‘Till the wedding? Please do not lament such things, my brother will be back before you know it. Last time, pardon my memory, but I think he wrote to father that he is recovering quite well, he even promised to be back before the winter solace.’
‘Winter solace? That is quite far.’
‘I am sure there is no need for me nor him to rush. After all I haven’t even had a proper event in society, courting takes time, doesn't it? And his grace, the crown prince said he would want to return fully healthy and celebrate the end of war, without leaving any regrets behind.’
The bitter smile overtakes her face, as she hides it with her gadgy fan. ‘His highness said so? Well it seems we will have many grand celebrations coming up?’
‘Indeed, I hope you attend most of it, for it would be a joy to speak with you again ma’am.’
Your corset is let loose when you meet him for the second time, three and half days later—not like you counted. You were chasing Siyoon, your youngest sister down the hallway into the room filled with what she says has a comfiest couch, her bubbly laugh filling in the space up to the painted ceiling of the gallery. The man is also there, wearing the same surprised expression when his admiration of the paintings that grace the walls is interrupted by a giggling ball with frills.
You clutch the ends of your dress tighter and catch your breath by the doorway, and just like before speak too fast, this time speaking his language, greedy part in you wanting to converse with him without anyone knowing what it was about, despite knowing your sister didn’t care enough to listen to your conversations.
‘Suhyeon appreciated the greetings as much as she does to the ornaments in her hair, tossed too fast. Apologies for that, I had no name to attach to it.’
‘Is that so..’ He says, and you are glad you spoke to him in his mother tongue, his voice is somehow deeper, it glides smoothly and there is no hesitation when the syllables form the words.
‘Is that her?’ He asks, tilting his head to the young princess who is fluffing out the small pillows on the couch before burning herself in them, disappearing in pale blue comfort.
‘No, that’s Siyoon. She still hasn’t learned her manners… Hope you don’t mind.’
‘Your pronunciation is amazing, have you travelled abroad before?’
‘No, I haven’t left the county, the daughters in the royal family can’t leave the palace until marriage.’
‘Oh…well, you must have had an amazing teacher, might I have know of his name?’
‘Too many to name but my elder brother taught me mostly. I hope you know of his name, he is the only male offspring in our family, so you have no one to confuse him with.’
In return of your articulated stab he shook his head, the fallen strands of his tied up hair falling before his eyes, he moved them away with a brush of his fingers.
‘You aren’t making this easy.’
‘Making what easy, your highness?’
‘You know of me? How?’
‘I don’t, I made a guess and was right, you hold yourself with importance only a royal offrisping would have. But it wouldn’t be hard to ask around either, I am sure you leave long lasting impressions on others the same way you did to me’
‘I left an impression?’ He tilts his head, the edges of his lips lifting up just slightly, as if to let you know he found satisfaction in your comment.
‘You called me old, it still stings.’
‘I haven’t…meant it in that way. Many praise you for your wisdom and wit so I assumed you would be at least past twenty winters, and well you…it is your springtime of…pardon my thoughts got better of me’
‘I see, how many winters have you lived then?’
‘One past twenty, this one shall be my twentieth one. I was born in autumn.’
‘Is that so?’
‘That is so.’
‘Your highness, how come you don’t have a servant with you?’
‘I may ask you the same’
‘This is the only place I've ever been in, remember? I know my way around and every servant can be considered as mine…you on the other hand. I find it strange you come to a gallery on the East, I am sure any servant would inform you the one on the West is the one that holds the most astounding of pieces.’
‘Perhaps I am here on a different quest?’
‘Is that so? Do share, I might be of help to fulfilling that quest.’
‘Must I? Please, it would be a shameful request on my part if I did…’
‘Oh my, if it raises such shame I must alarm the guards, you are in the presence of two young ladies…suddenly I worry what Siyoon will hear.’ You fake a gasp, as if to make a point.
‘Ah…no, don’t—’, he pauses, collecting his words, part of him believing you will come true at your previous threat of alerting the guards, ‘Dear Lord… I came to find you princess.’
‘Me? That’s awfully questionable your highness, even foreign royals are still guests on palace grounds. What might you inquire as to meet me without a formal preceding?’
‘To apologise?’ His words are followed by yet another tilt of his head, voice drawing the last syllable like it would prolong the sentence from finishing. You want to offer the doubt that he is simply of an awkward personality but your observations say otherwise, and part of you doesn't want to give him an easy way out.
‘You sound unsure?’
‘I am, I am also afraid that I have offended you by not offering proper greeting to you, and now I do realize you understood me cursing in the Lord’s house.’
‘You are a strange one…you say one but still haven’t even greeted me property for a second time, piling on offences are we?’
‘You too haven’t offered a greeting.’ He retorts back, at last catching on your teasing.
‘I don’t know who you are, without an introduction I only have guesses from the history books, and you are very much alive so those won’t help.’ You pause, measuring him, and that's enough to make his nerves burn — you make out a glisten of sweat above his temple which brings you joy. ‘Is it you who are here without permission, The Emerald Palace is home to unmarried ladies? Seems concerning in my eyes.’
‘I am Jeonghan, Yoon Jeonghan of a small kingdom on the East of the continent. It is a greatest honor to make your acquaintances your highness. I assure you I have no ill will towards any lady residing here, but carry guilt in my heart for not being worthy of my title when we spoke the last time, I wasn’t thinking clearly then.’
‘Jeonghan…’ You murmur under your breath, the name rolling off your tongue and you curtsy. ‘Bright is the day as your greeting, no cloudiness in your intentions is seen and appreciated. I hope that your visit will bear fruit because I don’t find offense in your greeting, and the lack of it. It is forgiven under the practice of speaking with me, even the old attribute you attached to me’
‘Once again, your wit precedes your age, I see that with my own eyes. Pardon me for my hasty words, you are as beautiful as the March sunbeam reflecting on the clear waters and the first blooms that caress the sight among the white snow—’
His compliments are cut off by a demanding voice of the young princess.
‘Sister, you are too loud.’ Siyoon hisses, seemingly finding her way out of pillows, her small head becoming a circle as she puffs out her chubby cheeks, you know you two aren’t loud but it seems she didn’t like the lack of attention on her. ’I have gotten bored, carry me.’
‘I will make haste, I am concerned they must have noticed me missing, have a fair day, princess…’ He mouths your name like it’s a secret, you feel the impact of your sister clinging on the bottom of your dress but your gaze doesn’t drift from his retreating back.
Your curiosity grows, it’s clear he is here in the country because your father’s words of your prospective hand in marriage but you are left to question everything else. His quick on feet answers and charming smile, the eyes that seem like deep depths filled with secrets you want to know, you always wanted to know, the small peak into something and you wanted to know every edge and corner of it.
And now, he became more interesting then any book your studied.
synopsis. your county has fallen into whirlwind of tensions after the war, many are counting their luck in overtaking the missing crown prince'w place. as the eldest daughter of the royal family there is an immense weight on your shoulder to bring in more stability to your country – the only problem? there is this charming prince from the end of the continent that turns out to be both the solution and an unpredictable variable that might cause it all to come falling down.
paring(s). yoon jeonghan x f!reader
genre(s). non-idol au, royalty au, romance, angst, drama
warning(s). non-major characters death, period according misogyny, (breif) mentions of war, aftermath of war, tone is heavily regency period-like (which means historical icky things that are not cool (but nothing too drastic)), religious symbols but not too much, they are in a church at some point but nothing happens
wc. 5.6k
a/n. I had this in drafts for a while... I will make a masterlist later, but this is a part one of bigger passion project so bare with me (lot of non-jeonghan related yapping)
The soft breeze infused with the final burst of summer’s heat brushes against your cheek, rustling against the fallen strands of your hair. Caressing your skin in a futile attempt to warm you up. You don’t have any intention of closing the window to chase away the night's chill, and with it, the peaceful sight in front of you.
The view of an angelic beauty that is looking far out in the distance of the night, shining under the cascading flames of burning candles. One of his knees stood relaxed below his elbow, one leg spread onto the window’s seat while the other was dangling by the sill. Despite his posture being the most brazen–there was silent grace in his expression, almost serene despite the chaos that is lying in the wake of both the past and the future.
Perhaps instead of writing letters you should be writing poems to make this moment last forever but you will settle with eching it in your memory. Afraid to leave a material trace of this night, of a moment that isn’t drawn from desperation nor fear but stillness of being alive right now.
You tear your focus back on the drying ink, lifting your pen and dabbing it back into endless darkness. Words come to your mind harder than usually do, but like a string of coherence wraps around your hand you manage to finish the letter. One of many you have sent but as the wax drips onto the paper envelope you wonder if this time the words even transfer a grain of your feelings.
The seal is pressed, finality present only in your movements.
You chose to ignore the way he is staring at you, and in some twisted way you are glad even if the contents decorating the paper makes little sense at all–he would never know what they are.
It will always be yours, and perhaps if the person receiving it ever decides to open it will be theirs too.
You hear the slow tap of his feet as he approaches you, brushing the flyaway strands behind your ear, fingertips hovering above the skin below your ear for a short breath, before retreating.
‘He will read it, I assure you that it will be taken care of.’
An assuring promise or an attempt of pacification? Perhaps if it was months ago you would call it an empty promise filled with intentions of keeping you mellow and pliable but now you can only hope it’s an affirmation of fate yet to follow.
The walls of the castle were always cold, they might be draped with rich purple curtains that go from floor to ceiling, decorated by the finest of paintings, golden ornaments and precious china, but they will always be cold. Even the floor you walk on, despite your heels being silenced by carpet you are sure traveled a long way just to be stepped on by the royal family and those close enough to dare think of themself important enough to join them at the dining hall, was in some eerily senseless way cold enough that it sends shivers down your spine.
The sound of heavy door opening is far from pleasant, it carries some kind of importance that for you fizzled out long ago. You step into the room, not bothering to look at around the grandiose display of wealth that it was decorated with instead your gaze lands on the long rectangular table, the dark cherry wood peaking under the pure white tablecloth with decorative golden embroidery that you trace when the conversations become too dull for your brain to handle. But despite the compelling sense in your deep consciousness telling you to just leave you brave yourself into a curtsy, albeit as an attempt to prolong not having to look at their faces just yet.
‘Bright is the rising of the sun when the whole family is here, may peace and prosperity ever walk beside you, a fair morning to you, father, mother.’
The greeting you present might me soulless in essence and perhaps you share no the same sentiments you speak of, but you smile, offering it like a sweet peace offering for your tardiness.
Your father nods, ushering for you to sit down, and you feel dread fill in your stomach when he positions you right of him. Your gaze lays on your mother’s face, studying her almost passive face, the gems don’t brighten up her complexion as they usually do, they appear like ornaments on a porcelain doll with how pale her face is. The Queen meets your eyes for a long moment as you sit down, offering an empty smile, you know it holds some warmth, like ash after fire then went out, but not enough to ease your shivering.
‘Ah my sweet child, may the day find you in grace, aren’t you adored just lovely today’
An attempt was made for some sense of normalcy and you can appreciate it even for a short minute, ‘Thank you mother, the season of new blooms is upon us, brighter colors would make it come more swiftly? Or perhaps I read too many poems of springtide that I just cannot but immerse myself in it’
‘Bright? Poems?’ The King’s voice was nothing but void of affection, as he recites the words shaped like questions you dare not answer. ‘You must not find favor of acts such of those in time like these’
‘Times like these? Pray tell Your Majesty, what meaning those words hold, for the clock is ticking in the same way it was the day before.’ You know that asking in such a direct way seems rude, especially to a man of importance, and you can feel the worried glances and even feel the clutch of your youngest sister's little fingers on your dress.
‘Play not a fool when great matters are at hand, the Heir is at front lines and we have lost any semblance of knowledge of his return, a circumstance unbecoming of one tasked with weight of the crown.’
‘A misfortune befalls us’ Your mother says, hiding her face into a handkerchief, and you can grip the small hand on your lap, least of comfort you can offer to the innocent ones yet the most you can right now.
‘A misfortune born of negligence and folly.’ Yet the King doesn’t let down, words spiteful, said in a rushed movement of clinking the wine glass as he took and drank from it. Staring down on the now empty silver cut, like the answer to his troubles was written on the bottom, but he is just falling deeper instead.
‘Folly or not, such somber discourse is unfit to be led over morning meal your Majesty, might I inquire about your thoughts of moving with this proceeding?’
‘What wisdom do you carry princess? What declares you brave to utter such inquiries.’ He chuckles, throaty and lifeless, you hold in a gag from sheer discomfort the sound brings you.
‘What ill design lies behind such a bitter fate of my reign, my only son is lost, fallen to a sword of fiend.’
It was undoubtedly true his reign wasn’t one of peace but it was one of connections, trades and more than just smart deals, he was more of a merchant than a king, it was unfortunate too that he wasn’t the smartest of the merchants. You thank your brother a lot in the same way you pity him, at least he has a good head on his shoulder the one that keeps him out ill deals but he also has a good heart that forces him into most of complicated ones, then again you are sure both of these cases are affected equally by both the head and the heart.
‘The Crown Prince can still be breathing under the same sky, may it be a rainy day for him but all is not lost,’ you answer, and your father’s eyes finally meet yours instead of just plainly staring into the silver of nothingness. His gaze was sharp and calculating yet you don’t turn your head away, even when you hear her weep, not when you hear your middle sister's steps as she runs towards your mother to comfort her, it’s only then when you realize she is weeping, yet you don’t flatter not even when your youngest sister climbs in your lap.
Your words were supposed to offer comfort, you told them many times to ladies whose finances were on the battlefield, to older women who come to your mother’s salons, saddened for their missing sons. But you knew, even if it was true it didn't make the situation any easier, dead or not, he wasn’t here. And it seems the King already gave up on waiting for him, casting him aside as an afterthought, like a nuisance of an idea he had once.
‘Your mind is keen as a freshly sharpened knife that takes the last breath of the traitors, possessing a wit that matches wisdom beyond your years, your words flow like clearest rivers, easy to follow simply by precision of your touch on others with your verbal abilities alone. Must your understanding be so unshaken even in the hardest time, ’ he says deep in thought, and it’s almost like you can see the cogs turning in his head. He too doesn't spare a glance at your family members, but you know it is for a different reason than yours.
‘If only you were born as a son…’ , a pregnant pause followed by a dark chuckle, ‘Ah…you are right, not all is lost.’
‘Lord of worth would be more than suitable, should the providence, no even better of a deal, raise you to the throne, it would be brilliant, testament to your worth both in cradle in court! Our line shall persevere.’
‘Your majesty, do not jest she is only but near of her age! Bud yet not bloomed…’
Your mother's voice was nothing but unheard, the king just stands up from his chair and spears her a single glance.
‘An offer to become a wife to a lord that shall bear the weight of crown on his temples is the greatest gift a father could offer, do not weep woman, but prepare, in once the first flowers start to bloom she will too, she will come of age, early or not I shall not care. We must make sure we have a male heir no matter what, if by marriage so it be.’
You refuse to flinch under the pressure, you just hug your younger sister whose cheeks are wet and hands shaky, you doubt she understands the argument at all and in some way you wish she never does. You do not beg, do not cry, nor do you defend your mother, silent and pilent. You accept your fate and mutter a prayer for your older brother, for your sisters, for a miracle.
‘And don’t forget it is because of your incompetence we are here, you birthed a fool of a man, a weak insufficient prince who put shame on our name! And three daughters! The Lord must have mercy on the poor people of our kingdom so he gave one mind of a man, I hope He has enough pity to save us and find her a suitable husband.’
Your father hisses under his breath, spitting poison to shatter any kind of refusal from your mother.
‘We will postpone announcing his death until the engagement is done, and buy time to rally a decent support. Do not argue where it is not your place, woman.’
The door close behind him with a hard thrum, you know it isn’t from him, his hands never laid to open doors heavy as such.
Much like he never carried the actual weight of this kingdom.
The days, awaiting the season of awaking nature were long yet there was a sense of urgency among the people residing in the palace. Your gowns weren’t flowy anymore, the puffiness that lessened the hurt of playing around on grass was gone as the level of cleavage was suddenly an important thing to be accounted for to the tailors.
Suddenly gems you admired in your mother’s collection weren’t just for playing pretend with your sisters but to be worn, bit by bit you were being accepted as an adult and not a gifted child, and it was far from what you expected.
You were aware of it, the woman’s responsibilities, the duties of a noble lady and the tales told in whispers at ladies events, you sneaked in pretense of wanting to be part of them, but truly you simply had hunger to learn everything, and the more you knew the more the shape of the twisted world unruled before you.
Yet somehow it seemed bizarre in some placid, silent sense, nobody pushed nor pulled.
You walked the border carefully, asked the right questions so they never seemed too much but just enough for a curious princess, a bride to be to some man that wasn’t even decided before yet his hypothetical opinions, needs and preferences became the center of your world.
Your father doesn’t call you anymore, leaving it to your mother to shape you from a girl into a maiden, sometimes he would send in an advisor, some old priest who in your humble opinion was nothing but a fraud. He would tell you stories of men taking over their wives' thrones, about keeping the bloodline pure with your blood only. He spoke about power structure, and your small place in it, how even if you were some small speck of dust you must do your part. He came once every couple of days, yet you gave up on tracing the pattern so you could prepare for mind numbing lesions.
You never gave up on looking out of window every night, cold late winter air hitting your still chubby cheeks as you prayed, for your brother's return, for him to come in and celebrate your seventeenth spring, take you in his arms and assure you he got it all, that you can keep yourself buried between books and count petals in garden.
He didn’t come, even when you sneaked in his old study and read over his notes, now you could memorise all of them, tracing over his doodles, he didn’t come to scoop you in his lap and playfully scold you. He didn’t come even when you run out barefoot at the knights ground when some of the soldiers returned, his face nowhere to be seen, you were left to be assuaged by your maid, you added in another prayer that night, for him to still have a sparkle in his eyes no matter where he was.
The grass started to come out again, you can’t go barefoot over it anymore but you could watch your sisters run around and use the leftover snow to make small figures that melted under March’s sun, you soak it in, the domesticity of it, yet you usher them near the palace, you know it is less fun but you keep your eyes from glancing towards the entrance too much. Cloth too fancy for servants is the first thing you noticed, those people started appearing too far from the main building to be there for council, too close, too personal of glances sent your way. You stopped going there, pouring the melted snow over the flame of your curiosity before you could get burned. You just waited, patience was a virtue your mother preached about, and it was her who gave you the answers.
‘You…’ She stared off as you fixed your sister's hair, placing the fallen pins back into her hair. ‘Did you speak with any strangers as of late? On your walks that is…someone from outside, perchance?’
‘No mother, Suhyeon was demanding we go to church’s yard of late, she likes running around the field while I pray.’ You answer, wait a second before asking, as if to make conversation longer, natural even. ‘Why? Should I have done that? Have I missed greeting someone?’
‘No…no.’ She answers and you can feel her gaze on you, she is thinking it over, whatever to tell you, you know she will, she just needs to justify it first in her mind.
‘Just…new faces came, a foreign adversaries… Some of them are rather the lookers, thought you would be curious, haven’t you always had a knack for learning foreign languages, your teacher had been praising you.’
‘I am princess, they ought to praise out of courtesy.’ You let go of Suhyeon and she runs off, you know the moment she is out of the sight she will be pulling the ornaments you placed in her hair out, only to come back when she is scolded by the court ladies.
‘That is…don’t get witty with me,’ you give her your full attention, moving from the vanity table towards her. She stiffens visibly when you sit besides her on the sofa, the weight of your body falling into the blue cushions and creating a dent as you lean into her, she straightens up her posture when your face is close enough that you can see the wrinkle lines of her face, the deep set of her undereyes, and the rosy rouge she placed on her cheeks mere minutes ago clashes with lifeless complexion she been carrying since last winter.
‘You surely comprehend what I am saying, prepare for tomorrow and brush up your greetings. We will go to church, offer a prayer and…and introduce you to them.’ The words she mumbles out sound unsure but before you can ask her questions she stands up with hurriedness that makes it clear she is not debating this over with you.
She runs off in the same Suhyeon did, rushed and with a feeling of guilt for thing she is yet to do, you chose to ignore it and go to find your brother’s notes instead of yours, peaking for secrets in translations like you could summon him back if you read the foreign letters right, pronouncing the words like chants, you will pray tomorrow to be forgiven for your weak attempt of sacrilege.
You don’t feel guilty of it, not even as the church bells ring and nobles flock over to your mother to greet her. You step into the church’s courtyard, dragging your long dress with you, and you kind of wish that your sisters were a bit older so you could feel less alone among the heavy scent of mature perfumes that hit your face. Sunday is the only day the palace church is open to nobles without any permission needed, you never go to morning service on Sunday, only the night one, where there are only unmarried old ladies and widows praying in silence.
You wish for that silence as the many greetings are sent your way, all spoken in language of your own, yet you return them without any practice needed, smiling and hoping your eyes don’t give out the dread of memorising the names and connecting them to titles you already learned.
It is only after the service when you hear the foreign tongue twist a curse under their breath. In the candle-lit room where the prayers of the dead and alive alike are muttered, as you finish placing a candle for your brother on the top stand your ears pick it up, an airy lilt of the voice that despite the softness carries a undoubtedly a masculine tone.
You turn your head towards it, and you are met with a figure of a tall man. You tilt your head too, upwards to meet his dark eyes, trying to recognize the face but failing to do so, settling on hoping you haven’t met him before and withholding your greeting just yet as if to prolong the silence between the two of you.
He seems startled that you were there, it seems the service is still outgoing, but makes no move to leave the room or push further in it, standing still like a statue. Your eyes trace over his features carefully, the slight raise of his eyebrows, the longish black hair that is tucked away behind his ears catches your attention first then his lips, rosy from cold as they move.
‘Warm regards princess Suhyeon…’ He mumbles, voice sounding a bit awkward but the pronunciation is clear in a way you can see it is well-practiced, both the way he speaks your mother tongue and covers the awkwardness with a charming smile.
‘Suhyeon? I will be sure to send her regards in your way…Only if you give some to me too,’ you speak before you can process it, lips moving as you return the smile albeit with a bit of spark behind it. Something in you made you want to see his lips move into the shape of your name, so to hide your interest you fall down into a curtsy, that makes him move automatically into a deep bow.
‘Excuse me?’ He chuckles awkwardly, rising from the bow. ‘Princess Siyoon then? My apologies they sound quite the similar to me.’
‘Wrong again, third time the charm, as they say.’ You chuckle, but are fast to cover your mouth with your hand. And when he makes a grinning expression of realization dawning on his face your cheeks flush from the way his eyes light up and bows forward just slightly as in some soft apology without saying the words directly to you.
‘Ah…the crown princess then, I've been told you are more of a timid nature, and a bit older.’ He explains, addressing you by the title that makes you frown, is that how you are presented to outsiders, you wonder for a second.
‘Older?’ You ask, choosing to focus on the other part that is worth nitpicking, but your question is overlapped by familiar voices you recognize as your mother’s ladies in waiting. So you courtesy so lightly that is barely considered a courtesy, and you rush towards the entrance before they can see you converse with a man by yourself.
‘Ah sorry, let’s greet each other properly the next time, I hope to learn of your name too.’
You hear a second curse from him when you leave the room, also in his own language, now you are able to giggle freely, your mother was right, the curiosity in you would naturally be awakened if something or rather someone is out of your routine.
Your mother also holds in her curses but unlike the stranger you wish you had the name of, her expression is a different story. Sour like unripe grapes, you keep silent about the meeting, perhaps looking too forward for the satisfaction of learning about him on your own, there was always something in answering your own questions that is sweet, more sweet than the bitter tea you force down your throat as you try to pacify her.
After the church you are forced into a tea room, listening to your mother complain to other important women in the kingdom, you sit like a motionless doll on your mother’s side. Picking up an empty teacup third time in a row just so you could avoid commenting on new gossip.
‘You carry yourself with such composure, young princess. If I were a couple decades younger I would be fuming to be debuting in the same season as you are.’ The voice of a Marchondess rings in your ears as you focus back on the conversation on hand.
‘You are kind enough to say so, ma’am. Though, I am afraid I pale compared to stories that are mentioned next to your name, I can only but work towards such grace’
She laughs, the kind of laugh that makes your skin crawl from the facade that it presents. Other ladies add in compliments of their own and you can feel your mother beaming from pride, her mood bettering as she takes over the conversation. You fill in the uncomfortable gaps when you can, yet never speak long enough for those vultures of old nobles to sink their imaginative fangs into your neck, or to say, find too much about you.
‘Your conversations are as pleasant as you are my dear, must I comment, lucky is the drawing room that will have you as a guest and utmost lucky will be the household blessed with such charm, should they know of dullness with such a daughter.’ She continues on, the sweet words of praise spilling out of her red lips.
‘It is such a shame your older brother won’t be here to see it…well I truly hope he makes it in time for a wedding!’ The Duchess adds in, the older woman gleaming with what appears happiness yet the heaviness of your gaze makes you think the opposite.
‘Till the wedding? Please do not lament such things, my brother will be back before you know it. Last time, pardon my memory, but I think he wrote to father that he is recovering quite well, he even promised to be back before the winter solace.’
‘Winter solace? That is quite far.’
‘I am sure there is no need for me nor him to rush. After all I haven’t even had a proper event in society, courting takes time, doesn't it? And his grace, the crown prince said he would want to return fully healthy and celebrate the end of war, without leaving any regrets behind.’
The bitter smile overtakes her face, as she hides it with her gadgy fan. ‘His highness said so? Well it seems we will have many grand celebrations coming up?’
‘Indeed, I hope you attend most of it, for it would be a joy to speak with you again ma’am.’
Your corset is let loose when you meet him for the second time, three and half days later—not like you counted. You were chasing Siyoon, your youngest sister down the hallway into the room filled with what she says has a comfiest couch, her bubbly laugh filling in the space up to the painted ceiling of the gallery. The man is also there, wearing the same surprised expression when his admiration of the paintings that grace the walls is interrupted by a giggling ball with frills.
You clutch the ends of your dress tighter and catch your breath by the doorway, and just like before speak too fast, this time speaking his language, greedy part in you wanting to converse with him without anyone knowing what it was about, despite knowing your sister didn’t care enough to listen to your conversations.
‘Suhyeon appreciated the greetings as much as she does to the ornaments in her hair, tossed too fast. Apologies for that, I had no name to attach to it.’
‘Is that so..’ He says, and you are glad you spoke to him in his mother tongue, his voice is somehow deeper, it glides smoothly and there is no hesitation when the syllables form the words.
‘Is that her?’ He asks, tilting his head to the young princess who is fluffing out the small pillows on the couch before burning herself in them, disappearing in pale blue comfort.
‘No, that’s Siyoon. She still hasn’t learned her manners… Hope you don’t mind.’
‘Your pronunciation is amazing, have you travelled abroad before?’
‘No, I haven’t left the county, the daughters in the royal family can’t leave the palace until marriage.’
‘Oh…well, you must have had an amazing teacher, might I have know of his name?’
‘Too many to name but my elder brother taught me mostly. I hope you know of his name, he is the only male offspring in our family, so you have no one to confuse him with.’
In return of your articulated stab he shook his head, the fallen strands of his tied up hair falling before his eyes, he moved them away with a brush of his fingers.
‘You aren’t making this easy.’
‘Making what easy, your highness?’
‘You know of me? How?’
‘I don’t, I made a guess and was right, you hold yourself with importance only a royal offrisping would have. But it wouldn’t be hard to ask around either, I am sure you leave long lasting impressions on others the same way you did to me’
‘I left an impression?’ He tilts his head, the edges of his lips lifting up just slightly, as if to let you know he found satisfaction in your comment.
‘You called me old, it still stings.’
‘I haven’t…meant it in that way. Many praise you for your wisdom and wit so I assumed you would be at least past twenty winters, and well you…it is your springtime of…pardon my thoughts got better of me’
‘I see, how many winters have you lived then?’
‘One past twenty, this one shall be my twentieth one. I was born in autumn.’
‘Is that so?’
‘That is so.’
‘Your highness, how come you don’t have a servant with you?’
‘I may ask you the same’
‘This is the only place I've ever been in, remember? I know my way around and every servant can be considered as mine…you on the other hand. I find it strange you come to a gallery on the East, I am sure any servant would inform you the one on the West is the one that holds the most astounding of pieces.’
‘Perhaps I am here on a different quest?’
‘Is that so? Do share, I might be of help to fulfilling that quest.’
‘Must I? Please, it would be a shameful request on my part if I did…’
‘Oh my, if it raises such shame I must alarm the guards, you are in the presence of two young ladies…suddenly I worry what Siyoon will hear.’ You fake a gasp, as if to make a point.
‘Ah…no, don’t—’, he pauses, collecting his words, part of him believing you will come true at your previous threat of alerting the guards, ‘Dear Lord… I came to find you princess.’
‘Me? That’s awfully questionable your highness, even foreign royals are still guests on palace grounds. What might you inquire as to meet me without a formal preceding?’
‘To apologise?’ His words are followed by yet another tilt of his head, voice drawing the last syllable like it would prolong the sentence from finishing. You want to offer the doubt that he is simply of an awkward personality but your observations say otherwise, and part of you doesn't want to give him an easy way out.
‘You sound unsure?’
‘I am, I am also afraid that I have offended you by not offering proper greeting to you, and now I do realize you understood me cursing in the Lord’s house.’
‘You are a strange one…you say one but still haven’t even greeted me property for a second time, piling on offences are we?’
‘You too haven’t offered a greeting.’ He retorts back, at last catching on your teasing.
‘I don’t know who you are, without an introduction I only have guesses from the history books, and you are very much alive so those won’t help.’ You pause, measuring him, and that's enough to make his nerves burn — you make out a glisten of sweat above his temple which brings you joy. ‘Is it you who are here without permission, The Emerald Palace is home to unmarried ladies? Seems concerning in my eyes.’
‘I am Jeonghan, Yoon Jeonghan of a small kingdom on the East of the continent. It is a greatest honor to make your acquaintances your highness. I assure you I have no ill will towards any lady residing here, but carry guilt in my heart for not being worthy of my title when we spoke the last time, I wasn’t thinking clearly then.’
‘Jeonghan…’ You murmur under your breath, the name rolling off your tongue and you curtsy. ‘Bright is the day as your greeting, no cloudiness in your intentions is seen and appreciated. I hope that your visit will bear fruit because I don’t find offense in your greeting, and the lack of it. It is forgiven under the practice of speaking with me, even the old attribute you attached to me’
‘Once again, your wit precedes your age, I see that with my own eyes. Pardon me for my hasty words, you are as beautiful as the March sunbeam reflecting on the clear waters and the first blooms that caress the sight among the white snow—’
His compliments are cut off by a demanding voice of the young princess.
‘Sister, you are too loud.’ Siyoon hisses, seemingly finding her way out of pillows, her small head becoming a circle as she puffs out her chubby cheeks, you know you two aren’t loud but it seems she didn’t like the lack of attention on her. ’I have gotten bored, carry me.’
‘I will make haste, I am concerned they must have noticed me missing, have a fair day, princess…’ He mouths your name like it’s a secret, you feel the impact of your sister clinging on the bottom of your dress but your gaze doesn’t drift from his retreating back.
Your curiosity grows, it’s clear he is here in the country because your father’s words of your prospective hand in marriage but you are left to question everything else. His quick on feet answers and charming smile, the eyes that seem like deep depths filled with secrets you want to know, you always wanted to know, the small peak into something and you wanted to know every edge and corner of it.
And now, he became more interesting then any book your studied.
Update, I am alive. Also, first part of prince Jeonghan fic dropping tonight (an hour or so)! It's quite wordy but take in account I really like old romantic novels so it's inspired by them.
I been working on this for a long time too (like since autumn), it's a purely passion sidequest. I don't expect for it do well but I personally like it.
I will try to separate it to couple parts around 5-6k words instead of one long fic, but will post it once it's done as a whole (possibly on ao3 because it's easier to have a clear overview).
Happy New Year! There are many resolutions to name yet few and between that will come true but I hope to grow this blog and get better at writting! Also, I may be little shy when it comes to connecting with others but do know I appricate all of people who show apprication for my works no matter how small it is! Thank you! :)
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