Me_only

Boyfriend!jongho who holds your hand everywhere you go together, always making sure you were okay.

Boyfriend!jongho who presses a kiss to your cheek before opening your car door, he’ll even go as far as buckling your seatbelt for you.

Boyfriend!jongho who always makes sure to tell you how pretty you look, trying to reassure you that he sees you for more than just your body.

Boyfriend!jongho who cups your face with both of his hands, gently squishing your cheeks together whiling cooing over how much of a cutie you are to him.

Boyfriend!jongho who runs your baths whenever you say you wanted to take one. He’ll even wash your hair for you while softly singing to you. Trying to wind you down after the long day.

Boyfriend!jongho who gives you one of his shirts to wear as a nightgown, tucking you against his chest while rubbing your back.

— “Slow down, baby.” “Why? I thought you wanted it..” “I do, more than anything. But I want to make sure you want it too…”

Boyfriend!jongho who gets embarrassed when he walks in on you watching porn, he’s always thought you were some innocent and precious girl who didn’t do that.

Boyfriend!jongho who goes to the store to buy condoms after walking in on you, just for in case you wanted to have sex soon. He’ll even buy a couple vibrators too, just for a bit of extra pleasure.

Boyfriend!jongho who crawls in between your spread legs due to hearing your frustrated sighs of not being able to get yourself off properly. Gently moving your hands away before pressing a kiss to each of your finger tips.

Boyfriend!jongho who doesn’t give you time to ask what he’s doing before burying his face in between your thighs, gently sucking on your clit. Encouraged by feeling you grip his hair.

Boyfriend!jongho who pulls away right before you cum, putting a condom on his already leaking cock. Because just the taste of you alone was enough to make him want to cum.

Boyfriend!jongho who tells you ‘take a deep breath, it might hurt a little.’ Right before burying himself to a hilt in one stroke, moaning from feeling how tight you are.

The wind howls around him, making it feel almost as if he’s walking underwater, but he’s sure he can’t be far from the safe house. Thank God for the cable wire he connected to the building so he can follow it back easily. Almost there.

Still. He hasn’t worked out much since he took over the safehouse, and carrying someone’s dead weight is tough. It feels like hours have passed when he finally lugs the person to the door, fumbling with the lock for a moment before he finally manages to haul them inside and down the secondary hatch, miraculously not dropping them down the ladder. With a groan and final push, he gets them right side up on the worn leather couch and he finally can get a good look at them. She’s a young girl, can’t be much older than him, and her face is almost serene, if not for the slight crease between her brows. He doesn’t recognize her at all, and it makes anxiety churn in his gut.

He takes one more step forward when something catches on his foot and he stumbles forward, almost falling flat on his face. Frustrated, he looks down to see a large lump half-buried under the sand. He almost passes it by, but on closer inspection, he blanches. It’s a human. Against his instincts, Wooyoung hooks the wire to his belt before he bends down and scoops the body up, then starts his trek back up. As much as every part of his brain screams at him to leave whoever they are, he doesn’t think he could stand having another death on his hands.

As he starts cleaning the sand off his outerwear, he can’t help but think about the worst possible scenarios, and memories of his past flash through his mind. Wooyoung’s breaths grow heavier, and he sits at the kitchen table with a thud. It’s been a long time since he’s thought of the bright lights and smell of coppery metal that haunt him. It takes him a long time to get his breathing under control, even longer to wave away the memories filling his mind like haze. He really needs a drink.

With great reluctance, Wooyoung forces himself up from the chair and stumbles over to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of old bourbon and taking a swig. He doesn’t bother fetching himself a glass, it’s not like anyone can see him right now. It takes him a little, but he can finally feel his heart settle, and he returns to his kitchen chair. This time, he just contemplates what to do with the unconscious person on his couch right now.

Out of curiosity, Wooyoung steps closer. She must be around his age, but the crease between her brows speaks of more stress than people his age should be under. He would know, he thinks his forehead wrinkles have made a permanent home. A worn jacket rests on her shoulders, covered in sand, and he silently bemoans the state that will become of his washing machine.

He reaches out, dusting off the majority of it, careful not to wake her. The lapels are faded, but his hands pause as he brushes over an almost completely worn through lapel. Wooyoung brushes his fingers over the ridges of an insignia, but the shape of it is familiar. Too familiar.

With a jolt, Wooyoung yanks his hand back. He knows that symbol all too well — he wore it for a time. Government.

His hand shakes as he reaches out again to readjust the lapel, trying to see it more clearly. The jacket is clearly worn, almost falling apart, but he can’t help but fear for his safety. What if she was sent by the military to stake out the base and just got caught in the sandstorm before she could find him? He knows deep down it makes no sense, but he can’t stop his mind from wandering.

But despite the panic, he can’t help but not feel a single lick of regret in his bones for taking her in. He could be wrong. And this house is for caring for people. Not for leaving them out in the deadly weather because of some deep-sated fear. After a moment, he wipes her face of the grime and sweat beading her forehead, and takes a seat once more to wait for her to waken.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Her eyes open slowly, adjusting to the light before she bolts up, the jacket falling loose around her shoulders. Her eyes dart around before they finally land on him, and something unreadable flashes in her eyes. “You—this place?” her voice is rough from the sand that entered her airways, and she coughs.

Wooyoung hands her a glass of water, eyes studying her carefully. “This is…my home,” he explains-without-explanation. “I found you in the sandstorm.”

She frowns, taking the glass and sipping it, hesitant gratitude in her eyes. “…Thank you.” There’s a long pause, where both parties seem wildly uncomfortable.

“…What’s your name?” Internally, Wooyoung panics. He doesn’t know what to ask. He doesn’t want the jacket to be a warning sign. But he needs to know, to figure it out somehow.

She immediately shrinks into herself, lips pulling into a frown. “…what’s it to you?”

Wooyoung’s lips immediately twist. “Are you kidding me?”

She frowns. “It’s a valid question. You’re not entitled to my personal information.” Her lips twist into a little pout, very out of place on her calculating gaze.

Wooyoung gapes. “I dragged you out of a sandstorm. You are occupying my couch. It absolutely gets me a name.” He gives up before she can argue back. Because, as much as Wooyoung is loath to admit it, he understands it. He’s a stranger, anything could be held over her head. “Fine, whatever. Don’t tell me. Is there something I can call you?”

“Nothing,” she responds just as quickly, and Wooyoung feels like ripping out his hair.

“That is not how conversations work.”

It’s almost like she has a response waiting. “It seems to be working just fine.”

Wooyoung can’t help but be amused. There’s no way to argue with her on this either. At all. And he respects it. “Okay. What were you doing in the sandstorm?”

“I was just wandering.”

“Wandering?” The incredulity in Wooyoung’s voice is very audible.

“The sandstorm happened in the middle of my wandering. Is that a crime?” She’s insanely defensive, and Wooyoung can’t seem to make heads or tails of it.

With a sigh, he leaves that conversation alone for now, lest they go in circles until nighttime. “Well, they usually last at least a few hours. There’s no way you can go back out there today. You already probably inhaled enough sand that you’ll be coughing it out for at least a week.”

This time, she nods, rubbing the centre of her chest absentmindedly. “…Yes. Thank you for helping me. You didn’t have to.”

Wooyoung frowns. “Are you kidding me? You were practically half-dead when I found you. Was I supposed to just leave you to your fate?”

Something flickers in her eyes. “You could have. It wouldn’t have changed anything, I wager.”

Wooyoung scoffs. “You can’t wager on that. You needed help, so I helped. That’s a change if I’ve ever seen one.” The corner of her mouth twitches, and Wooyoung barrels onwards. “Things change. That much I know.”

She looks at him like she wants to argue, eyes narrowed, lips pinched. But she doesn’t. Instead, she lays back down, and Wooyoung knows that’s all he’ll get out of her for today. He stands.

“I’ll prep some dinner.”

She shifts, sitting up and swinging her legs to rest her feet on the floor. “I’ll help.”

Wooyoung holds up a finger. “You. Are half dead. Rest.” For the first time since waking up, she listened.

-

Over the next few days, neither of them pushed. Wooyoung stopped asking questions she wouldn’t answer, and the stranger stopped trying to leave the moment the sandstorm cleared. They settled into something that wasn’t quite comfortable, but no longer uncomfortable either.

Wooyoung found out early on she was quiet…but also incapable of leaving anything where he had put it.

“…Is that a third shelf?” It takes Wooyoung a minute to notice it at first.

That wasn’t entirely true.

He saw the stranger hammering the brackets into the wall the moment he entered the safehouse after fetching supplies. He just ignored it until the sound and curiosity became too much to handle. About two minutes later.

The woman spins around, eyes wide before she schools her expression into neutrality. “Yeah. It’s to organise,” she mutters.

Wooyoung sets down his bags, rolling his shoulders slightly to relieve the ache. “Yeah,” he mimics her tone of voice. “That’s what shelves usually are for. But why are you building one? Did…did I even have one lying around?”

She shoots him a look. “This is why you need a shelf. This was lodged behind your desk, along with—” she checks the pocket of the toolbelt…which he had lost weeks ago “—seventeen screws. Also this belt was under the couch. I hope you don’t mind I’ve been using it.”

He stares. He can’t help it. “Uh—yeah. That’s fine. Thank you.” He mindlessly wanders to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers and sink.

“The kettle is in the cabinet next to the stove. The one with the broken door.” He opens the cabinet and pulls out the worn kettle, thanking her. Then it hits. The guest misunderstands his face. “I can fix the door after I put this shelf up.”

Wooyoung shakes his head, then again. “That’s not what I’m confused about. I just—why?”

“Your organization skills are abysmal.”

It’s the only explanation she gives, and yet, Wooyoung doesn’t feel the need to ask for more. He just accepts it. “Yeah. This is the most organised it’s been in probably months.”

“Mmh. It was bothering me.”

-

It turns out the shelf wasn’t the end of it.

Over the next few days, his cabinets stopped squeaking, his cutlery drawer became alphabetized, Missing screws reappeared in suspiciously convenient places. He didn’t notice at first, not when he was preoccupied with finding out more about this stranger in his home.

A few days later, Wooyoung wanders around, trying to find the Allen wrench he had needed for approximately six projects, and couldn’t find. He enters the kitchen, brows furrowed, looks up, then just stops.

He was looking for that hex key for days. And his guest is just...spinning it between her fingers as she erases and recompletes the crossword from years ago. "You are such a magpie." The words slip from his mouth without him thinking about it.

She looks up. “What.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, holding out his hand. She places the hex key there immediately. “A magpie. You’re always taking my shiny things and reorganising them…or pocketing them. But mostly reorganising.”

Almost immediately, her cheeks flare red and her lips twist. “No, I don’t,” she says quickly, too quickly.

“You organised my silverware drawer by size and by, and I quote, fanciness. I still don’t understand how that category works. You somehow materialised a third shelf to put all my screws into. You have my hex key I have been trying to find for the past three days. And I know you knew I was looking for it because you were helping me find it.” Wooyoung counts off his fingers. With each tick, she shrinks lower in her chair.

“It’s helpful,” she mutters, and Wooyoung closes his eyes for a brief moment and smiles.

“…It is. You’re still a magpie, though.”

She glowers. “Why not ravens? They also collect shiny things and they’re cooler.”

“That’s just it. You’re just cute,” Wooyoung laughs, and dodges her hand trying to smack his shoulder. “Thank you for finding it, though.”

She settles back in her chair and picks up the pencil again, returning to her crossword. “Mmh. It’s nothing.”

“Hey, Magpie?”

“…What?”

“Do you also happen to have my pocket knife?”

“It’s in your coat. Don’t call me Magpie.”

“Thanks, Magpie.”

“…You’re welcome.”

Magpie’s lips twitch before settling into a frown, and she doesn’t look up. The nickname stuck, and she is not happy about it. But despite that, whenever Wooyoung uses it, she answers. Before long, he forgets she was just his guest. She is Magpie, and she knows what he’s looking for. Usually because she’s the one who moved it.

-

The moment San arrives, Wooyoung’s lips quirk up. It’s been a while since he’s seen San, and he can’t lie and say he wasn’t worried. He of course, worries for the rebellion and its members as a whole, but there’s a special anxiety he reserves for those working as inside men. He can feel the ache in his chest already.

“Wooyoung, good to see you,” San smiles brightly, drawing Wooyoung out of his thoughts. No matter everything, San somehow always manages to make Wooyoung relax. “You look well.”

Wooyoung laughs, letting San pull him into a bone-crushing hug. “Well as I can be, you mean. No need to lie.” He knows the bags under his eyes are a little heavier than usual, the way he can’t sleep the night through even on the best days.

But then again, San isn’t one to dwell on Wooyoung’s past. He always knows exactly what is needed. “Sure, but you’re smiling. That’s gotta mean for something, right? Now come on, who was the one you wanted me to meet?”

San keeps his arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, and Wooyoung doesn’t mind the weight of it. “Magpie, come meet San!”

Magpie pops her head around the corner from the kitchen before shuffling out and smiling stiffly at San. “Nice to meet you,” she says, voice soft as always. “San, right?” She eyes his get-up, but San seems to take no offense.

“That’s right. I knew Wooyoung from way back, and decided to drop in on my favourite idiot.” Wooyoung clicks his tongue, slapping at San’s chest. “Magpie, huh?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a fond smile on her face. “Just because I like organizing his mess, Wooyoung decided to torment me with that nickname. But…I think it suits me.”

For the briefest moment, Wooyoung stills. Then he shakes his head and refocuses on the conversation at hand. There’s a glint in San’s eyes as he grins wider. “I think it does too,” he teases. “But Wooyoung does need someone to clean up his messes. Looks like you got the job.”

Wooyoung huffs, pretending to kick at San’s shin. “You didn’t come all this way just to fuck with me, San. Come on, you said you’d help me fix up the airlock hatch.”

Magpie shrugs, blinking a few times, and returns to the side kitchen, and Wooyoung tugs San over to the heavy metal door. “I want to replace the hinges and fix the gasket seals,” he says, rummaging around and pulling out the toolbox.

“So, you only wanted me here to fix the door, I see,” San teases, but reaches out and practically snatches the toolbox from Wooyoung. “You know you’re not supposed to carry heavy things.”

Wooyoung laughs, nudging his shoulder against San’s. “It’s not that heavy. But be my guest. Might as well, since I have a big strong man here to help me.”

San sticks out his tongue at Wooyoung, who pointedly ignores it. “Still.” But he doesn’t push.

As they start fixing up the door, Wooyoung glances towards Magpie, who is humming as she chops vegetables. “So…the jacket…” he begins under his breath, and San looks over, assessing.

“I don’t recognize her or that jacket,” San murmurs, watching Magpie with careful eyes as he threads in the new rubber seal. “It’s old, too. Most of the officers of that rank will get their jackets replaced every few years. She’s much too young to have been part of the government for that long. She can’t have worn that thing officially; you would’ve remembered her.”

Wooyoung nods, screwing in a few loose bolts before wiping the hinges with an oiled rag to keep it from squeaking. “She wasn’t anyone’s wife. Or child, for that matter. And you’re sure no one is on any sort of espionage mission?”

San snorts. “Wouldn’t you actually remember then? They would’ve crossed your desk at some point.”

Wooyoung nods slowly, eyes not leaving his guest. “Yes. And I don’t recognize her either. Do you really think it could just be something she found?”

San sighs, slowly stretching, his bones cracking. “I couldn’t tell you, Wooyoung. It could very well just be something she scavenged. Those guys lose their jackets all the time the moment they step foot onto the actual premises. But she very well might be a government defender. It’s hard to tell just from a jacket. Ask her.”

Wooyoung must have been making a face, because San laughs. “Wooyoung, you can’t run a safehouse without talking to people. Come on, you used to be so good at getting information from people.” He realizes what he says a moment late, pausing before shaking his head with a sigh. “I'm sorry. But really. You can’t just deduce this time. You’ll need to talk to her.”

“Yeah…I know...” Wooyoung’s voice trails off, and he rubs furiously at a particularly stubborn rust patch. The silence between the two linger as they fix the rest of the door, rather than discuss further. There’s not much else San can say this time.

They both glance at Magpie, before standing up. “Thanks for coming all the way out here, San,” Wooyoung smiles crookedly. “Get back safe, but you know that you’re always welcome to stay the night here.” It’s an offer they know San won’t take. He never stays anymore. Nothing that could potentially endanger Wooyoung. Wooyoung tells him constantly it isn’t his fault, but guilt…guilt is a stubborn thing.

San smiles at him and nods before carefully climbing up the ladder and into the open. The moment the door seals shut behind him, Wooyoung sits back down on the couch with a heavy thump. He’s already tired. Not just physically, but from trying to untangle the moral dilemma of keeping Magpie around.

Before he has much time to deliberate, Magpie calls out for him. “Can you help me with the soup?” Wooyoung gets up almost immediately, fighting the headache that threatens to overcome him. Help. He likes doing that. It’s better than just mulling over his choices.

San’s reassurance should have been enough. But it wasn’t. Wooyoung tried convincing himself it was, but instead of that, he just cleaned. Then cleaned some more.

-

Mingi was never one for surprise visits. If he said he was coming, then he would come. Which meant the closer the date crept, the heavier the guilt settles in Wooyoung’s stomach.

Wooyoung was sick of chores already. He refilled the water tank, restocked the food, and attempted to refill the water supply before Magpie took the tank from him and told him, with the same tone she used when organizing his screws, that he was resting. Wooyoung didn’t mean to fall asleep after that. But his body ached, and the couch was so soft after she patched the cushions. He needed this. He ran himself ragged the past few days, but he hadn’t meant to. He was just trying to get everything prepped before Mingi visits. He still…feels guilty. He knows San’s words should’ve been enough. But years of fear just don’t disappear. He needs to hear something solid. Something only Mingi can provide. He hopes Magpie won’t hold it against him.

But when he wakes up, there’s a blanket draped over him, and a warm bowl of clam chowder on the coffee table. Magpie sits at the kitchen table, now occupied by a wordsearch book that he marked over a million times.

Strangely, he doesn’t feel the need to comment. No quip, no teasing smile. He just sits there, his heart warming. This? This feels…right. He begins to sit up, but his spine protests, and he flops back down. Magpie glances up briefly. “You shouldn’t have done all that alone,” she murmurs, almost too quietly. Yet, Wooyoung doesn’t feel admonished, not like he would’ve weeks before.

Before he can dwell, a knock sounds. Several knocks. Very heavy knocks. Wooyougn knows who it is before the brash voice even speaks. “Woo! Open up! Wake your ass up. It’s not that early. No one else is around.”

Guilt floods him again. Mingi. Magpie looks at him curiously. “A friend?”

“Yeah.”

-

Wooyoung and Mingi sit awkwardly at the kitchen table. “So…” Wooyoung starts, glancing at the closed door where that little goosy woman who Mingi brought along showers. He can see the curiosity in Magpie’s eyes from across the room, and he mirrors that feeling. But he won’t pry. Not into Mingi.

Mingi raises one eyebrow, his sharp gaze intensifying. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Wooyoung. You know what my answer is going to be.” He straightens his glove, that perfectly raised eyebrow not moving an inch. “The jacket is enough to incriminate her. I say toss her out to where she belongs. And that’s kinder than killing her, since I can tell you have no intention of listening to my advice.”

At his words, Wooyoung pouts. “That’s not true.” The taller man levels him with a look. “Okay. A little true. But I don’t know…I feel like it’s plausible she just picked it up from somewhere. Can’t you just use your adrenaline and read her energy?”

Mingi pushes up his sunglasses, staring Wooyoung down over the rims. “Look. You wanted me to come and analyse her. So listen. I can’t make you decide the same way I would, but at least just listen. She…she’s strange.” He pauses. “Not like you. Not wrong like you.”

Wooyoung flinches. Hard. “Hey, man,” he laughs weakly. “Not cool.”

Mingi rolls his eyes, but his expression softens the slightest bit. “Shut up and listen, asshole. I just mean…your vibe has always been messed up since you got back from fucking asshole county. But I got used to it. With hers? It’s there. It’s strong. I just can’t read it.” He shakes his head. “It’s like I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

Wooyoung’s lips quirk up into a mirthless smile. “Can you tell if she’s government?”

“No,” Mingi answers truthfully, then exhales slowly. “That’s the problem.”

There’s a long pause. Wooyoung doesn’t know what to say, and Mingi just looks at him. For a tad too long. Wooyoung squirms. “…Yeah,” is all Wooyoung can muster out, and he just wants the conversation to be over. “…Do you need to stay the night?"

Mingi doesn’t respond at first, then he sighs. “You’re keeping her, aren’t you.” It’s not a question, because they both already know. Mingi huffs out a dry laugh. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”

-

Mingi keeps himself scarce, usually talking to Goose in quiet but snippy tones. Wooyoung and Magpie much more polite conversation with her, but in the end, everyone ends up doing their own thing. Magpie continues organising, shying away from Mingi’s intense gaze as he tries to figure her out.

It’s late at night, and the little Goose is resting on the couch, Mingi’s arms wrapped protectively around her despite the harsh way he refers to her. Wooyoung honestly forgets he’s there. He and Magpie sit quietly around the dining table, the only sound light snores from the couch and the scratching of her filling out her crossword once more.

Then Wooyoung’s radio crackles. An outpost he once ran supplies to needed extra hands to fix up the bridge, broken from the sandstorm Wooyoung rescued Magpie from.

“You’re going to go out again?” Magpie stares at him like he just told her he’s going to strip naked in front of her.

“They need my help.”

“But why?” Her voice is taking on an edge he hadn’t heard before. Frustration. “You helped them before, already. You need to help yourself.”

Now it’s Wooyoung’s turn to stare. “Help isn’t a one time thing. You have been organising my spice rack for days.”

She frowns, tapping her fingertips on the table. “That’s different.” She doesn’t expand, and Wooyoung can feel frustration rise.

“How is that different?”

“The spice rack doesn’t get people killed.”

Wooyoung’s blood runs cold. “That’s how you feel?”

“That’s what I know, Wooyoung.” Magpie sounds so, so tired, but Wooyoung just can’t accept why. How can she be tired of fighting? How can she look at everything happening and decide the answer is to stop? “You know what happens when people keep telling themselves the suffering is worth it? They stop seeing the people who are suffering.”

His jaw tightens. “And you think I don't see them?”

“I think you see them so much that you don't know when to stop,” she says softly. “And that’s what you need to do. You can’t keep putting your life on the line for people who won’t even know your name.”

“And what, pray tell, am I supposed to do?” Wooyoung asks, frustrated. “Leave them to die?”

“You’re supposed to live,” Magpie replies as easily as she pours him a cup of tea. And Wooyoung’s world halts.

He can hear blood rushing to his ears, his mouth suddenly dry. “Live? Live while innocent people die from the government’s schemes?”

“Innocent people have died because of the government, yes. But the rebellion doesn’t solve pointless casualties.”

Wooyoung lets out a long-suffering sigh, “No,” he assents tiredly. “But doing nothing doesn’t stop them either.”

Magpie shakes her head, shoulders relaxing like she’s relieved he’s agreeing. He wasn’t. “Everyone always thinks their casualties are necessary.”

Something burns in Wooyoung’s chest. “Necessary?” He doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, so bitter. But that word twists his heart and he can’t stop, won’t stop running his mouth.

“You think I don’t know what casualties look like?” he snaps, his hand curling into a fist, his nails digging into his palm. The pain doesn’t ground him. “They experimented on me. They ruined me. They pumped that shit into my body until there was barely anything left that worked. And when that didn’t work, they threw me into a cell to rot.

He laughs once, but there is nothing funny about it. “Only God, if He’s real, knows how I got out. So you can’t—you won’t tell me I don’t understand the costs.”

He stops. His lips pinch tight. And he pushes his chair back, legs scratching against the hardwood floors, and he stands. Mingi sits on the couch, most definitely awake, watching him with careful eyes. Wooyoung had spent years trying to bury those memories, and somehow, she had dragged them into the light with one word. And, although not his proudest moment, he turns and storms out.

Wooyoung doesn't know how long he was gone. But it was long enough for him to get to the outpost and help until his gut stopped churning, begin the journey home, and then feel sick to his stomach at the sorrow in Magpie's eyes as he told her about things he hadn't let himself think about for years. Guilt mixing with relief because he helped people who needed it, but he left the person he hurt sitting at home and worrying. Because he knows she worried, and that’s why she argued.

When he's back, he expects an empty house. The lights are off anyway, the door locked tight like he had left it. But she's sitting on the couch. Her eyes are red, and Wooyoung doesn't want to know if it's from tears or a lack of sleep. But she's here. She's here, and her bag is still shoved under the desk, and her crossword is still laying on the kitchen table.

"...Where's Mingi?"

"He left."

They stare at each other for a moment. Then Magpie looks down, then Magpie shifts slightly. Making room for him on the couch. And Wooyoung doesn't reopen the fresh wound. Instead, he drops his bag and just collapses into the couch. For tonight, that’s all they need.

-

They don’t talk about it. Wooyoung doesn’t want to. Magpie doesn’t want to. And somehow, they’re both okay with that. Life resumes in small ways. Sometimes, he can’t help but wonder about Magpie, and how she became so cynical, but then she pushes a cup of warm tea into his hand and his train of thought falters.

Her bag remains packed, but it doesn’t move from its spot. Every morning, Wooyoung can’t help but glance to make sure it’s still there. Magpie moves like she lives comfortably, and he doesn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize that. Because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he likes having her around.

Sometimes, when he hopes she doesn’t notice, he will just watch her do her crossword, or tinker with the toolbox, or make a pot of soup. And he has to fight the smile from appearing on his face. One evening, as she props her chin on her hand and absentmindedly erases a clue, he sits opposite her, mirroring her pose.

“Magpie?” She doesn’t look up, and he laughs softly and tries again. “Magpie.”

This time, she looks up, chewing on the end of her pencil. “Mmh?”

“Is there anyone who still uses your real name?” He regrets it the moment he says it. Her shoulders tense, her eyes squinting almost imperceptibly before she looks to the side and then back at him. The apology is on the tip of his tongue when she speaks.

“Not anymore.” She tries to smile, but it falls flat. There’s a long pause when Wooyoung thinks she has ended the conversation just like that, but then she clears her throat and fully sets the pencil down. “…It’s YN.”

“Oh.” Wooyoung slaps himself mentally for that reaction. “I like it.”

Magpie stares at him for a long moment, her lips twitching as if deciding whether to smile or frown. “Yeah. I…I miss it, but I like Magpie too.”

Wooyoung’s lips pull into a smile. “Then we can stick with Magpie.” He suddenly needs fresh are and stands, scraping his chair on the floor. “Want to help me do a supply run?”

Magpie laughs this time, shaking her head. “No, thank you. I think I’ll start on dinner instead.”

Disappointment lingers in Wooyoung’s chest but not for long. “Okay. I’ll be back.”

She doesn’t hesitate in her response. “I believe you.”

She was right. He came back that evening. Then the next. And the one after that.

The next few days blur together.

Yeosang drops by with Silver in tow, filling the safehouse with conversation Wooyoung hadn't realized he'd missed. Mingi returns not long after, somehow even grumpier than before. Magpie and Silver disappear into the kitchen over soup, while Wooyoung catches Yeosang up on the latest patrol routes and the bar raid.

For the first time in a long while...The safehouse feels full.

Magpie is convinced Mingi doesn’t like her, but at least he looks at her without as much suspicion now. And Goose is happy enough to join the conversation without Mingi breathing down her back. Wooyoung is in the middle of preparing dinner for a nice little reunion when a little beep catches his attention.

Wooyoung freezes. He knows that beep. In a flash, he’s practically leapt over the kitchen island and scrambled for the desk, blatantly ignoring the looks everyone shoots him. “Fuck—” Wooyoung hisses as he deciphers the coded message. He knows exactly who is on the other end, exactly the situation they’re in. “Fuck.”

Magpie is already standing beside him, hand resting on his shoulder. “What is it?”

“Sa—” he pauses, glances at Silver, at Goose. “One of ours needs help.”

Automatically, he reaches for his bag, hoisting it onto his shoulder. He turns, staring at the tracker screen, walking towards the sealed door.

Then he pauses, raising his head. Looking at Magpie. Looking at…looking at YN. She stares right back, eyes dull, but she says nothing. She doesn’t protest. She just stands there, resigned.

“Mingi, can you take this one? Use the radio, it has a tracker.” Wooyoung suggests it before he can even think, already tossing the old radio to the taller man, grateful for his reflexes. “I…I have to stay back.”

Mingi pockets the remote. “You sure?” he asks, more as a courtesy. He’s already halfway out the door, Goose on his trail.

Yeosang quickly trails behind him. “We’ll fix it, Wooyoung. Count on us. We’ll bring them home,” he says softly, promising Wooyoung exactly what he needs to hear, Silver hot on his heels. And then they’re gone. The hatch is closed. The radio static fades, the safehouse is...quiet.

Wooyoung stands there, his bag still hanging limply off his shoulder. He doesn’t set it down for a long time. “I’ve never done that before,” he says, hearing his voice like he’s underwater. He laughs wetly. “I feel awful.”

YN hesitates. “…Are you going to regret it?”

This time, Wooyoung turns to look at her, the way she chews on her lip, her hands clasped behind her back. “I will. No matter what I would’ve chosen, I would regret it. But…but I want to stay.” Neither of them move.

Then, the moment Wooyoung’s shoulders relax fractionally, YN blurts out, “I need to tell you something.” Like it’s her last chance.

Wooyoung shuts his mouth and immediately sits on the couch. YN remains standing. “I…I have adrenaline. Always have for as long as I can remember. I just…never knew how it manifested until much later.”

She smiles, but there’s not a hint of joy behind it. Nor sadness. It’s just her face. “I thought everyone did it. They would talk about what-ifs, what could’ves. I thought I was human.” Her entire body tenses. “Then one of them came true. My parents, I saw them…saw them get caught in a sandstorm. It happened three days later.”

Wooyoung feels like he’s been dunked in cold water. “All those times…” he replays it all. Her zoning out for a few seconds. The way she never slept in one sitting. “You see the future.”

Her lips twist into a crooked smile. “Not one future. Just possibilities.” She breathes out slowly. “Most of them never happen. Some do. I never know which. That is the worst part of it all.”

And it all falls into place like a puzzle. Why she was so adamant against choosing, why she feared leaving, why she feared staying. “YN…—" she flinches “—Magpie. That sounds lonely.”

She almost shakes her head, but she stops, and agrees. “Yes. It was. I stopped choosing because I thought, I hoped, maybe fewer people would disappear.” She laughs again, closing her eyes briefly. “Are you afraid of me?”

Wooyoung immediately shakes his head. “I’m more afraid of how long you’ve been carrying it yourself.” This time, she chuckles genuinely. It’s still sad, but it’s real.

“That’s a very you answer.”

“Mmh. Yeah. I know.”

-

The next morning, Wooyoung wakes to find a mug of tea waiting where he always sits. Magpie is already bent over her crossword, erasing a clue with the same absentminded concentration as always. When he murmurs a quiet, "morning," she doesn't flinch anymore.

Instead, she looks up, smiles, and silently scootches her chair over to make room for him. “There’s oatmeal in the pot,” she hums, glancing back down at her crossword.

Wooyoung doesn’t grab a bowl first. Rather, he sits next to Magpie, peeking over her shoulder. He watches her diligently fill in the letters quickly, lips pursed slightly. “Haven’t you completed that a billion times already?” he asks, plopping his chin on her shoulder.

Magpie pauses for a moment but lowers her shoulder for him to relax more. “Yeah. But if I get too bored, I just make up my own clues and answers,” she explains absentmindedly, scratching out another stray pencil mark. “Then, once enough time has passed, I’ll erase everything and start again.”

A loud laugh escapes Wooyoung, but he quiets soon after, reaching out to point at one of Magpie’s makeshift clues. ‘Returns Home (8)’. “What’s the answer to this one?”

Magpie hums, filling it in silently. Wooyoung.

He immediately lifts his head to beam at her. “I’m one of your answers?” Despite the face she pulls, his heart warms.

“I ran out of words,” she mumbles, and Wooyoung doesn’t press. The heat blooming in her cheeks is enough for him. For a moment, he’s overcome with the urge to press his lips there. The thought surprises him enough that he clears his throat and stands.

“I need to run to grab some supplies and fill the water tank. Want anything?”

Magpie doesn’t look up, but Wooyoung can hear the slight smile in her voice. “Maybe some vegetables? I think I’ll make soup tonight.”

“You got it,” Wooyoung smiles, brushing his fingers across her shoulder as he walks past to grab his bag. “I’ll be back before sunset.”

This time, she looks up, something amused in her eyes. “You’ll try,” she corrects, and Wooyoung laughs.

“I’ll try.”

After that, "I'll try" becomes their compromise. More often than not, he keeps his word. He comes home with vegetables tucked beneath one arm and whatever odds and ends he'd managed to barter for beneath the other. The lights are already on by the time he reaches the safehouse, and dinner is always waiting. He doesn’t know how she does it, how it always is the perfect temperature when he gets home. But he thanks her every time, happy to see the smile on her face when he hands her some fresh fruit.

Then one evening, he’s late. The supply run took longer than expected, and he was eager to be home. But as he was packing and counting his purchases, he notices one thing laying haphazardly on the wooden table. It took some time to convince the trader to part with it, but extra coin never hurt.

Wooyoung doesn’t even realize the sun has gone down fully, his steps automatic, but as he swings the door open, he sees Magpie. She’s sitting on the couch, eyes unfocused as she mindlessly scribbles in the corner of her crossword. The pot sits on the stove, simmering on low heat. It’s almost picturesque.

The moment he takes a step inside, Magpie’s head snaps up. She looks him up and down, assessing. Only when she deems him alright do her shoulders relax. “…The soup’s been kept warm,” she murmurs.

With a quiet, almost apologetic sigh, Wooyoung steps closer and holds out the crossword book. “Here. I saw it on the way home.”

He watches as Magpie reaches out tentatively, her fingers brushing the cover before she takes it and flips through. “You bought me another one?” she asks, her voice small but filled with gratitude and a hint of surprise.

The corners of Wooyoung’s lips quirk up. “You looked like you were running out of room.” He pauses. “Did you eat yet?”

Magpie pauses, before she smiles. “Yeah. But…I think I’m hungry again.”

They eat together that night in a comfortable silence, the new crossword abandoned on the table between them. Before long, it joins the rest of the books laying on the worn coffee table, and the house is peaceful.

The quiet doesn’t last long. A few days later, the others return, with San in tow. Wooyoung almost falls to his knees in relief seeing that his friend is alive, despite the exhaustion written on San’s face. They don’t linger long, just long enough to grab extra supplies and reassure Wooyoung. There were still settlements to rebuild, patrols to organize, and much needed rest for everyone. But before they left, San rested a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder, a small smile on his face.

“You made the right choice.”

Wooyoung freezes. Something in his chest finally loosens. Before he can think twice, he beams and throws his arms around San.

 “I’m glad you’re here.”

San chuckles, returning the hug. Then they pull apart, and Mingi steps forward, solemnly handing the radio back to Wooyoung. He doesn’t say much, the look in his eyes stormy, but he thanks Wooyoung quietly and trails out. Yeosang sidles up and smacks Wooyoung’s shoulder, a tired grin on his face. “We’ll return with some damn good alcohol next time,” he promises, and Wooyoung laughs shakily.

“You better.”

Wooyoung smiles despite himself. “Guess it’s just us again.”

And then the safehouse is empty save for Magpie standing quietly in the kitchen, watching him. She meets his eyes, before turning back towards the stove.

Magpie hums in agreement. “Come on, soup’s ready.” Wooyoung nods and begins to set the table without another thought.

The safehouse settles again. Tea in the mornings, supply runs in the afternoons. Dinner waiting until the door creaks open and Wooyoung pokes his head around the door with a smile. More and more crosswords piling up.

One morning, Wooyoung wakes before dawn. He glances at Magpie, still curled up around a pillow on the spare mattress, and smiles slightly. Quietly, he starts dressing, glancing over every time he hears her shift, afraid he’ll wake her up.

Then, as he reaches the door to the main room, he hears her smack her lips and he turns to see her sitting up, blinking at him. “You’re up,” he laughs softly.

“Mmh. You’re leaving earlier than usual,” she says in between yawns.

Wooyoung laughs, walking over to neaten her hair automatically. “Yeah. I want to be home earlier today. I’m heading to the relay tower to get some spare antennae and I'm hoping to find some replacement relays, wiring, maybe a signal amplifier if I'm lucky.”

Magpie hums. “Okay. Be safe.”

“I’ll try. But you should go back to sleep,” Wooyoung laughs at the way her eyebrows scrunch.

She smiles, eyes already closing again. “I’ll see you later,” she murmurs, curling back around the pillow.

Wooyoung stills. It's such an ordinary goodbye that, for a moment, he almost misses it, but the smile that splits his face almost hurts. He fights to keep his voice level, moving his hand from her face. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

-

The house is far too quiet. No chattering, no friendly arguments, just silence and the flip of each crossword page. The sun remains freshly risen, and it feels like the clock hasn’t made one more tick. Wooyoung had only left an hour or so ago, when the sky was light but the sun was still hidden. You shuffle in your seat, erase another letter, look up at the clock, take a sip of your now-cold tea.

You’ve cleaned everything, sorted and resorted the cutlery drawer, And yet, you can’t seem to sit still. How long has Wooyoung been gone, anyway? You shake your head, trying to chase away your worries. He’s fine. He can handle it. He always comes back.

It feels like something crawls up your spine, and you stand abruptly, the chair scraping against the dull hardwood floors. You can’t sit at home idle anymore, you’ll go insane. So instead, you rummage through your bag to grab only the necessities before borrowing one of Wooyoung’s long scarves to block against wind. You don’t even know where you’ll go, but you can’t sit in silence and just wait a moment longer.

Without even thinking, you begin the journey to Yeosang’s bar, remembering the route from what Wooyoung has told you. It’s a long journey, but you’ve walked farther. So, off you wander.

As the sun is starting to reach its high point, you make it to the bar, staring at the heavy doors before you pull it open and step inside. The interior is kept dim, but the racks on racks of alcohol remain lit up. You see Yeosang wiping down some glasses, his face impassive. When he looks up, his expression doesn’t change save for a single eyebrow raising. “Magpie? What brings you here?” Another head pops out from behind the shelves. Silver waves with the rag still slung over her shoulder before returning to wiping down the counter. Yeosang looks around. “Where’s Wooyoung?”

You offer them both a weak smile. “He went to grab supplies. I…” you pause. Why did you come? You wrack your brains for a good excuse. “I wanted to let you know, Wooyoung received notice the government patrol is no longer at the canyon outpost.”

Yeosang hums. “"Thanks. Saves Woo another trip.” He sets down the glass with a clink. “Want something to drink before you head back?”

“…Sure.” As you settle onto one of the barstools, Yeosang begins mixing a drink, and Silver walks around the counter to join you. “How’s San doing?”

Something in Yeosang’s smile turns…almost sad, but not quite. “He’s resting right now. But he’ll recover.”

You nod almost automatically. The silence is thick, not with tension, but something not quite comfortable. Right now, all you want to do is finish your drink and start the trek back home. Silver doesn’t seem to mind, engaging you in conversation.

“So, you came here for some company?” Silver leans in conspiratorially. Even when you shake your head, she laughs and winks, like she knows your deepest desires. “Don’t give me that look. Come on, drink up. Yeosang is actually pretty good at mixing drinks.” Yeosang shoots her a look, but it’s tempered by the genuine affection in his eyes.

As you take another sip, the radio on the far end of the counter begins to crackle. “...Repeating today's weather bulletin. Storm front advancing from the western dunes. Estimated impact: Sector One in forty minutes, spreading east quickly. Any travellers still outside are advised to turn back while visibility permits.”

Yeosang hums, setting a glass down. “That’s near the relay tower. It’s lasted many sandstorms before, but I hope it’ll last through this one. The settlement nearby relies on that junk tower.”

Everything in you freezes. “Relay tower?” you repeat, voice tight. For half a heartbeat, sand claws at your face, swallowing you whole. Someone is calling a name you can’t hear, the sound of metal groaning before the telltale signs of it collapsing. Yeosang lifts his head to look at you, but you’re already halfway out of your seat, rewrapping your scarf around your head.

Something shifts in Yeosang’s eyes. “Wooyoung’s there?”

“Yes. He said he was going to see if he could get spare parts.” You swing your bag over your shoulder and straighten up only to see Mingi standing in front of you, his broad shoulders blocking your view of the door. You don’t even know when he got here.

“Why’d you let him go?” His voice is sharp as he looks you over. Silver opens her mouth to object, but Yeosang gives the slightest shake of his head.

You look down, then back up. “I asked him to choose to live. I can’t punish him for listening.”

Something in Mingi’s eyes change, although he still looks at you warily. “Then why are you going now, after everything you’ve said?”

Your mouth opens, but you shut it soon after. “Because…” Any other time, you would’ve just said it’s because you owe Wooyoung. If you asked him, he would say that debt had been repaid many times over. “Because this is my choice. I may not agree with him, but I want him safe while he does what he loves.”

Mingi huffs, studying your face for a long moment, as if expecting hesitation. Fear. An excuse. But he finds none, and exchanges a look with Yeosang. “About time.” He glances at the radio, still cracking out weather forecasts. “Come on, we should get going. Every minute we're standing here is another minute he's out there.”

At that, you pause. “You’re coming with me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “But you don’t like me.”

A crooked smile creeps up on Mingi’s face. “I don’t. But I want Wooyoung safe more than I don’t want to see you.” He hoists your bag onto his shoulder without you even asking. “And I have a car.”

You stare. “That rickety old thing I saw on my way here?”

Yeosang laughs, even as Mingi’s glare intensifies. “Mingi’s car is more reliable than you’d think. And he knows the route well.”

Silver’s lips quirk. “But you’ll need a bag to handle his driving. There is no such thing as a speed limit when he’s behind the wheel.”

Mingi glowers. “There are no speed limits in a sandstorm.” With a wave of his hand, Mingi starts walking toward the door. “Don’t worry, I won’t hover. I’m going to go help the outpost nearby, since they’ll be hit pretty hard.” He pauses, glancing back over his shoulder at you, clearly waiting.

You scramble to follow, and Silver glances back at Yeosang, exchanging a nod, before she hops off the stool and moves to walk beside you. “I’ll come. Someone’s gotta keep Mingi in check. And…” her voice trails off before she replaces the pensive look with an easy smile. “There are kids—people at the settlement. I can’t just…leave them.”

Mingi tsks, but doesn’t argue. Instead, he leads you to the rusted car and wrenches the door open for you and Silver before moving to the driver’s side. “Let’s get a move on.”

-

At first, Wooyoung thought it was just the wind. He was unscrewing the transmitter to take home when the wind stopped. After a quick glance out the window only to see nothing, he continued working. He grabs the transmitter, shoving it into his bag before beginning the descent of the creaking staircase. He would like to stay longer, but when the air itself seems to come to a halt, he knows that’s when it’s time to go.

Then he hears it. The whistle of wind before it melts into a constant roar. His head snaps to the west only to see that the horizon has disappeared behind a wall of swirling sand. He scrambles down the stairs, reaching the door to the interior and slamming it shut behind him just as the sand pelts against the metal. The relay tower has weathered many a storm, and so has he.

He'd ridden out storms before, knows them well enough. Some passed before the tea in his thermos cooled. Others lasted long enough for the sun to disappear entirely. The only thing they had in common was that nothing ever told you which one you were in.

Wooyoung leans against the thin metal wall, checking his watch. Four minutes pass, then twenty, then forty. Then an hour, two, and although he can’t see it, he knows the sun is almost touching the horizon, especially as the windchill sets into his bones. The storm has shown no signs of easing. He looked at the doorway. Wait another hour...or head home. His eyes drifted to his watch. Around now, YN would probably have finished today's crossword.

He waits one more minute before gathering his supplies and moving to wait by the door. Once the wind lulls slightly, he tightens the scarf around his mouth and trudges out.

Fifty paces. When he glances behind him, the relay tower is still standing strong, although he can see the antennae wobble. It’s hard to trudge up the dunes, but he bites through the wind threatening to shove him back to the bottom.

The sand finds every bit of skin it can reach, pelting him. When he tries to glance at his watch, he can barely see the minute hand due to the thick layer of dust covering it that seems to replace itself when he tries to wipe it. So, he begins counting each second.

By the 500th, or maybe 600th second, Wooyoung doesn’t know how long he’s been out here. He’s passed the fence that blocks off the canyon from the relay tower. He knows he needs to move east from it, but when he stops to orient himself, the wind shoves him to his knees.

With difficulty, he staggers to his feet, and looks behind him. The relay tower is no longer in sight, which is good. But when he looks forward, he can’t see anything either. But he was supposed to reach the gate to Sector Two by now—or did he pass it already?

Wooyoung breathes out sharply to try and dispel the sand from his nose and lips, although he knows it only allows more to enter his system. But even just the few seconds without the grains in his mouth is relieving. He’s trying hard to keep a hold of the spare parts he came for, but he knows he’s lost some already. His whole body aches and groans in protest as he tries to take one more step. He slumps to the ground, head landing against the edge of the fence. Just one minute, he tells himself. One more minute, and then he can get up and go have a nice, warm meal. One more minute.

He doesn’t remember how long his eyes were closed, when he slumped over and sand covered his entire torso. But he does remember when something crashes into his side. He barely reacts. Then someone is digging, brushing sand off his shoulders.

"...Wooyoung?"

He blinks awake, then jolts up. The clouds are gone, the sun setting in golden and orange colours behind a familiar silhouette. “What are you doing here?” Wooyoung asks past the mouthful of sand and internal gratefulness YN had pulled him out from the sand bank. “I thought…I thought you didn’t meddle.”

He berates himself silently for the question. He had told himself not to pry, but something in YN’s eyes made him blurt out the question without thinking twice. She looks at him for a long moment before she sighs, tugging at his arm to help him up. “You would’ve made me a liar.”

Wooyoung stares at her. “What?”

YN huffs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I said I’d see you later, but you were half-buried under a bunch of sand. I’m not keen to become a liar.” Wooyoung opens his mouth, but you beat him to it again. “And I don’t think I could do it anymore. Be alone, I mean.”

The last bit is mumbled, and Wooyoung almost doesn’t catch it. But something warm blooms in his heart and he leans just a tad closer. “YN, you…” his words catch in his throat. “Thank you.”

Finally, the gratitude he feels from the depths in his bones, and YN’s lips quirk. “Of course, Wooyoung. It’s…you know…”

She catches herself, and Wooyoung frowns, looking at the way she seems to fight with herself. “What is it?” She looks away, and Wooyoung waits.

Her shoulders slump. “I was going to say I’d always be there for you,” she says, voice quiet, but not dull. “But I don’t know that. I don’t know where we’ll be tomorrow. Or next month, or after that. But…But I’ll always want to.”

For once, Wooyoung doesn’t try to convince her to make a promise. He finally, truly, understood. It had never been about unwillingness. It had always been about certainty.

“…Let’s go home?”

“I know.” Keres smiled faintly. “You’ve become rather attached.” He didn’t deny it. “I have.” Silence settled between them before Keres tilted her head slightly. “Does she know?” Yunho’s brows furrowed. “Know what?” Keres finally looked at him. “That you and I were still sleeping together before you met her.” The words landed with surprising softness. Not cruel. Not jealous. Just simply factual. Yunho let out a quiet breath through his nose. “No. She knows we were together once a long time ago that’s it.”

“And are you planning to tell her?” He thought for a moment. “If she asks…” His gaze drifted toward the front doors of the estate. “I’ll answer.” Keres studied him. “You’re different.”

“I’ve been told.”

“No.” A small smile touched her lips. “I don’t mean happier.” She folded her arms. “I mean… careful.” Yunho chuckled. “I have something worth being careful with now.” Keres followed his line of sight toward the villa. “I never thought I’d hear Lucifer’s son say something like that.”

“Neither did I.” Before either could continue, the front doors opened as Y/N stepped into the sunshine adjusting the strap of the small woven bag resting against her hip. The cream colored outfit she’d chosen looked made for the Greek islands. The textured wrap skirt fluttered gently in the breeze while the matching asymmetrical top left one shoulder bare. Dark sunglasses rested atop her head, and comfortable sandals clicked softly against the stone as she descended the steps and smiled immediately when she saw Yunho. “There you…” She stopped as voice came from the opposite corridor. “Princess.” She turned as Darrius emerged from one of the side hallways fastening the cuff of a charcoal jacket. His movements were as relaxed as ever. Almost. The injury from the previous evening had nearly vanished. Only a thin reddish mark remained around one eye, the last evidence of Yunho’s temper. It was already fading with every passing hour. Demonic healing. He caught her noticing it and smiled. “You should’ve seen the other guy.” Y/N couldn’t help the tiny laugh that escaped. “I have.” She nodded toward the lingering mark. “I think he won.” Darrius barked out a genuine laugh. “I suppose that’s fair.” His gaze flicked briefly toward the terrace where Yunho had already gone completely still then back to her. “I wanted to apologize.” That… she hadn’t expected. “For what?”

“For making your first dinner among Hell’s nobility… eventful.” There was an odd sincerity beneath his usual swagger. “I enjoy provoking your husband.” He shrugged. “That’s between him and me.” His expression softened just enough to be believable. “You, however, had nothing to do with it.” Y/N studied him carefully, not fully believing him. “Apology accepted.” A slow grin spread across Darrius’s face. “I can see why he married you.” Before he could say another word, a familiar voice cut cleanly through the morning air. “Darrius.” Yunho hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t needed to. Every trace of warmth disappeared from Darrius’s amused expression as he looked toward the terrace. Yunho stood exactly where he’d been moments before. Hands relaxed. Expression calm. But his eyes never left the older demon as Darrius lifted both hands in exaggerated surrender. “We’re having a perfectly civilized conversation.” Yunho glared at him. “Then let’s keep it that way.” Y/N glanced between them before walking the remaining distance to Yunho’s side, slipping her hand into his and his fingers closed around hers. Only then did the tension in his shoulders begin to ease. Keres watched the exchange from a few steps away and smiled to herself. Not with envy but understanding. Whatever had existed between her and Yunho belonged to another century. This…. the quiet way he reached for Y/N’s hand without looking. The instinctive way she took it. That belonged to someone else now.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The ferry cut steadily through the impossibly blue Ionian Sea, its wake trailing behind like a ribbon of white silk. The farther they traveled from Athens, the quieter everything seemed to become. The bustle of the port had long since disappeared, replaced by the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull and the occasional cry of gulls circling overhead. Sunlight danced across the water in thousands of glittering fragments, bright enough that Y/N had to squint despite the sunglasses perched on her nose. She rested both forearms against the polished rail, letting the sea breeze tug loose strands of her hair across her face. The air smelled faintly of salt and sunscreen instead of brimstone and smoke, and every deep breath felt like it reached places inside her she hadn’t realized had been tense as Yunho emerged from the ferry’s café balancing two plastic cups filled with iced drinks. He paused for a second before walking over, unable to stop watching her. The sunlight suited her in a way Hell never could. It softened her features, warmed her skin, and turned the loose cream colored outfit she’d chosen into something that looked like it belonged on every postcard Greece had ever printed. He smiled to himself. “I was gone less than three minutes.” She looked over her shoulder. “I noticed.”

“You didn’t come looking for me.”

“I figured you weren’t collecting souls from the snack bar.” A laugh escaped him as he handed her one of the drinks. “Iced peach tea. Except this one is spiked.” She took a sip, humming happily. It was what she let him buy her the first night they met at the club. “You remembered.”

“I remember most things about you.” She gave him a suspicious look over the rim of the cup. “That was smooth.”

“I know.”

“You practiced that.”

“I absolutely didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I’ve had four hundred years to become charming remember.” She laughed, nudging his shoulder before turning back toward the water. And for a while they simply stood together in comfortable silence. The sea stretched endlessly ahead of them, impossibly blue, broken only by tiny sailboats drifting in the distance. Mountains slowly began taking shape on the horizon, their green slopes rising out of the water as if the island itself were waking from the sea as Y/N leaned against the railing again. “It’s weird.”

“Hm?”

“I always thought vacations were something other people got.” Yunho looked at her and shrugged lightly. “My grandmother and I used to watch travel documentaries after dinner.” A smile tugged at her lips. “She’d point at places she’d visited before I was born.” Her gaze stayed fixed on the approaching island. “Greece was always her favorite though. She’d talk about the water for hours.” She laughed quietly. “I’d tease her that water was water.”

“And now?” Y/N looked down at the shimmering sea surrounding them. “I owe her an apology.” Yunho smiled, moving to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, gripping his drink in one hand still as he kissed her shoulder. “I think she’d accept it.” She rested her head lightly back against his chest. “I wish she could’ve seen this.”

“I know.”

“I wish…” She stopped herself before smiling instead. “Actually, she’d probably think marrying the Devil’s son was the most interesting thing I’d ever done.”

“I imagine she’d have questions.”

“So many questions.” Yunho laughed, the sound blending with the wind as they watched Kefalonia grow larger with every passing minute. White buildings began to appear along the shoreline, tucked between green hillsides, and little fishing boats bobbed lazily in the harbor. Y/N’s smile grew until she couldn’t contain it anymore. “That’s it.” Yunho followed her gaze. “I can’t believe we’re actually here.”

“You haven’t even stepped onto it yet.”

“I know.” She looked back up at him, excitement bright enough to rival the sun itself. “Do you think it’s really going to look like all the pictures I’ve seen?” He looked from her to the emerald cliffs waiting in the distance. “I have a feeling,” he said with a small smile, “it’s going to be even better.” As if on cue, the ferry’s horn echoed across the water, long and deep as the harbor of Kefalonia opened before them, the island welcoming them beneath an endless blue sky. The drive to the villa wound through towering cypress trees before finally slowing as ornate wrought iron gates swung open on silent hinges. Beyond them, a long stone drive curved between ancient olive trees whose silver green leaves shimmered in the afternoon breeze. Lavender and rosemary bordered the path, filling the warm air with a fragrance so fresh it drifted through the open windows of the SUV. Ahead, the sea flashed between the trees in brilliant shades of sapphire, growing larger with every turn until the landscape suddenly opened and Y/N forgot how to breathe. The villa sat perched high above the Ionian sea as though it had grown from the cliffs themselves. Cream colored stone glowed beneath the afternoon sun, ivy climbing lazily over its walls while flowering bougainvillea spilled from balconies draped in white linen curtains. Floor to ceiling windows reflected the endless stretch of blue water beyond, and an infinity pool disappeared seamlessly into the horizon, making it impossible to tell where the pool ended and the sea began. Stone terraces stepped down toward a secluded crescent of white sand below, hidden beneath the cliffs and accessible only by a winding staircase carved into the rock.

The SUV rolled to a stop beneath the shaded entrance and Y/N simply stared through the windshield, her mouth slowly falling open. “No.” Yunho smiled without looking at her. “What?”

“This…” She pointed helplessly toward the villa. “This isn’t a villa.”

“No?”

“This is where billionaires go to pretend they’re humble.” A laugh escaped him as he got out the car, walking around to her side and opening the door for her. “I suppose definitions vary.” She looked back toward the house, then toward the ocean glittering beyond it. “You mean to tell me…” She gestured wildly at everything. “this is where we’re staying?”

“For the next several days.” Without the slightest warning, she let out an excited squeal that echoed across the quiet driveway and before Yunho could even react, she launched herself at him. He barely had time to laugh before she collided with him, instinct taking over as his arms wrapped securely around her waist catching her effortlessly, lifting her completely off the ground as she wrapped both legs around his waist. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she laughed, cupping his face with both hands. “I take it you approve?” Instead of answering, she kissed him. It wasn’t slow or shy. It was bright, spontaneous and full of the kind of happiness that couldn’t be contained. Yunho smiled against her lips before kissing her back, one hand settling securely against the middle of her back while the other supported her beneath her thigh. When they finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his, still grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. “I love it.”

“I can see that.” He laughed, holding her just a little tighter as she laughed, shaking her head and his eyes searched hers. “I’ve never…” She looked back toward the villa, almost disbelieving it was real. “I’ve never seen somewhere this beautiful.” He followed her gaze. “It gets better.” She looked at him like he had completely lost his mind. “It gets better?” He nodded toward the sea. “You haven’t seen the view from the bedroom yet.” She narrowed her eyes playfully before stealing a quick kiss. “I’ve decided something.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’m never leaving.” Yunho chuckled, still holding her as though she weighed nothing. “I was hoping you’d say that.” A polite cough sounded somewhere behind them making them turn their heads in unison to find two impeccably dressed attendants standing beside the SUV, both pretending very hard not to smile as they waited beside the luggage. Y/N buried her face against Yunho’s shoulder with a groan. “We’ve had an audience this entire time, haven’t we?”

“They’ve been remarkably professional about it,” Yunho said, his grin growing wider as she laughed into his shoulder before finally lifting her head again. “Fine,” she declared. “Show me this ridiculously beautiful villa before I decide to climb onto the roof just to see the view.” Without setting her down, Yunho adjusted his hold and started walking toward the front entrance.

“Yunho.”

“Hm?”

“You know I can walk.”

“I know.”

“So why are you carrying me?” He looked down at her with a smile that was entirely too pleased with itself. “Because my wife jumped into my arms.”

“And?”

“I’m enjoying the consequences.” Yunho didn’t loosen his hold once. One arm remained securely beneath Y/N’s legs while the other supported her back, carrying her up the wide stone steps as though she’d become part of him somewhere between Hell and Greece. She laughed quietly, one arm looped around his neck, giving up on pretending she wanted to be put down as the front doors swung open with a flick of Yunho’s and cool air drifted out to meet them, scented faintly with lemon blossoms and polished cedar. The villa’s interior was just as breathtaking as its exterior. Sunlight poured through towering windows that overlooked the sea, illuminating creamy limestone floors and exposed wooden beams that stretched overhead. White linen curtains billowed gently with every breeze coming in from the open terrace doors, while soft neutral furnishings, woven rugs, and shelves lined with books gave the expansive rooms an effortless warmth that made the house feel lived in rather than merely luxurious. Y/N turned her head from one side to the other, trying to take everything in at once. “This is insane.”

“It’s comfortable,” Yunho replied with a teasing smile and she looked at him as though he said something completely outrageous. “Comfortable?”

“Yes.”

She gestured around the soaring room. “Your definition of comfortable is deeply concerning.” The attendants followed them inside with their luggage. “Your Highness,” one of them said politely, “where would you like the cases?” Yunho barely looked away from Y/N. “Just leave them by the front door. We’ll sort them out later.”

“Of course.”

The attendants bowed and quietly set the luggage neatly against the wall before slipping back outside, closing the doors behind them with barely a sound letting silence settle over the villa with only the distant rhythm of waves meeting the cliffs below remaining as Y/N smiled as she looked around again. “I don’t even know where to explore first.”

“The bedroom,” Yunho answered without hesitation and she laughed. “Biased.”

“Entirely.” He adjusted her slightly in his arms before heading toward the sweeping staircase. “You are seriously still carrying me.”

“I am.”

“My legs work.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“So…”

“They’re getting a break.”

She rolled her eyes, though the smile never left her face. “You’re impossible.”

“So you’ve said.” They climbed to the second floor, sunlight spilling across the landing from another wall of windows. Yunho turned down a quiet hallway before stopping outside a pair of tall wooden doors and nudged one open with his shoulder. The bedroom beyond was expansive without feeling ostentatious. White linen curtains framed open French doors leading onto a private balcony overlooking the Ionian sea. A fireplace sat opposite a large bed dressed in crisp white sheets, while the sound of the waves drifted inside with the breeze. Y/N stared for a long moment. “Okay….” She looked back at him with an almost disbelieving smile. “You were right.”

“I usually am.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“It already has.” He carried her a few more steps into the room before leaning close enough that only she could hear. “I was thinking,” he murmured with an unmistakably playful grin, “that we ought to properly christen the honeymoon suite.” Heat immediately rose to her cheeks and she laughed, giving his shoulder a light swat. “You’ve been here less than five minutes.”

“I’ve been remarkably patient.”

“Patient?”

“Exceptionally.”

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. “I think Greece is having a terrible influence on you.”

“I was going to blame my wife.” She met his eyes, unable to stop smiling as he dropped his glamour and let his horns on display. “I walked right into that one.”

“You did.” For a quiet moment, neither of them spoke as the breeze stirred the curtains, sunlight shimmering across the sea beyond the balcony, and the villa settled around them with a peaceful stillness neither had experienced in what felt like forever. Yunho looked from the view back to her. And he felt it then. A feeling that for the first time in his life…. scared the shit out of him…… he suddenly couldn’t imagine eternity without her. That realization hit hard as he kissed her with a slow, deliberate hunger that hid the storm raging inside his chest, swallowing down his feelings and letting it fuel the way his lips moved over hers instead.

He guided her backward without breaking the kiss, lowering her onto the mattress with careful control, his larger frame hovering above her as their tongues slid together and Y/N’s hands found the hem of his shirt, yanking it upward. He let her strip it off, the fabric whispering across his skin before she tossed it aside and slid off the bed onto her knees, fingers hooking into his shorts and tugging them down along with his underwear letting his dick sprang free, heavy and already half hard. She looked up at him with a smirk that made his pulse jump. “I just realized…” she murmured, wrapping her fingers around his shaft and giving it a slow stroke, “I’ve only tasted you once.” The memory of their first night flashed behind his eyes and Yunho’s lips curved into a grin as he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face exactly the way he had that night. “Open,” he said, voice low and she parted her lips as he leaned down and let a thick string of spit fall onto her tongue. She held it there for a moment, eyes locked on his, before closing her mouth and swallowing. Then she leaned in and dragged her tongue from the base of his dick all the way to the tip, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch as her hand stayed wrapped around the base and she opened wider and took the tip into her mouth, sucking gently at first, tongue swirling around it.

Yunho’s hand slid into her hair, not pushing, just resting there. “That’s it… fuck, just like that. Look at you taking me so well already.” She took more of him, inch by inch, until her nose brushed his pelvis and her throat fluttered around him. He groaned, hips twitching but staying still, letting her set the rhythm as she bobbed steadily, saliva dripping down his length, the wet sounds filling the quiet bedroom. Every time she pulled back to breathe, she licked along the underside before sinking down again, deeper each time. “Such a good girl,” he praised, voice rough. “Your throat feels fucking perfect around my dick. Keep going…. don’t stop.” She hummed around him, the vibration making his thighs tense as he let her stay in control, watching her work him with single minded focus until the pleasure built too high. His fingers tightened in her hair and he pulled her up, capturing her mouth again in a messy kiss as he kicked his shorts and underwear the rest of the way off along with his shoes, then reached for her clothes. Piece by piece he stripped her, lips following the newly exposed skin, kissing down her neck, across her collarbones, over the swell of her breasts, sinking lower, pressing open mouthed kisses to her stomach, her hips, the soft skin of her inner thighs. “Fuck…” he breathed against her, “I don’t think I’m ever going to get enough of you.”

Y/N’s fingers threaded through his hair, gripping one of his horns making him moan and his dick to twitch. “Again and again and again, huh?” she echoed him, voice teasing but warm and he answered by sliding two fingers through her folds, finding her already soaking wet. He pushed them inside her pussy in one smooth motion, curling them against her front wall while his other hand lifted toward her mouth. “Suck,” he ordered and she took his middle finger between her lips, sucking it wetly. When it was dripping, he pulled it free and reached behind her, pressing it against her tight rim. He worked it inside her ass slowly while his other two fingers kept thrusting into her pussy. The dual stretch made her moan and rock against his hand as he fucked both holes with steady rhythm, watching her face as pleasure built.

Her walls fluttered around his fingers as she came with a sharp cry, pussy clenching hard, ass squeezing his finger. Yunho didn’t stop though until the tremors eased, then withdrew his hand and licked his fingers that were buried in her pussy clean. Before he could move, Y/N surged forward, catching him off guard. She shoved his chest and he went down onto the bed and she climbed up after him, crawling over his body with a smirk, then turned and wiggled her ass right in front of his face. “You want it?” she teased, looking back over her shoulder and a low growl rumbled from Yunho’s chest as he grabbed her hips and yanked her back. “You sure?”

“Make me scream,” she grinned and his hand cracked across one ass cheek making her gasp, then she bent forward, arching her back and presenting herself to him. Yunho gripped her hips, lined up, and sank into her pussy first, taking his time, rolling his hips in deep, measured thrusts that coated his dick in her arousal. She grew wetter with every stroke, slick sounds filling the room. When she was dripping and moaning, he pulled out and brought his soaked dick to her ass, pressing the tip against her rim, pushing in slowly, giving her time to adjust to the thicker stretch. Y/N gasped his name as he bottomed out, her body trembling. Yunho stayed still, leaning down to kiss along her spine, one hand reaching beneath her to rub slow circles over her clit while the other teased her pussy with two fingers again. And only when she relaxed did he start moving, long, deliberate thrusts that let her feel every inch. He built the pace gradually, hips snapping harder as her moans grew louder and she sobbed his name, pushing back to meet him. “Fuck me,” she begged. “Please…. baby… just fuck me.”

Something in him snapped at the way she begged and called him baby. Yunho’s grip tightened and he started pounding into her ass, the bed creaking under the force. She cried out, fingers clawing at the sheets, begging him not to stop as he pulled her upright against his chest, one hand wrapping around her throat while the other guided her own fingers down to her pussy. “Put them in,” he growled against her ear. “Clench around them.” She slid two fingers inside herself, sobbing as her walls squeezed and Yunho kept fucking her ass in hard, relentless strokes while his fingers rubbed tight circles over her clit. “Mine,” he snarled.

“Yours,” she gasped.

“My pussy.”

“Your pussy.”

“My ass.”

“Your ass.”

The words fed the fire between them as her body shook harder with every thrust. And when she finally broke, she screamed his name, squirting around her own fingers, ass clenching rhythmically around his him. Yunho held her upright, fucking her through it until his own release hit and he buried himself deep, filling her ass and groaning against her neck. They collapsed onto the bed together, breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat. Yunho stayed inside her for a long moment, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder before slowly pulling out, gathering her close, one arm draping over her waist, the unspoken realization of what she meant to him now still burning quietly in his chest as he held her through the aftershocks.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Pandemonium had never been quiet. The palace breathed with constant motion, servants crossing endless corridors, nobles arriving without invitation, ancient demons arguing over matters that had somehow remained unresolved for millennia. Yet somehow, over all of it, Lucifer’s voice still managed to dominate. “I said bigger.” Several servants froze as Seonghwa pinched the bridge of his nose without looking up from the parchment spread across the council table. “Your Majesty…” Lucifer stood before an enormous tapestry depicting Hell’s founding, gesturing animatedly as though the entire celebration already existed in his head. “I want every noble house invited.” Seonghwa sighed. “Every noble house?”

“Yes.” Lucifer replied like it was obvious. “The last time every noble house attended the same event…” he interrupted Seonghwa mid complaint. “Three duels.” Seonghwa corrected him. “Seven.” Lucifer waved a dismissive hand. “Minor details.” Seonghwa gave him a deadpan look. “They burned down the east ballroom.” Lucifer shrugged as if it were no big deal. “We rebuilt it.”

“They poisoned each other’s wine.”

“They survived.”

“Barely.” Lucifer finally looked at him. “And?” Seonghwa stared back. “You’re impossible.” Lucifer smiled smugly. “I rule Hell. I’ve earned it.” A reluctant laugh escaped Seonghwa despite himself. “So what exactly are we celebrating?” Lucifer looked almost offended by the question. “My daughter in law.” Seonghwa dipped his quill into ink. “You do realize most of the aristocracy still hasn’t accepted the marriage.”

“Then they’ll attend.”

“And if they refuse?”

“They won’t.”

“Because?” Lucifer smiled in that uniquely terrifying way only the Devil could. “Because I’m inviting them.” Seonghwa made another note. “So…” Lucifer clasped his hands behind his back, beginning to pace. “I want music.”

“Noted.”

“A feast.”

“Obviously.”

“I want every hall decorated.”

“I’ll inform the staff.”

“And gifts.”

Seonghwa paused. “Gifts?”

“For Y/N.”

“You’ve already given them a villa for their honeymoon.” Lucifer looked genuinely puzzled. “So?” Before Seonghwa could answer, the massive chamber doors swung open with enough force to echo through the throne room. Neither of them looked surprised as an older demon strode inside without waiting to be announced. Tall, broad shouldered, silver threaded through long black hair that hung past his shoulders, Eres carried himself with the effortless authority of someone who had ruled his own territories long before most kingdoms on Earth had existed. Curving obsidian horns framed a face carved with centuries of experience rather than age, and the crimson embroidery stitched into his dark robes marked him as one of Hell’s oldest noble houses. His expression, however….. was anything but composed. “My king.” Lucifer’s smile disappeared. “Eres.” Seonghwa quietly set his quill down. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit. Eres stopped several paces before the throne, his green eyes fixed entirely on Lucifer. “I’ve just returned from the eastern territories.”

“I gathered.”

“I was informed…” His jaw tightened. “that Prince Yunho has been bound.” Lucifer had to refrain from being a smartass. “He has.”

“To a human.”

“He has.” Silence settled over the room until finally, Eres laughed but it held no humor whatsoever. “Tell me they’re mistaken.”

“They aren’t.”

“You allowed this?”

“I did more than allow it.” Lucifer folded his hands calmly behind his back. “I blessed the marriage.” The words landed like a blade as Eres stared at him. Then disbelief gave way to anger. “For decades…” His voice remained controlled, though only barely. “For decades we discussed an alliance.” Lucifer remained perfectly still. “We did.”

“My daughter has spent years preparing.”

“I know.”

“We agreed the Prince would one day marry Estrie.”

“We discussed the possibility.”

Eres took another step forward. “It was more than a possibility.”

“No.” Lucifer’s voice stayed level. “It wasn’t.”

“It was understood.”

“It was assumed.” The distinction was razor thin and devastating. Eres’ eyes flashed. “My house has remained loyal to yours for over twelve hundred years.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“My armies answered every summons.”

“They did.”

“My family has stood beside yours through every rebellion.”

“And I’ve appreciated it.”

Eres spread his hands. “And this…” His voice cracked with restrained fury. “is how that loyalty is repaid?” Lucifer’s expression softened only slightly. “No.”

“It feels remarkably similar.”

“The marriage was never promised.”

“You never denied it.”

“I also never accepted it.” The room fell silent again and Seonghwa quietly looked toward the floor. He’d been present for many of those discussions over the years. Lucifer was right. He had never once promised Yunho to Estrie. Hell’s nobility had simply convinced themselves it would happen. Eres exhaled slowly through his nose. “My daughter loves him.” Lucifer had to refrain from rolling his eyes. “As do many.”

“She has for nearly seventy years.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“And now she learns…” His laugh returned, brittle and hollow. “from gossip.” A flicker of actual amusement crossed Lucifer’s face. “I intended to speak with you personally.”

“When?”

“When Yunho returned.”

“After introducing his human wife to the court?” Eres practically spat the word human out in disgust. Lucifer didn’t answer though. “I see.” Eres nodded and turned as though to leave before stopping. And without looking back, he spoke quietly. “Tell me one thing.” Lucifer waited. “Is she truly worth dismantling centuries of alliances?” The Devil looked toward the towering windows overlooking Pandemonium and when he answered, his voice carried none of the authority of a king. Only the certainty of a father. “My son smiled.” Eres frowned as Lucifer looked back at him. “For the first time since he lost his mother…” A faint mournful smile touched his lips. “my son smiled because he was happy.” The throne room became impossibly still but Lucifer’s gaze never wavered. “No alliance is worth taking that away from him.” Eres held his stare for another long moment before inclining his head just enough to acknowledge the answer. Whether he accepted it was another matter entirely. Without another word, Eres turned and walked out of the throne room, the enormous doors closing behind him with a thunderous boom that echoed through Pandemonium. Only after the silence returned did Seonghwa glance sideways at Lucifer. “So…” Lucifer sighed. “So.” Seonghwa stared at him. “I suppose I should make the guest list a little… flexible.” Lucifer rubbed a hand across his face. “No.” Seonghwa blinked, confused. “No?” The Devil’s eyes gleamed with quiet resolve. “Invite House Eres.” Seonghwa stared at him. “To the welcome celebration?”

“Especially them.” A slow, knowing smile spread across Seonghwa’s face. “You want the entire nobility to meet her.” Lucifer returned a menacing smile of his own. “If they’re going to question the Princess of Hell…” His voice lowered with unmistakable confidence. “I’d much rather they do it to her face for my son to see.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The drive to Melissani Cave wound through winding mountain roads lined with olive groves and towering cypress trees, the late morning sun spilling across the landscape in sheets of gold. Every few minutes the sea appeared between the hills, impossibly blue before disappearing behind another curve. Y/N had spent most of the drive with the window down, one arm resting against the door as the warm Mediterranean air played with her hair. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at this.”

“You’ve said that six times.”

“I’ve meant it all six.” Yunho smiled to himself as the rental car Jeep rolled into the small parking area overlooking the famous cave. The moment the engine shut off, Y/N was already reaching for the door. “Hurry.” Yunho raised an eyebrow. “We’re on vacation.”

“I know.”

“So why are we in a rush?”

“Because…” She pointed dramatically toward the trees. “there’s an underground lake over there remember.” He laughed. “I don’t think it’s going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m fairly confident.” She was already halfway out of the car before he finished speaking. A few minutes later they followed the shaded stone path leading toward the entrance. Y/N had worn the swimsuit Yunho insisted on her buying in Athens. A black bikini peeked through the sheer black mesh cover up that flowed around her legs with every step, the fabric catching the breeze while sunlight filtered through it. Oversized sunglasses rested atop her head now instead of over her eyes, and simple black sandals clicked softly against the stone walkway. Yunho had been staring for nearly five minutes. Not discreetly. Not even pretending. And of course caught him. “What?”

“What?”

“You’ve looked at me exactly twelve times since we got out of the car.”

“I don’t think that’s accurate.”

“I’ve been counting.”

He considered that. “Thirteen?” She snorted as he looked her up and down once more, completely shameless. “I can’t help it. My wife is beautiful.”

“I appreciate the compliment.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.” He grinned, playfully spanking her ass. “It was an observation.” A laugh escaped her before she could stop it and they continued down the path, more tourists came into view, families, couples, photographers, all making their way toward the cave entrance. Y/N leaned closer to Yunho, letting him wrap an arm around her. “I have a question.”

“Hm?”

“Do demons… get sunburned?”

Yunho looked genuinely thoughtful. “No.”

“Lucky.”

“We do overheat, though.”

She looked at him skeptically. “Really?”

“No.”

She smacked his arm. “You lying asshole.”

“I couldn’t resist.” He laughed as the path narrowed before opening onto a natural limestone sinkhole and Y/N stopped so abruptly that Yunho nearly walked into her. “Whoa.” The cave seemed to open beneath the earth itself. Sunlight poured through the collapsed ceiling high above, striking the water below like a spotlight. The lake glowed. Not blue. Not turquoise. But something between sapphire and liquid glass. The light shifted constantly beneath the surface, rippling over ancient limestone walls that curved into darkness beyond where the sun could reach. Small wooden rowboats drifted silently across the water, each carrying only a handful of people while local guides steered them through the cavern with long wooden poles. Y/N simply stared. “I…” She couldn’t find the words as Yunho watched her instead of the cave. “I’ve never seen water…” She laughed softly, almost to herself. “…I didn’t know water could look like that.” The sunlight caught in her eyes as she stepped closer to the railing. “It almost doesn’t look real.”

“It is.”

“I know.” She smiled without taking her eyes off the shimmering lake. “That’s the crazy part.” A boatman called out from below, waving toward the next group waiting to board. Yunho extended his hand. “Ready?” Y/N looked from the cave…. to him… then slipped her fingers into his. “I have a feeling,” she said, smiling brightly, “this is going to be one of those memories I’m still talking about when I’m almost too old to remember.” Yunho’s thumb brushed gently across the back of her hand, her missing the look on his face at the mention of her getting old. Her immortality lingering in the back of his thoughts as if mocking him for being too much of a coward to kill her. “I hope so.”Hand in hand, they descended the worn stone steps toward the waiting boat, disappearing into the brilliant blue heart of the cave. The little wooden boat drifted away from the dock with barely a ripple, its elderly guide using a long polished pole to push them silently across the glowing lake. The deeper they ventured beneath the limestone ceiling, the quieter the outside world became. Conversations softened into whispers as everyone instinctively looked upward. Sunlight poured through the opening high above, scattering across the water until it looked less like a lake and more like liquid sapphire. Y/N sat near the front beside Yunho, one hand trailing lazily just above the water’s surface without quite touching it. She couldn’t stop looking around. Every few seconds another shaft of sunlight found a different angle, painting the cave walls in shifting shades of blue and silver. “This feels fake,” she murmured and Yunho smiled, his shoulder brushing her. “You’re saying that a lot today.”

“Because everything keeps looking like someone edited reality.”

“I’ll admit…” He looked around himself. “Earth has its moments.” She nudged him lightly. “I knew you’d finally admit we’re prettier than Hell.”

“I’m not admitting anything.”

“You just did.”

“I said Earth has moments.” She grinned triumphantly anyway and several seats behind them, an older couple chuckled. The woman had silver hair tucked beneath a wide straw hat while her husband sat beside her with one arm comfortably around her shoulders. Deep laugh lines framed both of their faces, the kind earned over decades rather than years. “You two are adorable,” the woman said warmly making Y/N glance back smiling. “Thank you.”

“Vacation?” Y/N looked at Yunho before answering. “Honeymoon, actually.” The woman’s expression brightened immediately. “Oh! Congratulations!” Her husband reached over to squeeze her hand. “Best kind of trip.” The woman looked between them again before her brow furrowed slightly. “Although…” Y/N tilted her head. “What?”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking.” She smiled apologetically. “Where are your rings?” For the first time since the binding… Y/N blinked as her left hand instinctively lifted. Bare and empty. She looked toward Yunho’s. Also bare. The realization hit both of them at exactly the same time as she had the horn shaped mark around her wrist. He had the feather shaped mark winding around his own. They’d been so consumed by surviving earthquakes, Hell, demon politics, weddings officiated by Reapers, and honeymoon sex that neither of them had once stopped to think about wedding rings. Y/N laughed awkwardly. “That’s actually a really good question.” The older woman smiled knowingly. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry. My husband lost his first ring three weeks after we got married.”

“I dropped it into the Adriatic,” the man admitted sheepishly.

“You threw up over the side of a ferry.”

“I was seasick.”

“You insisted you weren’t.”

“I was wrong.”

Y/N laughed. “We…” She glanced sideways at Yunho. “had a very unconventional wedding.”

“I’ll say,” Yunho muttered under his breath and she bumped his knee with hers before looking back at the couple. “We just… haven’t gotten around to rings yet.” The older woman nodded thoughtfully. “That happens more often than people think.” Her husband smiled fondly at her. “We actually came to Greece for our honeymoon too.” Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Forty years ago,” the woman said, squeezing her husband’s hand again. “This cave was one of our first stops.”

“We promised each other we’d come back someday.”

“It only took us four decades.”

Her husband laughed. “Life gets busy.”

“It does.” Y/N looked between them, watching the quiet ease with which they sat together. They weren’t constantly talking. They didn’t need to be. Every now and then one would simply glance at the other, smile, and look back toward the shimmering water as though forty years had taught them an entire language without words. “They’re relationship goals,” Y/N whispered quietly to Yunho. He looked at the couple. Then at her. “I can see that.” The older woman overheard just enough to laugh. “My dear…” she said, smiling at Y/N. “The secret isn’t finding someone exciting.”

“No?”

“It’s finding someone you still choose when life stops being exciting.” Her husband nodded. “Eventually the butterflies settle down.”

“And then?” The older woman smiled up at her husband. “If you’re lucky…” Her fingers intertwined with his. “you realize you married your best friend.” Silence settled over the little boat again and Y/N found herself staring thoughtfully at the rippling water. Beside her, Yunho quietly reached over and laced his fingers through hers and she squeezed back without thinking. The older couple smiled to themselves as the boat drifted beneath another shaft of brilliant sunlight and the woman looked toward Yunho with a teasing smile. “And young man…”

“Yes?”

“When you finally buy her a ring…” She winked. “make sure it’s one she’ll never want to take off.” Yunho’s gaze shifted from the woman to Y/N’s empty left hand… then to the horn shaped mark circling her wrist and a quiet smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I think,” he said softly, more to himself than anyone else, “I already know exactly what it should look like.” Y/N looked up at him curiously. “You do?” He only smiled, glancing at the water around them. “I have an idea.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The little beachfront restaurant sat tucked between swaying palms and the shoreline, strings of warm golden lights hanging overhead like scattered stars while the last rays of the sun melted into the Ionian sea. Waves rolled lazily onto the sand only a few yards away, their quiet rhythm blending with soft Greek music drifting from somewhere farther down the beach. It was the kind of evening that felt too beautiful to belong to real life as Y/N stepped onto the wooden deck ahead of Yunho, smoothing the soft white romper she’d chosen for dinner. The lightweight fabric danced around her legs every time the sea breeze rolled through, the lace up sandals winding elegantly around her calves. The hostess greeted them warmly before leading them toward a table set almost directly on the sand. Candles flickered inside small glass lanterns, their flames dancing every time the breeze swept through. The horizon burned orange. Then pink. Then deep violet. Y/N sighed as she sat down. “I’m serious…. I don’t think I’m ever leaving.” Yunho pulled out her chair before taking the seat across from her. “I could arrange that.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

She looked out toward the sea again. “I could stay here forever.” The word caught him. Forever. His smile remained exactly where it was but something behind his eyes shifted. The waiter arrived, taking their orders before disappearing just as quietly, leaving them alone with the sound of the ocean. Y/N rested her chin in her hand, watching the last edge of the sun disappear beneath the water. She didn’t notice Yunho watching her. He wasn’t seeing the beach anymore. He was seeing… years. Decades. The first silver strand in her hair. The tiny lines beside her smile. Hands that would someday wrinkle. A back that might ache. Eyes that would eventually struggle to read. She’d joked about talking about Greece when she was almost too old to remember. At the time, he’d managed to hide what that sentence had done to him. Now… watching the sunset paint her face… he couldn’t stop imagining it. She was twenty four. So heartbreakingly young as she laughed at something happening farther down the beach where a little girl chased gulls through the surf. The sound pulled another thought through him. One day… she wouldn’t look like this anymore. Unless… his father’s words slipped back into his mind with merciless clarity. Kill her while she’s still young… his jaw tightened. No. He couldn’t. He already knew he couldn’t. Which meant… she would grow old. While he remained exactly the same.

“Yunho?” He didn’t answer. “Baby?” The nickname finally reached him. He blinked, focusing his gaze on her. Y/N was leaning forward now, concern replacing her smile. “You’ve been staring at me for like…” She glanced at the sky as if calculating. “ten minutes.”

“I have?”

“You didn’t even blink.” He tried to smile but didn’t quite reach his eyes. She reached across the table, gently taking his hand. “What’s wrong?” His thumb brushed absentmindedly across her knuckles but nothing came out. Because where would he even begin? By the way, you’re going to die someday unless… No. My father wants me to kill you before that happens. Absolutely not. There’s a way for you to live forever, but… He couldn’t. Not here. Not while she still looked so happy. The candlelight flickered between them as Y/N squeezed his hand again. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“The one where you’re thinking so hard you’ve forgotten I’m sitting in front of you.” A quiet breath escaped him and are waited patiently. Until finally…… very quietly… Yunho let it out. “There’s something I haven’t told you.” Her smile faded just enough for concern to take its place. “What is it?” He looked into her eyes. Then down at their joined hands. Then back at her. “I just…” His voice caught before he tried again. “I don’t know how to tell you.” The waves continued to roll onto the shore. The music carried softly through the evening air. And for the first time since arriving in Greece… the perfect honeymoon felt very far away as the words sat between them for so long that the sounds of the restaurant slowly filled the silence. Glasses clinked. Someone laughed somewhere farther down the beach. A server walked past carrying a tray of grilled fish, the scent of lemon and herbs briefly cutting through the salty evening air. Yunho barely noticed any of it. His entire world had narrowed to the woman sitting across from him. He took a slow breath. “When a mortal soul becomes bound to an immortal one…” His fingers remained loosely intertwined with hers atop the table. “…the binding itself doesn’t change the mortal.” Y/N listened without interrupting. “You stay human.” She nodded. “I noticed.”

“You still age. You can still get sick. And…” His voice became quieter. “you’ll eventually die.” The words felt wrong leaving his mouth. “I won’t.” Y/N furrowed her brows. “Won’t what?”

“I won’t die.” He shook his head. “But…. I don’t want to lose you.” Her confusion deepened. “There is…” He searched for words that somehow didn’t exist. “Another part of the binding. If…” His jaw tightened. “…if the immortal bound to the mortal is the one who kills them…”

“What?”

“Their soul returns.” He forced himself to continue. “They wake again. Immortal.” The breeze stirred the candle between them as Y/N simply looked at him. Trying to understand. “So…” Her voice had become almost a whisper. “If…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence so he did it for her. “If I kill you…” His throat tightened around the words. “you would come back.” She looked horrified. “Immortal.” Yunho squeezed her hand. “But I’m not going to.” She finally looked back at him. “What?”

“I’m not.”

“Yunho…”

“I can’t.” His voice cracked. “I thought…” He laughed once, bitterly. “I thought maybe I could.” She watched him carefully. “My father believes I should while you still have your youth. He thinks…” Yunho looked out toward the darkening sea. “…it would spare you.” He couldn’t bring himself to explain the rest. That she’d never wrinkle. Never weaken. Never grow frail. Never leave him. He swallowed hard. “I can’t. Y/N I can’t kill you.” She opened her mouth but he kept talking anyway. “I keep trying to convince myself it’s logical.” He laughed quietly. “It isn’t.”

“It is.”

“It isn’t.” His eyes finally met hers again. “Because I…” The words caught. He’d faced armies. Kings. Archangels. Ancient demons. But none of them had ever made him hesitate like this. “I…” He rubbed a hand across his face. “I think… I’m pretty sure…” He laughed nervously at himself. “I’ve fallen in love with you.” The world seemed to stop. Even the waves sounded farther away and just Y/N simply stared as The Prince of Hell looked almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t planning on saying that tonight.” Or for a while. Because it was insane. They’d known each other a week.

“No?”

“I was hoping to have… significantly more dignity.” Despite everything… a tiny smile tugged at the corner of Y/N’s mouth. “You’ve picked a very romantic setting.” She teased. “I suppose I have.” Before either of them could say anything else, their waiter appeared with an apologetic smile. “Forgive the interruption.” Menus were gently set before them. “Are we ready to order?” Yunho looked at Y/N and she nodded. “I think so.” Several minutes later, after deciding on fresh seafood and roasted vegetables, the waiter disappeared once more, leaving them alone beneath the string lights. Neither spoke for a while. Yunho wondered if he’d ruined the evening. Or the honeymoon. Or everything. If she hates him? Then… Y/N quietly broke the silence. “So…” He looked up. “If you don’t…” She searched carefully for the words. “kill me…” He hated hearing her say it. “I’ll grow old normally?”

“Yes.”

She looked down at their joined hands. Then back at him. “Then do it.” His entire body froze. “What?” She held up a finger. “I mean…” A nervous laugh escaped her. “…not right now.” He continued staring. “I don’t want to die tomorrow.”

“Y/N…”

“But…” She looked out toward the moonlit sea for a long moment before returning her gaze to him. “I also don’t want to leave you.” Those six words stole every thought from his mind as she smiled sadly. “You’ve lived four hundred years. I’ve lived twenty four. If we really are…” She squeezed his hand gently. “bound forever…” Her voice softened. “Then I don’t want forever to end because I got old.” Emotion flashed across Yunho’s face so quickly she almost missed it. “I know that’s probably a terrifying thing to hear. But…” She smiled a little. “I’m also pretty sure I’m falling in love with you too.” Yunho stared at her, his immortal heart feeling as if it would blow into a million pieces inside his chest. “You…” She laughed softly. “I wasn’t planning on saying it tonight either.” For a long moment, neither of them spoke as the candle flickered between their hands. Then, finally, Yunho shook his head with an almost disbelieving smile. “You realize…”

“What?”

“this might be the strangest love confession in history.” Y/N laughed through the tears gathering in her eyes. “It definitely is.” He lifted her hand and pressed a gentle kiss across her knuckles. “We don’t have to decide tonight. We have time.” And Yunho allowed himself to believe it. Not because the decision had become easier. But because, whatever they chose, they would face it together.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Morning arrived slowly over Kefalonia. Golden sunlight spilled through the open balcony doors, carrying the scent of saltwater and blooming jasmine into the bedroom. White curtains swayed lazily in the breeze, and somewhere below, waves rolled rhythmically against the cliffs. Yunho opened his eyes first and for a long moment he didn’t move. Y/N was still asleep beside him, naked as he was, tangled in the white sheets, one arm stretched across the space where he’d been lying moments before. Her hair fanned across the pillow, the peaceful expression on her face completely at odds with everything they’d survived to reach this quiet little corner of Greece. He smiled despite himself. A week ago she’d been a stranger. Now… now couldn’t imagine waking up without seeing her there. Careful not to disturb her, Yunho slipped quietly out of bed, grabbing one of the lightweight white robes hanging near the bathroom, tying it loosely around his waist before glancing back one last time. She was still sleeping. “Good,” he murmured to himself. Maybe he could surprise her with breakfast.

The villa was almost unnaturally quiet as he padded downstairs, rubbing a hand through his silver hair. He hadn’t even made it halfway across the kitchen before the unmistakable sound of someone opening the refrigerator reached him and his entire body went rigid. Someone was in the kitchen. Every instinct sharpened at once as the refrigerator door swung shut. “Morning.” Yunho nearly jumped out of his skin. “What the fuck, Wooyoung?” Wooyoung stood there holding an orange juice carton like he’d lived in the villa his entire life. “What?” he replied innocently. “Good morning to you too.” Yunho blinked twice before glaring at the lust demon. “How did you get in here?”

“I opened the door.”

“I locked the door.”

“I’m a demon.”

“That’s not the point.” Wooyoung took a casual sip of juice. “I disagree.” Yunho stared at him in complete disbelief before noticing movement near the island countertop. Someone else was standing there. Dark hair. White linen shirt. Looking thoroughly uncomfortable. “San?” The archangel lifted one hand in an awkward little wave. “Hello.” Yunho slowly closed his eyes. “No.” Wooyoung looked confused. “No?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean…” Yunho pointed between the two of them. “absolutely not.” Wooyoung frowned. “You haven’t even heard why we’re here.”

“I don’t need to.”

“You really do.”

“I really don’t.”

Wooyoung sighed dramatically. “I need somewhere to hide.”

“Hide from who?”

Wooyoung hesitated. “Several people.”

“How several?”

San answered quietly. “Enough that we thought it was better not to count.” Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me you didn’t bring your problems to my honeymoon.”

“We didn’t bring them. They followed us.” Yunho looked from Wooyoung…. to San then back to Wooyoung. Then realization dawned and his eyes widened. “You two are hiding together.” Wooyoung smiled proudly. “We’re dating.”

“I gathered.”

“And we’re adorable.”

“Debatable.”

San coughed into his fist, unsuccessfully hiding a smile as Yunho pointed toward the front door. “No.” Wooyoung blinked. “No?”

“You and your fucking archangel boyfriend are not ruining my honeymoon.”

“We’re not ruining anything!”

“You appeared in my kitchen before breakfast!”

“We were very quiet about it.”

“You were stealing my orange juice!”

“I was borrowing it.”

“There is no universe where that’s borrowing.” Wooyoung opened his mouth to argue before the unmistakable sound of bare feet padding across the hardwood stairs echoed through the villa. Yunho’s eyes widened. “Oh, no…” Y/N wandered into the kitchen with sleepy eyes, one hand rubbing at them as she yawned. The white sheet she’d hastily wrapped around herself after realizing Yunho had disappeared was tucked securely beneath one arm, leaving one shoulder bare. She hadn’t even fully opened her eyes yet. “Baby…” she mumbled. “You left me…” Then she looked up and entire body froze. For a solid three seconds, nobody spoke. “Why is Wooyoung here?” Wooyoung slowly raised one hand. “Morning?” Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Wooyoung then to San who she had no idea was. Then at Yunho standing there in nothing but a robe. Then right back to Wooyoung. “Am I still asleep?”

“No,” Yunho answered unfortunately.

“I was hoping I was.”

Wooyoung offered her an awkward smile. “In my defense…”

“You have a defense?”

“I didn’t know you’d be downstairs this early.” Y/N looked down at the sheet wrapped around herself before letting out a tiny squeak. “Oh my God.” It wasn’t as bad as Seonghwa walking in on them in the shower but she was still naked under that sheet. Without another word, she spun around so fast the sheet nearly came loose, caught it at the last second, and bolted straight back toward the staircase. “I’ll… I’ll be back!” Her voice echoed from halfway upstairs. “With clothes!” The bedroom door slammed shut behind her. Wooyoung looked after her before slowly turning back to Yunho. “She looks thoroughly fucked out so I’m assuming the honeymoon has gone splendidly so far.” Yunho stared at him with the flattest expression imaginable. “I am going to throw you into Purgatory myself.” San quietly took another sip of coffee he’d apparently already made for himself. “I did suggest knocking.”

“You did,” Wooyoung admitted.

“I distinctly remember saying, Perhaps we shouldn’t surprise the newlyweds.”

“You did say that.”

“And yet…” Wooyoung shrugged. “I thought it’d be funny.” Yunho let out a long sigh, dropping his forehead briefly into one hand. “I cannot believe this is my honeymoon.” A few minutes later, the bedroom door opened again and Y/N descended the stairs much more cautiously this time, now dressed in a pair of denim shorts and one of Yunho’s oversized black Henleys that nearly reached the middle of her thighs. She stopped beside Yunho, lightly bumping his arm. “You could’ve warned me.”

“I just found them. There wasn’t exactly time for a detailed explanation.” She huffed a laugh despite herself before looking back at Wooyoung. “So…. What are you doing here?” Wooyoung smiled brightly at her. “Well…. the big guy upstairs kind of found out one of his favorite archangels have been topping me and he might be a tad bit mad.” San closed his eyes. “I told you that wasn’t how you should phrase it.”

“It was the quickest explanation.”

“It was certainly… an explanation.”

Y/N looked from Wooyoung to San, then slowly toward Yunho. “Did I hear that correctly?” Yunho sighed. “Unfortunately.” Wooyoung leaned casually against the kitchen island. “So now Heaven is looking for him.” San raised a finger. “Technically, they’re looking for both of us.”

“True.”

Y/N frowned. “Because you’re… together?” San nodded. “It isn’t exactly encouraged.” Wooyoung snorted. “Encouraged is one way to put it.” San rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely apologetic. “We really are sorry.” Y/N looked at him. He was the complete opposite of Wooyoung. Calm where Wooyoung was chaos. Polite where Wooyoung was… well, Wooyoung. “So…” she said carefully, “how long are you planning on hiding here?” Wooyoung looked at San and neither answered making Yunho glare at them. “Absolutely not.”

“What?”

“That silence tells me you don’t have a plan.”

“We’re figuring it out.”

Y/N laughed again before walking over to the coffee machine. “Okay,” she said, reaching for a mug. “Before anybody starts another argument…” She glanced over her shoulder. “does anyone else want coffee?”

“I would love some more,” San answered politely as Wooyoung raised his hand. “I’ll take some.” Yunho stared at him. “You have some nerve asking my wife to make you coffee after breaking into our villa.” Wooyoung looked at Y/N. “See! I told you he’s possessive.” Y/N smiled over the rim of the coffee tin. “I’ve noticed.” Yunho looked at her in mock betrayal. “You were supposed to be on my side.”

“I am.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because…” She laughed softly as she measured out the coffee grounds. “I kind of think this is the most normal morning we’ve had all week.” The kitchen fell quiet for a moment. She wasn’t wrong. No earthquakes. No demon politics. No assassination threats. Yunho looked around the room, then back at Y/N and a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I suppose it is.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Late afternoon sunshine bathed the harbor in warm gold by the time the four of them finally left the villa. Y/N stepped out onto the stone walkway first, a pair of sunglasses perched atop her head as the sea breeze immediately caught the flowing hem of her black dress. The long sleeves hugged her arms while the cutouts at her waist revealed just enough skin to keep it playful, the asymmetrical skirt drifting behind her with every step. It was the kind of outfit that looked effortlessly elegant against the whitewashed buildings of Kefalonia, especially with the sparkling blue water stretching endlessly beyond them. Yunho followed a second later, locking the villa behind him. His silver hair caught the sunlight as he adjusted the sleeves of the red and black flannel hanging open over a fitted black tank top. Black cargo shorts sat comfortably on his hips, sunglasses hooked through the neckline of his shirt. It was the closest thing the Prince of Hell owned to vacation clothes. He looked up and stopped. “Seriously?” Y/N turned in a slow circle, letting the breeze lift the skirt slightly before planting a hand on her hip. “What?”

“You couldn’t have warned me.”

“About?”

“That.”

She looked down at herself with exaggerated innocence as he laughed under his breath. “I was hoping we’d actually make it through today’s sightseeing.”

“We are.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to spend the entire day making sure every man around the island remembers how to keep his eyes to himself.”

Y/N grinned. “There he is.” Her grin slowly turned into a smirk.

“Who?”

“My possessive husband.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm.” She reached up, tugging lightly on one of the strings near the neckline of her dress and Yunho’s eyes immediately followed the movement. “Don’t.” A mischievous smile spread across her face. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“You were thinking about it.”

“I was.”

“I knew it.”

She laughed, slipping her hand into his before he could continue pouting. “I dressed up for you. Because I love the way you look at me.” That stole every remaining complaint from him and his ears turned the faintest shade of pink. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I just did.” Before Yunho could recover enough to answer, the front gate creaked open behind them. “Oh good!” Wooyoung announced brightly. “You’re finally ready.” Yunho’s shoulders sagged. “No.” San offered an apologetic smile as he stepped through the gate behind him, dressed simply in a loose cream button up with the sleeves rolled to his forearms and light linen trousers. “We brought pastries.” Wooyoung triumphantly held up a paper bag. “And coffee.”

“I don’t care.”

“They’re still warm.”

“I still don’t care.”

Wooyoung looked genuinely offended at Yunho. “You don’t care about pastries?”

“I care that you’re here.”

“We’re sightseeing together.”

“No, we’re sightseeing.” Yunho pointed between himself and Y/N. Then pointed toward Wooyoung and San. “You two are following us.”

“It’s the same island.”

“Go see a different part of it.”

Wooyoung draped an arm around San’s shoulders. “But we like this part.” San quietly lifted the paper bag. “There are pistachio croissants.” Y/N’s head turned so quickly Yunho almost laughed. “Pistachio?” The archangel nodded. “The bakery owner insisted we try them.” Y/N looked at Yunho. Then at the bag. Then back at her husband. “Can they come?” Yunho stared at her in disbelief. “You’ve betrayed me…”

“They have pastries.”

“You were on my side five seconds ago.”

“I still am.”

“You switched teams for baked goods.”

“I switched teams for pistachio baked goods.”

Wooyoung pumped a victorious fist into the air. “Yes!” Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose. “I cannot believe I just lost my wife to a croissant.”

“You didn’t lose her,” Wooyoung said, already pulling one from the bag. “You merely underestimated the power of European pastries.” San accepted his own pastry before offering one to Y/N with a warm smile and she took it happily. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Y/N smiled at San before she looked up at Yunho, slipping her hand back into his. “Come on, Prince of Hell.” She tugged him gently toward the winding streets overlooking the harbor. “I want to see the island.” Still muttering under his breath about uninvited guests and stolen honeymoons, Yunho let himself be pulled along anyway, his fingers tightening around hers as the four of them disappeared into the maze of sunlit streets above the sparkling Ionian sea. The streets of Argostoli were alive with the lazy rhythm of a Greek afternoon. Balconies overflowed with bright bougainvillea, cats lounged in patches of warm sunlight without a care in the world, and every few storefronts another café spilled laughter onto the cobblestone streets. The scent of fresh bread, citrus, and the sea drifted together on the breeze as tourists wandered between little family owned shops selling handmade ceramics, olive oils, local wines, and shelves full of tiny souvenirs. Y/N was absolutely in heaven. “Ooh.” She disappeared into yet another little shop before Yunho had even finished the last bite of his croissant. He stopped outside the doorway. “Again?” She looked over her shoulder. “They have magnets.”

San accepted the paper shopping bag Y/N had already filled with postcards and little bottles of locally made olive oil. “I can carry these.”

“Thank you.”

Yunho reached for the bag. “I’ll carry them.” San immediately let go. “Of course.” Y/N smiled to herself. There it was again. She wandered deeper into the shop, picking up a tiny hand painted ceramic pomegranate before holding it toward the sunlight. “It’s cute.”

“It’s fragile.”

“I know.”

“It’ll break in the suitcase.”

“I know.”

“You’re buying it anyway.”

“I am.”

Yunho sighed dramatically before taking it from her with surprising care and wrapping it back in the tissue paper exactly as the shop owner had packed it. She watched him for a second. Then another. Until finally… a smile slowly spread across her face. “You know… you’re kind of like a puppy.” Yunho looked up. “Excuse me?” She nodded confidently. “You follow me everywhere.”

“I do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

“I’m making sure you don’t accidentally buy the entire island.”

“Mhm.”

“You have no sense of restraint. And honestly I blame myself.”

She folded her arms. “And yet…” He raised an eyebrow. “you’ve been carrying every single bag I’ve bought.”

“That’s called being helpful.”

“No.” She stepped closer, grinning. “That’s called puppy behavior.” Wooyoung laughed so hard he nearly dropped his coffee ad Y/N slipped her hand into Yunho’s again. “You know…” she said more quietly this time, “I kind of like having my own very tall puppy.”

“I am not a puppy.”

“No?”

“No.”

“You just happen to follow me into every shop.”

“I’m supervising.”

“Mhm.”

“So you don’t spend three thousand euros on decorative spoons.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You were thinking about it.”

“I was considering them.”

“I knew it.”

She laughed, leaning briefly against his arm before they wandered back outside into the warm afternoon sun. They spent another hour weaving through narrow streets lined with colorful storefronts until Y/N suddenly stopped in front of a small artisan shop tucked between a bakery and a florist. Wind chimes danced gently outside the entrance. Inside, shelves overflowed with handcrafted wooden music boxes, carved figurines, embroidered tablecloths, and delicate stained glass ornaments that caught the sunlight like little jewels. Yunho slowed beside her and his smile faded into something quieter as his eyes lingered on a small carved wooden jewelry box decorated with pressed flowers beneath polished glass. “My mom would’ve loved this place.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Y/N turned toward him. Watching as he seemed to lose him for a moment in memories. “You’ve… never really talked about her.” He didn’t answer. For several long seconds he simply stared through the shop window. Even Wooyoung fell silent and San quietly drifted toward the opposite side of the street, giving them space without saying a word. Y/N didn’t push. She simply waited until Yunho exhaled slowly. “My father met her in Korea.” His voice had become softer than she’d ever heard it. “The early 1600s. She was a witch.” He smiled faintly. “She’d already been practicing for decades.” He looked toward the mountains rising beyond the town. “She fascinated him.”

“I can imagine.”

“He wasn’t supposed to stay.”

“But he did.”

“He stayed for almost thirty years.”

Y/N’s eyebrows lifted.

“Thirty?”

“He kept finding excuses.” A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Yunho’s mouth. “He’d claimed he was studying humans.” Y/N laughed quietly. “He was studying one human.”

“Exactly.” Yunho looked back toward the little jewelry box. “They fell in love.”

“And she knew… who he was?”

“From the first day.”

“How?”

“She told me the first thing she did when he appeared in her cottage…” His smile became almost nostalgic. “was throw salt at him.” Y/N stared at him, a small snort leaving her. “What?”

“It didn’t work.”

She laughed. “I assume not.”

“She told him afterward she knew he wasn’t a ghost.”

“What did she think he was?”

“A very handsome problem.”

Y/N grinned. “You and your father seemed to have that in common.” Yunho chuckled softly, his smile slowly disappearing again. “When she was around forty… my father brought her and me to Hell.” Y/N looked at him in surprise. “She lived there?”

“For years.” He nodded. “She had her own gardens. My father rebuilt an entire courtyard because she said Hell needed flowers.” Y/N couldn’t help smiling at the image. “I can actually picture Lucifer doing that.”

“He complained the entire time.”

“But he still did it.”

“He always did.” The warmth left Yunho’s expression. “But…” His voice became almost a whisper. “They weren’t bound.” Y/N’s smile faded. “So…”

“So she stayed human.” Yunho swallowed the lump in his throat at those last memories of his mother. “She kept getting older.” The sounds of the busy street seemed to fade around them as he looked out toward the sea. “My father could’ve interfered. But she wouldn’t let him. She said death had already chosen its path.” His fingers tightened almost unconsciously around Y/N’s hand. “By the time she became sick… she was tired. She told him she’d had a beautiful life.” His voice grew rough. “She didn’t want the man she loved spending eternity wondering whether she’d only stayed because he refused to let her go.” Y/N felt her chest tighten. “What did he do?”

“He respected her choice.” Yunho stared silently toward the glittering Ionian Sea. “I’ve never seen my father beg anyone before.” He gave a quiet, humorless laugh. Yunho had been too young to understand it then. Looking back now, he realized that wasn’t the King of Hell kneeling beside his mother’s bed. It was simply a husband who couldn’t imagine a world without his wife. “But he begged her.” His eyes never left the horizon. “And she still smiled at him… held his face… and told him that loving someone doesn’t mean stealing every goodbye.” For a long moment, neither of them moved. Y/N simply reached for his hand with both of hers. And this time… it wasn’t because he was following her. It was because she realized exactly where his fear came from. It had never been about immortality alone. He had watched the most powerful being he’d ever known discover that even love couldn’t always win against time.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Night settled over the villa with the slow, easy rhythm that seemed unique to the Greek islands. The balcony doors had been left cracked open, allowing the cool evening breeze to drift through the bedroom, carrying the distant sounds of waves rolling against the cliffs below. Moonlight spilled across the hardwood floors in pale silver ribbons as steam still lingered in the adjoining bathroom. The shower shut off and a moment later Yunho stepped out, a white towel slung low around his waist as he rubbed another through his damp hair. Water still traced lazy paths down his shoulders while he wandered barefoot into the bedroom. Y/N was curled comfortably against the headboard, a book she’d picked up earlier that afternoon resting in her lap as she glanced up. “Feeling better?”

“Hm.” Yunho stopped as a muffled thump echoed from somewhere farther down the hallway. Then another thump. Then what sounded suspiciously like someone moaning before being hastily shushed. He slowly closed his eyes. “I should just let God kill them.” Y/N looked up from her book. “What?” Another muffled moan drifted through the villa and her eyebrows lifted. “Oh.” Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose. “I gave them one guest room. I specifically gave them the guest room on the opposite side of the villa.” Another unmistakable moan louder this time. “And somehow,” he muttered, “they’re still the loudest people on the island.” Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, trying very hard not to laugh. “They’re really…”

“Unfortunately.”

She pulled the blanket a little higher as amusement spread across her face. “I forgot…” Yunho looked over with one brow raised. “Isn’t he like your…” She gestured vaguely. “grandfather or something?” He furrowed his brows. “Who?”

“God.”

Yunho shrugged as though she had asked whether he’d ever tried olives. “Technically.”

“Technically?”

“I’ve never met him. My dad hates him. He hates my dad. Hates me. And everyone hates him.” That answer caught her off guard. “Really?” Yunho shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Just because humans worship him…. doesn’t make him good.” Y/N was quiet for a while. The only sounds in the room were the waves beyond the balcony and the occasional muffled noise from somewhere down the hallway that Yunho was making a very deliberate effort to ignore. She closed her book and rested it on the nightstand. “Yeah.” Yunho looked over. “They usually are.” His brow furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?” She drew one knee toward her chest, absentmindedly tracing the edge of the blanket with her fingertips. “My ex…” The words came slowly. “I…” She let out a small breath. “I broke up with him about a year before my grandma passed. He was…” She gave a humorless little laugh. “Perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“To everyone else.” She looked toward the moonlit balcony. “He volunteered. He remembered birthdays. He brought flowers to my grandma every Sunday.” She smiled sadly. “People loved him.” Yunho watched her expression change. It wasn’t anger. It was disappointment. Like she still mourned the version of him she’d thought existed. And he didn’t like it. Knew he wouldn’t like what she was about to say. “Then…” she said quietly. “he wasn’t.” Silence settled over the room and Yunho’s gaze never left her but his jaw clenched, his claws elongating without thinking. “What happened?” She swallowed. “He got comfortable.” The words barely rose above a whisper. “It started with little things.” She shrugged faintly. “Telling me what I should wear. What friends I shouldn’t spend time with. Criticizing everything I did.” She looked down at her hands. “And every time I’d say something…” Her smile disappeared. “he’d apologize. And then he’d do it again.” Yunho’s eyes went black as she continued. “I kept telling myself he’d go back to being the person I met. But he didn’t.”

Yunho had to control himself. Choose his words wisely. Because if she said what he thought she was going to…. if this story went where he knew it was going…. “Did he hurt you?” The question was so quiet it almost disappeared into the breeze. Y/N looked at him and for a long moment she didn’t answer. “It’s why I left him.” Something shifted in Yunho. His entire posture changed. The softness he’d been carrying all evening was completely gone now beneath something much colder. His eyes remained on hers, but there was now a dangerous stillness behind the black depths. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm. Almost too calm. “Do you want me to kill him?”

“What?”

“If that’s what you want…” He didn’t look like he was joking. “I can.” She stared at him. “Yunho…”

“He’ll never touch you again.”

“He hasn’t.”

“He never will.” His expression never changed. “I’ll make certain of it.” She reached over and gently took his hand. “No. I already got away.” His jaw remained set as she shook her head. “I don’t need revenge.”

“He hurt you.”

“He did.”

“And he gets to keep living like nothing happened.”

Y/N gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She forgot momentarily that this was the son of Satan she was talking to. “Maybe.” She offered him a small, tired smile. But if I asked you to kill every person who ever hurt me…” Her thumb brushed across his knuckles. “I’d lose the man I’m falling in love with.” That finally made him look at her. Really look at her. “And I don’t want that.” His shoulders loosened if only slightly as he turned his hand over and intertwined their fingers. “I still don’t like him.” She laughed softly. “I don’t either. And hey, if I ever see him again….” She leaned over, kissing him, lips lingering against his own. “you can kick his ass.” A soft laugh escaped Yunho as he leaned in again, kissing her once more. It was slower this time, unhurried, the kind of kiss that didn’t need to prove anything. His hand came up to cradle the side of her face, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek as though reassuring himself she was really there. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together as the moonlight spilled across the room, painting silver across the blankets while the sea whispered beyond the balcony. Yunho looked into her eyes for a long moment. “I would never do that.” Y/N searched his face, not sure what he meant. “What?”

“Hurt you. Like that.” His voice was barely above a whisper as she watched him carefully. “But I will never become that.” His hand slipped into hers again. “I know…” He gave a small, almost self conscious smile. “I know that’s not something I can just promise and expect you to believe.” He looked down at their intertwined fingers. “Anyone can make promises.” His thumb brushed slowly across the back of her hand. “But…” When he looked back up, there wasn’t a trace of uncertainty left in his eyes that had slowly turned back to their normal brown along with his claws retreating. “I have eternity to prove it to you.” The words settled over the room like the gentle sound of the waves outside. “I’ll spend every day showing you.” Y/N felt her throat tighten. “You don’t have to convince me.”

“I want to. I need to.” For himself and for her. She reached up, brushing a damp strand of silver hair away from his forehead. “I already believe you.” The corner of Yunho’s mouth lifted into a small smile. “I still intend to prove you right.” She smiled back before leaning forward to kiss him again. “You really are impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Y/N reached for him without hesitation, fingers curling into the damp fabric of his towel as she tugged him forward and Yunho came willingly, lowering himself until their mouths met again in a slow, deeper kiss that tasted like midnight and salt air. His lips trailed lower, brushing the column of her throat, then dragging his tongue deliberately across the faint mark he’d left there back at Keres’ villa. The wet heat of it making her shiver and in a voice she had never heard from him before, low, cracked open, almost fragile, he whispered against her skin, “Let me make love to you.”

She watched him, breath caught, as he sat back just enough to peel the oversized henley up and over her head. The shirt landed somewhere on the floor and Yunho’s gaze dropped to her breasts and leaned in again, pressing open mouthed kisses across the swell of one, then the other, tongue circling a nipple slowly before he sucked it between his lips, drawing a soft sound from her throat. The towel around his waist had already begun to tent, the thick outline of his dick pressed visibly against the cotton as he took his time, alternating between gentle sucks and the flat drag of his tongue. He kissed lower, down the center of her stomach, the muscles there twitching under his mouth as his horns unglamored as he moved, dark and ridged, curving back from his temples. The sight of them made something tighten low in Y/N belly as Yunho settled between her spread thighs, pressing kisses to the soft skin there before hooking his fingers into her panties and sliding them down.

He kissed her pussy first, then lower, lips parting to drag his tongue through her folds in one long, unhurried stroke making Y/N gasp, hips twitching as Yunho’s hands slid under her thighs, holding her open as he licked again, slower this time, savoring. He sealed his mouth over her clit and sucked, tongue flicking in tight circles until her back arched and her hands found his horns without thinking, fingers wrapping around them. The moment she gripped them, Yunho moaned into her pussy, the vibration traveling straight through her as he doubled down, sucking harder, tongue working relentlessly while she held onto his horns like handles. He kept her pinned with one broad forearm across her lower belly, refusing to let her squirm away as he focused on her clit. The pressure building fast and sharp until Y/N’s thighs trembled around his head. “Yunho… baby…” she sobbed, voice breaking as her orgasm hit hard. Her whole body seizing, thighs clamping around his head as she came against his mouth. But Yunho didn’t pull back, he licked her through every pulse, tongue broad and gentle now, cleaning every drop until she was shaking and oversensitive. Only then did he kiss his way back up her body, lips shiny as sat back on his knees between her legs, the towel finally discarded as he yanked it off. His dick stood heavy and flushed, the tip glistening as he wrapped one hand around the base and dragged the length slowly through her slick folds, rubbing the underside against her swollen clit without pushing inside.

Y/N watched as he kept a steady rhythm until the teasing became too much and she reached down, fingers circling his wrist. “Please… I need you inside me.” Yunho’s eyes flicked up to hers, dark and soft at the same time, she didn’t have to beg again, he’d give her whatever she wanted. He tapped his his dick against her clit once more before lining himself up and sinking in slowly, inch by inch, watching her face the entire time. Once he was fully buried inside her, he lifted one of her legs, hooking it over his shoulder so he could hold it there while her other leg wrapped around his waist and he stayed upright on his knees, rolling his hips in long, measured strokes that let her feel every inch. His gaze stayed fixed on where they joined. Her arousal coated him, creamy and glistening each time he withdrew and the sight made his jaw tighten.

He leaned his forehead against the leg he held, breathing through his nose as he watched his dick disappear inside her again and again. After several minutes of that slow pace he lowered her leg, wrapping both of hers around his waist, leaning over her as his thrusts deepened, still controlled but gaining speed. Y/N’s arms came up around his shoulders, hands finding his horns once more and the moment she gripped them he groaned, hips stuttering. “Fuck, just like that,” he breathed against her ear. “Hold onto me. You feel so good…. so tight and wet and perfect. Taking me so well. Mine…” She moaned, clenching around him. “Yunho… you’re so deep. Don’t stop.” She pulled herself up a little by the grip she had on his horns, forehead against his own. “Please….. I need it…..” He kissed her, swallowing the words, then buried his face in her neck again as his pace quickened. The wet sound of skin meeting skin filled the room as her thighs started to shake again. “I’m….. fuck, I’m coming,” she gasped, voice high and broken as the first gush of her release hit him and he moaned loudly into her throat, hips never faltering. She squirted around him, soaking the sheets beneath them while she sobbed his name over and over.

Yunho kept thrusting through it, drawing every last tremor from her until she was limp and whimpering and only then did his own control slip. His thrusts grew erratic, desperate as he moved to press his forehead back against hers, eyes squeezed shut. “Gonna fill you up,” he panted. “Again….. and again….” His dick twitched inside her. “And again……. fuck…. love you…..” it slipped out as he came with a broken whimper, dick pulsing deep inside her. His hips jerked with each spurt until he had nothing left, body trembling above her. And he stayed buried to the hilt, breathing hard, pressing soft kisses to her jaw and temple while they both came down. And for a long moment neither of them moved. Yunho’s body stay joined with hers until eventually he eased out carefully, watching the mix of their releases slip from her and then kissed her again, slower this time, almost reverent. “Stay right there,” he murmured. “I’ll get something to clean you up… then we can do that all over again if you want.”

Y/N smiled, dazed and sated, fingers still loosely curled around one of his horns. “I want.” Yunho’s answering grin was soft and wicked all at once as he leaned down to kiss her once more before slipping off the bed, already planning how he would take his time with her again. That little “love you” slip up lingering around them, Yunho realizing he didn’t even notice he’d said it until it was already out in the open, but there was no fighting it. No denying it. Because he did. He does. And damn anyone who tried taking her from him.

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Having your friends over was always fun, except when it wasn’t. San was throwing up in your kitchen sink again, because that man lives in denial. He knows he can’t handle liquor, and yet he pushes his limits every single time.

“You better clean that up or I’m killing you tonight.” You patted his back while he whimpered in misery. “You know where the cleaning stuff is. Thanks.”

You headed back to the living room, only to find Seonghwa and Hongjoong in the middle of some ridiculous pillow fight, yelling at each other about some stupid game.

Both of them were your best friends, but… somehow, they were very different. And they acted very differently with you as well. You’d met San and Yunho in college, but Hwa and Joongie? They’d been around since you were the kid who ate dirt at recess. So you knew a lot about each other, and intimacy on that level sucks, sometimes.

“Hey! Would you stop? My pillows are new. If you mess them up, you’re buying me new ones!” You headed to the kitchen to grab more soju, and they immediately froze at your yelling when you came back. “Good. San’s already sick. Hwa, you’re taking care of him, right?” 

“Again? Shit.” Hongjoong snatched the bottle from your hands and poured three shots without asking. “Bro just can’t drink. We’re getting him grape juice next time.”

“Yeah, I’ll take him home in the morning,” Seonghwa said. “No way we’re driving tonight, and taxis this late are ridiculous, so… mind if we crash here?” 

“You know you’re always welcome to stay.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “But I want everything spotless in the morning. And you better bring me breakfast. Good breakfast.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He downed the whole shot like it was water, barely flinching. “I’m taking the couch. Hongjoong can stay there with you, like always.”

“I think he just loves my floor,” you teased, plopping down between the two of them. “Right, Joongie?”

“Not that bad when I’m wasted,” he mumbled, resting his arm behind you on the couch. Casual, but not really. You didn’t have time to overthink about the touch. “Where’s Woo again?”

“Date night with his new girl, remember?”

You poured more soju, eyeing the five empty bottles scattered across your coffee table.

“Woo and Jongho always have plans. We’re the losers who keep ending up at my place, or yours, or Hwa’s.”

“Yeah, true.” Seonghwa raised his glass again. “I think I should get a date for next week, what do you think?” He downed his drink effortlessly. The bastard was just too gorgeous for his own good. “I’ll download Tinder or something.” 

“Ew. I’d rather die than use Tinder. And we know you don’t need that.”

You crossed your legs, suddenly aware of how warm you were getting from the alcohol, from the way they were both way too close to you on that couch.

“I think I’m just gonna say yes to that guy from work. He is nice.”

“That loser? Seriously?” Hongjoong scoffed instantly, rolling his eyes. He always had something to say about the guys you mentioned, so you barely reacted. “Maybe you should just go celibate or something.”

“She’s almost there, isn’t she? When was the last time you had sex, anyway?” Seonghwa was way too drunk, even if he still looked all peaceful and put-together.

“Uh… I don’t know. Two months ago, I think. I don’t really date, ‘cause men are disgusting.”

“Damn. Two months?” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Was it that loser who didn’t know how to go down on you?”

You groaned, hiding your face with one hand. He always knew how to embarrass you. And yes, you always told them about your sex life. Your guy friends gave way better advice anyway. Your female friends kept landing in toxic relationships and telling you to do the same, and sometimes it was really annoying. At least with the boys, there was no sugar-coating.

“Yeah, that one,” you muttered, raising your freshly filled shot glass. “Like I said, I don’t date much. It’s always disappointing. I’d rather just use my vibrator.”

“Yeah, but it could be way more fun if someone used it on you,” Hongjoong muttered, and yes, he was definitely drunk too. “I remember this girl I was with once… she even squirted because of that thing. You ever squirted?”

You gave him a look, but before you could answer, Seonghwa chimed in, half-asleep on the couch but still somehow following the conversation.

“It’s not that easy to make a girl squirt… My ex tried to teach me, but it only worked a few times…”

“Yeah, it’s not that easy. I’ve done it, but… not with anyone. Just by myself.”

“What a waste, huh?” You felt Hongjoong a little closer, his voice slower, lower, like there was some weight behind every word. What did he mean? And the way he said it… It sounded like something else entirely. “At least you can do it,” he added, eyes locked on yours, and you had to look away from him.

Hwa finally passed out against your shoulder, but you barely noticed. Your cheeks were burning, and not from the soju.

“I think we should go to sleep,” you said, clearing your throat. “Hwa’s already out…”

“Yeah,” he replied, but he didn’t move right away. He bit his lower lip, staring at you for a beat too long before getting up. “You go first. I’ll deal with him… make sure he doesn’t die in his sleep or something.”

“Okay. I’ll get everything set up for you, too. Thanks.”

You headed to your room a little too fast, and maybe it was just the alcohol, but you were pretty sure he noticed how nervous you were.

You laid out the usual stuff for him to crash on the floor, then went straight to the bathroom to change into your pajamas. Safe zone, because he’d already caught you shirtless once, and that was traumatic enough to last a lifetime, so now you were really careful with that. 

You washed your face, avoiding your reflection at first, but when you finally looked up, you saw how flushed your cheeks were. Damn. What the hell was happening to you?

Maybe it was just the soju.

Yeah. Probably that. You hoped it was, at least.

But thinking too much while drinking never led to anything good, anyway.

You could hear Hongjoong talking to San in the living room, probably helping him get settled on the floor. Good. That meant you could finally lie down and wait for tomorrow’s hangover to hit. 

You climbed into bed and got comfortable, already tucked under the sheets as you waited for Hongjoong to come in so you could turn off the lights.

Your body still felt warm. Too warm, enough to bother you. But you pulled the blanket up anyway. Maybe you should consider that guy from work. You were probably just feeling lonely. And horny. It happened sometimes, especially after going too long without dating anyone.

“Hey, the drunks are safely passed out. You awake?”

You were facing the other side of the room, so you turned over to look at him.

“Yeah. Good. I just hope they don’t throw up in there.”

“Hwa definitely won’t. San... well. We’ll find out in the morning.”

He started taking off his shirt. Totally normal, he always slept shirtless. But why the hell were you staring so much? Why did his chest suddenly look... broader? Or was that just your imagination?

“Are you insane?” he asked, catching you off guard. “It’s hot in here. Why are you under a blanket?”

“I don’t know, I just get cold sometimes at night,” you lied. Of course, he noticed, because it was him. He always noticed.

“Sure,” he said, with that amused little smirk in his voice. “I hope it’s not because of those ridiculous pajamas. You know I don’t mind, right? I was just kidding. They’re not that ugly.”

“Shut up and go to sleep. We’re too drunk to talk.” You pulled the blanket over your face, mostly to stop staring at his chest like a creep. Then you heard him lie down on the floor with a quiet thump. “Good night, Joongie.”

“Night, bossy girl.”

••• x •••

You expected to wake up feeling nauseous, sick, and with a splitting headache.

What you didn’t expect was waking up this wet. Your panties were clinging to your pussy like a second skin.

Damn. Had you been dreaming about something? Or… someone? 

You checked your phone, and it was barely eight in the morning, too early for anyone else to be up. But you needed to pee. Desperately.

You sat up carefully, rubbing your eyes before glancing down. There he was. Hongjoong, fast asleep on his back, shirtless and stretched out on the floor, not even using the sheets you gave him. Just his sleep shorts… and one hell of a morning wood pressing against the fabric was right there on display for you. Your eyes lingered a little longer than they should’ve. Not that it was a surprise, exactly—it was morning, after all—but still… Damn. 

Sure, you’d seen him almost naked a few times. Sleepovers, random changing moments, but you’d never actually seen his dick. And you hadn’t tried to.

But now it was right there in front of you. All those nights, all those hangouts, and that had never happened before. Or maybe it had, and you just never looked. Or noticed.

Fuck.

He was… definitely bigger than you expected. Not that you had expected anything. It’s not like you ever really thought about his dick before.

(Maybe you did. Once. Or twice. Because of his height. Or the way he sat sometimes. Or… whatever.)

Still, the size didn’t exactly match his frame, like. It was… kind of unfair, honestly. And it looked so… what? 

What the fuck are you even thinking right now?

You tiptoed past him and went straight to the bathroom, doing your best not to make a sound.

You had to toss your soaked panties into the dirty laundry, they were ruined. You weren’t even sure what exactly got you that wet. Maybe the dream you couldn’t remember? Maybe the visual of your best friend’s dick barely covered by a thin pair of shorts? God. You shouldn’t think about that.

So you just started an inner debate about crawling back into bed or just starting the day with no sleep. The bed won.

After washing your hands, you stepped back into your room, and to your relief, Hongjoong had covered himself up with the sheets. You’d been fully prepared not to look, which was weird because it was like you wanted to see it again.

“You’re up early.”

Shit.

His voice startled you mid-step, and you nearly tripped over your own feet.

“Yeah. Just had to pee…”

The morning light was pouring in through your curtains, making your already flushed skin feel even hotter. You weren’t wearing panties, and that was maybe a very dumb decision. The moment you sat on your bed, you could feel it… the warmth spreading, your arousal coming back like your body had a mind of its own.

You just hoped to god he wouldn't notice the wet spot threatening to show through your shorts.

“Did you check on them? Are they still breathing?”

“Nope. But I know they’ll live.”

“Mingi’s probably picking them up soon. He got back from that trip, right? Might come over to see you.”

Oh.

That Mingi.

Your little almost-something Mingi. The one who ghosted after making out with you like he was gonna fuck you right there on the couch.

“Ah… okay.”

“Still got a crush on him or whatever?”

“You know we made out, right? We just didn’t… do it.”

“I know. He ran away and ghosted you.”

“He had something to take care of.”

“Sure. But he could’ve come back, don’t you think?”

You turned to glare at him, and there it was again, that look in his eyes. Too casual to be just casual.

“I mean,” he added quickly, “if I were about to sleep with someone and had to leave for some reason... I’d come back. Unless I didn’t really want to fuck.”

You stared at him, a little too long. His eyes were still on you, lazy and amused, but something else burned behind them.

“Okay, can we not talk about Mingi? I don’t care if he shows up. Whatever.”

“Right. You totally don’t care,” he muttered, smirking. Bastard.

“Ugh. You’re such an ass.”

“And you like dating losers.”

“I don’t!—”

You paused.

…Okay, maybe you did.

“Okay… maybe I do. But not on purpose.”

“Sure. Should we get up…? I don’t think you’re getting that nice breakfast from Hwa.”

“I could wake him up and make him buy it…” You stretched lazily under the covers, still curled up in bed. “Or we could just sleep a bit more… you know, hangover and all.”

“I feel fine. No hangover.” He yawned, running a hand through his messy hair, which was already longer than usual. “Well, I’m hitting the bathroom first, then we decide.”

You watched as he got up, still shirtless, still wearing those ridiculously short shorts that left way too much thigh exposed. You’d never paid much attention to his legs before, but damn… You always had a thing for thighs. That was one of the things that got you so into Mingi in the first place.

But why the hell were you staring at Hongjoong’s thighs now?

Nope. You seriously needed to get laid.

With a groan, you grabbed your phone and flopped back onto the bed. It was Saturday. You had no plans. Nothing urgent to do. Maybe it was time to drag your friends out to some bar, find someone decent-looking, make out a little… maybe even score a second date just to fuck the stress out of your system. And the loneliness. And the inappropriate, uninvited thoughts you kept having about your best friend. Yeah, it was a good idea.

Hongjoong came back and sat on the floor, folding the sheets like he’d officially given up on sleep.

“Not sleeping anymore, then?”

“Well, you can sleep if you want.” He stood, placing the folded bedding on your bed before grabbing the clothes he’d left on your chair. “I’m good.”

Then, just like that, he slipped his shirt back on and casually dropped his shorts right there in front of you, leaving only a pair of tight black boxers on before pulling up his jeans. Well… that was new.

“Did you just undress in front of me…?”

“Yeah, but I’m still wearing boxers. Same thing as swimwear,” he said with a shrug, fastening his belt. Then he looked at you with that smirk. That cocky idiot. “Didn’t think you’d mind. If you do, sorry.”

“I don’t… It’s just… You never did that before. Whatever. I’m taking a shower. Go wake those drunks up and make them buy me breakfast, I’m starving.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You waited for him to leave your room before finally throwing the blanket off and climbing out of bed. Your light green shorts weren’t doing you any favors, the wet patch between your legs was very visible now. Shit.

You rushed to the bathroom and stripped quickly, letting the hot water relax your aching body. But no amount of steam could wash away the tension coiled low in your belly.

You slid your fingers between your thighs, and it was ridiculous, you were soaked. You tried to just clean yourself, but your body had other plans. Your breath hitched as one finger slipped inside, and your walls clenched around it so greedily that it made your knees weak.

“Fuck…” you whispered to yourself, biting your lip. You needed them all gone—and fast—so you could crawl back into bed and finally deal with this mess using your vibrator.

“Hey! I gotta use the bathroom!” 

You flinched like you’d just been caught doing something dirty when you heard San's voice as he knocked on the door.  

“Coming out in a minute!” 

You finished your shower and headed back to your room, throwing on whatever you could find since you weren’t planning on leaving the house. It was already hot, even that early in the day, so you settled for a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

When you got to the kitchen, you were met with the heavenly smell of fresh bread, and way too much of it. Seonghwa had bought breakfast like he was feeding a small army.

“Damn, did you buy the whole bakery?”

“I didn’t know what you wanted, and Hongjoong made me rush, so…” he shrugged, as if the spread of pastries, sandwiches, and juices was completely reasonable.

“Well, thank you for this. I was starving. Are you guys doing anything tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a date.” San, who somehow looked fresh and glowing despite throwing up his soul the night before, was the first to answer. “That hot girl who just moved in next to my apartment, remember?”

You raised an eyebrow. You had no idea who he was talking about. There was always a “hot girl,” and it was never the same one.

“Hwa and I are looking for a place to grab some drinks tonight. Any suggestions?”

“Yeah, look! I checked the group chat earlier and they invited me to this bar that just opened… here.” You handed them your phone, and the Instagram page of the place was already open.

“Hm, looks good. Wanna check this place out tonight?”

“Yeah, my friends are going too. You can bother them for a change instead of just annoying me.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, and Seonghwa let out a low chuckle—because, well, everyone in your circle kind of hated Hongjoong. Not that they really hated him… he just had this terrible habit of being brutally honest all the time, and most of your friends couldn’t handle it.

They did like Seonghwa, though. Actually, a little too much. He’d pretty much dated every single one of them at some point. At least they knew that Hwa was kinda… not boyfriend material. He always tells them that. 

Well, your closest friends were all fuckboys, except for Hongjoong. He didn’t date much, and when he did, it was always casual. He never introduced any girl to you or the rest of the group. And he definitely didn’t mess around with any of your girlfriends either. He behaved.

But whenever the conversation shifted to sex, he always had something really dirty to say. So at some point, you started wondering if he did have a girlfriend and was just keeping it a secret from you. You’d never thought about that before… which suddenly felt kind of weird. Like many other things in the last 24 hours.

“So, Hwa and Joongie are coming with me…” You were typing that to tell your friends you were meeting them at the bar. “Can you guys pick me up?”

“Sure, princess. We’re calling a cab around eight.”

“Okay. And Hwa, thanks again for breakfast.”

He raised his empty mug in a lazy toast, and after stuffing yourself with way too much food, you finally stood up. You needed them out of your house so you could take care of yourself. You just couldn’t take it anymore. Your panties were soaked again.

“You’re flushed… are you okay?” Hongjoong leaned in a little too close, scanning your face like he was actually worried. “Getting sick or something?”

“No, I just wanna know when you guys are leaving so I can take a very long nap.”

“Nap? Right…” Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at you. “You could be napping right now if that were really the case.”

“I think she just wants to masturbate,” Seonghwa said casually, sipping his coffee. “Mingi’s coming to pick us up, so we’re leaving soon, princess.”

You choked on your saliva while Hongjoong gasped into his mug and then burst out laughing. Loud. And Hwa joined in, unfazed.

“Hwa! It’s not that…” Of course it was, and the worst part was that you had no idea how he could tell. “I’m just… tired. And still hungover, okay?”

“Sure…” Hwa winked at you over his cup. “He’s here. You gonna say hi to your little crush?”

“Stop it. He’s not my crush anymore. And no, I’m not going outside.”

“What should we tell him if he asks about you, then?” Of course, Hongjoong had to chime in, teasing you like always.

“Tell him I’m asleep. Because that’s exactly what I’ll be doing as soon as you three get out of my house.”

“Where’s San? Still in the bathroom? Again?” Seonghwa stood up and started looking for him. “Did he fall asleep in there? Again?”

And just like that, you were left alone with Hongjoong and, of course, your brain betrayed you immediately with the memory of this morning. Him, laid out on your floor. His hardness and those shorts doing absolutely nothing to hide it. Fuck.

“You’re acting kinda weird today,” Hongjoong said, voice lower now, a little too close. “Is it because you saw some morning wood?”

You blinked, frozen. What?

“What?!”

He smirked like he caught you red-handed. Sometimes you just really, really hated him.

“Yeah, I know you saw it. So… is that why you’re all flustered?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, it’s not a big deal. Relax.” That damn smirk was back—the one that told you he knew exactly how deep he was in your head. “We’re even now anyway. I saw your tits once, remember?”

“Oh my god… just shut up. This is not… I mean… what?!” Your brain was short-circuiting, and your mouth wasn’t helping, so all you could do was stare at him like he’d grown a second head. “Shut up. And leave.”

“You really need to masturbate, huh? You’re way too annoyed for so little. Well, we’re leaving.” He whispered the first part so only you could hear, because San and Seonghwa were coming right behind you. “See you tonight.”

“Bye, guys.”

You closed the door behind them and just stood there, blinking at the wood like it had answers. How the hell were you so easy to read? First, Seonghwa basically guessed what you were about to do the second they left, and now Hongjoong straight-up told you he knew you saw his hard dick, and he didn’t even care? He whispered it to you like it was some dirty secret you two shared. What the actual fuck was happening? 

At least you were finally alone. No distractions, no teasing, no smug best friends pushing your buttons. Just you and your favorite toy.

You didn’t even want to think about why you were so turned on, you’d save that breakdown for another day. Right now, it was just you and the vibrator that never disappointed.

This one was your favorite for a reason. Curved just right to press into your g-spot, while the soft tip buzzed against your clit at the perfect angle. Anytime you used it, you could cum in seconds. And now, being this horny? You might break your own record.

You pulled your shorts and underwear down in one go, flopping back onto the bed and spreading your legs. No warm-up needed, you were soaking, it was almost embarrassing. Wet like a damn virgin, needy and pulsing. 

You pressed the button and let it buzz to life before sliding it deep inside your dripping pussy. Your legs tensed immediately, fuck. The pressure on your g-spot made your stomach flutter, and the smaller part vibrating on your clit only made your mind go blank.

You pushed it all the way in, feeling every inch stretching you out just right, hitting that spot that made your thighs clench around nothing. The vibrations against your clit were almost too much, and also everything you needed. You couldn’t stop moaning, couldn’t even think. 

Your hips rolled instinctively, chasing the pressure, needing more. The wet sounds coming from between your legs were obscene, but they just pushed you closer. You were already so close, so tight around the toy, panting, trembling… You were so close you could taste it.

Your back arched off the bed as the toy kept doing exactly what it was made for—driving you absolutely insane. Your moans turned breathy, desperate, your free hand gripping the sheets while your other hand held the vibrator in place, pressing it harder against your clit.

“F-fuck…” you whispered, eyes squeezed shut, thighs shaking on either side. It was right there, that rush, that build-up, that tight heat coiling deep in your belly, ready to snap.

And then, right at that moment, it hit you. That image.

Hongjoong, half-asleep on your floor, his shorts tented with that thick, heavy cock you shouldn’t have stared at. But you did, and now it was all you could see. The way it stretched the fabric, the way your mouth watered just thinking about what he must look like, hard and naked, right in front of you.

Your pussy clenched so hard it made you cry out.

“Oh my god…”

Your hips jerked up against the toy. You were fucking yourself to the thought of your best friend’s dick. Not your vibrator. Not some guy from work. Him… Hongjoong.

You didn’t stand a chance, you didn’t have time to stop your thoughts, and you didn’t even want to. Not when your orgasm slammed into you so hard it knocked the breath from your lungs. Your body shook with it, toes curling, walls pulsing around the toy as your climax spilled out of you in wet, messy waves. You could barely keep your eyes open. All you could feel was the pleasure crashing through you, and that fucking image of Hongjoong burned behind your eyelids.

You kept whimpering through it, even after your hand went limp and the vibrator slipped out of you, soaked and buzzing softly against the sheets. Your body was a trembling mess.

You were feeling relieved and tired… but also guilty. What the fuck was happening to you?

Was it just the lack of sex? The alcohol still lingering in your bloodstream? Or were you seriously starting to…? Nope. You couldn’t even say that. Not even to yourself.

You sighed, covering your face with both hands.

No, it was fine. You just needed to get laid. That’s all.

Tonight, you were going to look hot, drink a little less, flirt a little more and kiss someone. Maybe some hot stranger, that would do. Because anything else would be madness. Right?

Right.

You weren’t losing your mind. You were just… really horny. 

And maybe a little fucked.