♫ every guy in here wants me, but the thing is, i want you.
୨୧ summary: a stupid party game leads to you being dared to make out with the hottest guy there. who would have thought that’d be jisung?
୨୧ pairing: nerd!han jisung x popular!fem!reader
୨୧ genre: college!au, some fluff, smut MDNI.
୨୧ word count: 5.6k
୨୧ warnings: 18+, explicit language, messy makeout sesh in front of people lmao, pet names (baby), dry humping, hair pulling, biting, degradation?, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, kinda sub!jisung and dom!reader ig??, alcohol mention (in the first line mb), mentions of a breakup but it means nothing to the plot whatsoever, afab reader, there's probably more but idk lmk >_<
୨୧ author's note: okay sorry i had to project onto y/n like yes i was too dumb to understand interstellar and yes i did watch almost 300 movies (in 2024 tho)…anyways this was literally supposed to be like 3k words MAX (that's why i wrote it in lowercase as intended for my shorter fics) and then i did that thing where i go insane so here we are.
pt 2 here!
friday night. changbin’s place. alcohol, loud music, too many bodies to count.
this isn’t really your scene; it’s just the one that’s been forced upon you because of the crowd you hang with.
which also isn’t really your crowd. it’s just the one you were sucked into because pretty people always gravitate towards each other. and you liked some of the girls enough, but most of them basked in their popularity while you just allowed it to exist.
it has its perks, at least. you’ve gotten decent-to-good sex from the hottest guys on campus and an abundance of classmates willing to send over their notes whenever you need.
unfortunately, it also made you a target during truth or dare. yes, the stupid game that has stood the test of time among youthful children and brainless college students alike. horny guys either want to pick apart your brain or want their friends to give them a challenge that’ll end up with you in their lap.
it’s so stupid.
yet here you are, agreeing to play anyways. because you always play. people might start thinking the world is going to end if you don’t.
you recognize most of the faces around you. most fit right in. most belong there.
and then there’s han jisung.
he wasn’t always around. han jisung — immaculate gpa and spotless record — wouldn’t have been caught dead at a party previously. but half a year ago, he met hyunjin in chemistry and became a valuable resource and, eventually, a friend.
at first, it was just for help with studying and trying to maintain a passing grade. along the way, though, hyunjin learned jisung is actually kinda cool, in an only slightly weird nerdy way. so he initiated him into his friend group, and now jisung often found himself at parties he felt out of place in.
but unlike you, he even looks out of place. sitting — no, sinking — against the couch, glasses sliding down his nose, hoodie pulled over his hat like it’ll make him more invisible. you hate that he actually looks maddeningly attractive.
he’s been mostly quiet during the game. everyone’s kept their questions or dares relatively tame when it gets to his turn. they refrain from anything overtly sexual because truthfully, nobody’s even sure he has sex. nobody sees him looking at girls, let alone talking to them. but oh, he looks. at you, actually, when you aren’t paying attention, because you’re too damn beautiful.
as for you, however, they’ve been relentless. and now it’s your turn again, too many sets of eyes falling onto you at once.
“truth or dare,” jeno asks.
“dare,” you answer immediately. you’ve gotten tired of sharing the intimate details of your sex life, like who’s been your best fuck, who’s been the worst, who you’d be willing to sleep with again.
“i dare you,” he begins, eyes twinkling with mischief, “to make out with the hottest guy here.”
none of the guys try to hide their excitement. they all expect it to be them, smirking as your gaze falls over each of them one by one. mingi even purses his lips and blows you a kiss from where he sits across from you.
if they were going to put you through hell, you’d throw it right back in their faces. in an instant, you push off the couch and walk over to where three of them sit: jisung and his two friends, hyunjin and jeongin.
first, you direct your torture to hyunjin. standing between his legs, he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to bring you closer. when you don’t budge, he looks up at you with his chin resting on your stomach.
“sorry, lover boy,” you purr, fingers threading in his hair. and just like that, you move to the next one.
jeongin, a year younger than you but definitely hot and far from inexperienced. this time, you bend down and begin to inch towards him, hands on either side of his thighs.
“i fucking knew it,” he whispers to hyunjin, who only huffs in response. and just as he’s about to sit up to meet you halfway, you grab his cheeks and stop him there. he looks adorable with your grip puffing his lips out.
adorable. but not the hottest guy here.
“don’t get me wrong, innie,” you drawl. “you’re hot.”
you release his face and retreat to stand again. his eyebrows are furrowed, mouth agape — you’ve left him speechless.
and then, just like that, you drop down beside him. right onto’s jisung’s lap.
han fucking jisung, who probably has no idea what to do with someone like you.
“but he’s hotter.”
as you settle against him, it’s clear he’s completely shocked and confused. maybe even a little doubtful this is real. actually, those are sentiments shared by everyone in the immediate vicinity.
“what. the. fuck,” jeno mutters under his breath. he certainly didn’t think his dare would lead you to jisung.
you’re straddling him now, and with the new proximity, you’re certain you made the right decision. his flustered state only adds to the lustful curiosity brewing within you.
“me?” jisung asks quietly, waiting for the laughter. waiting for you to stand up and walk back to jeongin or hyunjin or any of the other guys playing.
it doesn’t come. you just sit there in his lap prettily, staring into his eyes framed behind his glasses.
“yeah, you,” you smile sweetly, and he swears he’s going to die right there on that couch. god, what a good way to go out — with a pretty girl on his lap, completely unaware of how his cock is already twitching beneath you.
wait. he has to kiss you first. then he can die happy for sure.
maybe you’ve read his mind. just as he remembers the dare, you push his hood back and snatch his hat, pulling it onto your head backwards. how do you look even better wearing something of his?
there’s nothing to hide him anymore and nothing to hold you back anymore. your arms slink around his neck and yank him closer.
and then to your surprise, he’s the one closing the final inches, crashing his lips onto yours desperately. it takes only a second for you to fall into rhythm, lips moving against each other with restraint at first. the rest of the room ceases to exist and the music fades into background noise you can barely make out.
right now, it’s just you two. and the only sounds truly reaching your ears are the quiet hums of contentment that escape him. your fingers trail delicately along his skin, leaving a path of goosebumps behind them.
somehow, the kiss slips into something hungrier, messier. you aren’t sure who initiates the descent. you? him? both of you at once? who knows. who cares. all that matters is that jisung is a good fucking kisser.
actually, nevermind — you’re pretty sure it was you. it probably happened when you tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck and slid your tongue inside his mouth as he groaned into yours. the sound was so sinful that you just had to taste where it came from.
and he lets you. encourages you, even, kissing you harder as you taste every inch and quickly decide he’s your new favorite flavor. in the midst of it all, you notice (with great disappointment) that his hands are still resting on his knees awkwardly, and that simply won’t do. you reach behind your back and grab his wrists lightly, guiding them to your ass.
he doesn’t tense or hesitate; he just keeps his hands there, squeezing lightly. now you’re the noisy one, moaning quietly into him, and he prays that you can’t feel his cock beginning to tent in his pants.
you pull away, not because you want to, but because you definitely feel it and it’s driving you crazy. but then he squeezes your ass harder and sucks your tongue back into his mouth, drawing you right back in.
jisung, the “shy” nerd you always asked hyunjin about (in subtle ways, like “do you think he could tutor me?” or “why doesn’t your friend ever talk to anybody besides you and jeongin?”), sucks your tongue like he might pass away if you part from him.
so you don’t. you bite his bottom lip between your teeth and tug, silently telling him you asked for this. your hands land on his jaw, fingers pressing into his skin roughly. a cool sensation sends a tingle up your spine, one of his hands finding a new home just under the hem of your shirt.
without thinking twice, you roll your hips against him. just once, but once is all it takes. everything in him stills, your clothed cunt creating friction right where he’s now dreadfully hard.
you’re still kissing him sloppily, but he’s no longer responsive. sensing his unease, you pull away again, and this time, he doesn’t lure you back in. you remain close to him, faces only centimeters apart.
“everyone’s watching…” he trails, voice low.
oh, right. there are still at least ten people watching this unfold, not expecting a simple makeout dare to turn into softcore porn before their very eyes. especially not between you and jisung.
“yeah,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his. you’re finally met with the complete visual of his wreckage — flushed cheeks, pupils blown wide, lips tinted a darker shade of pink from your lip gloss. and, of course, the very obvious erection poking into you.
“and i’m hard,” he sighs, but it comes out as almost a whine.
he sounds both needy and humiliated, and you’re damn near soaking in your panties at this point. at least it isn’t outwardly noticeable, otherwise you’d be in the same predicament as him.
“i know,” you tease with a smile, “i’ll get us out of here, mkay?” your voice is syrupy sweet, and he nods quickly at your words. something about it is so pathetic in a cute, intriguing way, so you lean forward and press another much more chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.
you swing your leg over him and throw his hat onto his lap, offering him some coverage for his…problem. even though everyone surely already knows it’s there — he’s only human after all. your aim is impeccable, and he swallows hard as he flashes you a look of gratitude.
when you rise to your feet, it’s like you’ve suddenly flipped everyone’s on switch; the space fills with chatter once more. this will probably be the talk of your friend group for at least the next two business days.
“jesus christ,” mingi curses.
“y/n,” lia giggles, “you’re crazy.”
“well fuck,” hyunjin groans, “i didn’t think this friendship would lead to more competition.”
while you’re unbothered and simply roll your eyes at them, jisung sits stiffly on the couch, clearly at least a little embarrassed by their comments. he manages a small smile when jeongin elbows him and whispers something in his ear.
“thanks for a great game guys,” you smirk, “but jisung and i are tapping out.”
you turn around halfway and reach your hand out towards him. when he clasps his hand in yours, you tug him lightly and he’s on his feet in a second, standing closely behind and using your body as a shield in place of his hat that’s now discarded on the couch.
it hardly seems possible, but disbelief spreads across everyone’s faces even further. they all stare wide-eyed until their expressions settle into knowing smirks and sly grins. the remarks continue as you lead jisung through the living room and up the stairs.
“more like he’s tapping you.”
“y/n, if you change your mind, i’ll be here!”
you’re familiar with changbin’s house from a number of parties and maybe a hook up or two. so you head straight for a room you know to be empty, opening it with your free hand and kicking it shut after.
now that it’s just you two in a quiet room (aside from the thumping music coming from below), jisung is even more confused. how the hell did you consider him to be the hottest guy in a group full of the certified campus fuckboys? and moreover, you felt him literally pop a raging boner and instead of laughing at him with your friends, you brought him upstairs. alone.
he’s silent, but you can tell he’s lost in thought. “what are you thinking?” you purr, snaking your hand into his hair again while he’s backed against the door.
“just uh,” he pauses, “you’re really, really pretty.”
it’s sweet and innocent, yet it has you clenching around nothing. because he’s so unlike the guys you’re used to. nerdy, shy, maybe a little bit of a loser, and then at the same time, he made out with you like he needed it to survive.
“thank you,” you giggle, taking his hand once more and guiding him to the bed. once you’re at the foot of it, you spin around and push his chest with enough force for him to fall to the mattress. you crawl onto him, finding yourself in a familiar position — straddling him, feeling every bit of his arousal.
he leans up on his elbows and looks around, suddenly concerned. which he really shouldn’t be, because he has an actual angel straddling him on a fucking bed and he’s probably ruining it.
too bad he’s unable to turn off his brain for a bit. “wait. whose room is this?” he asks, chewing on his bottom lip subconsciously.
“relax, jisung,” you assure. “it’s changbin’s old roommate’s. but he moved out, so now it’s a spare.”
that should quell his worries, but instead it unleashes a whole new flurry of them. he can’t stop himself from the sarcastic reply he shoots out.
“oh. okay, perfect. the communal sex bedroom. i’m sure this place looks great under black light.”
yeah, you’re definitely going to scoff in his face and leave him there and never look at him again, he thinks.
or not.
you snort and throw your head back, and even the small movements of your body bouncing as you laugh have him going wild.
“you think too much, you know that?” yes, unfortunately he does know that. “i’m friends with changbin, i know he keeps shit clean. mostly.”
of course you’re friends with the older boy whose house you were currently partying in. and whose spare room you were probably about to do unholy things in. jisung doesn’t think changbin even knows his name.
he falls back flat against the mattress, eyes trained on the ceiling now. “you have a lot of friends it seems,” he says, and you wonder if it’s meant to sound as envious as it does.
part of you wants to tell him it’s not worth it. that he should appreciate the few friends he has because at least they’re genuine; popularity doesn’t equate to fulfillment. but that sounds like a whole ted talk you’re not sure you have the time or willpower to get into when all you want right now is to bring the boy beneath you to absolute ruin.
“i guess,” you agree simply. “i use ‘friends’ loosely. it’s all transactional.”
“transactional?”
“mhm. that’s just how things go in these crowds. these people don’t really know me,” you shrug.
you’ve piqued his interest now — or rather, he’s been interested, but now he’s gnawingly curious. from the outside, you fit right in with everyone downstairs. you laugh easily, you complete stupid dares without a second thought, you flirt and flip your hair and flutter your eyelashes. to think there’s a whole other side under all of it makes him crave to know more.
“what don’t they know?” he questions softly.
“hm,” you hum, thinking of something that’ll really throw him off. “they don’t know that i logged almost three hundred movies on letterboxd last year.”
he scoffs in disbelief and you just stare him, unwavering.
“three hundred?!” you nod. “bullshit.”
you roll your hips against him again, this time as a punishment for doubting your movie-watching abilities. a ragged groan rips through him, and his hands find their way to your waist, holding you down firmly. begging for more.
“swear. i’m a devout cinephile,” you grin, grinding down on him again.
his breath hitches. somehow, you feel so good even through the layers of clothes. “how did you even have time for schoolwork?” he sputters. it’s honestly a little impressive that his mind is still on academics.
“some of us don’t spend all of our lives studying,” you joke. he clicks his tongue and you decide he deserves the real answer. you know he won’t judge you for it. “i went through a rough break up and spent like two weeks just watching movies in bed.”
he frowns, wondering what idiot would break your heart. then he pictures you, no longer laughing with your friends at a party, but crying in bed with a sad romance movie playing in the background. “fuck that guy,” he says sternly.
“yeah,” you whisper, “fuck him.”
that’s the end of that conversation. that’s the end of all conversation; your hands twist into the fabric of his hoodie and your lips come crashing down onto his. you pick up right where you left off on the couch — tongues entangling, teeth nipping, moans no longer hushed.
you work your way down to his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses on his jaw along the way. your hips grind steadily, clinging to the rhythm you’ve built. he’s learned his lesson, too; he grips your ass without you needing to direct him, helping you through your desperate movements.
“don’t worry. i won’t leave any marks,” you reassure as you kiss the skin of his neck carefully. “wouldn’t want the star student to look like trouble.”
“you can,” he says too quickly, unsure where the newfound confidence comes from. it disappears almost immediately after. “if you want.”
when you pull back in surprise, you find only confirmation. he nods and you grin wickedly, dropping back to his neck and sucking with more determination now. “y/n,” he sighs, his hands sliding up and lifting your shirt slightly as they rub along your side.
him saying your name like that is your undoing. you push off of him and stand from the bed entirely, and he’s too breathless to voice his disappointment. he doesn’t need to, anyway, because his eyes drop to where your fingers are making quick work of your zipper and button.
“fuck these pants,” you hiss, pulling them off hurriedly. there’s hardly a moment for him to take in the sight of your bare thighs and lacy panties. “yours too,” you return to his lap and begin working on his jeans now. he helps you yank them down, hearing the quiet thud as you toss them to the floor.
there’s one less layer between you, allowing you both to feel much more. you can feel how hard he is, straining against his boxers, a small damp patch from where he’s leaked precum onto them. he can feel how soaked your panties are, the wet fabric offering very little at this point. you’re soaked because of him. that thought alone could almost make him cum in his boxers.
with each roll of your hips, your pussy glides against his cock, and he knows he won’t last long like this. at least before there was the thick material of your jeans helping him maintain some composure, but now he can practically feel himself sliding through your folds.
“you’re really fucking wet,” he groans. such filthy words come out of him with an ease you didn’t expect, and it has you rutting against him harder now.
“yeah, that’s what happens,” you giggle through moans, “you know anatomy and physiology, don’t you, sungie?” you reinforce your question with a particularly slow, purposeful grind.
“shit,” he swallows harshly, feeling himself nearing the edge too quickly. “yeah. yeah, i do.”
there’s not much of a rhythm to your movements anymore. it’s all frenzied need, and his hands are digging into your thighs roughly, keeping you in place and guiding you. you almost can’t believe this is the same jisung you always saw in the library with his nose in a book.
“‘course you do. you’re so smart,” you purr, catching his lips in another sloppy kiss. you can tell he’s close, and it’s unbelievably sexy that he looks so fucked out just from making out and dry humping. “but i didn’t know the smartest guy on campus was so desperate. holding me down on your cock like this.”
the amused edge in your tone brings him even closer, and he bucks into you now, losing all care for how shameful he may seem.
“y/n,” he whines. “i’m seriously gonna cum in my boxers if you keep going.” which is a funny statement considering he’s the one doing half of it.
and if it’s meant to be a warning, you don’t take it as one. that’s exactly what you want him to do. you want him to fall apart for you without you even touching where he’s neediest. you have an inkling he wants to, too, considering the strength he’s using to keep you against him.
“good,” you coo, “cum for me just like this, ji.”
you shift your head towards the side of his face, grabbing his jaw and latching your lips onto his earlobe.
“fuck,” he moans, “you’re so perfect.” he can feel you smile against his ear, and for some reason that almost does it for him.
“have you always thought that, or is it just because i’m on top of you?” you ask teasingly, biting down softly.
he tries to turn into you — he wants to see your pretty face so badly — but your grip has his head held in place and you tsk at him for trying. so he’s forced to squeeze his eyes shut and surrender himself to pleasure.
“no! always have,” he grunts. “i thought you would’ve caught me looking at you all those times.”
maybe you have caught him a few times, but lots of people stare. you never thought too much of it. certainly never thought you’d have him unraveling for you like this.
“and did you ever think about me like this?” you lean back, pressing your hands against his chest while you grind down harder, faster.
now he can take in every inch of your face, from the strands of hair sticking to it to your blissed out expression. you are perfect, whether you’re sitting in the dining hall with your friends, laughing with guys at a party, or — especially — if you’re rubbing against his cock in someone else’s bedroom.
“yes,” he chokes out. “fuck, yes i did.” yes i do, he wants to say, but he can’t correct himself before he’s spilling into his boxers, thick white spurts coating the fabric as you milk it out of him.
after a minute, you lean down to kiss his cheek and pull off of him. you scoot up until you’re against the headboard, staring at the ceiling in wonderment. then you look further down the bed where jisung is still trying to catch his breath. han fucking jisung. jesus christ, what a night.
“wait,” he pants, struck with realization. “you didn’t cum, though.” he tilts his head back to look at you, the mattress dipping under him.
god, he’s cute. and considerate. which is more than you can say about most of the guys you’ve fucked.
“it’s fine, jisung. i had my fun regardless,” you smile sincerely. but that just won’t do. no way is he letting you think he’s okay with being the only one satisfied. no, jisung has never been selfish, and he won’t allow that to start with you of all people. in fact, he thinks it’d be cruel after how good you just made him feel.
“can i eat you out?” he blurts out, slightly regretting it when you furrow your eyebrows. his cheeks flush a light shade of red thinking you’re going to reject his offer. and to think he was really looking forward to tasting more of you.
“have you eaten a girl out before?”
he looks almost offended, flipping over dramatically to look at you rightside up. “yes i have, actually,” he scoffs. “i’m not a virgin, you know. i’m not that much of a loser.”
you laugh and pat the space next to you. though he’s still pouting from your question, he joins you by the headboard. “i wouldn’t think you were a loser if you were a virgin,” you whisper reassuringly.
“probably because you already do,” he sighs.
well, that’s not totally untrue, but it’s not like you looked down on him for it. not at all, not even before tonight. “no,” you shake your head, and he looks at you wordlessly, already sensing your dishonesty. “okay, kinda. but in an endearing way!” he groans, dropping his head to the pillow (how many other people have done things with these pillows? he doesn’t even want to know). “seriously. i think you’re really, really cute, sungie.”
there goes that nickname again making his heart thump erratically. you might actually be the death of him. he lifts his head back up and looks so pathetically hopeful you could melt right into the sheets.
“cute?”
“yeah. so cute that you don’t even realize that you’re hot.”
suddenly, you kiss him again, hard, and he whimpers into your mouth. the sound goes straight down to your soaked panties. perhaps he senses it, snaking his hand down and grabbing the inside of your thigh, right next to your heat. it tears a moan straight out of your chest, and when you pull back, his eyes are desperate.
“please?” he begs.
there’s no reason for you to deny what you both want. you nod quickly and that’s all it takes. he slips his glasses off, carefully placing them on the bedside dresser because yes, he’s still cautious even when he’s about to go down on a very pretty girl. and just as you’re about to make fun of him for it, he slinks his way down, stopping right above your cunt.
he presses his lips against you through the fabric, tongue darting out to flick your clit. your thighs clench from the new sensation and he holds them open, now leaving a trail of kisses along them.
“jisung,” you whine, “don’t fucking tease.”
he pauses, looking up at you sinfully. “but do you really want a loser like me to taste you? to know how sweet this pretty pussy is?” his fingers rub you in place of his mouth, slowly dragging up and down the wet material you really wish he would just rip off of you. but unfortunately, you’ve made him feel a bit too powerful.
“you think you’re in control now, baby?” you drawl with feigned sweetness. “you’re not. admit it — if i got up right now, you’d get on your knees and beg for me. right, jisungie?”
he huffs despite knowing your words are true. and he fears that you really might get up just to prove it. so he dips his thumbs into your waistband and pulls the pink lacy fabric down, the cool air hitting your pussy immediately.
but that’s not a good enough answer for you. you tangle your fingers into his hair and tug a little too harshly, forcing him to look up at you again. “i asked a question,” you taunt.
“right,” he mutters defeatedly, and though you would’ve liked a more enthusiastic agreement, that would have to do. you were already far too needy from all the night’s events.
“good,” you hum, “now make me cum.”
all traces of his previous teasing vanish when he licks a stripe through your folds, your slick coating his tongue. this time when you pull his hair, it’s not to punish, but to ground yourself.
because there’s no restraint in his actions. jisung — who you just heard complain about a “communal sex bedroom” and who you watched place his glasses down with so much care — devours you sloppily, hungrily. that careful, overthinking part of him was long gone, and his only thoughts now revolve around making you cum on his tongue no matter how messy it may be.
your back arches off the bed and he holds your thighs even tighter, wondering if he could leave his imprints on your skin for the next guy to see. hopefully there won’t be a next guy.
“fuck, jisung,” you moan.
“hm?” he hums into you, and the vibration sends a delicious jolt through your body. “am i doing good?”
you nod even though he can’t see. “so good,” you pant, “how the fuck are you so good?”
the praise only entices him, lapping at your pussy greedily. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud until you swear your vision blurs.
truthfully, he doesn’t have an answer to your question; sure, he’s eaten girls out before, but none of them have given him a particularly amazing reaction. but you have no reason to stroke his ego, so he assumes your words must hold truth. and god, does he feel too damn good about himself right now.
his name falls from your lips in strangled cries each time he dips his tongue into your hole or flicks it against your clit. the alternation between the two is so dizzying that you feel your release building rapidly.
that only furthers when he drags two fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness. with ease, he plunges those same fingers into you and focuses his mouth entirely on your swollen nub. the lewd noises fill the room along with your moans, and your sweet, wrecked voice calling out his name is enough to have his cock twitching to life yet again.
“ji, fuck,” you cry, “i’m so close, don’t stop. you’re doing so fucking good for me.”
for you. his life might just have a new purpose.
he pumps his fingers into you quicker now, curling them upwards against your g-spot in rhythm with the languid circles of his tongue around your clit.
“cum for me, please?” he begs, only parting from you for a moment. “right on my tongue. please, baby.”
his words are all you need to come undone, clenching around his fingers and gripping his hair as he works you through your orgasm. he slows his pumps but doesn’t stop, not until your back falls to the mattress and your grip loosens.
even then, he doesn’t pull away without one final slow, tantalizing lick up your center, just to savor it in case he never gets to have you like this again.
“oh my god,” you breathe out, watching his movements out of the corner of your eye while you try to bring yourself back down to earth.
he licks his lips and sucks his fingers clean before reaching for his glasses. when he puts them back on, he’s no longer jisung who made you cum on his fingers, but jisung who sits awkwardly at parties. you’ve discovered that you’re actually quite fond of both sides.
“please tell me you weren’t lying about all that,” he pleads.
“what? that you did good?” he nods, reverting back to his usual shy self. like the glasses have some kind of power to turn it off and on. “nope. han jisung is a really good pussy eater.”
his cheeks dust with embarrassment, as if he didn’t just devour you a few minutes ago. the jisung you recognize is back, and you can only laugh at his sudden 180.
the room fills with silence as you both mull over the past hour internally. there’s no regret, just…confusion? excitement? and exhaustion. lots of exhaustion. he’s sprawled out at the foot of the bed while your head is on the pillows, and if you weren’t nearly naked in changbin’s spare room, you could probably fall asleep like this.
then his voice cuts through the silence and you force your eyes open. “favorite christopher nolan movie?” he asks — a very important question. probably should have come before the orgasms, even. his head is turned to face you against the mattress, hoping you’ll say…
“the dark knight.”
he narrows his eyes at your answer, not totally pleased. it’s a solid one, but not the right one. this isn’t an opinion-based question to him. “interstellar,” he shoots back.
you pull your head back in shock. “really? you strike me as a superhero guy,” you muse.
“yeah, spiderman,” he scoffs. like you should just know he prefers spiderman over batman. common jisung knowledge of course. you’d save the debate about battinson for another day.
“right. cause you’re basically peter parker.”
“huh?”
he waits for you to elaborate, but you move on far too quickly. “and you’re probably into all that crazy space shit that went over my head in interstellar,” you groan. that causes him to sit up immediately, face contorting in horror.
“what? you didn’t understand the masterpiece that is interstellar?” you blink at him. “oh my god. we have to go watch it right now. but just be prepared, i will be on my knees banging on the tv right with matthew mcconaughey.”
somehow, you’re wide awake now, fully enticed by the prospect of watching a movie with him. such a simple domestic thing that has you grinning and laughing at his enthusiasm.
“okay, yeah, maybe you are a loser…”
you laugh and he deadpans at you before breaking into laughter himself. it’s comfortable and easy, and you both begin shoving limbs into clothes hurriedly so you can get out of here and indulge yourselves in three hours of “crazy space shit.”
Summary- Poised to inherit Korea’s largest gaming company in a few months, the world looks at Jeon Jungkook as a symbol of envy. Why wouldn’t they? He has everything, riches, power, and according to the rumour mill, endless women. Little do they know that his father’s company is on the verge of downfall, he barely has respect of his employees, and regardless of the rumours, he’s just a virgin saving himself for true love.
word count - 18.5k (buckle up buckaroooos!)
pairing- ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader
rating- R
genre- angst, smut, fluff, chaebol!au
warnings- virgin!Jungkook, mentions of cheating, divorce, open relationships, descriptions of anxiety and stress, car accident, hospitals, smut in the form of oral sex (m and f receiving), Jungkook is a hopeless romantic but wbk
a.n- Well here it is martians (did i make my own fandom name for a fandom that doesnt exist? yes, sir. ty marketing 101 in uni lmfao)! The collab that I forced all friends to do with me. Thank you @hobiandsprite, @taegularities, @oftenderweapons, @biaswreckme, @honeyj00ns for enabling my 3am thoughts. I truly love and appreciate you all!
This is an angsty piece that I challenged myself with because I wanted to create holistic characters rather than just focusing on romance (dw theres lots of that there too!).
I hope you enjoy this! See you next month for the second part hehe!
A big warm thank you to @oftenderweapons @hobiandsprite and @taegularities for beta reading this monster even though i didn’t finish it till a few hours ago! ily guys you keep me sane and happy 💕
As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌
-
Sometimes, when he was all alone, or when he was working hard, Jungkook felt it. A little tug on his little finger. It didn’t hurt nor burn, but left behind tingles. A little spark that lifted his finger into the air involuntarily. It was pretty prominent when he was younger but not much anymore. Now, much to his disappointment, it came rarely.
His doctor said it was most likely muscle fatigue, but Jungkook liked to believe in old myths instead. He wasn’t superstitious, but he liked the idea that somewhere, there was another person whose pinky twitched the same time as his - that some ancient omnipotent god had tied the two of them up with an invisible thread. A thread that may tangle, or expand, or shorten, but would always lead him to the one he was meant to be with.
Perhaps this belief was silly, a dreamer’s hyperbole, but Jungkook really really wanted it to be true. He couldn’t understand the point of life otherwise. Would god really be cruel enough to create the crushing monotony of existence without creating the reprieve of a partner to bear it with?
IN WHICH With his father’s sudden illness, his carefree life comes to an end. It’s expected of him to take over the throne and fulfill his first born duties, one of them being having a queen by his side. He doesn’t see the point, doesn’t want to trap a woman in a marriage with him knowing there could be someone out there who would make her happier, but the matter is not in his hands, and the least he can do for his people is marry. Even if it means living with someone he has no feelings for.
pairing » first born!Seungcheol x first born!fem!reader
genre » fluff, smut, angst
featuring » other svt members, Daniela (katseye), Yeonjun, Soobin and Taehyun (txt), original characters, Riki (enhypen), Mingi (ateez)
contains » arranged marriage, alcohol consumption, anxiety, dual pov, reader has siblings, protective!Seungcheol, slowburn, marriage, oldest daughter!reader, oldest son!seungcheol, mention of illness, jealous!seungcheol, reader is mentioned to be 25, jealous!reader, drunk dudes objectifying women in one instance, food mentions
warnings » SMUT, oral (f. & m. rec.), unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise, body worship, virgin!reader, fingering
word count » 40k
↪ izzy adds... oh what a journey this was. I can't believe I finally finished writing this. Honestly, I wouldn't have if it weren't for the people on my side. As always, thank you yun @filmsbyun for writing with me, reassuring me at times where I felt like this entire thing sucked, and helping me brainstorm. Thank you to luna @belovedgyu and rae @nerdycheol as well for their support and excitement whenever I shared a bit with them and also when I showed them the whole thing. You were both great hype women. Then lastly, thank you to Viv @heartepub for helping me beta read and making sure I'm not just putting out bullshit into the world <3 I appreciate all of you so much
playlist | veloria tales | svt m.list
“This is the third week His Majesty, the King, hasn't been able to join us. I think it’s time,” Kaito, the council representative, proclaims as he looks around the throne room. William, the King’s Head Advisor, stands right beside him, looking slightly awkward. Seungcheol follows Kaito’s gaze, meeting eyes with his brothers.
The two of them are the embodiment of opposites. While Kaito stands with his head high, confident in himself and what he brings in front of the Princes on council’s behalf, William’s head is rather down, his posture flawed. Kaito towers over him with his black hair covering his forehead and hiding the pimples that still sometimes appear on his skin. On the other hand, William’s gray locks fall into his blue eyes, wrinkles covering his whole face. He is old, not as old as his father, but it shows.
Still, they’ve both proven themselves more than enough, always getting the King out of trouble when needed. It’d be foolish for the Prince and his brothers to question their judgment.
“His Majesty’s condition is stable at the moment, but the chance of getting better is slim, Your Royal Highness,” Wonwoo, the King’s best Doctor, explains, and Cheol hums.
“What shall we do then, William?” He asks, turning to face the Head Advisor again. He clears his throat, briefly glancing at the Queen in the corner before looking at the three Princes in front of him again.
“It’d probably be for the best if a new King takes over. So that in the eyes of people, the change looks like His Majesty’s retirement instead of a sign of weakness.”
“Everyone agreed on this?” Cheol raises an eyebrow and William nods, making him sigh.
“This is the best we can do for our kingdom and its people,” Kaito assures him. There’s not much he can do if the council deemed this the right move. He’s been raised for this exact moment, trained in etiquette, strategy, and politics just so he could take over the throne and lead the people one day.
He just hasn’t expected for the day to come so soon.
“I assume coronation shall be as soon as possible?” Joshua, the second born, questions, finally letting the room know of his presence. The council representative exchanges a glance with the Doctor, agreeing.
“When?” Cheol asks, his mind clouded with what this change might bring. No more sneaking around the palace and drinking in the kitchens with his lords, no more sword fights with his friends just because they were bored, and no more fooling around.
“Yesterday preferably, Your Royal Highness.”
“Let me change my question,” Seungcheol tilts his head, his irritation building up at all the stalling. He just wants to get this over with. “When is the earliest you can arrange a coronation? And make my father as presentable as possible so he doesn’t faint while placing the crown on my head?”
“His Majesty is in the best care. We’re trying hard to make sure he feels better,” Wonwoo proclaims, making the Prince grit his teeth.
“When?”
“A month,” Kaito interrupts. “Give us a month to prepare everything, Your Royal Highness.” The Prince runs his hand through his black hair, nodding.
“Is that all for today? I feel rather tired.”
“Of course, sire.”
He wants to speak up again, admonish the council member for his mistake because he isn’t the King, thou should not be called a sire, but he bites the words back. Because that’s what he is now, isn’t he? The King. And this is something he’ll have to get used to.
“Everyone leave,” he dismisses them, stopping Joshua and Chan when they try to step away. “You two stay.” The two younger exchange a glance, watching everyone else leave the throne room after the Prince’s command. The new role suits him more than he realizes.
“Your Majesty,” Chan mocks a bow as soon as everyone is gone, making Cheol scoff.
“Don’t call me that. It’s weird.”
“It’s what you’re going to be,” Joshua reminds him. “The King. Our King.”
“I hope you’ll leave me some land when you start ruling,” the youngest mumbles, making his way to the throne and plopping down as if it’d belong to him. “I guess I won’t get the chance to sit here in front of our people.”
“Do you want to?” Cheol raises his eyebrow. “I’ll gladly get the burden off my back and leave the kingdom to you.”
Joshua shakes his head, “for that we’d both have to fall dead and so far, I’m still enjoying my life. So no, thank you.”
“He could also fight me for the crown,” he shrugs, meeting the youngest’s eyes. “If that’s what he feels like doing, of course.” Chan quickly stands up and walks from the throne, his eyes flashing with the realization of what they are talking about. If he wasn’t so lucky, and his brother wasn’t so understanding, he might as well drop dead for treason.
It’s quiet for a beat before Joshua speaks again. “Who’s going to inform our sister?”
The oldest immediately shakes his head, shutting down the conversation before it can start. “She doesn’t need to bother herself with such things. Politics shall not burden her, she’s too young.”
“She’s my twin,” Chan reminds him.
“And she is also a Princess,” Cheol argues. The two younger Princes exchange a look, saying everything with their eyes. As much as they love Seungcheol and everything he does for them, sometimes his best interest doesn’t align with their sister’s, and they know it bothers her. But as the soon-to-be King of Veloria, there is nothing they can say to him.
“She shall know her father is slowly dying.”
“I’m sure William has that covered. One of her ladies-in-waiting might tell her.”
Joshua raises his eyebrow, “and you think that’s how she shall find out? From one of her gossip-loving ladies?”
“If you want to take it upon yourself to tell her, feel free to,” Cheol brushes him off. “But don’t let her think we need her help. She might want to jump into a marriage just to help with alliances and help people think about other things while our father goes. You know her.”
Joshua nods. That’s the best he can do at the moment anyway. Arguing would be pointless. He is right. He can never predict what their sister will do at times of crisis. Because no matter how far away the oldest Prince wants to keep her from politics, she was raised by her mother, a woman who always believed Princesses were good for more than just standing beside a King and giving him an heir.
♡⸝⸝
It’s safe to say the following days are hectic.
Seungcheol moves around the palace with William behind him, pointing out everyone he should know and greet so as to not make any enemies for the kingdom. It surprises him how many lords and ladies from different kingdoms are currently paying a visit to them. The word of a new King coming on the throne spread fast, and lords from all around the world came to show their faces and remind him of their places, while their mothers showed off their daughters, hoping for the future King to choose them as his future wife.
“It is true you shall find a Queen to stand by your side and show the people you’re as strong a ruler as the previous King, Your Royal Highness.”
“Why is a Queen necessary for this?” He raises his eyebrow, smiling as he walks past servants in the halls.
“You need an heir. And when the people see they’re led by a pair of people who love each other, it always helps.”
“But you don’t want me to marry for love,” he thinks out loud, making William blink a few times at his sudden boldness before he regains his calm demeanor.
“Love comes in many forms, Your Highness. Some people never fall in love, and some die from loving too hard.”
“Which one is your case?” Cheol wonders, never looking back to meet his eyes.
“I don’t have time for love, Your Highness.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he mumbles. It’s the last thing he says for a while after, simply nodding as William helps him grasp everything.
But if he is honest, his help feels more like nagging. Nothing Cheol says or does seems like enough, and William gives him a disapproving look on his every step. Eventually, he gives up, shutting down completely and just listening. He bites his tongue, pushing back all the insults and arguments that build in the back of his throat every time the Head Advisor treats him like a child, a little, naive Prince who shouldn’t come to power just yet.
It’s clear he doesn’t like the idea of Seungcheol taking over but there is nothing he can do about it, not when the King has barely moved in the past month, resting in his bed with maids running around him, making sure he has everything he needs.
It really doesn’t feel great. It’s not like he asked for the power. If he could, he’d leave the crown to his father for another hundred years. But that’s impossible, and William has to accept that just like he did. He is the crown Prince, the first born of the Veloria King, and as much freedom it gave him, as much responsibility it brings.
“Let’s call it a night,” Cheol interrupts William’s rambling about the coronation. He’s barely comprehending any of the information, too tired to register the words as they leave William’s lips. It’d be better for both of them if they just leave this for a different day.
William squeezes his eyes shut, waving off the maid that just came inside so they’re left alone in the throne room again. “Your Highness, this can’t wait any longer. Your coronation is near and people are whispering about it. It needs to be perfect. Based on how it goes, your reign will follow,” the words rot on his lips, making it more than obvious he isn’t happy with the amount of things he has to explain and teach the new King.
“How fancy you make my coronation has nothing to do with how I’ll rule my kingdom,” the Prince disagrees, waving at the knights guarding the door to open them because he is leaving. “I’ll see you tomorrow, William. Hopefully we are both in a better mood, otherwise our conversation will be far from pleasant.”
The door shuts behind him again, leaving the Head Advisor standing there, frustration building up. He needs the King to get back on his feet. And he needs it now. “Call for Doctor Wonwoo. I need to speak to him.” One of the guards nods, excusing himself before leaving the room to fetch the Doctor.
Seungcheol drops on his bed, allowing his eyes to close for a short second and his mind relax. It’s been a long day, and all he wants to do is turn it off and let others deal with everything. It might have worked had he still only had the responsibilities of a Prince, but right now, he has more things on his plate. He needs to think of the coronation, his sick father, protecting his people, and finding a Queen.
He needs to sit down tomorrow and listen to all of William’s suggestions. If he’s lucky, by the end of his speech, he’ll be able to pick a wife.
It feels wrong to think about it like this. He knows why it’s important to marry, why it’s expected of him, but the thought of trapping an innocent woman in order to make a new ally is ridiculous. He saw what marriage has done with his father. For eight years, he looked miserable, putting on a fake act every time he was asked to pose with Joshua’s mother for a portrait. They were even less than business partners.
On the other hand, he also saw the way his father’s eyes lit up every time his third wife walked into the room. The way he showered her in love and did his best to raise Chan and his twin sister right. Whenever he spoke of his wife, it was like a story from a fairy tale. A man truly loving a woman. It was a rare sight in this society, but not non-existent.
Cheol always knew that wasn’t written in his stars. His sibling might have a shot, they might be able to walk the Earth and take their time choosing a partner whom they love, but it wasn’t meant for him. His role was clear. He is meant to marry the Princess who brings the most for his kingdom and produce an heir with her. It’s expected for them to be business partners and treat each other as so while searching for love and pleasure elsewhere.
A loud knock on the door interrupts his thoughts, making him raise his head. “Yes?” He calls out and the door opens, his eyes meeting with Joshua’s. He’s not alone, though — three other men stand by his side with grins on their faces and alcohol bottles in hands. He smirks, nodding at the guards outside his door to let them in.
He stands up from his bed, watching his two brothers, one of his closest friends Mingyu, and Joshua’s lord-in-waiting — Choi Yeonjun — step inside. “Taehyun, get us more bottles from the kitchen and don’t let anyone else in. If William wants to speak to me, tell him to wait till the morning, no matter how important he says it is.” The guard at the Prince’s door nods, bowing slightly before closing the room and leaving to fulfill his task.
“We heard it was a hard day, King,” Mingyu teases, getting Cheol to roll his eyes. They all take a seat on the bed, kicking their boots off and settling the champagne and beer bottles in front of them.
“So we thought we could cheer you up,” Chan grins, already opening one of the bottles.
“William makes me sick every time I’m around him,” Cheol admits, taking another sip of his beer. He’s not sure how much he had until now, but he knows he’s getting tipsy.
“You can name a new Head Advisor after your coronation,” Lord Choi speaks up, sharing a champagne bottle with Chan.
Cheol’s eyes widen, the realization he doesn’t have to spend his ruling with William behind his back settling it. “Who would I name, though?”
“How about Seungkwan?” Mingyu suggests with a shrug. The moment all eyes land on him he wishes he hasn’t said anything after all. It’s been years since he’s gotten close to the Princes, and it still feels like he is doing something wrong when he is around them. He doesn’t address them by their titles when they are alone or holds his tongue like other guards, always worried they might change their opinion on him and send him away for disrespecting the royal family.
But the truth is far from it, and Seungcheol feels grateful to him every time he is around. He can’t remember a time of his life where he’s been able to laugh freely and forget about his title. With Mingyu, he can do so. And even just this one person, one person who doesn’t care about his rank or if he’ll make a good impression, is enough.
“The scholar?” Joshua questions. “I’ve heard about him.”
“Is he good?” Cheol blinks, trying to match the name with a face.
“The best,” he agrees. “I heard he’s the best student the academy has had in years.”
“He knows politics and finds interest in other royal families. He might even know your weaknesses,” Mingyu explains, catching the Prince’s interest.
“Do you guys think William will get mad if I ask him about naming a new Head Advisor tomorrow?” The guys laugh, their voices filling the room as they drink into the night, leaving their responsibilities behind for now. It can wait. Ruling can wait.
“Tomorrow, I’ll find myself a wife,” Cheol proclaims, raising his beer bottle high above his head as if he was celebrating.
“A wife?”
He nods, taking a sip. “A Queen. We need one, right? It’s what society wants from me, it’s what you all want from me,” he points at every single one of them, making them raise their brows.
“You’re drunk,” Joshua points out. “You should sleep.”
“I think not,” he argues. The thought of going to sleep just for tomorrow to arrive isn’t pleasant. If he’s lucky, he’ll last until the morning and convince his guards not to let anyone in because he is sick. Even though he wouldn’t be surprised if William bothered him despite it.
Rather than looking like a fool who can’t hold his alcohol in the morning, maybe he should go to sleep. He needs to look his best and prove to everyone he can be the person they need him to be. The King. A strong leader who knows what to do and how to present himself.
Alright, he can do so.
He waves his hand in the air, sending the four men out. “If you need anything, feel free to call for us, Your Royal Highness,” Yeonjun proclaims, staying in the right mind even with alcohol staining his breath.
“Yes,” he nods, just to show he comprehends what he is saying. Even though he’s not sure if he truly does. The alcohol is making its way to his head.
“Good night, brother,” Chan smiles, patting his shoulder lightly. “May the alcohol leave your body before William finds you.” Mingyu beside him snickers and Joshua nudges him, shaking his head.
“Good night, our future King of Veloria,” Mingyu bows, his lips curved into a teasing smile. But Seungcheol can’t find it in himself to care enough, the only thing on his mind right now being the great sleep he is going to get.
Everything is happening too fast.
You’re not ready, you realize as you look outside of your chamber window, taking in the sight of the beautiful garden. Your grip on the edge tightens as you steady yourself, your head spinning. It feels like you can’t breathe. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath with your mouth and counting down numbers.
Ten, nine, eight…
When that doesn’t work, you open your eyes again, focusing on the garden in front of you. Lilies, roses, daisies, foxgloves, anemones… You take a deep breath again, calming yourself as your eyes scan every flower in the garden.
“My lady, are you okay?” You turn around with a smile when you hear Daniela’s voice, putting on the best show you can.
“Never been better,” you lie, glancing out of the window once more before paying her your full attention. “What is it?” You wonder, hoping your smile is convincing enough and she won’t ask any more questions.
“The carriage is ready. Your family is waiting for you,” she informs you, and you feel like throwing up.
It’s too fast.
You nod either way, following her through the hallway as you go over the flowers in your garden again. When you get outside and the cold air hits your face, you feel better immediately. Daniela, your lady-in-waiting, tells you about how excited she is to step her feet into the Veloria kingdom, and how lucky your family is to be asked to join the coronation of the future King Seungcheol. You tune out her words, focusing on the laughter of kids running around the gardens and your mother's voice as she admonishes your brother to stop jumping around.
You’ve heard it many times in the past week. It’s always the same story too. You’re being constantly reminded of how grateful you should be for being the one the future King of Veloria noticed because it means you don’t have to worry about your future anymore and can live at ease that you won’t end up a spinster. But you feel everything but ease.
You never counted on getting married for love, it was always obvious your father would find you and your sisters the right lover that could help your kingdom grow. You can’t even blame him for it, because it is the right thing to do in his situation. A part of you just wishes it wouldn’t be so soon, and that you could at least have some say in who you’re marrying.
“Darling,” your mother, the Queen, welcomes you with a smile. It’s way cleaner compared to your half-assed one.
“Mother,” you drop into a curtsy, your head down as you bend your knees.
“We are late.”
“Then we shall get inside,” you interrupt her before she can continue, glancing back at Daniela so she can join you in the carriage with your siblings.
She simply shakes her head with an apology, making you frown. “Darling, join our carriage so we can enjoy your company while it lasts,” your mother’s voice is sweet and for a second, you forget why you’re so scared of this change. She makes you feel like there’s nothing to worry about, that courting and marrying a complete stranger is alright. You nod, smiling at your younger siblings as you walk past them before sliding into the carriage where your father is already waiting.
You sit opposite him while your mother joins his side, wrapping her arm around his with a smile on her face. You’re not sure if they’ve ever been in love. If they got to experience the feeling you’ve read so much about. Even a simple moment where their heart would race faster, their head spinning, or the physical pain in their chest from not being near each other.
You’d like to believe your mother knows the feeling. That she does love your father in her own way and all her smiles are genuine, but you’d be a liar if you said you think your father feels the same. But their marriage works, and that’s what matters, right? They’ve had four beautiful children and even though they might not be in love in the same way you read about, they’re good together and understand each other.
Maybe you can find that when you marry as well. It might not be love, but understatement is just as good, isn’t it? You’ve heard many great things about Prince Seungcheol. Apparently his education is excellent, his face more than worthy of his title, and his kindness overwhelming. If he’s even half as good as people say, there shouldn’t be any problems with coming to an agreement that suits both parties.
“Father, have you thought about how long you’ll stay with us yet?” You ask as the carriage starts and the sound of the horses in front moving reaches your ears.
“We’ll see after the coronation of the new Veloria King,” he says and you nod, knowing that’s the most you’ll get out of him. If you could have a say, you’d ask for them to stay until the day of your wedding, but you doubt they’d even as much as consider asking for your opinion on the matter. You’ll be lucky if they even find the time to visit you on your wedding day.
“Darling, how are you feeling?”
You glance at your mother, offering her another one of your smiles. “I’m great,” you lie. “I’ve been talking about Prince Seungcheol with my ladies-in-waiting and can’t wait to meet him.”
“Can’t wait to see if the gossips are true?” Your father interrupts and your eyes widen.
You quickly shake it off, disagreeing. “I haven’t heard any gossip, father. My ladies-in-waiting only assured me of the Prince’s kind heart and academic achievements.” He hums, and you wonder what’s on his mind. Is there anything else you should know about the Prince? Should you feel worried?
You brush the thoughts aside before they overtake you, glancing outside the carriage and watching the nature pass you by. If you’re looking forward to something, it’s the large garden of Veloria Kingdom you’ve read about in your childhood. You want to see the new scenery, much more than the Prince if you’re honest.
There’s a number of servants waiting for you and your family when you arrive. You step out of the carriage with the help of one of the knights, immediately looking around and taking in the sight.
“My lady.” You snap out of your thoughts and look at the knight beside you. “Let me take you to your chamber so you can settle in.” You nod, briefly glancing at your siblings before following the knight’s lead.
“What is your name?” You wonder, looking around as you walk through the halls.
“Kang Taehyun,” the knight answers without sparing you as much as a glance. He doesn’t say much but you expected that. Some might consider it rude if he decided to start a chat. No one can say anything if it’s you asking him questions, though.
“What’s the shortest way to get to the gardens, Taehyun?”
You listen carefully as he explains the floor plan of the palace to you, picturing the way you’ll go in your head. “There’s no need for you to worry about that, Your Highness. There shall always be a knight ready to assist you when you want to go on a stroll.”
You hum back. It’s no surprise, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t hoping for more freedom. “How about my lady-in-waiting? Can’t she accompany me instead?”
“We’ve been asked to look after you at any time, Your Highness,” he answers simply, stopping when he reaches your chamber. “Dinner will be in an hour. Until then, if you need anything, I’ll be here.” You shake your head, walking past him and closing the door behind you. It’s only then that you feel like you can breathe properly. You take a moment to relax before looking around the large room, appreciating the work they did for you. Everything is perfect, neat.
You walk around your new room for a while, picking out a new dress for the dinner and laying it down on your bed. You could probably fit three more dresses there. It makes you wonder just how large the King’s bed must be if this is what you get. Even your room is much bigger than the one back home. It doesn’t surprise you that it’s Prince Seungcheol whom your father deemed appropriate for you. Alliance with a kingdom like this could help your homeland a lot.
You open the door again, finding Taehyun already waiting for you. It catches you off guard, making you flinch. He clears his throat, not a single sign of emotion on his face as he looks at you. You shake your head slightly, reminding yourself why you came out. “Hi,” you smile. “Could you please get me a maid or my lady-in-waiting? I need help changing into my dress for dinner.” You watch his eyes trail behind you, noticing the light pink dress on your bed. He nods, not questioning anything as he turns on his heel.
You watch him leave the hallway, closing the door behind you as you wander through the chamber, following his guide and getting outside again, straight into the gardens.
They are as beautiful as the books painted them to be. You can’t get enough as you take in the sight of the flowers around you, breathing in the fresh air. While everything about your situation feels fast, making your heart race, it all slows down when you walk through the Veloria gardens, taking your time with exploring them. You know you should hurry, that Taehyun is most certainly looking for you by now, but you’d rather risk not being able to look at everything today — which you know you won’t be able to do either way if you want to be on time for the dinner — than rushing it and making the one place that calms you do the opposite.
“Your Highness.”
You stop in your walk, a smile on your face. It came later than you expected. You don’t turn completely, letting Taehyun wait for a moment longer as you take in the sight of the lilies in front of you. He comes closer to you, stopping right beside you and looking at the same flowers. It’s only then that you look up, blinking confusedly when it’s not Taehyun on your side.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize even though you’re not truly sure what for. Getting here without an escort? Not recognizing him? Stepping here uninvited? Maybe all of the above, actually.
“What for?” He tilts his head, taking in the sight of you. You hesitate, opening your mouth before closing it again. He smiles, resting his right hand over his heart and bowing, “Seungcheol,” is all he says.
But it’s enough to make your eyes widen, realization hitting in. “Your Royal Highness,” you quickly drop into a courtesy, closing your eyes in regret. You should have realized. This was stupid of you, so, so stupid—
“Please, Seungcheol is fine,” he holds your hand in his, helping you straighten again. You gaze into his eyes, swallowing nervously. He looks around again, encouraging you to walk with him. You do, of course you do, glancing at him every now and then, worried you just ruined your first impression.
Despite your nervousness, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by your slip up at all. His dark eyes stay focused on the path ahead, black strands falling in front of them. His eyebrows are thick, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top, exposing bits of his skin. The longer you look at him, the more you understand everything you’ve heard about him. He is handsome. You can see why Princesses from other kingdoms were so eager to meet him, hoping it’d be them he’d pick as his future wife. It also makes you wonder a lot more what led him to choosing you. Out of all the young Princesses looking for a spouse, why was it you he decided to pay attention to?
“Was your ride here okay?” He breaks the silence after a moment.
“Perfect, Your Royal Highness.”
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. Looks like he’ll have to earn his way for you to call him by his name instead of his title. “And you? How are you feeling, my lady?”
You put on the same fake smile you showed everyone back home as you look at him and lie again. “Peachy, Your Royal Highness. It’s an honor to be here.”
He hums at your response, noticing the light drop of your eyes when you talk. It’s clear you’re lying, but it’s also clear you won’t tell him the truth even if he asks. So instead, he settles for the more sensible approach, changing the topic of conversation. “I’ve heard about your interest in our gardens, is that why you ran away from your guard?”
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to,” you quickly shake your head. “It won’t happen again.”
“That wasn’t my question,” his voice is gentle as he talks to you, much gentler than you expected. The Princes you’ve had the honor of meeting weren’t exactly welcoming, always making you feel like they were above you, like you were theirs to play with. But Prince Seungcheol doesn’t make you feel that way. You feel almost equal.
You nod slightly, looking at the path ahead of you. “I’ve read about your gardens my whole life, about everything they have to offer. And I must tell you, none of the books I’ve read grasp the feeling of being here enough. What you have here is truly special.”
“I’m glad they are to your liking,” he glances at you, meeting your eyes. You offer him a smile, this time a real one. “You are free to visit anytime. And if you have any questions, or suggestions, one of our gardeners will love to listen,” his eyes trail off, finding one of the men keeping the Veloria gardens in their beauty across the bushes lining your right, pointing him out. “But I’d appreciate it if you visited with one of our guards from now on.”
You part your lips just to push them together again, nodding. He’s not asking for much, the least you can do for him is take a guard with you when you’re going somewhere. Maybe you can get closer to Taehyun this way too and make your time here less lonely. Sure, you have Daniela but she can’t be with you at all times. A royal guard meant to protect you surely can though.
“Of course, Your Royal Highness.”
He stops in his track, turning to face you. “How about Prince?” He offers and you blink confusedly. “If I can’t get you to drop the full title, then how about you just address me as Prince? Prince Seungcheol?”
If your mother saw this, she would have called for your teacher immediately, insisting on having to learn your manners from scratch. You know your place, that no matter the fact you are to be married he is still above you, but it’s hard to think of him that way when he offers you his warm smile, your eyes getting lost in his. Prince Seungcheol makes you want to be close with him, to the point you can drop all your titles and just be comfortable with each other.
But it’s too soon for that.
“Okay,” you nod, “Prince Seungcheol.” His smile grows wider, your cheeks flushed red at the sight of him. He makes you feel warm and for some reason, that feels like more than the love you’ve been reading and dreaming about your whole life. Maybe getting married won’t be that bad, maybe you and the Prince can find more than just an understanding like you thought at first.
Taehyun is waiting in front of your room when you and the Prince come back and you give him an apologetic smile. “There are two maids waiting for you inside as well as your lady-in-waiting,” he informs you, stepping aside so you can walk inside.
“Thank you.” You turn around once more before opening the door, looking at Seungcheol once more.
He bows with a smile, “I’ll see you in a bit, my lady.” You drop into a courtesy as well, not saying anything as you watch him turn on his heel and walk down the hall, probably to his own chamber. As handsome as he might have looked earlier, a plain shirt certainly isn’t what he wants to be seen in at a formal dinner with both of your families.
“I’m sorry for running off on you,” you turn to Taehyun. “It won’t happen again.”
“Please, don’t be mistaken. Hadn’t it been for Prince’s eagerness to meet you as soon as possible, I would have found you as soon as you stepped out of your chamber,” he assures you and you blink confusedly. But before you can ask what he means, the door behind you opens, and Daniela is tugging you inside.
“We’re late, Princess, hurry.” That’s all Taehyun hears before the door shuts closed again right in his face, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he turns his back to your door again, looking ahead while listening to your muffled laughs.
Seungcheol sits at the head of the table, his brothers and sister on his right. Your parents, The King and The Queen of Elowen sit on his left, indulging in a conversation with Joshua about the coronation. He watches them quietly, but the words start blending together. He can’t focus on them fully, his leg bouncing under the table as he waits for your arrival while thinking about how your youngest sister looks exactly like you when she laughs at something your brother said.
William stands behind him in the corner of the dining room alongside a few guards as well, watching the entire scene. Seungcheol doesn’t need to look at him to know he is impatient, probably already forming a speech in his head that he’ll have to hear later. He chuckles at the thought, clearing his throat and straightening his back again when he sees your parents glancing his way.
Truth is, the longer you take to get here the more he regrets keeping you out for so long. William has been against the idea of inviting you out of all the Princesses from start, and every imperfection he can find about you or your behavior only adds to the list of complaints he’ll have towards the council, hoping to send you back to Elowen before you can even settle in.
It’s his fault that you’re late right now, but how is he supposed to explain to the council that he’s kept you out with him without an escort or a lady-in-waiting to rush you back just because he wanted to get to know you better? Despite it being an open setting, he can already imagine the rumors that would start. Even though you’re to be his wife, the Queen of Veloria, it’d still look bad, and starting his ruling with people looking at him weird right off the bat isn’t something he wants to do.
The door finally comes open and Cheol snaps out of his thoughts, meeting eyes with you. A smile spreads on his lips as he takes in the sight of you, doing his best to calm you when he sees how your eyes flicker around the room. Your lady-in-waiting walks right behind you, stopping at the entrance which seems to only freak you out more as you look back at her.
“Why don’t you come eat with us, lady…” he trails off, waiting for her to introduce herself. She does, dropping into a courtesy as her name slips past her lips. “Lady Avanzini,” he repeats after her, motioning with his hand towards an empty seat beside his sister.
“Your Royal Highness,” William admonishes him, but he ignores it entirely, assuring her it’s okay. Once she sits down at the table, your shoulders visibly relax and you take a seat on the other side of the table, right opposed to Seungcheol.
“You look beautiful tonight, my lady,” he smiles at you, watching as you look down at your pink dress. His comment seems to please not only you but also your mother, a smile spreading on her face as she takes in the sight of you.
Seungcheol clears his throat, standing up from his place and raising his glass of champagne. “If I could have your attention for a moment.” All eyes land on him without hesitation and he makes the mistake of looking at his brothers, regretting it as soon as he meets eyes with Chan. How is he supposed to be serious when he looks like he’ll laugh at him the second he opens his mouth again?
“It is an honor to welcome the royal family of Elowen to Veloria as not just guests but kin,” he shares a smile with your parents, avoiding looking to his right where his family sits. “Coronation is near and it makes me pleased to know I won’t be standing there alone but with a beautiful woman that will soon be my Queen,” his gaze softens when he meets your eyes, letting you reassure him as much as he reassures you.
“May this union strengthen our land, our people, and our bonds,” he raises his glass slightly higher. “To peace, and to Her Royal Highness.” Everyone raises their glasses, smiles on their faces as they cheer to the starting connection, your younger sibling slightly out of place as they debate if it’s appropriate to raise their glasses with juice. He watches your sister hiss at them to keep quiet and just follow your parents’ lead, a soft laugh leaving his lips.
The food is served shortly after, the room busy as people come and leave again with trails full of drinks and food, the cutlery clinking against the utensils, conversations filling their surroundings. Seungcheol keeps his eyes on his siblings this time, listening to his sister’s speech about the importance of first impressions and how he’s aced them while his brothers tease him. But despite keeping his eyes on them, he can feel your stare on him from across the table, guilt creeping in as he thinks about what might be going through your head.
There were plenty of women William offered to him, pointing out the strengths of each of them. But the only thing that stuck with him was the information about you. It was far from love at first sight, quite the opposite if he’s honest.
He thought you were a safe option. Smart, beautiful, the oldest of the four Elowen heirs. He thought that, maybe, since you’ve been taught love wasn’t in your cards since the start just like him, marrying you could save you from being trapped in a marriage with a different noble far worse than him. Being with him was never supposed to be love. But understanding? Freedom? He could give you those. But as he thinks back to your flushed cheeks earlier and the way your eyes are looking at him in this crowded room, he’s worried again about trapping a woman who loves him when he can’t do the same.
He swallows his worries, focusing on his sibling as best as he can. The only thing left for him now is hope. Hope that he is wrong about you.
♡⸝⸝
Your mother’s eyes are welcoming, much more than he expected. He can’t imagine having the same warm smile on his face if it were his sister’s marriage they had been talking about. Maybe Joshua and Chan aren’t that far from the truth, maybe he is too protective of her. But what is he supposed to do? He knows how dangerous the world can be, how dangerous the men — despite calling themselves gentlemen — can be. He’d give anything to keep her safe.
“I’m seriously honored for being able to sit with you tonight,” Cheol smiles at both of your parents, glancing at William standing impatiently on the other side of the room. “Duties call but I hope you’ll feel at home during your stay. I’ll try to make myself available to accompany you to dinner again but I’m sure you know how preparations like this can get,” he excuses himself and your mother gives his forearm a light squeeze, saying her farewell with a smile.
“Dinner was supposed to last only until you were done eating,” William complains but Seungcheol doesn’t pay him any attention, leaving the dining room with his brothers right behind him.
He thinks back to the look in your eyes as he walks through the palace, tuning out his brothers’ chatters. He feels bad, far worse than he hoped he would. But the thought of his upcoming wedding, and what it’d mean for the two of you scares him. He wishes his father would magically get better every day more and more.
“We’re sorry for the delay,” he mutters an apology as he takes a seat on his father’s throne — soon to be his throne, he has to remind himself. Kaito stands on his side alongside Seungkwan as per his request, shaking his head.
“We’re simply glad you could join us, Your Royal Highness. As well as your brothers,” Kaito bows his head towards them, glancing at William. “I understand this is a matter of the future of Veloria.”
“Yes, precisely,” William agrees, his eyes locking to an awkward Seungkwan who has no idea why he was invited to join such a meeting. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
The young scholar clears his throat, glancing at Seungcheol for reassurance before speaking. “Boo Seungkwan, sir. I’m here per His Highness request.”
“His Highness?” The words rot on his tongue as he looks to face the future King comfortable sprawled on the throne. “This is an inner matter. Nothing the nescient outsiders shall know of.”
“And that is precisely why I asked him to join us today,” Seungcheol interrupts. “Seungkwan is no outsider. He is important to me and I'd like for him to join us today,” Seungcheol takes great pleasure in disagreeing with his Head Advisor and being the only one who truly knows why Seungkwan is here today — so he can test his abilities.
“Your Royal Highness—”
“It’s been decided,” Seungcheol brushes him off. “Seungkwan shall keep us company as we talk. Who knows, maybe I'll like an opinion of a fresh blood.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” William mutters through gritted teeth. If he feels anything, it's anger, though. He is well aware of the way the council has been trying to get rid of him ever since they got power but until today, he could have done something with it. It didn’t matter what the council thought as long as he had the King’s support, and King Choi had never even thought about replacing him.
“Excellent. Then we shall get to business. You wanted to complain about my future wife I assume?” He tilts his head, the power he feels as he looks down at him from the throne unbeatable. He wonders if his father felt the same way sitting here, if looking down on his people made him the King he was. He’s not sure if that’s what he wants, if his father’s footsteps are the best example he should follow. That is also a part of the reason he wishes for a Head Advisor change, ignoring the fact he certainly isn’t William’s biggest fan.
“Before we start talking about the coronation — Yes, I’d like to inform you of Princess’ messiness, and lack of responsibility,” William starts and Cheol already feels annoyed, locking eyes with Joshua, hoping he’ll somehow come and save him. “She doesn’t care of time and rather spends her time gossiping with her lady-in-waiting than focusing on things that matter.”
“Is that true?” Kaito asks, his eyes flickering between Seungcheol and William.
“Far from it,” Cheol disagrees. “She’s knowledgeable, she carries great responsibility and what might interest you the most — alliance with her father’s kingdom will be a great advantage for us at times of war. She is of four children, it is also expected for her to be quite fertile so we won’t have to worry about the future of Veloria,” he assures him, hoping it might ease his worries. Though, if he is honest, your fertility is far from his main concerns.
“If I may add,” Chan clears his throat. “She is well studied in politics, much more than all the other Princesses I’ve heard of. Her Royal Highness will only be a positive addition to the kingdom.”
Seungcheol smiles at his brother, giving him a small nod of approval before looking at Kaito and Seungkwan again. “What do you think?”
Seungkwan opens his mouth and closes it again, caught off guard. “I haven’t met Her Highness just yet,” he says, panicked. Seungcheol tilts his head, not very pleased with his response. He is studied, from what he heard he was always on top of his classes, but yet he can’t give his own opinion on a situation? “But from what I know of the Elowen family,” he continues quickly, noting the disappointment on Prince’s face. “Everything the Princes said is true. An alliance in the form of marriage would be great for us.”
That’s more to his liking. Seungcheol smiles, “I don’t think there’s more we need to discuss regarding our future Queen then. The coronation, shall we talk about it?”
William grits his teeth again, knowing this is a lost battle for him. He’s always been the powerful, the one controlling the King, it’s not right that he now gets tossed aside as if he wasn’t the reason the Veloria kingdom has been doing so good in the past few years. “Everything is up to speed,” he proclaims. “Lords and Ladies are coming together to see you on the throne.”
“Doctor Jeon has assured us His Majesty shall be ready to crown you,” Kaito adds. “We’ve been trying to help him get better but the truth is, once you become the new King, it’s most likely he will spend the rest of his time in bed.” The three Princes exchange a look, a silent understanding of what it means for them. Their people might be losing a King, but a King can be replaced. They are losing a father. And no matter how many flaws he’s had, it doesn’t change the fact that a family is dying.
But even then, the three of them can’t understand the great pain his wife has been feeling ever since he first got sick. She’s been by his side through it all, her soft cries filling the room every time the King sleeps. She believes they don’t know, that they don’t notice the pain she bears, but it’s hard not to. And every time Seungcheol sees her, he wants nothing more than to be there for her, be a shoulder to lean on in this wicked time. She might not be his biological mother, but she’s always treated him equal to her children, now he just wants to do the same for her.
“Has Her Majesty eaten anything today?” He blurts out instead of acknowledging what was said.
Kaito clears his throat, apology written all over his face as he looks back at the Prince. “She’s refusing to eat anything unless we find medicine for His Majesty. She stopped speaking to us, too, barely noticing anyone other than the King.” Seungcheol’s knuckles turn white as he grips his hand into a fist, controlling himself not to punch anything. At this point, she’ll die with the King.
“Ask the kitchen to make Her Majesty’s favorite. I’ll pay her a visit.”
The Princes are the only ones left in the room shortly after, their smiles fallen as they look at each other. They’ve studied plenty of things at the academy, but none of their subjects included how to behave when the Queen decides to go down with the King.
“I shall go with you,” Chan mumbles, his confidence low as he keeps his eyes down on his feet. Seungcheol hesitates. He has no right to refuse him. It is his mother after all, but a part of him feels like it’s something he should do on his own. The weight of the eldest son lays heavy on his shoulders, the urge to take all the pain from everyone he knows and bear it instead strong.
“Mind if I go alone this time?” It’s then that their eyes meet, the pain behind the younger’s eyes obvious. “I want to do this. Please, let me.”
“Lord Choi has been wanting to introduce us to some of his friends, he wants to go out to the pub in town tonight,” Joshua wraps his arm around the youngest’s shoulder, sending a reassuring smile towards his older brother. “I could definitely use a distraction, hm?” Chan sighs, a heavy breath that shows just how tired he is. Still, he nods, sending one more glance Cheol’s way before leaving.
The Prince’s back hits the cold throne, his head tilted to the ceiling as he collects his thoughts. He understands the Queen, the urge to be by her loved one when he is in pain. He’d do the same for all three of his siblings, sit with them through it all and try to convince himself it’ll all be okay.
The thought of being in his father’s position stings. When Joshua’s mother had gotten sick, his father didn’t even bat an eye. He sent for the best Doctors, but that was the limit of his care. Would it be the same for him? Would he find himself on his deathbed with no one by his side that would care if he gets better or not, all because he is marrying for power instead of love?
The walk to the King’s chamber is filled with dark thoughts as he makes his way through the halls. This is certainly not the mood he wants to be in before dealing with things but there’s nothing he can do to help it. He’ll have to deal with situations like this later on anyway. It’s only in his favor if he can get used to it before facing his people.
He doesn’t wait for an answer after knocking, coming in. His eyes immediately fall to the Queen, sitting on a damaged chair beside the bed, holding the King’s hand while he sleeps. She doesn’t notice him right away, her hair covering most of her face, her eyes glued to the sleeping man. She’s not even dressed properly, and hadn’t he known better, he wouldn’t have guessed it was the Queen of Veloria in front of him.
Cheol clears his throat, waiting at the door until she looks up and meets his eyes. She quickly wipes away her tears and fixes her hair, putting on her best smile. “Seungcheol,” she greets him, her voice welcoming despite everything.
He smiles at her as well but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Kyong,” he greets her back, stepping forward until he reaches her and placing the trail with her favorite meal between her and the King, hoping his father doesn’t wake up all of a sudden and throw the food to the ground as he turns.
“I’ve already eaten but I’ve heard you haven’t had anything.”
“Oh,” even the little breath she lets out sounds guilty. It truly pains him to see her like this. It’s as if she were just as sick as his father. “I’ll eat later, son.”
“Then I’ll keep you company in the meantime,” he nods, his voice quiet. She averts her eyes from him, glancing briefly at the food before looking at her husband again.
“He’s been sleeping all day,” she informs him and Seungcheol hums. “It’s been like this a lot lately.”
“I’ve been told he is getting better? That he will be okay for the coronation?” She doesn’t answer, biting her bottom lip. He doesn’t push her for an answer either, knowing how hard it must be on her. The Queen looks up again, meeting his eyes.
“Tell me, how is the Elowen family?”
He leans against one of the dressers on the side to be more comfortable, “They all seem nice,” he says simply and she rolls her eyes.
“Your future Queen. How is she?” There is a hopeful smile on her face as she speaks and it hits him more than anything today.
“She’s smart,” he assures her. “Pretty, and she loves our gardens.”
“Then your mother would have approved of her,” she nods. It’s rather rare that people in the kingdom talk about his mother. A lot of the things he’d heard throughout his childhood weren’t painting her in the best light, but Kyong has never spoken ill of her. She always did her best so Cheol could meet her through her stories, since he didn’t have the chance to do so before she died.
“It’s a political marriage, don’t think too much into it,” he shakes his head.
“There are different levels to a political marriage, Seungcheol. Not all of them have to stay strictly professional.”
“I hope love will be in the cards for your son,” he answers simply with a smile as genuine as it can be.
“It is in your cards as much as it is in your siblings,” she assures him. “You are deserving of love, as much as anyone else is.” It’s his turn to stay quiet, unsure what to say to that. It’d be nice if that was true but honestly, it’s hard to believe when he thinks about the situation he is in.
“Look at your father,” she glances at the sleeping man, finally taking the trail of food from the bed. “He always thought the same, that he was meant for politics and was doomed to live through his people only. Now, look at us.”
“You are the exception, not the rule,” he reminds her but she simply shrugs, slowly digging into her food.
“Darling, you could easily make it into a rule.”
The words ring in his ears as he watches her eat, thinking about what she said. Deep down, he wishes he could be that lucky, that he could find someone to love, but he just can’t see it. Not now at least. Right now, he’ll be happy if he makes sure the Queen will eat her food well and stay with them for many more years, even if his father doesn’t stand by her side anymore.
Time seems to pass by faster than you can comprehend. It feels like you only blinked once and everything around changed. The palace is a mess, people coming in and out before you can properly learn their names, lords who don’t know why you’re here in the first place trying their chances to see if they could find their future wife, and all the servants panicking that nothing will be ready on time. Coronation is in two days.
One would think everything would be in place by now, all perfect for the future King of Veloria, but it’s far from it. If the palace is one thing, it’s disorganized. You had to learn that the hard way. You know you can’t blame Seungcheol, not when he’s barely gotten a taste of ruling yet. And not when you haven’t even gotten a chance to speak with him since the dinner with your families passed.
You understand that he is busy, deep down you know it has nothing to do with you, but you wish you could see your future husband more.
You’ve met once in the last two weeks. It had been over breakfast, when your father asked him to join your family so they could discuss the plans for forthcoming events together. You only managed to exchange two words with him before your mother took you and your siblings outside so the men could decide over your future. You can’t say you’d be surprised. It’s been like this your entire life. If anything, you’re pleased they let you finish eating before having you leave.
In a way, it’s nice not having to worry about anything. You spent the last two weeks in the gardens, accompanied by Taehyun or Mingyu. Unlike Taehyun, Mingyu fell into a comfortable rhythm with you much quicker. While Taehyun has always wanted to keep boundaries, making sure he wouldn't overstep, Mingyu had engaged in a chat with you as soon as you met him.
You later learned it was because he doesn’t have many worries about losing his position. His family has been working for the royal family for centuries, and it turns out, he and your future husband are quite close. Ever since you found out, you had to bite back your tongue not to ask him about Prince Seungcheol. About how he really is like outside of all the duties, without the (soon not so much) imaginary crown on his head, about his hobbies and biggest dreams.
You doubt he’d even tell you if you did ask.
Mingyu isn’t the only friend you’ve made during your stay, though. You’ve met plenty of interesting people like the royal teacher, a few of Veloria’s best scholars, and incredible ladies-in-waiting that had sworn to you their honesty and pure heart — even though you’re unsure if it wasn’t all for them to get closer to the Prince. You heard about ladies-in-waiting that had later become the King’s company back home, but you never wanted to believe it to be true. Why marry if you want to keep meeting new women?
But the most interesting of them weren’t the ladies or lords, it was the young gardener you found yourself spending every day with. You’ve seen the look on Taehyun’s face when you first got into a chat with Soobin, but it wasn’t like that. You’d be foolish to look at the gardener as anything more than a friend who shares the same interest in flowers as you. Especially when you already have a Prince courting you.
“Have you heard of the new flower the Amberielle kingdom has in their gardens?” You ask, watching as he waters the lilies around you.
“I have not, Your Highness,” he admits, barely sparing you a glance. Every morning, when he sees you coming down to the gardens, he feels like throwing up.
Not because your presence might bother him, in fact he is well aware he should be grateful for a Princess sharing her free time with him, but the look your guards give him every time he chats with you scares him. As aware as he is of his luck, he is also aware how easy it’d be for the King to get him killed if he does something he doesn’t like. And Soobin would be a fool to let his head be cut off for something he never meant to do.
“Really? I’ve read about it in the books Taehyun brought for me from the library,” you look at the guard beside you, giving him one of your thankful smiles. His lips don’t even twitch though, making you scoff. You thought he might have cracked after all this time but it seems like you’re still where you were when you first arrived.
“I see,” Soobin mumbles, locking eyes with the guard before looking down at the ground again. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go take care of… things,” he blurts out and you frown, sensing the lie on his lips. It’s weird. Some days, he has no problem spending all afternoon talking to you about the gardens or hobbies, and then others he shuts down like this, refusing to talk to you about anything. You want to ask him about it, question his behavior, but before you can do so, he is off, leaving you alone with Taehyun.
You sigh, turning to face the guard. “What shall we do then?” He opens his mouth to answer — probably to tell you to go back to your chambers and not step a foot out, you assume — but before he can do so, another guard interrupts him.
“Your Highness, His Royal Highness is looking to speak to you.”
You recognize Mingyu’s voice, taking a step to the side so you can see both of them. You narrow your eyes as you watch him, blinking a few times before nodding, telling him to lead the way. You haven’t spoken to him in days and now he wishes to bless you with his presence? You don’t see a reason why. But then again, coronation is in two days. And you are to be the Queen of Veloria.
Mingyu doesn’t tell you what it’s about as he leads you through the chambers to the crown room, Taehyun right behind you. You walk in silence, silence that you don’t like. It makes you feel weird, like you are in some sort of trouble. It makes you feel like a little girl all over again, walking the path of shame as the guards lead you to your parents to humiliate you and complain how irresponsible you are.
The memory makes you straighten your back, reminding yourself of everything your teacher taught you, remembering all the lessons you took so you wouldn’t feel like that little girl again. You’re a grown woman now, you tell yourself as you look ahead.
“Thank you, Mingyu,” Seungcheol smiles at the guard before looking your way. He sits on the King’s throne, confidence shining right through him. His hair is neat and so are his clothes. When you look at him, he truly looks like a King. “You can leave. I’d like to talk to the Princess alone.” Despite keeping his smile on and his calm demeanor, it’s a command, his voice ringing in your ears as the two guards leave, followed by another two guards who were looking after the Prince until now.
“You wanted to see me?”
He nods, standing up from the throne and walking over to the large window in the room. You tilt your head confusedly before deciding to join his side, standing awkwardly beside him and looking down at the people. “I’ve heard you’ve been in our gardens more often.”
“Oh,” you snap out of your thoughts and glance up at him. “I have,” you agree. “As you know, I find them beautiful. The flowers calm my mind.”
“Are you sure it’s the flowers that calm your mind?” He asks, turning his head towards you. The moment your eyes lock, you feel something hit you. A wave, spark maybe. You’re not sure. But you feel it, you swear you do. You stumble over your words, your cheeks heating up as you gaze into his eyes.
“Uhm— Excuse me?”
He sighs, breaking eye contact again and looking out towards the gardens. “I’ve also heard you’ve been talking to the gardener,” he admits. “Soobin?”
Now you’re even more confused. What does he have to do with anything? “Are you accusing me of something, my Prince?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, avoiding your eyes. You eye him confusedly, frowning. This is definitely not a topic of conversation your parents or teacher would approve of, but what are you supposed to do when he started it?
“I mean it’s understandable,” he clears his throat. What is? He makes no sense to you. “It makes sense to look for another in your position, I know that, but my lady,” he faces you again, his eyes stern. “You need to be careful with things like these. It’d be a great betrayal to both of our kingdoms if anyone saw you two together. Not to mention that due to his rank, it’d do him no favor. We would have to call off the wedding and it’d be especially hard for your father to arrange another one for you.”
“I don’t–” you shake your head. “What are you talking about, Prince?” He tilts his head, trying to read you with his eyes.
“What I’m meaning to say, you shall not be seen with him in public.”
“Why shall I not?” You push further, trying to make sense of this conversation. It’s confusing, Prince Seungcheol is confusing. It feels like he is talking in riddles, making you guess every word of his. And so far, you’re in no luck at solving the code.
“Have you not heard a word I just said?”
“I have, my Prince. I simply don’t understand.”
You’re not entirely sure if he is annoyed or confused as he takes the sight of you in. You can tell that he is thinking about something, going over what he is going to say next in his head. You tilt your head to the side, looking up at him. “Soobin, the gardener, aren’t you sharing a bed with him?”
Your eyes widen, realization from what he is accusing you of hitting you. You stumble back, your ears red from embarrassment and anger. How could he think so little of you? You’re a noble woman, a Princess, raised by the best teachers in the Elowen kingdom. How dare he even think you weren’t taught what even just being alone with a man would do to your reputation. And share a bed with someone you’re not married to? Heaven forbid.
Your name slips past his lips without any titles and you just shake your head, stepping away from the window. “It was nice chatting with you, Your Royal Highness, but I shall get back to my chamber. My ladies-in-waiting are waiting for me so we can have our afternoon tea.”
You try to leave the room but as soon as you open the large door Seungcheol’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you from leaving. You swallow hard, trying to pay as little attention to it as possible. You lock eyes with Taehyun and he shifts uncomfortably, his eyes flickering between you and the Prince. You don’t even want to know what he is thinking, worried he’d accuse you of the same thing the Prince did. How could you be so foolish? You know what rumors like this could do to you and your family.
“Give us another moment, we aren’t done talking yet,” Seungcheol says towards the guards, his eyes softening when he looks at you again, begging you to stay. You avert your eyes from him, thinking about all your options. You need to take care of this problem, and you need to do it fast. Daniela will know what to do. You need to go see her.
“I think we are done,” you argue but he doesn’t let go of your hand.
“Just two more minutes, Princess.” You bite back everything you wanted to say next. You are a weak, weak girl, you realize.
“I no longer shall be talking with you alone,” you say instead, doing the next best thing you can think of. He hesitates, finally dropping his hand to his side.
“Of course,” he mumbles. “Mingyu, may you?”
You find yourself behind closed doors again, this time not only with Seungcheol but his friend as well. You’d prefer it a lot more if the door stayed open but you know you’d be asking for too much then. Thankfully, you can blame this conversation on discussing important political matters not even the guards can hear of if anyone asks you why you were alone with the Prince.
“Your Highness?” You question awkwardly, looking at your feet.
“I didn’t mean to imply,” he apologizes, stepping closer to you. You let him, for now. “I’m well aware of your status, and what those accusations mean to you. I just—” he hesitates, waiting for you to look at him again. You do, doing your best to stay calm. “I just wanted to make sure you knew seeking pleasure was normal in situations like ours.”
“Pleasure?” You question, offended. “How am I supposed to find any pleasure in this, Your Highness? Pleasure in this chaos? In worries of what other people might think of me and my family? How is there any kind of pleasure in that?” You snap, deciding to forget about his title and the manners you should respect towards him.
Mingyu clears his throat but doesn’t get involved in your conversation any further, and honestly, you forget he’s even standing there. “I meant– different kind of pleasure,” he sighs, the longer he stares into your eyes the more realizing how wrong he’s got this. You watch the embarrassment settle on his face, but you’re certain it’s not as bad as the one you feel. “Forget it,” he blurts out. “I didn’t realize you don’t—”
“I don’t, what?”
“Understand.”
Your frown deepens, and for the first time since you closed the door behind you you look at the guard standing a few steps behind the Prince. He is clearly avoiding your eyes, making it clear he doesn’t wish to be a part of this conversation or help you in any way.
“Then help me understand,” you say, trying not to get mad when he shakes his head. Seriously? He wants to blame you for losing your dignity and then not even explain himself?
“We shall not be talking about this,” he says almost like an apology, taking a step back again. “I’m sorry, my lady.”
You scoff, tapping your feet against the wooden floor lightly as you watch him. “Alright,” you finally speak again. “Can you at least tell me why you thought so of me? What led you to the impression?”
“I read the situation wrong,” he says instead of answering your question. You want to argue further, tell him that that’s not what you’re asking him and demand explanation, but Mingyu joins your side before you can do any of that, giving you one of his smiles, pointing towards the door with his hand.
“Shall we, Your Highness? Your ladies must be impatient waiting for you.” You hum, glancing at Seungcheol one last time before walking away with the guard.
“My Prince, you wound me.”
Seungcheol turns on his bed, frowning even in his sleep.
“You could have made it a rule.”
The image he sees isn’t to his liking. The Queen, sitting beside his dead father, holding his hand as tears run down her face. She’s devastated. But it’s not her husband’s death that puts her in such depression. It’s when she looks at him, the oldest son of the Veloria kingdom, that it all comes crashing down — the disappointment, the anger, the regret.
No. He can’t bear seeing her like that. If she feels disappointed in him as well, then what is he supposed to do? He can’t rule, he can’t lead his people. He’ll only make them miserable. As miserable as he’s made the Queen. Bad things have always followed him, how else is he supposed to explain his mother dying during birth? It was always his fault, and he was now going to lead his people into failure as well.
He turns around on his bed again, trying to chase the image away. The last thing he should be thinking about is how big of a failure he is the night of his coronation. But the picture isn’t any better on the other side.
He dreams of you, in the same pink dress you wore to the dinner with your parents. You look crushed, your eyes watery as you look up at him, hiding an incredible amount of pain behind them. It hits him harder than he thought it could, his eyes widening as he quickly tries to cup your cheeks and brush your tears away. But he can’t. His hands go right through you. He can’t hold you. He can’t help. All he can do is watch you suffer because of him, watch you cry and yell at him, regret ever meeting him.
“I thought we could have an understanding, my Prince.”
It’s not truly you talking to him, it’s his own conscience, he knows that — or maybe he just hopes that’s the case — but it doesn’t change the fact your words hit him hard. It feels like you just pulled his heart out of his chest and twisted it between your fingers. He opens his mouth to assure you it will be okay, that he can make this okay again, but no words come out.
His eyes snap open, his breathing heavy as he stares at the dark wall in front of him. A dream, he reminds himself. That’s all this was. He closes his eyes again, hiding his face in his hands with a groan. Taking a deep breath, he drops his hands down, stepping out from under his blanket.
It’s still dark outside but he doesn’t feel like going back to sleep anytime soon. Taking down his pajama pants, he changes into his outdoor garments, leaving his room before anyone can notice. It’s not like he wouldn’t be able to leave whenever he wants, but he is sure any good servant would report it to the first guard they’d find and they would insist on staying with him. And honestly, he doesn’t feel like sharing the place with anyone else at the moment.
For the first time in what feels like ages, it’s quiet as he walks through the palace. The night sky is filled with stars shining above his head, his steps light as he walks through the gardens, taking his time with taking in the sight until he finally reaches his destination — the same place he first met you.
He stares ahead, unsure why he came here in the first place. It’s not like his dreams mean anything, and this place definitely doesn’t either. Yet, he can’t seem to move and walk away now that he is here. He turns around, enjoying the peace as looking at his surroundings. He can see your chamber from here, he realizes. It’s dark in your room, as it should be this early in the morning. The only light in the palace is coming from the kitchen, everyone busy preparing for the coronation, he assumes.
The coronation.
He should get back to his room, sleep as much as he can before the maid comes to wake him up, and pray everything goes well today. He still hesitates, his eyes glued to your window. It’s hard to hide his worries but he does his best, burying the memory of his dream deep inside. For now, that should be enough. How he’ll react when he sees you again later today is a different story, though.
♡⸝⸝
Despite the earlier panic all throughout the palace, everything is ready and set on time. Seungcheol smiles as he greets lords and ladies, engaging in a small talk with them. The walls are lined with guards everywhere, all of them focused on their job and nothing else. Which is likely also why he didn’t have a chance to speak with Mingyu yet. He was hoping for some reassurance from his best friend before it all comes crashing down, but for now, Joshua’s words will have to do.
“Look at you,” Kyong’s voice interrupts him, his eyes softening as he apologizes to lord Kim before glancing at the Queen. “You look beautiful,” she tells him, her hand wrapping around his biceps, giving a reassuring squeeze.
“I could say the same about you,” he takes in the sight of her, her dress deep purple and her hair falling in soft waves. This is the Queen he remembers raising him. The woman who stood by him and showed him manners as well as fun.
He feels proud. He is well aware how foolish that might sound. He is the one gaining power over the kingdom, it is his day, and yet, it’s not himself he is proud of. It’s the woman who has pulled through her spouse’s illness so she could be present for his big day.
“Father is coming in,” Joshua jumps into the conversation, fixing his uniform. He wears the same navy blue as the crown Prince, minus all the gold that lines him. Seungcheol clears his throat, nodding.
“I should go then, wait for the council to welcome everyone so we can begin.” They both nod to him and Joshua offers his arm to the Queen, walking with her to their designated place.
Seungcheol watches as the Queen takes a seat on her own throne besides the King, her smile wide but her eyes bearing the pain she’s hiding all day. The ceremonial robe the council made him wear looks heavy on him, and every part of the Prince worries if his father will be okay. It’s only once he sees him hold the Queen’s hand in his, looking at her like it’ll all be okay, that he leaves the throne room.
The noises all calm down and he is certain he’ll hear every one of his steps when he comes back to the room. It’s weird, standing here, with everyone even slightly important waiting for him inside so they could watch the King put a crown on his head. A lot of Princes his age have been married off for years, but it feels too soon for him.
Trumpets ring through his ears and before he can properly prepare himself, the door opens in front of him, a guard on each side. He takes a deep breath, straightening his back as he walks through the empty aisle his people created for him. He keeps his eyes laser focused on his father, not trusting himself enough to look at his siblings.
He kneels in front of the King, his head down. He recognizes Kaito’s voice as he recites a few words on the side where everyone can see him. Seungcheol doesn’t look, though. He barely even registers his words, everything that’s said until his father starts speaking a blur.
He glances up, just for a moment to make sure he is okay before his eyes burn holes into the ground beneath him again. The King clears his throat before reciting an Oath, encouraging the crown Prince to look ahead. He does, meeting eyes with his father as he repeats his words. A few people whisper behind him but he can’t hear anything, anxiety creeping up his back that he might mess up or something might go wrong at the last minute. It’s almost as if he had some sort of a protection device on his head, everything tuned out. His ears buzz which is not amazing but he pushes through, watching the King raise from his seat.
“Today, in the name of the crown, it is a great honor to proclaim my son, Seungcheol, a rightful heir to the throne. May strength follow your every step, wisdom guide you through the rough times of a war, and mercy lead your people. Rule in times of sickness, rule in the honor of the great Kings who carried this crown before you.” He steps down from his throne, slow, controlled steps like the Doctor advised him before.
The golden crown is heavy on his head but it doesn’t stop him from rising up, towering over his father as he walks up, taking his rightful place on the throne. It’s only then that he properly looks into the crowd. Mingyu stands on the very right, a proud grin on his face unlike the other guards who keep a stern face. It makes him smile as well, the realization of how much this means finally settling in.
Lord Choi stands on the left side, close to the royal family, a pretty lady on his arm. It makes him think of you, of you in his dream, of your pretty eyes and lips he’s thought about more times throughout the day than he’d like to admit. He scans the room once more until his eyes finally land on your figure, standing at the front with your family, a smile on your face as you bow down along with the rest of his people. His people.
Your pastel purple dress shines in the room. It might not be to everyone else, but it does to him. He isn’t sure why, why your presence in the midst of strangers feels like a soft light that peeks through the blinds in the morning, or why he sees your smile even as he closes his eyes, but it matters to him.
“Long live the King!” Someone in the crowd yells, making his serious demeanor crack, a laugh escaping his lips.
“Please,” he interrupts before the crowd can start celebrating, his eyes meeting Mingyu’s from across the room, a quiet thank you in his smile as it is his voice he recognized. “Before celebrations begin and all our doors open for you, I’d like to make a statement.”
As if the atmosphere wasn’t serious enough until now, everyone quiets down, nervously glancing around. He sees you do the same, trying to ask your father what’s going on. “My father was a great leader, one that got us through important battles and made sure his people would be taken care of,” Seungcheol looks at him, noticing his struggle as he tries to hold a cough in. Alright, quicker it is.
“It wasn’t just his work, though, which is also why I’d like to thank William,” he turns to the Head Advisor standing beside the throne. William smiles at the people, awkward as he has no idea what the new King of Veloria plans to say. “You did an amazing job helping my father. And I, as your King, grant you the honor of retirement.” He watches as his eyes widen, panic rushing through his entire face. “Instead,” he looks at the crowd below him again. “I’d like to name a new Head Advisor for the crown. Seungkwan, could you take William’s place?”
Whispers run through the room, filling his ears as he watches the scholar nervously step in front of him, a quiet thank you on his lips before he joins William’s side. “I trust his judgment to the fullest. And I can assure you, our kingdom will only grow with us.” It’s only then that he decides to step down, his shoulders tense as he joins the lords and ladies below. It creates a smile on Seungcheol’s face. Finally, finally, he’s got him right where he’s wanted him for what feels like ages — under him, with no power to rule over him.
He looks to his side, taking in the approving smiles of his brothers before everyone cheers, the room much louder than before. The throne room slowly clears out, everyone rushing to get to the great hall where the banquet for celebrations is hosted. Seungcheol stays in place, watching others leave before he allows a heavy sign to leave his lips.
It’s also then that his father grabs onto the first thing he can — which happens to be Chan’s arm as he rushes to help him — the coughs he kept in this entire time finally leaving his lips. “Let’s get you back to bed,” the former Queen coos, trying to remain calm.
“Will you be at the banquet?” her daughter asks, hope in her voice. It hurts, seeing the most important people in his life this low. He can read his sister perfectly, the way she misses her mother and simply wishes to spend some time with her. But he can read Kyong just as well, all the pain she bears, the tears she hides from her children in order not to worry them.
“We’ll see, darling,” she smiles, unable to tell her no right away. Seungcheol sees right through it but doesn’t say anything, calling Mingyu over instead to help them get back to their chamber without anyone noticing.
“Will he be okay?” His sister asks as they leave the room, looking up at her three older brothers. Seungcheol meets her eyes, his heart breaking in pieces. He’s never wanted anything other than happiness for her. He’d fight for her to get anything she wants, just a word and he’d do it. But what he cannot do for her is lie, look her in the eyes and promise her it will all go back to how it was, with everyone healthy and smiley.
Learning about his father’s illness hasn’t fully hit him until today. It all seemed like something impossible. How could his father, the same man who was always the strongest leader he knew, fail the bottle with sickness?
“The Doctors’ got him,” Joshua assures her when no one speaks, squeezing her shoulder. She smiles up at him, placing her hand on top of his. She believes him, of course she does. Why wouldn’t she believe it when her big brother tells her it will be okay? Seungcheol closes his eyes, unable to watch it any longer. Taking a deep breath, he turns around to the guards left near the walls.
“Can someone accompany my sister to the banquet?”
Two guards step forward without saying anything and the King nods, motioning for them to walk out with her. “You’ll all attend though, right? I won’t be there alone?”
“It’s to celebrate my coronation, you seriously think I could miss it?” Seungcheol turns to her again with a smile. She nods, visibly less tense now. The room stays quiet, all three of the Princes watching her leave the room.
Seungcheol sighs, plopping down on his throne as soon as the door closes behind her, finally relaxing. It feels like the first time he can breathe since he stepped into the room. “Are you alright?” Joshua worries, taking in the sight of his new King. It’s safe to say he looks exhausted. “Are you sure you can attend a banquet right now?”
“Do I have a choice?” It’s a rhetorical question. They all know what kinds of things would be said if he didn’t show up. He would lose his people before even gaining their trust. “Plus, not only do I need to speak with the council and entertain people, I should also speak with the Elowen family. I owe it to them after not being with them at all during their stay.”
“How’s the Princess?” Chan wonders, shifting uncomfortably in his uniform. It’s understandable, the robe they made him wear looks much heavier than what he’s used to.
“Good,” Cheol shrugs, but his mind drifts off to your standing in the crowd earlier. To your bow, to your pretty eyes focused on him as he named his new Head Advisor. He hopes you liked the ceremony. The thought makes him pause, confusing obvious on his face. His younger brothers raise their eyebrows, both of them having the same question looks on their faces. “We haven’t spoken much. But as we all know, she’ll be a great addition to the kingdom,” he assures them, the same words he said days prior to the council.
“Why not get to know her better?”
“We are not to be lovers,” he reminds them. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, it feels wrong. “She’s a political addition to the kingdom,” he continues, quickly pushing aside all the thoughts about you that appear in his head. “Unlike you two, I don’t have much of a choice.”
A hint of resentment appears behind Joshua’s eyes as the words leave his mouth but he doesn’t pay it any attention, figuring he’s just imagining things. “I don’t know, I think I’d like not having to worry if I find a wife on my own or not,” Chan comments with a shrug. “Doesn’t it make it all easier?”
Seungcheol hesitates as he looks at his brothers. “I guess it does,” he finally says, trying to read the look behind Joshua’s eyes. The longer he looks at him, the more he begins believing what he saw wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. Maybe a part of Joshua actually resents him. Which only leads him to another question — why?
“Shall we go?” Joshua brings the eldest out of his thoughts. There’s a smile on his lips as he asks, making Cheol’s eyes narrow. He doesn’t say anything though, nodding as he stands up again, following his brothers and the rest of the guards into the great hall.
“Wasn’t that beautiful?” Your mother asks as she sits in her seat. You smile immediately, the memory of Seungcheol finally getting his crown clear in your head. You feel proud, the smile you carry as genuine as it can be. You might have only spoken to him on a few occasions, but you know he is deserving of his role, despite the disagreement you had a few days ago.
“It was nice,” your father hums back.
“I think the coronation was amazing,” you proclaim, not noticing you’re interrupting your father. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything, letting you talk freely.
“What about you, Nari? What did you think?” Your mother glances over at your younger sister.
She straightens her back as soon as all eyes are on her, clearing her throat before speaking. “The ceremony was beautiful, mother,” she nods, her politeness ringing in your ears. You wouldn’t say you were a bad student, but she’s certainly always cared more about growing into the beautiful, diligent, humble ladies you were raised to be. In a sense, you admire her for it. You’re confident she won’t have any trouble finding her future husband on her own, hopefully one who loves her dearly. “Brother and sister told me the same before the nanny took them back to our chamber,” she adds and your parents nod.
“And what did you think of the Princes? Aren’t they good looking?”
“Mama!” You whisper-yell. “Nari is seventeen.”
“Maybe it was our fault we didn’t look for a husband for you earlier. If we had, you could have been long married with children running around,” your father comments, sipping on the prepared champagne in front of him.
You open your mouth to argue, tell them it wasn’t a mistake that they waited until you were twenty five as you still had a lot of developing to do and things to wrap your head around, but before you can say any of it, your sister speaks again, “Looks certainly run in the Veloria family.”
“You shall ask your future husband if his brothers aren’t looking for a wife,” your mother encourages you.
“Of course,” you smile back at her, knowing you definitely won’t. You’d rather lose your parents’ trust than set up your seventeen year old sister with a man older than you.
You sit quietly after, listening to your parents talk about how pleased they are with the Veloria kingdom and the new King, reminding you how lucky you are to be chosen by him. Nari sometimes joins the conversation when asked to, but for most of it, she sits just as quietly as you.
That is, until a lord approaches your table. He bows with his right hand pressed to his heart, introducing himself as Lord Nishimura. He isn’t from around here, that much you can tell. “I hope I’m not intruding on an important conversation,” he apologizes, eyes locked onto your parents. He quickly glances at you and your sister before continuing. “I’d like to ask your daughter for a dance, if you allow.”
Narrowing your eyes, you scan his figure. He can’t be over the age of twenty, his eyes full of the same young energy you see in your eight year old brother. He extends his hand to your sister and you watch as her eyes flicker to your parents, waiting for their approval. Your mother nods with a smile and Nari’s eyes fill with excitement, placing her hand in his and leaving with him to join the other lords and ladies dancing in the center of the room.
You bite back everything you wish to say, knowing you can’t go against your parents’ methods. You’d be a fool to start a disagreement with them, especially when you are in public. You’ll just have to hope they won’t decide to go down the path of wedding their undeveloped daughter.
Your mother clears her throat after sharing a glance with her husband, causing you to look at her. “Don’t you feel like dancing tonight, darling? It’s a big day for us just as much as for the Veloria family after all,” she mentions and you know exactly where she’d be heading with it.
“You’re right,” you agree, forcing a smile. “I shall join the others.”
Your parents watch you with a smile as you leave the table but you know it’s as forced as your own. It makes you feel weird, something in your stomach makes you uneasy. You always loved your parents and believed the relationship you had with them was strong, but ever since you learned they arranged a marriage for you, it was as if it all shifted. All of a sudden, your afternoon tea conversations with your mother weren’t about the books you got your hands on lately or your interests but about preparations for the wedding and questions about your future husband.
Frankly, it all made you feel small, like you were stuck between four walls with no doors or windows. It began to be harder to breathe freely around them, everything crashing down on you. The bond you thought you always had with your mother was weakening with each day spent together, and you found yourself in the Veloria gardens more than not.
It was easy to escape from everything and focus on the nice things. You don’t have the heart to face the fact that your and your mother’s relationship might not be as great as you thought it was, if you’re honest.
You decide to stay near one of the tables, this one decorated with a chocolate fountain and all kinds of fruits you could think of. Most of the nobles are dancing in the center or chatting at their respective tables, keeping your surroundings quiet. Which is exactly what you needed, a quiet peace of mind to let you forget about your parents and their meddling.
Scanning the room, a part of you feels disappointed when you can’t find a certain King who you’ve been wanting to talk to ever since leaving the throne room two days ago. You understand he has other things to take care of before joining the banquet but that doesn’t stop you from wondering when he’ll turn up. He is your future husband after all, you can wonder about his whereabouts.
Your mind drifts to your conversation two days ago, to the memory of his dark eyes gazing into yours. Biting the inside of your cheek, you do your best not to think about the possibilities of where he might be, what he might be doing. If the roles were reversed, and you’d be the one who still hasn’t shown, the rumors would start before you could blink.
Being a woman is lovely, and with every inch of your body, you appreciate everything you have, but the difference between women and men in this society is far too obvious. You watched your youngest sister’s interest in weaponry fade away as she was pushed into afternoon tea she never liked and dressing up to her age while your brother got to be taught in said area despite being only eight years old.
“My lady.” You turn to the side upon hearing a man’s voice, smiling out of politeness.
“My lord,” you drop into a small courtesy. “Have you tried the mango yet? It’s delicious,” you motion towards the fruit besides you, his eyes following yours.
“Not yet,” he shakes his head. “The fruits do look great,” he agrees before meeting your eyes again. “But I came over because someone else looks much more beautiful.”
Your cheeks catch a hint of pink as you thank him, averting your eyes to the floor beneath you. “Thank you, lord…” you pause, realizing you didn’t quite catch his name.
“Lord Song,” he finishes for you with a small bow. “My apologies for not introducing myself sooner.” You shake your head, introducing yourself as well.
“Elowen?” He questions and you watch him mentally place your kingdom on a map. “What brings you here from so far away?” You hesitate, knowing you can’t just proclaim you’re marrying the King of Veloria all of a sudden. He only became the King an hour ago, it’s too early to announce a marriage for the throne.
“What else? The beautiful coronation we watched earlier. My family came to show our support to the future King, just like everyone else in this room.”
He hums back, watching you with a smile. You feel his eyes all over you, taking in the sight of you. You do look gorgeous tonight, the maids and Daniela made sure you would, and you feel extremely thankful to them. But you’re just as thankful when you hear Lady Avanzini’s voice as she joins your side. “Your Highness, could I steal you for a moment?”
You glance between her and the lord in front of you, nodding. You drop into a small courtesy again as you excuse yourself before following Daniela away. “Where are we heading?” You ask, taking your chance and looking around the room for the King.
“You looked like you needed some saving, my lady,” she says simply, making a soft laugh bubble out of you as you shake your head at her.
“Our conversation wasn’t as bad as it might have looked like.”
She stops in her tracks, turning around to face you. “Would you have rather I left you alone?” Your eyes soften as you shake your head again in a silent no. She smiles, “see, Princess? I know what you need at all times.” She looks proud of herself as she leads you into another quiet corner of the room, staying by your side and watching the banquet unfold.
“Have you happened to see the King?” You whisper towards her without taking your eyes from the nobles dancing, hoping that by some miracle you might find him in the midst of them.
“I did,” she nods. “He was speaking with a few gentlemen at their table. His brother was with him.” The mention of the younger Prince brings back memories of your earlier conversation with your parents, a heavy sigh leaving your lips.
“Don’t remind me of any of the Princes. My mother is hoping one of them might be interested in our Nari,” you tell her, voice low enough for only her to hear. Her eyes widen and she turns to you, looking for any sign of it being a joke. When she doesn’t find any, she laughs either way.
“I saw the youngest Prince eyeing at least five different ladies already, and the second born is nowhere to be found. I think we both know what that means.”
You tilt your head to the side, blinking confusedly. What does that mean? “A lady?” Your eyes widen, realization settling in. Of course. You were worried about the King seeing another woman just moments earlier when you couldn’t find him but it didn’t even occur to you his brothers could be doing the same. But why hide his relationship when there isn’t a different lady waiting to marry him?
Maybe you’re too used to the love stories you read about. It seems easy to you. He’s a Prince, he could have anyone in the country he wishes to, so why not just ask the King for a blessing to a marriage?
“Oh how I wish I could sneak away from this ball with someone as well,” Daniela sighs, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Why?”
“Because, my lady, I’m dying to feel a man’s hands on me.” Your eyes widen as the words reach your ears, panic rushing through you. You quickly look around to make sure no one else heard her, that no one could spread something so scandalous about your closest friend. “What?” She laughs, as if she couldn’t understand your worries. She should have, she should know just how much it means for a woman to say or do something that could ruin her reputation. “Don’t tell me you can’t relate, Princess.”
You quickly shake your head, refusing anything even slightly close to what she’s implying. “I have not, and shall never, agree to anything this incriminating.” You watch as something flickers behind her eyes, understanding maybe. You’re not quite sure, frankly.
With a simple smile, she straightens her back again and looks into the crowd, leaving you to think about the interaction on your own. “Look, His Majesty is…in the middle of the crowd of ladies there,” she points out and you take a second to even register what she said before following her eyes.
Finally, after what feels like forever, you see the man you’ve been looking for for so long. Only, he happens to be surrounded by ladies from all around and their mothers, chatting. You can only assume it has something to do with the fact Veloria now has a single King, who by all the rules you both grew up with, should be looking for a wife to consume an heir for him. If it wasn’t for your already existing arrangement, you’re certain your mother would be standing in the crowd as well, trying to list all the good qualities you have.
There's a smile on his face as he speaks, and you can't figure out if it's simply a politeness or if he's enjoying himself. Despite knowing how selfish it sounds, you hope it's simply politeness. You wish you could look at him and not feel any sign of anxiety and sadness when you see him like this, but the truth is, you ended up caring about him more than you thought would coming here. And with every one of the glances you share together, you feel your heart aching.
He doesn't notice you, his eyes kept on the group around him. You catch the sight of Chan behind him, but he doesn't get as much attention as his older brother. You find yourself wishing they'd pay more attention to the single one of the brother's. Even though you can't say Seungcheol would be yours to claim, he don't want him exploring his opinions either.
“Anything on your mind, my lady?” Daniela teases, making you take your eyes off him. You shake your head no, but you're lying. There's a lot on your mind, and the new King of Veloria happens to be the center of every one of your thoughts. “Really? Because I think His Majesty is on his way to dance.” Your eyes snap back to him as soon as her words reach you, jealousy rushing through your veins. You know you shouldn't feel like this, you made peace with love not being in your cards a long time ago, but you can't help it. You can't help the way you feel, and when you see Seungcheol's hand hold another lady, it feels like your entire world breaks into pieces right in front of your eyes.
“I see,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you know her? Who she is?”
“I'll have to disappoint you, my lady,” she apologizes. “I haven't seen her before. There is many foreign faces tonight.” You hum in response, unable to take your eyes off him. Daniela seems to notice your distress, taking your hand in hers and forcing you to avert your eyes. “Look over there, there's your little sister,” she points to the other side of the crowd, your eyes landing on a different beautiful lady this time. Nari's greed dress makes her eyes stand out, and you understand why lord Nishimura can't take his eyes away. Now that you look at them from afar, they do look nice.
But as gorgeous as your sister is, it only reminds you of the girl Seungcheol is dancing with more. She's in a beautiful pink dress, decorated with gold details, her hair is up, styled into a bun. A few brown strands line her cheeks, and without needing to look their way again, you know she has a beautiful smile as well.
A song goes by, maybe two, you're not sure. You keep your eyes on your sister, her laugh bubbling in your ears despite her being on the other side of the room. It's pleasing, seeing her have so much fun. Maybe she'll join you on other balls as well, and your only company won't be Daniela — despite the fact you love her with your whole heart — anymore.
You focus on the music and chatters around instead, slowly calming down again. You don't think about the King, the laddies dancing with him, or your earlier chat with Daniela. You just shut it all out, enjoying the moment as much as you can.
At least until you catch Lord Song approaching you again. Daniela tries stepping forward quickly, but you hold her hand, smiling as you wait for the lord to approach. There isn't any need for her to save you again. If Seungcheol can dance with other ladies while you stand in the corner and watch, why wouldn't you be able to have a little fun as well? There is no harm in a dance. And despite only thinking about Seungcheol as Lord Song asks you for a dance, you are determined to enjoy yourself.
You hold his hand, imagining it's someone else' gloved hand leading you through the crowd, someone else' deep eyes watching you as you stand opposite each other, and someone else reminding you how incredible you look tonight. You feel bad, using Lord Song so you could get your mind off your future husband dancing with different women — even though it's not working well.
“Have you heard anything worth mentioning tonight, Princess?” He asks, his eyes locked onto yours as you dance side by side, your hands facing each other but not quite touching.
“I don't pay much attention to gossip, my lord,” you answer, pushing aside the memory of Daniela's earlier words. You still can't believe she'd say something like that, in a public place on top of it all. You don't understand, no matter how much you ponder over it, you can't seem to find a reason, a meaning, for her need.
“What do you pay attention to, then?” He tilts his head slightly. It's a cute motion. And he seems genuinely interested, so you allow yourself to talk.
“There's many — flowers, literature, especially poetry,” you speak with a smile, letting yourself daydream for a while.
“What about your favorites, Princess?”
You open your mouth, ready to tell him all about your favorite flowers and books, when the dance comes to an sudden end, Lord Song stopping mid step and dropping into a bow. You blink confusedly, glancing behind you to see what startled him so much. His Majesty. Your eyes widen and you quickly drop into a courtesy, wondering what he's doing here, beside you, knowing well just a minute ago, he was still in the middle of the dance.
Despite your attempts to ignore his presence and keep your eyes on the lord dancing with you, every now and then, when you got the chance, your eyes would wander to him, checking where he is and who he is with. He was with a different lady than the one you saw him first with the last time you checked. Her dress was red, and her hair blond. You wonder which one of them he found more attractive.
“What brings you here, Your Majesty?” You dare to speak first, his eyes moving from the man next to you when he hears your voice. A chuckle tugs on his lips and it doesn't take you long to figure out it's because of the title you are using. He asked you to not be so formal with him before, but can you do that now that he is the King?
“I'd like a dance,” he states simply, pinning Lord Song down with his eyes. You feel awkward watching it, knowing every part of you hoped for this, for a dance with him tonight. You didn't think it'd be like this. That he'd interrupt your dance, making everyone around look your way to check what's happening.
“Of course,” Lord Song answers without further questions, stepping aside to create more space for the King. Before leaving completely, he takes his chance and smiles at you once more, motion which you reciprocate.
Seungcheol takes his place, his hand moving with yours as a mirror, his eyes solely on you. Your cheeks turn red as you hold his eye contact, nervousness building up as you feel your heart beating faster. You worry he might hear, that just by the look in your eyes, he'll know it all. You move in the rhythm without saying another word, too scared that if you even as breathe too loudly, he'll disappear, and it'll turn out you dreamed it all.
He steps closer to you, closer than a King should be to a lady he is simply dancing with, but not close enough for anyone to mention it. You look up at him, gazing into his chocolate brown eyes with yours. He stands out in the crowd, and it's not just because everyone's eyes are on the new King. His presence draws people in, and you know they can't get enough of his looks. You are no better than them.
“You were saying?” He asks, his face unreadable.
You tilt your head slightly before shaking it. “I didn't say anything, Your Majesty.”
“Drop the Majesty,” he stops you before explaining what he meant.
“And call you Your?” Your lips curve into a smile, proud of the joke you made. You know what he means, of course you do. But speaking to him without a title in such public place just doesn't seem right.
“You can call me yours,” he agrees, leaning closer to you so only you can hear. A shiver runs down your spine, his voice ringing in your ears.
He pulls back, an equally proud smile as you had on his lips. But you're not amused, your eyes wide and cheeks red. Everything about the situation making you feel hotter. You need to get away right after the dance, get some fresh air and hopefully a fresh mind. “Sire,” you blurt out quickly. It's supposed to be a warning for him, reminder that you are surrounded by nobles from all over the country, but your anxiety makes it seem like anything but. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, obviously not satisfied. But he leaves it, for now at least.
“Your conversation with Lord Song, what was it about?” He asks again and this time, you actually know what he wants you to talk about.
“He asked about my interests.”
“And?” He encourages, “what did you say?”
“That I love flowers, and literature,” you tell him, even though you have a feeling he already knows that. You never directly spoken to him about the things you like or what sparks your interest, however, the first time you met, you were surrounded by flowers you couldn't take your eyes off. You told him how much you loved their gardens and he must have seen you visiting them every day.
“Tell me more about it.”
“Maybe another time,” you smile, knowing the song is coming to an end. As much as you wanted to dance with him, look him in the eyes and enjoy his proximity, it all feels suffocating. You can feel multiple pairs of eyes on you, making you feel small. You wonder what they think when they look at you and the King, if they like the scene or would prefer someone else to take your place. Everyone has their own opinion on what the next Queen of Veloria should look like, what she should wear and how she should present herself. Deep down, you know it's impossible to meet everyone's standards, that one way or another you'll end up disappointing someone no matter how much you try, but it doesn't change the fact you don't like the way they are looking at you at the moment.
“Why not now?” He presses, needing to hear more from you, have another excuse not to dance with any of the other ladies looking to seek their change at becoming the Queen. “We have the whole night to ourselves.”
“I shall not stay long,” you shake your head in a small excuse. “My feet hurt and I promised my brother I'll read with him before he goes to sleep.” Seungcheol can't argue with that, nodding as if he approved. Despite knowing you don't need his approval, that you can leave whenever you want, you're glad to have it.
The song comes to an end, both of your stopping your movements and bowing. You drop into a courtesy, your legs bend much more than when you were greeting Lord Song and your head down. “We shall see each other another day, then.” You hum, not giving him a clear yes or no answer before pushing past the crowd, not bothering with finding Daniela again or saying good night to your parents, heading straight for the exit.
You don't go find your brother to read with him like you promised, you can't. Instead, you find yourself at the palace entrance, closing your eyes as you breath in the fresh air. You learned that Veloria is beautiful no matter the time of the day, but there's something captivating about the night sky and stars. The moon is clear as day from where you stand, casting soft light in the darkness of the night. The only people around are the two guards standing at the door, but they don't pay you any attention. You try to place their face to a name but no matter how you try, you don't recognize them.
However, a guard you do recognize is Taehyun, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts about how attractive King Seungcheol looks tonight. “My lady, it's cold here.” You turn around, giving him a smile. You don't need to ask why he is here, it's obvious he came to take you back to your chambers. So you simply nod, stepping forward to reach him.
You don't say anything for a while, letting him lead you through the hallways you know as well as the ones back home by now. It's only when he stops in front of your door that you hesitate, eyeing him curiously. He doesn't react, ignoring the fact your eyes are gazing into his soul. It's something he got used to since becoming your guard. “How did you find me so quickly? I didn't tell anyone where I was going.”
He looks at you, finally meeting your eyes. “His Majesty told me you were leaving the banquet, it is my job to be with you at all times and protect you. I was going to come to your chamber, but he told me I'll find you in the gardens by the lilies at the very back. It was luck I reached you before you could wander further into the dark.”
Seungcheol knew where to find you. For some reason, it makes you smile. You shake your head slightly, not saying anything back as you disappear into your room with a grin on your face. Changing into your sleeping gown, you think of the new King as you slowly fall asleep in the comfort of your bed.
The following week after coronation was filled with celebrations, alcohol, and cheers to the new Veloria King. In those seven days, Seungcheol didn't show his face on any of the events happening in his honor. Stuck in a conference room with the entire council, he had to study more than ever before. When they found him after the coronation, he thought the time they stole from the banquet would be enough to agree on everything. But turns out, all the information they dumped at him there wasn't even half of it.
It was tiring, to say the least, but thanks to the people around him, it began to feel less like a duty and more like a friendly hang out. Of course, there was still all the papers he needed to sign, letters he needed to send, and events to approve of, but knowing it no longer remains William standing by his side but is now joined with a much younger scholar who has the same opinion on many things certainly made it all worth it.
Still, there is something he hates missing out on. You.
The only time he stood by your side since the banquet was the first Sunday of his ruling, when you joined him to announce to the people you were to be the next Veloria Queen. Many cheers filled the palace shortly after, celebrations of his coronations turning into celebrations of the upcoming royal wedding. The more he thought about it, it seemed like his people will take any chance they can to celebrate something as long as it involves dancing and drinking. Not that he could blame them.
Your parents left the kingdom shortly after, leaving you alone in here. Maybe that's why he hates being busy even more, knowing you have no one else here to hang out with. Sure, your ladies-in-waiting are here to accompany you, and from what he heard, Lady Avanzini stayed, but that's different. He is to be your family, your husband, he should be able to spend time with you as well.
Instead, all he can do is watch your from the palace as you walk through the gardens, just like you have many times before. Taehyun follows you on every step, and he's never been more grateful for the knight's devotion to the royal family. Knowing you always have someone by your side to look out for you when he can't helps him ease his mind.
He's noticed you spending more and more time outside, seeking the comfort of the gardens more than before. Every part of his body wants to come down and join you, ask you what's on your mind and if he can help anyhow, but each time he is close to leaving the room and chasing after you, a member of the council or Seungkwan show up, needing him for something that apparently can't wait.
It's been too long. Too long since he last got to look you in the eyes and read every emotion behind them, since he danced with you, and since he allowed himself to think about how gorgeous you look. And as much as he wants to break the cycle and see you, with each passing day, as the wedding nears, he reminds himself he'll get to see you and spend his ruling by your side for the rest of his days from now.
“Is everything ready for tomorrow?” He asks, averting his eyes from the beauty wandering through his gardens and turning to face Kaito and Seungkwan. The two of them exchange a quick glance before agreeing.
“Everything should be set. We have every flower the Princess requested, most of our guests have confirmed their attendance, and the servants are preparing the room as we speak,” Kaito proclaims, making the King hum. “We've got everything under control, so you can just relax for the night and spend your last day before the wedding however you wish,” there is a slight implication behind those words but Seungcheol decides to ignore them, focusing on the important part — he can relax tonight.
There is many things he could do, sleep the entire night, visit his father and see if his condition got any better — despite knowing it hadn't, and it's only a matter of time before he leaves them for good — but the first thought that comes to mind is he could spend time with you. He could join you on your walks, take you from your ladies and have dinner with you, or simply replace Taehyun and follow you like a lost puppy for the rest of the day. Neither of the options sound bad.
“Your brother asked me to tell you to meet him in front of the palace in…” Seungkwan's eyes trail to the sun outside, guessing the hour by the shadow it sets. “In about an hour, Your Majesty.” And there go his plans of spending time with you. A sigh escapes his lips, wondering which one of his brothers just got on his bad side. “Or I could tell Prince you are busy?” He asks upon seeing the look on King's face.
Seungcheol shakes his head, coming to peace with the face he'll have to wait one more day to spend time with you. “No need. I'll meet him. Has he said why he wants to see me?” Seungkwan apologizes, nervous as he tells his king he hasn't asked as far. Kaito gives him a dirty glance, almost as if he was judging him for his lack of knowledge, but truthfully, Seungcheol doesn't care.
♡⸝⸝
“We are going out together,” Joshua announces with a grin, Mingyu right beside him. Now as he stands face to face with his brother, he hates not yelling at Seungkwan before for not knowing why his brother wanted to see him. Had he knew it was just about going out, he would have never came down here. “Oh come on, don't get all you now.”
“What does that mean?” He narrows his eyes, his brows furrowing together.
“That,” Joshua says simply. “That face, the sulkiness. You can't be mad we want to take you out on your last night as a single lord.”
“Not a lord.”
“Same thing,” Mingyu brushes him off. “You can let go of your responsibilities for the night, so take the chance. Let's go out and have fun. Last night before everything becomes heir, wife, duties, hm?” The two of them stare at each other for a second before Seungcheol finally sighs, agreeing. The two younger men silently cheer, grinning at each other as if they just got the greatest news of their life delivered on silver plate. He shakes his head at them, finding them ridiculous.
“I need to change then,” he mumbles, looking down at his clothes. It's too royally. If they are going out, joining the common, far from the responsibilities and duties he holds, he should dress accordingly. “Put on something…less.” Mingyu laughs at him, telling him to hurry.
He does, almost stumbling over his own feet and knocking down half of his wardrobe as he changes into a simple shirt and a dark vest, something much more casual than the clothes he's forced to wear to the council meetings. He passes by your lady-in-waiting on his way outside again, sharing a brief smile with her. He can only hope she is on her way to see you, and spend some time with you while he can't.
It scares him how much he wishes he could.
The pub is filled with laughter that fills his ears right after stepping inside, everyone holding a glass of beer. A few people in the corner yell at the entire place, and it takes him a second to realize they're singing. It's completely different from the events and celebrations he is used to, but if he's honest, the atmosphere in this place is much more to his liking. Everything feels a lot more casual, no one caring if they leave a good impression or what others think about them.
It's filled with men, which is another thing he isn't used to. The lack of femininity could turn a lot different ways. “Don't just stand here,” Mingyu pats him on the back as he walks past him, saying his greetings to the guy behind a bar. They laugh at something Mingyu says, the two of them obviously friends. Seungcheol hesitates for a second before following Joshua to one of the tables, taking in the sight of everyone once more as he sits down. No one is paying attention to him, everyone busy with their conversations to notice him. And frankly, he loves that.
In the palace, everyone's eyes are on him at all times, giving him little to no privacy. But here, it looks like as if no one knows who he is. Mingyu comes back with three beers, setting them down on the table and spilling some of it out. No one points it out, all three of them raising their glasses and clinking them together on top of the table. “To our King,” Mingyu grins, his teeth showing.
“To the Queen,” Joshua adds with a smile.
“To our kingdom,” Seungcheol finishes, bringing the glass to his lips and gulping down the bitter liquid.
The three of them chat away about the past few weeks, and Mingyu answers every question about you and your safety Seungcheol throws his way. Joshua watches it in awe, slowly piecing one and one together. But it'd have to take a lot more for the King to admit how much space you take of his mind, brushing Joshua off every time he tries to tease him about how smitten he apparently is with you. He wouldn't say he is smitten or anything, he is simply worried about the well-being of the woman supposed to rule the kingdom by his side. Nothing weird about that, right?
He's only halfway through his second beer of the night when a conversation catches his ears, his eyes focused on whatever Mingyu and Joshua are talking about while his true attention rests on a table a few feet away.
“The coronation was so weird,” one of the guys says, alcohol reeking even from the tone of his voice. It makes Seungcheol frown, glad he isn't the one sitting opposite him, smelling the drinks he had tonight. He shakes his head, redirecting his focus back on his two close friends. He knows people have different opinions on the coronation, the process and reasoning behind it. And honestly, he doesn't really care. As long as his closest enjoyed it, there is no need for him to dwell on it. But their conversation continues, taking a much more interesting turn.
“I mean, it was fast, out of nowhere, right. But you know what was weirder — the wedding announcement. Don't you think that was extremely fast?”
“She must be pregnant!”
“The King really didn't waste any time,” a laugh leaves his lips and Seungcheol finds himself glancing their way. There is just the two of them, both of them drunk and neither of them paying attention to their surroundings. If they had, maybe they'd notice the topic of their conversation is right beside them.
“Honestly, can't blame him for fucking her and wanting her baby. Have you seen her? I'd pay to see her bouncing on my cock,” the same guy who started the conversation laughs loudly, taking another sip of his beer. Seungcheol's eyes widen immediately, his knuckles turning white from the way he grips his glass. “We should visit the brothel after our drinks,” he suggests, nodding rapidly, obviously liking his own idea. “What do we know, maybe she works there too, with a body like that.”
His friend laughs, agreeing.
“Hey,” Cheol calls out, deciding enough is enough. The two drunks raise their heads, meeting his eyes. It takes a second for them to register who they're talking to, but he loves watching their eyes widen as realization sets in. The less of an idiot one — as Seungcheol decides to call them — opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again, knowing there really isn't anything he could say to fix this.
“What's going on?” Joshua wonders, both him and Mingyu watching their friend curiously.
Seungcheol doesn't pay them any attention, though, his eyes locked on the two idiots. “My wife,” he states, anger beaming through his voice. “Is far too busy ruling the kingdom to look your way. So if I were you, I'd shut my fucking mouth and get out of my sight before I have your heads cut for disrespect and conspiracy against the Crown.”
“We didn't—”
“Now,” he rasps, too irritated to bother even pretending to hear them out.
The two guys quickly jump from their chairs, almost tripping over their own feet and falling down as their vision blurs, their head spinning. Their glasses are still halfway full, but that's not the main subject of their worries at the moment. Neither of them looks him in the eyes again, quietly cursing each other out for not keeping their mouth shut before hurrying out of the pub, ignoring the owners call after them not to come back again.
“What was that about?” A disbelieving chuckle leaves Joshua's lips as he brings his beer to his mouth, keeping his eyes on his brother.
“I rule over brainless animals,” Seungcheol grumbles an answer before gulping down the rest of his beer at once. The bitter taste soon turns rich, the liquid sliding down his throat with ease.
“Whoa, slow down,” Mingyu shakes his head. “No need to drink your ass off because of them.”
“Didn't you two take me out so I could do exactly that?” He waves at the over to pour him another one and he nods. When he looks around the pub again, there is a lot more eyes on him, everyone whispering about what just happened. Great. Truly amazing. His annoyance only grows, and he wants nothing more than to join you in your little corner of his gardens and look with you at the flowers they have to offer.
The two share a look before looking at their King again, telling each other everything they need with their eyes. “I didn't know you care of the Princess so much,” Joshua comments casually, testing the waters.
“I don't, that's why,” he refuses, not meeting either of the guys' eyes as he waits for the owner to bring him another beer. As soon as he does, he takes another long sip, not caring what it might look like to the people around. He needs to wash his anger away and if this is how he does it, then so be it. He'll never be able to please all of his people, so what's the big deal in making a few more lose their believes in him?
Mingyu hums, not trusting him in the slightest. “You're just passionate about what the others think of you, right?”
“Something like that,” he brushes him off, refusing to discuss this further. “Now, can we focus on why we came here? Aren't we supposed to celebrate my last day before becoming a husband?”
“Right,” Joshua nods, deciding to follow his brother's lead for now. If he doesn't want to talk about it, then so be it.
If the palace was chaotic at the day of the coronation, you don't want to put a name on today. You barely got to eat breakfast in peace before Daniela and two maids on her side came rushing for you, claiming they need you immediately. You didn't question it, assuming you'll be able to finish your breakfast later after you'd be done with them, but you were dragged through the palace ever since then, everyone needing your opinion or style a part of you you didn't even know needed it.
You can't blame them, you know it's their job to make sure everything — including you — is perfect. You just wish they'd give you a time to breathe in between. You've tried all your clothes a week prior and yet, they need you to do it all over again. You need to get dressed just to take it all off again and wait for after lunch to put it back on. It's time you wish you could spend in the comfort of nature and clear your mind before the big day.
“When will this be done?” You wonder, holding in your breath as Daniela ties your corset the tightest she can. You can't breathe well but that is likely exactly what she was going for. All of your undergarments are in some sort of beige shade, making you feel bland. You know it's a wedding, and that there isn't much color you could add, but you miss your every day dress either way.
You wonder what clothes the King will be wearing. If he'll have the same royal blue you can't help but gaze at every time, if his eyes will stand out, or if they'll force him into black just so he can prove some authority. As much as you're certain black will suit him just as much, you hope he'll get to wear something else, and showcase some color for the both of you.
“Patience, Your highness,” one of the maids smiles at you, hoping to ease your mind. You sigh, looking around the room. With everything going on, you won't be surprised if they take hours until allowing you to go relax again. You'd much rather stand by and check if the place is all prepared or stay locked in the council chamber like your soon to be husband, away from all this.
“May I at least get something to drink?”
“I'll send your guard,” Daniela speaks up, trying not to pity you too much as her eyes meet yours. You nod, and before you can add anything else, a maid is calling you over, asking you to take a few steps forward on the dais. Listening, you follow their directions, watching them finish dressing you up and start fixing things. You're in for a long rest of the day.
♡⸝⸝
Standing in front of the cathedral, you feel more nervous than ever. Knowing everyone is waiting for you inside, expectations high, every part of you wishes you could turn around and run away. But you know you can't, you can't even think about what kind of trouble you'd get into if you did.
Your ladies-in-waiting went in just a few seconds ago, right after the flower girl, leaving you all alone. You never wished your parents would have stayed for the wedding more than now. You want to walk down the aisle with your father, just like you read of other ladies doing. You want to know your mother and siblings are sitting in the very front, excited to see you in your white dress. But you can't have either. The King's parents aren't here either from what you heard, but you can't imagine anyone questioning him as much as they'll question you after seeing you all alone.
God, you want to go back to your chambers.
“My lady.”
Your eyes widen, making you turn around immediately. You've never felt more grateful for hearing his voice. “What are you doing here?” You ask, eyeing Taehyun up and down. His usual uniform is switched into a ceremonial one, matching with the rest of the guards inside you can only assume. He shrugs, like it's not a big deal. “Shouldn't you be in position with the rest of the knights? What if they discipline you for disobeying orders?” You panic, despite every part of your body wanting to ask him to stay, beg him not to leave you alone.
You wonder if he'd find you pathetic if he learned what's going on through your head. You wonder if the King would, if he'd decide you're not a suitable match for him anymore because he doesn't want to rule with someone too scared of what others think of her.
“I doubt they would,” he shakes his head. He doesn't say anything for a moment, letting you relax in his presence before offering you his arm. “I'm here to walk with you. His Majesty asked me.”
“He did?”
Taehyun nods, “He thought you should walk with someone. And since I've been doing well protecting you over the past few weeks, he asked me to protect you today during the ceremony as well.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking about the man waiting for you inside, the same one you've dreamed of many times before, the one who's made you nervous without even being around, the one who apparently thought through every single part of this ceremonial, even who'd walk you to him. A part of you just wants to rush inside, wrap your arms around him and thank him for everything as you let tears run down your cheeks.
Instead, you wrap your hand around your knight's arm, smiling up at him as he steps forward with you.
You walk on the red carpet beneath you, focusing forward instead of on the quiet whispers of nobles around you. You can feel their eyes on you, a lot of them with smiles on their faces, while some reek of jealousy. But there is only one pair of eyes in this room that matters to you, one pair of eyes that makes all of this easier.
You tighten your grip on the bouquet of flowers in your hands, sharing a small smile with the King waiting for you. He stands tall, intimidating, yet as welcoming as the first time you saw him in the gardens. Even from afar, his eyes stand out thanks to the navy blue gown he is wearing, lined with gold details matching yours. You can't imagine him anyhow else. This is perfect.
Keeping your eyes on him, you step on the ceremonial platform, joining his side. Taehyun quickly moves out of the way, sharing a brief smile with your lady-in-waiting before falling into space with the knights on the side. Seungcheol gives you one last reassuring smile before facing the priest. You feel your heart aching at the small motion, unsure if you want to love or hate how well he can read you.
“Dearly beloved,” You keep your eyes forward, allowing the priest your full attention. “We are gathered to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. It is said that marriage hath in it less beauty but more of safety than the single life.”
Does it? Is marriage less beautiful than the life you were living until now? You'd hope otherwise. And as you turn to the King of Veloria, ready to exchange your vows, your hope only grows.
You briefly meet eyes with Seungcheol's brothers standing behind him before looking at him. “I, the Princess of Elowen, take thee, Choi Seungcheol, to honor our duties and fulfill our legacies. I shall honor our kingdom and our family. In sickness and in health, in times of war and peace, I promise to stand by your side.” Unable to avert your eyes, you find yourself getting lost in his orbs as you speak, the chocolate brown bringing you the same comfort you once thought only nature could provide. But ever since coming here and meeting him, you're learning a lot new things. This might just as well be one of them.
“I, the King of Veloria,” he starts, his eyes softening. You feel your cheeks turning red, everything around you becoming blurry. It's just you and him at the moment, despite the cathedral being full of nobles. He repeats your words, your name falling of his lips with so much ease and grace your head spins. “I promise to stand by your side,” he whispers, the words holding more meaning to you than he probably realizes.
“In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” The priest brings you out of your thoughts, but before you can properly look at him, and focus on anything else other than the man beside you, he holds your hand in his, his fingertips cold against your bare skin. Your breath catches in your throat, but he is there to hold you, giving your hand a light squeeze. You nod, more of a reassurance to you than to him, and he slowly slides the diamond to your ring finger.
It's only then than you manage to avert your eyes from him, watching your connected hands. “I now pronounce you man and wife.” The priest finishes and your hand slowly falls to your side. It feels like the first time you actually register what's happening around you when you face the crowd, the soft melody played by the royal band reaching your ears.
This is it.
You shall be the Queen of Veloria now.
It is as scary as it was the first time you heard the news.
♡⸝⸝
The wedding celebrations feel a lot more like celebrations for your people than you and your husband. You haven't seen Seungcheol in hours, but that's something you've gotten used to. He is busy, it makes sense. You've had your company despite his absence, anyway. You were greeted with nobles you once read about for their great achievements, getting their blessings and praises on your looks tonight. A part of you knows they are approaching you simply to get on the King's good side but you don't mind. As long as you can focus on anything other than the fact your handsome husband is missing at the moment, you feel okay.
“Your Majesty.” You smile as you watch lord Song bow in front of you, his smile nothing if not sincere. “I didn't realize I had the pleasure of dancing with my Queen.” You allow him to kiss the back of your hand as a greeting.
“Back then, I was no Queen,” you remind him, urging him to stand straight again. You will take a moment getting used to the honor everyone pays you.
“You look beautiful tonight, Your Majesty,” he says instead of acknowledging your previous comment.
You give lord Song a bit of your time, engaging in a chat with him as he accompanies you to get you a drink. It's then that you finally catch a glimpse of your husband, his brows furrowed together and eyes tired as he dismissed his Head Advisor, obviously not in the mood to talk with him. Your smile falls as well when you see him, wishing to change directions and meet with him instead, to ask him what's bothering him and help.
You wonder if it's the first born curse, wanting to take care of other people. Because every single bone in your body itches for you to drop everything and help him.
“Mingi!” Lord Song turns around upon hearing his name, meeting eyes with his older brother. “That is my cue,” he says gently, giving you one last of his smiles. “I shall bother you no longer, Your Majesty. My sincere congratulations,” he bows with his right hand over his heart, leaving you alone. For the first time since the King's coronation when your parents left Veloria, you are happy to be on your own.
There's no hesitation as you walk past your people, offering them all your best smile. But honestly, you don't care about the impression you leave on them, you just want to get to him. “Seungcheol,” you breathe out as soon as you reach him, catching his attention immediately. He turns to face you, his eyes softening when they meet yours. Your cheeks flush at the sudden attention. You didn't think this through enough. “May I ask you for a dance?”
His hand reaches forward, palm up. “Of course,” he smiles and you hold his hand in yours. Guiding you through the nobles surrounding you, he finds the center of the hall, eyeing the people around. They don't need to be told twice, stepping back to give you the much needed space. It's just you and him, everyone else standing aside, watching you. The soft melody reaches your ears as you put your left hand on his shoulder, your right still holding his. His palm rests on your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes stay locked together as you begin dancing, the world around blurring — just like it happens to do every time you allow yourself to get lost in his eyes.
“You look quite upset,” you mumble when you know no one else can hear you.
“Do I?” He blink confusedly, doing his best not to mess up his steps. “Please, don't think it has anything to do with you.” You hesitate, unsure of your place. You are the Queen of Veloria, his wife, but does he think of you highly enough to let you in, and tell you what you want to hear?
“What happened?” You ask after a brief pause.
Shaking his head, his thumb brushes slow, barely noticeable, circles on your back. “Nothing of importance,” he assures you. “I'm simply not pleased with the council wanting to keep me busy on my wedding night.”
“Will you work tonight?”
“I don't know yet,” he admits, trying to find any sign of disappointment in your eyes. He doesn't find it though, not since the only thing your eyes are filled with is the need to be closer to him than you already are.
A few nobles join you, dancing along with you, but you don't pay them attention. You don't know half of them, anyway. The song slowly comes to an end and you drop your hands to your sides despite wishing to do the opposite. “I shall find Lady Avanzini and ask her to accompany me back to my chambers, I've grown quite tired,” you excuse yourself, but before you can leave, he stops you.
“Our chambers,” he corrects you, watching you blink confusedly. “With today, our honeymoon begins. We shall share a room, for a week at least. The honeymoon,” he hesitates, biting back the words resting on his tongue. “It is a tradition. You can return to your chambers next week.” You nod, letting him know you understand.
“Then I shall see you again later,” you stop yourself from dropping into a courtesy out of habit, simply saying your goodbye with your eyes before walking away.
It doesn't take you long to find your lady-in-waiting, interrupting her chat with Taehyun. “Lady Avanzini,” you smile at her before directing your attention to your knight.
“Yes, Your Majesty?” She asks while dropping into a courtesy. This feels much more odd than you thought it would. If getting used to the respect other nobles pay you will take you a while, you can't even imagine how long before you get used to Daniela doing so. “Can I help you with anything?”
“I'd like to go back to my chambers— the King's chambers,” you correct yourself. Her smile turns into a smirk, one you could recognize from miles away. She's planning something, something you probably won't like.
“Shall I join?” Taehyun asks, glancing between you and your lady.
“Next time,” Daniela turns to him, sending him a wink. “Her Majesty won't be needing your protection tonight, I'm certain the King will take care of her well enough.”
You tilt your head confusedly but before you get a chance to ask what she means, she's leading you out of the Great Hall, finding the nearest maid to tell her she needs to bring your night gowns to the King's chambers.
“Are you excited for your honeymoon?” Daniela asks as you walk through the halls, everything quiet with everyone at the Great Hall, celebrating your marriage.
“Is there anything to be excited for?” You question, causing a soft laugh to bubble out of her.
“Of course there is, Your Majesty,” she proclaims. “Staying in bed with your husband all week, I can't imagine anything as exciting.”
“Staying in bed?”
“Yes. How else do you believe you shall spend your honeymoon? It is given for the newly weds to produce an heir and enjoy each others' company.” An heir. You are supposed to produce an heir with the King this week? In bed? Every chat you share with your lady, you question just how little you know about ruling and the duties it brings you. “I mean, I am well aware you and His Majesty didn't marry out of love, but that doesn't stop you from fulfilling your duties.”
“Of course,” you nod, even though you aren't quite sure what she means. You'll have to ask your husband when he arrives. You are sure he knows much more than you, so maybe he'll be able to help you understand.
Daniela helps you change before going back to the banquet. You take your time exploring the King's chamber, admiring his view, wardrobe, and even the washing room connected to it. Everything is double the size of your own chamber, which you understand. But as soon as your eyes land on the large bed he owns, you wish this was your room.
“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” You recognize the voice, closing the wardrobe and turning around to face the door. Seungcheol walk in right after, dropping his ceremonial coat to the floor. Your eyes widen when you see him, unsure what to do. He seems to have forgotten about you. “But, Your Majesty!” There's another male voice coming from behind the door but he decides to ignore it, shutting the door closed after himself. “A moment of relaxation is all I asked,” he mumbles under his breath, annoyed.
“Seungcheol,” you call our carefully not to scare him. He raises his head, finding your eyes in an instance. Your name slips past him lips, realization settling in as he remembers your earlier conversation.
“I apologize, I—” he curses quietly, quickly gathering his clothes from the floor and bringing them to the closet you are standing beside. “I am truly sorry for my ill manners.”
“Seungcheol,” you repeat, your voice soft, trying to get his attention back to you. “It is perfectly fine. I have three younger siblings, remember? I am used to being messy behind closed door and allowing to speak freely with my closest ones.” He gives you a smile, nodding. “That is, of course, if you don't mind me speaking so casually to you?” You question nervously. Despite his effort to get you to drop his title since your first meet, you still worry about being too forward with him.
“I am happy you do,” he assures you, closing his wardrobe and facing you again, his body only inches from yours. You feel hot, standing so close to him. He reaches forward, brushing a messy hair behind your ear before meeting your eyes again. “I haven't had the chance to tell you yet, but you looked beautiful tonight. You look beautiful every day, actually.”
Your cheeks only redden more and your eyes fall to the floor, unable to look at him at the moment. “If you give me a moment to wash up, we can go to sleep. Or talk, anything you wish.”
You nod, standing frozen in place as he walks around you to get into his wash room. “Wait,” you blurt out, facing him again. “Can I have a question now?” He nods, waiting for you to speak. “I have…” you think over your words carefully, trying to find the right thing to say. “I was told the honeymoon is supposed to be used to produce an heir.” You watch his eyes widen at your words, realization of how this conversation is going to go washing over him. “I am not sure how that works.”
“Your mother didn't teach you?” You shake your head. He keeps his eyes on you, also hesitating. He seems nervous, and it makes you wonder how you are meant to understand anything if it's so difficult to talk about. “There is enough time for us to produce an heir,” he settles on instead, deciding it is safer to run away from this conversation for now.
“Is it that difficult?”
“No, no,” he shakes his head with a sigh, taking a few steps forward to reach you again. “It isn't difficult. But I do not believe it is something you'd want me to teach you about now. We can wait.”
“Seungcheol,” you try again, your big eyes gazing into his chocolate ones. “Please. I wish to know.” He is nervous, that much you can tell from the way he looks at you, as if he is scared to break you, to harm you. It only confuses you further. Your heart beats faster because of his look, but your head tells you it's wrong, almost as if it wanted to warn you him being so secretive isn't right. “Please.”
You watch his eyes drop to your lips, the inner fight behind his eyes obvious. He can't decide whether to step closer to you, close the gap between you and give you what you want, or if he should step back, turn around and run away from you, guard himself like he thought he would do back when he first told William you are the one he wishes to marry.
“When an heir is produced,” he whispers, not wanting to break the moment. Tugging your hair behind your ear, he keeps his thumb on your cheek, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. “You must be naked. Here,” his free hand gently brushes between your legs, barely touching, “is where it all happens.” Your breath catches, his nervousness moving onto you as you feel your body begging you to press against his, be even closer than you already are.
“You… Are you naked as well?” You whisper, knowing your voice would break if you tried speaking normally.
“I will be,” he nods. “If that's what you want.” Your body moves on its own, nodding to him. You watch his eyes flash with need, something in him snapping. He leans closer, no hesitance left as he presses his lips to yours, one of his hands still on the side of your neck while the other squeezes your waist, fingers digging into your flesh.
Your mouth moves against his on instinct, your eyes closed as you tilt your head slightly. Your entire body burns as your hands find his shoulders, holding onto him as he kisses you. You've read about this many times before, about how it feels for people to kiss their loved ones, but none of the books has been able to capture the feeling enough. You feel every one of his touches in your entire self, your head clouded with him — his smell, the way he grips your waist, the softness of his lips, and the way he presses into you.
If this is what every kiss feels like, you understand why lovers do it so often. You don't want this moment to end, you want to stay in his touch till your end.
But that's not how it works, and you have to pull back to breathe. But just as you are leaning for more, he steps back, his hands falling to his sides. Your brows furrow confusedly, confused as he averts his eyes from you. This is nothing like the kisses you have read about, you realize. Stories don't capture the feeling of your lips pressed against his well enough, just as they don't capture the feeling of your heart shattering into pieces when you are forced to watch him walk away from you right after.
“I shall go meet with Seungkwan and the council, they said it was important,” he blurts out, not meeting your eyes again as he rushes out of the room as fast as he can, not caring that his hair is messed up or that he is breaking you into pieces with this simple action.
There are many ways Seungcheol thought his honeymoon would go, but in none of the scenarios he imagine has he kissed you like you were his entire world just to run away right after in a foolish attempt to guard himself from what it means.
Love has never been in his cards, he has reminded himself of that many times since you've arrived. But every time he sees you looking up at him, your big eyes sparkling with what he could only call pure interest, he believes his words less and less. There is simply something about the way you look at him and speak to him — that has him believing, believing he could be so lucky and rule by the side of someone he loves.
Last night was the breaking point. With you in his room, in just your sleep wear and your innocent eyes asking him how you could make a child with him, it was impossible to resist you. You were always beautiful, he has never denied that, but nothing compares to how incredibly gorgeous you are with your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen.
The image of you right after he's pulled away from the kiss will stay in his head forever.
But so might the sadness in your eyes when you watched him step away.
To this hour, he isn't sure why he did what he did. He had a chance to be with you, do what everyone has been wishing him and fall in love with you, but honestly, the thought of that is scary.
He's studied the principles of politics, social manners and sword fighting. No one has taught him how to love, though. No one has ever told him how scared he'll be every day, how much he'll want to protect you and wrap his arms around you, guard you from the ugly of this world. Jumping into something like this, something he was never meant to have, is much scarier than ruling the kingdom.
He hasn't stopped thinking about you, about how much you must hate him at the moment. Not when he sat in his study with Seungkwan, not when he rested his head on the table and closed his eyes for a brief nap, or when he ate breakfast all alone, because you have gone to the gardens before anyone else could wake up.
“Your Majesty, do you wish to leave?” Kaito brings him out of his thoughts. Seungcheol blinks quickly, reminding himself where he is and that he is in no place to be daydreaming about the way your lips felt against his. “We can move this conversation to later,” he offers, well aware of the fact the King isn't paying him the attention he wishes to have.
“Please,” Seungcheol nods. “I need to go for some fresh air. We can come back to this after lunch.”
“Perfect,” he nods, hesitating before leaving. His eyes flicker between his King and the window behind him, well aware of the reason he wishes to go outside.
“If you excuse me then,” His Majesty mumbles, not meeting Kaito's eyes again as he rushes out of the study, his destination clear. There is a lot going in his head at the moment, and as much as he wants to guard himself and go through with the way he knows, the unknown calls to him just as much.
He doesn't need to look for you for long, finding you right where he thought he would, crouched down near the lilies with your hands resting over your knees, your eyes glued to the flowers in front of you. Taehyun stands a few feet away from you, close enough to be able to help if anything happened, but far enough to give you personal space.
Your name slips past his lips, making you look up at him. He watches as sadness flashes in your eyes, feeling his heart clench in his chest. He drops down beside you, hugging his knees the same way you do. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you lie. He can see right through you, a sigh leaving his lips as he shakes his head. “I'll be fine,” you correct yourself but it's still not an answer he'd like.
“What is it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Can I help?” You shake your head as quickly as you can, refusing. Standing up, you fix your dress and take a few steps away from him, pretending to admire the other flowers. He can tell you just want to get away from him, though. He stands up as well but respects your space, staying in place.
“I miss my family,” you mumble quietly, not sure if he can even hear you. But when he calls out your name, you know he did. He waits for you to turn around, his eyes finding yours immediately. “I know I am the Queen now and it is silly. I am well aware how this makes me look, but I can't help how I feel.” Your words hold a much deeper meaning and you both know it. There is only as much emotions you can hide from each other. “I don't like feeling alone”
“You aren't alone,” he interrupts you, carefully taking a step towards you. You don't move back, which he takes as a good sign. “You have me,” he reminds you. “I am right here.”
“Don't,” you shake your head, your lips trembling slightly — a movement so small he doubts anyone else would notice. You probably don't notice it either. Your eyes are hollow when he looks at you, like you can't decide if you feel empty or too much as you speak to him. It hurts him just as much as it hurts you. “Don't do that.”
“Do what?” The words come out a lot more desperate than he intended for them to, the silent plea in them on full display. He hopes with everything in him Taehyun isn't listening, and he can somehow keep this conversation between just you and him.
“This,” is all you say, biting your lower lip as you look at him. “Giving me home— acting like we are beyond just a partnership on a paper.”
Oh.
He'd lie if he said that didn't sting. But it is what he deserves, it is what he made you believe last night after all. But no matter how much he wants to hide from the fact, you are more than that. You are more than a stranger who came to power thanks to him. You are a dream, beautiful, brilliant, caring dream he wishes to see every time he goes to sleep.
He opens his mouth to argue, to apologize for last night and promise he never meant to hurt your feelings, but the words don't get a chance to leave his lips as Taehyun's voice rings in his ears, a quiet curse leaving his lips as he glances around to see what he needs. If it's stupid, he'll make sure to let him know just how much he doesn't appreciate his interruptions.
“You've received a letter,” he explains, holding the piece of paper in his hands. Seungcheol's eyes flicker between the knight and the boy behind him still trying to catch his breath. “What does it say?” He asks, crossing the space between him and Taehyun and taking the letter from him when he can't give him an answer.
“I was told to give you this message as quickly as possible,” the boy breathes out when Seungcheol eyes him up and down. He can't be over the age of twenty, his brown hair messy and eyes nervously snapping from one person to another, scared he might get in trouble.
Nodding to reassure him it is okay, he opens the letter, scanning the words with his eyes. “Fuck,” he blurts out before he can stop himself, his hand dropping to his side again as he turns to face you, meeting your curious eyes. He hesitates, only scaring you further as you rush to him to read the letter yourself. He doesn't allow you, hiding it behind his back, his eyes pleading for you to leave it to him.
“Seungcheol,” you demand. “What is it?”
“There is…” he stops, unsure how to say it. “Your parents were attacked. No one is hurt,” he assures you before you can panic. “Everyone is okay, and they have moved to their winter residence, but we can't know how long that will be safe for them.”
“We have to help! Who attacked them? What—” He wraps his hand around your shoulders, pulling you onto him and letting you rest your head on his chest. “You have to help, please,” you whisper, the worst case scenarios running through your mind.
“I will,” he whispers back, pressing his lips to the top of your head. He is truly a fool. A fool who thought pushing you away would somehow help him be a better ruler, a fool who can't bear seeing you upset like this. “I'll get them.”
♡⸝⸝
A letter to your parents along with a carriage and a few of the best knights Veloria has to offer was sent as soon as you made it back inside.
Seungcheol's hands rest on the back of your chair — his chair — as you sit in his study, both of you carefully listening to what the council has to say. He speaks for the both of you, not because he'd doubt your abilities but because he knows you can't do it at the moment, too busy pretending to be okay in a room full of men talking about a possible war.
“How did it even happen? It's not like their security is small.”
“It could be an insider. Someone stole the guards' attention, allowing for them to get inside.”
“They got inside?” Your eyes widen as you finally speak as well. They redirect their attention to you, a pitiful look on their faces. Cheol's hand moves from the chair to your shoulder, giving you a tight squeeze. Your body moves on its own, your hand resting on top of his, holding onto him as you steady yourself. There is only as much bad news you can bear at the moment, and he is well aware of that.
“Can someone get Lady Avanzini in here as well as Kang Taehyun?” Seungcheol speaks up, interrupting them before they can even answer. “And give us a moment alone.” The council members exchange a look before slowly stepping out, the door slamming clothes echoing through the study room. “Hey,” his voice is soft unlike when he speaks to the others, walking over to your side and kneeling beside you.
Your eyes find his and you quickly shake your head. “I'm not going anywhere with Daniela and Taehyun,” you read his mind completely, making him sigh. Holding your hand in his, his eyes plead, plead for you to do as he asks. “I'm staying here with you,” you proclaim, shaking your head again. “I don't care what your plan is, but if you want me anywhere other than the room it all happens, you will have to carry me out with your bare hands.”
He tilts his head, his eyebrows raised as if he was question your words. “You do know I could do that with ease, right?” He watches your cheeks turn pink, like they have many times before, always messing with his head. He didn't mean for it to sound like this, he's better than to flirt with you when you are scared for your parents' well being, but gosh does he wish to keep talking just to see what reactions you'll give him.
“You should get your mind off things,” he says instead, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “Sleep, and hang out with your friend. And once this is all over, you can come to your family and tell them just how much you love them.”
“I am not leaving,” you repeat, leaning closer to prove your point. If you prove anything, though, it's that Seungcheol's heart can beat way faster than he thought. “I'd much rather go with your knights to pick them up than go to sleep.”
“Our knights,” he corrects you without hesitation, making your eyes flutter slightly. “And I'd much rather know you are safe so please, don't do anything reckless. I promise I'll get your parents here safely.” He keeps his eyes on you, unable to avert his eyes. You lean back, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you give in.
“Okay,” you nod. He sighs as well, relief washing over him. “Now, get off the floor,” you shake your head, a smile decorating your face. Seungcheol is convinced he could look at your smile for the rest of his life if you let him. Only if you'd let him. “It's not a good look for the King to be kneeling on the floor.”
“People might argue with you on that,” the words leave his lips before he can think properly about them, his eyes widening when he realizes what he said. “Forget that, you are right,” he quickly blurts out, letting go of your hand and pushing himself up on his feet.
Fixing his coat quickly, he looks ahead at the door, clearing his throat. His head clouds with thoughts he should certainly not be thinking about at the moment, the image of him on his knees in front of you making his head spin. He's in a need of some fresh air, and preferably a cold shower if he can excuse himself.
Thankfully, before he can do anything reckless, a knock on the door rings in his ears and he is greeted with Taehyun and Daniela. That was rather quick. “Your Majesty,” they both bow before stepping into the room. He gives them a brief nod, acknowledging their presence. He watches them walk forward, his eyebrow raising slightly at the sight of Taehyun's fingers brushing against hers. His eyes fall to you on their own, partly to check if you noticed as well, if you know anything, but mostly simply because something like this — a light brush of fingers in secret — makes him think of you, hope for you.
“Could you accompany Her Majesty back to her room?” Your eyes shoot to him but he decides to ignore it. “Keep her safe until we get her family to us. And, Lady Avanzini,” his eyes meet hers. “Please help her think about other things.”
“I thought I could stay with you,” you complain as you glance over your shoulder at him. Seungcheol's eyes soften when he allows himself to look down at you, hoping for you to understand. “Will you come to me at least? Be with me?” You whisper, causing his eyes to wince. He doesn't need to be asked twice, though, knowing his answer before the words even left your mouth. He'll do his best to be with you, to be the one bringing you on different thoughts as you wait impatiently.
“Of course,” he whispers back. Your shoulders are visibly less tense now, and you give him a gentle nod. His eyes stay glued to your figure as you stand up and walk around him, joining your friend. He knows this is no time for it, that his priority should be helping your family and thinking about his next moves, but he can't help but think about how beautiful you look, your dress hugging your body in the perfect way, and every part of him wonders just how more gorgeous you'd look if the dress came off.
“Shall I ask another guard to join my side?” Taehyun asks but it takes a second for the King's eyes to pry away from you and focus on him instead.
“No need,” he refuses. “We don't have more knights to spare at the moment and I trust you, Taehyun.” The knight quickly nods, and despite Seungcheol's intentions never being to put pressure on his back, it surely looks like it as he walks out of the study room with the two women.
“May we continue now, Your Majesty?” Kaito steps inside, the rest of the council right behind him. “Not yet,” he shakes his head. “I need to find Mingyu and talk to him.”
“May we know what for?”
“I need to assign him to my sister. Or do any of you wish to put your Princess in any danger?” Their response is immediate, all of them shaking their heads as they step aside to make space for the King, letting him walk away.
Your feet move faster than your mind does, rushing through the palace hallways with Daniela and Taehyun trying to catch up behind you. “You need slow down, they aren't going to run anywhere,” Seungcheol tells you but you went his words out, not even glancing his way. You'll pay your attention to him once you know everyone is safe again. You'll give him all your attention then, no questions asked.
Thanks to only looking ahead, you don't notice the stares you get from staff around you, or the way your lady and knight get lost behind you, only stopping once Seungcheol grabs your hand and forces you to. His tug makes you spin around, crashing against his chest. You don't step back, simply looking up at his chocolate eyes. “Slow down,” he breathes out. Your cheeks heat up, and you aren't sure if it is because of how close you are standing or embarrassment. Possibly both.
“I'm sorry,” you blurt out, gently pressing your palm against his chest as you push yourself back. His grip on your hand only tightens, keeping you close.
“Don't apologize, don't distance yourself from me. Stay with me.” Your eyes wince, lips falling apart but no words come out. So instead, you nod, glancing at your connected hands as you slowly lace your fingers with his. You catch his eyes falling to them as well, his fingers carefully closing around yours. “Let's have dinner tonight,” he says softly, and even though it's not a question, his gaze is uncertain, as if trying to read your thoughts.
“I'd like that,” you agree and his eyes soften, the nervousness you saw washing off. “Just the two of us,” you add for him, a small smile tugging on your lips.
“Just the two of us.”
You don't let go of his hand as you walk trough the halls, this time actually carrying yourself as the Queen you are supposed to be. You are well aware how it must have looked like, what your servants must be saying about you now, but it cannot be changed. Somehow though, with Seungcheol by your side, it doesn't feel as bad as it probably should. It doesn't scare you as much.
As soon as you step outside, you are greeted with your mother's smile as she takes in the sight of you and your husband holding hands. You excuse yourself from him, rushing to your family. “Darling,” your mother's hands rest on your arms, in what seems like a reassuring gesture. “You shine with happiness.”
“You looks beautiful,” Nari joins in and your eyes trail to your younger siblings. Does it look like you shine with happiness? You find yourself thinking about the King a few feet away from you, talking with the knights about something you can't make out. You wouldn't say happiness is the right words, you aren't sure if you can even put a name to what you feel when it comes to him. There are many emotions you could think off — joy, trust, adoration, crave, but also pain, fear, defeat — and together they all mix into confusion.
“Is everyone okay?” You scan them as carefully as you can, deciding not to acknowledge any of their comments at you. You aren't who's important right now, they are. “Everyone is fine,” your father's attention redirects to you, but his words don't reassure you as much as you'd hope. Something simply feels off, like this isn't over just yet.
“How about you take your sisters to the guest chambers and we'll meet you later, darling? We shall greet His Majesty and congratulate him to the wedding.” She doesn't congratulate you to the wedding but you don't mention it, watching her approach your husband.
“It's not fair, I want to go with you,” your brother complains, crossing his arms over his chest. It makes you chuckle as you softly pat his head, promising him you'll steal him later and you'll be able to spend time just the two of you. That seems to work, his eyes sparkling as he runs off to join your mother with a giggle.
“He acts like such a child,” your youngest sister shakes her head and you raise an eyebrow at her, eyeing her up and down.
“And you are so much better?”
“No, she isn't,” Nari scoffs, pushing her younger sister forward and telling her to mind herself before she gets in trouble with the Queen. You shake your head at them. You missed this, honestly. You missed your family and having them everywhere you go. In a sense, it made Veloria feel empty. Nowhere you'd go would you find your siblings running around and making a mess, which just feels odd. Thankfully, that can now change.
“Dinner,” Seungcheol mouths to you as you pass him to assure himself your plan is still on your mind. You nod, your lips seeled together as you try to contain your smile. It's silly, it is just dinner, nothing big. But you feel excited, looking forward to your night. You know you shouldn't get your hopes up considering what happened last night but something tells you he won't run from you again, that this time you might actually sleep in the same bed as your husband.
You lead your youngest sister into her chamber, asking the knight already waiting in front of her room to keep an eye on her. He simply nods, just like you expected him to. “Where to next?” Nari asks, wondering where her chamber will be.
“How would you like to check the Queen's chambers?”
“What?” Her eyes widen and she stops in her tracks. “Wait, no. You cannot.”
“I can,” you assure her. “I'm on my honeymoon,” you grin proudly. “I share a room with my husband now, which leaves my chamber empty. It deserves your love so it doesn't age badly.” You both know it won't, that there are maids taking care of your place even while you are out, but that doesn't stop you from wanting Nari to take it.
“Do you not mind?”
“Not at all,” you shake your head. “In fact, please stay there.” You watch as she bites back her smile, her eyes betraying her and telling you everything you need to know — she wants to stay there.
Leading her into her new chamber, you let her tell you about their trip to Elowen and back. You listen closely, trying to find anything that would explain the attack, anything that would give you a clue. It all just leads to the middle of nowhere, and you are stuck wondering what could have possibly went wrong.
Your family has always had enemies, of course, but it was never like this. Your father made some bad choices, made alliances with the wrong people in the past, but when you were leaving your home, everything was well.
Your name leaves Nari's lips, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glance at her, questioning her with her eyes. “How is it like?”
“How is what like?” You tilt your head in confusion, opening the door for her and following her inside her new chamber. Her eyes immediately scan the room, taking in the beautiful sight. You remember standing in the same place she does when you arrived for the first time, your eyes just as wide.
“How is it like being married?” Her eyes find yours again. You freeze, the spark of want in her eyes catching you off guard. It's this exact moment that makes you miss your family even more, knowing that something happened when you weren't there for her. It's only been a few weeks since you last saw your sister but it feels like ages. You wish you could have been there when thoughts like these started occurring in her mind, when someone who made her want to know of this stuff showed up.
“It's…” you hesitate, rethinking your words. “Thrilling,” you breathe out when the memory of last night appears in your head, the softness of Seungcheol's lips on yours still vivid. You can see him in front of you, in his shirt and messy hair, with his eyes full of hesitance before he closed the space between you, his lips crashing with yours. “And beautiful.” The memory of Seungcheol running away after kissing you flashes in front of your eyes but you push it aside, deciding to ignore it. “But at the same time, I don't feel like much changed.”
Nari hums. “Do you like being married to him?”
“I do,” you answer without hesitation. “I like him, I cannot imagine not liking being married to him.”
“I'm glad,” she mumbles, taking a seat on the bed. “I was worried when we were leaving,” she admits. “About how you were going to do here on your own, if you'll be fine. I even debated asking our parents to stay longer, to stay here as long as possible, but I'm happy to see you happy.”
You smile at her. It's nice to know now that you are gone, your family still has someone looking out for them. “I am,” you assure her. “I do feel happy.”
“Do you think I'd be happy in a marriage?”
“I think you will always have a place in here if anyone makes you question if you are happy or not, even if it's for just a brief second.” She grins, and you take a seat beside her. “Is there a specific someone you are asking this for?”
She looks down into her lap, debating if she should tell you or not. “Me and Lord Nishimura have been exchanging letters ever since the banquet, and I look forward to hearing from him every day,” she finally says, not looking up from her lap. Oh? Every part of you wishes you would have gotten to know him better when he was here for the coronation, that you would have asked him a bunch of different things about him and his place of origin. Maybe you still can. Someone surely knows of him here.
“Does he make you happy?” Is all you need to ask for now, though. All your other questions can wait for later, for someone else. What matters now is how your sister feels.
“Yes,” she nods, meeting your eyes to prove her point. “I think he does.” You hum, a soft smile spreading across your lips as you reach for her hand.
“In that case, just keep doing what are were until now. What's important, is how you feel.”
“What if…” she averts her eyes, gazing at your connected hands. It's been long since you held her hand, since you had the opportunity to be her big sister. You can't remember the last time you sat with just her, talking about whatever that has been bothering her. You need to fix that. You need to find time to spend with all your siblings now that they are here again. “What if they pick someone else for me, though? You haven't married for love either.”
You squeeze her hand. “You are still so young, Nari. You have yet to learn about the world and yourself. You shouldn't have to worry about marriage.” She nods, but you can see how much she hesitates. “I'll talk with our parents,” you proclaim, settling your mind on it. “Yeah? I'll tell them you still have a lot of time and they shouldn't rush you into anything. Trust me, they don't want to go against the Queen of Veloria.” A laugh bubbles out of her and you feel relief washing over you at the same time.
“Not to disrespect you, but I think they won't care as long as they have the King's reassurance of their alliance.”
“Well, then it's a good thing I'm having dinner with him and can ask him to stand by me instead of them,” you grin, standing up from the bed. “Which brings me, I shall prepare. I will see you again, though.” She nods, her smile now much more comfortable.
“Have fun tonight.”
“I will,” you smile back at her.
♡⸝⸝
“This one is it, trust me,” Dani nods proudly as she brings a dress from the rack in the very corner of the room that one of your maids brought when you asked them to prepare you for a dinner with His Majesty. You eye it up and down, your lips seeled together. Her smile falls immediately, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “No?” You shake your head, apology written all over your face. “Alright, just pick which ever one you like. But if it's ugly, we will seriously need to talk.”
You chuckle, nodding as you make your way towards her, gently running your fingers over the dresses you posses. It's only a small portion of what you actually own, most of your dresses still in the wardrobe in your chambers. It's only for a week that you are supposed to stay in this room, and apparently for those reasons it's not needed for them to bring all your clothes here. You'd like to argue, but you're not even sure if Seungcheol would appreciate you taking over his space. So for now, this will have to do.
“This one,” a smile tugs in the corner of your lips as you take down the same pink dress you wore to your first dinner here, your love for them still the same as that day.
“You have worn that one already,” Daniela points out and you agree. “It is rather plain, Your Majesty,” she adds but despite her dislike, you want to go out in this one. “Okay,” she nods when she notices the plea in your eyes, motioning towards one of the maids to help you out with it. “You have this beige undergarments, I think it'll go perfectly with it.”
“Actually,” you tilt your head sheepishly. “I don't think this dress needs one, right?” Glancing at the maid taking your dress off your hands, you catch her off guard.
“Whatever Her Majesty deems appropriate,” she blurts out quickly and you smile, meeting Dani's eyes again.
“What do you think?”
“I think you are finally speaking my language,” she breathes out a soft laugh, shaking her head at you. “And I'm sure His Majesty will love it too,” she assures you, hurrying you into the washroom. “Now, let's make sure you are fresh and clean as well.”
It's dark outside when you make it into the dinning room. Taehyun excuses himself in front of the door, letting you walk in on your own and taking his position. You smile at him, telling him to relax a bit. He doesn't listen though, keeping his eyes ahead without acknowledging what you just said. Of course he does, he is an amazing knight.
“My apologizes for being late, Your Majesty,” you smile, the door closing behind you. Seungcheol raises his head from the table, his eyes widening immediately upon laying on you. You watch as his expression softens and he motions for one of the guards behind him to pull your chair.
“You are as gorgeous tonight as always, Your Majesty,” he smiles back at you, taking in the sight of you. It honestly feels like a dream. He is unable to take his eyes off you, every inch of his body itching to hold you, to be able to touch your curves and press his lips to yours again. He watches you as you walk to take a seat on the opposite side of the table, quickly stopping you. “Bring Her Majesty a chair besides me. What is with the stupid tradition of man and wife sitting so far away.”
You bite back your smile as you walk over to him, taking a seat on his left. You glance around the room, acknowledging the two knights keeping you company as Seungcheol's knee brushes with yours under the table. It only takes one look from him for the two of them to leave the room, leaving you all alone.
“I love this dress,” Seungcheol breaks the quiet, your smile only widening. “It might be a close second to the one you wore to my coronation.”
“You remember the dress I wore to the coronation?” Your eyes widen. He shrugs like it's no big deal, reaching for your hand on top of the table. You gladly let him wrap his fingers around yours, your eyes flickering between his hand and face.
“I'm confident I could point out every dress you wore around me since you arrived.” You realize you don't need much to feel happy. As long as you are with him, everything he does makes you excited and your cheeks flush.
“I doubt that,” you shake your head, averting your eyes. He squeezes your hand, trying to get you to look at him again. You don't though, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
Your name leaves his lips, soft and elegant. His voice rings in your ears, making your heart beat faster. You are absolutely gone for him, so terribly gone. You are convinced none of the authors you read up until now were actually in love. The way you feel when you are with him can't compare to anything you have read, the emotions simply too strong to be put into words on paper.
“You consume so much of me I'd have to be blind not to notice and remember everything about you.” And there he goes again, messing with your head. It'd take a miracle for you not to feel like the luckiest person for being able to share these moments with him.
“Stop talking,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head is a mess, the image of him splattered everywhere, the memory of your kiss in the back of your mind and his words repeating in your head. You consume so much of me. How are you supposed to just go on about your dinner? Choi Seungcheol is insane. Absolutely insane. There is no other explanation.
“Baby, look at me.” His words bring you back to earth, your eyes shooting up to his immediately. There is a sheepish smile on his lips, his cheeks catching a hint of pink as well — even though he has yet to match your color. “I mean it.”
You open your mouth to answer, to tell him just how much he means to you, that you love spending time with him, that you love being his wife, that you'd love to kiss him, that you love him, but you don't get the chance to, closing your mouth again when a bunch of servants comes in, carrying your dinner.
You straighten your back, pulling your hand away from his as they set plates in front of you. You can feel his eyes on you as you do, but you don't have the courage to meet them, a part of you too scared he'll tell you he takes it back, or that maybe this isn't what he wants. Clearing your throat, you do your best to focus on the food instead of the man beside you and his knee that is still pressed against yours.
“May I have a question?” You whisper when everyone leaves and you are alone again.
“Always,” he encourages you, taking a bite of his steak.
“Do you know Lord Nishimura?” He tilts his head confusedly, obviously not a question he expected. And if he is honest, it doesn't feel the greatest having you ask him about a different man after he has opened himself to you without getting an answer. He feels vulnerable — a feeling he is starting to despise.
“Not much,” he shrugs, as if it didn't bother him at all. He knows it's probably stupid, that he is thinking about stuff that might have not even crossed your mind, but he can't help it. He is starting to realize he cares more than he'd want to admit.
“He's been sending letters to my sister,” you explain, as if you could read his mind, riding him off all his worries.
“Which one?” His eyes narrow and you roll your eyes, a bit worried he'd even consider you are talking of your thirteen year old sister.
“Nari. She said they've been writing letters to each other since they met at the banquet. He seemed fine but, I don't know, I think I just wanted to make sure you didn't know of anything I shall look out for.”
Seungcheol smiles again, assuring you that even thought he doesn't know him much, he hasn't heard of anything that should make you overthink this. “But if it'll make you calmer, we could ask Seungkwan tomorrow. It is a part of his job to know everyone, so I am sure he will be able to answer your questions better.”
“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, the way he talks of you as a duo, a pair, only making you happier.
A comfortable silence settles over you as you eat your food, stealing glances at your husband every once in a while. He catches you each time, his eyes meeting yours with a smile. You return his smile, finding yourself only falling for him more and more.
He places his cutlery down on his plate, tilting his head slightly as his eyes rest on you. You pretend like you don't see it, but you are pretty sure your flushed cheeks give you away. “Tell me about flowers,” he says and you almost choke on your own saliva. His eyes widen, his hand on your back in an instance, panic rushing through his veins. You shake your head in the air, bringing a glass of water to your lips to prevent any more coughing.
“You want me to tell you about flowers?” You ask, gazing into his worried eyes. They soften when he sees you are okay, and he relaxes again, nodding. Choi Seungcheol, possibly the greatest man you have met in your entire life, wants you to talk about flowers, your favorite thing in the world. The universe really took his time with this one, building him to an absolute perfection. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Why do you love them so much? All of your favorites, and if I should ask the gardeners to plant any of your favorites or if we have them all already.”
You find yourself melting slowly, your adoration for him only growing. Setting down your cutlery as well, you bite back your smile, thinking about your answer to all of them. “There is many kinds, it is incredibly hard to pick just one favorite. Lilies are beautiful, and seemingly many people's favorite, but so are tulips and orchids.”
“Which one is your favorite?” He prompts.
You hesitate, thinking about all the beauties the Veloria gardens have to offer. “Freesias, I suppose. They are the first flowers I took into my room after arriving here.”
“But those can't be the first flowers you loved.”
“They aren't,” you agree. “But they became my favorite the moment I set them in my chamber. I took them after our first dinner, when I was wearing this very dress.” His eyes scan your body again at the mention of your clothes, taking his sweet time craving the image into his head. “When I first became interested in nature, it was lilies that spoke to me the most,” you admit. “But I was six then, and all I knew were the few kinds we grew in our gardens.”
He listens closely without interruptions. The interest in his eyes would be obvious from miles away, and it only makes you keep going. “Ours were nothing like yours, so I only knew a small portion of them. Then, when I was twelve, I started reading about flowers, what they mean, what colors they can have and which ones are used for what. They were always my escape, a home, if you know what I mean?” You meet his eyes, blushing.
“I think I do,” he nods, reaching for your hand. You hold his hand in yours, watching as he laces your fingers together. “A comfort, a place where you could be yourself. I was told that is the same reason my mother had our gardens build — so she could have a place to run to.” He hesitates for a second, scanning your face. “Is that why you've been in our gardens so much? Were you looking for a safe space?”
“In a way,” you nod. “I think I was. But I learned to find comfort somewhere else as well since I arrived, in someone else,” you admit. “But then after our kiss, when you ran away—” your voice breaks, the memory right in front of your eyes. “The gardens were the only comfort I trusted.”
“I'm sorry,” his voice sounds just as broken, everything about his expression making you believe he truly means it. “I was scared. And I know it's stupid.” You squeeze his hand, hoping to give him the reassurance he so desperately needs. “But I was scared of you. Of what it might mean if I let myself fall, if I allowed myself to be vulnerable.”
“I was raised to be strong, forced to believe a King must have everything under control, including his emotions for the prettiest girl he's ever seen. So I ran, I ran away and buried myself in work so I wouldn't be able to think about how much I just wanted to go back to you and kiss you again, sleep in the same bed with you and wrap myself around you.”
“Do all that today then,” you whisper, your eyes pleading as you gaze into his. “Don't run away again and stay with me.”
He doesn't need to be told twice, reaching with his free hand for your chair and pulling you closer. You yelp, caught off guard. But as soon as your legs rest between his and he leans closer, your eyes soften again. His lips press against yours and you can instantly feel sparks in your stomach. This is one thing they got right in the books — it truly feels like fireworks. His right hand cups your cheek, tilting your head as he deepens the kiss, his left hand squeezing your waist.
You push your plate aside as you rest your hand on the table, trying to steady yourself. But it's hard, your body not listening to you and melting into his touch. You don't even register him picking you up and pulling you into his lap, but when you open your eyes again you find yourself exactly there. His eyes search your face for any sign of discomfort but he doesn't find any. Cupping his cheeks, you take your time just admiring him. “I love you,” you whisper, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them.
You watch as his eyes widen and something in him stops, a groan leaving his lips as his hand moves from your cheek to your neck, slightly pressing on the sides, his lips on yours again. Your eyes roll back, your legs weak. Everything about him — the way he looks at you, the way he holds you — makes your head spin, his presence consuming you.
Your hands wrap behind his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you moan into his mouth, pleasure taking over you. You're not sure what is happening, why you get a sudden itch between your legs or why there is so many butterflies in your stomach, but you know you don't want him to stop kissing you.
“Seungcheol,” his name leaves your lips, a quiet, broken, plea. He seems to understand your needs much more than you do, nodding into the kiss.
“I got you,” he promises, his voice ringing in your ears.
Seungcheol scoops you up in his arms, erupting a laugh out of you, a sound he is learning to be obsessed with. You hold tightly onto him, your arms wrapped around his neck. “I should have carried you like this to bed on our wedding night,” he shakes his head, regretting all his choices.
“You are doing it now,” you remind him, a smile decorating your already beautiful face. He is unable to take his eyes off you, knocking onto the door with his feet so someone would open them for him. Without waiting for the door, his mouth presses against yours again, similar smile you carry on his lips.
“Your Majesty—” Taehyun stops mid sentence, stepping aside to create more space for the two of you. Seungcheol pulls away from you for a moment, only so he can speak to him. “We won't be needing an escort,” he proclaims. “You can send guards to our door in,” he glances at you, taking in the sight of your innocent eyes batting your eyelashes at him. “Just take your time,” he finishes, not looking at him again as he claims your lips, carrying you into his chambers.
The moment your feet hit the ground again, his hands are on your waist, squeezing as much flesh as he can gather in his hands, pushing you back until your back is flat against the door. “Cheol,” you moan, your head falling back. Your lips are swollen at this point but it only makes him want to kiss you more, knowing he is the one who has turned you into such mess. Your entire body burns, needing to be closer to him.
“You asked about children,” he mumbles, his lips tracing wet kissing down your neck, paying attention to every bit of skin he can reach. “How they are made.” A soft, barely audible, whimper escapes you, sending a shiver down his spine. He'll need to hear another one, one much louder preferably. “Let me show you.”
“Seungcheol,” you beg him, unsure what it even is you are asking for, tugging on his hair. His hand slowly moves onto your back, harshly tugging on the laces holding your dress in place. He moves with a plan in his head, not wasting any time at taking the awfully gorgeous dress off your body.
“Is this okay?” His eyes find yours, waiting for your approval before letting your dress drop to the floor. A loud groan slips from his lips at the sight of your bare skin, breast on full display. “You aren't wearing any undergarments,” he mumbles, the realization making his head spin. You hum, your cheeks flushed as you watch his reaction, your nerves obvious. But if there is one thing he wants to show you it's how you have no reason to feel nervous around him. “You are so beautiful,” he reminds you, cupping your breast with his hands. They fit perfectly, his cock twitching inside his pants.
“Do you want my baby, love?” He asks, his mouth a mere inch from yours. “Do you want me to show you how we could make one?” You nod, desperate to feel him closer, to have his body press against yours.
“Please,” you beg. He doesn't need to be told twice, squeezing your breast in his hands before slowly kissing his way down your body until he is kneeling in front of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair in an instance, the sight of him on his knees, with his eyes glued to yours, making you moan again. His lips press to your bare thighs, taking his time showing love to all of you. Leaving a few marks behind, he faces your glistening pussy, all wet and ready for him.
“Have you ever…touched yourself?” You quickly shake your head at his question, your cheeks only turning more and more red. “There is this place,” he starts, carefully sliding his fingers between your folds. “That brings you pleasure, that makes you feel good,” his thumb presses against your clit, his eyes staying on your face to watch for your reactions. Your eyebrows furrow together, lips tightly pressing together as you try to contain the lewd sounds building in your throat in.
Your hips buck forwards on instincts, creating a smirk on his lips. “Do you trust me, my love?” He asks and you nod without hesitation, giving him all of you. Collecting your wetness on his fingers, he slowly thrusts his middle finger into your hole, slowly testing the waters. Your mouth falls open, your moans filling his ears as he wraps his lips around your bud.
If Seungcheol is anything, it's talented. Both of your hands find his hair as soon as his tongue slides over your clit, adding second finger. A part of you wants to pull him away, get rid of the intense pleasure he makes you feel, but a bigger part of you wants to pull him even closer. Glancing up at you, he continues working you with his mouth. Pulling his fingers out and making you whimper, he moves his hand to the back of your thigh, pulling your leg over his shoulder and telling you to hold onto him. You do, listening to his every word.
His tongue slides between your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit. His hums against your wet pussy make you shiver, back arching onto him. Your desperate cries only drive him crazier, precum leaking through his undergarments as he laps on your pussy.
There have been women he fucked before, women he went home with to relieve the build up tension — but never like this. He's never wished to have anyone as close as you are, and he's certainly never wanted anyone to come on his tongue so badly. Usually, he'd just quickly get it over with, chasing his own pleasure and then out, but not with you. He wants to take his time with you, devour every inch of you and take care of you. He'd be damned if he doesn't make you come multiple times tonight.
“Cheol!” You gasp, making him wince as you pull on his hair. He might end up with a bald spot at this point but he doesn't care enough, convinced this is all worth it. Your release comes crashing down on you, your eyes rolling back and hips rocking forward as he licks you clean, not letting a single bit go to waste.
He pushes back, ignoring the painfully hard cock in his pants and letting his eyes trail your body. Your legs shake, the orgasm obviously much stronger than he thought it was. It makes sense, he supposes. This is the first orgasm you felt after all. The realization hits him like lighting, his eyes widening and his cock twitching again. He is the first person to make you come. He is the first person to make you feel this good. God, he has a problem.
“Come here,” he whispers and you allow yourself to fall into his arms, your body visibly exhausted. “Can I continue?” He asks, his voice nothing if not gentle as he brushes your sweaty hair behind your ears.
“Continue?” You blink, causing a low chuckle to escape his lips.
“Babies don't come from this alone,” he explains, rubbing his fingers between your folds again. “You need to get my sperm into this pretty cunt of yours,” he thrusts two fingers inside, stretching you out. “But we don't have to do anything today,” he assures you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We can go to bed and sleep. We have our entire lives ahead together for that.” As soon as the words leave his lips his cheeks flush, the idea of spending the rest of his live together making him much more excited than he'd want to admit.
You shake your head, cupping his cheeks. His eyes gaze into yours, finding himself falling even deeper for you. “Give me a baby, Seungcheol. I wanna carry your baby.” If he was feeling feral before, he can't quite put a name to the desire that takes over him now, his entire body moving quicker than he can comprehend. A giggle bubbles out of you as he carries you to the bed, his lips glued to yours as he cups your breast again, rolling your nipples between his fingers. Your hands lock on the back of his neck, pulling him as close as possible.
“You make me lose my mind,” he mumbles between kisses, never staying away for too long. “Did you cast a spell on me?” You laugh, the sound echoing in his ears.
“Obviously,” you smile, watching as he pushes back and fights with the buttons on his shirt, hating being apart for so long. You sit up, helping him get his clothes off.
Everything is gone in seconds, all of his clothes splattered over the floor. It is certainly an ego boost, watching as your eyes trail down his body, gawking at his naked skin. Your pretty hand wraps around his cock, your eyes flickering to his. It's barely anything, just a brush of your fingers, but it makes him twitch nonetheless, every inch of him itching to see you jerk him off. The image of your lips wrapped around him flashes in front of his eyes, making him groan. There will be another time for that, he has to remind himself.
“Lay down, pretty. I'll take care of you, hm?” You look up at him through your lashes, the big puppy eyes you give him making him adore you even more. He watches you as you follow his words, your lips slightly parted and eyes sparkling with expectation. Settling between your legs, his lips find yours again, allowing you to focus on the kiss as he collects your wetness on his tip, rubbing his cock on your heat.
“Just focus on me, okay?” You nod, trusting him fully. Your lips fall apart, a soft gasp escaping when he pushes the tip in, giving you all the time you need to adjust. He doesn't rush, doesn't force you into anything. His thrusts are slow and controlled, the urge to chase his own orgasm as quickly as possible pushed aside when he is with you. He might have been with other women before you, but this is the first time it feels like this — like it actually matters.
Praises slip off his lips without him thinking much about what he is saying, one of his hands resting beside your head and keeping him up while the other plays with your breast, unable to get enough of how well they fit in his palm. The longer he looks at you, the more convinced he is he won in life. There is no one more incredible than you he'd want to spend his life with.
“Does this feel good?” You don't answer, broken whines leaving your lips instead. It makes him chuckle, loving how good he makes you feel. Your moans fill his ears as he slowly picks up his speed, feeling your walls squeeze around him. Your eyes are filled with lust as you look at him, his name falling off your lips like a prayer. With your hips rocking forward, your orgasm comes crashing down onto you faster than he thought it would. He wanted to come with you, but this will have to do as well.
Your name falls off his lips as he chases his own orgasm, only needing a few more thrusts after you. You gummy walls clench around him, driving him over the edge. Seungcheol's groan rings in your ears as he finishes inside you, thrusting a few more times just to make sure nothing leaves your body. As soon as he pulls back, he misses the feeling of your warmth. His eyes trail down your body, taking in the sight. He'll have to look at your every night to be satisfied. He doubts he'll ever get enough of looking at you.
“That was amazing,” you breathe out and his eyes find yours. A smile spreads on his lips, his eyes soft.
“You were amazing,” he proclaims, brushing the messy strands of your hair aside. “Do you feel okay?” You nod, because the truth is, you feel better than ever before.
“Is this what people do to make children?”
He nods, “It doesn't always have to be just to expect children. We can do this as much as you'd like. Just because. Just because we are married and love each other.” Your flushed cheeks and fucked out eyes make you absolutely stunning, the messy side of you attracting him as much as the put together one he saw earlier at dinner.
“Good,” you laugh. “It feels good.”
Seungcheol leans down, kissing your lips again. He falls down beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist before pulling you into his chest, closing his eyes. Tonight is going to be a great night. It might be the first night he gets to sleep beside you at night, but he certainly doesn't intend for it to be the last one. This is only the beginning.
You feel different when you wake up. It might be because of the man you wake up next to, or maybe it's because of the warm shower you take as soon as you get out of bed.
Who are you kidding, it's definitely because of Seungcheol.
His arms stayed wrapped around you throughout the entire night, his touch keeping you warm. You thought their pillows were incredible when you arrived, but now you know nothing compares to the feeling of sleeping on your lover's chest.
Or the feeling of his cock sliding between your folds as soon as you are both awake while he presses kisses all over your shoulders and back. You definitely don't mind getting used to this. You learned about love from books, about how such emotion was supposed to look and feel like, but you are starting to realize pages don't show you everything you need to know. If they told you about this part of love — the lewd noises and messy kisses — you are sure you would have wanted a husband much sooner. If you only knew about what it truly meant to be married, you wouldn't be so opposed to the idea.
When you shared your thoughts with your husband his smile fell off, muttering under his breath how he is glad you didn't in fact get married before he was looking for a wife. It made you laugh. It only took a few kisses and secret promises of forever to get his mood back up, both of you smiling as you left the chamber to do your own things.
“You have sparks in your eyes, Your Majesty,” Daniela's voice is teasing as she looks at you, a knowing smile on her face. “Did you have fun with His Majesty last night? On the dinner, of course.” You roll your eyes but a smile spreads on your lips. You meet her eyes, shrugging as if you had no idea what she's talking about. You are starting to understand her. The comments she's made before about men, comments you were certain would ruin her reputation if anyone caught her — it makes sense now. You don't blame her. In fact, you are quite certain you'll be craving your husband's touch a lot from now on, itching to be with him whenever you are apart.
“Are you certain you want to spend you honeymoon with me instead of your husband, Your Majesty?” Seungkwan asks you, his eyes nervously flickering between you and your lady. You don't have to turn around to know Daniela is giving him a look.
“I shall know what is best for me, don't you think?” He quickly agrees with you, blurting out apologies. “Besides, my husband is busy trying to find out who attacked my family. I couldn't be with him either way,” you glance at your lady, explaining it to her rather than the Head Advisor in front of you. She simply smiles at you, acting all innocent. Shaking your head at her, you walk forwards, taking a seat at the head of the table where you breakfast already lays. Taking a sip of your morning tea, you find Seungkwan with your eyes again. “I wanted to ask you about Lord Nishimura.”
“Nishimura?” He repeats, tilting his head slightly. You see the exact moment the name clicks and he connects it to a face. “Oh, yes,” he nods. “What would you like to know?”
“Do you think he is a nice man?”
“That isn't as easy to say as you'd like it to be, Your Majesty.” You hum, knowing he is right. The world isn't just black and white, there isn't just good or bad, but it'd still ease your mind if he could tell you yes. “I can tell you I haven't heard of anything that would make me think otherwise. As far as I know, he is a great swordsman and even though his studies weren't the greatest, he is growing into a well trained man.”
“My sister might hold an interest in him,” you explain, taking a bite. “And I'm simply worried if she isn't going to get hurt.”
“Did you have any certainty you wouldn't get hurt coming here, Your Majesty?” He asks back. Some might take it as a form of disrespect, but you simply smile, knowing what he means. Of course you didn't. You had no idea what to expect of Veloria and after arriving, you spent every free minute hiding in the gardens looking for an escape. He is right, there is no way to know without risking it.
“Thank you,” you smile at him, a quiet understanding passing between you. He smiles back, looking down at the table. “You should eat with me before you go.”
“Oh, no, Your Majesty,” he quickly shakes his head. “I shouldn't. In fact, I should get back to work soon. His Majesty only allowed me to miss the meeting because it was you who wanted to speak with me.”
“I insist. If you get into any trouble, I will talk to my husband about it and make sure he understands,” you smile, trying to focus on the man ahead of you and not the scene with Seungcheol beneath you that paints in your head. A part of you wishes for Seungkwan to get into trouble, simply so you could have a chat about it with your husband. Preferably one that involves less talking and more of your new favorite activity.
Seungkwan opens his mouth, probably to convince you otherwise, you assume, but he is interrupted by the door opening, two knights rushing into the room. “Mr. Boo,” he blurts out without acknowledging you. It sparks your interest, your head tilting to the side to see better. “We are here to escort you into the study room.”
“Why shall that be?” You interrupt, having all three men turn to you.
“Your Majesty,” the knights bow quickly, realizing their mistake. “My apologies for interrupting your breakfast. We have a direct command to bring Mr. Boo to His Majesty as soon as possible.” He doesn't tell you more, doesn't explain what is so urgent that they have to take him away from you. You don't question it further either, glancing at Daniela instead. She understands exactly what you want to say without any words needed, nodding to you.
Quickly standing up from the table, you follow the knights and Seungkwan out of the room, only to be met with a knight much more familiar to you. “Your Majesty, wait here,” he stands in your way and you are forced to watch the knights leave without you.
“Taehyun, don't stand in our way right now. What if something happened?” Daniela speaks up and his gaze shifts to her immediately, apology written all over his eyes. It only makes you more worried. What could have possibly happened for them to be acting like this? “Taehyun,” she tilts her head, worries written all over her face. “What is going on?”
He mimics her movement, his head tilting as he whispers an apology towards her. It's your turn to push at him, demanding to know what is going on and if anything happened to your husband. “There is a lead,” he finally admits. “And I have an order from His Majesty to keep you far away from there, no matter how much you ask me to take you to him or if you give me an order.” Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion. How can he think you'll leave it all to him again? God damn it, he has a wife now to stand by his side, so why does he keep trying to take care of everything on his own?
“It is for your safety, Your Majesty,” he assures you. His eyes fall to your lady again, hesitating. “My order only applies to Her Majesty, so I cannot stop you if you want to follow them, but I beg you.” Your eyes flicker between the two of them, realization settling in. Oh. Oh god. Were you so focused on your new relationship with Seungcheol you didn't notice one of your closest people falling in love? “Stay here. Let me protect you both for once.”
She sighs, nodding in defeat. You watch as relief washes over him, deciding not to make it any harder on him today. Turning around, you walk back into the dinning room with Dani and Taehyun right behind you, settling back in your chair. “Can you at least explain to me what's happening out there? What lead do they have?”
His hesitation is clear as day, fighting with himself about if he should tell you or not. “I don't know everything. Actually, I'm sure I don't know even half of it. But I caught a bit of their conversation, saying it might be someone from the palace.”
“From the palace? My parents' palace?” You question, all kinds of possibilities running through your head. You can't imagine anyone you grew up alone being behind this. It doesn't make sense. Your father has made enemies, but surely not with anyone on the inside, right?
“Your palace, Your Majesty,” he corrects you, making your eyes widen. This place. This very place you are ruling. That makes even less sense. Why would anyone from your people attack your family? You haven't had a proper chance to introduce yourself to them, thou you couldn't have angered anyone. Right?
“Taehyun, take me to my husband,” you ask but it's really a command. He shakes his head, refusing. “Taehyun. I mean it when I say I will convince him to fire you if you don't take me to him right now. Your job is to protect me, so protect me while I run towards danger.” His eyes flicker from you to Daniela, trying to see her reaction. You can almost see the internal fight he is having and you hate being the one forcing him into this situation. There is nothing you can do, though. You need to be a part of this.
“Okay, fine,” he sighs. “But try not to make my job any harder, could you?” You grin, jumping up from your chair again. “Your Majesty, please,” you can hear the regret in his voice but you don't acknowledge it, simply walking out of the dinning room, heading straight for the study room.
As soon as you push the door wide open you feel all the eyes in the room on you. You do your best not to show your anxiety, clearing your throat and straightening your back. “What are you doing here?” Seungcheol's eyes narrow at you before glancing at your knight. “Weren't you supposed to keep her safe away from all of this?”
You hear Taehyun gulp beside you unsure of what to say, and decide to jump in before he can. “Why do you keep doing this?” You question, everything about your tone giving away that you are upset. “Why do you keep trying to push me away instead of asking for my help? I thought we were done with this!”
A few whispers from the side catch your attention but you keep your eyes on your husband, watching as his shield slowly falls apart, his fight mode turning into something much calmer — something you love much more. There is an apology written all over his eyes, making you sigh. He motions with his head for you to join and you do, giving him one last disappointed look before taking his side. His arm wraps around your waist within seconds. “I didn't mean it like that,” he whispers so only you can hear. You only hum back, eying the council members in front of you.
“Who will explain to me what is going on?”
You watch the men exchange a look, debating what to do. It is only when Seungcheol prompts them to continue that they do, and you hate how even though you are their Queen just as much as he is their King, you still need his approval for people to listen to you. “As I was saying,” Kaito clears his throat. “Our next move should be finding William and arresting him as quickly as we can.”
“William?” Your eyes widen. There is only one William from the palace you've heard of, and it is hard to believe someone like him would be behind an attack on your family. “The previous Head Advisor?”
“We think it's his response to how I treated him on the coronation day. He wasn't aware I was replacing him, and probably wasn't happy with how I announced it either,” Seungcheol explains, his grip on your waist tightening — a possessive movement that makes your head spin. You know it's no time for that right now but he makes you weak in the knees. “He never liked the idea of us getting married either, so I think it all just pilled up. I'm sorry it is my fault your family got attacked,” the last sentence stays a secret between just the two of you, a whisper he hates saying out loud. It eats him alive, knowing he is causing you pain even after everything.
♡⸝⸝
You aren't sure how long you stand here for. Time blurs together as you listen to all the men talking, only some of their words sticking with you. You know the important — they have a plan how to get William. Taehyun and the rest of the knights leave the room, going to collect as many people as possible. The council and Seungkwan follow right after, leaving you alone with your husband.
Seungcheol takes a seat on his chair, spreading his legs apart and pulling you between them. You look down at him, holding his hands as he takes the sight of you in. “I'm sorry,” he apologizes without hesitation, squeezing your hands in his. You don't say anything, keeping your eyes on his. “I don't mean to push you away — I never want to push you away. Protecting my people is what I know the best, and my first instinct was to keep you save far away from this, with someone I know would protect you when I cannot.”
“It is the thought of you hurt that makes me act like a fool, because the truth is, I am a fool. I turn into a fool when it comes to you. I am sorry you felt like I was pushing you away. Those were never my intentions,” he assures you and a heavy sigh leaves your lips.
You sit in his lap, looking down at your connected hands. “I know. I know, love.”
“And I am also sorry for bringing all this onto your family. I should have never replaced him, none of this would have happened if I just learned to rule with him by my side.”
You shake your head, letting go of his hands so you could cup his face. “It is not your fault. You did everything right,” you proclaim. “I would hate to see you miserable and we both know ruling with William on your side would make you feel that way. And who knows, maybe he would have found a different reason, maybe he would have targeted you instead. You can't blame yourself for what happened.”
“You are the definition of perfection,” a soft laugh bubbles from his lips as he shakes his head in disbelieve — disbelieve that he gets to be here with you, share moments with you, and call you his. Closing the space between you, his lips press onto yours, letting you forget for a moment where you are and why you are here. You let him pull you closer and tug your hair behind your ear, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment instead of thinking about what is happening outside of these four walls.
But you have to get back into reality no matter how much you wish otherwise, pulling away with a soft smile. “When this is all over,” you promise him, your palm resting on his chest. “Once everything is behind us and we can focus on just us.” He smiles back, agreeing.
“Once this is over,” he nods. “Lets have dinner together.” You roll your eyes, remembering where your dinner night lead to last time. Not that you would be complaining. “So you can tell me how it's possible Taehyun brought you here despite my direct order not to listen to any of your orders,” a smile tugs at his lips, one you absolutely adore.
You shrug, acting all innocent. “What can I say, I have that effect on people,” you smile, trying to stand up. He only tugs you back, pulling you onto him. His eyes are narrowed, trying to read your face. He is jealous, that much would be clear to anyone. If he gets like this when he is jealous, you might have to make him feel that way more. “Relax, I have threatened to fire him if he didn't listen to me. I convinced him I have you wrapped around my finger and if I said I want him gone you would do it.”
“You weren't lying,” he says without hesitation, making your grin widen.
“I know,” your smile is impossible to hide as you escape his hold, glancing over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “You should do your best to take care of this. I'll be waiting for you in our chambers.” You disappear from the room before he can say anything, giggling as you think about the look on his face — his eyes wide, excited.
Being married is thrilling and beautiful, you explained that to Nari perfectly.
If there is one thing Seungcheol appreciates, it's having you by his side.
You stood by him through it all, holding his hand when he announced to his people a betrayal happened within the palace walls, and you were there to explain to them he has been arrested by your best knights when he couldn't do so, feeling like it was all his fault.
William was brought in front of the council shortly after Taehyun and others left the study. When Seungcheol heard they found him in a local pub, taking with the common about secrets he's learned during his stay and bad mounting his ill father, his anger only grew. Taking revenge at him was one thing, holding it against him for humiliating him during his coronation was understandable too, but everything else was making his blood boil. How dared he? Attacking your family already crossed the line, but talking ill of his father who has done nothing but trusted William's judgment was only adding salt into the wound.
There was nothing he wanted to do more than wipe the awfully annoying smirk off William's face when he saw him. But you were there again, with your arms wrapped around his and reminding him where he stands.
It didn't take long to decide of his future, his punishment. The entire council agreed on a form worthy of his betrayals within minutes. But it was your opinion that mattered to him the most. If you agreed with the rest of his men, he wouldn't hesitate executing him in the center of the town for everyone to see. But deep down he knew that wasn't something you'd agree with, which was also why he waited for your comment.
And despite the council's arguments, trying to convince him such actions shall never be forgiven, he decided for exile. William might still be able to walk around, but far, far away from you or your family. And if he even dared to come close or conspire against the kingdom, he would make it his personal mission to get rid of him.
He was send away the following day along with the people conspiring with him. Turns out, his experience in the palace didn't teach him well enough who to have as a friend and who as an enemy. He's made many mistakes on his way, mistakes that helped the knight discover his plans and contacts.
Ever since, he'd like to say the palace became quite calm. Quiet even.
Well, except for the rather loud sounds he finds himself making every time he is with you alone. With his head thrown back and his hand in your hair, he has to bite back his groans. Despite knowing the throne room is empty, the thoughts of one of the knights passing by and hearing him through the closed door makes him do everything in his power to keep his voice down.
He's never thought of himself as someone loud. But then again, he also never thought of himself as someone worth finding love, someone who deserved all this attention you are giving him. Meeting you turned his entire world upside down in the best way, and he now finds himself learning something new about himself every day. For example, how desperately he wishes to have children, especially if it is with you.
“Fuck—” he curses, looking down at your lips wrapped around his cock. The simple scene has him twitching in your mouth and he has to fight himself not to come already. “Darling, you are going to make me lose my mind,” he groans, his free hand gripping the throne armrest. He watches you smirk, your tongue swirling over his tip. God dammit. He should have never taught you any of this. He should have just lived his life with eating you out instead of telling you there is a way for you to do the same. This is on him.
Even though he must say, you are doing an incredible job. You bat your eyelashes at him as you bob your head forward, making his eyes roll back. He didn't think becoming a King would mean having his cock sucked as he sits on the throne, but truth is, he cannot complain.
“I haven't bled yet,” you mumble when you pull back and the words echo in his ears. It is crazy just how much power you hold over him, how much your words can mess with his head. Because it is then, when he realizes what you mean that he finishes, covering your lips white. He watches your eyes widen, cursing under his breath again. That is far from how and where he wanted to cum.
“Can you repeat that?”
You laugh, licking your lips clean. Standing up from the floor and fixing your dress, you watch him with a sheepish smile. “It has been over a month since I bled last,” you repeat, your eyes falling to his cock to see if it does anything with him again. “I can't be sure, though.”
Your last words barely reach his ears as he reaches for your hand and pulls you onto him, his lips crashing with yours. You gasp from shock before melting into his touch, tilting your head as he kisses you. Seungcheol is convinced he will never get over how it feels to kiss you, how his head spins when he feels his lips on yours.
“I'll be a father,” a soft laugh full of disbelieve leaves his lips, making you smile. “And you'll be the mother of our kids. Our kids.” You nod, unable to control the excitement you feel when you look at him. Pressing your lips to his once again, you let him pull you onto his lap.
“Our kids,” you agree, loving how it sounds on your tongue. You share the same shock as he does, the realization just how far you have come settling in. It is unbelievable you get to spend the rest of your live with Seungcheol — the greatest man you have ever met — by your side. He makes everything better, easier. If it's with him, you truly believe fulfilling your duties isn't as unbearable as you once thought of them to be.
This was so enjoyable, I loved getting to know both families and it was just so sweet how soft he was for her. And her naïveté?! Like damn, thank goodness you have ultra gentleman Cheol to quite literally hold your hand through it 😅
────── you're tired of being princess peach: the perfect life, the perfect husband, the suffocating routine. for months you've been secretly fucking heeseung, the bowser: fake kidnappings that turn into real, filthy nights of rough bondage, his mouth devouring you, his cock claiming you while you pretend to resist.
➛ pairing: bowser! heeseung x princess peach! reader | ➛ genre: mario bros au, smut (mdni!!), i would say crack fic bc come on, cheating, rivals to lovers, pwp, secret relationship | #nowplaying: the sweet escape - gwen stefani | you right - doja cat | big girls don't cry - enhypen | the weekend - sza | bad guy - billie eilish | ➛ word count: 5.8k
➛ warnings: smut (mdni!!!), piv, unprotected sex, monster fucking, kidnapping roleplay, bondage, spanking, oral sex (m & f receiving), deepthroating, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation (public ish / voyeuristic), anal play, cuckolding, dom brat tamer! heeseung, infidelity, cheating (reader is married to mario loll), consensual dub-con (fake kipnapping roleplay), yandere behavior, mild pain play
➛ ronnie's notes: ok so i just wanted to write heeseung as bowser and make the reader absolutely rail him (or get railed by him whatever floats your boat) idk what else to say tbh but this is a 5k words drabble and not really proofread wrote that in 3 days but we ball..... enjoy i guess lmao
IT'S NOT EASY BEING PRINCESS PEACH. you've been rotting in this castle for months. your castle i mean — with the stained glass windows and the gardens that bloom and the marble floors. it's beautiful, but it's suffocating.
your dress is gorgeous, silk and lace and embroidery that took someone weeks to finish. but it weighs a ton, and the corset digs in just enough to remind you that looking the part isn't the same as wanting to play it. your heels scrape marble when you pace (which you do a lot, especially lately) until the sound gets so deep under your skin you want to scream.
your husband has been gone for a week. some mission in the mushroom forest, maybe, something about goombas. you stopped listening halfway through. the toads check on you every few hours like clockwork. bring tea you don't drink, ask if you need anything. you smile and say no and then they leave. they tried to save you the first few times. they don't anymore. and your husband — god, your husband probably thinks you're still waiting with your hands folded, hopeful, counting on him. but you stopped counting weeks ago.
and then you wait.
because heeseung always comes back. and he doesn't break down the door this time.
he just walks in, boots heavy on stone slowly like he's got all the time in the world. the chandeliers shake a little even though he's trying to be quiet — they always do when he's around, like the whole castle recognizes his presence and tenses up. you hear the clink of metal. he stops in the doorway of your oversized bedroom, with his hands in his pockets, dark hair falling into his eyes. looking at you like he's double checking he's got the right princess, the right tower, the right night.
you don't scream, damn you don't even flinch. you just sit up straighter on the edge of the bed, smooth your skirt once, and say calmly, almost bored:
"you're late."
heeseung grins, lazy and shameless.
"had to wait for your boyfriend to leave first," he says, stepping inside. the door clicks shut behind him but he doesn't lock it. "he's real chatty, you know that? i almost felt bad."
"you don't feel bad about anything."
"true." he walks closer slowly. the floor creaks under his weight and you feel it more than hear it. "but i could pretend, you know, for you."
you tilt your head slightly and let the crown sit crooked. a strand of hair falls across your face and you don't fix it. "the toads are gonna notice i'm gone soon," you say. not worried, just factual.
"good." he stops right in front of you now. close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to look at him. "that's the whole point, isn't it, princess?"
you raise an eyebrow. "remind me again why we're doing this?"
"because," heeseung says, voice dropping lower, rougher, "you man's gotta come save you. and you gotta be stolen. and i gotta be the bad guy." he leans down just slightly. "it's all very tragic."
"right." your lips twitch with almost a smile. "so tragic."
"heartbreaking, really."
"and the part where you tie me up and drag me out of here kicking and screaming?"
his grin sharpens, all teeth. "that's my favorite part, baby."
he doesn't answer right away. just reaches behind him and pulls out rope this time, thick, rough hemp. he lets it uncoil slowly in his hand, dragging across the floor with that low rasp that makes your stomach flip. his hands reach your hips, gripping, and then he turns you around, looping the rope once around your wrists, crossed behind you. his fingers brush your skin as he works.
"last time you used the chain." you muttered.
"last time i wasn't worried about evidence." he tugs the knot tighter. "gotta make it look like you fought back."
you tilt your head so you can see his face. "what if i don't fight?"
he pauses and looks at you with that dark, lazy amusement. "then we improvise." another loop, higher this time, binding your forearms together. "you can scream in the hallway. thrash a little. toads eat that shit up."
you flex your fingers and feel the rope pull. "you like this too much."
"maybe." he finishes the knot at the small of your back, then comes around to face you. crouches down so you're eye level. "but you're letting me. so."
you hold his gaze. "he's gonna see these," you say quietly.
heeseung tucks that loose strand behind your ear with the knuckle of his index finger first — slow drag, rough skin catching lightly on the shell of your ear before he switches to his thumb. it lingers there on your cheekbone, pressing just firm enough that you feel the callus from whatever weapons he swings when he’s not playing villain. "who fucking cares? tell him i was rough," he says, voice pitched low and close. "that you begged me to stop. cried a little maybe." his thumb slides down, traces the curve of your jaw, then hooks under your chin to tilt your face up higher. "and while he’s kissing it better you’ll be thinking about how i tied you up spread out on your own bed, skirt shoved to your waist, while he was out playing hero somewhere stupid."
your breath snags in your throat and he hears it. his eyes flick down to your mouth for half a second then back up. "you’re the worst," you whisper and it comes out shaky.
"yeah." he stands in one smooth motion, yanks the rope upward like it weighs nothing. he steadies you with a hand on your hop, fingers digging in deep enough to leave crescent marks through the silk “but you keep letting me come back right?” he adds.
he steps behind you then. both hands on your wrists now — rough palms sliding up your forearms, checking the rope. he tugs each coil tighter until the hemp bites red lines into your skin. his thumbs press into the pulse points at your inner wrists, feeling how fast your blood’s moving. then he leans in close — chest to your back, hips slotting against your ass — and reaches around to adjust the front of your dress where it’s slipping off one shoulder. his knuckles graze the swell of your breast on purpose as he pulls the fabric back up, just enough to tease the edge of your nipple through the corset.
“i’ll mark you real good tonight,” he murmurs against the side of your neck. hot breath and his teeth scraping once over your earlobe. "he’ll see these tomorrow and think you fought like hell.”
he steps back, grabs the chain from his belt. he drapes it over your shoulder slow — heavy links sliding across your collarbone, cool against flushed skin — then lets one end trail down between your breasts like a deliberate path. his fingers follow it for a second, brushing the valley there, pressing just hard enough you feel it in your nipples. "for effect," heeseung smirks. “and because you like the sound it makes when you move.”
you roll your eyes but the smile’s already there. "so what, you just carry me out screaming?"
"that’s the plan.” he hooks one arm under your knees, the other around your upper back, and lifts you like you’re nothing. the motion forces your thighs apart around his waist, rope pulling your arms tight behind you so your chest arches forward into him. your bound wrists dig into the small of your back; the angle makes your hips tilt up, cunt pressing right against the hard ridge of his belt buckle through your dress. he shifts you higher on purpose — one quick bounce — so the metal grinds against your clit for a split second. you choke on a sound that’s half gasp, half moan.
“you ready?” he asks, his voice wrecked already.
you lean in, lips brushing his ear. “make it convincing. he’s gotta hear it from the next kingdom over.”
he kicks the door open so hard the frame rattles. strides into the hallway, boots slamming marble in steady rhythm. you count two heartbeats and then scream loud and raw, the sound echoing off stone walls like you’re being torn apart. you thrash, your hips rolling against him more than fighting, thighs squeezing his sides, heels kicking once into his thigh. the rope creaks with every twist; the chain clinks against your chest. he doesn’t flinch, just clamps his arm tighter under your ass — fingers splaying wide, one slipping between your thighs from behind to press flat against your soaked cunt through the silk. he rubs once — slow, firm circle right over your clit — while he keeps walking.
“that’s it,” he mutters against your hair, so low no one else hears. “sell it, pretty. scream like i’m ruining you…”
you do, louder. wetter sounds slipping between your fake cries every time his fingers grind against you with his next step. and the whole castle hears the princess being stolen while the monster carries her out like she belongs to him.
heeseung doesn’t slow down until the castle gates are long behind you. the night air hits cold against your flushed skin as he crosses the bridge, then ducks into the shadowed path that leads straight to his domain — the dark, jagged spires of bowser’s keep. the drawbridge groans open without him even asking; the lava moat bubbles low and angry below.
inside it’s warmer and the stone walls pulse with heat from the torches and the underground fires. he carries you through echoing corridors, past chained goombas who don’t even glance up, until he hits the spiral staircase to the tallest tower. he shifts you roughly and flips you over his shoulder. your wrists still tied tight and your ass is up and your thigh is framing his neck.
the first step up the stairs jolts you. his shoulder digs into your stomach, forcing a real huff out of you. then his free hand comes down — hard, open palmed slap right across your bare ass cheek and the sound cracks through the stairwell. you yelp, legs kicking once on instinct.
"quiet down," he growls, but there’s a grin in it. another slap sharper, catching the sensitive underside where thigh meets ass. your cunt clenches hard around nothing; you feel the slick slide down your inner thigh. "here you don’t need to keep screaming for your husband anymore, princess." another slap and this one lingers, his palm stays pressed flat, fingers curling in to squeeze the stinging flesh. he spreads you a little with the grip, thumb brushing the edge of your dripping slit from behind. “no more lying about how wet you get when i take you.” his voice drops darker. “just you, spread out, begging the monster to fuck his pretty little traitor.”
you moan muffled against his back and he laughs mean. he keeps climbing, every few steps another slap, alternating cheeks, building the heat until your skin’s hot and throbbing, every smack sending fresh sparks straight to your clit.
by the time he reaches the top, your thighs are shaking. he kicks the heavy door open and it bangs against the wall and strides straight to the massive four poster bed in the center of the chamber with black sheets and red velvet hangings.
he doesn’t set you down gentle, he throws you. you land on your back with a bounce, wrists still bound behind you, forcing your shoulders to arch, tits pushed up against the tight corset. the dress is a mess — hiked to your hips, soaked silk clinging between your legs. he stands at the foot of the bed with his eyes raking over you slowly. heeseung's chest heaving a little from the stairs, belt already half undone.
"look at you," he says and his voice is rough and mocking. "princess peach, all tied up and dripping in my bed. what would your husband say if he saw his perfect wife like this? legs open, cunt leaking for the monster who just kidnapped her."
you try to close your thighs, more tease than resistance, but heeseung grabs your ankles, yanks them apart, your knees hooked over his elbows. the rope pulls tighter behind your back and you whimper. "don't even try," he warns you as he drops to his knees between your legs. "you're not going anywhere."
heeseung doesn't pull your dress up further, instead, he just ducks his head under the silk skirt, like it's a veil, his shoulder forcing your thighs wider. his hot breath hits your clit first, then his tongue, flat, with a slow drag from your entrance all the way up, tasting every inch of the mess you've made. he groans against you like hés starving. "fuck, this pussy tastes so good," he mutters into your cunt. "sweet and dripping, all f'me."
then he really dives in, his tongue pushing inside you, fucking you open while his nose grinds against your clit. you arch hard and he just grips your hips tighter, nails digging crescents into your ass to hold you down. he sucks your clit into his month, then releases it with a wet pop, only to lick broad stripes again. the sounds are loud, he's slurping and sucking and your own choked moans are mixing with the wet smack of his mouth.
his hands keep your thigh pinned wide, his thumb spreading your lips open so he can get deeper. "scream for real this time," he orders, his voice muffled against your pussy. he pulls back just enough to spit on your clit, then drives back in. "let the whole fucking tower hear hoe much you love getting eaten out by the bad guy."
your hips grind up into his mouth harder now, the rope pining your arms so tight behind your back, that every buck makes the hemp scrape fresh burns into your wrists, but you don't care. you chase it, thighs clamping around his head. "f-fuck heeseung, —" you gasp. "please don't stop—"
he pulls back just enough to make you whine, and he smirks from under the skirt. "who said you get to tell me what do do, princess?" his voice is mean and his fingers dig harder into your ass, bruising. "you're the one tied up, baby. the one cheating on her hero husband with my tongue buried in her cunt. shut up and take it."
you giggle, and kick your heel lightly into his back. "make me."
so he does. he dives back in rougher, his tongue flicking fast and relentless over your clit, two fingers shoving inside of you without warning, curling hard and pumping deep. his free hand slaps your inner thigh and then he holds it open wider. "that's right," he growls against your folds. "keep running that pretty mouth, see what it gets you."
you're responsive now — every lick pulls a sound out of you. moans turn into whimpers, your hips rolling messy and urgent. "harder— hee, please, fuck—" you're begging, thighs shaking harder around his ears. he sucks your clit between his teeth and you shatter. whole body seizing up, cunt clenching around his fingers as you cum hard. a raw cry rips out of your throat and you flood his mouth, your vision spotting white. he doesn't stop, just laps you through it, his tongue slow and filthy now, drinking every drop of you. your hips twitch and even though you're oversensitive you grind down anyway because it hurts so good.
when you finally slump back, he pulls out from under the skirt and stands up slowly, at the foot of the bed. his face was wrecked — his lips were red, his chin dripping, his eyes dark but still fixed on you like a prey. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand but his gaze doesn't leave yours. "look at the mess you've made," he says. "cumming all over the monster's face, while your husband is out there saving the day. how pathetic."
your bratty fire sparks back, so you bite your lip and shift on the bed, pushing yourself up to sitting, your knees together like you're trying to play innocent. "yeah? then why are you so hard?"
your eyes drop to the bulge straining his pants, and heeseung's jaw ticks. he steps closer and towers you from the edge of the bed. he grabs your chin hard, bruising, his fingers still slick with you, and forces your face up. "on your knees," he orders.
but you don't move, instead, you just stare up at him, defiant. "make me."
his grip tightens, he yanks you forward by the chin until you're sliding off the bed, your knees hitting the stone floor with a thud. you're so much smaller like this on your knees, looking up at his bigger frame, his boots plant wide on either side of your thighs, basically caging you in. "yeah, that's better," he mutters. his thumb smears your own wetness across your bottom lip. "brats like you belong down here anyway."
you lick if off slowly, eyes locked on his. "fuck you, heeseung."
"you will." and then he lets go of your chin, his hands moving to his belt, unbuckling it completely. he pulls the zipper down slowly and he shoves his pants open, pulls himself out — he's thick, hard, huge, veins pulsing under your gaze. you almost drool at the sight, pre cum beads at the tip already, and he strokes once, base to head, unhurried. "open," he says.
you make him wait a second longer just to be a brat. "what if he walks in right now?" you murmur, your lips almost brushing the tip of his cock. "sees me on my knees mouth full of his rival's cock?"
heeseung growls and grabs the back of your head, his fingers tangling hard in your hair, and pushes in without warning, filling your mouth deep. "then he would know what a cheating little slut his wife really is," he hisses. he holds you there for a second, feeling your throat adjusting to his size. "now suck this cock, princess."
you moan around him and he starts moving, your tongue swirling messy under his shaft, cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper. your spit slicks him up quickly, dripping down your chin onto your chest. he's thick enough it aches your jaw, but you push through, looking up at him the whole time. "that's it," he mutters, with his hips rocking forward. "choke on it. pretend it's his — but we both know you'd rather have mine." his free hand cups your jaw, thumb pressing into the bulge where he's filling you. "gonna cum down your throat and send you back to him with my taste still on your tongue."
you hum in agreement and suck harder, heeseung's grip tightens on your hair, and he rocks forward letting you feel every thick inch sliding deeper, until the tip of his cock bumps the back of your throat. "relax that pretty mouth," he mutters. "you're gonna take it all princes, you know how, don't you?"
so you try, your throat working, but when he pushes the last inch in, your eyes water instantly. your nose is pressed to his pelvis and you make a muffled wet sound around him, half protest and half moan. he groans with his hips twitching forward. "fuck, that's it — feel how deep i am?" he holds you there a second longer than you can handle, feeling your throat squeezing him. he pulls back just enough for you to drag in a shaky breath through your nose before sliding back in, slower this time.
"look up at me," he orders. so you do, and your lashes are wet, tears clinging, but you blink up at him anyway. "good girl. your husband is never gonna get this version of his princess, is he?"
you shake your head and whine around his cock, and then he starts fucking your mouth for real. every thrust bumps the back of your throat making your gag reflex flutter. spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth and drips down onto your chest. "fuck, you're taking it so well." your eyes are rolling back a little when he grinds in deep and holds, but then he speeds up, chasing it. "gonna cum—" he warns. "gonna fill that mouth and you're gonna swallow every drop, you hear me princess?"
you moan in agreement and he loses it, his hips stuttering, his cock pulsing thick on your throat as he comes hard. you swallow reflexively, throat working around him, milking every last bit. when he's done, he doesn't pull out gentle, he yanks your head back by the hair, his cock slipping free with a wet pop. strings of spit and cum connect your lips to the tip for a second.
you gasp, coughing once, your chest heavy. "up," he snaps. his hand is still fisted in your hair and he hauls you up to your feet. your legs shake, your knees weak from kneeling so long but he doesn't care. he spins you around fast, shoves your face down onto the bed. your bound arms twist awkwardly under you; cheek pressed to the sheets, your ass up, dress still bunched around your waist.
he kicks your thighs wider apart. one hand plants between your shoulder blades, pinning you down hard. the other grips your hip. you whimper whiny, your hips rocking back instinctively. "heeseung — please —"
"please what?" he mocks. then he leans over you, his chest to your back, his cock still hard and sliding between your folds. he teases your entrance without pushing in. "please fuck your cheating cunt? please make you forget your fucking husband exists?"
"yes—" you whine, voice breaking. "please, just — i need it, i need you—"
he laughs and slams in in one brutal thrust, bottoming out so deep your breath punches out of you. the stretch burns so good and you're still sensitive from cumming earlier, walls fluttering around his cock. "fuck you're tight," he grits out and starts moving roughly in a punishing rhythm. hips snapping hard enough the bed frame creaks. every thrust jolts you forward, face smushing into the sheets. "taking me so good even after i fucked your throat raw— greedy little thing."
you moan into the mattress pushing back to meet him as best you can with your arms tied. “harder — please, heeseung—”
he slaps your ass once then grips both hips, yanking you back onto him with every stroke. “you want it harder princess?” his voice was strained. “you just take it. take it and think about how you’re gonna crawl back to him tomorrow with my cum leaking out of you.”
your whines turn higher, needier. “gonna — gonna feel you all day—”
"damn right you will." he angles deeper and hits that spot that makes your toes curl. one hand slides up and wraps around the rope binding your wrists and he uses it like a handle, pulling your shoulders back, arching you harder. "scream for me again, let the whole fucking castle know who owns this pussy."
you do, while he fucks you rough and relentless, claiming every inch like he's marking territory your husband will never touch again. heeseung's hips snap harder now, faster, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room like a filthy rhythm. your whines turn desperate, high pitched, every thrust punching the air out of your lungs. "f-fuck — too deep, hee —" you gasp.
he laughs darkly and breathless, one hand sliding up your sweat slick back to fist your hair again. "to deep? you're fucking soaked, princess, dripping down my balls." his voice is wrecked and mean, his hips grinding in deep circles. "bet you never cum this hard on his tiny dick. that's why you keep letting me steal you, huh? you need a real monster cock to stretch this cheating pussy?"
you're right on the edge — walls fluttering tight around him, clit throbbing from the friction every time his hips slam. "heeseung — i'm gonna — please"
that's when the door bursts open and slams against the wall with a crack. in waddles this short, stocky guy, his red hat crooked, his mustache twitching, overalls dirt streaked from whatever dumb quest he was on. his eyes go wide, his face flushing redder than his shirt as he freezes in the doorway. the little gloves on his hands clench into fists but he doesn't move. he just stands there, staring at the scene: you face down on the bed, ass up, bound arms pinned, your dress ruined and shoved to your waist while heeseung fucks you from behind.
heeseung doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down. if anything he goes even harder, his thrusts turning brutal, cock slamming so deep you feel it in your guts, and the obscene squelch of your cunt taking him deep fills the silence in the room. he glances over at the intruder, smirks wide and feral and then he turns back to you like the guy's not even there.
"oh look," he drawls, voice loud and mocking. "your little hero showed up early, probably thought he was gonna rescue his perfect princess." he yanks your hair back harder, forcing your head up so you're looking right at the door, right at him. tears streak your cheeks from the overstimulation and you bite your lip, but a moan slips out anyway, raw and needy. "tell him how good it feels, baby, come on. tell him you're creaming all over my cock instead of waiting for his pathetic ass."
your husband stammers something high pitched italian accented gibberish, his face twisting in horror and humiliation. his eyes dark from your flushed wrecked expression to where heeseung's thick cock disappears into you, slick and shining, his balls slapping your clit with every rough pound. your husband takes a step forward, then stops, his hands shaking like he doesn't even know what to do.
you try to speak, but heeseung cuts you off with a hard slap on your ass. your cunt clenching hard around him from the sting, and you whimper, your hips pushing back on instinct. "heeseung, f-fuck—"
"don't lie to him now baby," heeseung growls, leaning over closer, chest to your back, his mouth hot against your ear. "tell your husband the truth, tell him how you beg me to tie you up and fuck you raw every time. how his wife's pussy milks my cock." he punctuates each word with a deep thrust — in, out, in — making your tits bounce under the corset.
your husband's face crumples and he backs up a step, muttering something and then he spins on his heels and bolts out the door, slamming it shut behind him so hard the torches flicker. heeseung bursts out laughing and immediately pick up the pace, his hips pistoning faster now. "poor little guy," he mocks, chuckling under his breath.
his hand slides down from your hip, his fingers slick with your arousal, and without warning he presses one thick digit against your asshole, slowly at first, circling the tight rim before pushing in knuckle deep in one smooth slide. you jolt forward with a chocked whine, whole body clenching around both his cock and digit. the stretch burns, making everything feel even filthier.
"fuck you just squeezed me so tight," heeseung groans against your ear, finger curling inside you in slow, teasing pumps matching the brutal rhythm of his thrusts. "you like that, huh? my finger in your ass while i fuck this cheating pussy raw?"
you can't form words, just moans and whimpers, face pressed into the sheets now, drool pooling under your cheek. your hips push back chasing both sensations and heeseung laughs again, darker this time and twists his finger deeper. "answer me, princess," he demands. "tell me you love being stuffed full like a dirty little slut while your husband's probably crying somewhere."
"y-yes—" you sob, voice wrecked. "fuck yes — i love it, hee, please don't stop—"
"that's my girl," he hisses, stretching you wider with his finger while his cock pound relentless. "now cum for me, princess, cum hard on this cock."
and you do instantly, walls clamping down like a vice, your whole body shaking as the orgasm rips through you. "heeseung — fuck yes—" you sob, your voice whiny, gushing wet around him in hot pulses. he groans loud and follow right after, burying deep with one last brutal thrust. his cock throbbing, spilling thick ropes of cum inside you, filling you up until it leaks out around him, dripping down your thighs in warm, sticky rails.
heeseung collapses over you for a second, his chest heaving against your back, his cock still twitching inside you as the last pulses fade. his breath fans hot across your shoulder before he finally exhales. he pulls out carefully, watching the thick white spill out of you the second he bottoms out. it drips slow down your thighs, mixing with your own slick. he groans low at the sight, his thumb brushing once over your asshole down your swollen folds just to spread it wider, like he's admiring his work.
"that's my good girl," heeseung murmurs, the mean edge softening. he flips you over gentle, his hands under your shoulders, easing you onto your back so the rope doesn't dig in worse. your arms ache when they finally relax forward and he notices, and his fingers work the knots loose one by one, careful not to yank, rubbing slow circles over the red welts left behind. "fuck look at theses marks," he says. "gonna bruise so pretty tomorrow."
you shiver at the thought. he leans down and presses a slow open mouthed kiss to each wrist, his tongue flicking over the rope burns like he's soothing them and claiming them at the same time. then he hits back on his heels, his eyes raking over the rest of you: corset still half laced, dress a crumpled ruin around your waist, crown long gone somewhere on the floor.
"c'mere," he says, sliding his arms under your knees and back. he lift you like you weigh nothing, cradling you against his chest. your head lolls onto his shoulder, you're boneless and wrecked and still leaking him down your thighs. he carries you across the room, past the heavy velvet curtains into the attached bath chamber.
the tub's massive, black marble, filled and steaming with hot water that smells of something herbal like he planned this part too. he stops at the edge, still holding you, and sets you down on your feet gently, steadying you with his hands on your hips when your legs wobble. "easy there. let's get this off," he murmurs, his fingers finding the laces of your corset, working them loose one by one, slowly pulling out the silk loosen around your ribs. you breathe deeper, and then he peels the ruined dress down, no rush and no roughness. he strips down every last layer gently until you're completely bare.
he stands again, his eyes dark but soft as he takes you in. he doesn't say anything filthy this time, just leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth, soft. he scoops you back and lowers you into the sub carefully. the hot water stings the fresh mark on your wrists and the raw skins of your ask for a moment, then melts into soothing warmth that makes your whole body loosen.
heeseung strips himself next, armor pieces first, his leather straps undone, shirt tugged over his head in one smooth motion, revealing the hard lines on his chest, the faint scars that look like old battle marks. pants down next, kicked off with his boots, and he's bare in seconds, his cock still semi hard, his thighs thick and his skin flushed from everything you just did.
he slides in behind you after, water sloshing over the rim. his long legs bracketing yours, chest to your back, pulling you in until you're resting against him completely. his arms come around you — one hand splayed low on your stomach, the other dipping under the surface to rest between your thighs, possessive but careful.
"relax baby," he murmurs against your ear softly. "let me clean you up, mhm?" he reaches for a cloth on the edge and dips it, squeezes warm water over your shoulders. he watches it run down your collarbone, between your tits and his hand follows, soapy now, sliding over your skin in long strokes. his hands roam over down your arms, careful over the rope marks. across your stomach, and then, between your thighs.
you tense when his fingers brush your cunt still sensitive and swollen but he shushes you. "easy, princess, i'm just washing you." but his touch lingers. two fingers part your folds gently, rinsing away the mess he left, thumb grazing your clit in slow barely there circles. you whimper, hips twitching up into his hand on instinct.
he chuckles low, his breath hot on your neck. "still needy huh? after all that?" he presses a kiss to the side of your throat, then another lower, teeth grazing your pulse. "good, means you're mine."
his hand keeps moving, washing and teasing, never quite enough to make you cum again but enough to keep you trembling. the other hand slides up to your neck, thumb under your jaw, tilting your head back so he can kiss you properly. he kisses you slowly and deeply, his tongue sliding against yours like he's tasting the last of himself on you.
when he pulls back, water dripping from his hair onto your shoulder, his voice drops quieter, rougher. "i want you to be my princess now," he says, his voice raw. "for real this time. not the fake kidnapping bullshit, just… you. here with me, no more going back to him."
you swallow, his fingers are still between your legs, but not moving now, just resting there. "say it baby," he whispers, lips brushing your ear. "say you're mine, please."
your breath hitches. you turn your head just enough to meet his eyes. "i'm yours, heeseung," you murmur, your voice small but sure.
heeseung exhales hard through his nose and kisses you again, harder this time, and his hand finally moves. his fingers slipping inside you slow, curling gentle but deep, his thumb pressing firm on your clit. "good job baby," he growls against your mouth. "now cum for me one more time, mhm?"
so you do — arching back against him, water sloshing over the edge, moaning soft and broken into his kiss while his fingers work you open and claim you all over again.
your husband will never know you spent the whole night tied up and desperate under the guy he thinks is his enemy. at least, it's not that hard being princess peach anymore.
🔮 preview. “When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
tw/cw. mentions of past relationship abuse/trauma/cheating, alcohol, bar fights, Cheol gets grazed with a knife, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, blow job, pussy eating, fingering, pleasure dom!Cheol, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, size kink/manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, groping, Cheol is a big muscled tattooed man, creampie, birthday sex, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k
🍭 aus. tattoo/motorcycle au, nurse!reader, soulmates, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. The tarot deck used in the prologue is ‘The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Guide Deck’ by Kim Krans. I had so much fun exploring a more spiritual-themed plot, the idea of soulmates and spirit guides and such :)
Prologue
It’s been six months since your breakup. Six months of self-work and healing practices. Six months of connecting with your spirit guides, hoping you can work through this dark period of your life and come out the other side.
You’ve just gotten off a long shift at the hospital, where you work as an emergency room nurse. Cleaning up other people’s messes makes you feel a little more whole every day, it shows you that while your wounds might be deeper than the skin, you have the resources to fix things that seem unfixable.
After a shower, you slump onto your couch, your hands reaching for one of your tarot decks. It’s as if you can feel the energy radiating off your spirit animal cards, and you remove them carefully from the box, holding them close to your chest.
“Spirit,” you say softly. “I think I’m finally ready to try dating again. But I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll end up in the same situation as last time, finding a man who needs to be fixed- I know my pattern is finding broken men, and I’m done with that. I need guidance. I need some sort of sign that will show up when I meet the right person.”
Part of your healing journey was writing down what traits you’d want in a partner. You’d made a list that included, ‘kind, smart, patient, stable, loyal, and protective,’ and you’d folded to your own physical tastes by writing ‘tattoos’ as well. You can’t help it, you like the way art looks on skin, and although all the tatted bad boys you’ve dated in the past have been assholes, you’re holding onto a hope that you can find a good man with tattoos. You know they’re out there, you just have to find one.
“Spirit, can you help me pull a card, and whatever animal is on that card could be a tattoo that my future significant other would have?” you ask. “Please don’t choose a lion or a wolf or something super common- I want an animal that is a little more unique, something that couldn’t just be coincidence… but, I mean, if my soulmate is meant to have a wolf then I guess I can make that work.”
You hate questioning your guides, hate putting boundaries on them. If your soulmate has a stupid, overdone tattoo like every other man with ink, then so be it.
Taking a deep breath, you begin to shuffle your spirit animal deck.
You’re not being too fast with your shuffle, you prefer to sit for a long time and wait for cards to pop out rather than force a reading with erratic motions. Focusing on your breathing, and your ask from the spirit, you wait patiently.
Soon, a card pops out, landing on the coffee table in front of you.
An Elk looks up at you, and you take a moment to assess the card before finding the guide book.
You flip to the Earth section, finding the Elk easily. There are a few keywords at the top of the reading, they say ‘Stable, resilient, headstrong, the father.’
Stable is a word you’d written into your boyfriend manifestation notes, and you consider that for a moment before reading further.
“The great Elk represents the Earth element in its masculine form. This means it provides underlying support and stability amidst life’s many changes. An Elk personality is fully established in themselves and knows their core values. They become known and respected for acting in ways that uphold those values. Sometimes the Elk’s ego can become inflated, but for the most part, they make damn good fathers, mothers, lovers, and friends. The world needs more elk energy.”
You think about the type of man who could be stable, whether that’s financially or emotionally. You’re hoping to find a man as set and in love with his job as you are- the kind of man you could build a future with. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about kids, and the note that Elk personalities make good fathers and lovers makes the feeling of hope stir within you.
However, the Elk - like the Lion and the Wolf - is a pretty common tattoo.
“I’m wondering if I should ask for a second card,” you tell your guides. “This deck has numerous animals connected to zodiac signs. Fish for Pisces, Scorpion for Scorpio… I know not all zodiacs have an animal correlated to them, so I won’t use this as a defining factor, but… maybe to make things even a little more specific, could you help me pull a card to represent the zodiac sign for my future Elk tattooed boyfriend?”
This feels like a lot. And you’re aware that there are only a few cards in this large deck that will actually connect to the zodiac, so you prepare yourself for a dud card.
You begin to shuffle, and this time, a card pops out even faster than the first. It’s face down on your coffee table, and you take a breath, willing this to be a sign.
When you flip the card, you find a lion staring up at you.
The lion is correlated with the Leo zodiac, and you swallow thickly, thinking about the traits generally connected to Leos. The words that come to mind are ‘confident, loyal, ambitious, and protective,’ two of which are traits you’d manifested.
You find your guidebook again, reading the top line of traits: “Patient, regal, a complete master.”
“The Lion is a master of the fire element and the living mascot of self-transformation. A lion personality dedicates their life to personal and spiritual growth. This dedication inspires some and intimidates others, therefore the Lion is respected by all but known intimately by few. Some mistake the Lion as hard to access or aloof, yet those with a keener eye know better. Lions are observant, stealth, and precise in their words and actions. They do not waste energy or resources. This card reminds us that self-mastery is available to all, no matter where our quest begins.”
You consider your reading as you put your deck away and head to bed. A Leo man with an Elk tattoo, someone who is patient, stable, headstrong, loyal, and maybe a little egotistical, but hopefully not in any ways that would be damaging to you like your narcissist of an ex-boyfriend.
You’re prepared to not find a man who fits this bill, but you feel a little better about narrowing down the traits you’re attracted to. Some people don’t believe in tarot, and while you can understand that, this reading has spoken to you in a way that you can’t quite explain.
There’s no timeline to the reading, and you won’t be restricting yourself waiting for a man with an Elk tattoo to sweep you off your feet, but it feels a little easier having some parameters.
When you fall asleep, you dream of a large man standing in shadows, Elk-like antlers protruding from his head.
One:
“Tell me again how you found out about this place?” you sigh, getting out of your best friend’s car to stare at the tattoo studio.
“God, I’ve told you a hundred times,” Sunmin rolls her eyes. “One of my sister’s boyfriend’s cousins’s boyfriends work here.”
“I’m going to need you to say that slower.”
“My sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, his cousin is dating one of the artists here, and he says they’re all super hot. And I figured, since your tarot cards told you a few months ago that you’ll find some dude with an elk, a tattoo shop is a good place to look for him.”
“Okay, but please don’t bring up the actual tarot,” you plead. “People judge me for that shit all the time.”
“My lips are sealed but my eyes will be wide open,” she grins.
The two of you enter the tattoo shop, and the air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from the hot summer outside. Your friend chats with the receptionist about her consultation with an artist named Vernon, and soon the two of you are being escorted deeper into the studio.
It’s an open plan layout, with small sections for each artist. Only one man is currently tattooing someone, and you suppose that since it’s the morning, they likely get busier as the day goes on.
There’s a large man who approaches you and your friend as you sit in Vernon’s section. “Hi! You must be Vernon’s ten o’clock consultation! I’m Mingyu. Vernon’s just chatting with our boss in the back, but he’ll be out pretty quick.”
“Hi, I’m Sunmin and this is y/n,” your friend introduces you. “We have no problem waiting.”
“Cool. I don’t have a client for a while, I can keep you guys company while you wait for Vernon if you’d like.”
“We’d love that,” Sunmin beams.
“How did you guys hear about us?” Mingyu asks, taking a seat on the tattoo artist chair.
“My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin is dating one of the guys who work here,” Sunmin explains.
“Is your sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan?”
You’re shocked the man was able to follow what Sunmin just said.
“Yup! That’s him!” Sunmin confirms.
“Love that guy,” Mingyu grins. “Yeah, I’m dating his cousin. He told me he’d tell others about the shop but I didn’t think he’d actually follow through with it.”
“Well, here he is, following through,” Sunmin laughs.
“So is this tattoo consult for you?”
Sunmin nods. “Yup! I’ve always liked ink, got a few small pieces, but I wanted something bigger for my thigh.”
“How about you?” Mingyu asks. “Any future tattoo plans?”
“Not at the moment,” you respond, gaze shifting to a door that leads to the office in the back. Two men have come out, they’re both quite handsome, dressed in oversized hoodies that obscure any ink on their torsos.
“I’ve actually been looking at elk tattoos,” Sunmin lies, “know anyone with anything like that?”
Mingyu opens his mouth to respond, but one of the men from the back is already approaching. “Hi, are you Sunmin?” he asks.
“That’s me,” your best friend beams.
“I’m Vernon,” the soft looking man smiles. Mingyu gets out of his seat, bidding a quick farewell before going back to his own section. As Vernon and Sunmin begin to talk about her tattoo plans, you find your eyes shifting to the man who must be the boss as he walks over to inspect the tattoo taking place.
He’s got a nice build, and you can see the outline of strong shoulders even from under his large black hoodie. He rolls up the sleeves, and you can see he’s heavily inked, but from a distance, you can’t make out any elk-like marks.
Sunmin had done her best to try to ask Mingyu about a tattoo fitting what your tarot had told you to watch out for, but you suppose you shouldn’t be shocked that your soulmate isn’t in the first shop you’ve gone into.
You relax against your chair, listening to Sunmin and Vernon talk.
You’ll do your best to find your Elk inked Leo, but you suppose you can’t rush the process.
Two:
You’re at a bar with friends when you hear a commotion just outside. As the designated driver of the night, you haven’t touched any drinks, and although it might not be anything serious, your emergency room nurse instincts kick in, drawing you to the possible danger as you quickly make your way to the front of the bar.
You catch the tail end of what’s happening, one bouncer chasing after some guy who’s booking it down the street, and another man being held back by a second security guard.
The man being held back looks enraged, and he manages to break out of the bouncers grasp- which is when you see blood on the back of his white shirt.
“Fuck that guy,” the injured man snarles, and when he turns, you catch a glimpse of his profile.
It’s the man from the tattoo parlour, the one you assumed was the boss.
While he looks extremely pissed off, you can’t help but approach. “Excuse me,” you say quietly, grabbing his attention. “You’re bleeding.”
“Am I?” He looks over his shoulder, grabbing at his shirt where the blood is. “Fuck, he must have grazed me.”
Must have grazed him… with a knife?
“I’m uh… I’m an ER nurse, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask.
“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” the bouncer tells you, darting back into the bar.
“I’m fine,” the tattooed man tells you.
“Then there’s no harm in me taking a look to confirm that.” You try to smile softly at him.
The man looks at you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“I think I was at your parlour last week, my friend had a consult,” you explain. “I’m y/n.”
He looks you up and down. “Seungcheol.”
You can see the anger and tension dissipating from his shoulders.
“Why don’t you take a seat on the curb and I’ll look at your shoulder?” you suggest.
Seungcheol sighs, but does as he’s told. He sits down, grabbing at the back of his shirt. You catch him wince as he tugs the bloodied fabric off, and you’re shocked at what’s revealed.
It’s not the slight gash that makes you take a step back, it’s the Elk head tattoo on the center of his spine, with large antlers tangling up toward the back of his neck.
“Is it that bad?’ Seungcheol asks, looking over his shoulder at you again.
“No, it’s not that.” You do your best to compose yourself, kneeling down to look at the wound, although your eyes keep going back to the Elk.
The bouncer returns with the first aid kit, and Seungcheol sits there quietly while you clean the wound. “You’re right that it was a graze, but I still think stitches would be a good idea,” you tell him.
“I’m not going to the hospital,” Seungheol responds while you press gauze to the wound, bandaging him up with medical tape.
“Why not?”
“I just don’t like hospitals,” the beefy tattooed man says simply.
You release a sigh. “Listen, I’m going to give you my number, and if there’s any sign of infection, call me, okay?”
“You said you're an emergency room nurse, right?” he asks, standing up when you finish with his shoulder.
“Uh huh.” Words evade you as you look at his chiseled chest, and you do your best not to be too obvious at the way you’re gawking at him.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did to piss off the dude with the knife?”
“It’s not important,” you respond quickly. “You identified it as a knife wound, and that’s all I needed to know.”
“I was in the emergency room one time, got stabbed by some kid outside a strip club, the nurses kept pestering me about the details. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like hospitals,” Seungcheol explains.
“Well, your business is your business,” you tell him. “All I care about is that your wound doesn’t get infected, and you take care of it if you’re not getting stitches.”
Seungcheol’s gaze feels hot as he stares at you, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Here. For your number.”
Your fingers are shaky as you type in your digits before handing it back to him, and you can’t help but notice the way your hands briefly touch.
“I need a drink,” Seungcheol says. “You coming back inside? I’ll buy you something, as a thank you for not pestering me.”
“No thanks is necessary,” you try to assure him, but Seungcheol is already reaching for your hand.
“Don’t fight this,” he tells you. “Let me say thank you in the way that I know how.”
You allow the big burly man to guide you back into the bar. He orders himself a shot of tequila, then turns to you expectantly.
“Uh, can I get an iced tea?” you ask.
“Not drinking?”
“I’m the designated driver tonight,” you explain. “My friends are over there-” you turn and catch your whole table of friends staring at you.
Seungcheol follows your gaze and smirks, offering your friends a small wave. “Okay, so you're a stay in your lane ER nurse, and you’re a designated driver.”
“That sums it up I guess,” you laugh.
“She’ll get an iced tea,” Seungcheol tells the bartender.
You like that he’s not pushing you. Some people pressure you to drink when you’re out, but you like to have your head screwed on straight on your shoulders. You never know when an emergency is going to happen, and your soul calling is helping people. On top of that, it’s nearly midnight, and you’ve got a shift in five hours that you need to be sober for.
“I’m trying to find red flags with you, you know?” Seungcheol says nonchalantly. “But so far, I’m not seeing any.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t have any?” you suggest.
“I’ve been told I’m a walking red flag,” Seungcheol muses.
“Tattoos can be deceiving,” you point out, although, studies do show that people with trauma are more likely to be inked- all your ex’s have had tattoos, and they’ve all had dark pasts. You can’t help you type, and staring at the man with the elk on his back, you wonder if this is going to be just another repetition.
Your drinks are set in front of you and you watch Seungcheol down his tequila shot. He shakes his head out a little at the taste, and you appreciate the way his dark curls look with the motion.
“Anyways, you’re here with friends, I won’t keep you,” he sighs.
“Thanks for the iced tea,” you smile softly.
“Don’t mention it,” Seungcheol nods.
You mirror the movement, grabbing your drink and heading back to your table.
The moment you’re seated, all your friends erupt into chatter.
“Who was that?!” one asks.
“He was hot!” another friend notes.
“Wasn’t that the dude from the tattoo shop?” Sunmin questions, looking after Seungcheol. “Is he… bleeding?”
“Yeah, it’s the guy from the parlour,” you sigh. “His name is Seungcheol, and yes, someone tried to stab him outside.”
“Jesus!” Sunmin’s eyes widen. “But… he bought you a drink?”
“I just cleaned the wound and bandaged it,” you explain. “He insisted on getting me a drink.”
“Well… that’s nice, isn’t it?” one of your friends says thoughtfully.
“I guess.” It’s clear you don’t want to talk about this further, and your friends quickly go back to discussing something else, but you inch closer to Sunmin. “He has a tattoo.”
“He has a lot of tattoos,” she laughs.
“No, he has like… this big elk head and antlers on his back.”
“What?!”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warn her, not wanting her to raise her voice too loud so your other friends hear. You’re quite private about your spiritual leanings. Being a woman of science, and ER nurse no less, sometimes it feels like believing in fate isn’t something that works well with your job.
“We’re talking about this later,” Sunmin tells you.
“Yeah.”
You sit back, thinking about it.
Obviously your interaction with Seungcheol was short. He came off as a bit of a hot head, perhaps you’d even use the word brash- there was certainly a level of ego that radiated off of him as well, but, at the same time, he’s one of the most handsome tattooed men you’ve ever met.
You’d asked your guides for a sign, and tonight, the Elk had bared its antlered head.
Now it’s up to you to decide if you trust in fate, or if this is all just a coincidence.
Three:
You’re about seven hours into your eight hour shift. Having started at five am, after being a designated driver and getting your friends home at three, you’re quite tired. Things were very busy for a while in the emergency room, but for whatever reason now that it’s noon, things have seemed to calm down a little.
You’re just sitting in the nurse station with your coworker Joshua when your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s an unknown number, and at first, you’re not sure if you should answer it.
Against your better judgement, you bring your phone to your ear, “Hello?”
“Is this the stay in your lane ER nurse who’s also the designated driver?”
You let out a sigh. “Y/N.”
“Yeah, you.”
“Hi, Seungcheol.”
“Hi. So, I tried to stitch up the wound when I got home, and I’m not sure if I did a good job.”
“You tried to stitch it up?” you ask, already exasperated. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it at the bar?”
“I just didn’t,” he says simply.
“Send me a pic of the stitches,” you instruct.
“One sec.”
You wait patiently, and Joshua catches your eyes. ‘What’s happening?’ he mouths.
You quickly mute your call. “Some guy I helped at the bar last night got grazed by a knife, he didn’t want stitches, but decided to try to stitch himself up this morning.”
“What the fuck?” Joshua laughs.
“Okay, sent.” Seungcheol’s voice makes you hit the unmute button, and you open your messages to see the picture.
Joshua rolls closer, staring at your phone. While Seungcheol’s broad muscular back is a bit of a distraction, the stitch up job on the wound is sloppy, and draws most of your attention.
“Seungcheol,” you sigh. “I’m going to say this in the nicest possible way. You might be a tattoo artist, but your stitching skills are sub par at best.”
The line is quiet for a moment, then you hear a chuckle. “Someone’s in a grouchy mood.”
Joshua’s eyes widen, and he looks at you for your response.
“You would be too if you spent all yesterday sleeping, woke up to be a designated driver for your friends, got home at three and had to be at work for five.”
“Oh… are you at work now?”
“Uh huh.”
“I shouldn’t bother you then,” Seungcheol says quickly.
“It’s no bother,” you assure him. “Look, I’m off in an hour. I’ll swing by to your shop to check out the stitching. Most stitches should be sewn within six to eight hours, we’re bordering on twelve- I just want to make sure there’s no infection.”
“You should just go home after work.”
“You should listen to your ER nurse and let her help you,” you retort, too tired to argue with him over this.
Seungcheol makes a groaning sound. “Fine.”
“See you in an hour.”
You hang up the phone and Joshua looks you up and down. “What’s his deal?”
“Honestly,” you sigh, “I couldn’t tell ya.”
Four:
You and Joshua often have the same shifts, and you carpool together to feel more green, so it’s Joshua who drives you to the tattoo parlour when you’re done work.
Seungcheol is waiting outside, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he eyes Joshua as the both of you get out of the car.
“Hey,” Seungcheol says as you approach, “who’s this?”
“My coworker, Joshua,” you introduce them, and Joshua has the decency to hold out a hand.
You hold your breath, releasing it when Seungcheol gives him a customary curt handshake.
“He’s your ride?” Seungcheol asks.
“Uh huh, is that a problem?”
“I just don’t feel comfortable having him around while you check out my shoulder, even if he does work with you” Seungcheol explains. “Listen, I’ve got a motorcycle and an extra helmet in the shop, how about I take you home after this?”
Both men look at you, and for a moment, you feel flustered and put on the spot.
You’ve never been on a bike before- but fuck it, you’re too tired to work through Seungcheol’s weird alpha behavior and territorial mentality about you having a male coworker with you.
“That works,” you agree. “Thanks for the ride, Josh.”
“Text me when you’re home,” he warns, pulling you in for a hug.
You can practically feel Seungcheol staring daggers at the two of you when Joshua pulls away and heads back to his car.
Seungcheol’s demeanor is a bit icy as he leads you into the shop. You notice Vernon and Mingyu. Mingyu even says a loud “Hi, y/n!” and you nod politely as Seungcheol takes you into the back office, closing the door.
“So, is that dude your boyfriend?” he asks, heading to the first aid kit already open on his desk.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone right now. My last ex, uh… he did a number on me.”
“Yeah?” Seungcheol takes off his shirt while you grab medical gloves to pull on. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I’m not sure what there is to say,” you admit with a sad laugh.
“Then you don’t have to say anything,” he decides.
“How about you?” you ask, softly prompting him to turn away from you on his spinny chair so you can assess the wound, gently removing the gauze.
“What about me?” he counters.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Nope.” He’s quiet for a moment. “My ex was a bit of a shit show too.”
“Well I guess we’re kindred in that at least,” you smile, leaning close to get a better look at his shoulder.
Seungcheol shivers slightly, and you think your breath on his throat must have set him off a little, but he stays silent. You notice his hands balling into fists on his thighs.
“I think your stitching can stay, but I’m going to clean your wound again and rebandage it.”
“Sounds good,” Seungcheol responds gruffly.
“While I’m doing this, do you mind if I ask about your tattoo? This big Elk?” You gently graze your surgical gloved pinky finger down his spine, and Seungcheol shivers again.
“Jesus, don’t do that,” he snaps.
“Sorry. It’s a pretty tattoo, I couldn’t help myself.” Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and you notice Seungcheol’s ears turning red too.
“I uh,” he swallows thickly. “My grandma was a tarot reader. She was always doing these readings, very connected to the Earth and shit. She used to tell me I had an Elk soul, like her. Something about spiritual guidance, protection, kindred souls or some shit. I’m not super into that stuff, but when she died, I kept having these stupid Elk dreams. Sort of felt like she was trying to communicate with me- if you believe in that sort of thing. Anyways, I figured if I got the tattoo, I’d feel closer to her, like she has my back.”
This is not the tattoo explanation you’d ever considered would come from a man like Seungcheol, and it takes you a few moments to register it and decide on a response.
“It sounds like you were very close with your grandma, I’m sorry that she passed.”
“It’s okay,” Seungcheol shrugs it off. “Shit happens.”
And just like that, he’s closing up again.
You wonder if you should tell him about your tarot connections, but you don’t want to sound like some crazy chick if you mention your spirit guides pointing you toward an Elk. Instead, you bite your tongue as you finish up his wound.
“All done,” you announce.
Seungcheol doesn’t say anything as he stands up and puts on his shirt. “What’s your address?” he asks, pulling out his phone.
You show him on the maps where you live. “Are you sure you want to give me a ride? Don’t you have… clients?”
“I can get you home and be back in time for my next appointment,” he assures you. “Think of this as another way of saying thank you for fixing me up.”
So far, he’s shown two love languages. He’s bought you a drink, and now he’s doing an act of service. He’d seemed hesitant on touch today, unlike last night when he’d been drinking, and you wonder what his history in relationships is like.
It sounds like you’ve both had shitty past experiences.
You just want to figure him out.
“Have you been on a bike before?” Seungcheol asks, grabbing a small black fullface helmet off a shelf of motorcycle memorabilia.
“No.”
“Are you scared?”
“More tired than anything else,” you admit with a laugh.
“Well, my Harley has a sissy bar, so you’ll be okay.”
You don’t even know what a sissy bar is, but you follow Seungcheol out to his bike anyways.
“Here, we can put your stuff in my saddlebag,” he explains, opening a large additional compartment near the back tire of his bike. “I don’t always ride with these, but for whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have them on today.”
He helps you put your work bag in his bike, and then, he helps you with your helmet, his fingers delicately grazing your throat as he tightens the strap there.
“If anything is wrong, just tap my thigh,” he tells you, swinging a leg over his bike and starting the engine.
Even with layers of protection over your ears from the helmet, his Harley is loud. It purrs, like a lion, and you stand in a daze for a moment before he makes a motion for you to hop on.
You’re careful of his injured shoulder as you slowly get on the bike, adjusting yourself on the seat.
Seungcheol reaches for your hand, settling it on his hip. He opens his visor. “Ready?”
You nod.
He nods back, and the bike roars to life. He pulls out of the parking spot, and you hold on tighter, thankful for the additional padding of a safety bar behind your back- is this the sissy bar he was talking about?
You can’t dwell on motorcycle terms as Seungcheol gets onto the street, the bike moving even faster. The feeling of summer air is hot but pleasant on your skin as you ride between cars. You get the sneaking suspicion that Seungcheol is holding back on his driving-
You could imagine him weaving between vehicles and being a general menace on his bike, but with you on the back, he’s trying his best to be a gentleman.
You’re shocked at the trust you already have in this man. A man who a little over twelve hours ago, was a stranger.
You’ve never considered yourself an adrenaline junkie, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, everything else slips away.
You’re at your home before you know it, and you almost feel sad when Seungcheol pulls up to the curb. He motions for you to get off, and he joins you on the sidewalk a moment later, quickly helping you with your helmet.
“How was it?” he asks.
“That was super fun,” you tell him, beaming.
Seungcheol grins when he sees the expression on your face. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Listen, keep the helmet for now,” Seungcheol says. “I have your number and I know where you live, so I’ll come back for it.”
You feel your expression drop, and Seungcheol cocks his head to the side, concern written on his face.
“You good?”
“I just-” you swallow thickly. “Sorry, my uh- my ex used to say that to me. That he knew where I lived when I broke up with him. It felt like a threat, and it’s one of the reasons I had to move a couple of months ago.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “Fuck that guy.”
You nod. “Fuck that guy.”
Five:
You’ve had Seungcheol stuck in your head. After he’d dropped you off, it had been hard to sleep, your mind preoccupied with his answer about his tattoo. When you’d finally woken up hours later, you hadn’t been able to help yourself, you’d pulled out your tarot deck.
“Spirit,” you’d breathed. “I think I may have met him. The Elk. And even though you’ve given me the sign with his tattoo, I feel like I need more confirmation. I’m going to shuffle, and if this is meant for me, can you please give me a love card?”
There are numerous cards within the deck that talk about relationships, partnerships and new beginnings, and you’re hoping that one pops out.
You begin to shuffle, closing your eyes and taking it easy.
It’s about a minute before a card pops out. It’s upside down on your coffee table.
You take a deep breath, slowly reaching out to flip the card.
The Two of Cups stares up at you, and you don’t even have to open your tarot guide book to know what that means. It’s a card of unity, of partnership. Other than the Lovers, it’s one of the most clear relationship cards you can get.
You stare at it for a long while. The Elk may have been a coincidence. The fact that his own late grandmother had been a tarot reader may have been a coincidence. But pulling the Two of Cups, out of any other card, when seaking confirmation- this feels like fate.
Part of you wants to be extra sure and ask for the lovers card, but you also think this might be a good time to trust your spirit team. They’ve guided you twice now, and maybe you have to look inward.
Why are you so cautious that Seungcheol might be the one?
Are you ready for a new relationship?
You’d thought you were ready- and here you are, meeting a man who fits your type-
Maybe it’s the fact that he is your type that you’re worried. What if he turns out to be a dickhead like the last ones? You’re still holding onto a lot of fear. You want to protect yourself, which you validate as a legitimate concern.
But… are you going to spend the rest of your life frightened?
Or are you going to try to let go of those fears and learn to trust again, even if it ends up biting you in the ass?
The possible risk is heartbreak, but the possible reward is endless happiness.
Fate can only do so much, this is the part where your own actions will dictate the future.
Six:
“So, how’s that dude with the tattoos doing?” Joshua asks, taking a seat next to you in the nursing station when things have finally calmed down.
“Cheol? I uh… haven’t talked to him since he dropped me off at my place two days ago.”
“Is that good or bad?”
You shrug. “I’m not sure. We’re both busy people. I work here, and he owns a tattoo shop.”
“I guess that’s true,” Joshua nods. “Maybe you should call him and see how he’s doing?”
You quirk a brow at your friend. “What’s your angle here?”
Now it’s Joshua’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “No angle. I think, as your friend, sometimes it’s important to give you a little push. After all, your tarot said he’s your soulmate.”
Joshua’s one of your only coworkers who you’ve felt comfortable opening up to. He knows about all your spiritual inklings, and you’d filled him in on your whole Elk, Leo, Two of Cups fiasco yesterday.
“Fine, I’ll give him a quick call,” you sigh. “Strictly as a nurse who wants to see how the wound is doing.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Joshua grins.
You roll your eyes at him, fishing your phone out of your pocket.
Seungcheol answers on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hi, how are you doing?” you ask, putting him on speaker phone. Joshua might be encouraging you to do this as a friend, but you know better than anyone that he also loves some good tea.
“Doing okay.”
“And your shoulder?”
“Good as far as I know… why? You worried about me?” You can hear the grin in his voice, the fact that he’s loving the concern you have for him. “I’ve had worse, you know.”
“I’d just hate for it to get infected,” you sigh.
“Look, if you want to do your due diligence as a nurse and everything, how about you get drinks with me and assess it yourself?” he suggests.
Joshua grabs your thigh, eyes widening, waiting on what you’ll say next.
“We could do that,” you respond.
“Sounds good, when are you free?”
“I’m off tomorrow.”
“How do you feel about eight o’clock?”
“That works,” you nod.
“I’ll pick you up at eight then, and bring your helmet.”
You find yourself smiling. “Will do.”
“It’s a date. See you then.”
“Bye, Cheol.”
Your heart is racing as you hang up the phone, and Joshua immediately repeats Seungcheol’s words, “It’s a date.”
“It’s a date,” you respond, jittery at the idea.
“Some guys are assholes and say ‘let’s hang out,’ but this one says ‘it’s a date.’”
“That’s a good sign,” you insist.
“A very good sign,” Joshua agrees. “If this dude ends up being the one, I might just have to get into tarot.”
Seven:
You’re surprised to find yourself playing nighttime mini golf with Seungcheol on your date. “What happened to drinks?” you ask as he pays for your tickets and grabs your clubs from the attendant.
He shrugs. “Figured you’re a nurse so you might not wanna get on my motorcycle after I had a few drinks, also the fact that you were designated driver last time I saw you at a bar- I thought this might be more your style. But, I’ll warn you, I’m not going to go easy on ya.”
You laugh, pleasantly surprised at how astute this man can be. “I think this will be fun.”
“Me too.”
Seungcheol’s wearing black jeans and a charcoal v-neck that shows off his strong shoulders. He’s the epitome of your type: a bad boy with tattoos. Yet, when you begin to play, he’s shockingly patient.
“Let me show you how to hold the club,” he suggests on the second hole, waiting for you to nod before he steps behind you and wraps his body around your own. “Feet positioning is key.” He also gently adjusts your hands, and your heart leaps in your chest when he breathes against your throat. “It might take some time to get used to,” Seungcheol warns, “so don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t come naturally.”
You hit the golf ball, and it goes a lot closer to the hole than your first shot had.
“Did it take a while for you to get into mini golf?” you ask.
“Nah, I was always a natural,” he teases, flashing you a wink before he takes his own shot.
You admire the way his shoulders look with his back to you. “So what got you into being a tattoo artist? Into having your own place?”
“Well, my grandma passed, and she left me a pretty big inheritance. She always thought I could succeed as a tattoo artist, but before that I was stuck doing blue collar type shit. I think, the money was her final way of telling me to follow my dreams. I’m kind of obsessed with ink, if you haven’t noticed.” He holds out his arms, which are littered with patchwork. “How about you? How does someone get into being an emergency room nurse?”
“I just like helping people,” you explain. “When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I’d always been scared of hospitals, but the nurse who helped me in emergency was an angel. She made it less scary, and when it was over, I realized I wanted to be just like her. When people come into the emergency room, it’s never fun. It’s frightening, and cold- and I want to be there for people who are going through that, to be a warm, friendly face.”
“My grandma had a light worker's soul too,” Seungcheol nods. “That’s what she always called it anyways. She wasn’t ever officially trained, but in her later years she got into herbal medicine. Anytime I was sick it was lemon and garlic chicken noodle soup with bone broths and the works- always made me feel a lot better.”
“She sounds like she was an amazing woman.”
“She was,” Seungcheol agrees. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think she would have liked you.”
You grin. “Is that an important trait you look for when taking girls to mini golf?”
Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “It should be. My last ex wouldn’t have fit the bill, and at the time, I thought that was okay, but it didn’t end well.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I’ll talk about mine if you talk about yours,” he suggests. “You said your last boyfriend was a creep when you broke up, threatened to come to your place and shit, he sounds like a piece of work.”
“He was,” you sigh. “I’ve got this thing for big tattooed men, bad boy types. It always leads to me getting my heart broken. He would tell me I was the one and everything, but I found out he was cheating on me with some waitress at the bar he used to go to all the time.”
“So what I’m hearing is… I’m your type.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m sorry to hear that. Cheaters are the fucking worst.”
“Sounds like you’ve experienced something like that too.”
“Looks like both of our ex’s were cheating fucks,” Seungcheol says. “I know it’s a red flag to talk shit about your ex or whatever, but some ex’s deserved to be talked bad about.”
You nod. “A hundred percent.”
“Did you think you were going to be with your last one forever?” Seungcheol asks after a moment.
“I thought so.”
“Me too with mine, I was just about ready to get her a ring.” He frowns, looking down at his golf ball. With a sigh, he easily knocks it into the hole. “Well, this is just the way life happens I guess.”
It’s clear you both have very similar wounds. You’re shocked at how easy it is to talk about this with Seungcheol. Some people say not to talk about ex’s on dates with new people, but this almost feels therapeutic. You understand Seungcheol better, and you’re sure he understands you too.
It’s promising to know he thinks about the future, that he’s ready to settle down, not all men are.
Maybe you’re both in the same boat with all of this, and that’s a hopeful thought.
Eight:
Seungcheol can’t seem to get you out of his head.
He’d never thought of himself as a particularly superstitious man. His grandma had been spiritual, and he’d always loved that aspect of her. He’d enjoyed doing tarot readings and making all sorts of elixirs with her in the garden. She’d told him he’d be a successful tattoo artist, she’d seen it in the stars, and while she’d been a big part of making that premonition come true, he wonders what else she might be right about.
Seungcheol’s grandma had always told him he’d end up with a healer like her. A doctor, a psychiatrist, a nurse- she wasn’t very specific, but she’d said his soul would call in a light worker when the time was right.
He feels drawn to you, his little emergency room nurse, designated driver, light worker.
It’s been such a short amount of time, but there’s something unexplainable about the way he feels.
“You look distracted,” Mingyu muses, coming to join Seungcheol outside the tattoo parlour where he’s puffing on his vape.
“Just thinking.”
“About your birthday party tonight, or that girl you brought through the other day?” Mingyu presses, grinning as he bumps his shoulder against Seungcheol’s.
Seungcheol can’t help but sigh at his friend’s prying ways.
“Look you don’t have to tell me anything, but summer is almost over and you need a backpack. My angel has been surrounded by testosterone motorcycle rides for months, and we’d all love another girl to be part of the group. You should invite her out tonight.”
Of course Mingyu’s coming at this from an angle of having a girlfriend. He and Wonwoo are obsessed with their ‘little angel,’ and Mingyu’s always talking about the joys of being in a relationship. It can get somewhat tedious for Seungcheol.
“Don’t you have a client soon?” Seungcheol sighs.
“Point taken, I’ll leave you be,” Mingyu says, patting him on the shoulder.
As soon as his friend is inside, Seungcheol pulls out his phone. He thinks about what he’s going to say to you, before typing out an easy, “Up to anything tonight?”
He’s shocked by how quick your response is. “It’s Sunmi’s birthday this week so we’re celebrating tonight since it’s Saturday.”
Seungcheol’s mood drops, and a moment later, you’re calling him.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you respond. “How are you doing?”
“Not so bad.” He wants to tell you that it’s his birthday tonight, wants to try to convince you to come, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to guilt you, doesn’t want to mess up your plans. “What’s up?”
“I just… I know we’ve only gone on one actual date, and I only met you a week ago, but… I just want you to know, when I go out tonight, I’m not going to be hitting on anyone or anything.”
He’s taken aback for a moment. “I wasn’t really worried about that.”
“Okay! Good! I just- I know with your ex and everything- and I just, I figured I’d clarify, even though we’ve only been on one date, I’m a one guy at a time kind of girl.”
He respects that you’re so direct about this, and he appreciates your loyalty. You really are a good person.
“I’m a one girl at a time kind of guy,” Seungcheol says finally. “Glad we’re on the same page about that.”
“Me too.” He can hear your smile, and it makes his heart swell.
“Anyways, I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight.”
“I will, bye, Cheol.”
Nine:
You’re having a great night. The drinks have been flowing, and you’re having a fun time celebrating Sunmi’s birthday. Things are fuzzy in the best way- until you hear a familiar voice say your name.
You turn to find your ex standing close to you at the bar, and your heart sinks in your chest.
“It’s been a while,” your ex states.
You can’t even find the words to speak, suddenly getting drunk seems like a horrible idea.
You’ve just started to feel safe again, to feel stable- you’d thought being out with your friends, you could let loose, but now your ex is here and your heart is beginning to race.
“Have you been drinking?” your ex asks, coming to stand closer to you at the bar top, where you’d been sipping a gin and tonic.
“I, uh-” your words catch in your throat, and you swallow thickly. “It’s Sunmin’s birthday.”
Your ex nods, and when you look toward your table, you see Sunmin gaping at you.
Turning away from Sunmi, your ex addresses you. “Is she still a huge bitch?”
“I-” you want to defend your friend, but you feel frozen. You can’t think- you’re completely overwhelmed, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your heart like thunder in your chest.
“We need to talk,” your ex says next. “Come outside with me.”
He grabs your arm, and then a hand wraps around yours. You turn to see Sunmi standing there, glaring at your ex. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she asks.
“Y/N and I need to have a chat outside,” your ex sighs, being very dismissive.
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Sunmi insists. “Honey, do you want to go with him?”
You quickly shake your head, moving closer to your friend for safety.
“She doesn’t know what she wants,” your ex rolls his eyes, tightening his grip on your arm to the point where it almost hurts.
“We’re going to the bathroom,” Sunmi insists, somehow successfully tugging you away from your ex.
“Run away, but I’ll be right here to talk to her when you’re done.”
It feels like a blur as Sunmi races you to the woman’s washroom. “Y/N,” she helps you to the sink, looking at your face. “Are you okay?”
“I-”
Sunmi pulls you to her chest, hugging you deeply. “We’re going to sort this out,” she promises.
“How?” You feel like crying. All the emotions come flooding back, the fear, the helplessness-
“We’re going to call Seungcheol.”
“What?” You’re in shock. “We can’t do that!”
“We can, and we will. Men like your ex only respond to other men. We’re calling him. Give me your phone.”
Reluctantly, you hand Sunmi your cell, turning on the sink to splash your arms with cold water.
“Hi, Seungcheol?” There’s a pause. “No, this is Sunmi. I’m out with y/n, we’re at a bar on Elm and fifth street, her ex just showed up- okay, okay, yeah, we’re in the bathroom in the back.”
She hangs up and you look to her for an explanation.
Your friend lets out a sigh. “As soon as I said your ex was here, Seungcheol said to give him five minutes. I’m going to keep you here and he’ll come get us, okay?”
You nod. “I’m sorry to ruin your birthday.”
“Honey, you’re not ruining anything,” she assures you, pulling you in for another hug.
You hold back tears while you wait with Sunmi, and in no time at all, there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Seungcheol pokes his head in, and you see his expression drop when he sees you.
“What happened?” he growls, coming to join you.
“Her ex was trying to drag her outside-” Sunmi tries to explain.
“He touched you?” Seungcheol asks, anger laced in his words.
You nod, pointing to your forearm.
“Grabbed is more like it,” Sunmi breathes.
“Okay,” Seungcheol nods. “Okay, I’ll get you out of here. Just hold onto me and we’ll get out of here.”
You nod again, allowing Seungcheol to gently take your hand. He guides you out of the bathroom, and you huddle close to his side as he walks you through the bar- you almost think things will go smoothly when your ex steps in front of you.
“Who’s this, you’re new boyfriend?” he asks, venom dripping from his words.
Seungcheol stops in his tracks. “So you must be the dip shit ex.”
“Say that again, asshole,” your ex growls, eyes narrowing.
“You must be-” Seungcheol broadens his shoulders, “the dip shit ex.”
Your ex releases a laugh, and then he’s taking a swing. It feels slow and fast at the same time, Sunmi tears you away from Seungcheol, who dodges the punch easily, only to land a blow to your ex’s stomach-
“Y/N! Sunmi!” Mingyu’s voice appears out of nowhere, and suddenly two strong arms are wrapping around you and your friend. “Outside!”
Mingyu keeps you close as he gets you and Sunmi out of the bar while a commotion ensues in your wake. Four motorcycles are pulled up on the curb. You recognize Vernon, and there’s another man you’ve never seen before.
“Cheol’s starting shit,” Mingyu tells his friends quickly.
“We heard your ex was here?” Vernon offers, giving you a sympathetic look.
“He threw a swing at Cheol when I got inside,” Mingyu tries to explain. “Y/N, we’re going to get you out of here, Wonwoo pass me the spare helmet from the saddlebag.”
“What about Seungcheol?” you ask, watching the men fuss.
“He can take care of himself,” Mingyu assures you, helping you put on the helmet.
“Cheol will meet us at our place,” the new man, Wonwoo, says. “When he gets hot like this, he doesn’t drive very safely.”
“Trust us,” Mingyu pleads. “We just gotta get you out of here, your ex made the first swing, and nothing good can come from this now.”
You turn to Sunmi and she squeezes your hand. “It’s okay, get out of here. I’ll text you what happens.”
You can’t even think as Mingyu gets onto his bike and you awkwardly take the seat behind him. You can’t comprehend how things happened the way they did- how fast the altercation had been before your ex had taken a go at Seungcheol.
As you leave the bar, heart thundering in your chest, it’s the most you can do to try to slow your breathing, your body still carrying the trauma that you’d endured with your ex, the wound you’d thought was healed now torn open.
Ten:
“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as Mingyu covers you with a large fluffy blanket on his couch. “I mean- you just said your girlfriend is four months pregnant and sleeping in the other room-”
“It’s fine,” Mingyu assures you.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You’d found your ability to speak again once you felt safe and in Mingyu’s apartment, and now, you can’t help the anxiety bubbling inside of you. You feel like a burden- and it’s an all too familiar feeling from your time with your ex.
“You didn’t ruin it, we were almost done anyways,” Wonwoo notes.
“Are you sure?”
“Y/N, deep breaths,” Mingyu tells you, sitting on the couch next to you, offering your calf a reassuring squeeze.
“Is Cheol going to be okay?” you ask.
“He’s going to be fine, that man has never lost a fight,” Mingyu explains, smiling softly.
In the distance, you hear an engine revving, and Wonwoo sighs. “There he is.”
Not even five minutes later, Seungcheol is practically bursting through the door. His eyes find you on the couch, and you’re quick to stand, allowing him to envelop you in a hug. His heart is racing in his chest, he’s clearly panicked, and when he pulls away, he looks down at you with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?” he questions, cupping your face as if checking you for injury.
“I’m okay, are you okay?” you retort.
“Just a few bruised knuckles,” he assures you.
You find yourself laughing, and as you laugh, your eyes well up with tears. Now that he’s here, you finally feel like you can take a deep breath, and he’s quick to tug you back to his chest as you cry.
“I’m going to give you a moment, then I’m going to take you home,” he tells you, hand smoothing up and down your back.
You stay in his arms until you feel a bit better, and when you pull away, Mingyu is offering you a tissue. You clean yourself up, say your goodbyes, then Seungcheol walks you out with the spare helmet in hand.
He doesn’t say anything on the way down, but at the bike, he hands you his fullface. “Want you protected,” he tells you, grabbing the bucket helmet from your grasp.
You nod, putting on the helmet and allowing him to help you fasten it up.
You’re quiet as you both get onto the bike, and Seungcheol adjusts your hand to his hip, squeezing gently.
The bike roars to life and you take off.
It’s a different feeling to be on a motorcycle while still a little drunk, and you find yourself throwing your head back to look up at the night sky.
You’ve seen the stars before, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, it feels like you're experiencing them for the first time.
You lose track of time doing this, and the ride is done sooner than you’d like when he pulls up to your building. “Come on, baby,” he says softly, helping you take off your helmet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
He holds your hand, helping you with your keys to get into the apartment complex. The elevator ride is quiet, but his hand is a reassuring constant, warm and large wrapped around your own.
He’s never been to your place, and you feel a little self conscious as you open up your door. It’s a modest apartment, one bedroom- there’s really nothing to be insecure about, but you think maybe your anxiety from the bar incident is just making you a little crazy.
“How about you sit down, and I’ll get you some water?” he suggests, helping you to the couch.
You kick off your high heels, curling up on the cushions while Seungcheol putters around your kitchen. He already looks like he belongs here, and for a brief moment, you can forget about your ex.
Seungcheol rejoins you on the couch, handing you the cup. “Here.”
“Thank you.”
You sip on your water, trying to breathe properly again.
Seungcheol gives you the space to unwind. He doesn’t pester you with questions about the altercation with your ex at the bar, and you’re grateful for it.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks finally.
You shake your head, your eyes dropping to his hands. “You’re hurt though.”
“Just bruised knuckles,” he assures you.
“There’s blood,” you insist. “I’ll-”
“Tell me where your first aid kit is and I’ll grab it.”
You direct him to the cupboard in your bathroom, and he returns with it, setting the case onto your coffee table.
“How’s your shoulder?” you ask as you take out the tools you’ll need.
“Almost better, I heal fast,” he says softly.
It feels good to focus on his wounds rather than your own, and you gently clean the scrapes on his hand. His right fist is pretty badly bruised, and you do your best to treat it. Then you begin to slowly wrap his knuckles, taking your time. Two wraps around his wrist, diagonal across the top to his pinky, under the hand, to the pointer, diagonal-
It’s a nice repetition of motions, and when you’re all done, you lift his hand to your lips, gently pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “All better.”
You look up at Seungcheol, and he stares back.
Then, he slowly moves in, carefully watching your expression. He stops just an inch from your lips, and you can feel his breath on your face. He’s waiting for you to make the final move, for you to be the one with control.
With one last look at your beautiful, dark protector, you close the distance.
It’s a soft kiss, not the kind of first kiss you’ve ever had before. Seungcheol doesn’t immediately try to dominate you like men in the past have, he lets you set the pace. You lean in closer, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you deepen the kiss.
Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you, and it’s a somewhat awkward position on the couch like this, so he simply pulls you onto his lap.
You lose yourself in the kiss, allowing all your anxiety to dissipate while you enjoy the safety Seungcheol provides.
After a while, Seungcheol pulls away, and you’re both breathing heavily.
“How… how do your knuckles feel?” you ask.
He laughs, looking down at his hands. “I might black out my fingers when this is all healed,” he admits. “I get into too many barfights. My grandma used to say it was the Leo in me.”
“The Leo in you?” you repeat, heard thumping wildly in your chest.
“Yeah, I uh…” he lets out a soft chuckle, “I didn’t wanna pressure you to come out or anything after I heard you were at a friend’s birthday party, but it’s sort of my birthday today.”
You’re frozen for a moment. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re a Leo,” you say again.
“Uh huh. You’re not about to tell me some weird zodiac rule about our signs not being compatible, are you?”
“No, it’s not that.” You take a deep breath. Just a short time ago, you’d decided not to tell him about the Elk tattoo meaning, and now here you are, about to tell him everything.
You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the bar situation, or the slight tipsyness, but you think fuck it, if he could tell you about his tarot loving grandmother, you can tell him about this.
“A few months ago, I did a reading,” you begin to explain.
“A tarot reading,” he clarifies.
“Yeah. And I asked my guides to show me a spirit animal card that would be a tattoo on the person I’m supposed to be with. The card came up as an Elk- and before you tell me it’s a very common tattoo, I know it is, which is why I asked for further clarification with them telling me the zodiac of this person too-”
“And they said Leo,” he breathes.
You nod. “Then, when I met you, the Elk lined up, but I still wasn’t sure, so I did another reading on us, and the Two of Cups came out, it’s a love card. So with those two cards, and now the fact that you’re a Leo-”
“Is this your way of telling me you think I’m your soulmate?” Seungcheol grins.
“God, I should have guessed you’re a fucking Leo,” you roll your eyes.
“Don’t be rude,” he tuts, gently pinching your hip. “If it’s any consolation, my grandmother always told me I’d end up with someone in the medical field, and you’re an ER nurse.”
“She really said that?” you ask.
“Uh huh.” Seungcheol’s gaze dips to your lips then back up again. “I wonder if she saw this future.”
Your heart melts. After your last relationship, where the lovebombing came on fast, you’d promised yourself not to get burned by that sort of thing again- but here you are, falling for Seungcheol way quicker than you ever have with anyone else in the past.
Even so, something about this feels so right.
You let out a breath. “One time with the Elk may have been coincidence. Two times with the Two of Cups card was a little odd. But three times with your Leo Zodiac-”
“I guess the question is, do you believe in fate?” Seungcheol moves closer.
“I think you know that I do,” you laugh.
Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your hips, and he doesn’t say anything else as he brings his mouth to yours.
You kiss him eagerly, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chests together. His tongue glides against your own and it feels like magic- there’s a bulge growing in his pants, and you can’t help but begin to grind down against him.
Seungcheol releases a small groan and it’s music to your ears, prompting you to apply more pressure to his cock when you wriggle against him.
With a sigh, Seungcheol pulls away. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’ve been drinking and I don’t want to take advantage tonight-”
“I swear that whole situation with my ex sobered me up,” you admit. “Besides, maybe I want to give you a birthday present.”
“A birthday present?” he repeats with a chuckle.
You nod. “Cheol, I haven’t even kissed anyone in months- I’m already practically drenched from making out, you won’t make me wait even longer, will you?”
He studies your face, and you can see the moment he folds. “We can do this, but at any point if I think you look drunk, we have to stop. I don’t want you to regret this being our first time.”
“I could never regret this,” you promise, leaning in to press your lips to his throat.
Seungcheol throws his head back, his fingers digging into your hips again. The low moan he releases tells you that he has a sensitive neck, and you enjoy simply teasing him for a minute while you mentally prep yourself for what’s to come next.
You do want to move on, and this is one of those steps.
You’re not afraid of it. You had been frightened about intimacy with someone new, but Seungcheol makes you feel more safe than you’ve ever felt in your life.
You want this.
You shift a little on Seungcheol’s lap, reaching down to cup his cock with your palm.
Seungcheol swallows thickly, his hands smoothing up and down your hips. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”
“It’s your birthday,” you point out. “And you took care of me at the bar, I think it’s my turn to show some appreciation.”
He doesn’t argue with you, and you can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He lets out a deep breath. “I know it’s early,” he says, “but… if we do this, I don’t want any confusion. I want you to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours.”
“Honestly? I’ve been yours since practically the moment I saw you take your shirt off so I could clean your shoulder wound.”
Seungcheol releases a chuckle. “Really?”
“Uh huh, you make me fucking feral.”
He lets out a groan of appreciation. “It’s been hard to control myself too. That day at the studio, when you touched my back tattoo- I was so close to breaking. Wanted to throw you onto my desk and make you feel good.”
You imagine what that would have been like, and it makes you moan. “Why didn’t you?”
“I could tell you had a past, and I didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits. “I’ve been… trying to be a good boy.”
Your bad boy trying to be good to make you comfortable. You really hit the jackpot with Seungcheol.
“Cheol, I’ve told you I have a thing for bad boys,” you tease.
“So maybe I should take control right now,” he suggests with a grin.
“Let me suck you off, and then you can take control,” you tell him, pulling away. “I’m going to get on my knees now.”
Seungcheol watches you slip onto the floor infront of him, and your hands find his belt. You try to focus on your task of getting his pants off, but you enjoy sneaking glances at him, seeing his pretty face as he tries to keep composure.
He lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down, and his cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, hard and already leaking.
He’s a decent size, somewhere between six and seven inches, and his cock is as girthy as the rest of him. You lick your lips, grabbing the base so you can adjust him toward your mouth as you lean in.
“No teasing,” Seungcheol warns, voice softening when he says, “please.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Liar,” he laughs, reaching out to stroke your head.
You slip the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue.
“And that’s the teasing I was talking about,” Seungcheol muses. “Feels good though.”
You sink further down onto him, beginning to suck as you move up and down.
“Fuck, that feels even better,” he groans.
When you were with your ex, blow jobs were an expectation, and because of that, you never really enjoyed them. There’s something powerful about doing this of your own volition, about making the conscious choice to pleasure Seungcheol.
You close your eyes, getting lost in the motion of providing this for him. Hallowing your cheeks, you suck hard when you’re near the tip, and Seungcheol groans loudly, shifting further down on the couch so you’re not bent over him in such an awkward position.
“You’re good at that, baby,” Seungcheol says. “But there’s only one birthday present I’d enjoy more than this.”
You let out a “hmm?” sound, an inquiry.
“When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
Your pussy throbs at his words, and you increase your speed on his cock, letting out a moan of appreciation.
“Yeah? You like that?” he asks. “Say the word, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”
You pull off of him, your hand smoothing up from base to tip to pump him while you address your beautiful dark protector. “I just want to make you feel good a little while longer.”
His expression softens. “Making me feel really good.”
You grin, returning to your task.
Seungcheol’s hand is gentle in your hair. He caresses you while you suck him off, never applying pressure or trying to get you to deep throat him. It’s an ever constant, soft touch, and you’re shocked at how much of a gentleman this heavily tattooed, bar fighting, Leo can be.
“Baby?” His voice draws you from your thoughts. “I know I said you could say the word and be done, but- this feels too good, and I don’t wanna bust the moment I begin to fuck you.”
You pull off of his cock with a pop, smiling up at him. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He lets out a shaky breath and grins. “Where’s your bedroom, gorgeous?”
“Right there.” You point at the door adjacent to the living room.
“Come on, baby, it’s my turn to take care of you.” He helps you to your feet, pulling his pants back up, and you’re shocked when he throws you over his uninjured shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom while you erupt in a fit of butterfly fueled giggles.
Seungcheol lays you softly onto your bed, staring down at you. He takes in your silky shirt and your dress pants, you like to be more classy when you go out, to keep up with your reputation as a nurse.
The two of you are very different people. He’s black ripped jeans, plain tshirts and tattoos. And you’re classy outfits, scrubs, and a healer’s touch. Somehow, even with these differences, the two of you work. Like Yin and Yang, complementary forces, light and dark.
“Can I take these off for you?” he asks, tugging at your pant leg.
You nod, watching the way he begins to undo your button and zipper. He’s slow with his motions, precise. It’s not a rush to get you naked, it’s an enjoyed exploration, and you love the way his eyes glow when you lift your hips to allow him to pull the fabric off your lower half.
“You’re so pretty,” Seungcheol muses.
“Yeah?”
“That day you were in my shop with your friend, doing a consult with Vernon- I was trying to act like I was watching my newest apprentice work, but… I kept looking at you. And then, outside the bar, when you showed up again-” Seungcheol shakes his head, his hand smoothing along your leg gently. “Baby, you’re going to turn me into a believer.”
“Invisible string theory, perhaps,” you grin.
Seungcheol chuckles. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
He takes off his own shirt, and you watch the way his muscles move under his skin. He’s littered in tattoos, patchwork on his arms and chest. There must be a hundred small to medium sized tattoos, and you want to know the story behind each and every one.
But there’s a time and a place for that, and right now, you’re eager for something else.
Seungcheol gets on top of you, and you immediately thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, pulling his lips to your own.
Your free hand explores his muscular shoulders, careful of the bandage still on his bar wound, and you’re practically tingling with how attracted you are to this man.
He kisses you deeply, cupping your face while his other hand braces him to the bed over top of you.
Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, and he grinds against your panty clad core.
The pressure on your clit has you moaning, and Seungcheol responds by kissing down your throat. He licks at your collarbone, and then his hand moves from your cheek to your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asks.
“Uh huh, there’s a tie at the back.”
Seungcheol pulls off of you, and in one motion, he flips you onto your stomach. His warm hand smooths over your shoulder, toying with the tie there.
You hold your breath in anticipation as he begins to undo the corset style back of your slinky top. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck that makes your body erupt in goosebumps.
You enjoy the way he takes his time with your shirt, and he slowly helps you slip it off. You’re laying flat on his bed, your tits pressed to the comforter, while Seungcheol explores your back with his hands. He traces the curvature of your sides, pressing kisses along your spine. Soft curls tickle your skin, and you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat at how good this feels.
Seungcheol flips you over again, and his gaze dips to your exposed breasts. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, gently groping your chest, his thumb grazing over your nipple. You watch him swallow thickly, and then he’s leaning over, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth while you tangle your fingers in his curls again.
With his mouth on your breast, his free hand slips down your body, and he tugs your panties down just enough for him to access your core.
Two digits rub between your pussy lips and you feel him smile against your nipple. “You weren’t lying about being wet, baby.”
“Would never lie to you,” you breathe out shakily.
“No?” He circles your clit and you moan loudly.
“Never,” you repeat, pushing your hips up toward his hand, needing more friction.
Seungcheol rewards you by slipping both of his digits into your wet core, pressing his palm to your clit as he begins to finger fuck you. He sucks on your breast while he does this, and you’re lost in the sensations he provides.
“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper when his teeth graze your nipple, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers.
“Wanna make you cum,” Seungcheol says, pulling away from your breast to look down at you.
“Then make me cum,” you respond, nodding at him.
Seungcheol presses one last kiss to your lips and then he shifts down the bed, pulling his fingers from your core. He gets onto his knees at the foot of the mattress, dragging you toward himself and pulling your panties off.
He spreads your thighs. “So pretty,” he muses. “Everything about you is so fucking pretty.”
Your skin heats, it can be hard to take a compliment, but something tells you that Seungcheol will get you used to this kind of praise.
He leans forward, eyes meeting yours as he presses a kiss to your clit. You jolt at the small contact, releasing a shaky breath.
No one has eaten you out in months, and your core is already throbbing with anticipation.
“Gonna take care of you,” Seungcheol promises, and you know that this promise extends far past the sexual setting you’re in right now.
He moves forward again, capturing your clit in his mouth while his digits easily slip into your pussy again.
You throw your head back, enjoying the sensation of him worshiping your cunt. He’s gentle with his motions at first, kitten licking your sensitive bud. You know he’s getting used to your sounds, figuring out what pressure works, what you enjoy, whether thats sucking, or more gentle stimulus.
“Feels good,” you tell him. “Like the way you crook your fingers.”
He responds by applying more pressure to the ‘come hither’ motion he’s making, and you release a whine at how good it feels.
“Just like that,” you whimper.
He sucks your clit harder too, and you moan louder, hips bucking toward his face.
Seungcheol’s free hand finds your lower abdomen and he pins you to his bed, keeping you still while he works on your pussy.
You can feel your walls clenching around him, and Seungcheol releases a groan of pleasure. It adds to your own feeling of euphoria that clearly he’s enjoying this. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’s usually a giver, and the fact that he doesn’t see this as a chore has you able to enjoy it fully, unlike certain past experiences where men had to be begged into eating you out.
Sex with Seungcheol - even foreplay like this - feels so natural. You’re not as in your head as you usually are, with his nonverbal communications and moans, you can be certain he’s enjoying this as much as you are, and it gives you the confidence to give yourself over completely to the pleasure.
Sex should always be like this, you realize.
There’s no pressure, no worrisome thoughts, it’s just two souls connecting physically in a way that’s mutually beneficial.
Having not been eaten out in a long time, it’s not surprising that you’re extremely sensitive, and Seungcheol works you all the way to the edge before you can even comprehend what’s happening.
“Cheol-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair, “I’m gonna-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, he sucks harshly on your clit, and your words become moans as your orgasm surges through you.
His hand on your abdomen keeps you steady as he works you through your high, sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking on his broad shoulders.
Seungcheol pulls away, and you open your eyes to watch him wipe the back of his mouth, licking his fingers clean.
“Still want this?” he asks, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his jeans.
“More than anything,” you smile.
A moment later, Seungcheol is as naked as you are, and he gets between your thighs again, lips returning to your own. He doesn’t immediately slip his cock into you, instead, he grinds against your core, teasing your sensitive clit and driving you wild.
You kiss him eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair and groping his muscular shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him despite the need growing inside of you.
You’re reminded again that there’s no rush.
You can take pleasure in this without feeling like you need to be getting fucked to be worth something.
You’re a hundred percent sure that if you’d told Seungcheol you’re not ready for sex, he would have stopped, cuddled you, and not taken it personally. There’s this feeling that Seungcheol is going to be around for a long time- and as crazy as it is with how short of a time you’ve known him, you know that your connection runs deeper than your physical attraction.
Seungcheol shifts slightly, grabbing at his cock. You bite at your lip while you wait for him to line it up with your core, and you break your kiss, panting. Your eyes meet as he slips the head of his length into your wet hole, and you both groan at the feeling.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, sinking in inch by inch. “You feel so fucking good.”
“You feel better,” you retort, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his nose.
“Impossible,” he grins, burying his face in your throat as he begins to fuck you.
You claw at his shoulders, crying out with each thrust. He fills you so well- he has probably one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever taken, and the way he stretches you out is like heaven, like he was made to be in your pussy.
The sounds he’s making are unlike any other pleasured noises you’ve ever heard.
Nothing has ever felt this right.
Seungcheol’s uninjured hand finds your own, and he laces your fingers, squeezing you reassuringly as he fucks you harder, his speed increasing.
His lips are hot on your neck, and it feels delightful. You love just laying back and taking everything he’s giving you. He’s so big, like a warm, weighted blanket covering your form.
Your toes are already curling at how deep he’s hitting, and your thighs shake desperately around his hips.
“Cheol-”
“Yes, baby?” he asks.
“You just- fuck, this feels so good-”
“You deserve to feel good,” Seungcheol tells you. “You work so hard for others, I’m lucky I get to be the guy working for you.”
Your heart swells at his words. Past boyfriends’ haven't ever truly appreciated how hard it is to be an emergency room nurse. You spend your whole shift taking care of others, and that high pressure, intense mentality bleeds into your personal life. It's a sweet relief to be the one on the receiving end, to relax and know that you can fully give yourself up to the pleasure and desire you feel, without feeling obligated to return this favour with future sexual gratifications.
Seungcheol’s lips meet your own, and you get lost in him, moaning desperately as he works your pussy open.
His thrusts slow, and he stays completely still inside of you for a moment, then pulls away.
“Can you shift onto your side for me?” he asks. “One leg straight on the bed, the other thigh pulled closer to your chest.”
It’s a position you’ve never tried before, but you trust Seungcheol, and you’re quick to adjust. You lay half on your side, one leg stretched between his knees while you bring your other toward your breasts.
Seungcheol’s warm hand finds your thigh, and he helps bend you, his free hand guiding his cock to your pussy again.
When he pushes in this time, it feels even deeper, and you let out a squeak at the stimulation.
“You like that?” he asks, hand moving from your thigh to your breast, where he gently pinches your nipple.
“So deep- I feel so full-” you whimper.
Seungcheol only grins, and he’s an absolute vision in this position. He’s practically on his knees, and his chest is all exposed and gorgeous. His tattoos are beautiful as he massages your breast with one hand, the other on your thigh, anchoring you while he fucks you.
You’re not sure if it’s the sideways angle or what, but he’s hitting a spot that has your toes curling tight, your pussy clenching.
“Fuck-” you moan.
“Shit, I should have asked this before-” Seungcheol says, voice shaky, “do I need to pull out or-”
“I’m on birth control,” you assure him. “You can cum inside.”
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, rutting into you even harder.
“Kinda want you to fill me up,” you admit.
“You’re way too sexy, baby, holy shit-”
You can tell your words are doing a number on him, and it makes your core throb with pleasure.
“Can you rub your clit?” he asks. “Want you to cum with me. I hate cumming alone.”
“Yeah.” Your hand slips between your thighs awkwardly, and Seungcheol decreases his pace to give you a chance to catch up to his pleasure.
His movements are slower now, more precise, his cock hitting that spot deep inside that has you crying out again.
“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you. “My pretty little nurse.”
For some reason, his words just do something to you, and your core throbs even harder. “Cheol, I’m close-” you warn him,
“Tell me when you’re almost there and I’ll go fast again.”
You focus on the sight of him, on the tattoos and muscles, his strong features and the pretty dark curls. His small groans egg you on, and you’re at the edge in no time, giving him a nod. “Okay-”
He releases your breast, using both hands on your leg now to steady himself as he fucks you stupid, your whole body jolting with each motion. You let out a desperate whine, rubbing your clit even harder-
“Fuck, fuck-” Seungcheol groans. “Feels so fucking good- fuck, cum with me, baby, cum with me-”
You moan in response, your core clenching down desperately on his cock as your orgasm explodes through you. Your whole body shivers with endorphins, heart racing in your chest.
Seungcheol throws his head back, releasing an extremely sexy groan as he cums with you, fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts slowly and deeply, working you through your orgasms.
You rub your clit until you can’t take it anymore, tearing your hand away.
Seungcheol slumps forward, stilling completely, and you greedily grab at his shoulders. He collapses half on top of you, and you thread your fingers through his hair, panting hard.
His forehead rests against your own, and you both just try to catch your breath.
You’ve never felt connected to someone the way you feel connected to Seungcheol in this moment. It’s all consuming, and it makes you emotional as you come down from your high.
Seungcheol must notice your shaky breathing because he opens his eyes and looks at you. “You okay, baby?”
“I’m just-” you swallow thickly. “I don’t know-”
You can’t voice it, can’t voice the way you’re feeling. There are so many thoughts swirling around in your head, so many past traumas rearing their ugly faces and making you second guess yourself-
“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Seungcheol breathes, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And just like that, he can clear all of your anxieties, as if he was able to read your mind and see your fears.
You’ve always been drawn to bad boys, to men who you envision as some kind of dark protector- and now, you think you’ve finally found the right one.
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this fic is written in conjunction to my other story 'crossroads,' read more about Mingyu, Wonwoo, and their y/n here
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🔮 preview. Seungcheol’s thrusts get faster, and he rests his forehead against your spine while he rails you into the blow up mattress at a campsite where anyone could walk by. His baby fever is at an all time high, and he’s fucking you like a man who means every word he’s saying.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, sex in a campsite, exhibitionism, staying quiet during sex, pussy eating, fingering, large/muscled/tattooed Cheol, quickie, baby fever, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise, breast worship, etc…
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 180
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
bonus
It’s been just under a year since you started dating Seungcheol, and through him, you’ve found a family. Many trivia nights, and bowling excursions have been spent with Seungcheol, his friends, Sunmi, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan. Once you’d met everyone face to face, it had been much easier to track Sunmi’s convoluted explanation of her connection to the tattoo parlour, and it’s been a joy to become so close with so many wonderful people.
Sunmi’s sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, is cousins with Mingyu and Wonwoo’s girlfriend, who’d had a beautiful baby girl this past January, and now, it’s the baby’s first summer. You don’t mind the shift of hang outs to be more baby inclusive, and now, you find yourself at a campsite with the whole gang.
While everyone is quite enamored with the little baby girl, Haesoo, no one is more obsessed than your boyfriend Seungcheol. You always get to see him coddling her while out and about as a group, but in the past three days at this campsite, you’ve contracted a serious case of baby fever.
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Reading this on the heels of Cheol’s absolutely heinous (for my mental health) decision to dress up as the Winter Soldier, I’m reaaaaallllyyyyyy digging this perspective. Truly soulmates dictated by the fates
summary: he swears the camera’s off, but the way Haechan bends you over his gaming chair says otherwise.
warnings: filming/ live streaming, fingering, unprotected sex, a lot of dirty talk, breeding, hair pulling
a.n: this is one of my favorites omg i should've made it longer
The red light on the camera is dark. The chat box is minimized to a skinny gray pillar on the second monitor. On the first, OBS sits open on the “BRB” splash, no audio meters bouncing, no mic monitoring, no green bar rising and falling to catch your breath.
Haechan says it’s off.
He says it like it’s an afterthought, like he doesn’t notice his own hand flattening at the base of your spine as he eases you forward, bending you over the edge of his gaming chair until the seat bites your thighs. The leather is warm from him. The room hums with fans and the soft whirr of RGB underglow. Keys sit scattered in a crescent where he dropped them mid-laugh when you walked in—because you said, on stream, “you owe me dinner,” and the chat spammed emotes of rings and knives and clown faces while Haechan just smirked into his mic.
“Relax,” he says now, low in your ear. “We’re offline.”
“You sure?” Your voice comes out thinner than you intend, backed against leather and the unavoidable truth that every single thing in this room points to that dead camera like a witness: boom arm, ring light, the tripod angled center at the chair where you’re bent.
Haechan smiles. You don’t have to see it to know; you feel it in the way his cheek brushes your temple, the way his thumb drags just above the waistband of your skirt. “You don’t trust me?”
You do. That’s the problem. You trust him enough to come over after midnight. Trust him enough to watch his last two ranked matches from the corner of the room, half-amused, half turned-on at the filthy confidence of his voice when he talks to chat. Trust him enough to stand here in front of a rig designed to make thousands of people see him.
“I trust you,” you say.
“Good.” He taps your hip. “Then stay right there.”
You can feel him looking—at you, at the lens, at both. His palm slides lower, fingers fanning. You shift and the chair creaks. The noise is obscene in the quiet. He laughs into your neck like he planned for this exact sound.
“Haechan.”
“What?”
"Stop teasing."
No words. Just his hand in your hair, tugging you back with a lazy kind of force that says he’s done playing nice.
“Fuck,” you say, and then you gasp because his other hand has stolen under your skirt and found the heat you’ve been trying to ignore since he ended the stream. The panties you wore were for you, not for him—black, thin, a ribbon at the hip that you tied thinking you’d get fed and kissed and teased, not bent over the chair he spends eight hours a day in while strangers beg him to look at the camera.
He finds the ribbon. He pulls. The bow gives with a soft whisper. “Cute,” he says, lazy with approval, and the elastic parts enough for his knuckles to drift down and stroke you there, barely, the kind of touch that’s worse than any pressure. You bite your lip.
You didn’t hear the soft click from the keyboard.
You didn’t notice the way his eyes flicked toward the monitor before he kissed your spine again.
“So…what would you do if it was on?”
Your answer is not a sentence. It’s a full-body shiver that starts at your knees and climbs your spine where his palm still steadies you. He feels it. He always does. He makes a pleased sound and does it again, deeper, slicker now, the glide of it making your eyes pinch shut.
“Say you’d like it,” he says, just to be cruel.
“Haechan,” you warn.
“Say it,” he repeats, pressuring the word against your throat with a kiss.
“I'd like it,” you whisper. You hate him for making you say it and you want him for it exactly as much.
“That’s my good girl.”
You grip the front edge of the chair seat until your knuckles blanch. He gives you two fingers at once, curls them, and your hips tip. The leather sighs. Your mouth opens on nothing. If there were meters on the screen, they’d be spiking now; if the red light were on, it would be catching the way your lashes fumble against your cheeks, the wet shine between your legs, the desperate sight of you spreading for his hand.
“Haechan—”
He doesn’t speed up. He lingers. He works you like he has all night, like the last thing he said to chat wasn’t “I’m starving, we’re ordering food,” with a wink that made the sub notification train go feral. He drags the pad of his thumb up to your clit and breathes a laugh when your hips try to chase him.
“Please,” you say, and the word falls out of you a little ragged. You’re not above pleading when it’s just him and the humming fans and a door with a lock. “Please, baby.”
Oh if it only were just him.
“Yeah?” He strokes you a little firmer, a little faster, reward for asking nicely. “You want to come on my hand or on my dick?”
Heat hits your cheeks. “Yes.”
He chuckles. “Greedy.” His fingers withdraw and you hear the zip of denim; the little metallic clink of his belt unhooking makes your stomach drop in the best way. “Hands on the armrests. Arch for me.”
You do, breath hitching when his palm slides to your lower back to guide your curve just so. “Fuck,” he says softly, reverent in a way that makes your chest clench. “You’re unreal.”
You want to look back at him. You don’t. The not-looking is its own kink tonight. You stare forward at the dead dark of the room and let your imagination run wild. How he'd look, fluffy brown hair in disarray, his t-shirt pushed up and snagged between his teeth, cock out and flushed pretty pink.
He presses himself along your slit in a lazy, taunting glide, hot and thick and exactly the size that makes your thoughts stutter.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Haechan,” you say, wrecked and impatient and more honest than you meant to be. “Please.”
He sinks into you in one long, steady push that empties the air from your lungs. You choke on a sound he swallows against the back of your neck. His fingers flatten beside yours on the armrest, caging you there as your body takes him, deep, deeper, until your heels are lifting uselessly out of your slippers and your eyes are glassing at the fullness.
“God,” he groans, hips flush to your ass. “You always—fuck—you always feel like you’re gonna break me.”
“Move,” you whisper. “Move.”
He does. He draws back slow and drives in like he’s remembering exactly where every nerve in you lives. The chair rocks. The ring light—off—throws a thin halo of plastic in the corner of your vision. The whole room smells like him, like warm skin, like cologne and desk wood and the clean spice of his shampoo from the shower he took between games two and three while you laid on his bed and scrolled the thirst in his comments.
You’re so far gone you don’t even hear the soft click of a key.
But you do hear him chuckle.
“You should see the chat,” he says casually, voice a little too calm for the way he’s driving into you. “They’re losing their minds over how good your ass looks like this.”
Your stomach drops—and clenches at the same time.
“What?” you gasp, trying to look back.
He presses a firm hand to the back of your neck, not rough, just enough to keep your gaze forward. “Stream’s live, baby,” he murmurs, breath hot at your ear. “Mic’s off, but they can see everything. Every bounce, every curve. You should see what they’re typing.”
Your pulse slams into overdrive. You don’t know whether to pull away or melt deeper into the armrest. Your face burns—shame or lust or both, you can’t tell. Your body, traitorous and lit up, clamps around him.
“Fuck—” he hisses, digging his fingers into your hips. “See? You like it.”
You do. God help you, you do.
He pulls out just far enough to make you whimper, then snaps his hips back in. The chair creaks. You brace yourself on the armrests, flushed and panting.
“Want to hear what they’re saying?” he asks, and you shake your head before you can stop yourself. You don’t want to know—but you need to.
He doesn’t wait for permission.
“‘Her body’s insane.’” Another thrust. “‘Bounce that shit again, bro, PLEASE.’” He laughs, low and breathless. “Oh, here’s a good one—‘Whoever she is, she’s built to be fucked like this.’”
You make a sound that’s not a word. Your thighs tremble.
“And this one…” He leans in, voice dropping, almost sweet. “‘God, imagine being buried in that ass while she just takes it.’”
You clench around him so hard he groans, the rhythm faltering for a second.
“You like them watching,” he says, not a question. “You like them talking about your body like it’s theirs.”
Your face is hot. You want to deny it—but your body’s giving you away with every arch, every moan, every desperate push back onto him.
One more thrust, deep enough to knock the breath from your lungs.
"Say it," he growls into your neck. "Say you like it."
You bite your lip, hard enough to sting. You don’t want to say it. Don’t want to give him that satisfaction.
But you’re too far gone. Your body’s already betrayed you—slick, shaking, wrecked around him.
“I… I like it,” you gasp. It comes out small, strangled.
He doesn’t let that slide.
“Louder.”
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut, and he rewards you with another punishing thrust, angled cruelly perfect.
“Say it.”
“I like it,” you cry out, louder this time, shameless and breathless.
His breath catches at your ear. “You like being watched,” he murmurs. “You like knowing they’re out there jerking off to you. You like being my fuckshow.”
You sob—half denial, half raw pleasure—as he drives into you again, unforgiving.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Show them what you were made for.”
He sets a rhythm that’s crueler than fast. It’s measured, punishing only in how generous it feels. He pulls you open, seats you down, grinds there just long enough to make you gasp, then does it again. The sound of it is filthy—wet, honest, a slap where your bodies meet. He breathes through his teeth and presses a kiss to your shoulder like penance.
“Look up,” he says.
You do—barely, dizzy from the rhythm—but it’s not a mirror he’s pointing to. It’s the screen. The stream. Comments flying, hearts pulsing in the corner, proof that they’re still watching. All of them. Still there. Still starving.
You see your own reflection too, flushed and wrecked, mouth parted, eyes glazed.
“Turn the mic on,” you whisper.
He stills.
“What?” His voice is hoarse, disbelieving.
You swallow hard. “I want them to hear.”
Something in him snaps.
He reaches out without breaking rhythm, flicks the switch. The mic comes alive with a soft click—then the sound of your breath, ragged and exposed, fills the room.
“There,” he says, low and sharp. “Now they can hear every little noise you make when I fuck you like this.”
He slams in deep, once, just to make you cry out—and the mic catches all of it. Your moan, raw and helpless. The wet drag of him moving inside you. The slap, over and over. It’s obscene. Intimate. Broadcasting everything.
“Let ‘em hear how wet you are,” he growls. “How much you need it. You think they’re jerking off now? Baby, they’re obsessed. You’re giving them everything.”
You can’t respond—your body’s too busy pulsing around him, chasing friction, falling apart.
“You hear that?” he says, voice dropping to a dark purr. “That’s the sound of a good girl getting fucked exactly how she needs. Let them memorize it.”
He thrusts harder now, the rhythm vicious but controlled. Every moan he rips from you goes straight to the mic. Every gasp, every curse, every half-sob.
“They’ll never touch you. Never have you. But they’ll remember this. Every sound. Every second.”
You whimper, trembling, close again—too close.
He grins against your skin. "Tell me what you're thinking."
“I’m thinking,” you say, and then you break off with a strangled noise because his hips punch forward and flatten you right over the chair arm, your breath knocked clean out of your lungs.
He doesn’t ease up.
“You’re thinking what?” he presses, voice tight. “That you love being used like this? That you love being their fucking fantasy?”
You try to speak, but it’s useless—he’s fucking the words out of you. All that comes is a moan, high and broken.
“No hiding,” he growls. “Say it.”
“I—fuck—I’m thinking I want them to hear me come.”
That stops him for half a second. Then his fingers dig in like he's grounding himself, like your words did something to him he wasn’t ready for.
And then he starts moving again—harder, sharper, relentless.
“They will,” he promises, breath ragged. “Loud and clear, baby. You're gonna come with my cock buried in you and your voice in their ears like a goddamn prayer.”
You sob—needy, aching—and ride the edge, everything in you pulled tight and trembling.
“They’ll dream about this,” he says, right into the mic now, filthy and unrepentant. “Every night. Wishing it was them. Wishing they could make you sound like this.”
He reaches around, fingers sliding down to where you're slick and aching, rubbing circles that make your thighs shake.
“Let go,” he orders. “Show them what it's like when you come on me.”
You don’t stand a chance. “Haechan—don’t—”
“Don’t what?” He laughs softly into your hair. “Don’t stop? Don’t make you come yet?” The hand at your throat slides and tilts your chin a fraction, like he’s forcing you to look at the lens. “Tell them.”
“Fuck you,” you gasp.
“You’re doing great,” he says cheerfully, and then he swats your ass with his free hand in a sharp, quick slap that makes you jerk forward. Heat blooms under your skin where he touched. You whimper.
He pets the sting. “So jumpy,” he croons. “So loud for me. You going to be good and come when I tell you?”
You nod. “Yes,” you breathe, and you mean it, you’d sign anything with your pulse.
“Good girl.”
He changes the angle. It’s small—an inch of adjustment, a nudge at your knee, a tug at your hip—and then he’s right there, fucking into the soft spot that turns your spine to wire and your breath to smoke. You make a noise you don’t recognize and he laughs, delighted, chasing that sound again and again, relentless now in the way only he knows how to be. The chair protests. The desk shivers.
“You’re—” He breaks off, jaw tight against your shoulder. “You’re squeezing me. You close?”
“Mh—mmh—yes—”
“Hold it,” he says, and the command is bright as a match struck in the dark. You clamp your teeth and shake, hovering there at the precipice, every muscle singing with the want to tip. He doesn’t let you. He keeps you right where he wants you with his palm at your hip and the low sweet encouragement of his mouth at your ear. “You can take it. I know you can. You’re my best girl, yeah? You can hold it.”
You whine. He’s merciless. He loves this power—loves when you give it to him. You do. You always do. Your thighs tremble, your nails bite the chair, your vision goes buzzy at the edges.
“Please,” you hear yourself say. “Please, Haechan, please.”
He grunts, hips stuttering a fraction. “Fuck, baby. You make me crazy when you beg.” He drags his thumb up, finds your clit, and you yelp at the contact, full-body wrecked and grateful and so close you could cry. “Breathe for me. There you go.” Two strokes. Three. “Now.”
You come like your whole body has been waiting on permission. It’s sharp and hot and mean, tension snapping all at once into a pulse that rips a sound straight out of you. His name is one syllable, then two, then something that isn’t language at all while your muscles clench around him and you feel him thicken inside you with a choked curse. He keeps fucking you through it, rougher now, chasing his own edge, the rhythm losing its polish and becoming pure need.
“Where—” he pants, broken, “—where do you want me?”
“Inside,” you gasp. “Inside, inside—”
He swears, deep and filthy, and grabs you. The hand on your throat slides to your chest, pulls you back into him as he buries himself to the hilt and breaks with a stuttering groan that you feel more than hear. His mouth opens against your shoulder; his breath goes harsh; his hips lock and spasm, again, again, your name ragged on his tongue like he’s forgotten there were ever other words.
Then it’s quiet. Just breathing. Heat.
He pulls out slow, careful, and drops a line of kisses down your spine, soft now. Like you didn’t just let him wreck you on camera. Like he’s grateful.
Then you feel him move—and before you can stop him, he’s got a hand in your hair, tilting your head toward the camera.
“Give it up for Y/N, everybody,” he says, voice hoarse but smug. “Absolute fucking menace.”
The chat explodes.
parkourjisung: BRO I JUST SAW GOD
markiplierlee: she needs a trophy and a chiropractor
jen099: is she accepting applications for a fan club???
nanajaem: i came so hard i saw my ex and apologized
He grins, reading.
“Jesus. You broke the horny part of the internet.”
You’re still panting, still trying to blink back into your body, and all he does is laugh, lean into the mic, and say:
“Thanks for watching. Go hydrate, you filthy degenerates.”