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mdianasims · 2 months

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He has traveled around the worlds and collected many memories and keepsakes. He made many friends along the way while he did both mundane and epic heroic things. And in every town there was another lover (or two) to be left behind.

You all know we're talking about Icarus Ibarra, Iker for friends (and he has many - one cheerful introduction and you're BFFs). His recent adventures made him realise that it might be time to settle down. And that doesn't mean he won't be going from world to world anymore. He will, he'd just prefer to do it with that one special someone by his side. And what better way than to find that someone in style?

Watcher Studios Inc presents...

SUBMISSIONS ARE OPEN Deadline: Soon(ish) More info under the cut.

We probably don't really need to introduce our bachelor, but here's a quick recap:

Full name: Icarus Nicodemo Ibarra Reyes Age: 28 (young adult) Traits: Romantic, Music Lover, Bro, Active, High Metabolism Aspirations: Party Animal, Romantic Explorer Likes: Activities - Dancing, Fitness, Gardening Guitar, Handiness, Mixology, Photography, Snowboarding Colour - Blue, Green, Yellow Music - Alternative, Latin, Latin Pop, METAL, Singer Songwriter We're not sharing compatibility likes/dislikes or turn-on/turn-offs (TOTOs), because that would take the fun out of the challenge.

In case you're not entirely up to speed on Iker's previous adventures, you can find them here.

Still interested? Good. If you want to apply, these are the essentials:

Read the rest of this post carefully. If you still want to enter your Sim after reading, then comment that you want to submit a sim.

I've made another post that further specifies some choices you have. I'm asking you to prepare this before submitting your Sim. That will make it easier for me to play it out when it comes up in my game. I know it looks like a lot, but all you need to do is make a Sim, dress them nicely and make a few choices. Then I'll do the hard work.

This is The Grand Scheme. Save the link, it'll be handy when you create your Sim. And even if you do not intend to submit a contestant, I don't mind sharing my nefarious plans ;)

There's a maximum of 12 participants (and a minimum of 7 or it'll mess up the schedule), first come, first served. One of these spots has been reserved for @zosa95. Because, if I hadn't submitted Iker's sister Neia to Branson's Bachelor Challenge, I would not have had Iker. It seemed only fair to do this in return.

Practical considerations:

No CC (minor exceptions: x and x)

I have all packs except Batuu. As for CAS Kits, I only have Simtimates and Moonlight Chic.

You will need Growing Together and Lovestruck for the personality likes and TOTOs. If you do not have these packs, you can still participate. You just need to let me know how you want to fill these and I can set them for you once your Sim is in my game.

1. Requirements:

Age: Young adult (give a 'real life' age if you like, anything from 18 to 30 is acceptable).

Gender: Male or Female.

Pronouns: No custom pronouns that are intended to be silly (such as 'His Evil Highness' or 'Her Colourful Ladyship' or whatever you would use to refer to your favourite pet (or Sim)). This is basically to prevent me from making mistakes while posting. Too many different pronouns and it's gonna go wrong at some point. Please use something short (and easy to remember).

Sexual Orientation: Must be romantically attracted to and interested in woohoo with men (whatever else you check, is your choice).

Romantic Boundaries: Set them as you like, Iker's player trait should overrule it (if not, I'll set everything to no jealousy).

Occult: Human preferred. No Werewolves, Vampires or Aliens (Iker is still processing the Moonwood adventure, which also made him hate vampires. After StrangerVille, though unfounded, aliens are bit of a touchy subject too).

Traits: Bro and Unflirty are not allowed (there's a rule about bros, and unflirty will just make it incredibly hard for your Sim).

Likes/dislikes:

No more than 2 music likes (because those still dominate wants).

Decor and Fashion are optional (i.e.: Dream Home Decorator and High School Years are not required).

Conversation Topics and Sim Characteristics are required to be set.

TOTOs:

Way of Life and Characteristics are required to be set.

Romance styles: 2 turn ons and 1 turn off, the other 2 will be neutral (I'll do this for Iker too, for a more interesting experience).

Hair Colour: Black hair turn on is advised.

Outfit colour/Fashion categories are optional.

Your Sim can be CAS created or born in game, skills are allowed, there won't be skill based challenges. They can have additional self-discovery traits if you've played them. However: the romance skill and hidden woohoo skill are banned (Iker doesn't have those either, yet) and charisma is capped off at lvl 3.

Fame is not allowed - I'll just keep all Sims out of the spotlight.

2. Outfits:

There will be lots of themed parties, outings and dates, so I've got an entire outfit scheme set up. To give you a chance to express your Sim's personality through their outfit choices (and get creative with NoCC CAS).

First, look up the outfits on The Grand Scheme. Then choose one of the following:

Easy Street: Set your Sim's standard oufit for each category, copy it to all listed slots. Then adjust the two mandatory second outfits.

The Middle Road: Do as above, adjust any other oufits you like.

All the Way: Set all oufits as requested.

Know that not all of these outfits will be used if your Sim is eliminated early on. But hey, at least you'll get a nice NoCC lookbook from it! Another thing to keep in mind (though entirely optional), the show (mostly) takes place in Ciudad Enamorada and Oasis Springs in Spring and Summer. So, big fluffy sweaters might look a bit out of place. If you accidentally use an item from a Kit that I do not have, I will try to replace it with something similar. If you do not set outfits for the themed activities, I will dress your Sim as I see fit.

3. Dates:

For three of the dates, there's a choice to be made by the contestant. Look this up in The Grand Scheme and let me know through DM what your Sim would choose for their perfect date(s).

4. One Final Question:

In case your Sim is eliminated, should they:

be returned to you (I'll save your Sim after elimination and upload the tray files and send you a private link);

live on in my save file;

be deleted;

remain in limbo forever (I'll store the tray files somewhere)?

Not answering this question defaults in the last option.

I know this is a lot. I hope you are not deterred by it. I just want to do something interesting with the new date system. And then this massive plan formed and now I'm stuck with it.

Anyway you have at least until 21 September 2024 to submit your Sim. If you need more time, or I'm not ready with the preparations, that date may move to somewhere in October.

Let me know in the comments and/or through DM if you want to submit a Sim. I'll put your name on the list. If I've added your name to the list and you no longer can/want to submit a Sim, let me know. There might be someone else who can take your place.

If you have any additional questions, do let me know. (if you think I've made any weird typos, let me know as well. I've checked the post a several times, but something might still have slipped).

Thanks for reading and I hope you're as excited about this as I am!

#sims 4 #ts4 #simblr #ts4 bachelor challenge #ts4 lovestruck #iker ibarra #iatw8 #cityinlovebc

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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 8 months

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pretty boy | jeonghan

I can't help myself from writing enemies to lovers Jeonghan, because he provides the source material himself. Also big thanks to Hani @vanillacheol for letting me use her name and likeness to a) provide our MC with a bestie and b) provide Seungcheol with a girlfriend. Anyway, here are the details: Word count: 8.3k Summary: After a complicated first date, you swear to hate Jeonghan forever, but fate has other plans >:) Genre: E2L, academic rivals to lovers, royalty au kind of, college au kind of Warnings: reader is referred to using feminine pronouns and other identifiers, reader is mentioned to be wearing a skirt and a gown on separate instances, Jeonghan calls reader "princess" a lot (because she is), there are pranks mentioned, pressure to choose someone to marry is mentioned, lots of name-calling, a couple of arguments, lots of kissing, some suggestive language, some brief actual bullying (not between Jeonghan and MC), long-hair Jeonghan (def needs a warning), and Jeonghan is an absolute menace as per usual.

“Are you listening to me?” your friend Hani asks, bringing you back down to earth.

The truth is, you hadn’t been listening to her at all. You’d been miles away in your mind, daydreaming of home. “I’m sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Would you mind repeating?”

Hani rolls her eyes. “I was asking,” she says pointedly, “if you’ve got a flight for my birthday ball yet.”

“Of course,” you reply. “Why?”

She fidgets nervously — a telltale sign she’s hiding something. “Oh, no reason,” she says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

Your grin drops. “He’s coming,” you realize. “Jeonghan is coming to your birthday ball after all.”

“I know what you’re going to say, and I need you to be rational about it. Jeonghan is Seungcheol’s best friend, and I couldn’t just not invite him.” Hani plays with her pearl bracelet, a gift from her boyfriend, and avoids eye contact with you. She’s gotten more assertive since she started her relationship with Seungcheol, the prince of a nearby country, who’d fallen in love with your friend at freshman orientation at your posh private college. They’d been together for a year and a half, and six months ago she never would’ve said any of that to you, carefully concealing her real feelings behind a placid smile.

It’s for this reason you’re grateful for Seungcheol. He’s helped your friend feel confident and strong, and you can tell how much he loves her. He’s also kind and thoughtful and genuine and funny, very down-to-earth despite being a prince, and full of good advice when you need it. Becoming his friend has been a huge perk of the relationship he has with Hani.

The one major downside? Yoon Jeonghan. He’s Seungcheol’s best friend from home, the son of a high-ranking military leader in Seungcheol’s home country, and apparently they were raised like brothers. Unlike sweet and harmless Seungcheol, though, Jeonghan is a devil in disguise. Blessed with the face of a fairy prince, with intellect to match, he was confident to the point of arrogance and seemed to always get exactly what he wanted. He could sweet-talk even the strictest professors into extending deadlines just for him, and had a penchant for connecting especially accommodating students and teachers to job opportunities and networking events and even really nice favors — once he paid for one of the school secretaries to fly to a tropical island with her new husband just because she straightened out an attendance issue for him.

You had butt heads with Jeonghan almost upon first sight, which had coincidentally been on a date that Hani insisted you go on. “You’ll love him,” she had oozed.

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to fulfill your lifelong dream of us dating brothers?” you’d grumbled, trying to avoid showing how nervous you’d been.

“They’re not really brothers,” Hani had reminded you, “but of course I would love it if you dated Jeonghan for real. He’s perfect for you, trust me.”

She’d had to eat her words when you came home from the date soaked to the bone, a murderous glare in your eyes. “He is without a doubt the most bull-headed, self-important, cocky, absolutely despicable human being I’ve ever met. I never want to see him again,” you’d fumed.

“What happened?” Hani had exclaimed, rushing to grab you a towel. She listened sympathetically as you recounted how it had all gone down.

It had actually started off well. Jeonghan struck you as the kind of person who could make a brick wall feel clever and important, and he was a perfect gentleman at first. He’d even addressed you as “my lady”, a reference to your position as eldest princess of a small island country, until you begged him to relax, but the level of decorum he’d approached you with had bolstered your confidence a bit.

“So...princess,” he’d said cautiously after you’d insisted he call you by your name, and you’d rolled your eyes at this. “How’s the island these days?”

“Are you asking me about foreign policy on our date?” you had asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I’m asking you about your home,” he’d countered. “What’s it like there? It’s one of the few places I’ve never been.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyes lit up. “Well, it’s much warmer than it is here.”

“Naturally,” Jeonghan had said. “Do you miss that?”

“More than anything,” you’d said, frowning at the snow falling in soft piles outside. “Near the palace is this one stretch of beach -- you sort of have to hike through a small jungle to get there, but nothing too bad, you know -- and when it snows like this I have to remind myself that it still exists and I can go back there one day.”

Jeonghan grinned. “What does it look like?”

“Well, there’s a thick treeline since it’s just past the woods, but that means it’s very private. It’s got the most beautiful sand -- it’s pink!”

“Pink sand?” Jeonghan had repeated, his head propped up by one hand as he gazed at you, rambling on excitedly.

“Yeah, it’s from a micro-organism that lives in the coral reefs that grow around the island. There are a few different pink beaches on our island, but this one is special. Hardly anyone knows about it. Seokmin -- my cousin, you know, the theater major -- found it first, and I’ve been going there ever since.” You caught sight of him watching you and felt your face heat up. “Uh, sorry. I got carried away.”

“No, no, it was cute,” he reassured you, which made you feel even more embarrassed.

“What about you?” you had asked, and you’d listened with rapt attention as Jeonghan had described the mountainous region he hailed from, with so many clever little asides that made you laugh. You were generally more of a “black cat” type personality, but Jeonghan was bringing out an eager, girlish side of you that almost no one got to see. He made you feel like your blood had become carbonated -- like little tiny bubbles were flowing all over your body, all tingly and excited.

The conversation had lasted hours, covering everything from your families (yours was close, his was rather distant) to your favorite foods (seafood for you, fried chicken for him) to the most unusual kinds of music you liked (film scores for you, musical theater songs for him). Finally, with all your food eaten and the drinks all but drained from their fancy bottles, it had come time to talk about education. “If you weren’t a princess, what would you be studying?” Jeonghan had asked.

“I think I would still want to learn about public policy, especially as it relates to nonprofits,” you had replied. “At my core, I want to use what I know to help others, and there’s almost no easier way to do that than improve the legal conditions for charity work.”

Jeonghan nodded thoughtfully. “You might be the biggest nerd I’ve ever met,” he finally said with a grin.

You had gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “Even bigger than you, Mr. Political Science?”

He shook his head. “Imagine how cool I’d have to actually be to be studying poli-sci and still be considered cool.”

“Oh, are you considered cool?” you’d teased. “I hadn’t heard that.” (Which was a lie. When a girl in your dorm had found out who you were going on the date with, she’d almost keyed your car out of jealousy. Jeonghan was notoriously cool.)

He clapped a hand over his chest. “Please don’t wound me like this. My reputation is all I have.”

You looked him up and down in the way that tabloid articles had called your “man-eater move.” “Just your reputation, pretty boy?” you questioned lightly. “How disappointing.”

Jeonghan’s eyes got wide, but he recovered quickly. “I actually have one more thing. Way more important than my reputation.” He said it so seriously that you leaned forward in interest.

“What is it?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He leaned forward to match you and whispered in your ear softly, “A fully completed Death Star Lego set.”

And you had burst into laughter. People were generally easy for you to read, but Jeonghan took you by surprise every time. The rest of the meal was full of giggles and simmering tension. More than once you caught yourself staring at him and wondering what it’d be like to kiss the smirk right off his gorgeous face.

Which is how you found yourself in the custodian closet at that very restaurant twenty minutes later doing exactly that.

He had begun it -- suggesting a quick bathroom break that you somehow understood with your eyes, and on your way in he’d pulled you right into that tiny closet and pressed his mouth to yours like it might be the last thing he ever did. You were surprised at how strong this lithe boy was as his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands tightening into fists around the fabric of your skirt at your hips as he pressed you up against one of the shelves, knocking several bottles of cleaning wipes onto the floor. You had gasped and pulled away, just enough that you could look at him. “Careful, pretty boy,” you’d hummed breathlessly as you pulled him back for more, and he’d groaned.

“Call me that one more time, princess, I dare you,” he’d murmured against your lips.

“Is that a threat?” you’d whispered back, knotting your fingers into his long hair, perfectly content to let him do whatever it was he’d had in mind.

But then his cellphone, which had somehow slipped out of his pocket onto the floor, rang. Loudly. You both dived for it, worried that someone would hear, and you reached it first. After silencing it, you saw a familiar notification pop up on Jeonghan’s phone.

“No way!” you’d exclaimed quietly. “Are you in Exploration of Debate?” It was an online class you were taking as a general, where you posted anonymously on an online debate forum. The person with the highest number of won debates was the person with the highest grade, and to your chagrin, you were in second place after a devastating loss to “TwinkleToes17”. In fact, so ruthless was TwinkleToes that they’d gained a reputation outside the class as someone who was a pure psychopath, willing and ready to twist every word to their advantage. It seemed like everyone on campus had heard of this person.

Which is why you’d burst out of the closet two minutes after. “I can’t believe this,” you’d yelled, not caring that the other restaurant patrons and the wait staff were staring at you. You’d ripped your coat off your chair, grabbed your bag, and ran out into the wet, snowy evening, Jeonghan hot on your trail.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. It’s a class,” he’d insisted, jogging to keep up with your dramatic pace, a laugh in his voice that only made your anger more overwhelming.

“Okay, firstly, even outside the class everyone knows you’re a monster,” you’d said. “And secondly, you manipulated me and twisted every word that I said to win that debate.” The third thing, which you hadn’t said, is that you couldn’t bear looking stupid in front of anyone, even if no one knew it was you. Mistaken, fine. Naive, sure. But never stupid.

And Jeonghan had made you look really stupid.

So you’d ignored his repeated calls after you, until he’d finally got frustrated and stopped following you. You’d walked the entire five kilometers home in the snow, arriving soaked and cold and grumpier than you’d possibly ever been. Worse was when you shared classes with Jeonghan for the next two semesters, unraveling your plan to never see him again.

When recounting this story to Hani, you left out the part about the short-lived makeout session in the closet and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you. You, instead, focused on the massive betrayal of learning about his online activities, Hani had scolded you for being too stubborn, prideful, and competitive, and that had been the end of it.

But the true rivalry had begun six months ago. You had had to go over to Seungcheol’s apartment to take care of Hani while he was away. Hani usually stayed at his place when she was sick, mainly because Seungcheol was the world’s biggest worrywart and called her constantly when he couldn’t be there while she wasn’t feeling her best.

So you had driven to his place, to hopefully ease some of her suffering (and Seungcheol’s), completely forgetting who he lived with. To your shock, it was Jeonghan who answered the door. “Ah, princess,” he’d exclaimed. “Welcome.”

The way he’d beamed when he saw you was infuriating. Peeking around his shoulder, you made venomous eye contact with Hani, who was sitting in a heap on the couch, her eyes red and watery with her illness. “How are you?” you asked, pointedly stepping around Jeonghan to go to her.

“I’m suffering,” she said. “But Jeonghan has been taking really good care of me.”

“Has he, now,” you’d said in a deadpan voice.

“Well, now that you’re here, I need to run some errands,” Jeonghan had said, quickly excusing himself to go to the grocery store. You had tended to Hani while he left, not turning when he’d called a goodbye over his shoulder as he stepped out into the night.

Watching Hani was mostly uneventful. You brought her water when she finished her glass and watched TV together until Seungcheol came back. As you’d stood up to leave Hani and Seungcheol, who were snuggled together on the couch, Hani asked if you would grab the ibuprofen out of Jeonghan’s bathroom.

You had been surprised (and a little annoyed) at how clean it was inside, but he had left his toothbrush out on the counter, which immediately made you think of the fluorescent blue dye you had in your bag that you had needed for a recent experiment in your geology class. The dye, coincidentally, was colorless until it reacted to saliva, and stained everything around it a shocking shade of blue for several hours before fading completely. You had tried to be good, you really had -- you’d almost left the bathroom without doing anything to the toothbrush -- but there was a petty streak in you that desperately wanted Jeonghan to feel even one bit as foolish as he’d made you feel. Plus, when were you ever going to get an opportunity like this again?

This had been the beginning of the prank war between you and Jeonghan. The following week, you’d come home to a flock of confused pigeons trapped in your apartment. “Where did he even get a flock of pigeons?” you had muttered as you mopped your hardwood floors free of all the lingering gifts that the birds had left for you.

“Beats me,” Hani said, spraying your tabletop with cleanser. “But I think this is a good learning experience for you. Jeonghan is really sweet, but he’s competitive, and he’ll do anything to win.”

“Oh, but I’m the exact same way,” you’d told her with a grim determination.

And so, it had continued. One week you were swapping out Jeonghan’s bar of soap for one that was almost identical but had a particularly itchy ingredient, the next week Jeonghan rearranged the letters on your keyboard and made it nearly impossible for you to finish your assignments in time, the week following you stole his textbooks and replaced them with poorly written erotic novels.

The pranks had only escalated the academic rivalry you’d had, especially as the two of you had striven to derail the other. When the exam results came out, you were elated to learn that despite Jeonghan’s efforts, you had come out of the semester at the top of the class — with Jeonghan just below you at number 2, by .02 points. Now, as you were about to fly to Hani’s birthday ball during spring break, your elation has been crushed. “Are you still going to come?” Hani asks, giving you her big sad eyes that you can’t say no to.

And because this is Hani, who knows you better than anyone and has always been there for you, you already know what you have to say. “Of course I’m going to come,” you reassure her. “It’s your birthday. I suppose I knew he’d probably end up deciding to come. But I’ll be darned if I let a man get between us.” You can’t suppress an eye roll. “Especially not that man.”

“You’re the best!” Hani exclaims. “Do you have a dress yet?”

“I have a few options,” you say. “I’ll take them with me so we can try things on together and you can help me choose.” You grin at her squeal of delight and try not to think about all the strategizing you’re going to have to do to avoid Jeonghan at the ball.

******

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groan.

Jeonghan grins from the seat beside yours. “What? Did you want the window seat?” he asks, pointing out the small window of the airplane. It’s one of those huge jets with two stories, built for a seventeen-hour flight across the world, and yet, of all the seats you could be sitting in, of course Jeonghan is sitting in the next one over.

You huff as you sit down. “Why didn’t you fly with Cheol?”

“He flew with Hani,” Jeonghan replies. “I didn’t want to third-wheel for that many hours in a row.”

That’s honestly pretty fair, but you can’t let him see you agree, so you roll your eyes. “Well, this is actually good. I needed to talk to you.”

“About?”

“The ball. We have to call a truce on our war.”

“Our war?” Jeonghan repeats with a raised eyebrow.

You clear your throat. “Our...rivalry.”

“I would call it a ‘friendly competition’,” he tells you.

“It’s really not that friendly,” you snap, and rifle in your bag for your headphones. “And it doesn’t matter what you call it, we just need to be well-behaved and civil during the ball because I will not have you or anyone else ruining Hani’s birthday party.”

“Well, I can’t promise to be well-behaved, but I promise I won’t ruin Hani’s party,” he comforts.

You shake your head. “I guess that’s the best I could really hope for,” you grumble. Unable to locate your headphones, you toss your bag under your seat in frustration.

“What did that poor bag ever do to you?” Jeonghan asks.

“I can’t find my headphones,” you hiss.

“I brought an extra pair.”

You stare at him. “You did not.”

“I truly, truly did,” he says. “Would you like to use them?”

“What will it cost me?”

“Nothing,” he says, grinning. “Let’s call it a mark of our truce.” He pulls them out of his bag and hands them to you, and you accept them, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Do they zap your ears when you put them in?” you ask nervously.

“No,” he says, taking one bud and putting it in his own ear. “Just regular old headphones.”

So you put one of them in, bracing yourself. Nothing happens, but the way Jeonghan is watching you is making you worried. “Forgive me if I’m a little wary after the pen incident.” (You were, of course, referring to a prank Jeonghan had pulled where he had replaced your pen with one that shocked you at random intervals.)

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m not trying to make your life miserable, princess. Actually, right now, I’m trying to make your life easier.” He leans back against his seat’s headrest and closes his eyes. “It’s not going to kill you to trust me a little.”

You shoot him a dubious look before acquiescing, slipping the other bud into your ear. No shock. You decide he’s probably telling the truth, and you listen to an audiobook while you wait for the plane to take off.

Hours later, after you’ve watched the sunset fade to black outside Jeonghan’s window, and after watching two movies and dozing off during a third, you jolt awake to a sudden dip of the plane. Blinking rapidly, you try to make sense of your surroundings, and the first thing you register is a hand clasping your own.

You look over, mortified, to see Jeonghan staring at you. But instead of the sneer you expected, his expression is serious and kind. “Are you okay?” he asks, squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“I’m fine,” you say, although your voice is shaking and you can’t bring yourself to let go of his hand even though it’s embarrassing.

“You’re scared of flying?” he asks you quietly.

“Not enough to not do it,” you reply. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes that makes you think that you’ve stepped outside the incessant teasing that has been the hallmark of your relationship with this man, but you find yourself saying, “I feel like I should be used to it already.” Immediately you begin to worry about how Jeonghan might use this weakness against you, but he just looks at you.

“Well, if it makes any difference,” he finally says, “you’re handling it pretty well.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

This is just too weird. The weirdest part is, it doesn’t feel weird at all -- not talking with him, not holding his hand, not even the way he looks at you. For a second, you remember how intently Jeonghan had listened to you speak at that dinner all those months ago. This seems much more like the person you thought he was before you’d found out he’d destroyed you in an anonymous online debate. And, terrifyingly, this was a person you could see yourself falling deeply into, with no hope of escape.

The plane lurches again, and you close your eyes and breathe deeply through your nose. A low chuckle from Jeonghan makes you shoot him an annoyed look.

He shrugs. “Sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to laugh at you, I’m just surprised.”

“Why?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“Because,” he says, as though choosing his words very carefully. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who’s scared of anything.”

His tone is -- dare you say it? -- respectful, almost awed, full of admiration.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you remind him, swallowing nervously.

He purses his lips. “Sad, but true.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He leans back in his seat again, closing his eyes. “Figure it out, princess,” he whispers, before falling asleep with your hand clenched around his.

******

The night before the ball, you’re on a video chat with your little sister when your dad enters the frame.

“How’s my girl doing?” the king asks, and you have to smile. Your dad is really an amazing leader, and an even better dad.

“I’m good,” you say. “Just three more days before I’m home!”

“We’re so excited to have you back,” your sister chimes in, and your dad nods enthusiastically.

“Can I have a word with your sister?” your dad asks her, and she skips away with a quick “bye!”

“What’s up?” you ask.

“There’s been a little bit of tension on the mainland lately,” your dad confesses. “Nothing too concerning, but we want to nip it in the bud. I think it’s time for you to think about your future.”

You know when he says “future” he means “marriage”, and your heart sinks. As the eldest child, you will inherit the crown once your father retires. His hair and beard are grayer every time you see him, and you’ve known for awhile that he’s feeling a bit exhausted. “I am thinking about it,” you admit. “I’ve been going on dates.”

“Anything promising?” your dad asks hopefully.

You fiddle with your shirt hem, hesitating before you answer. The truth is, only one date you’ve been on since college is memorable at all. You try not to think about Jeonghan’s smirk and the way he’d made you laugh and holding his hand on basically the entire seventeen-hour flight over and most importantly his lips against yours in that dusty custodian’s closet before shaking your head. “Not really,” you confess. “Most politicians are really boring.”

Your dad scoffs. “Tell me about it.” He sighs. “Well, I’m not trying to force you into anything, but maybe the ball can be a good networking event for you. I heard that Prince Chan will be there.”

Prince Chan was internationally famous for being a real-life “Prince Charming” -- the perfect gentleman, always smiling, handsome as a fairytale prince. Your country was off his country’s southern coast, so his home was close to yours. “That might be a good political move.”

“And Prince Seungcheol will be there, and the general’s son, I forget his name...” Your dad trails off, but you know who he means, and you rush to put an end to those thoughts.

“Seungcheol is dating Hani,” you remind your dad quickly. “And Jeonghan -- the general’s son -- is...not an option either.”

“Okay,” your dad says, not catching the unspoken information in your tone. “Well, you’ll have boots on the ground, so just try, okay? And we can talk about it when you get back.”

You finish your talk and hang up, looking up at the vaulted ceiling of your guest bedroom in Hani’s parents’ palace. It was a curse to be the heir to the throne sometimes. The weight of your mantle was often so heavy it felt crushing. Your country was a small one, inhabited by gentle people. Military power, the nuances of war, conquest — none of these things were built into your culture. You weren’t sure what you’d do if things went south.

Sighing, you head to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. When you emerge from your shower and as you’re brushing your hair, the wind starts to pick up from outside. By the time you get into bed, a storm is raging outside. This, coupled with the thoughts swirling relentlessly around you head, has you thoroughly wound up and incapable of sleeping.

So you wrap yourself in a dressing gown and head up the corridor toward the spiral staircase that leads to the library. One thing that always helps you sleep is a familiar book. You wander between the dim shelves, only lit by a few strategically placed lamps, as the thunder gets louder and louder. Finally, you’re able to locate a copy of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s Secret Garden, which you take from the shelf, cozying up in a large armchair to read by one of the lamps.

A few pages in, you’re nearly startled to death by a voice from behind you. “What are you doing awake?”

You jump out of the chair and whirl around. “Jeonghan!” you whisper-shout. “For the love of all that is holy, you scared me.”

He gives a small smile. “Sorry, princess.” He’s also in his PJs, his shoulder-length hair still wet from a shower, and there are dark circles under his eyes that make him look more gaunt and melancholy than usual — a vampire rather than his standard fairy. It’s especially pronounced in the low lamplight.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says simply.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause you couldn’t sleep. I sensed you coming in here.”

You scoff. “What nonsense,” you say.

“I’m serious. We’re soulmates.” Jeonghan’s grin has turned sly.

“Don’t be difficult,” you snap. “Was there a real reason you wanted to share, or — ?”

But then a bolt of lightning briefly illuminates the library in bright white light. The following clap of thunder is so loud it seems to shake the library. Jeonghan cringes and claps his hands to his ears before eyeing you warily.

You point a finger at him. “You’re scared of thunderstorms?” you guess.

He blushes. “Scared is a strong word.”

He cowers as the lightning flashes again, plugging his ears preemptively to avoid the massive clap of thunder. “You’re totally terrified,” you say when he finally takes his fingers out of his ears. “Well, this is just perfect.”

“That seems like a strong word, too,” he grumbles, coming to sit in the chair next to yours. “Perfect, how?”

“Now I know your weakness, and you know mine,” you explain, turning your attention back to your book. “We’re even.”

You couldn’t be more shocked when Jeonghan snakes a cold hand onto your wrist. When you gape at him, he looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I held your hand during the turbulence,” he reminds you. “So this is actually how you get even.”

This is hard to argue with, so you just keep reading with his fingers wrapped around your hand. “Do what you need to do, pretty boy,” you sigh.

His sharp intake of air makes you look up from your book. “What?”

“You need to stop calling me that,” Jeonghan says quietly.

“Or what?” you say, shutting your book with a snap.

“Or I’ll lose my mind,” he says in a strained tone. His jaw is clenched, his cheeks are flushed, and his palm on your wrist has become clammy with sweat. “I thought it would be easier to be close to you, but you insist on making my life harder, don’t you?”

This hits you like a punch in the gut. Glaring, you wrench your hand from Jeonghan’s grasp. “You don’t have to talk to me, Jeonghan. It’s perfectly alright for you to ignore me if it’s that hard for you to stand interacting with me.” Suddenly the library doesn’t feel big enough for you and Jeonghan to occupy the space at the same time -- as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. You jump from the armchair and turn on your heel, your robe blowing out behind you.

But Jeonghan is following you again -- and it’s so reminiscent of that first night that you almost laugh. “I don’t understand how you’re not as tortured as I am,” he calls after you. “That’s part of what makes me so insane.”

“Who says I’m not? You’re absolutely agonizing to be around,” you shoot back over your shoulder.

“No, you don’t understand,” he says, and he catches you by the arm, whirling you around so that you face him. You try to shake free, but his grip is iron-strong. “It’s like you’re barely affected by my presence. You don’t feel this constant draw -- this constant need to --

“To what, Jeonghan?” you ask, taking a step forward. “Finish the sentence. To what?”

Your faces are inches apart, the tension between you so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Jeonghan flexes his jaw and swallows hard before his gaze flicks down to your lips. You’re breathing too hard, your pulse too quick, your face hot. He inches closer -- the tips of your noses nearly touching, and when he whispers, it’s in a husky tone that sends chills down your spine. “It’s impossible for me to understand how you don’t seem to think about what happened between us. For you, it’s like it never happened. For me...I think about it every day.”

He’s so close you can smell the peppermint toothpaste on his breath. So close that if you even slightly moved forward, your lips would meet.

And then lightning strikes again. Jeonghan lets go of your arm, takes a step back, nods to you like he would an acquaintance from class, and leaves you alone in the library, where you lean, trembling, against a bookshelf just as the more distant clap of thunder rings out. You have to place a hand over your chest to soothe the frantic beating of your heart. The rest of the night is sleepless -- you toss and turn, wondering what on earth has just happened between you and Jeonghan.

******

“Is Hani ready?” Seungcheol asks, meeting you halfway up the stairs.

“Almost,” you say, adjusting your pearl necklace so the clasp is in the back. “And she gave me explicit instructions that you are to stay at the bottom of the stairs. She wants that movie moment. And you are going to give it to her, because it’s her birthday.”

Seungcheol follows you back down the stairs. “So, Jeonghan’s been weird today,” he says, a question in his tone.

“He’s always weird,” you say shortly.

“Weirder than usual. You look great, by the way,” he tells you, gesturing at the glittering white dress you’re wearing. It hugs your frame with a corseted top, cascading like sea foam down your hips and ending in a train. Hani had picked it out, saying that it matched your small pearl-encrusted crown the best, but you also suspected that she knew it was your most devastating look.

“Thanks,” you say to Seungcheol. “Wait until you see Hani.”

He’s so down bad he even smiles just at the sound of her name. “I can’t wait.”

“And about Jeonghan,” you continue. “Did he tell you -- anything?”

Seungcheol gives you a stern look. “Should he have? Did anything happen last night?”

“There was a thunderstorm,” you say quickly.

“Ah,” Seungcheol says, his gaze a little too understanding. “Jeonghan is scared of thunderstorms.”

You nod, refusing to answer the question he isn’t asking. Luckily, you’re saved by the arrival of Hani at the top of the stairs, looking absolutely stunning in the prettiest blue dress. Seungcheol’s whole face transforms into a picture of joy. “Wow,” he breathes.

You can see her beaming from here. You decide to let them have their moment by themselves, and instead push through the magnificent double doors into the ballroom. As your eyes scan the crowd, you try to believe that you’re not looking for Jeonghan, but there has been a knot in your chest since last night, and you somehow sense he is the only person who can do anything about it. Before landing on Jeonghan, though, your eyes land on Prince Chan. You remember your dad’s request and plaster on your most winning smile as you approach him.

“Hello, Prince Chan,” you say, curtsying low to him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

He’s just as handsome as everyone has said, and he’s smiling just as kindly as you’d expect. “It’s a beautiful party,” he says. “The hostess is your best friend, right?”

“She is,” you confirm. “Princess Hani is wonderful. Have you ever met her?”

“Only a handful of times. We were kids,” he explains. “But everyone speaks highly of her.”

You nod. “So, how are things on the mainland?” you ask, changing the subject.

You pass a few pleasant minutes discussing his interests, the state of his country’s affairs, and you. After awhile, a very territorial woman comes to stand between you and Prince Chan, interrupting your conversation. He shoots you an apologetic look over her shoulder, and you wave him off with a small smile and a bow, backing away.

“Already causing problems, I see,” says a familiar voice.

You turn to see him -- Jeonghan, in his decorated military uniform, looking far more handsome and ethereal than he had any right to. You stick up your chin. “Well, it wasn’t my intention,” you say. “He was standing alone.”

“What a kind soul you are,” Jeonghan says drily as Hani makes her grand entrance.

You pause in your bickering to applaud her, beaming and embracing her as she comes to greet you. “Do you feel beautiful?” you ask her.

“Yes, I do,” she tells you. “Thank you for always being here.”

After she walks away to greet her other guests, you turn back to Jeonghan. “So, do you have anything else to say to me? Or do you have more pigeons to sedate and put in my bedroom?”

He grins. “As tempting as that is, I have plenty more to say to you.”

Just then, the music starts, and before Jeonghan can offer you his arm to escort you onto the floor, you are turning to the nearest passing gentleman and asking him to dance. Jeonghan follows suit, escorting a pretty redhead in a yellow dress into the space right beside you. As you begin the steps of the dance, you make polite conversation with your partner, whose name you have already forgotten. Jeonghan seems to be vaguely paying attention to his own partner as she rambles on good-naturedly, but his eyes never leave you. His scorching looks from across the dance column have heat rising in your cheeks and the back of your neck, and a funny swooping feeling in your stomach, almost like you’ve done a massive drop on a roller coaster.

At the end of the dance, you politely bow to your partner and are just about to scurry away when Jeonghan catches your hand. “One dance,” he begs. “Please.”

And his eyes are searing with some barely-concealed passion, his skin unnecessarily flushed and his jaw set in a hard line, and you open your mouth — to refuse him, you remind yourself — but nothing comes out, leaving Jeonghan free to pull you back into the dance floor and into his arms for the waltz.

You have done a simple waltz a thousand times — maybe hundreds of thousands at this point. Your feet are familiar with the steps and the turns. It’s simple enough to do. But waltzing with Jeonghan is like trying to speak a language you’ve never heard before. Pressed against his body, his hand burning into the small of your back through your dress, you find yourself unable to meet his eyes as he leads you through the steps. Something about him holding you like this is reminding you forcefully of that distant janitor’s closet, and this is making it impossible for you to look at him for fear of what it might do to you. So, with your heart pounding in your ears, you fixate on the top button of Jeonghan’s uniform and let him whirl you around, until it feels like everything else has faded away but the music and his arms around you. You can feel the weight of his gaze, but you don’t look up until the very last strains of the song are fading away.

And as you do, Jeonghan’s angelic face breaks into a smile that could make the devil repent. He’s so unbearably beautiful that you actually feel your breath hiss out of you, stolen by his smile. You realize that it doesn’t matter how much you pranked him or ignored him or rejected him or lied to yourself — there was absolutely nothing that could have kept you from falling in love with him.

Just at this moment of revelation, someone taps Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt,” Prince Chan says.

“It’s no trouble,” Jeonghan says. He’s still partially holding you in his arms, and you are still struggling to remember how to breathe, but Prince Chan seems not to notice or care.

“Would you mind if I had the next dance?” he asks, looking between the two of you.

You find it impossible to speak, so you just nod in assent. Jeonghan gives your hand to Chan, looking mildly crestfallen, and you try to get your crap together before the music starts.

You successfully collect yourself enough to look Prince Chan in the face. He’s smiling at you, but his eyes are a little too understanding. “Jeonghan’s great, huh?” he asks.

You try to laugh, but it comes out choked and awkward. “He’s a bit too charming for his own good,” is all you’re willing to admit.

Chan nods in agreement. “He’s interesting. Most people like to show their very best selves to others, and you find out the bad stuff the more you get to know them. But Jeonghan kind of does the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’ll be crafty and cunning up front, but he’s actually very kind. And you only get to see that if you get close to him.”

“How do you know?” you ask.

Chan glances over at Jeonghan. “I actually stayed with his family for a month while my mother was sick,” he explains. “Jeonghan had gone through something similar, and he was a big help to me. Of course he still drove me crazy sometimes,” he adds with a laugh, “but he’s solid gold all the way through. You just have to crack him open a bit to see it.”

You’re silent, chewing on this information, when all of a sudden, someone tosses the contents of their wine glass at you, coating your gown in a deep red stain. You gasp and look over to see Jeonghan with his current dance partner -- who is holding her empty wine glass and grinning wickedly at you. You recognize her as the one who interrupted your earlier conversation with Chan. “Oops,” she says.

Your eyes bounce between Jeonghan and the girl. “I need to go change,” you say to Chan. “Please excuse me.”

Chan’s glaring at the girl, and he nods to acknowledge he heard you. You immediately turn away from Jeonghan’s wide-eyed stare, hugging your arms to your chest and heading straight for Hani and Seungcheol. “Some psycho threw her wine on me,” you whisper to her. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asks with concern.

You muster a weak smile. “No, you stay and enjoy your party.”

“I’m going to go escort the psycho out of here,” Seungcheol says, his eyes focused behind you on where you’ve left Chan and the girl and Jeonghan. You look over your shoulder to see Jeonghan leaning in close to the girl and whispering something in her ear, and this is the final straw. A part of you wonders if he planned it himself -- even after you asked him not to ruin things. So you turn on your heel and flee from the ballroom, running up the stairs and heading toward the library.

The tears start the minute you cross the threshold. You hate crying, and hate being a cliche damsel in distress, but the lack of sleep, the confusion about your own feelings, and the blatant bullying you’ve experienced have overwhelmed you, and it’s hard to stop yourself from collapsing into full-blown sobs. You only have a few seconds to cry by yourself between the bookshelves, however, before you hear someone’s footsteps sprinting into the library.

“Princess?”

Oh, no.

You try not to make any noise so that he won’t find you, but Jeonghan still rounds the corner and finds you. You immediately turn your back to him, wiping your eyes as you face the bookshelf. You can hear him approaching you slowly. “Princess?” he repeats.

You slowly turn over your shoulder to face him, looking him in the eye. You know you probably look ridiculous, but you still have to ask. “Was that your idea of a prank?” you say in a hard voice.

“Not at all,” he replies, his voice equally sharp. “Seungcheol and I threw her out ourselves.”

“You did?” you squeak.

He gives you a sad smile. “Of course. She’s never going to be within fifty miles of you ever again if I can help it.”

You nod, looking at your feet. “Well, that’s good. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Jeonghan hesitates, then takes another step forward. “I need to talk to you,” he says.

You avoid his gaze and back up a little, right into the bookshelf. “I don’t see what we have left to talk about,” you hedge.

“Are we back to the bickering?” he asks, sounding frustrated. He steps forward again, nearly toe-to-toe with you, and brings a hand up to your chin, tugging on it gently. “Need you to look at me, princess.”

You lift your eyes to him and are once again overwhelmed by his closeness. You can’t help the deep breath you take at the sight of him. “Why do you keep pretending you hate me?” Jeonghan asks you quietly.

“What do you mean?” you reply.

“I know you don’t really hate me,” he explains. “I’ve known it for months. But I just don’t know why you can’t admit it to yourself. I wish you’d just let it go.” When you don’t reply, he sighs. “I’ve never met anyone as stubborn as you. You truly have no equal.”

Your emotions are so overwhelming and close to the surface that this light barb stings a lot more than Jeonghan probably intended. And this sends you over the edge. You bat his hand away and whisper-yell, “Well, you’re selfish, and conceited, and self-important, and conniving, and I don’t know why I --”

But you stop yourself before you give yourself away. Jeonghan impulsively brings his hands to both sides of your face, trapping you in. “Finish the sentence,” he demands. “You don’t know why you...what?”

But the answer won’t come, stuck between your heart and your voicebox, your stubborn mind trying fruitlessly to bar Jeonghan from knowing the truth. But, as is always the case in all the love stories you’ve ever read, the heart is too strong for the mind, and for a moment, it overcomes all rational thought and takes control over your hands. You grab Jeonghan by the collar and pull his lips to yours.

No amount of shock could keep Jeonghan from responding to your kiss. Ever quick on his feet, he brings a hand to the back of your neck so that he can move you in just the way he wants to, and you, for the first time in forever, let go of your need to sort through all your feelings and make them make sense, and give in to your heart entirely. You don't have to think with Jeonghan -- he takes charge in a way that makes your knees feel weak, and you cling to him desperately to avoid toppling over. Jeonghan kisses with even more passion than he had in that closet, with enough fire that you think you both might combust. His lips are searing and insistent, and you melt into his arms. Instinctively, you tangle your fingers in his hair, and he gives a throaty chuckle. “Careful, princess,” he whispers between kisses, and you hum against his lips in bliss.

Eventually, his kisses turn soft and sweet, slowing down to a pace where you can both catch your breath. And then he pulls away. The sight of him with his hair ruffled from your hands and his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright makes you giggle, and he beams at you, his gaze flicking to your lips again. “Wait,” you say before he can kiss you again. “I like you.”

“Duh,” he says with a laugh in his voice.

You swat his arm. “I mean it. I don’t understand how, or why, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the night we met. And compared to you, everyone seems so...dull.” He’s smirking now, and you swat at him again. “Stop it! I’m trying to be sincere.”

“I can’t help it,” he complains, and he’s looking at you so fondly that it’s dangerous. “You’re so cute. And I love to listen to you speak, but when you speak you move your mouth, and suddenly that’s just become so incredibly distracting for me.”

“My lips are distracting?” you repeat, wrinkling your nose in disgust at how corny it is.

“Well, they always were,” Jeonghan admits. “But right now...” He leans in, gives you a peck, and then runs a hand through his disheveled hair and groans. “Oh, it’s nearly too much.”

You giggle again. “You’re truly obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

“Embarrassingly so,” he says proudly. “Why else do you think I bribed the person who would’ve sat next to you on the plane to take my seat on Seungcheol and Hani’s flight?”

“You switched flights to travel with me?” Yesterday, this would’ve been annoying to learn -- but now, it’s a little endearing.

He nods. “And I switched classes so that I could take them with you. I’m still going to do that until we graduate, mind you, so if you could please avoid the eight o’clock classes, I would appreciate that so much.”

You tsk in fond exasperation at him. “And all of this time, you didn’t think to tell me that you’re --”

“Head over heels for you? Well, I sort of felt like it probably wouldn’t have gone over well. So I bided my time. And it was worth the wait,” he says, clasping one of your hands to his chest. “There’s absolutely no one like you, princess. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

You shake your head, although on the inside you feel like angels are singing. “What an end to our war,” you say, snaking your arms around Jeonghan’s shoulders.

“War is such a strong word,” Jeonghan complains. “It was barely a scuffle.”

“You filled my room with pigeons.”

“And that was low-hanging fruit for me.”

“You’re shameless.”

“Entirely,” he agrees. “Which is why I have no plans to return to that ball anytime soon.” He gives you a mischievous smile and once again looks at your lips.

“I can’t miss my best friend’s entire birthday party,” you remind him, playing with a lock of his hair shyly.

“Hmm,” he says thoughtfully. “That is a predicament. Might I suggest a compromise?”

“Indubitably,” you say, playing along with his posh tone.

He scoffs. “We go back in an hour. We stay to watch her open her gifts. And then we meet back here.”

“To do what?” you ask him, giving him your own dangerous grin.

“What an excellent question, princess,” he says, leaning in and kissing you deeply and slowly before pulling away just slightly and brushing a stray hair from your face. “I guess we’ll have to play it by ear,” he finally tells you in a low voice. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” you sigh, and then you smirk at him. “Pretty boy,” you add as an afterthought.

His eyes darken. “I’m going to make you regret that,” he threatens. And as he kisses you into oblivion once again, you seriously doubt it.

#seventeen #svt #svt fic #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt x reader #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x you

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