head in the clouds

[simping4fictional]

Beneath Rebel Skies - Chapter 1

Characters: Cassian x Reader Summary: You and Cassian Andor were childhood friends on Ferrix—until your parents suddenly tore you away without warning. Years later, you reunite during a mission for the Rebellion. Old memories clash with new tension as you’re forced to work together, navigating the lines between friendship, loyalty, and something more. Word Count: 2,165 words Warnings: Violence, Loss, Mild Language, mentions of sex Masterlist

You never liked Cassian.

At least, that’s what you always told yourself.

Bix had introduced you to him when you were seven, your tiny hand looped in hers as she dragged you across the scrapyard. You still remember the exact moment—dust in the air, the clang of metal nearby, and then him. Wild-eyed, loud-mouthed, already covered in scrapes and dirt like he belonged to the streets of Ferrix more than anyone else.

He intimidated you right away.

He was reckless. Loud. Rude.

From the moment he met you, it felt like he had made it his personal mission to pick you apart.

“Your hair is so short.”

“You run so slow.”

“Why do you carry that stupid doll around all the time?”

It didn’t matter what you were doing—Cassian always had something to say. Something to tease. Something to question. You used to think he was trying to get rid of you.

But despite the constant torment, the sarcastic smirks, and the eye rolls, you kept hanging around...mostly because of Bix.

She was your best friend, and Cassian was hers. The three of you were a package deal, always together. Like three peas in a pod.

As the years went by, Cassian’s teasing dulled into something more playful. He’d still throw in a jab here and there, but it was far less cruel. Somewhere along the line, without really realizing it, the two of you had grown close.

But the teasing still came with his signature grin.

“Why do you always bite your lip when you’re nervous?” he asked one day, leaning against a crate, arms crossed and grinning like he already knew the answer.

“I don’t,” you said, a little too quickly.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “You literally just did it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You make stuff up just to mess with me.”

He was insufferable. And somehow, you started to like it. And maybe, just maybe you were starting to like… him.

Then came your 15th birthday "party".

Bix helped plan it, of course. It was nothing extravagant—just a fire, music, some sweetbread stolen from the back of the market. You wore a dress that didn’t quite fit anymore and pretended not to notice Cassian looking at you for a beat too long.

“Happy birthday,” he’d said, holding out a little piece of scrap metal tied to a leather string. A makeshift necklace, clumsy and clearly handmade.

But you had smiled like it was gold, “thanks”

That night, after Bix had gone home and only the embers glowed around you two, you asked him a question.

“So… have you asked her out yet?”

“Who?”

“Bix, of course, who else?”

Cassian glanced up from where he was flicking pebbles at the fire. “Why would I ask her out?”

You shrugged, your voice smaller than you meant it to be. “Well, aren’t you two—” you hesitated, cheeks burning, “you know… doing it?”

He looked at you, surprised, before letting out a low chuckle. “You mean having sex?” he asked, smirking.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t say it like that.”

“What? That’s what it is.” He leaned back, arms folded, smug and infuriating as always. “Just because we’re hooking up doesn’t mean it’s all… feelings and stuff, you know?”

You nodded like you understood. Like you didn’t care.

But something shifted in your chest that night. You couldn’t name it, but it stayed with you.

And then, not even two weeks later, everything changed.

You woke to shouting. Urgency. The sound of bags being thrown open, of drawers yanked out and scattered clothes hitting the floor.

“Get your things—now!” your father shouted, dragging you from your bed.

“What? What’s going on?”

“No time. Just pack what you need. The ship’s leaving in an hour.”

Your mother’s hands trembled as she tossed everything into a case—clothes, rations, old photos. You kept asking where, why, how long, but no one gave you an answer.. just panic.

andsuddenly, you were being dragged out the door.

You didn’t even have time to fully process anything... the only thing you knew is that you had to see them. You had to say goodbye.

You broke free of your mother’s grasp and ran, feet slapping against the gravel streets, ignoring her calls behind you.

“Bix!” you yelled, pounding at her door.

It opened almost instantly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, panicked at the sight of you.

“I-I don’t know,” you stammered, tears falling now. “We’re leaving. I’m leaving.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, what? Where? When?”

“I don’t know!” you cried. “My parents just told me. We’re about to go, like, now.”

“Shit.” Bix yanked you into a hug, holding on tight like she could keep you from slipping away. “Did you tell Cass?”

“No,” you shook your head, pulling back. “I told my parents I’d be a minute. I don’t have long”

“Stall for as long as you can,” she said, already turning. “I’ll go get Cassian!”

You wanted to run after her. But there was no time.

The port was a blur. Lights, people, shouting. Your parents were ahead of you, ushering you through the crowd. You looked over your shoulder every second you could, searching for your two friends.

Your chest felt tight, like your ribs couldn’t contain your heart anymore.

You climbed the ramp slowly, turning one last time to look out over Ferrix—the only home you’d ever known. You stood near the window, barely blinking, afraid to miss them.

And then you saw him.

Cassian.

Shoving through the crowd, calling your name.

His face wild with panic, eyes darting, searching for you. But it was too late.

The ship lifted.

And just like that, you were gone.

Years had passed since you left Ferrix.

You never quite knew why your parents left that day. Every time you asked, they avoided the question. Instead, they dragged you from planet to planet like they were searching for something… or someone.

They trained you young. Handed you a blaster before you even knew how to aim. Taught you how to hide, how to fight, how to disappear. You didn’t ask questions. You just listened.

When you turned twenty, they were gone. Shot in the middle of the street by stormtroopers during a peaceful protest. You remembered the moment too clearly—the smell of smoke, the crowd screaming, the way your mother fell first. Your father followed seconds later.

You never got to say goodbye. One minute they were there. The next, you were alone... not only that, but the whole incident was covered, never broadcasted for public knowledge.

Not long after that, you met Luthen.

And that’s how you ended up here.

Draped in silk, perched on a barstool with your arm lazily slung around a rich, slurring Imperial aristocrat. Your dress clung to your figure in all the ways it was meant to. The fabric was smooth, black, cut low enough to distract him every time he tried to meet your eyes. You laughed at his jokes, batted your lashes, leaned in close enough to feed him another drink and steal another piece of information.

He didn’t know a thing. Not who you were, not what you were doing.

It was going perfectly. Smooth. Clean. You already had what you needed, and your ride off-planet was on its way. Luthen said some new recruit would pose as your driver, pick you up, and get you back to Yavin without incident.

You glanced toward the large, gilded clock over the bar.

Any second now.

So when you felt the tap on your shoulder, you didn’t flinch. You just turned, ready to play your part.

“Miss, it’s getting late. Would you like me to drive you home?” a voice with a thick accent spoke.

The voice stopped you cold.

Your heart climbed into your throat as you slowly let go of the drunk beside you. He grumbled something in protest, but his words faded into static as you turned around—and locked eyes with someone you hadn’t seen in years.

Cassian.

Time stood still. He looked older. Broader in the shoulders, jaw sharper, hair a little longer. But his eyes—his eyes were exactly the same. Wide and full of things he wasn’t saying.

For a second you thought he was going to say your name. Say something that would ruin the entire mission.

But instead, he cleared his throat and held out his arm, playing the part like a professional.

You slid your hand into the crook of his elbow, and he guided you out of the bar.

The walk to the ship was silent. Tense. His grip was firm but careful, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hold you closer or let go entirely. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t speak. The weight of old memories came crushing down.

The ship doors sealed behind you with a hiss.

You turned, expecting… something. A quiet “hey.” Maybe even a hug. or a breathless “You’re alive.”

Instead, his jaw clenched, and he glared at you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

His voice was low but sharp. Like he’d been holding that sentence back the whole walk to the ship.

You blinked, startled by the tone of his tone. “Nice to see you too.”

Cassian’s expression didn’t budge. His eyes scanned you top to bottom.. as if trying to figure out if you were real or some kind of trick.

“What are you doing here?” he repeated, slower this time. “You were supposed to be—”. He took a step closer, arms crossed over his chest, still fuming. “You disappeared. One day you were just… gone.”

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head. “Trust me, it wasn’t my idea.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?” he shot back, voice rising. “Or send word?”

The words hit you like blaster fire. You swallowed hard, suddenly angry in a way you hadn’t expected. “You think I didn’t want to?”

He didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened again.

“I was 15, Cassian. My parents shoved me on a ship and told me to run. I didn’t even know where we were going.”

His eyes flickered, something cracking in them. You could tell he wasn’t angry. Not really... He seemed hurt.

“I looked for you,” he said quietly. “After you left. For weeks. Bix and I—we thought maybe something had happened.”

A familiar silence settled between you, dense with everything unspoken. You were still in the same dress, the same heels—but you suddenly felt exposed, as if reduced to some younger version of yourself. The girl he used to tease, the one who ran after him in the alleys of Ferrix, swearing she hated him even as she followed him everywhere.

His eyes lingered on your face now, softer than before. “And now you’re… what? Working for the rebellion?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I have been. For a while.”

“And tonight?”

You shrugged, trying to sound casual, but the lump in your throat gave you away. “The usual. Flirt, distract, steal secrets.”

Cassian stared at you a second longer, then huffed a breath through his nose and looked away. “You’re good at it.”

You gave a dry laugh. “Yeah. Guess life turned me into something useful after all.”

His gaze snapped back to you. “That’s not what I meant.”

You looked at him—really looked at him—and realized just how long it had been. How much time had passed. You weren’t the same girl. And he wasn’t the same boy.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with silence.

Finally, he stepped toward the cockpit, brushing past you. “We’ll be on Yavin in a few hours.

You watched him go, heart thudding in your chest.

“Cassian,” you called out quietly.

He paused in the doorway, turning just slightly.

You hesitated. Then: “It’s really good to see you.”

A flicker of something passed through his eyes—relief, maybe.

“You too,” he said. Then he disappeared into the cockpit.

NEXT CHAPTER

[onlymingyus]

White Blank Page

pairing; choi seungcheol (s.coups) x f reader

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, royalty AU, fairy tale spinoff

summary; You had met Prince Seungcheol of Tsornoia twice in your life and now you were going to be his wife. You would be queen and share in everything his life meant—the good and the bad.

content warnings; fairy tale au (snow white), royalty au, prince!seungcheol, princess!reader, prince!joshua, duke!jeonghan, butler!seungkwan, evil queen, evil stepmother, arranged marriage, dark themes, blackmail, attempted murder, poisoning, horses, falling off a horse, pregnancy, miscarriage, eating/drinking, alcohol, crying, fighting—this one reminds us that fairy tales aren't always happy.

smut warnings; unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, oral, breeding kink (sue me its a cheol fic), crying from pleasure -- if there is something i missed let me know.

w/c;  full fic with Patreon bonus 26.6k

song inspiration; white blank page - mumford and sons

a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading. this fic kicked my ass i won't even lie. i love it but i am also happy to finally get it out to you. i enjoyed writing the beauty and the beast spin off for fatal trouble and this snow white spin off was just as interesting to write! thank you all for reading and being patient.

A white blank page and a swelling rage, rage You did not think when you sent me to the brink, to the brink You desired my attention But denied my affections, my affections

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

The paper felt like it weighed a ton in Seungcheol’s hands. It wasn’t that he didn’t wish or want to marry you, but this wedding seemed rushed. Neither the bride nor the groom had much say in how anything would take place, and Seungcheol had been given very little opportunity to speak with you leading up to the day. In truth, he had only spoken to you a handful of times, and now, by the end of the day, you’d be his wife—his future queen. 

The first time he had met you, neither of you were old enough to realize what your future would be. You were a cute girl dressed far too regal for your age. Despite being just two years younger than Seungcheol, you seemed so young and fragile in his eyes. Seungcheol had been raised to be strong of will and body; you had been raised to match the beauty that had been evident from the time you had been born. 

“Be gentle with her. She isn’t your friend, Seungcheol. She is their princess. She may be your future bride.” 

Seungcheol could remember turning his nose up at the idea. He had been far too young to care about a wife. He had wanted to play with you like he would with any of his other friends. That was until the two of you were running around the palace garden and you tripped, cutting your knee. Then Seungcheol realized playing with a girl, especially a pretty princess like you, was different than playing with one of the rugged sons of a duke. 

“Stop crying…” 

Your eyes were wide as blood began to run down your leg towards your ankle. Big tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping onto the front of your dress. Seungcheol was beginning to panic. He had been told to be careful, and he had done the exact opposite. 

“Please… You’re gonna get me in trouble, Princess. ‘M sorry!” 

You attempted to suck back your tears, but the more you tried and the more that Seungcheol begged you to stop crying, the harder they fell. Moving to his knees, Seungcheol pouted before taking out his small handkerchief and tediously began cleaning the blood from your leg. 

“Th–thank you.” 

You had spoken through your tears. The sound of your shaky voice had almost broken Seungcheol’s heart. You really were as fragile and gentle as you seemed. 

“Y/N!” 

You and Seungcheol had looked towards the frantic voice. A boy of his same age had all but pushed Seungcheol out of his way and settled at your side. He was clearly upset, his fingers carefully checking your skin around the angry cut. 

“What happened? What did you do to her?” 

Seungcheol had started to speak and to defend himself when he found himself staring at you in surprise. 

“Shua! No. I fell down. Prince Seungcheol didn’t do anything bad.” You had always had your big brother wrapped around your pinky. You were his only sibling and his pride and joy. “Don’t be mad, ‘kay? See, I’m not crying anymore.” 

It was difficult for Seungcheol or Joshua to hide their smiles as you wiped your wet cheeks and smiled so sweetly to prove your point. 

“I—you gotta be more careful, Y/N. You got blood on your dress…” Joshua’s brows had furrowed, concern deeply written in his eyes as he helped you stand. “My—Prince Seungcheol, look, I’m sorry. It’s my job to watch her, and then I heard her crying. Our dad would literally kill me if somethin—” 

“I get it. You don’t have to apologize to me. I—” Meeting your pretty eyes, Seungcheol cleared his throat and sighed into his words. “I wouldn’t ever hurt her on purpose…” 

Seungcheol had meant those words, and he had kept that promise into the second meeting with you. He had just turned 19, and you were truly the belle of the ball. He had moved past childish notions of how he felt about girls, and you—you had taken his breath away. 

“Good evening, Princess.” 

Your smile was the same, just like your eyes. You were kind. Your kingdom loved and cherished you. Many other kingdoms had begun showing interest, and once again Seungcheol’s parents reminded him that you might be his queen one day. It all seemed so silly at the time. He wasn’t anywhere close to being ready to marry, and yet as he looked at you in a grand ballroom, he considered it. 

“Prince Seungcheol. It’s an honor to see you again.” You weren’t lying. You had thought about Choi Seungcheol many times over the years, and as you grew up, his face had stayed with you. “Though you are much bigger than the last time we met.” 

Just like your smile, your laugh was sweet and melodic. It was the type of sound that made Seungcheol’s heart tighten. He found himself wanting to hear it again, as often as possible. Laughing quietly into his own words, Seungcheol offered you his arm, allowing him to guide you towards the dance floor. “I—well, yes. I’ve grown, as have you.” He knew it was bold, but a sense of pride was flowing through him like waves of light as bright as your smile. “I mean, you’ve grown in beauty, though surely you know.” 

You felt eyes on you and Seungcheol as you let him lead you to the middle of the floor. His attention was like standing next to an open flame. No matter where you looked, you always found yourself drawn back to his dark brown eyes. “Oh… I—thank you. I’m not sure I would say that about myself. I’m merely comm—” 

“There is nothing common about you, Y/N.” 

It was the first time he had called you by your name. The sound of it on his lips was enough to leave you breathless. You weren’t a fool. You knew what you meant to the princes of the surrounding kingdoms, but this was Choi Seungcheol of Tsornoria. You were common compared to him—everyone was. “You are too kind, your highness. You flatter me.” 

Seungcheol found himself that day wondering if your cheeks would be hot to the touch after receiving his compliments. You were so endearingly shy. It was obvious how innocent you still were, and yet Seungcheol dared to test his limits with you. He had lifted his hand and brushed away the hair on your cheek; to his pleasant surprise, your skin was as warm as it would be if you had been sitting by a fire. 

“Perhaps, but it’s not a lie. Are you not aware of how many other princes here are plotting my demise at this moment?” Amused with your reaction, how you scanned the room looking for danger, Seungcheol laughed softly and carefully grasped your waist, leading you with the music. “I mean that every man in this room wishes they were in my place. They wish they were the one dancing with you.” 

You weren’t so naive that you didn’t know what this ball was for. You were coming of age in a few short years, and soon negotiations would begin. You would be marrying someone in this room, the thought of which terrified you—until you met Seungcheol’s eyes again. “Perhaps. But I chose to dance with you.” 

Since that day, Seungcheol had known that this might eventually happen, but things were different. It had been close to ten years since that ball, and suddenly overnight it was real. Seungcheol wanted to be happy, perhaps even excited about this marriage, but something was nagging him in the back of his head. 

For the past few years, different arrangements had been in the works. He had lost any hope that you would end up his bride, but each one of the arrangements had failed. It had all started after his father passed away and he became the crown prince. His mother—his stepmother, the queen—had taken over for his father, and Seungcheol’s life was turned on its head. 

“I want this entire hall prepared for the Hong family. It’s of utmost importance!” 

Seungcheol could feel the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes, and the sound of his stepmother’s voice only made it worse. She had fought for so many of the previous arrangements to just suddenly change her mind when your family had finally accepted. 

It wasn’t exactly hidden how much money she had spent since her husband’s death. The kingdom was suffering for her indulgence, and its only saving grace was that Seungcheol was going to take his place at the throne. Once he took his birthright, he would have access to the money that was left to him by his father—money that his stepmother would never have the right to while he was breathing. 

Now the fact that Seungcheol was standing around with his head in his hands only fueled his stepmother’s annoyance. He had a job to do. There may not have been much, in her not-so-humble opinion, that Seungcheol was good at, but at least he had his father’s looks. 

“Choi Seungcheol!” 

Closing his eyes tighter to the sound of his stepmother’s voice, Seungcheol sighs and takes a moment before he finally looks up to meet her gaze. She looked frustrated. That didn’t surprise him. Since his father had died, behind closed doors, she had always had a resentful look in her eyes where he was concerned. “What have I done now—-” 

The words had been said out of exhaustion, but Seungcheol’s stepmother took them as what she knew them to be—malice. “That is in fact the question. After all I’ve done for you. All the plans that I have made for your future to be prosperous, and you stand here looking like this is a funeral instead of a wedding. Have you made an effort to prepare yourself to greet your bride?” 

This was how many of the conversations went with his stepmother. She sucked all the air out of the room and took up all the words. Seungcheol simply sighs and allows her to continue, knowing he wouldn’t get in a word either way, at least not until she deemed it the time. Soon he would be king, and perhaps then things would change. Perhaps then his stepmother would give him the respect he deserved. 

“Of course you haven’t. You stand here sulking like a child. You aren’t a child, Seungcheol! You are to be crowned after this wedding. Act like the king your father raised you to—” 

“Enough, Mother!” It was bold of Seungcheol to raise his voice, but the mention of his father struck a nerve. He would give anything for his father to still be here and to be alive. He’d offer his soul to have his father share this day with him instead of his stepmother. If his father were here, perhaps it would feel like a joyous occasion. “I will go greet her and her family as soon as they arrive. You don’t have to worry about such things. Isn’t there a bottle of wine to drink or a maid to yell at?” 

Fire burns behind her eyes as Seungcheol’s stepmother watches him straighten his jacket and start to move away from her. He was spoiled and not even close to being ready for the responsibilities that were coming his way. “Spineless… How dare you mock me, Choi Seungcheol! Do as you were taught and at least pretend to be a human before you greet her. We can’t handle yet another princess fleeing at the thought of marrying you. The kingdom can’t withstand the shame…” 

Shame… What a funny way to put it. In Seungcheol’s mind, much of the kingdom’s shame came from their queen. He had spent years cleaning up after his stepmother, including all of the previous arrangements that had fallen through. He had tried to find his wife within his stepmother’s long list of princesses, and yet there was always a flaw that she would find. It was as if she was looking for one thing to set them or their family apart from the rest. Each and every one would begin to leave dejected either days before a wedding or sometimes on the wedding day itself. If it weren’t for Seungcheol, many of those failed unions would have resulted in resentment, but he followed up with each one, making it as right as he could with each family. 

“Your Highness, they’re here.” 

Taking a breath and feeling the tension in the room lessen, Seungcheol nods to Boo Seungkwan, thankful for the butler’s presence. Though the man was new to his position, he had learned everything from his father before and seemed to have a keen eye for when he was needed most. 

“Very well. Let’s greet my bride and her family, Seungkwan…” 

Simply being out of the same room as his stepmother did wonders for Seungcheol’s mood. He hadn’t always been the seemingly stoic, tortured man he was now, and if given the chance to know him, people found he was quite the opposite. Seungcheol was similar to his father in more than his looks. His father had been beloved by his kingdom and the entire palace staff—Seungcheol was the same. Both men were known to go above and beyond to put the welfare of their citizens above their own and both were like candles being snuffed out slowly. Up to the day he died, Seungcheol’s father had worked his fingers to the bone for his kingdom. The loss of their king was felt not only by Seungcheol and the palace staff but also by every citizen of Tsornoria and the surrounding kingdoms. 

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” 

Seungkwan’s words, laden with concern, bring a smile to Seungcheol’s face as he walks side by side with the man through the halls towards the main entrance. “I always am. You don’t have to worry so much about me, Seungkwan. You’ll get wrinkles.” Smirking to himself, Seungcheol watches Seungkwan’s brows furrow out of habit to the teasing. “You already look older than me and you are even younger than our soon-to-be queen.” 

While Seungkwan knew his place, he was no stranger to Seungcheol’s teasing. He was younger, and yet in many ways he acted beyond his years—that didn’t mean he had lost his spunk. “I don’t have wrinkles. You have wrinkles…” 

The words are muttered under his breath but still heard by Seungcheol, who chuckles playfully, leaning to bump his shoulder against the butler's. “You’re right, I do. 29 years old and I look like an old man already.” 

Shaking his head, Seungkwan gives Seungcheol an incredulous look. It was clearly a joke. Anyone with eyes could see that Seungcheol was the picture of health and good genes. He had the ability to make any man feel inferior by simply being in the same room. “Well, you said it, not me.” 

Seungcheol’s chuckle softly grows into a much-needed laugh. Patting Seungkwan on the back, he grins fondly at the other man before taking in a deep, calming breath. “Thank you for never changing, Seungkwan. I hope you still treat me like this even after they give me my father’s crown.” 

“It’s your crown, Your Highness, and they aren’t giving it to you.” Seungkwan understood what Seungcheol was trying to say, but he had spent hours, if not days, trying to get this point through the prince’s thick skull. “They will be honoring your birthright. That crown is and was yours from the moment you were born.” 

Another fond smile spreads across Seungcheol’s lips as he nods once again, gently squeezing Seungkwan’s shoulder. “Perhaps.” 

Your heart was in your throat. Everything was bigger than you were used to. The buildings were in the sky and you were having a hard time looking like you belonged in Tsornoria. 

“Come on, Y/N.” 

You were lucky that your brother was beside you. Joshua’s expression hadn’t changed from the time that your family had received the call for you. He was almost unreadable, and yet he was a rock at your side, keeping you steady. 

Humming under your breath, you put on a smile and take his arm to walk beside him towards the open palace doors. “It’s different here, right?” 

Joshua glances around for the first time, allowing himself to take in his surroundings. He had been so focused on you—on this entire situation—that he hadn’t really taken a breath. “Mmm, it is. Pretty in an overwhelming way.” Sighing into his words, Joshua then turns to smile at you, watching your fake smile become a real one. “You’ll get used to it over time, but then how will I get you to come home for a visit?” Gesturing towards one of the skyscrapers to the far left of the palace, he lifts his brows. “You’ll learn to live in the clouds and won’t want to come back to Eberik for anything.” 

The smile on your lips fades with Joshua’s words. You knew he was right about you getting used to Tsornoria, but he was wrong about everything else. “I’m just as interested in the sky as I am everything on the ground, Shua. Eberik is my home—” 

“Was your home, Y/N… Don’t let the Queen hear you say that.” 

Your brother was right. You knew that the Queen of Tsornoria was formidable and full of pride. It was almost a crazy thought that soon enough you’d hold that title. How were you going to step into her shoes and hold up that mantle? It seemed impossible. It seemed exhausting. 

The entire trip from Eberik, one thing had kept your spirits high—you would see Seungcheol soon. Perhaps it was childish to still hold a candle for him, but the closer you had gotten to Tsornoria, the more real it all seemed. You had played pretend so many times as a child and many of those fairy tales from your mind were just like this. You were going to be Seungcheol’s wife. You were going to see him again and you just hoped that he even remembered you. 

“God, he’s gotten even bigger. What’s the point?” Joshua’s voice is muffled under a sigh as he makes eye contact with Seungcheol just inside of the palace doors. He could feel you straighten your posture at his side and for some reason that made him feel even more frustrated. You were excited about this—Joshua was not. It wasn’t that he didn’t know he’d have to give up his little sister at some point, but why did it have to be to Choi Seungcheol? 

In Joshua’s mind, you were too good for this prince. You were too precious to become the wife and queen to someone with his reputation. If it hadn’t been for the Queen herself reaching out to your father and Joshua, this wedding wouldn’t be taking place. 

“Oh… He’s handsome, Shua. Do I really look okay?” 

Nausea takes hold of Joshua at your words. You were still so childish in his eyes. Marriages were built on convenience and power. Your marriage was no different, but the fact that you clearly felt something for Seungcheol made this worse. “You look beautiful. He’d be a fucking idiot not to see that.”

Lightly nudging against Joshua when he curses, you feel your cheeks begin to burn. Seungcheol was looking at you so intently—of course he was. You knew that you were on a trial for the next few hours until you walked down that aisle. There was always something that could go wrong and you could be sent back to Eberik with your head between your legs out of shame. 

“Your Highness, Princess Y/N of Eberik.” 

Seungcheol scoffs at Seungkwan’s announcement of your name and title. While he knew it was tradition, it seemed so silly. He knew who you were. God, he’d have to have his brain removed from his head and scrubbed clear to forget you. Somehow you were even more beautiful with age from the last time he had seen you at the ball. 

“Prince Seungcheol of—” 

“She knows who I am, Seungkwan. Thank you.” Taking his time down the palace steps, Seungcheol ignores the glare from the butler as he makes his way down to you. “And I know her. Princess, welcome to Tsornoria.”

It felt impossible for you to breathe when Seungcheol stood in front of you expectantly. You knew there were words you were supposed to say, but nothing was left in your brain as he smiled at you and lowered his head out of respect. 

“She’s honored to be here, your highness. Our entire family is honored…” 

While the words seemed forced, Seungcheol still smiles as he turns his attention to the man on your arm. He knew who he was and he could see the daggers behind Joshua Hong’s eyes. Lifting his hand towards your brother, Seungcheol once again nods his head respectfully and sighs into his words. “The honor is mine, I can assure you.” 

Joshua couldn’t argue with that as he took Seunghcheol’s hand into his and firmly gripped it. “Mm, yes.” Not wanting to be the first person to let go, Joshua tilts his head and meets the prince’s eyes almost defiantly. He was a prince himself. Perhaps he wasn’t the prince next in line for a kingdom like Tsornoria, but the pride he held for his own kingdom would level Seungcheol’s entire ego. When his hand is released, Joshua considers holding tighter but instead lets go so he can turn his attention back to you as Seungcheol does the same. You looked like a fish out of water, your eyes wide as you stared at your soon-to-be husband in front of you. Where you were feeling awe and a rejuvenation of your childhood crush, Joshua simply saw uneasiness written on your face. 

“Come, I can show you around, Princess.” 

Taking a deep breath, you feel your cheeks heat up just from Seungcheol’s words. You were a princess. The title had never made you feel like this before; it was only when he said it. “O-okay. I’d like that.” 

Joshua takes a step forward when you do. His eyes fall to your hand now in Seungcheol's, and he feels bile rise in his throat. Was this really worth it? Was what the family promised for your dowry worth you losing your soul to this man? Meeting Seungcheol’s questioning eyes, Joshua narrows his own deviantly. 

“I’m okay, Shua.” You lean to press a soft kiss to your brother’s cheek that seems to calm him down for a moment. He had always been too protective of you, but it had gotten worse over the past few years. “I’ll see you soon.” 

With your hand in his, Seungcheol furrows his brows and begins to guide you into the palace, leaving Joshua and Seungkwan behind. It didn’t seem to matter how far inside the expansive hallway the two of you got; he could still sense Joshua’s eyes lingering on him. What had that been about? Was he just that protective of his family or was there something more that he needed to get to the bottom of before the day’s big events began? 

Letting his eyes slowly move along your pretty face, Seungcheol smiles at how lucky he feels suddenly. You were shaking, your hand was delicate in his, and yet the feeling was addictive. “You must be very loved by your family, Y/N.” Gesturing behind you, Seungcheol’s smile grows into something fond but teasing. “I was almost afraid he would beat me for taking you away.” 

A breath escapes your lips on a slight laugh. You knew that Seungcheol might not be wrong, but you weren’t going to admit that—especially not to him. “Oh… No! Joshua would never do something like that. He’s happy that I’m getting married.” 

That was the first lie you had told Seungcheol today, but he was going to let it go by without calling you out on it. It was evident to anyone in or around the palace that Joshua wasn’t pleased with this arrangement, but more pointedly, your would-be husband. “Ah. I see.” 

“My entire family is excited, but if I can say so, no one is as excited as me. I—” You laugh sweetly, causing Seungcheol’s cheeks to become fuller with a grin. “I honestly never thought this day would come. They hinted at it for nearly a decade and now—” Glancing around you, then back up to Seungcheol, your cheeks burn from his attention. “It’s real.” 

You weren’t wrong. Seungcheol had lost faith that this day would become a reality as well. He had spent many a lonely evening considering who might become his wife and every time you popped into his mind. He barely knew you and yet he was just as infatuated as you clearly were. Your sweet, innocent eyes were full of love as you looked at him and Seungcheol felt like he was going to happily drown in the feeling. 

“It is real and how lucky I am. By the end of the night I will have such a stunning wife.” You look away shyly, a smile still on your lips that has Seungcheol’s chest burning with desire. “Such a beautiful queen by my side.” 

Starting to speak, the idea of becoming queen still not quite feeling real, you find yourself stopping to the sound of another voice. You had met the Queen once at your coming-of-age ball, but then her husband had been alive and she seemed genuine. The stories of her downfall were something that you had been warned about, and yet now you were seeing it firsthand. You remembered a bright woman with seemingly no malice in her eyes; now, however, you felt minuscule under her gaze. 

“Seungcheol, I need Princess Y/N. It’s time to prepare for the ceremony.” Forcing a tight smile in your direction, the Queen coos over you as she takes your free hand, guiding you towards her. “Come along, dear. Your family is waiting and—”

“Surely we have a bit more time to talk before we have to walk down the aisle, Mother.” Seungcheol was clearly annoyed as his stepmother attempted to take you from him. He had gotten no more than ten minutes alone with you since you had arrived and now you were being whisked away. 

“No, you don’t. The days aren’t as long as you would like them to be, darling. Besides—” Finally managing to ease you to her side as you give Seungcheol a sympathetic look, the queen sighs into her words. “You’ll have her all to yourself soon enough. Don’t be greedy. It’s not a good look for someone of your standing. People might begin to wonder if you’ve defiled her beforehand. We can’t have that, Seungcheol.” 

You were standing right there and yet the queen didn’t seem to acknowledge you more than keeping you close to her side away from Seungcheol. Her words send a shiver up your spine and have you looking down at the floor from shame. You had done nothing wrong, neither had Seungcheol, but still she had managed to make you feel like you were acting like a common whore. 

“Honestly, Mother… That’s ridiculous. Nothing of the sort—” 

“It doesn’t matter if it has happened or not. People talk, Seungcheol. Use your brain for once.” Offering you that same tight smile as before, the queen hums softly and urges you back in the direction you came from. “Come along. Time to become a bride.”  

“She’s very pretty, Cheollie. I see why you were so whipped for all these years.” 

Rolling his eyes at Yoon Jeonghan’s teasing, Seungcheol rolls his shoulders in an attempt to help Seungkwan get him ready. The suit was one of the nicest that he had ever worn, and that was saying something. He was used to any luxury he could think of, and yet his stepmother had gone all out for this royal wedding. It made sense to him at the end of the day, but he still felt like a big being fattened up and dressed for slaughter. 

“Jeonghan isn’t wrong this time, your highness.”

Seungcheol had been prepared for most of Jeonghan’s teasing, but he wasn’t ready enough for Seungkwan’s. He starts to speak only to roll his eyes once again when the other men start to squabble. 

“Kwannie, why do you call him ‘your highness’ and yet refuse to call me by my title?” There was a layer of sulking laced into Jeonghan’s words as he shifted on the chair, crossing his leg over the other, keeping his eyes on his best friends. 

“Because he is my prince. He will be my king. You are barely presentable as a duke.” 

This was better than the teasing. At least they were focused on one another instead of him. This gave Seungcheol time to think about you and about how you were one hall over getting into your wedding dress. The thought left him breathless and feeling like he was floating. You were really going to be his wife and it was happening in less than two hours. 

“Cheollie is daydreaming again. Is it about Y/N? I wouldn’t blame you. I never thought this would actually happen.” 

Seungcheol knew all too well that no one thought it would. Every single other princess had been sent back home with their tail between their legs by his stepmother. It had many asking questions. Why you? Why now? 

Pushing his feelings to the side, Seungcheol puts on a smile. It didn’t really matter why. What really mattered was the fact that Seungcheol felt like he was winning for the first time in his life. “Best not to dwell on the why and just be happy it’s happening. If she’s in a good mood and willing to let me move on with my life, I’ll count it as a gift. Besides…” The thought of you is enough to brighten Seungcheol’s smile as he watches Seungkwan adjust his cloak in the mirror. “Y/N is my gift. Nothing could possibly go wrong with her by my side.” 

“You will look beautiful, dear. Your mother would have loved to be part of this day…” 

Your father’s voice pulls you out of your daze and brings a smile to your face. Even from behind the dressing curtain, you could feel a rush of pride throughout the room. Where Joshua seemed a bit stoic, perhaps even upset with the notion of you getting married today, your father was overjoyed. This marriage would mean so much for his kingdom and it would change your life in ways he’d never dream of being able to do. 

“She’s always beautiful. I don’t understand the need for all the pomp and circumstance.” Sighing into his words, Joshua leans his head back and looks up at the ornate ceiling. “Y/N deserves it, of course, but not when her betrothed is a piece of—” 

“Joshua! That’s enough. You’ve voiced your concerns more than once—” 

“And yet you both seem to be ignoring them.” 

The smile your father’s words had put on your face quickly fades as he and Joshua begin to argue once again. You do what you have learned to do—tune them out. You focus instead on trying to put on the finishing touches with the help of your maid. Her kind smile meeting yours in the mirror gives you the boost of strength you needed. 

“You really do look so beautiful, your highness.” 

There is a sadness in her voice that you try to lift with a kind smile of your own. “Thank you. You could stay here with me… if you wanted.” 

Shaking her head, the girl flushes slightly as she glances around the dressing curtain, meeting Joshua’s eyes. “No, I’m not as brave as you.” 

It didn’t have anything to do with bravery. At first it was about honor and now it was more about excitement. You were going to start a new chapter in your life with your husband. 

“Is she dressed?” 

Your maid nods before guiding you from behind the curtain, letting your father and brother look at you. Your father’s reaction to seeing you dressed in your wedding dress isn’t surprising. He had always been a sentimental man so seeing tears prick at his eyes almost immediately is heartwarming. Joshua, on the other hand, stares at you for a long moment before rising to his feet and moving towards you. 

“Do I look okay?” 

That was a stupid question. Joshua knew that you knew all too well how lovely you looked in your dress. You looked mature, like the royalty that you were. He knew you were asking more for him. His opinion was important to you and you needed to hear what he had to say. The words were easier thought than said. Saying them would let you believe he was placing his blessing upon this union; nothing could be further from the truth—and yet he smiles at you. “The most beautiful bride there could ever be…” 

Standing in the spot that he never thought he’d be, Seungcheol felt his stomach tightening with nerves. There was just enough time for you or your family to refuse the union, but even as thousands of eyes lingered on him, Seungcheol had a good feeling that he’d see you walking towards him soon enough. 

He had imagined how stunning you might be walking down the aisle towards him, but his imagination wasn’t able to match reality. You took his breath away the moment the large doors to the cathedral opened. Music and coos from the crowd should bring Seungcheol back to reality, but he found himself staring at you in awe. The bright light peeking through the cathedral doors managed to truly make you look like the angel you were. 

Dressed in white satin, silk, and delicate lace, you carefully walk down the aisle on your father’s arm. You knew you were supposed to smile. You were supposed to look overjoyed. None of that was difficult; your cheeks ached from how brightly you smiled, but instead of seeing anyone else in the cathedral, you only saw Seungcheol, never feeling his eyes leave you. Being a princess, you had been told your share of fairy tales, but now you felt like you were living one. 

There were people speaking; you knew that you should be paying attention to what they were saying, but your father had placed your hands in Seungcheol’s. You had met his caramel eyes and felt like you were floating over the floor. A quiet laugh from the guests brings you back to the present as Seungcheol grins at you and moves his eyes towards the priest, guiding you to pay attention. 

 "Choi Seungcheol, will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep only to her, so long as you both shall live?"

This was a big promise to make to someone you barely knew, and yet Seungcheol didn’t have to fake his answer. Looking at you, he felt like he was breathing for the first time. This was real and you were his. “I will.” 

Just two words and Seungcheol once again takes your breath away. He wanted you to be his wife. This wasn’t just you playing make-believe in your chambers; this was forever. 

"Y/N Hong, wilt thou have this man to be your wedded husband, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep only to him, so long as you both shall live?"

Now Seungcheol was holding his breath as he waited for your answer. He could see it written in your eyes and yet the fear of rejection lingers. The moment “I will” slips from your lips, he breathes deeply, almost overwhelmed by the calming scent of your perfume. You had really said yes. It was hard to listen to the priest as he went through the rest of the ceremony. Seungcheol’s eyes were locked with yours, only straying to your lips out of impatience until finally the priest said what he had been waiting to hear. 

"What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. You may kiss your bride, your highness.” 

Your lips were like candy waiting for Seungcheol to taste. He wanted to deepen the kiss and enjoy the small sounds that only he could hear, but the cheering from the guests once again brought him back to the moment. He didn’t have you to himself yet, but he could feel the bite of your ring against his fingers. He had put that ring there and that’s where it would stay. 

“We did it.” Your voice is smaller than you intend, but Seungcheol manages to hear. A sweet smile pulls at his lips as he nods along with you. 

“‘Yes, we did. Now I get to say what I wanted to all those years ago.” Seungcheol almost swoons when you smile at him, tilting your head questioningly. “Remember when we danced and I told you others would be plotting my demise?” With you on his arm, Seungcheol walks you back towards the cathedral doors as they reopen. “I wanted to say, let them try it. I’d do anything for you.” 

It was hard for you not to think that Seungcheol’s words were just that, pretty words, but his hand never left yours. Even as the room started to fill full of people, your husband's hand either found yours or your waist, keeping you close to him. Every look from Seungcheol was akin to feeling the sun on your skin as he smiled at you so sweetly, moving you towards the center of the floor and taking you into his arms. 

Neither of you had chosen the music or had any input on flowers, food, or even the guest list—yet none of that seemed to matter as Seungcheol’s thumb stroked yours as he danced with you. This was the same boy—the same man—who had danced with you at your debut ball, and yet now he was looking at you like you were his entire life. You had never pictured yourself falling in love with your husband on your wedding day as you danced, but that was exactly what was happening. 

Tipping back another flute of champagne, Joshua narrows his eyes as you laugh softly at something Seungcheol is saying right against the shell of your ear. Did he have no manners? It didn’t matter if the two of you were married now or not; certain things shouldn’t be seen by the public, even at a wedding. 

“Your sister seems pleased with her marriage.” 

Rolling his eyes at the comment from the familiar voice near him, Joshua starts to scoff and give some snarky comment back, but then he meets the queen’s inquisitive eyes. Lowering his head apologetically, Joshua clears his throat and puts his hand against his chest, feeling his heart start to race. “She is, your majesty. We are thrilled to be part of your family. Thank—” 

“Enough with the pleasantries. Walk with me?” Gesturing towards the door leading to the hall just outside of the ballroom, the queen offers Joshua a tight smile, letting him know he can’t refuse. 

“O–of course, ma’am.” Putting his glass down, Joshua begins to move past the queen, ready to open the doors for her, when she takes his arm, keeping him by her side. “Oh, I—” 

“I said walk with me, not clear a path for me.” Nodding to keep Joshua moving toward the door, the queen sighs under her breath, giving one last look to you and Seungcheol before leading the man out of the room. “Since we are family now, Joshua—” Smiling softly, she glances up at the younger man before shooing away her maid and continuing. “I’d like to think that we can share things in confidence. That perhaps you can be honest with me?” 

Furrowing his brows, Joshua swallows hard, feeling his palms becoming damp with nerves, his sense of danger heightened. “Yes, of course, your majesty.” Daring to take a quick look around, seeing no one near them, Joshua barely meets the queen’s eyes before glancing down at the ground. “Wh—what did you want to speak to me about?” 

It wasn’t lost on her that Joshua was exceedingly handsome. He was nice to look at and if this had been another day, another circumstance, this conversation might have ended up with Joshua in her bed, but there was something more important that the queen needed the prince of Eberik for. “This marriage, of course. Tell me your true feelings about your angelic sister marrying my son.” 

This felt like a trap. Joshua was standing at the mouth of a lion’s cage and any words that would leave his mouth were like raw meat dangling from his fingers as he taunted the beast. His brows furrow so deeply that it’s almost painful as he shakes his head and starts to speak, only to stop. 

“Go on, and don’t lie to me. I will know if you are lying.” 

Not wanting to disappoint the powerful woman on his arm, Joshua looks straight ahead and bites the bullet, letting the raw meat on his fingertips lure the lion closer. “Well, I—I should be pleased with it. It’s a beneficial arrangement, but I have to admit I haven’t heard many good things about your stepson, ma’am.” Shifting very slightly, knowing his body temperature is rising from stress, Joshua clears his throat and closes his fists tightly. “My sister is too good for him, frankly speaking.” 

If this were a normal conversation held in less friendly company, the queen knew that Joshua would be chastised, but they were alone for a reason. Humming out a sympathetic sound, she nods along with Joshua before leaning against him. “He truly is a beast. Funny that you should call him my stepson before I even do. You are a bright boy.” 

Joshua felt confused as the queen spoke with malice towards her own son, be he a stepson or not. Still concerned this was a trap of some kind, Joshua shakes his head. “I—well, I shouldn’t speak that way about—” 

“I asked for the truth and you delivered it, Joshua. There is no question of my feelings towards Seungcheol. My love for him died with his father. That is simply a fact.” Sighing softly as if asking for sympathy for herself, the queen finally meets Joshua’s eyes with a slight pout on her lips. “Now he is nothing but a burden.” 

Slowing to a stop beside the queen, Joshua tilts his head, feeling a strange mix of feelings bubbling inside of him. In some ways he did feel sympathy for her, and in others, anger towards her. Why would she say this to him now after you had already said yes to a life by her stepson’s side? Did she want to rub it in? Make him feel worse? “Why are you telling me this?” 

Finally, Joshua was catching on. Maybe, just maybe, she could have an ally in her decisions going forward. “As I said, you are a bright boy. Come, walk further with me. We have much to discuss.” 

Your cheeks were on fire as Seungcheol’s fingers gently pressed into your waist. He had spent the last ten minutes excusing you both, and now you were at the doorway leading to the hall inside your new home. You knew what came next. Perhaps not in the greatest detail, but you were a smart woman. You had listened well to tutors and even to your married friend’s advice, but now it all felt like a distant memory. 

“Our rooms are connected.” Gesturing to the door on the furthest wall, Seungcheol leads you into the room and closes the door behind him. “This is your room…” Glancing around it, he smiles before meeting your eyes. “Do—is it okay? You can decorate it how you see fit and I will always be just beyond—” 

“We won’t sleep in the same bed?” 

You were still so innocent and pure; that much was evident to Seungcheol as you looked around your room. “Do—” You made it hard to speak, to sound intelligent, as he cleared his throat and moved back closer to you, catching the end of your fingers in his own. “You want to share a room? I thought perhaps you’d want privacy and the comforts of not having a man constantly—”

“Not just a man. You are my husband, your highness…” You had started speaking so confidently until you met Seungcheol’s eyes and you felt as if you were standing in front of the sun. You had meant to call him Seungcheol and not use his title, but how could you speak so informally to someone like him when he was looking at you like that?

“Please don’t use titles with me. Not here… not after today.” Taking both of your hands, Seungcheol smoothes his thumb along your ring finger, catching the stone under the pad of his finger. “You’re my wife and you will be queen very soon. No one is beneath you, least of all me.” 

The sun had begun to get low in the sky, causing a golden light to peek through the window and onto Seungcheol’s face. He was breathtaking and reminded you that he was yours. Nodding meekly, you whine, turning your face away from him only to feel his fingers gently catch your chin, turning you back. 

“It would be impossible not to fall in love with you. How did I get this lucky?” 

Taking a sharp breath, you feel your stomach tighten with Seungcheol’s words. You didn’t know him as well as you would like and yet you could tell he wasn’t lying. There was so much sincerity laced with his words that you felt your knees going weak from just hearing them. “You—you’re falling in love with me?” 

Guiding you backwards towards the long stool at the end of your bed, Seungcheol nods while slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Oh yes. The moment I saw you this morning, I knew it would be as easy as breathing to be in love with you. Then you actually said yes in that cathedral…” Shaking his head, Seungcheol helps you sit down in front of him before he moves to his knees on the floor at your legs. “You are my wife and I swear to treat you as you deserve to be treated, starting with tonight.” 

You lower your eyes to Seungcheol’s hands resting over your dress on your thighs. Feeling overwhelmed, your words get caught in your throat for a moment until you take a deep breath and try again. “I’m nervous. I—what if I’m bad at this?” 

That felt impossible to Seungcheol, but it was clear to see you were raised like a proper princess. Every movement he made, you would gasp and then quickly silence yourself, afraid to offend him with your growing desire. “You’re already perfect, Y/N. If—if you don’t want to do this tonight, I wouldn’t blame—” 

“I do! I—I want to. I’m just nervous.” Sliding your hands to meet Seungcheol’s over your dress, you meet his eyes shyly. “Just be patient with me.” 

Seungcheol had been with other women before. Perhaps he should feel bad about that, but he also knew things were different for princesses and princes. It also didn’t help that he had been so rebellious when it came to what his stepmother wanted from him. He couldn’t count the times she had sent a poor servant into his room only to see them shy away in shame after seeing him naked and some girl either on his bed or on her knees in front of him. Now none of that seemed to matter. You weren’t just some girl and this wasn’t something to be ashamed of. You were his wife. 

“I wouldn’t dream of being anything else.” Moving his eyes along your neck and down to your chest, Seungcheol sighs under his breath in awe of you. The dress was the only thing you had input on for the wedding and you had chosen perfectly. It wasn’t overly flashy for a royal wedding dress; instead, it matched your innocence in a way he couldn’t even explain. 

Tracing the lace along the inside of your shoulder, he smiles when you shiver as chill bumps erupt along your skin. “You are so beautiful. Could I—” Stopping himself before he starts, Seungcheol smiles at you, gaining his own courage before trying again. “Is it ok if I help you out of your dress?” 

You nod timidly before shifting forward just a bit as Seungcheol moves to his feet to sit next to you. Every gentle touch from him has your breath quickening, but it’s when his strong fingers begin to work each delicate button loose along your back. Glancing over to watch his expression change, you smile as his brows furrow in concentration and mild frustration. 

“There are so many buttons. How did you even manage to get into this dress without pulling your hair out?” 

Laughing softly, you shake your head as Seungcheol complains. “I had help getting dressed. It seemed easy for her to button all of them, but my maid is too kind to say otherwise.” 

Undoing button after button, Seungcheol pouts to himself until he reaches your lower back, feeling the last button give way. “You were stunning in the dress, darling, but I think I’d prefer less complicated clothing in the future.” 

Darling. Taking a deeper breath, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes as they lift to yours. You had been called your name, princess, and even his wife—yet darling made your heart feel like it was going to explode. “Okay…” You’d give him anything he asked for. You’d wear nothing but nightgowns that could be swept off your body in seconds if it meant he would look at you as he was now and if he kept calling you sweet names. 

“Come here.” Moving to his feet, Seungcheol helps you do the same, though his eyes quickly fall from your face to your shoulder as your dress slips from it. A woman’s skin wasn’t anything that had ever made Seungcheol feel weak before. Nothing as simple as an ankle or shoulder had ever made his cock throb against his pants, but then you. Carefully hooking his index finger under the shoulder of your dress, Seungcheol stops breathing as he helps gravity do its job. 

The weight of the fabric on your body lifts as your dress pools in a large pile around your legs. Your first instinct is to look away from Seungcheol when you feel air against your skin, but his hand is quicker, keeping your face towards him. 

“Fuck, you are gorgeous. Here, take my hand.” 

Doing as you are told, you close your fingers around Seungcheol’s hand, letting him keep you steady as you step out of your dress and closer to him. Only white lace hid the parts of your body that you had been told were only for you and your husband to see. It seemed silly in that moment to feel ashamed as Seungcheol’s eyes moved over your body, but the burden of so many lessons growing up as a woman lay on your shoulders. “It’s—I’m cold.” 

Smiling to himself as he traces the chill bumps along your waist, Seungcheol nods along with your words. “Are you? I’m sorry. I promise I will help you get warm in a moment.” Your fingers once again in his hand, he guides you to your bed and watches in awe as you lay back on the pillows, looking up at him expectantly. 

Did any other woman before you even exist? Seungcheol knew they didn’t matter anymore. No one would ever compare to how you look right now. Nothing could match the feeling of looking at his wife on the night of his wedding. “I won’t make you wait, love.” 

Your eyes were curious even as anxiety rippled through you like a wave. You couldn’t make yourself look away as Seungcheol carefully undressed. Layer by layer more skin was revealed to you, but as his thumbs hooked into the top of his pants, you finally faltered. Pressing your lips together, you whine to the sound of your name drawing you back to your husband. 

Just as there were no other women before you, Seungcheol knew he had never been this hard in his life. He was a good lover. He knew how to take care of a woman, putting their release before his own, but your eyes moving over his body had him feeling as if he had never touched another in his entire life. With just your eyes, you had Seungcheol willing himself not to cum as he stroked himself, once feeling arousal running through him. 

Anatomy books and imagination couldn’t prepare you for seeing Seungcheol like this. His body was chiseled from stone and as your eyes moved to his hand moving slowly over his cock, you once again felt nerves ripping through you. “I’m not—how am I….” The words seem to fail you while your eyes follow Seungcheol towards your bed, but a quick look into his eyes tells you he understands. 

“You don’t understand how impressive your body is yet, Y/N. You can handle so much more than you realize. May I?” Sliding his fingernail under the strap of your bra, he smiles when you do. Helping you sit up, Seungcheol hums in appreciation as he unhooks the band behind your back, feeling the lace give way in his hand. “I want to kiss you.” 

Meeting your eyes, Seungcheol watches you tilt your head back as if giving him permission. With a smile he nods before brushing his lips along yours and speaking against them. “Not just here. I want to kiss you all over your body, baby. You are so pretty that it hurts me. It’s painful not to know what your skin feels like under my mouth.” 

Shying away from Seungcheol’s words, you gasp when you feel his thumbs move along the swell of your breast. It felt scandalous just hearing him speak to you like that, but when he acts on it, you find yourself back on your back and your breath caught in your throat. 

It was becoming Seungcheol’s mission to coax more sounds from your lips. Each brush of his lips over your shoulder had you taking a sharp breath. When his lips move further down, your soft breast under his lips, Seungcheol groans at the moan that escapes you. 

“‘M sorry…” Shaking your head, you let your hand hover over the back of his head as Seungcheol glances up at you with a question in his eyes. “I’m being so loud. I—” 

“Never try to silence yourself, Y/N. You sound like an angel. I like it… no, I fucking love it.” Catching your nipple against his teeth, Seungcheol chuckles when you arch your chest towards him, another soft, breathy moan filling the air. “I want to hear how good you feel. You can be as loud as you want in our bed.” 

Gasping out a choked breath when you feel Seungcheol’s lips wrap around the sensitive, pert bud, you finally lace your fingers into his hair loosely. Our bed. Had he chosen to give you what you wanted? Would he stay in this bed with you forever? 

Carefully lifting your hips so that he can rest his knee under your thigh, Seungcheol sucks lightly at your nipple before letting go with a low groan. His fingers trace the curves of your body down to your hips before he meets your eyes, looking for permission before he works the lace from between your legs. 

“Wai— just a second.” Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, taking in the feeling of Seungcheol’s fingers trailing along the outside of your thighs while keeping your legs tightly shut. You had feared, even for a moment, that your hesitation might upset him, but instead Seungcheol just nods and gently caresses your skin. Only when you feel yourself calming down enough to take a steady breath, do you open your eyes and find Seungcheol watching you with a caring look in his eyes. 

“You okay? We don’t have to do anything. We can just sleep, darling.” Leaning to kiss your knee, Seungcheol smiles at the happy sound on your lips. “We have all the time in the world.” 

He was right. There was no rush and still, as you lay in front of him feeling his patient touches along your skin, your own patience was thin. “I’m okay. Kiss me?” 

With no hesitation, Seungcheol furrows his brows and nods, moving to lay against you so he can cup the space where your neck and jaw meet. His lips brush over yours gently before he finally gives you the kiss he had been wanting to since you said you’d be his wife at the altar. 

Time seems to stand still with that kiss. You loosely wrap your fingers around Seungcheol’s wrist as you part your lips for his tongue, letting him slowly explore your mouth. With each passing moment as Seungcheol’s fingers tenderly explore your skin, you realize he kept his promise and you aren’t cold anymore. The feeling of being cold had been overshadowed by a burning desire for the man now resting over you. “Touch me…” 

Resting his forehead against yours, Seungcheol smiles at your whispered words. You trusted him enough to ask for something so precious and he wasn’t going to disappoint you. Glancing down the span of your body, Seungcheol watches as your legs part even just slightly. If he had thought he had to work hard to hold himself back before, with that small gesture you had reawakened him. 

“I’ll do whatever you want, baby. If you don’t like something, just—” Lifting your hand, Seungcheol puts it in his hair and closes your fist before tugging hard. “Or tell me.” 

Easing your grip on his hair, you nod before running your fingers over his hair, wanting to ease any pain he may have caused himself with your hand. “I think I’ll like anything you—” The first brush of Seungcheol’s fingers over your wet folds causes any thoughts to leave your head as it feels like a bolt of electricity rips through you. “Oh my god…” 

It was difficult not to feel a swell of pride at your reaction. It had been such a simple touch. Seungcheol could barely feel how wet you were, but it gave him the confidence to do more. “So pretty…” Leaning on his elbow, he puts more pressure behind his touch before easing your soft lips apart between your legs. 

Women were almost always soft and warm, but you were a new level of perfection. Holding back his own groan at the sight of how wet you are, Seungcheol shakes his head, turning his hand palm up so he can tease you and himself with the idea of his fingers inside of you. Carefully he nudges his knuckle against your entrance while watching your mouth fall open as your legs ease open just a bit more. 

“Have— please don’t be ashamed to answer me, okay?” Waiting for your nod as your eyes find his, Seungcheol circles your clenching hole before finally speaking again. “Have you ever done this to yourself? Wondered how it might feel when your husband took you to bed?” 

It was bold of Seungcheol to ask you something like that, but even as your cheeks flared with heat, you nodded, lifting your hips slightly only to roll them back down over his knuckle. “Uh huh… Didn’t—” Swallowing your pride, you lift your arm and rest your forearm over your eyes, finding the strength to speak. “I didn’t think it would feel this good.” 

Though Seungcheol would prefer to keep his eyes on yours, he allowed you the privacy as he looked back at his fingers between your legs. “Yeah? It feels good. I haven’t even gotten started yet.” With that, he finally works his first finger into you, feeling your warmth clench around it as a moan slips from your lips like honey. “God, baby… I wish I could show you how pretty your pussy is around my finger. I know it’s a lot right now, but imagining this around my cock—” Swallowing hard, Seungcheol curls his finger back towards himself, feeling you spasm around him. “I don’t know how long I’ll last.” 

A second finger slowly eases beside the first and you have to stop yourself from tightening your hand in Seungcheol’s hair. Instead you scratch at the bedding under you as his name mixes with a moan. You had never made yourself feel like this. Yes, you had made yourself feel good before, but this was on a different level that you’d never reached. “Please? Do it. Put it in Seu—Cheol… Please?” 

You were starting to slur your words but hearing his name shortened on your lips, even by mistake, caused Seungcheol’s cock to twitch against your thigh. You wanted him to fuck you, but you didn’t really understand what that meant. You weren’t ready. You were sucking his fingers back into you like your life depended on it, and his depended on not causing you any discomfort if he could help it. 

“Soon, my love. Soon.” Kissing along your stomach to your hip, Seungcheol glances up at you to see your arm over your head, leaving your beautiful face on display. Even with your eyes closed, Seungcheol enjoyed this more. He could see your brows furrowed with pleasure as tears marked your cheeks. 

Finally kissing your thigh, Seungcheol smiles against your skin when you jump in surprise at him being so far down your body. “Have to make sure you’re ready, and I want to taste you so bad. Who needs wedding cake when my wife looks like this in front of me?” 

Once again shying away from Seungcheol, you arch off the bed at the first gentle pass of his tongue between your folds. His fingers press into you deeper while his thumb alternates with his tongue, massaging your clit. 

This was something you had never felt before. This wasn’t something that even your married friends had told you to expect and yet you were overwhelmed with pleasure as Seungcheol groaned against your soft folds. Tightening your fingers in Seungcheol’s hair, you whine his name as your hips lift to put yourself flush with his mouth. You gasp for a full breath even as your thighs quiver with the aftereffects of your orgasm, leaving you dazed. 

“That’s it…” Groaning into his words, Seungcheol glances back at the cum slipping around his fingers before easing them out and carefully licking you clean. 

“Ah—it’s…. Cheol, I feel like I’m going to pass out if you keep doing that.” 

Kissing your wet folds one more time, he then works his kisses to your thighs and finally upward, relishing in the sounds of your soft moans. Seungcheol wanted to be inside you. He wanted that warm, wet feeling around his cock, but before he would take what he wanted, he had to know you needed him too. 

Finally his lips rest against yours in a lazy, tender kiss. You smile against Seungcheol’s lips, finally starting to come down from your high and ease into relaxation as you begin to anticipate his next move. You had lain down in this bed with nerves racing through every inch of your body but now all that was left was want. “Can you? Please?” 

Smiling against your lips, Seungcheol moves to nudge his nose against yours at your request. You had cum all over his fingers and tongue and yet you still couldn’t just ask for things fully. “Can I what, princess? You want me to fuck you? Make love to you? That what you want?” 

Whining quietly, you lean your head back and smile again as Seungcheol kisses your neck. “Yeah. Please?” You swallow and let your nails scratch lightly at his back as Seungcheol moves you on the bed. Your knee ends up against his thigh as he lies between your legs, teasing your dripping hole with the head of his cock. “Oh my god, please?” 

The last of your words come out as a whine as you plead with Seungcheol. Feeling his ego swell that much more, he gives in to you and instantly forgets how to breathe as your tight walls pull him in to you. “Fuck—” 

The word is drawn out almost as long as it takes for Seungcheol to bottom out in you. At first he simply stays still, feeling you clench around him. The initial pressure that had turned to pain quickly turns to pleasure and then impatience, urging you to make him move. With his first thrust, Seungcheol takes his time, almost drawing out the moment he is flush with you as long as the first. 

He was already fighting with himself not to cum instantly as you moaned his name. You felt better than anyone that he had been with before. There literally was no other person on the planet in that moment. Seungcheol could picture losing days or weeks in this bed with you. He had never once considered wanting to be a father until he was inside of you and rested his palm on your stomach, feeling himself move inside of you. 

He wanted to talk more. Let the dirty, sinful thoughts racing through his brain out, but instead Seungcheol just groans your name and buries his face against the crook of your neck as his thrusts become more urgent. He wanted to live inside of you for the rest of his life. He would keep you full of him until you were round with his babies. He’d populate the entire palace with your children until the two of you were too frail to handle it. Even then he’d worship the ground you walked on and never leave you wanting. 

For you, nothing had prepared you for how full you would feel with Seungcheol inside of you. No book could explain this feeling and how perfect it felt to be connected to your husband like this. Without even needing to hear his words, you were already hoping this would leave you carrying his child. You had always wanted to be a mother, but no other man that you had even let court you had ever left you feeling feverish with this desire. It would be that you were pregnant with a baby; it would be that you were pregnant with Seungcheol’s baby—his heir. 

Rolling your hips down over Seungcheol, you whimper, feeling that now familiar feeling of your stomach tightening and pleasure rushing through your body. “I— Seungcheol…” 

He didn’t need to be warned that you were cumming. Seungcheol could feel it before you even said anything. You were trying to milk him dry and he wasn’t going to stop until you did. Burying his cock deeply, Seungcheol groans against the shell of your ear as you hold him like a vice. The pressure is almost too much. He starts to feel overwhelmed, his own release right on the edge when you cry his name, taking him with you. 

Warmth fills you from the inside out. Your arms and legs feel like jelly as Seungcheol scoots you up on the bed, resting your head back on the pillow. Your smile only fades slightly when you feel him ease from you, the full feeling gone as his cum starts to drip from you onto the bedding below. “Mmm, don’t leave me.” 

Wiping his lips off on his arm, Seungheol’s brows furrow at your soft request. Had this been what you expected him to do? Fuck you full and leave you alone on the bed? What had you been told about your wedding night? Had anyone explained what a husband should do for his wife after making love to her? Seeing the pout on your lips and the way your brows furrow, Seungcheol decides no one had. 

“I’d rather die than leave you alone. I’m not going to leave you, ever.” Kissing you gently, Seungcheol feels you smile against his lips before he looks back down at you, seeing the hazy look in your eyes. “I am going to run some water in the tub and come back for you.” Gesturing over his shoulder to the bathroom that connects your room to his, he starts to move when you whine his name under your breath. “Baby, I’m not—” 

“I don’t want to. I want—” Your cheeks once again burn from embarrassment as Seungcheol looks down at you with concern in his eyes. Lowering your voice almost as if you are afraid someone outside will hear your confession, you speak through your pouted lips. “I want to get pregnant.” 

Sucking in a deep breath, Seungcheol blows it out slowly to calm himself down. You had been thinking the same thing as him? Shaking his head, he kisses your cheeks and then your lips as you wiggle under him, feeling embarrassed by his extra attention. “Curse the person who taught you anything about your wedding night.” Brushing your hair from your forehead, Seungcheol sighs your name. “If you are meant to get pregnant tonight, it’s already done. You don’t have to keep it inside of you to make it work.” 

You already knew that Seungcheol was right, but the slight doubt and wanting to get what you want make you still pout at him. “I know that… I have read lots of books, but I just—what if it doesn’t? What if laying here for a moment longer makes sure it happens?” 

Swooning over your innocent confessions once again, Seungcheol bites his bottom lip and traces the line of your waist to your hip. “You’ve read a lot of books on reproduction, have you?” Watching you close your eyes and wrinkle your nose in embarrassment, he laughs before kissing the tip of your nose. “You can lie here while I run the bath, but I promise you, even if you aren’t pregnant from tonight, I will put a baby in you if that’s what you want.” 

You watch as Seungcheol slides from the bed, lifting his arms over his head to stretch as if he hadn’t just left you speechless with his new promise. Running your fingers over your stomach, you bite your lip and press your head back against the pillows, hoping and praying you’d give him a son. 

“How does it feel to be married, darling?” 

Smiling at the queen, you lower your eyes and shy away at the question. You had woken up in your bed in Seungcheol’s arms. This was the best you had ever felt, but was that something you should express to your now mother-in-law? Pressing your lips together in thought, you sigh softly and finally work up the courage to speak. “I’m very happy, your majesty.” 

It was easy for the queen to put on a face. She had been doing it for years at this point, so looking at you fondly came easier to her when inside she had far different emotions brewing. You did look happy. It was almost disgusting. 

Returning your sweet smile, the queen leans forward, taking your hand into hers, bringing them both to her lap as you lean towards her. “That is lovely. I’m so pleased. Tell me, Y/N… Was last night fruitful?” 

If you had felt uncomfortable before, it was no match for how you felt after that question. Trying to sit back up in an attempt to feel less small in front of the woman, you grimace when she doesn’t let you move. “I—is that something I should—” 

“Of course it is. I asked you a question, my love. I want an answer.” Sighing softly, she pats your hands and lifts her shoulder as if she is exasperated. “It’s the most important question currently in Tsornoria. You define the future of this kingdom. So now… tell me.” 

You glance around the room for someone—anyone—to help you but the moment you meet their eyes, you either see sympathy or disinterest before they look away. “I—um, yes. Yes, ma’am.” Would that make the queen happy or upset her? One look into her eyes and you still aren’t certain. You see the smile on her lips, but the emotions that should be attached to that seem missing from her vacant eyes. 

“Wonderful…” The word is drawn out, almost stressed, as the queen finally releases your hands and shifts in her seat. “I had no doubt that Seungcheol would take you the first night. He’s—” Smiling at you again, sweetness dripping from her lips like venom, she continues. “Well, Seungcheol is a bit rowdy. But I think you knew that, didn’t you, sweet?” 

Hearing you start to speak, the queen sighs and speaks over you, not allowing any comments. “I do hope you understood that before you said your binding vows. Surely your brother, what is his name? Joshua?” Nodding to answer her own question, she pouts her lips almost sympathetically. “I do hope it takes. Did you visit with the doctor beforehand? You understand, I’m sure, how important a royal heir is.” 

You watch as she gestures to nothing in front of her as if you should understand without question she has more to say. “Though if you don’t get pregnant this time, I’m sure he will try again.” Letting the slightest of a smirk pull at her lips, the queen sighs before meeting your eyes. “And again. But dear—” Taking your hands again, she tilts her head. “If it doesn’t take, that isn’t your fault. It could be entirely Seungcheol’s. You understand, don’t you?” 

Shaking your head, you open your lips only to shut them again when she coos at you. “Of course you don’t. What an angel my son has brought into his life.” She scoffs and cups your cheek, her thumb tracing the bone lightly. “It is surprising with all of my son’s—” This time she manages to barely keep her amusement to herself as she watches your reaction to her words. “Escapades… his whoring. But, of course, a sweet, innocent girl like yourself wouldn’t know a thing about that sort of behavior.” 

“No. Wh—” Not only were you shocked by the queen’s choice of words but also that she was saying them in the first place. Glancing back around the room, you shake your head, placing your palm against your stomach out of nerves. Would she be right? Were you not even able to carry Seungcheol’s children? If you didn’t, was it your fault or—no, you refused to think it’d ever be his fault. 

“Darling, I’m not saying any of this to upset you.” Lies came easy to the queen. She knew how to say exactly the right thing to get the reaction she wanted. The only person seemingly immune to this was Seungcheol, who now glared at her from the doorway. 

“Are you done trying to scare my wife, Mother?” Rolling his eyes, Seungcheol moves to the two of you before offering you his hand. “Even if you aren’t, Y/N is done with this ridiculous conversation…” 

She watches as you stand up, moving against Seungcheol, but her innocent smile never wanes. “I was simply sharing wisdom as a mother to my precious daughter-in-law. Well within not only my rights as family and queen, but also as a woman.” Sniffing back invisible tears, the queen gestures to you before looking even more distraught. “The poor girl lost her mother so very young. She needs someone to guide—” 

“That’s hilarious. A rock could teach more efficiently than you.” Seungcheol was annoyed and his frustration was only rising as his stepmother attempted to play the victim. “Come on, Y/N. I asked your father and brother to join us for lunch.” 

You still had an uncertain look on your face as Seungcheol took your hand, ready to lead you out of the room. What in the hell had just happened? You knew that the relationship between the queen and your husband wasn’t ideal, but that had been toxic. You could almost feel the animosity for the other dripping off of them as Seungcheol’s eyes searched yours and his stepmother scoffed once again. 

“And I’m not invited?” 

“Clearly not. I don’t need you poisoning their minds with your bullsh—” 

“Please stop.” Your voice was quiet, but the anxiety laced in with your words was enough to get Seungcheol to stop speaking. “I— can we just go?” Turning towards the queen, you bow as you try to keep your words steady. “Thank you for your words and advice, your majesty. We will share a meal soon, I promise.” 

Seungcheol wanted to tell you to stop giving his stepmother exactly what she wanted, but you were being level-headed. He didn’t possess that feature anymore when it came to her. Moving out of the room with you, he furrows his brows when you keep your eyes down and away from him. 

This wasn’t how he wanted his first official day with you as his wife to go. He had made plans to spend time with you and your family. Seungcheol fully intended on enjoying a slice of nomacly with you, but then his fucking stepmother had to open her mouth. 

“Baby, I—” 

“It’s fine, Seungcheol. I’m not upset.” 

You were saying one thing, but your face told him another story. Nodding along with your words, Seungcheol’s brows furrow from anxiety. There wasn’t anything either of you could chance about your arrangement now, but he wanted to be a good husband. He wanted that as much as he wanted to be a good king once the title was properly handed to him. All Seungcheol really wanted was to not fail, but today this already felt like a strike on his record. 

“I—I….” Swallowing hard, Seungcheol tugs at your hand as he comes to a stop, willing you to do the same as you stand outside of the dining room where your family was waiting on you. “I’m so sorry. My anger got the better of me. I fear it tends to where my stepmother is involved but I never wanted you to be upset—” 

“Everything is fine, Cheol. I was just surprised. I’m not upset.” 

God, you were too sweet and good for this. You were too good for him. He had always thought so, but now seeing how quickly you try to smooth over the situation, Seungcheol knows it more than ever. “No, I understand, baby. It’s just— I just— I don’t want you to believe the shit she tells you. She’s like a venomous snake. She lurks and waits to see what makes you weak before she strikes.” 

Lifting your free hand to your head, you sigh and press a finger to the center of your brows, feeling a headache taking seed. “Family is very important to me.” When Seungcheol starts to speak and interrupt you, another sigh, this one mildly annoyed, makes him stop. “I can’t begin to understand your relationship with the queen, but I am going to try to stay in her good graces until she gives me reason to otherwise.” 

Though Seungcheol hadn’t heard the entire conversation you had with his stepmother, he had heard enough. She was planting doubt in your mind. She wanted you to look at him differently. The more anxious Seungcheol became with the situation, the more sure you already were. “I understand…” 

You weren’t so sure that Seungcheol did in fact understand, but the terrified look on his face had you softening. Moving your hand to his face, you gently trace his cheekbone before offering him a comforting smile. “Let’s enjoy lunch and our day, okay?” 

It had been two months since you and Seungcheol had said your vows in front of God, family, and kingdom. There was much about the entire scenario that wasn’t going how the queen had planned. You and Seungcheol got along well. She had always found his personality to be disagreeable—childish, yet with you he was doting and reminded the queen so much of her late husband. 

Looking around the mostly empty room, she sighs under her breath, wishing to rid herself of the constant weight of frustration that had taken hold of her. She had gone out of her way to plan this union strategically and yet her piece on the chessboard was dragging his feet. 

“Your Majesty? You asked for me…” 

Joshua had started to learn his way around the palace almost as well as his sister. He knew the secret passages and used them well, but no one knew them better than the queen. She hadn’t been shy about her feelings regarding the marriage or his lack of following through with what he had been asked to do. 

When he had said yes, he had been angry that you were marrying Seungcheol in the first place. Now he fought with himself daily as he watched you brighten with joy around your husband. That didn’t stop the deep-rooted jealousy and anger that he felt towards the man. It was Joshua’s job to keep you safe and happy, yet you looked at Seungcheol like he hung the stars in the sky. It was more than you weren’t going home with him and your father after the coronation; it was more that he felt like he was losing you completely. 

“Yes, close the door. I’ve been wanting to speak with you, Joshua… It’s like you’ve been avoiding me. That makes me sad.” She knew that it was true. Joshua had started actively avoiding her gazes, much less interacting with her in general. He knew she was disappointed that Seungcheol still walked around the palace like he owned it. He didn’t own it—the queen did. 

Closing the door behind him, Joshua swallows hard as his eyes move around the room, noting the lack of servants. Of course she’d want to speak to him where no one could hear what she had to say. “Of course I haven’t. I just—” 

“Didn’t you promise not to lie to me?” Sighing out the words in annoyance, the queen gestures to the chair next to her before lifting her teacup to her lips and taking a sip. “You know exactly what I want to discuss with you. You know I am disappointed.” 

Fighting the urge to scoff at her, Joshua sits, crossing his leg over his knee, watching the woman’s eyes lift to his. “Well, if we are honest, what you asked of me is almost impossible.” 

“It isn’t impossible for someone with the desire to save his dear angelic sister from ruin. Why do you purposely upset me, Joshua?” Watching Joshua’s lips turn down in a frown, she matches it before gesturing towards the teapot on the tray between them. “Drink with me. Tell me what you’ve been told about them. I’ve heard rumors…” 

Joshua sighs as he leans to pour himself tea, listening to the queen. If she had heard rumors, why did he have to tell her the same shit? Shaking his head, he brings the cup to his lips and shrugs. “If you’ve heard them, why do you—” 

“I want to hear them from you. I want to know the truth behind them.” 

Looking down at the teacup resting on his thigh, Joshua’s brows furrow as he nods. Talking to the queen was like stepping inside of a lion’s cage and asking it not to kill you. In Joshua’s case, it was asking that lion not to destroy your family. “Y/N’s maid says my sister might be pregnant. It seems your son didn’t waste time, ma’am…” 

She had heard much the same but hearing Joshua call Seungcheol her son leaves a sour taste in the queen’s mouth. Scoffing, she sets her cup to the side and shakes her head. “What did you expect? He’s a whore. He saw a new port to place his ship and as I’ve been told, they even share a bed. I’m sure he’s defiling your sister nightly; however, I need to know for certain. That could cause me issues.” Meeting Joshua’s eyes, she lifts her brows in question. “Don’t you agree?” 

It wasn’t a question if Joshua agreed. He had never given much thought to what would happen once you were married. He had only wanted to protect you and keep you from a life with a shitty husband—so far he had failed in his eyes. “Don’t talk about her like that. I’m sure she isn’t, but even if she is—” Narrowing his eyes at the queen, Joshua tightens his fist over his knee. “You swore to me she wouldn’t get hurt.” 

“And you swore to me that Choi Seungcheol would die.” 

Joshua had never been a violent person. He had never been a vengeful person, but that all changed the moment Seungcheol took your hand and made you his wife. “He will, I just need more—” 

“The coronation is in a week, Joshua. It’s harder to kill a king.” Shifting forward, she takes his hand, feeling it tighten under her palm as she pouts at him. “I’ll make this easy for you, darling. Take care of this issue, or I will, and I don’t think you’ll like how I take care of it. I don’t forgive those who renege on promises. I’d hate for your dear sweet Y/N to suffer more than she has to.” 

Jerking his hand from hers, Joshua bites his cheek hard to keep himself in line. You were his first and only concern. The queen had never outright threatened you before. He knew that you were going to suffer during this. He had hoped you wouldn’t like Seungcheol as much as you appeared to on first meeting, but sadly you seemed truly in love. It was unfortunate to break your heart, but it was necessary—anything else on the queen’s mind regarding you wasn’t. 

“Don’t fucking threaten her again. I swear—” 

“You swear to do as you were told. You swear to do what you said you would do.” Lifting one brow, the queen turns to her side, opening a small box and taking out a vial. With a soft, exasperated breath, she reaches for Joshua’s hand once more and places it in his palm. “Don’t disappoint me again. I am a merciful woman, but you make it difficult. Find out what I want to know and get this done.” 

It wasn’t uncommon to hear voices inside of the queen’s chambers, but hearing a male’s voice was different. Seungkwan hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the moment that Joshua closes the door behind him, he’s happy he had. Why would he be visiting the queen? It was possible that she had brought him to her bed, but it seemed unlikely and it left a growing pit in Seungkwan’s stomach. 

“I’m sure none of this is interesting to you, darling.” 

The past month had been the best time in Seungcheol’s life. Even now, as you sat on the arm of his chair watching him look through boring meeting notes and financial documents, his chest felt full. Every day had felt like the honeymoon he promised you that the two of you would take once the coronation was over. 

Smiling at Seungcheol’s words, you shrug, sliding one of the papers closer to you so you can read over the minutes for the last meeting he had attended. He had never told you that you couldn’t be part of this and you found yourself not wanting to be more than a foot away from him at any moment if it were possible. “It’s not, but I don’t think it would be interesting to anyone. How did you keep yourself awake for this meeting? They really let your cousin speak for two hours?” 

Being with you was as easy as breathing. You made boring and mundane tasks feel exciting and comforting. Easing you from the arm of the chair and onto his lap, Seungcheol rests his chin on your shoulder as he looks over the same note you were looking at. Wrinkling his nose, he nods and lets out a soft sigh. “I don’t remember even half of what the fuck he said. I’m pretty sure Jeonghan fell asleep.” 

Your laugh was like a spring morning and calmed Seungcheol down better than anything. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he rests his palm on your stomach, feeling you suck in a deep breath. He had heard the rumors as well as anyone else in the palace, but you hadn’t mentioned it to him yet. He could almost sense the look on your face as he placed a kiss on your neck. Your brows would be furrowed, your nose scrunched up as you tried to stay still and silent. You were nervous about something and Seungcheol had a good idea what it was. “You don’t want to talk about it? We don’t have to, my love.” 

Shaking your head, you slide your fingers over Seungcheol’s over your stomach as your heart begins to race. “It’s not—no. I mean, I do, Cheol. I’m just—what if I’m—” 

Reaching up to turn your face towards him slightly. Seungcheol places a kiss next to your lips and shushes you. “There isn’t a time limit. I know you want this as much as I do, but it’s not the only thing I want. I am enjoying just being your husband.” Watching your lips turn up slightly into a smile, he hums happily, kissing your cheek again. “We will be king and queen in a week, baby. That’s enough pressure for now.” 

Knocking once, Joshua looks surprised to see you sitting on Seungcheol’s lap in his office. He was doing a good job of looking apologetic but even as he lowered himself, apologizing for interrupting, he felt pleased he could interrupt the moment. Too often now this is how he found you both. You were so lovesick that it was nauseating and Seungcheol was like a prize cock peacocking around the palace knowing you weren’t far from fawning over him. “I am so sorry. I—I was told that you would be here, your highness, that perhaps I could speak to you but—” 

Seungcheol chuckles as he lets you move from his lap to stand at his side while your brother practically bows to the ground asking for forgiveness. He was trying hard to see past the signs that Joshua actually hated him and see the man that you worshipped. “No harm done, Joshua, and please… I’ve asked you to just call me Seungcheol a dozen times.” 

Joshua didn’t want to offer any pleasantries to the prince, but seeing the adoring look in your eye from one man to the other, he does what he has to in order to see your smile. “Of course, I’m sorry, Seungcheol. It’s such an odd concept that you’re my family now. Almost seems impossible.” 

Leaning to kiss Seungcheol’s cheek, you hum surprised when he turns to kiss you on the lips, sensing what you are doing. “I—I was just going to give you two the room. I’m a distraction anyway.” 

Forcing himself not to outwardly show the disgust he is feeling, Joshua puts on a smile as you and Seungcheol say your goodbyes. It was simple; you had said you were leaving and he should let you go but instead Seungcheol was obviously trying to piss Joshua off. He averted his eyes as your husband kissed you once again, whispering that you were never a distraction before letting you loose. 

When you step around the desk and towards Joshua, Seungcheol pays closer attention. It isn’t lost on him how Joshua’s attitude shifts. It was true that your brother loved his family. You were his pride and joy, but it still didn’t sit well with Seungcheol how fake the man seemed to him only to change his entire personality when directly interacting with you. 

“You look happy today, Y/N.” Pushing your hair behind your ear, Joshua grins when you smile up at him, showing him that he’s right. Despite the reasoning behind your happiness, he was still pleased to see your joy shining through like it was. “I’ll come find you soon, I promise. I just want to speak with your husband. You don’t mind, right?” 

Seungcheol didn’t miss how Joshua’s words influence you. There was really no reason for you to mind, and yet the way Joshua had said it felt like he was forcing you to agree. When you nod quickly, happily looking back to Seungcheol, who offers you a soft smile, he sighs the moment you turn back to your brother. Why did everything that Joshua did feel like a threat? Perhaps Seungcheol was being too guarded and judgmental; after all, you looked at Joshua as if he hung the stars in the sky. How bad could someone be if you loved them that deeply? 

Both men watch you leave the room, pushing the door closed behind you and leaving them alone. For a moment, neither of them speaks until Seungcheol starts to open his mouth, but Joshua makes sure to speak first. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you since the wedding. You just—” Smiling softly, he moves towards the chair in front of Seungcheol’s desk, taking a seat as he sighs out the words. “You’re just always so busy.” 

Joshua wasn’t wrong, and yet Seungcheol couldn’t think of a single moment since the wedding when Joshua had sought him out alone. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I am, but you never need to worry about that. You said it yourself, we’re family. Feel free to come to me about whatever you need anytime.” 

Even as he tries to be nice, Joshua visualizes Seungcheol’s words like poison invading the air around him. He was so fake. The pleasantries were all fake. Still, Joshua keeps the gentle smile on his lips as he nods along. “You are so kind, your highn—Seungcheol. Honestly, that’s why I wanted to visit today. I wanted to see if you would have dinner with me this evening. Like we’ve both said, it’s rare to get a moment alone to truly talk. I’d like to get to know my brother-in-law.” 

Surprised by the invitation, Seungcheol shifts in his seat and offers Joshua a genuine smile. Perhaps he really had judged him too harshly. The man who sat in front of him now—his brother-in-law—seemed more like you than ever before. There was the same soft look in his eyes as he smiled. It seemed so genuine that Seungcheol didn’t even have to consider it for long before he nodded, leaning forward and starting to feel excited about the chance to get closer to your family. “I’d be honored. I can bring us something to drink.” 

“Oh!” Clearing his throat, he waves his hand, dismissing Seungcheol in an attempt to give himself a bit more time to think of the words while also distracting the other man. “No, no. I actually—I have a gift for you. You do like whiskey? That’s what I’ve been told.” 

A bit surprised by the idea of a gift, Seungcheol’s smile fades slightly before he forces it back on his face. Joshua was being kind and thoughtful. He had gone out of his way to learn something about Seungcheol, and now he was gifting it to him. “I do. My drink of choice, though it seems Y/N doesn’t particularly enjoy the smell of it.” 

Waving his hand once more, Joshua shakes his head and sighs into his words. “She’s a gentle girl, but a glass or two couldn’t hurt.” 

You had never been good at horseback riding. Your entire life there are been various lessons that a princess would need to learn, but out of all of them, riding a horse had been your biggest hurdle. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do well and ride alongside your brother as he rode like he’d been born on the back of a horse. It was more that you found yourself nervous sitting on the animal's back as it struggled to listen to the cues you were trying to give. Now you wish you would have tried even harder. 

“Come along, dear…” 

Swallowing hard, you tug the reins to the right, feeling the horse reluctantly do what you want as you follow the queen out of the stables. When she requested you ride with her, it wasn’t like you could just tell her no. It wasn’t as simple as telling the queen and your new mother-in-law that you weren’t good at this. You hated the idea of disappointing this intense woman. 

“Not used to riding?” She was good at acting like she was shocked as your brows creased with anxiety as the horse snorted out of frustration. “I just thought some fresh air would be good for us both. Seungcheol and your brother are busy; now is my time to spend quality time with my new daughter.” 

You had been told by Seungcheol and many of the other friends and staff members that the queen was a viper. You wanted to heed their warnings, and yet how could you snub her? All you wanted was to fit in and be loved by not only Seungcheol but also his mother. Why couldn’t you be the person to ease her out of her shell and show everyone else that she wasn’t as bad as she seemed?

“I’m not very good, I’ll admit.” Offering the queen a small smile, you find yourself grimacing when the horse shakes her head, causing you to feel off balance. “Joshua tried several times to help me learn, but I fear I’m far too clumsy for things like this. It is nice to get fresh air, though. I’m glad you invited me.” 

You made this easy. You were so agreeable that it almost made the queen’s skin crawl. How could someone be so kind and naive? Did you really think she cared that much about you? Why would she care if you got fresh air? Smiling to hide her own thoughts, she glances back at you before slowing her own horse to walk beside you. “I should have done this even before your marriage, Y/N. It’s important to know one another. We are family now.” 

Roasted duck and confit… Of course Seungcheol would go all out for a dinner where he expected to impress someone, but Joshua wasn’t buying into it. It didn’t matter if the food was better than anything he had ever had back at home. It also didn’t matter if Seungcheol was going out of his way to act humble around Joshua. It was clear to him that it was all an act. 

Seungcheol wasn’t sure there had ever been a moment in his life that was as awkward as this dinner with Joshua Hong. It didn’t seem to matter what he said or did; there was always a layer of contempt not only in Joshua’s eyes but also in his tone of voice. “Did— do you— is the food okay? I can ask Seungkwan to get the chef if it's not—” 

“It’s delicious, your highness. Please don’t bother anyone.” Gesturing towards Seungkwan, Joshua shakes his head, putting on his best gentle smile. “In fact, we don’t need anyone to serve us. We could do this all ourselves.” 

Seungkwan could see the gears turning in not only Joshua’s head but also Seungcheol’s. He knew that Seungcheol was an intelligent man, but he was also a kind man. Offering his own smile in return to Joshua’s, Seungkwan too shakes his head and bows slightly. “So kind of you, but I’d hate to feel dismissed and useless. I need to do my job as often as possible or I’ll wither up and simply die.” 

Joshua had already decided that he didn’t like the butler. He was always looming and every attempt to get out of his line of sight had failed; it seemed today wouldn’t be much different. 

“That’s incredibly dramatic, Seungkwan…” 

“And yet you know it’s true.” 

Clearing his throat, Joshua lifts his hands not only to surrender to the idea of Seungkwan staying but also to stop their banter. “It’s fine, really. Should we—I get the whiskey? I hope it's up to your standards.” 

Seungcheol furrows his brows, looking from Joshua to Seungkwan as he reluctantly nods. “I’m sure it exceeds them. You shouldn’t worry so much about that.” Nodding once again as Seungkwan lifts the bottle and starts to pick up two glasses. “We can drink to your good health, Joshua.” 

Following Seungkwan across the room, Joshua shifts a bit uncomfortably in his chair as the man hesitates in pouring a glass for his prince, speaking up once again. “Are you sure you want to drink tonight? You have so many meetings—” 

“I wasn’t aware that a butler could choose if a prince drinks or not.” Joshua’s voice is layered with amusement, but a subtle edge to his voice makes Seungcheol tilt his head as he meets Seungkwan’s eyes. 

It would be rude to refuse the drink. Seungcheol could see the judging look in Joshua’s eyes and he didn’t want to disappoint him. “I’ll drink one glass with him. One couldn’t hurt…” 

“I’ve heard rumors, darling.” 

The ride had been pleasant enough. You had started to figure out how to guide your horse. You were beginning to trust her as much as she trusted you. But when the queen mentions rumors, you feel your heart sink. There was really no way to know what she had heard, but that didn’t help your stomach as it twisted with anxiety. “Oh? I—what? I mean, what rumors have you heard, Your Majesty?” 

Your face told her everything she needed to know, and yet she wanted to hear it out of your mouth. “About your cycle. Is it true you might be carrying our next little royal already?” 

Unsure how to feel about the queen’s wording, you swallow hard and shake your head. “I—I am late, but I have no real idea if I am—” 

“Then we should have the doctor take a look at you, shouldn’t we?” Sighing softly as she guides her horse to walk a bit slower behind yours, she narrows her eyes at you as you bite at your stupidly perfect lips nervously. “You two didn’t waste any time at all, did you?” 

Sliding his own glass towards him, Seungcheol watches as Joshua avoids picking up his own. He tilts his head and furrows his brows, feeling Seungkwan’s eyes move around the room. “You aren’t going to join me?” 

Joshua looks surprised by the question before looking down at the glass in front of him. He knew that Seungkwan was staring at him. The butler didn’t trust him, and that was valid. He could feel his own nervousness starting to sway him, yet he could hear the queen’s voice in his head telling him to not disappoint her. “Oh, no. I rarely drink, your highness.” 

Scoffing as Joshua calls him by his title again, he picks up his glass and takes a large sip, nodding in appreciation as the alcohol runs down his throat. “Seungcheol is fine. I’ve told you that many times.” With a hum, he furrows his brow at how the alcohol lingers in his throat, making his mouth drink as if almost begging him to take another sip. “Thank you—” Clearing his throat, he takes another sip, his brows furrowing further. “Thank you for the gift.” 

“Of course, Seungcheol. It’s the least I can do.” 

Seungkwan had watched from the sidelines for most of the dinner. He didn’t like Joshua. He wanted to, but despite being your brother, there was nothing about him that reminded Seungkwan of you. You were soft and sweet, while Joshua seemed to have an ulterior motive. 

With dessert served, he watched the prince closer, noting how his head seemed heavy. He had finished his glass of whiskey and normally that amount of alcohol would have little to no effect on him, but tonight seemed to be different. There was a soft, confused smile on Seungcheol’s lips as he slurred through his words, letting Joshua carry the conversation. Seungkwan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong but just before he could move closer and ask, the door opening behind him draws all eyes in that direction. 

Your maid was a quiet girl. She felt comfortable around you and your family, but Joshua had never seen her bust into an occupied room unannounced before. Fear runs through him when he sees the tears dripping from her cheeks as she struggles to speak. Standing, he hears his chair on the ground from how quickly he stood. “What is it?” 

Looking from Joshua to Seungcheol, the girl sobs quietly, attempting to get her words out, only to take a step back when Joshua raises his voice. “Y/N…” Shaking her head, she brings her hands to her face to hide her tears as Joshua says her name in question for her to continue. “She fell off her horse, your highness. She’s—” 

“Where is s–she?” Attempting to stand up as quickly as Joshua had, Seungcheol feels his head swim, a gray frame around his vision starting to close in. He hadn’t realized how bad he felt until his blood started pumping quickly out of anxiety. “Te—tell me, please?” 

Taking a step towards the girl, Seungcheol manages to hear your name once more before everything goes black and his body crumbles to the ground next to the table. 

All you remember is being scared and in pain before everything went black. Forcing your eyes open, you whine at the feeling of your body being stiff with some of the worst pain you had felt in your life. You were no longer outside but instead your soft mattress rested under you, causing you to feel even more confused. 

Sliding your hand along the mattress, you search for the warmth and safety of your husband only to feel his side of the bed cold. It takes you a few moments to sit up. Every movement feels like it takes the last bit of effort you have in you. Moving your eyes around the room, you frown, finding it as empty as you are beginning to feel. 

Did Seungcheol not know you were hurt? Why were you hurt? You could remember riding in front of the queen on your horse. You could sense the tension in the air before your face had met the dirt and pain spread through your body. 

How long had you been in this bed? Your legs felt numb and the bed felt increasingly uncomfortable the more you sat on it. Working your legs from under the covers, you whine under your breath as you will your body to work. With one hand on your stomach and the other holding the bedpost, you hoist yourself up as another frown spreads across your lips. 

You felt wet and sticky. Turning back towards the bed, you feel your heart drop into your stomach as you look at the red that was staining the sheets under your body. The feeling of emptiness spreads along every cell in your body as you feel yourself starting to collapse, only for a soft voice and a gentle touch to bring you back to the moment. 

Tears run down your cheeks to your neck as you meet the eyes of your maid. At least she was here. There was hope left in you that she could explain everything even as she avoided your gaze. 

“You should sit down, your highness. I need to change your bedding again.” 

Again? You question yourself again on how long you had been in that bed. Now you were wondering how many times you had bled through like that. You let her guide you to the stool at the end of your bed before you shake your head and give in to the main question on your mind. “Where is Seungcheol?” 

Starting to speak and stopping, the girl shakes her head, leaving you safely sitting as she starts to hurriedly tug at your bedding. There was something wrong. Everything was wrong. Looking back towards the bathroom that connects your door to Seungcheol’s room, you wince in pain as you force yourself back up, only for another voice to stop you in your tracks. 

“Y/N, sit.” 

Joshua didn’t look like himself. He was diminished somehow. He was a ghost of the man you had grown up with. The exhausted look in his eye told you he had been with you day and night for however long it had been. The blood on your bed made his stomach twist with pain that showed clearly on his face before he met your expectant eyes. 

“Let her change your bed and your gown so you can get more rest.” 

You didn’t want more rest. You wanted Seungcheol. If anyone wanted you to rest, you could do it better in your husband’s arms. “I want— Shua, where is Cheol?” 

Joshua’s eyes follow the path to your bathroom before he sighs your name. He knew something and he didn’t want to tell you. What the hell had happened to turn your world on its head? You were terrified not only for yourself and the possibility of your baby but now also for your husband. Starting to slide off the stool, you stop when Joshua hurries forward to take your hand, whispering your name. 

“There’s—Y/N, please? There’s something I have to tell you.” This was worse than lying to you. Joshua always struggled with that from the moment he had seen you lying in your crib and today was no different. He could only see his fragile little sister that was looking at him for answers when he was only going to deliver horror. “Seungcheol is in his room, yes, but he’s asleep.” 

Tugging your hand from Joshua’s, you whine his name when he manages to keep you in place standing in front of him. “I want to see him. I need him.” 

You were so stubborn and in love that it made it even more difficult for Joshua. Regret and anxiety rip through him as he tugs you by your wrist and forces you to meet his eyes. “Stop! He isn’t who I need to talk to you about! Y/N, I—your accident.” 

Shaking your head, obvious confusion written on your face, you search his eyes and feel the pit in your stomach grow when he does finally speak. His words seem warbled and tangled in your ears as the light in the room grows darker. 

“I’m so sorry. I—the doctor said you weren’t far along but—” 

You don’t need to or get the chance to hear what you already know to be true as you collapse, the world spiraling out of control as Joshua struggles to catch you before you hit the ground.

Closing your fingers around those holding yours, you let out a soft sigh of relief. It was all a dream. You felt stiff and in pain, but that could just be how you slept last night. It had been a horrible dream. You could almost feel your heart trying to break as you continued to convince yourself that none of it was true. 

If it had been a dream, Seungcheol was holding your hand. He would be in bed with you and he would hold you close, telling you that everything was okay. You could imagine him resting his palm over your stomach as you both hoped for the good health of the child you hoped was growing inside of you—and yet your imagination wasn’t enough. Furrowing your brows, you open your eyes and instead of finding Seungcheol or even Joshua at your bedside, you meet the eyes of the queen. 

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Cooing sympathetically, she lifts her hand from yours to push your hair from your forehead as she offers you a gentle smile. “I’m so sorry. You must be so confused. Are you hurting, dear? I can get the doctor for more medicine.” 

Instead of waiting for you to answer, she sighs your name and tucks your hair behind your ear, watching you like you are made of fragile glass that she keeps tapping at. “I’m sorry all this happened. The amount of pressure you must be under.” Tsking right away, she hushes you before you even open your mouth. “Never mind it. Perhaps… if—well, if all works out, you can try again.”  

Try again. It wasn’t a bad dream. It was very real and as she kept tapping at the glass, her fingers smoothing your hair, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks, but the queen is quick to wipe them away, once again shushing you. “There, there, dear. Life can be cruel, but you are still so very young. You have—” 

“Where is Seungcheol?” 

Her mouth still open when you interrupt her with that question, the queen falters for a split second. Her lips turn up into a bit of a smile before she forces herself to furrow her brows and coo at you in sympathy once again. Looking towards the connecting doors of the bathroom, she shakes her head as she sniffs back tears that haven’t even begun to collect in her eyes. “Y/N… I—this is so terribly difficult to say. I—perhaps it was the shock of loss and the potential that he might lose you too, but—” Instead of finishing her sentence, the queen just sniffs once again and looks down at her hands. 

What did that mean? What was she trying to tell you and why wouldn’t she just say it? The unspoken words only leave room for your imagination to sour and for your anxiety to grow. Sitting up, you are pushed back down by the queen as she wipes tears with her free hand from her dry cheeks. 

“Darling, you need to understand. There is so much about my son that you don’t know.” Sighing into her words, the queen meets your eyes with faux remorse in her eyes as she speaks. “He was always such a sickly child. His father called in world-renowned doctors and we hoped… we prayed that he would grow up strong, but hopes and prayers only get you so far. They can’t figure out why he won’t wake.”

Nothing she was saying made sense and fear was flowing through your veins. Pushing past the queen, you stumble towards the doors, pulling them open, not caring if she was following you as you stumbled forward. It’s when you see Seungcheol lying in the center of his own bed, his eyes closed and his skin pale, that you force your legs to keep you up until you are sitting on his bed next to him. 

Tears drip from your cheeks onto his skin as you lean over him. This had to be a cruel joke. You weren’t sure how you’d forgive those who played this trick on you—yet as you shook Seungcheol’s arm and sobbed his name, it no longer felt like a joke. Watching his head slump to the side, you feel like you can't catch your breath. You can hear someone else in the room with you, but you don’t look at the queen. Instead, you lift a shaky hand to adjust your husband’s head on his pillow before resting your cheek against his chest, listening to his heart slowly beating. 

Watching you carefully, the queen crosses her arms loosely over her stomach and doesn’t hide her smirk. You weren’t paying attention to her anymore and why shouldn’t she enjoy this moment? After a few moments of listening to you pathetically cry over her stepson, she finally moves closer to the bed and puts a devastated look on her face before drawing your attention to her. “I—darling, I tried to warn you.” Offering her hand to you, she pouts at you and tilts her head. “Let me put you back to bed. You still need to recover yourself and Seungcheol… well, he’s not able to help anyone.” 

Shaking your head, you crawl, pull your legs up on the bed and lay close against Seungcheol as tears soak through his shirt to his shoulder. “I’d rather die than leave him. I’m not going anywhere.”

The queen softly breathes out to cover an amused sound as she watches you curl up next to the meek man in front of her. Lifting her hands, she nods and takes a step back. “As you wish, Y/N.” 

It had been two days since you had moved into Seungcheol’s room and two more days of watching your husband sleep. There were times when you felt more hopeful than others that he would wake up and come back to you, then those hopes were dashed when the doctor would fear for how weak his vitals were. 

Today was one of the days when you were starting to lose hope. You’d never say it aloud, but as you sat next to him watching Seungkwan prepare him for a sponge bath, you felt your heart twist with pain. Seungcheol was a strong and proud man but now he was having to be bathed in his bed by his butler. 

Reaching for one of the washcloths, you sniff back your tears as you move to sit next to Seungcheol, running the wet cloth over his shoulder and down his arm. Seungkwan had told you he could do this alone, that perhaps that would be better, but you insisted, saying doing anything for your husband wasn’t straining yourself—it was your duty. 

“Careful, your highness. You are still so weak yourself. I don’t want you to—” 

Lifting your eyes to glare at the butler, you quickly soften your eyes and shake your head apologetically when he stops speaking. “I’m sorry, Seungkwan. I—I don’t mean to—” 

“You just want to help. It’s okay. Just— can you let me lift the prince? He’d kill me if you got hurt like this.” 

You nod, tears on your cheeks as you lean back enough to let Seungkwan do his best to sit Seungcheol forward so you can wash off his back. It had only been a few days but you could already see how his body was declining. His body seemed less toned as he lost weight from only being fed by the doctor. His skin had gone from just pale to an unnatural color, especially where he rested on the bed. 

“We have to turn him more often, Seungkwan.” Sniffing back your tears as you try to speak, you lick the tears from your lips as you wring out the towel, letting him lay Seungcheol back on the bed so you can wash his chest. 

“I—yes.” At this point, Seungkwan wasn’t sure what part of this situation was more painful. Was it watching his best friend and prince fade away or was it watching you fade in your own way? While Seungkwan was an intelligent man, he was also emotional. He had spent time while you slept out of exhaustion, sitting by the bedside watching over you and Seungcheol both. He had gone back and forth on what he thought was true and what he should let you know. Knowledge could be a weapon, but it could also wound you. 

That thought rolled through his mind now as he watched your tears drip from your face onto Seungcheol’s skin only for you to quickly wash them away with your washcloth. Lowering his voice, Seungkwan shifts closer to you both on the bed as he washes Seungcheol’s other arm so that if anyone were to come in, they wouldn’t know what he was actually doing. “I have to—Y/N… you have to know the truth.” 

Meeting his eyes, confused, you start to sit back and question him when Seungkwan tells you to keep doing what you were doing. 

“There are eyes and ears all over this palace. Not all of them are kind. Do you understand?” Seungkwan waits to see you nod and the acknowledgment to pass over your eyes before he continues. “I don’t believe this is some mysterious, incurable illness.” 

You didn’t want to believe it either. It made sense to you that Seungkwan wouldn’t want to either. “I know you don’t. I—I don’t want that to be the case either, but nothing is working. Seungkwan and the queen said that when Cheol was a boy—” 

“He was never sick, Y/N. No more than a cold. You may not have known him well or seen him often, but think of the times you did.” Sighing out in frustration, Seungkwan dips the cloth into the water bowl and wrings it out almost angrily. “There’s more. I don’t—listen, I don’t want to say this because if I am wrong—” 

“Just say it.” You were done with people going around in circles and not wanting to tell you things. Seungkwan had started this conversation and you were going to get to the end of it. 

Avoiding your eyes at first, fear of hurting you inching through him, Seungkwan swallows hard and nods. “Before your accident, the prince was having dinner with your brother.” This wasn’t anything you didn’t already know, but Seungkwan could still see the gears working in your brain as he went on. “He gifted Seungcheol a bottle of whiskey. I don’t want to assume, but it was after the prince had a glass of that whiskey that he went down.” 

You could hear your blood pumping in your ears as you tried to focus on Seungkwan’s words and what they might mean. 

“I hate the idea of what I’m even suggesting; however, every time I have tried to speak to Seungcheol’s doctor alone, the queen stops me before I can ask him.” 

Shaking your head, you swallow hard, feeling like you are choking on dry air. Your brows furrow as you finally meet Seungkwan’s eyes, seeing the fear in them. “Ask him what?” 

“I—” Leaning his head back, Seungkwan tries to picture Seungcheol happy and healthy on his wedding day before all of this happened, but your voice brings him back, urging him to say what he dreaded saying. “I want to ask him if the prince was poisoned. If maybe something was in that whiskey, that is what is killing him.” 

The idea of your brother being the cause of your husband lying almost lifeless in front of you makes you feel like laughing at first. There was no way in hell he would do something like this. Joshua was a sweet and gentle man—and yet, as much as you deny it, everything else that has caused you to doubt your brother lately pours back into your mind. You picture him disagreeing with your marriage. You can hear him begging you to just come back home with him at your bedside as you recovered, before finally you realize he’s stopped coming by to check on you once you moved into Seungcheol’s room. 

“She blocks me every time. I think if I could speak with him, he’d have a moral obligation to tell me the truth. Perhaps if this is what’s wrong with Seungcheol, we can do something to counteract it and wake him up. I just need to get past the queen and into his office.” 

Dropping your washcloth back into the bowl, you look at Seungcheol’s face and the lack of any expression on it. You had prayed for a sign of him waking up or even recognizing you were by his side, and yet he wasn’t able to give you anything. Seungkwan’s suspicions begin to make more and more sense until finally you feel something snap inside of you as you meet his eyes once more. “She won’t stop me. I can promise you that.”

The hallway leading to the office that the doctor was using was just as Seungkwan had said. There was no reason for so many staff members to be lingering around it, and yet you had seen at least a dozen people on your walk from Seungcheol’s room to where you stood now. 

You watch as you stay hidden from sight as Seungkwan does exactly as you had told him to do. Confidently he starts to walk towards the doctor's office door, only for two men you had thought worked in the kitchen to come forward and escort him back in the other direction. With the men’s voices disappearing down the hall as Seungkwan argued loudly with them, you moved towards the door and slipped in without so much as a knock or word to find the man you wanted to see sitting behind the large desk. 

Standing quickly, the doctor looks shocked and confused before you smile at him, closing the door behind you. “I apologize for interrupting you, Doctor Hwang. I’m Y/N—” 

“I know who you are.” Swallowing hard, he smoothes his shirt over his stomach before gesturing towards you. “I’ve meant to come see you and offer my condolences and apologies. I truly did everything I could to save your pregnancy, your highness, but with nature of your accident—” 

“That’s not why I’m here, but I don’t blame you for any of that, Doctor. I wanted to—” 

Anxiety causes Doctor Hwang’s heart to beat a bit harder as he once again interrupts you. He wasn’t sure why you were here, but it couldn’t be anything that would benefit him. “Could I have someone escort you back to your room? You are still recovering and I wouldn’t want you to fall from weakness.” 

Smiling at the man, you shake your head, moving closer to his desk, watching him tense up. You had expected him to try to do this. Almost everyone did the same thing. You were weak and unable to take care of yourself in their eyes, but in the doctor's eyes you saw something else—fear. “No, thank you. I actually—well, I need to ask you something about my husband’s condition.” 

His eyes moving from you to the door behind you, the doctor shakes his head and lifts his hands as if showing he has nothing to hide, though they tremble. “I couldn’t really discuss—” 

“You see, Doctor Hwang, I’m just curious if you know of something that could cause him to sleep and not wake up. Perhaps something that was given to him.” 

Forcing a laugh, the doctor shakes his head once again and turns his attention to the desk in front of him. “I wouldn’t be able to discuss his health with you, your highness. The queen has given me very specific instructions.” 

Those words were more telling than you expected. Moving closer to the desk, you watch as he becomes more flustered, stumbling over your words as he once again suggests you go back to your bed. “Did someone poison my husband?” 

Your questions cause the doctor to stop stumbling and to freeze altogether for a moment as his brain processes what to say next. Lifting his hands once again, he scoffs on a breath before trying to stand his ground as your fingers trail over the top of his desk. “As you know, the prince was constantly sick as a child and it appears that his condition has—” 

You had never been a violent or assertive person, but hearing another lie had you not only surprising yourself but also the man in front of you as you held the letter opener to his neck. You had felt the metal under your fingers and now you held the handle tightly as you pressed the sharp tip to the doctor's throat. “If you lie to me one more time… I’ll put this through you. I won’t stand by and let him die.” 

Begging under his breath, Doctor Hwang presses his back against the wall as he feels the tip of the letter opener press harder against his neck. All the threats from the queen race through his mind until you say his name and he knocks his head back against the wall. “Nightshade, your highness. I’m sorry… Please, please don’t do this. I can fix it.” 

Holding the bottle tightly in her hand, the queen sighs as she opens the door to Seungcheol’s bedroom. She hadn’t visited him in two days. She had given him enough nightshade to keep him out of her way. It was a week until the coronation and there were already plenty of rumors spreading about the palace and kingdom that their would-be king might be dead before the week was out. 

She had been smart. Just enough nightshade to keep him comatose, though the urge to give him a higher dose or use a pillow to put him and her out of their misery always lingered at the forefront of the queen’s mind. So when she walked into his room expecting to find Seungcheol exactly as she had left him, she was shocked to see him awake and sitting back against the headrest. 

“S–Seungcheol, you woke up.” She attempted to sound pleased as she put her hand behind her back, clutching the nightshade so hard it felt like the glass might shatter in her palm. 

Sighing softly, Seungcheol nods. He was still weak and trying to wrap his mind around everything that had happened not only to him but to you. Lifting his eyes to meet his stepmother’s, Seungcheol lifts his brow and fights the urge to scoff at the look on the queen’s face. She was pretending to be happy, but he could see the hate in her eyes. “Thanks to Y/N, yes, I’m finally awake.” 

He watches how she gawks at him, struggling to speak. His stepmother only manages to get out a few questioning words before Seungcheol manages to get out of the bed, leaning on the furniture as he walks towards her. “Stop playing dumb. I know this was you.” Even as she shakes her head and tries to talk her way out of it, her own face betrays her. “You did something to Y/N too. That’s worse than trying to kill me. I should have you hung…” 

At the threat of death, the queen stops trying to explain herself and scoffs. “You aren’t King—” 

“Not yet, but in a week I will take care of this. I’ll make sure—” 

With one shove towards the end of the bed by the queen, Seungcheol falls backwards as she laughs under her breath. “You should rest, my son. Your overactive imagination is getting the better of you. As if I would ever do a thing to harm you.” Only watching as Seungcheol struggles to sit up on his elbows, sweat collecting on his forehead and chest from how much effort it is taking to keep himself up, she clings to the bottle at her side and narrows her eyes. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve pictured smothering you in your sleep more times than I can count but…” Sighing into her words as if she’s a martyr, the queen tilts her head to the side. “I’m a mother. I couldn’t hurt my child.” 

Laughing into a scoff, Seungcheol glares at his stepmother as he repeats the word mother. The word leaves a sour taste in his mouth and makes his stomach twist violently. “You’ve never been a mother a day in your fucking life.” Nudging his head towards the door, he clenches his fist at his side, feeling his blood boil as she stares at him. “Get the hell out of my room.” 

Joshua knew that Seungcheol had woken up. Deep down he was pleased with that and yet it terrified him. What if Seungcheol figured out it was him that had been the hand for poisoning him? Yes, he had done exactly as he was told, but that couldn’t save him if Seungcheol declared he had committed treason while staying in the palace. 

Walking towards the queen’s chambers, Joshua could feel his heart in his throat. Each and every time he had been summoned by her, something horrible had followed, but this time it was different. He was no longer her tool. She had lost that opportunity when he found out what actually happened the day of your accident. 

Raising her head towards the door at the knock, the queen narrows her eyes at the door before speaking. “Come in, Joshua…” What she expected was to see remorse in Joshua’s eyes. It had been his job to help her permanently silence Seungcheol and yet now her stepson was up walking about the palace as if he owned it. “Sit down.” 

Not looking away from the woman’s eyes, Joshua moves to stand in front of her instead of sitting as he was told. He wasn’t much in the mood to play with her anymore. He wasn’t intending on being her little puppet anymore. “You summoned me?” 

Scoffing at her words, the queen moves to stand only to be shocked when Joshua moves forward quickly, wrapping his hand around her throat and pushing her back into her chair. “This is the last—” 

“I could have your head on a spike for this treason, Joshua Hong!” 

Glaring at the queen, Joshua squeezes her neck harder until she gasps for a breath. “I’m done playing your game. You know what I should do?” With a tilt of his head to look from her terrified eyes to his hand tight around her neck, Joshua feels a rush of adrenaline go through him. “I should go find your son and my sister and tell them the truth.” 

Nails claw at Joshua’s shirt and hand as the queen tries to get his hand from her. She speaks between strangled breaths, trying to plead with him not only to let her go but also to consider the damage he could cause. “That would ru—ruin your sister. She—she would hate you!” 

Lifting her slightly, he growls under his breath, knowing what she was saying might be true but it didn’t matter anymore. “YOU said you wouldn’t hurt her. You promised me!” Hearing her try to say she didn’t, Joshua growls out his words in anger. “Fucking liar! Her maid says it happened. You bitch. You had someone scare her horse! You watched my sister get bucked off that horse and land on her stomach and you didn’t do ANYTHING!” 

Pushing Joshua back as she kicks at his shins, the queen takes a deep breath and puts her own hand to her throat, feeling her heart in her neck. Her voice is strained but how furious she is is apparent as she glares at Joshua. “Grow up! Do you seriously think you can keep that little bitch safe? You let Seungcheol continue to breathe, you idiot!” 

Finding his strength, Joshua moves back to his full height and shoves the queen towards her chair again, causing her to fall and reach for the table to keep standing. “I’m done! I’m not listening to your bullshit anymore. I’m going to tell Y/N and I don’t care if she hates me, as long as you get what is coming to you.” Turning towards the door, Joshua stretches his neck from one side to the other, releasing the tension. He takes the first step in the direction that would take him to you only for a searing pain to spread from his head down to his neck before everything goes dark. 

As she watches Joshua crumble to the ground, the queen drops the rest of the lamp from her hand while watching blood begin to pool around his head on her rug. She would need to have that cleaned but with any luck someone wouldn’t wake up this time. 

There was a big difference in how Joshua looked while sleeping compared to Seungcheol. You had never seen as much as a furrowed brow the entire time Seungcheol was unconscious, but from the moment you sat down at Joshua’s bedside, he had not stopped scowling in his sleep. He looked furious and as if he were going to sit up at any moment to tell you how he had fallen—and yet he had been like this for two days. 

You knew what the story of his fall was, but just like everything that had happened with Seungcheol and your own accident, you felt like it was a lie. Suspicion was eating you from the inside out as you looked at the bandage around your brother's head that was showing where blood had already seeped through at his stitches. 

Watching from the doorway, Seungcheol’s brows furrow not only out of frustration but also out of concern for you. There had been nothing wrong with your life until you had moved here and married him. He was already having a hard time not blaming himself for everything, but then a voice would whisper the queen’s name and he found someone else easier to hate than himself. 

You were still so fragile and innocent, yet you were having to deal with everything that would scar you all at once. Not only had you thought that you had lost him, but you were still dealing with pain from your own fall and the pain from the miscarriage was the deepest wound. Now you were having to sit by the bedside of your big brother, hoping he would wake up just like your husband. 

Seungcheol’s eyes moved from you to Joshua as the man breathed steadily. It was hard for Seungcheol to look at him and not feel a bit angry. Seungkwan had told him about the whiskey and the nightshade, but no matter how much he wanted to hate Joshua and blame him, he knew he wasn’t the one behind this. Deep in his heart, Seungcheol knew this was all the queen. 

Wiping tears from your cheeks, you whine your brother’s name and lay your head down on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. You had done this so many times with Seungcheol as you begged him to wake up, but now you were begging Joshua to do the same. “Please, Shua… I can’t do this without you. I love you so much.” 

Fingers tighten around yours and you sob a bit harder against Joshua’s chest as he sighs in his sleep. 

“You aren’t ready for this.” He was ignore her and the queen was feeling her annoyance taking hold of her in ways she had never before. “Postpone it, Seungcheol. Everyone would understand. Besides, do you really want to go before the kingdom and let them put a crown on a weak king?!” 

So far she had been lucky. Joshua had unfortunately woken up, but he slept often. She had doubts he had much time to say anything to you, much less Seungcheol, and yet her stepson was outright ignoring her as he left the room to get dressed for his coronation. 

Her chest was tight with anxiety and desperation. If Seungcheol managed to be crowned king today, he would keep his promises to her if Joshua had told him what he knew. That couldn’t happen. She’d rather die than deal with those consequences, and so the queen found herself inside the doctor’s office, her eyes scanning his shelves. 

She knew exactly what she was looking for but the way her heart was beating into her throat, it took her twice as long to find the labels. Swiping two bottles from the shelf, she turns back to the door only to meet Seungcheol’s eyes as he blocks the entrance from her. “Weren’t you getting ready, darling?” Lifting one bottle, she smiles as sweetly as possible and shrugs. “Something for my nerves. It’s a big day.” 

Without speaking a word, Seungcheol turns to the side and looks down at the ground as two of his guards step past him and towards the queen. He listens to her complaints and how she claims treason before backing herself into the wall. 

“Wait…” Seungcheol’s voice brings the men to a stop as they guide the woman through the doors past him. He meets her eyes with his own sad ones before prying the two bottles from her hands, reading the labels under his breath. “Nightshade and wolfsbane.” Nodding, he takes a step back and grits his teeth as his stepmother starts to beg him for mercy. 

“Please! Seungcheol, I’m your mother, you know I—” Her words die on her tongue as the guards force her around the corner and she meets your eyes and then those of Joshua as he glares up at her from his wheelchair. “I—” 

“Take her away.” 

You had spoken those words and for some reason they stung more than if Seungcheol had said them. Trying to look back at you as she’s forced down the hall, the queen whines your name only to watch you look back towards Seungcheol as he stares at her from the doorway. 

Seungcheol enjoyed the way the light came through his office window. This used to be his father’s office but when he had passed away, it went unused. Seungcheol’s stepmother kept it locked and away from him, but now it was his. All the memories of his father were his. 

Muttering under his breath as his eyes scan over the newspaper in front of him, Seungcheol smiles when the article mentions you at the coronation. He knew that it was more about him; that was the unfortunate truth of any coronation, that it would focus on the king, but he had focused on you the entire time. 

Just as the article described, Seungcheol remembered you in your gown and the proud look on your face as he was anointed and named king of Tsornoria and protector of the kingdom. He could still see the smile on your face as you were named queen and he had to hold in his tears from how proud he had been. 

His smile only fades when the article then mentions the absence of the queen mother. Folding the paper, Seungcheol sighs as he pushes it away and moves to his feet. There was a good reason she was absent and yet he didn’t have the guts or the heart to let the public know. 

With each step down the hallway, he felt his heart get heavier as he got closer and took the key from his jacket. It had been six months since he had placed his stepmother in this room behind lock and key, and yet he knew what to expect. 

The queen mother had stopped speaking to him the moment he told her she would live out her days in this room. He could have done worse. She had committed horrible acts and treason, yet instead of having her killed or placed in a dungeon cell, Seungcheol had confined her to a bedroom with barred windows. She had every comfort she would need and yet the woman looked as if she were being starved to death with a grim look on her face while she sat by the window day after day. 

“You shouldn’t be the one who looks so disappointed about being in a room alone. You don’t deserve that, you know?” Again she only scoffs at him and crosses her arms tighter across her chest. “You need to eat. You’re only hurting yourself by refusing the meals… Do you want something different?” 

Looking from the plate near her on a table, his stepmother turns to glare at Seungcheol to answer his question. He knew exactly what she wanted. Death was better than this. Death was better than hearing your soft laugh echoing through the palace or, worse, Seungcheol’s happiness radiating through the walls. He looked like a king now. He looked like his father. 

Feeling her stomach twist with disgust, she turns up her nose and turns back towards the window, muttering under her breath. “I want you to die. That’s all I’ll ever want.” 

A sigh escapes Seungcheol’s lips as he looks down at his hands and leans against the doorframe. “I know, Mother. Sorry to disappoint you again.” 

You hated when Seungcheol chose to check on his stepmother. While you had mixed feelings about her luxurious prison cell, you reminded yourself that it was best for your husband. It was easier for him to know he hadn’t hurt her as much as she had hurt him. He chose to turn his pain and anger into something else and you were already proud of him as not only your husband but also as king. 

Lifting your eyes to his when he leaves the room, you smile, causing him to do the same, though it is sad. You lift at your toes to press a kiss to Seungcheol’s lips, feeling his hands rest on your hips. The kiss is gentle and simple, yet it says everything you wish you could, bringing out a real smile from him as he nods. You had said it enough. This wasn’t his fault. He knew you were right. Moving Seungcheol’s hand with your own, you press it to your stomach, causing the smile to brighten with the meaning. 

“How is my little prince today?” 

You smile and laugh softly before sliding your hand into his, letting him guide you back down the hall and away from his pain locked behind a door. “It’s only a few weeks old, Cheol. There’s no way to know—” 

“I know, baby. Little prince or princess, it will be perfect. How could it not when you are its momma?”

Warmth washes over you as you lean your head against your husband’s arm. He was so good at making you feel like you were the most important person in the world and today was no different. With a happy sigh, you glance up at Seungcheol and meet his smile. That was the smile you would fight and die for if needed. That was your world. 

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[mylovesstuffs]

The Admirer Was Right in Front of You — Kim Mingyu

Mingyu’s been in love with you forever but you’ve never seen him that way, or so he thinks. So he writes you anonymous letters, sends gifts, leaves clues—seven days of hope that you’ll catch on without him spelling it out for you. But every time you get close, you guess everyone but him. 

Genre: Non-idol au, college au, romance (?), comedy, modern au (no specific setting, but contemporary vibe), slice of life and light-hearted mystery 

Pairing: Mingyu × fem!reader

Content: Secret admirer, friends-to-lovers, slow burn (?), miscommunication, amnesia (in terms of realization—reader doesn’t realize Mingyu’s feelings), investigative humor, gift-giving (anonymous), letters (anonymous), silly investigation, mingyu’s subtle hints, light drama (misunderstandings and comedy), emotionally constipated Mingyu, orange juice, lavender, hidden camera, fake love ringtone trauma, laughter and fun with friends (Jeonghan, Soonyoung, Woozi, Seungkwan, Vernon and Dino), dramatic!seungkwan, over-invested! soonyoung, smug!jeonghan, unspoken yearning, heart-thumping hugs,  romantic confession.

Warnings: None for explicit content, just mild comedic frustration and tension related to the investigation. potential light anxiety (reader overanalyzes and stresses about figuring out the admirer), occasional bout of existential romantic confusion.

Word count: 20,620 words

A/N: HIT TEXT BLOCK LIMIT SO EXCUSE ME. this was my rushed valentine’s day fic; written in a fog of sleep deprivation and caffeine, desperately trying to meet the deadline [14th Feb] before tumblr decided to glitch its entire draft-saving system into oblivion. to this day, it still won’t let me fix it [dear tumblr devs: once i get my degree, i’m coming for your job. and then i’m resigning on the spot after fixing my own problem ☺️] if wanted to post this,, life, exhaustion, and tumblr’s war crimes said no because to post it, i would've had to sit down and format it from scratch for HOURS because drafts wouldn't worl. it took me until few weeks into the issue [Feb] to realize i could cheat the system with scheduled posts [which is still a cursed gamble when you're handling 3k+ words]. i reread this recently and cringed so hard i nearly vaporized. this is so metallic and roboticthis… it truly contains all the side effects of first-draft. but at the time, i gave this thing my everything. sleep was sacrificed. blood, sweat, and tears [real] were involved. i was running on loneliness too. this may be posting now, but like I said earlier, it was written a long time ago. the fics that will come after this are recent. so, they’re better and you’ll see the difference. i’m not the same writer anymore, and that’s something i’m low-key proud of bc i see improvements lolllll. massive, massive thanks to K @cheers-to-you-th Calli @hhaechansmoless and Tiya @gyubakeries for resurrecting this from the grave; you three deserve hazard pay for beta-reading this without losing braincells. also to Kae @studioeisa, who was quite literally the only person i spoke to while writing this. thank you for letting me talk  about this fic’s summary

inspired by the golden age of secret admirer tropes and that one friend who’s always been right in front of you, but you were too blind to believe it could be him. much love to GoSe for fueling Seungkwan and Soonyoung’s idiocy. also, Jeonghan’s smirk deserves a credits roll

to the readers: you deserve better than this first draft. but thank you for reading it anyway ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ

You’re not expecting a package when you step outside your apartment door.

You're not expecting an online order—maybe the overpriced serum you panic-bought at 2 a.m. last week because TikTok convinced you your skincare routine was trash, but instead, there’s a neatly wrapped gift box on your doormat, and right on top of it, an envelope with your name on it.

Your first mistake is thinking this is a normal day. Your second mistake is opening the letter in front of your friends.

-

It was a normal afternoon at the café in your usual spot, where the group had gathered to do absolutely nothing productive as per tradition. You had just settled into your seat, wedging yourself between Mingyu and Soonyoung, when Seungkwan gasped.

"Oh my God, is that a love letter?"

Seungkwan’s voice was loud enough to startle the students at the next table. The café, previously humming with the background noise of clinking cups and conversations, now suddenly goes dead silent, at least, in your world, because now everyone is looking at you.

"It could be anything," you say, though the neatly written name on the envelope suggests otherwise.

"No, no, no," Soonyoung cuts in, already reaching for the letter. "We have to open this together. For the sake of the investigation."

"What investigation?"

"The one where we figure out who is in love with you, obviously."

Before you can argue, Jeonghan, sitting across from you, gestures toward the envelope. "Just open it. If you drop dead from embarrassment, at least we’ll have entertainment."

That’s all the permission Seungkwan needs before he grabs it, clearing his throat before reading aloud. "Dear Y/N," he read aloud in an exaggerated, sappy voice. " It feels a little cliché to start with Dear, but here we are. I don’t know if this is the best way to do this, but I guess I’m doing it anyway. The first time I met you, I thought the world had shifted just a little. You probably don’t remember, but I do. And I think… I always will. I see you. I see the way you get that little crease between your brows when you’re focused. The way you fight back a smile when you think something’s funny but pretend it isn’t. The way you give your things to people without thinking twice – your food, your jacket, your time. I see you, and I hope just this once you see me too.

P.S. You’re really bad at locking your phone screen. I already know your new favorite flower.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

"WHAT?!"

"NO WAY."

"Wait, wait, WAIT—who sent this?!"

Mingyu chokes on his drink. "Huh?"

You yanked the letter back, heart hammering. 

Jeonghan, lounging across from you, smirked. "Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer."

Seungkwan is already on his feet, "You have a secret admirer?! I—this is—what—WHO?!" And adds, "How come I don’t get secret admirers?!"

"Maybe because you announce every five minutes that you’re single and desperate." Jihoon deadpans.

"That is NOT—okay, but that’s beside the point!" Seungkwan huffed before rounding on you. "Who do you think it is?"

That was the question, wasn’t it? Your fingers traced the ink absently, brow furrowing. You wonder: Who, among them, is listening just a little too carefully? You steal a glance at your friends, Jeonghan is still smirking. Vernon and Chan are whispering to each other. Jihoon looks entirely uninterested, already focusing on his phone. Mingyu stays relaxed with that big smile in place. Soonyoung, who already struggles to sit still on a normal day, is practically vibrating in his seat.

"It has to be someone we know," you mutter, narrowing your eyes. "Someone who knows me really well."

Soonyoung gasped. "Wait. What if it’s Jihoon?"

Jihoon doesn’t even look up. "Do I look like the type to write love letters?"

Fair point.

Seungkwan ignores him. "No, no, no, think about it. The handwriting, it’s too neat, too precise. And look at this phrasing—'I see you'? That’s some poetic, brooding nonsense right there."

"That’s definitely not Jihoon," Vernon mutters, taking a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

"Okay, but who else could it be?" Chan muses.

"It has to be someone we know," you murmur, rereading the letter. The words are too personal. This isn’t some random admirer. This is someone who knows your habits, your quirks and stays with you a lot of the time.

"Maybe… Jeonghan?" Chan suggests.

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. "Me? That’s cute, but if I were her admirer, she'd know. I’m not subtle."

Okay. Not him either. Your mind whirls, piecing together possibilities. "So then who?" you ask, exasperated.

Soonyoung slams a fist on the table. "We investigate."

Seungkwan nods, solemn. "Operation: Who’s In Love With Y/N begins now."

Mingyu exhales, but no one notices. No one sees the way his shoulders drop, the barely-there shift in his posture, releasing something he was holding onto too tightly. No one catches the way Jeonghan glances at him from the side, a smirk playing on his lips like this is the most entertainment he’s had all week, and you obviously don't notice him either. Because you—sweet, oblivious, you have already ruled him out. Because of course Mingyu couldn’t be the one. The thought is too absurd, too ridiculous. How could he ever be into you? You don't even have the confidence to suspect him aloud. Mingyu, who walks into every room like he owns it, who grins too easily and makes everyone feel like they belong. Mingyu, who could have anyone if he wanted. And you’re just… you. It makes no sense. It has to be someone else, someone who wouldn't make your heart stutter in your chest just by standing too close. But if you really looked at him, you’d see it. His ears are pink, fingers drum against his knee, the way he looks at you when you’re not looking at him; but you don’t.

You’re too busy strategizing.

One thing that’s as clear as day now is that, you're suspecting your own friend group. While he wanted to stay anonymous with the letters, he had deliberately altered his handwriting hoping to throw you off but ironically in doing so, he somehow ended up mimicking Jihoon’s handwriting accidentally. And now, Jihoon is your prime suspect.

-

You, Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Jeonghan, and Mingyu are lounging in the library, passing time when Seungkwan starts scribbling something on a piece of paper, lips pressed together in deep concentration as he taps the pen twice against the table before declaring, “Soonyoung is out.”

“Hey!”

“And Seungkwan,” you add.

“Excuse me?”

“Be honest,” you deadpan, tilting your head slightly. “You can’t keep a secret for five minutes, let alone one day.”

Seungkwan opens his mouth to argue, but then stops, visibly deflating. Soonyoung, still grumbling about the injustice of it all, leans over to peer at the list Seungkwan has been working on. After a lot of back-and-forth (and Seungkwan rejecting some of Soonyoung’s wilder theories, like what if it’s a ghost?), the three of you narrow down the list of suspects. Jihoon, Vernon, and Chan remain, with Jihoon being the prime suspect because, as Seungkwan pointed out, his handwriting is suspiciously similar to the letter.

Across the table, Jeonghan and Mingyu stay silent throughout the discussion. Jeonghan watches, bemused, while Mingyu leans back in his chair, arms crossed loosely over his chest. Neither of them bother to chime in, letting the three of you spin as you, Soonyoung and Seungkwan plot to set a trap when the time is right. 

Now, Chan and Vernon, for some reason, being one of the suspects… Mingyu absolutely cannot wrap his head around it. Why those two? What about anything in that letter screamed them? Why is it so easy for you to entertain the idea that either of them could be your secret admirer, but not him when he’s right here breathing the same air as you? When the admirer is right in front of you? He can literally just straight up confess, but no, he has to wait. He has to hold himself back. After all, it hasn't even been a day since you received his first letter. He can be patient. He’s more calculated than people give him credit for. Sure, he might not seem like the type to plan things out, but when it comes to you, he’s meticulous. His friends know it, even you know it, but you’re too caught up in the role of being his friend to acknowledge that he’s more than just a guy who trips over thin air, that his intelligence is just as attractive as everything else about him.

Mingyu’s original plan was simple—he wanted you to figure it out. He thought that by leaving letters and gifts, you’d naturally start paying closer attention to the people around you. He assumed it would be obvious, that you’d pick up on the little details: how he knows things about you that only someone truly paying attention would, how each gift is something he’s seen you admire before. He expected you to connect the dots, to turn around, to look at him, and to realize. But instead, you’re sitting there, hunched over a notebook with Seungkwan and Soonyoung, listing off suspects like this is some kind of whodunnit mystery game.

Two

February 8th.

Walking up to your locker with Vernon, you sip the orange juice that Mingyu handed you just a few minutes ago. As you reach your locker, you pass the juice to Vernon and dig into your jacket pocket, searching for your keys. Your fingers brush against something unexpected, a small, rectangular object. You pull it out and take a closer look. It’s a bookmark, delicately pressed with a lavender flower—your favorite. Attached to it is a tiny note:

“It reminded me of you.”

Your eyebrows lift in surprise. Turning to Vernon, you hold up the bookmark, but before you can say anything, you catch him sipping from your juice.

“Yah! That’s mine!” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes.

Vernon simply shrugs. “Right…” he says, unfazed, taking another sip.

Rolling your eyes, you shove the bookmark in his direction. “Are you sure you didn’t slip this into my pocket when I wasn’t looking?”

Vernon scoffs, shaking his head. “I swear, Y/N, it's not me. I mean, I like you, but not enough to be your secret admirer.”

You huff but decide to let it go. Shaking your head, you turn back to your locker and start gathering your things, your books, a notebook, and a pen before shutting the door with a soft click.

Slipping your bag over your shoulder, you glance at Vernon, who still is sipping your juice. Letting out a sigh, you wave him off. “See you later, thief.”

“Enjoy finding your secret admirer.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn on your heel and make your way toward the park near the college library. The crisp breeze brushes against your face as you walk, the bookmark still tucked safely in your grasp. As you reach the park, you spot Seungkwan and Soonyoung sitting on the swings, chatting animatedly. A smile tugs at your lips as you pick up your pace, ready to execute your usual routine, which is pushing Seungkwan off his swing and claiming it for yourself.

Just as you lunge forward to shove him away, Seungkwan, having caught sight of you from the corner of his eye, expertly stands up and moves aside at the last second. Caught off guard, your hands swipe through thin air instead of meeting his shoulder and the momentum sends you tumbling forward. Instead of landing smoothly on the swing, your foot catches on the ground, and you face-plant onto the seat before slipping off and landing in the most ungraceful heap.

Soonyoung bursts into laughter, clutching his stomach as he doubles over, his giggles echoing through the park. The scene now resembles a group of drunk boys fumbling around with a soccer ball, except the only thing truly injured is your pride.

Groaning, you lift your head just enough to mutter, “The earth is full of selfish people.”

Seungkwan scoffs, arms crossed. “As if.”

Soonyoung is still wheezing. Like, fully doubled over, hands on his knees as Seungkwan rolls his eyes before sighing. Eventually after much suffering, he and Soonyoung each grab an arm and help you back to your feet. Dusting yourself off, you all make your way toward the bench in front of the swings, settling down.

Seungkwan disappears for a bit with a, “I’ll go get us something to drink,” and comes back with three drinks and, bless him, some ice wrapped in a napkin for your mishap from earlier. “Here,” he says, plopping down next to you, “for your bruised dignity.”

You roll your eyes but accept the ice anyway, pressing it against your arm where you had landed a little too hard. It’s a little embarrassing how much it helps. “Anyway,” you say, setting down your drink and pulling something out of your pocket. “I got another gift from the admirer today. Vernon was with me when I found it in my jacket’s pocket.” You hold up the bookmark along with the note.

Seungkwan squints at it. “You sure it’s not Vernon?”

“He denies it,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “But he’s still sus.”

At that, the two of them launch into a theorizing session, their ideas getting more ridiculous by the second. You’re pretty sure they're just saying words now. Seungkwan adds fuel to the fire, and before you know it, they’ve spun a whole conspiracy web involving secret codes. It’s a little concerning how quickly they came up with all this. “You guys are so stupid.”

“But seriously,” Seungkwan says, “how many gifts or letters have you gotten so far?”

“Yesterday, I got a letter which you both saw, and a small plant so in total, one letter and two gifts including today's bookmark.”

Last night, when you got back to your dorm, there was a box sitting neatly in front of your door. No note on the outside, no sign of who left it. You glanced up and down the hallway but nope, no secret admirer lurked in the shadows, just the usual dorm silence. So you brought the box inside, set it on your desk, and opened it. Inside was a small, neatly potted plant with a tiny note tucked beside it. The note read:

“Take care of it well.”

That’s it. No name, no signature, just that.

Soonyoung immediately decides it’s finally the time for drastic measures. “It’s time to set a trap.”

Seungkwan, already tired, sighs. “No, it's not.”

“Yes, it is,” Soonyoung insists. “We need cameras, motion sensors, maybe even a decoy package—”

Seungkwan holds up a hand. “Okay, first of all, you’re not rich enough to have motion sensors.”

“Fine, but we can record the next delivery,” Soonyoung counters. “We set up a camera, catch them in the act.”

Seungkwan hums, considering. “Actually… that could work.”

And so the plan is set. The three of you head to Soonyoung’s place, which is always a good idea. Not just because he always somehow manages to convince his sister to lend him something after only minimal begging (or a taekwondo match), but because his mom recently visited, which means homemade food. And if there’s one universal truth, it’s that Soonyoung’s mom’s cooking has the power to make you forget all your problems. So while Soonyoung is off on his mission to beg or fight, you and Seungkwan shamelessly take advantage of the situation by helping yourselves to an absolutely unnecessary amount of food. Every bite is warm and ridiculously comforting, enough to make you forget you’re literally in the middle of an undercover investigation.

By the time Soonyoung returns, looking victorious with the tiny camera in hand, you’re full, satisfied and only mildly guilty about eating half his mom’s cooking. He doesn’t seem to notice, though, too focused on phase two of Operation: Who’s In Love With Y/N. Soon, you all make your way back to your dorm, and upon arrival, you scout for the perfect spot to set up the device, ultimately deciding on a corner of the corridor wall just out of plain sight but with a clear view of your door. Now comes the tricky part: actually installing the camera.

With no ladder, no proper tools, and absolutely no sense of self-preservation, you’re left to your own devices, meaning an unsteady, completely improvised method of reaching the higher spot. This is how you end up watching one of the most questionable stunts in history unfold.

Seungkwan, grumbling under his breath about always being dragged into Soonyoung’s ridiculous ideas, crouches on a chair to add some height. “I swear, I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You don’t get paid at all,” you remind him helpfully.

“Exactly! That’s the problem!”

Then, after a brief, heated argument over whether this was a terrible idea (which Seungkwan insists it was), Soonyoung climbs onto Seungkwan’s back, steadying himself by pressing a hand against the wall.

Soonyoung stretches up, muttering instructions that Seungkwan has absolutely zero patience for. “Hold still,” Soonyoung hisses, wobbling slightly as he raises the camera in one hand and secures it in place.

“I am holding still!” Seungkwan retorts, voice strained from supporting Soonyoung’s weight.

“Then why do I feel like I’m on a boat in the middle of a storm?”

"Maybe because you're as heavy as a sack of rice!"

You, being entirely unhelpful, are doubled over in silent laughter, barely holding back tears.

Despite the constant bickering, Soonyoung manages to attach the camera securely without knocking anything over or causing a disaster which is an impressive feat in itself, given the circumstances. Once he's satisfied with the placement, he carefully climbs down, having only one near-death slip, but he catches himself just in time.

With the camera now rolling, the three of you retreat into your dorm, hoping that today might bring another letter. You settle in, playing a few rounds of UNO to pass the time while keeping an ear out for any sounds outside. However, as the hours tick by, no new delivery arrives. Eventually, as the clock edges past 8 PM, Soonyoung and Seungkwan decide to call it a day.

“Well,” Soonyoung sighs, stretching his arms above his head, “I guess we check the footage tomorrow.”

“Or,” Seungkwan grumbles, rubbing his sore shoulders, “this was all just an excuse for Soonyoung to climb on my back.”

You laugh, walking them to the door. “Thanks for helping out, though. See you guys tomorrow.”

With a final wave, they head off leaving you alone in the dorm. But as you glance at the door one last time before heading to your bedroom, a thought scratches at the back of your mind relentlessly: What if the admirer knows they’re being watched?

You shake your head, trying to push the thought away. Now’s not the time to get paranoid. You have other things to focus on, like your studies. After spending most of your day fooling around, it’s about time you catch up. With a sigh, you open your books and begin to study. Your eyes scan the page, absorbing formulas and theorems—polynomials, integrals, trigonometric identities, limits. It’s pure maths which always seems to make sense when you’re in the right mindset. You scribble through some practice problems, your pen moving quickly across the paper as you tackle linear algebra and calculus, but your focus doesn’t last long. After an hour of studying, the temptation to check your phone becomes unbearable. Just a quick break, you think. So you open Instagram and start mindlessly scrolling through reels, watching endless edits of SEVENTEEN. As the adrenaline from watching them starts to course through your veins, you stand up, feeling a little too hot and giddy from the rush. You need to walk it off so you head to the kitchen and grab a glass of water trying to cool down and calm your racing thoughts. But as you’re pouring the water, your eyes naturally drift toward the front door. And that’s when you see it.

A letter. Slipped under the crack of the door.

Your heart skips a beat, and afraid to move. It’s from the secret admirer. The thought sends a shockwave through you. The thought that the hidden camera set up by you, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung might have actually caught the admirer in the act fills your mind, making your pulse quicken. Your hands are slightly trembling as you set the cold glass down, then without thinking twice, you rush over, bending down to pick it up. The envelope is unmarked, your fingers linger on it for a moment as a weird mix of excitement and nerves bubble in your chest. Slowly, you rip the top open and pull the letter out, unfolding it carefully.

“I saw you laughing today, and it made me stop for a second. You’ve been on my mind for a while now and if I’m being honest, I don’t think a single day passes without me thinking of you at least once. It’s strange, isn’t it? How someone can become a part of your thoughts without even trying. Anyway, I hope you liked the bookmark, thought you might like the lavender on that. It's nothing too fancy, but I hope it makes you smile. And before you ask – no, I won’t tell you who I am yet. You’ll figure it out when the time is right. Or maybe I’ll have to be the one to tell you. See you later.”

You place the letter on your desk and take a deep breath. Part of you just feels this strange comfort from the letter, but another part of you is still buzzing with excitement, wondering who the camera caught.

You decide against checking the camera right now, knowing full well that if you watch the footage without Seungkwan and Soonyoung, they’ll throw a fit and sulk for days. And dealing with their pouts and sighs isn’t worth it. They’d probably demand some sort of grand apology, maybe treating them to a big buffet or approving one of Soonyoung’s ridiculous ideas as compensation. Yeah, no thanks. With that in mind, you push aside your curiosity and decide to wait until tomorrow to watch it together.

Three

February 9th.

“Hey, have you been sleeping well? You always pretend you’re fine, but I know you haven’t been getting enough rest. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you rubbing your eyes or you zoning out when you’re supposed to be paying attention. I know you have a lot on your mind. Maybe even too much. If I could take some of that weight off your shoulders, I would. But for now, all I can do is remind you to please, take care of yourself.

Also, I know you’re probably looking everywhere for answers, but sometimes you’re too focused on finding them that you miss the simple ones. Take a breath. Relax. Not everything is a mystery – sometimes, the answer is right in front of you, waiting for you to notice.

Anyway, I saw you trip earlier. That was funny.”

-

You stand, dumbfounded, gripping both last night’s and today’s letters while Seungkwan struggles to restrain himself from launching a punch at Soonyoung. The excitement of finally discovering your secret admirer had kept you patient, waiting for the two boys so you could watch the footage together. Now, the three of you stand in a loose circle in your dorm room, Seungkwan holding the mini camera in one hand, his grip tight enough to crack plastic.

Soonyoung, your beloved and apparently utterly incompetent partner in crime, forgot to check the camera battery. Which meant that after a measly thirty minutes of recording, the camera died. Which meant it captured absolutely nothing. Which meant your admirer had narrowly avoided being caught, not because of their own cunning but because Soonyoung was an idiot.

A heavy collective sigh fills the room, a habit the three of you have apparently perfected at this point. There’s no point in dwelling on it now. Shoulders slumping in defeat, you all grab your bags and head toward the stairs, making your way to campus.

Seungkwan, however, is not letting it go. He insists that this is a catastrophe, that you’ve all officially lost your credibility as investigators, that Soonyoung should be banned from handling equipment ever again. “This is ridiculous. This is a disaster. This is an embarrassment.” He’s been nagging nonstop, words tumbling out at breakneck speed as he waves his hands. “How did we mess up something this simple? How does anyone forget to check the battery? We are so unserious—”

You groan, throwing a hand in front of his face, forcing him to stop mid-rant. “Seungkwan, shut the fuck up and watch where you’re walking before you trip over your own ego.” Although he’s not wrong, he was just as invested in this as you and Soonyoung were, so he really has no right to act this self-righteous.

He gasps, but to his credit, he actually shuts up, though you can feel the pout radiating off of him.

Soonyoung meanwhile, has already moved on. By the time you reach campus, he’s concocting another plan, mumbling under his breath about an official interrogation session. “Café,” he decides. “We’ll question the suspects in the café.”

It’s not the worst idea. After all, you, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung did come up with a list of potential admirers. And since Jihoon, Vernon, and Chan were still blissfully unaware of their suspect status on the list, it wouldn’t hurt to gather more intel.

Soonyoung claps his hands together, grinning. “Alright! We meet up at the café later with the others, and then—”

“Then we go to class before you actually flunk out of college,” you interrupt, already dragging Seungkwan toward the lecture hall.

“Pfft. Rude.” Soonyoung huffs but waves you off. “I’ll see you later!”

As you and Seungkwan slip into your usual seats, you let your eyes drift over the letters once more, fingers tracing the words. If Soonyoung hadn’t messed up, would you have already known the answer? Probably, but still…

Instead of paying attention to whatever your lecturer is droning on about—something about algorithms, efficiency, and real-world applications—you and Seungkwan huddle together whispering over your list of suspects one last time. Jihoon, Vernon, and Chan. The same three names.

“We need a proper plan,” Seungkwan mutters, tapping his pen against his notebook.

You nod in agreement. “We can’t just corner them randomly without knowing what to ask.”

So, while the rest of the class focuses on things that actually matter like, say, the lecture that’s apparently worth half of your grade, you and Seungkwan draft an interrogation script. Questions, strategies, ways to subtly (or not-so-subtly) catch the culprit slipping. Once it's done, Seungkwan sends the script to Soonyoung and without hesitation, drops a message in the group chat:

Seungkwan: Everyone. Café. After class. No exceptions.

Just as he hits send, "Seungkwan," your lecturer calls, voice heavy with disapproval.

You barely suppress a wince as Seungkwan slowly looks up, caught red-handed with his phone still in his grip. The lecturer pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, unimpressed. "Would you like to share what’s so important that you’d rather text in the middle of my very crucial, very grade-determining lecture?" (He says that every lecture. At this point, you’re convinced it’s just a scare tactic.)

Seungkwan, without missing a beat, gives the lecturer the most withering, unimpressed side-eye you’ve ever seen, one that he definitely doesn’t notice, too busy shifting his focus onto another poor student. With a sigh, Seungkwan stands up, gathers his things, and exits the room like a man facing exile.

After the lecture ends, you gather your things and step out of the hall, immediately spotting Seungkwan and Soonyoung waiting for you near the stairway landing. Seungkwan leans against the railing, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently and Soonyoung, on the other hand, is half-sitting on the lower step, scrolling through his phone, probably looking at some absurd meme he’s about to show you the moment you get close. The second you approach, Seungkwan spots you and gestures for your water bottle, giving you an expectant look. Without a word, you hand it over and he takes a long gulp like he’s been trekking through the desert. Meanwhile, you grab Soonyoung’s wrist to pull him up from his seat, and just like that, the three of you set off toward the café.

On the way, you pass by Chan’s lecture hall. He’s just stepping out when Soonyoung with no warning or whatsoever, hooks an arm around his neck and steers him in your direction. “Where are we going?” Dino asks, confused but not resisting.

“To the café,” Seungkwan answers. “We have an important interrogation.”

Chan raises an eyebrow. “Do I even have a choice?”

“Nope,” you and Soonyoung say at the same time.

“As expected…” Chan says sadly (fake).

When the four of you reach the café, you slide into your seat right between Seungkwan and Soonyoung, with Chan sitting beside Soonyoung. The moment you’re settled, the others start trickling in, each arriving on their own. That means they actually checked the group chat. If they hadn’t, well, you three would’ve just stormed into their respective halls and dragged them here by the ear. You weren’t about to wait around forever. Once everyone had gathered, Seungkwan takes charge.

“We’re here to interrogate Jihoon, Vernon, and Chan,” he announces, placing the list in the center of the table. “No questions about why they’re on the list. No complaints. We have our reasons.”

Mingyu watches all of this unfold, barely holding back a sigh. They’re never going to figure it out at this rate. He was never worried about Seungkwan and Soonyoung actually catching him. Those two could be geniuses in their own fields but when it came to deduction, they were absolute fools. It’s amusing how confident Seungkwan and Soonyoung are in their so-called investigation. He wants to scoff, wants to roll his eyes, but he keeps himself in check. You, on the other hand… you’re smart, but Mingyu is starting to think that your partnership with Seungkwan and Soonyoung might be lowering your IQ. Still, he lets it play out, keeping quiet as the interrogations begin.

Suspect Interrogations

✔ Jihoon goes first. He looks downright offended that his name is even on the list, crossing his arms over his chest as he scowls at you and Seungkwan. "Why would I do something so cheesy?" he demands. "I've told you already, it's not me!"

Seungkwan doesn’t miss a beat. He leans forward squinting at Jihoon, "That’s exactly what a guilty person would say!"

Jihoon visibly clenches his jaw, looking like he’s one second away from launching his drink at Seungkwan’s head. You almost want to stop him but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see it happen.

✔ Vernon is next. He stares at you, eyes blinking slowly, looking about as confused as a man who’s been woken up mid-dream. "I don’t even write notes for myself, why would I write one for you?" he asks. "And I think I've told you many times, it's not me!"

You and Soonyoung exchange looks, still very suspicious of him for some reason.

✔ Chan goes last. He doesn’t even pretend to take this seriously, instead, he just laughs, "If I liked you, I’d just tell you," he says.

It’s a fair point. A good point. But then… he keeps talking. He starts adding unnecessary details, rambling about hypotheticals—the ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybes’ that no innocent person would feel the need to explain. He’s digging a deeper hole with every word, and you can practically see Seungkwan’s brain short-circuiting beside you.

Then, all at once, Seungkwan slams a hand on the table and leans forward, "That sounds like something the real admirer would say to throw us off."

Chan looks so betrayed.

Jeonghan crosses his arms as he observes the mess of notes and theories sprawled out before him. "You're not going to get them to confess, you know," he says. "They want to stay anonymous. No amount of begging or interrogation is going to change that."

You narrow your eyes at him. "Then what do you suggest, Sherlock?"

Jeonghan smirks. "Simple. If you can’t catch them in the act, make them come to you."

He lays out his ideas: each one realistic, logical, and frustratingly effective. He insists that if the admirer is really in your friend group, they'll never slip up under pressure. They've already been careful and their goal isn't to get caught. It's to wait until they're ready.

But for the first time, Jeonghan is wrong.

Mingyu doesn’t want to stay anonymous because he isn’t ready. He’s been ready for as long as he can remember. He’s been in love with you since forever. The only thing stopping him from confessing outright is that he wants you to see it first. To realize, without anyone spelling it out for you that your admirer has been right in front of you this entire time. That it’s him.

Jeonghan keeps talking, giving you, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung ideas on how to lure out the admirer. You nod along, jotting down notes with Seungkwan, completely oblivious to the way Mingyu shifts in his seat, playing idly with the rings on his fingers, memorizing all of your plans. Jeonghan’s part is done, and now he just leans back, chatting lazily with Mingyu, who barely hears a word. Mingyu knows you’re not getting anywhere with this approach, not as long as you keep treating this like some detective novel. So, he decides to leave some hints of his own. Letting you catch him staring. Letting his fingers brush against yours just a second too long. 

A waiter approaches the table, setting down a glass of orange juice in front of you, along with a small hand warmer wrapped in soft fabric. A tiny note is attached, folded neatly under the band.

You blink, frowning. "I didn’t order this."

The waiter only smiles. "It was ordered anonymously. For you."

Before you can even process what that means, Seungkwan moves at the speed of 3×10⁸ m/s, snatching the orange juice off the table. "We are not letting her drink something from an unknown sender," he announces before he downs it in one go.

"You mean my secret admirer," you correct, deadpan, reaching for the note instead.

"So you say," he mutters.

Mingyu leans back in his seat, watching your reaction carefully as you unfold the tiny slip of paper. The words are simple yet enough to make your stomach flip:

“Keep your hands warm. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Seungkwan doesn’t even notice your momentary daze because he’s too busy sulking over his lack of a second drink. "That was good," he mutters, smacking his lips. "Would be nice if someone ordered one for me, though.”

Mingyu, cool, calm, and completely unbothered, raises a hand and calls the waiter over again. "Seven more orange juices, please," he says and then throws a pointed look at Seungkwan. "For everyone except him."

Seungkwan gasps. "What! Why not me?"

Mingyu smirks, propping his chin on his hand. "You already stole hers. No take-backs."

Seungkwan glares at him, indignant. “Oh, so now we’re playing favorites? Unbelievable.”

Mingyu only pokes his tongue out teasingly before leaning back in his chair, satisfied with the laughter echoing around the table. Soonyoung bursts into laughter first, quickly followed by the others. Mingyu just smiles to himself, but soon enough, you clear your throat, drawing everyone's attention. "So," you start, your voice slightly exasperated, "I was this close to catching the admirer in the act." You proceed to recount the series of events from yesterday and today, explaining how Soonyoung and Seungkwan had set up a hidden camera in your dorm’s corridor, only for the idiotic Soonyoung to forget to check the battery, causing it to die before it could record anything.

Mingyu who had been listening intently, releases a relieved breath, knowing how close he came to being discovered. The thought of you catching him in the act sends a shiver down his spine. He silently makes a mental note to be more careful with these anonymous deliveries. After all, he wants you to discover the admirer is him, but on your own time. Mingyu doesn’t want it to be forced.

Before he leaves, Mingyu stands up, making his way toward you. He gives you a hug and in that moment, it feels different unlike other times. His arms wrap around you with purpose, his chest pressing lightly against yours. The warmth of his body and the familiar scent of him, fresh and lightly musky with a hint of wood, lingers in your senses. You can feel the gentle pressure of his arms around you, and to not exaggerate, it feels like time had slowed down. Your heart stumbles over itself, a foolish, reckless thing, drunk on the way he feels against you. It’s ridiculous how a simple hug can make your head spin, how the warmth of his arms feels like something you shouldn’t crave, but do anyway. You press your lips together, willing yourself to breathe normally, to not let it show just how much this moment is unraveling you from the inside out. But it’s stupid. So, so stupid. Because this isn’t how you’re supposed to feel when your heart should be occupied with the mystery of your secret admirer—the person leaving you letters, the person who sees you in a way no one else does. You shouldn’t be aching for more, shouldn’t be selfishly lingering in Mingyu’s embrace, wishing he’d never let go. You shouldn’t want him to hold you like this again, and again, and again. But you do. And it feels wrong, because Mingyu isn’t the one writing you those letters…

He pulls back slightly, still holding you for a moment longer than usual as if trying to convey something without words. You notice how his touch lingers; the light yet deliberate way he lets you feel his presence though you don't fully catch onto his intentions. Meanwhile, Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at the hug. The others don’t really notice, as it’s not uncommon for the eight of you to hug, but something about this seems different even if they don't quite pinpoint it.

Mingyu pulls away, his smile still staying as he bids everyone goodbye, claiming he has another class in the afternoon that he can’t afford to miss.

However, as soon as he steps out of the café, he changes direction, heading not toward the classroom, but to a candle-making workshop he’d booked an appointment for a few days ago. Inside the workshop, Mingyu walks around with the instructor who guides him through the candle-making process. The space smells like warm wax and a cocktail of fragrances. The place is dancing with creativity but Mingyu already has a vision in mind.

His first idea is a rotating heart-shaped candle made of light pink wax, its design featuring ribbed layers that spiral upward giving it a unique 3D sort of effect. The second candle will be more playful, a rubik's cube made of hearts. It's a square candle and each side is covered in a grid of tiny hearts, all in varying shades of pink. The design is neat and the colors blend really well which makes the candle appear soft but striking at the same time.

Mingyu carefully selects the wax, something soft yet durable, perfect for the designs he has in mind and the colors, choosing soft shades of pink, each one different but complementing the others. He picks out the scents: a lavender with hints of vanilla. The instructor walks him through the remaining details, ensuring everything is perfect for the candles he’s about to create. Mingyu’s thoughts briefly drift back to you, wondering how you’ll react once you see the candles. But he has no time to waste anymore, so Mingyu rolls up his sleeves as the instructor prepares the workspace, laying out all the necessary materials. He’s focused, the idea of creating something special for you igniting a sense of excitement and purpose within him. The sound of the instructor’s instructions makes Mingyu feel like he’s entering a different world, one where he can focus solely on his vision.

Step 1: Preparing the Wax

The instructor starts by showing Mingyu how to melt the wax to the perfect consistency. Mingyu, fully engaged, watches carefully as the wax turns from solid to a glassy liquid. He chooses a light pink wax, the base for both candles, and pours it into a large mixing container, ready to be heated. The wax glows softly under the warm light and Mingyu smiles at how it resembles the color he envisions for the heart-shaped candle.

Step 2: Crafting the Heart Candle

Mingyu takes a special mold, shaped like a heart, and begins carefully pouring the melted wax into the mold. He does this slowly, ensuring there are no air bubbles and that the wax is evenly spread. As it fills the mold, he adds layers, letting each one cool slightly before pouring the next to create the ribbed, spiraled effect he wanted. With each layer, the heart shape begins to come to life, the design slowly becoming more intricate, giving it that soft, rotating effect he’d envisioned.

Once the mold is filled, Mingyu lets it cool. He then checks the temperature of the wax again, then chooses a faint vanilla scent to add, mixing it in thoroughly. He waits patiently, allowing the wax to solidify into the form of a delicate rotating heart.

Step 3: Crafting the Rubik's Cube Candle

Next, Mingyu turns his attention to the Rubik’s cube candle. He chooses a square mold, knowing it’ll be a bit trickier to get all the sides even but he’s determined. He melts a darker shade of pink wax, then carefully pours it into the mold, covering each side evenly. As the wax cools slightly, Mingyu presses tiny heart-shaped stamps into each side, ensuring each one is uniform but with slight variations in the shade of pink. Some hearts are light, some darker, creating a neat grid-like pattern.

Before he finishes, he adds the scent, a hint of lavender to the candle for a calming, refreshing scent that contrasts but compliments the soft vanilla in the heart-shaped candle. He doesn’t know why, but something about it feels just right.

Step 4: Setting Them to Cool

Mingyu carefully places both candles on the cooling racks, watching as they begin to set. He’s exhausted but satisfied, a small smile playing on his lips as he imagines you receiving them. He doesn’t need to say it but these candles are more than just gifts, they are symbols. Symbols of his feelings, wrapped up in a soft pink glow waiting for you to figure out that the admirer was always right in front of you.

As the wax cools and the candles solidify, Mingyu’s heart races just a little faster. He’s ready, he’s more than ready. He just needs you to realize it too.

Four

February 10th.

You carefully lift the velvet black box, a silk material cradling the delicate necklace inside. Your fingers brush against the golden chain as the lavender gemstone catches the light. The oval shape of the gemstone adds a timeless quality to it, and the way the facets reflect the light gives it an ethereal, almost magical quality. The chain is fine and delicate, emphasizing the dainty, feminine look of the necklace, which, in all its understated elegance, somehow feels like it was meant only for you. You can feel your heart race, knowing that someone took the time to pick out something that you also had your eyes on. 

Then your eyes fall on the note attached to the box, and you carefully read the words:

“I remember you mentioning this the other day. Couldn’t resist.”

Your heart skips a beat as the memory floods back. You remember the moment so clearly now. It was maybe an offhand comment but you had mentioned how much you adored that lavender gemstone necklace you saw during window-shopping. You had daydreamed about having it in your hands, imagining how beautiful it would be to wear and how it would make you feel. You'd been chatting with the others, and as you recall, the only ones who were around that day were Jeonghan, Jihoon, Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Chan. Your mind races as you quickly start to piece things together. It was one of them, wasn’t it? Vernon is out now but one of them had been paying attention and had remembered that fleeting wish. 

You set the necklace aside for a moment, turning your attention to the next gift. As you open the small package, your eyes widen in surprise. It's a keychain—a cute, round Doraemon keychain, the little blue robot cat you used to love watching as a kid. You can actually hear the theme song in your mind as you hold it in your hand.

You step into your room, carefully setting both gifts on your desk. It’s officially the fourth day since you found out about your secret admirer. Each day without fail you've received a gift along with a letter. But today, there’s been no letter yet. Which means it could arrive any moment. And that means this is your another chance. If you time things right, if you plan well enough, you might just catch them in the act. Your mind immediately goes to Seungkwan and Soonyoung. You need to meet up with them as soon as possible to strategize. Jeonghan’s advice had logic behind it, if there’s any hope of luring out the admirer, you’ll have to be smart about this.

With a deep breath, you check your phone to see the time and—Holy shit. You're late. Like, really late.

Your eyes widen as you scramble to grab your things. Soonyoung and Seungkwan are definitely going to scold you for making them wait. You don’t even have time to dwell on the gifts anymore, your priority is getting out of here now.

You rush to your closet, throwing on a gray oversized hoodie. It’s comfortable, and most importantly, easy to move in. You quickly pair it with high-waisted black wide-leg pants that you found hanging right in front of you. Slipping into your sneakers, you grab your black quilted tote bag, sliding it over your shoulder in one swift motion. Before heading out, you catch one last glimpse of yourself in the mirror, quickly applying a soft burgundy lipstick just enough to add some color to your face. Your Sony headphones settle around your neck as you practically bolt for the door. 

You can already imagine Seungkwan’s sigh and Soonyoung’s exaggerated disappointment. You are so not ready for this.

You burst into the library slightly out of breath, scanning the room until your eyes land on them sitting at one of the corner tables. Soonyoung is slouched over, lazily flipping through a book while Seungkwan looks far too unimpressed, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

The second you reach them, Seungkwan wastes no time. "You’re so late," he huffs, grabbing your wrist before you can even attempt an apology.

“Wait, I—” you start, but it’s useless.

Before you can even process what's happening, Seungkwan bolts out of the library with you in tow, dragging you behind him. You barely manage to throw Soonyoung an apologetic look but he just waves lazily, muttering something about meeting up later.

Seungkwan doesn’t stop until you’re both speed-walking through the hallway toward your class. “You seriously need to start checking the time,” he scolds though his grip on your wrist loosens once he sees you struggling to keep up.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you say between breaths, deciding to distract him before he starts a full-on lecture. “Anyway—oh my god, you won’t believe how noisy my neighbors have been lately.”

That catches his attention. “How noisy?”

“Loud loud,” you emphasize, lowering your voice as you both slip into the classroom and find your seats. “Like, I swear they’re either throwing a party every other night or filming some very questionable action scenes.”

Seungkwan gasps, already invested. “That’s insane. You have to spill everything later. But wait…” he pauses, turning to you, “...did you get anything from your secret admirer today?”

You nod, pulling your tote bag closer. “Yeah, actually. A keychain and a necklace.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Necklace? Okay, that’s new.”

“Yeah, yeah, but focus,” you whisper, nudging him as the professor enters. “We’ll talk about it later when Soonyoung’s here too.”

Seungkwan sighs but leans back in his seat, finally quieting down as class begins. You let out a relieved breath, glad you managed to avoid more nagging.

-

The plan was supposed to be foolproof. Simple, yet effective. You, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung had spent nearly an hour or two in the library piecing together the perfect strategy. Since the admirer delivered gifts and letters at completely random times, catching them in the act had been next to impossible. But then, Seungkwan had a moment of genius enlightenment or at least, that’s what he called it.

“You pretend to leave,” he had explained. “Turn off the lights, make some noise like you're walking away… but in reality, you're just hiding somewhere nearby, waiting to see who sneaks in.”

“I think it’s perfect!” Soonyoung grinned, clapping his hands together.

You weren’t as sure. On one hand, you wanted to catch him. On the other, you secretly hoped he’d be smart enough to avoid the trap. You didn’t want a dumb admirer, but you also desperately wanted to know who it was. 

And so it was set, you pretended to leave your dorm, deliberately shutting the door a little louder than necessary. The lights were turned off, and your footsteps echoed down the hallway only for you to quickly slip into a hiding spot right around the corner, out of direct sight but close enough to see anyone who entered.

Seungkwan and Soonyoung were stationed at different vantage points: Soonyoung crouched behind a vending machine down the hall, and Seungkwan, well… he was supposed to be hiding behind the stairwell.

Except he was the one who completely blew the mission.

You were barely five minutes into waiting when your phone suddenly blasted at full volume—

I'M SO SICK OF THIS FAKE LOVE~ FAKE LOVE~ FAKE LOVE~

Your heart stopped. Seungkwan was calling you.

You fumbled with your phone, fingers scrambling to hit decline as fast as humanly possible, but the damage was already done. From the dim light of the hallway, you saw a figure, tall, broad-shouldered frozen in place. There was a brief pause, and then… an unmistakable snort. Your admirer had just laughed at you.

Your mortification reached new heights as you caught a glimpse of movement just as Mingyu took a step back, blending into the shadows with alarming ease. But before he disappeared entirely, he let something slip from his fingers. A single envelope fluttered down to the floor. Then, just like that, he was gone. Mission failed.

The timing had been perfect. You had expected to wait for at least an hour, maybe two, or even five before the admirer would finally make a move. But no, he had shown up almost immediately after you hid. It should have been a victory. You had been so, so close, and yet…it still ended up failing. Your disappointment is immeasurable.

The one time you had a chance to catch him and Seungkwan of all people had to blow it. You don’t even want to look in his direction right now. Instead, you stare down at the envelope on the floor, left behind in his quick escape. You take a shaky breath before stepping forward, crouching down to pick it up. Your fingers brush against the smooth paper. It’s slightly warm, maybe from being held just moments ago. He was right in front of you and you missed him.

-

Mingyu sighs, his arm draped around your shoulders, patting you just below your shoulder blade. You lean into him, still fuming while Seungkwan sits stiffly across from you, avoiding eye contact. Soonyoung is usually the loudest one in the group but remains eerily quiet, the guilt probably eating him alive too.

You groan, burying your face against Mingyu’s chest. “I was so close! Like, insanely close. But no, of course, the universe had to humiliate me instead. The admirer didn’t just escape—he snorted at me. Snorted! He found it funny that I got caught!” You lift your head, eyes blazing with frustration. “You guys don’t understand. We had one job. One job! And we failed.”

Mingyu’s lips twitch, a mix of amusement and fondness. He’s enjoying this even as he strokes your arm absentmindedly, pretending to be the supportive friend. Jeonghan, on the other hand, actually smirks. “To be fair, I did tell you to be discreet.”

You shoot him a glare. “Don’t. Even. Start.”

Mingyu watches you closely and expectantly. Maybe you’ll finally piece it together now, maybe you’ll notice the way he’s been around you, the way the gifts are so him, the way his words always hold an extra layer of meaning. But no. Instead, you start throwing out the most ridiculous theories. “What if he’s not from our group? What if it’s some random stranger who’s been stalking me this entire time?”

Mingyu sighs deeply.

“What if it’s a professor?”

Mingyu groans.

“What if it’s—”

“Stop.”

You blink as he turns you toward him, his hands suddenly cupping your face. His palms are warm against your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your skin. Your eyes widen at the sudden closeness, at the way his gaze locks onto yours. For just a second he wonders if you’ll finally see it. If you’ll notice the way his eyes soften when he looks at you. If you’ll catch onto the warmth in his voice when he speaks. If you’ll recognize the way his hands feel so familiar, because he’s been by your side all along. But instead, you just stare at him puzzled.

Mingyu exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment before pulling back. “Don’t overthink it,” he says. “The admirer will still admire you even after knowing you were spying on him without his consent. He has no reason not to.”

You blink at him. “That’s… oddly reassuring?”

Jeonghan watches the entire thing unfold, his smirk deepening. Of course, he picked it up. Mingyu releases you by shaking his head. He’s this close to just spelling it out for you, but no, you have to figure it out yourself. His fingers twitch slightly as he slips two candies into the pocket of your hoodie. You’re sharp and he knows that better than anyone. Always observing, always analyzing but right now, you seem lost in thought, your brows furrowed just slightly, lips pressed together as if deep in contemplation and he wonders who are you thinking about? Who are you suspecting? Because he's right here. He's always been right here but do you see him?

He leans back slightly, now one arm slung over the back of your chair, watching the way your fingers idly trace patterns on the wooden table. He wonders if you realize how much of yourself you give away. The way your shoulders relax ever so slightly when you’re comfortable. The way your fingers tense when you’re overthinking. The way your lips part just the tiniest bit when a thought clicks into place. And right now… you’re thinking hard. 

Meanwhile, his mind flashes back to earlier.

When your ringtone screamed Fake Love, he didn't panic but his body reacted on instinct, stepping back into the shadows, keeping his composure. And honestly, he had expected you to pull a stunt like this. Ever since he heard you setting up the hidden camera last time, he knew you’d try something even bolder next. That’s why he had prepared for it, why he was ten times more careful now especially since you’d taken Jeonghan’s advice. But the real problem was that you were so cute.

The way you hunched down, scrambling to decline the call, eyes darting around like a guilty child caught sneaking snacks before dinner. From the corner of his eye, he had watched you, heart clenching in the most endearing way. He wanted to stay longer just to see you try harder, to watch the determination in your eyes. But he had slipped the letter onto the floor and disappeared before you could catch him. 

-

At night, when you can’t get the gifts out of your head, the theories keep spinning, running faster than your thoughts. You pull out your phone, without even thinking about it. You tap his contact in your phone reflexively. He is the only person you can call for this, the only one who doesn’t mind when you ramble, who lets you spill every ridiculous and half-formed thought without ever making you feel like you’re too much. He’s the only one you trust to catch your words when they come tumbling out. But does he ever do the same? Does he ever pick up his phone in the middle of the night, scroll past contacts, and land on your name? When things get too loud in his head, when he feels too much, does he think about calling you the way you think about calling him?

The sound of the dial tone fills the silence in your room, your pulse quickening as you wait for him to pick up. It rings once, twice—until finally, he answers.

"Hello?" His voice is deep and groggy like you’ve just pulled him out of deep sleep.

"Hey," you say, your words spilling out all at once. "I think it’s Jihoon. His handwriting, I swear, it's obvious. And about that keychain, it could be Chan too, maybe he remembered that necklace…."

There's a moment of silence on the other end, and you’re too wrapped up in your thoughts to hear the shift in his voice. It’s a bit of a sigh like he’s holding back something. "Hmm," Mingyu murmurs, dragging the word out. "You think it’s Jihoon or Chan? I mean, I guess it could be them." But you don’t hear the tension in his tone.

You launch into another theory, oblivious to his discomfort. "Or it could be Jeonghan? I know he's blunt all the time but I only talked about the necklace with him, Chan, you, Jihoon and Seungkwan…so it has to be one of them, right?"

He chuckles softly though the sound feels strained, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know. Maybe you should just… let it be for a little while. Think about it in the morning, yeah?"

"I’m not letting it go, Mingyu. I need to figure this out. It’s driving me crazy!"

You hear his deep exhale on the other end. He’s not chuckling anymore. "Okay, okay," he says, voice slightly more clipped. "But get some sleep, alright?"

You roll your eyes, but you’re not listening. You’re too focused on unraveling it. "I’ll sleep when I have answers. Thanks anyway, Mingyu."

By the time you glance at the clock, it’s already 2 a.m., and you’re still awake, thinking about everything.

-

“You seemed deep in thought today. I wonder what you were thinking about. Or rather… who. You’re sharp, you know. Always paying attention, always observing. I wonder if you realize how much of yourself you give away when you’re lost in your own head. You’re looking for answers right now, aren’t you? That’s okay. Just don’t get so caught up in looking that you forget to see what’s right in front of you.

I hope you liked today’s gift. I thought it suited you.”

Five

February 11th.

Another day, another failure. You, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan are officially verified stupid.

The three of you sit slumped against the dorm room wall staring at the ceiling in sheer defeat. The plan was foolproof but you didn't account for one crucial factor. You live in a building with other students. You guys decided to install a motion alarm. Too many false alarms. A passing student, a delivery guy, a gust of wind. Each time the alarm went off, you three sprang into action only to find a confused neighbor or an empty hallway. By the third false alarm, Seungkwan was done.

"I'm quitting." He declared, standing up immediately. "I can't do this anymore. I might commit a crime."

"But you want to find out, right?" Soonyoung asked.

"I do. But not like this..." Seungkwan rubbed his temples, looking at you for support.

You didn't understand him. At all. "We were so close this time, though!" you argued, but even you were starting to doubt that.

Soonyoung groaned, flopping onto the floor. "I thought this would be the one…"

"Well, it wasn't. And I need a break before I actually start throwing hands." Seungkwan warns.

You sighed, sinking deeper into the floor. The admirer was winning. Again. And you were running out of ideas.

Somewhere out there, Mingyu was definitely laughing.

A knock echoed through the room. Your heart jumped. Reaching for the door, you find another letter. Your stomach twisted. The admirer had already delivered it. He knew, he must have waited until you were distracted, until you were busy sulking over another failed plan before sneaking in and leaving this behind. You clenched your jaw. He was taunting you.

Seungkwan sighed, flopping onto the couch. "We lost again."

But you weren’t ready to admit defeat. You slowly opened the letter, your fingers brushing over the familiar handwriting.

“It’s interesting watching you try to figure this out. I wonder if you’ll ever catch on or if I’ll have to spell it out for you one day. You looked frustrated earlier. I know you hate it when things don’t make sense, but sometimes, not knowing is part of the fun. Not everything has to be a puzzle to solve, maybe I'm right in front of you. Still, I’m curious—how’s the investigation going? I guess I already know.”

-

The note says:

"Your favourite, hope you aren't mad anymore. Oh and to remind you, don’t finish this in one go. I know how much you love it but eating it all in one day might just lead to a cold! I won't be able to bear to see you sniffle with a red nose, especially when you're already so adorable. Take care of yourself, okay? I’m sure you don’t want to be caught with a runny nose.”

There you stand holding the tub of half baked Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream. The combination of chocolate and vanilla ice cream with cookie dough and brownie chunks, your absolute favorite. You take a deep breath, a little smile tugging at your lips, but the mystery of the admirer still weighs heavy on your chest.

You stride over to the kitchen, grabbing a spoon from the drawer and making your way to the couch. You plop down, the tub in your lap and start digging in. The cold ice cream melts quickly on your tongue, soothing some of your earlier frustration. You scoop up another generous bite and let the flavors settle as you think.

Then, you grab your phone, typing away in the group chat. You snap a quick selfie, spoon still in your mouth, with the ice cream tub beside you. With a smirk, you send it out to the group chat:

Y/N: "Whoever got me this, thanks! But I'm still angry. If you don’t reveal yourself soon… you might just regret it."

Six

February 12th.

"You’ve been looking everywhere, hahah. Searching, questioning, analyzing... but sometimes, the answer is closer than you think. It’s easy to overlook the obvious when you’re searching too hard. But I don’t mind, I like watching you figure things out even if you’re terribly off track. Don’t forget to rest, okay? Also, I know you skip meals when you’re too busy, don’t do that. Take care of yourself, because someone out there cares enough to remind you every day."

-

"It's been six days!" he groans. "And still no clue who this admirer is?"

Seungkwan sighs, peering over his shoulder. "At this point, I’m starting to consider Soonyoung's idea that we’re dealing with a ghost."

Mingyu and Chan lean in, trying to catch a glimpse of the note. Mingyu’s heart beats faster not just from curiosity but from something else entirely.

Then, something clicks in your mind. Without a word, you dive into your bag shuffling through its contents in a frenzy. The others watch with curiosity as you pull out all six letters, carefully laying them side by side across the table.

Mingyu watches as your eyes scan each letter, analyzing every word, every phrase. His pulse quickens. Are you finally piecing it together? Are you about to turn to him, grab his collar and pull him in and kiss? Will you tell him you’ve known all along, that you’ve felt the same way, that he’s been in your heart just as you’ve been in his? He inches closer slowly, hoping to make it easier for you to reach for him when you want to pull him in. And then you gasp loudly.

Soonyoung jumps forward. “What? What is it?”

Your eyes widen, mouth agape in disbelief. “I—I think I know who it is.”

The room goes silent. Mingyu barely breathes.

You turn to the group, your expression resolute. “It’s Jeonghan.”

Mingyu’s heart stops. A crushing weight settles in his chest as his two-minute fantasy shatters in an instant. The imagined confession, the kiss, the overwhelming relief of finally being known is now gone.

"Jeonghan?" Seungkwan echoes, stunned.

You nod, “Think about it! The letters keep hinting that the answer is closer than I think, that I’m overlooking something obvious. And I completely dismissed Jeonghan before because I figured he’d be too lazy to go through all this effort.”

Soonyoung frowns. “That still seems like a stretch.”

“No, listen! Jeonghan was the one who told us the admirer isn’t ready to reveal himself yet, which means he knows who it is, because it's him! He was also there when I talked about the necklace. The admirer sent me one a few days later. That’s not a coincidence!” The group exchanges glances, mulling over your logic. “And,” you continue, “the letters keep saying I’m terribly off track. Who else could it be but the one person I never seriously considered?”

Mingyu stays quiet, watching as you piece together a puzzle with the wrong pieces. He clenches his jaw as you match all the clues to Jeonghan, not realizing that in your eagerness to connect the dots, you missed the most obvious thing of all. It's HIM that you never considered. Not even once.

He was the one listening when you spoke about the necklace. He was the one who spent hours writing each letter. He was the one who paid attention to every detail. He was the one who knew you so well he could predict your reactions before you even had them. He was the one who had been right in front of you all along. He was the one watching you search, waiting for the moment your eyes would finally land on him, but instead, you’ve drawn the wrong conclusion. Was he that unimportant? That invisible to you?

His heart sinks lower and lower as you present your case, completely unaware of the storm raging inside him. What will you do when you realize the truth? When you finally see what’s been in front of you this entire time? Will it be too late?

Seungkwan and Soonyoung looked at each other before nodding in agreement. “You know what? That actually makes sense,” Seungkwan says, arms crossed. “It has to be Jeonghan.”

Soonyoung says, “Honestly, the more I think about it, the more obvious it seems. He’s been here the whole time, just messing with us like always.”

Chan, who had been nervously eyeing the letters earlier, exhales in relief. “Well, at least that means it’s not me.” He mutters, sinking into his seat, visibly relaxed now that he’s off the suspect list.

Everyone’s looking at you, and in their eyes, you see the same thing. Certainty. You’ve convinced them. The mystery is nearly solved.

“You’re 100% sure?” Mingyu finally speaks, his voice light.

“No. 99. I just need to be 1% more sure.”

But for a moment you feel a strange hesitation, a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you that you haven’t even considered how you feel about Jeonghan being your admirer. You were too caught up in the thrill of the mystery, in chasing after the truth that you forgot it involved real emotions. That someone out there has been writing to you with real feelings, with intention. Do you even want to know? What if the truth doesn’t match the version of the story you’ve built in your head? What if it’s not who you expect, not who you secretly hoped for? What if it’s not Jeonghan? Or what if it is? And what does it say about you that the thought makes your stomach twist? That, deep down, some foolish part of you already knows whose name you wish to see at the end of those letters? Not Jeonghan. Not Jihoon. Not Vernon. Not Chan. Not anyone you’ve guessed so far. What if the one person you want it to be is the same person you’ve already ruled out? The one who’s always felt just a little out of reach. The one you’ve spent years convincing yourself is too much, too good, too impossible, because the thought of him being your secret admirer is too absurd. Too ridiculous. Right? But you shake the thought away and turn to Mingyu, your most trusted ally in this.

“You’re close with Jeonghan,” you say, eyes locking onto his. “Out of everyone, he’ll lower his guard around you the most. Can you help me fish him out?”

Mingyu stiffens for a fraction of a second, but no one notices. His heart sinks at how easily you place your trust in him, at how confidently you believe in something so wrong. But he doesn’t know how to say no to you. He never has. So he forces a small smile, nodding even as his chest tightens. “Yeah… sure. I’ll help.”

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to fish out of Jeonghan when the admirer you’re searching for is him.

He forces himself to keep a neutral expression as Seungkwan and Soonyoung excitedly discuss possible ways to corner Jeonghan into confessing. Chan listens with mild amusement, occasionally throwing in a comment but Mingyu barely hears any of it. His thoughts are drowning in the bitter irony of the situation.

This was supposed to be his moment. A dull ache settles in his chest, an uncomfortable tightness that won’t go away. Had he been so careful, so subtle, that you never even considered him? He swallows down the lump in his throat, gripping the edge of the table as he grounds himself. 

“Mingyu?”

He blinks, snapping out of his thoughts only to find you looking at him expectantly. “You okay?” you ask, brows slightly furrowed.

He should say something. Laugh, tease, pretend everything is fine, but all he can manage is a weak nod. “Yeah,” he lies. “Just… thinking.”

Seungkwan snorts. “Thinking too hard. Come on, we need you on this. You know Jeonghan best.”

Mingyu forces a smile. Yeah, he knows Jeonghan well but more than that, he knows you and right now, he knows that you’re chasing the wrong person. And worst of all, he has to help you do it.

-

The air carries a faint warmth of the afternoon sun, but it does nothing to ease the cold ache settling in Mingyu’s chest. He nudges Chan and looks at you, “It’s getting late. We should head home.”

You nod, stretching slightly before gathering your things. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As you, Mingyu, and Soonyoung step out onto the streets, the golden light catches in your hair, turning it into something almost ethereal. Mingyu sees it but his heart feels heavy, weighed down by the thoughts swirling in his mind. The moment you confidently said Jeonghan’s name, the moment you smiled as if you had solved the puzzle, it had been like a dull knife sinking into his chest. A slow, dragging pain that refused to go away. It hurts. Really, really hurts. But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t let it show. Instead, he walks beside you, nodding and responding when necessary, pretending everything is fine.

By the time he drops you off at your dorm, his emotions are stretched thin, barely holding together. You wrap an arm around him, pressing yourself into his side in a casual hug. His breath hitches, but he forces himself to stay still. The warmth of your body against his should be comforting but it only reminds him of how far away you actually are.

“Don’t forget to talk to Jeonghan, okay?” you remind him, looking up at him with those bright, expectant eyes. “Let me know what he says.”

“I will.”

You disappear behind your door, and just like that, you’re gone.

Mingyu bids Soonyoung bye and stands there for a moment before turning on his heel and walking away. But he doesn’t go home.

Instead, he finds himself by the river, the city hums softly in the distance but here, it’s quieter, just the occasional ripple of water, the faint rustling of leaves. The soju bottle in his hand is already half-empty but the bitterness of it barely registers on his tongue.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to tell you when you inevitably ask about Jeonghan. He doesn’t know how to fake a conversation that never happened. He doesn’t know how to face you, knowing that you had every clue and still, still didn’t see him. He had waited; waited patiently, watched you go through your theories, your excitement, your endless blabbering about clues. He never snapped, never broke character, because he truly believed you would figure it out. That at the end of this little fun, you would finally turn to him and say his name with certainty. But you never did, and that’s what hurts the most. Not that Jeonghan, who was completely uninvolved, was about to be wrongfully accused. But that when you looked for the one who adored you, the one who knew you inside and out, the one who had spent every day thinking of ways to make you smile—you didn’t recognize him.

Still, if nothing else, at least he gave you something exciting. At least, for a few days, he gave you a mystery to solve, a thrill to chase. Even if in the end, he was the one left behind.

-

The almost-emptied bottle is plucked from Mingyu’s loose grip. He blinks, sluggish from both the alcohol and the weight pressing down on his heart and looks up to find Jeonghan standing over him. The older man wears his usual smile, one that could mean a hundred different things but his eyes tell another story, one that sees right through Mingyu’s poor attempt at pretending he’s fine.

Mingyu doesn’t say anything. He just turns his gaze back to the river, watching the water ripple under the dim glow of streetlights. Jeonghan exhales softly, before sitting down beside him. He doesn’t speak, or pry. He simply stays, settling Mingyu in a way that only a longtime friend can.

For a while, the only sound between them was the distant buzz of the city, and the lapping of the river against the banks.

Then, Mingyu finally breaks the silence. “She thinks it’s you,” his voice hoarse, the weight of the evening settling deeper into his bones. “She really, really thinks it’s you.” He lets out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “When the answer was right in front of her the whole time.” 

Jeonghan remains quiet, just listening.

“I’m not mad,” Mingyu continues, “I shouldn’t be mad. I’m just… a little hurt.” He pauses, gripping his knees. “No, actually… I am hurt.” His throat tightens. “I don’t even know why it hurts this much, but…”

He trails off, exhaling sharply before looking down at his hands.

“I thought she’d get there eventually. I really thought she would.” His voice drops to hissed tone “I waited. I watched her figure out her little theories, set up her stupid traps, get all excited over the mystery… and I was patient. I thought, ‘Any day now, she’ll turn around, she’ll realize, she’ll see me.’” Mingyu swallows, “But she never did.”

He doesn’t know why it’s so easy to say these things to Jeonghan, maybe because Jeonghan is good at keeping secrets, at holding things close without judgment. Maybe because Jeonghan doesn’t rush to give meaningless comfort but just stays.

Mingyu drags a hand down his face, exhaling bitterly. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do tomorrow. She wants me to ask you about the admirer—to ‘fish’ something out of you.” He lets out a dry laugh. “What the hell am I supposed to fish out of you, Jeonghan?”

Jeonghan finally speaks, his voice calm but softer, something that understands. “Well, I could always confess to being her secret admirer. She's not bad.”

Despite himself, Mingyu snorts, shaking his head. “Not funny.”

Jeonghan leans back on his palms, looking up at the night sky. “You’re hurting because you care. Because you love her and you wanted her to see you without you having to say it outright.” He tilts his head toward Mingyu. “But love doesn’t always work like that, you know?” Mingyu doesn’t answer. Jeonghan sighs. "If it's hurting this much, then maybe you should ask yourself why you're still holding on."

Mingyu stays silent for a long moment before finally admitting, “I wanted to make it exciting. I wanted it to be something she’d remember.” He clenches his fists. “But it all just went wrong.”

“She’ll figure it out eventually,” Jeonghan says a little too knowingly.

Mingyu huffs, unconvinced. “What if she doesn’t?”

Jeonghan shrugs. “Then maybe it’s time you stop waiting for her to find you and let her see you instead.”

Mingyu doesn’t respond. He just looks out at the river again, letting Jeonghan’s words sink in. 

He simply lets the silence stretch out and finally after what feels like hours, Jeonghan stands up, brushing off his pants, “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.” His voice is soft, the teasing edge absent for the moment.

Mingyu nods, not trusting himself to speak. He watches Jeonghan walk away, the older man’s figure swallowed by the night, before his gaze drifts back to the river. He takes a deep breath trying to clear his mind but nothing seems to work. His heart still aches for you, for the way you’ll probably look at him tomorrow, expecting him to just play along, asking questions he has no answers to.

Seven

February 13th

“I wonder if you’ll figure it out or if I’ll have to spell it out for you. You looked happy yesterday. I hope it stays that way. I hope whoever I am to you, whoever I will be, gets to see that happiness every day. Maybe this whole thing was ridiculous. Maybe I should’ve just told you from the start. But I guess I wanted to see. To know if you’d ever look my way without me having to say it first.

See you soon.”

-

The elevator doors slide open and you step in, jabbing the button for the sixth floor with more force than necessary. The doors close, but your mind is still racing, still stuck on the morning’s events.

Jeonghan had shown up at your dorm today, standing at your door with his usual lazy smile, but soft eyes. “I heard you think it’s me,” he had said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

You had opened your mouth to defend yourself, to explain the logic, to lay out all the pieces that led you to him, the way all the clues lined up in your head but before you could get a word out, he had sighed, shaking his head saying it's not him and just like that, everything crumbled. Because he wasn’t lying. You could hear it in his voice, see it in the way he looked at you, not with amusement, not with mischief, but with something almost like pity.

“You’re hurting him, you know,” he had added, too softly, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

You had stiffened at that. “What?”

Jeonghan had just sighed again, then pulled you into a quick hug, arms warm around you, like he knew you needed the comfort. Then he had sat you down, looked you in the eye and said, “You’re misdirected, miserably so.”

You had thought you were getting closer, thought you were connecting the dots but you were connecting the wrong ones. Seven days. Seven days of chasing a ghost and you were nowhere.

It felt like you had been running in circles, grasping at shadows, only to be led astray at every turn. It wasn’t that you were upset Jeonghan wasn’t the secret admirer. No, that wasn’t what frustrated you. It was the fact that despite everything, you still couldn’t figure it out. You had failed. And then failed again.

After hearing Jeonghan out, you should have let it go, let your mind rest but something wouldn’t let you. Mingyu. You needed to hear what he had to say too. Jeonghan had been honest with you, and you believed him, but you still wanted to hear it from Mingyu’s mouth. What had he talked about with Jeonghan yesterday? Did he come to the same conclusion? Did he know Jeonghan wasn’t the admirer?

You weren’t sure why it mattered. Maybe it was because you trusted them both, maybe it was because you were still desperately searching for a lead, even if it meant going over the same conversation twice.

So now, here you are, frustrated and restless, storming into Mingyu’s apartment without so much as a knock, letting the door swing shut behind you. Mingyu, who had been standing by the kitchen counter, blinks in surprise as you march past him and collapse onto his couch.

“I can’t figure it out,” you groan, covering your face with your hands. “Seven days, and I’ve gotten nothing.”

Mingyu doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you as he grabs a glass, pouring you some orange juice before walking over and setting it in front of you. You peek at him through your fingers. He's too quiet. Still, you sit up, grabbing the glass but barely paying attention to it. “Jeonghan came over this morning,” you start, swirling the juice in your hands. “He told me it’s not him.”

Mingyu hums, lowering himself onto the couch beside you but not too close like before; after what happened yesterday.

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “I mean, it makes sense now. My whole theory was just coincidence. But if it’s not him, then who?” You run a hand through your hair. “It’s like I’m playing Mafia game but worse—no real clues, no real strategy, just me failing over and over again.”

Mingyu swallows, looking away. Failing? No. Just blind. You don’t notice the way his fingers tighten around his knees, his shoulders curling in just slightly. You don’t notice him. “You trust Jeonghan, right?” he asks finally, his voice careful, controlled.

You nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Then why are you here?” His voice is steady but there’s something just barely restrained underneath. “What do you need from me?”

You hesitate, tilting your head. “I just… I wanted to hear what you talked about with Jeonghan yesterday.” You let out a breath. “I trust you both, but I wanted to see if you came to the same conclusion.”

Mingyu’s heart sinks after knowing you’re here for that. He nods slowly, fingers curling into fists against his legs. “Right.”

You don’t notice his jaw tightening, his expression flickering for half a second before smoothing over. You don’t see how the very person you’ve been searching for is sitting right beside you, falling apart. And Mingyu just listens because what else can he do?

The deeper hurt comes from the fact that he still loves you, and he's been waiting for you to realize it, but instead, you’ve been focused on other possibilities. He’s trying his best to stay supportive and patient, but it’s hard for him to keep his distance while you’re upset and trying to figure things out. There's a sense of loneliness in how he’s been handling everything on his own, even though he’s surrounded by people who care about him. He feels like he's been the quiet one in the background hoping you’d see him, but you haven’t. Now, hearing you rant about your failed attempts and frustrations, he feels both comforted and hurt—comforted that you trust him enough to vent to him, but hurt that, despite his feelings, you’re still unsure of him as the person who’s been giving you all those gifts and letters. He’s torn between wanting to confess his feelings, but knowing how much it would hurt to be rejected or overlooked again. He wants to be the one you turn to, the one you lean on when things get hard so in this moment, he's just there for you, listening, because that's what friends do, even when their heart is breaking.

-

Your voice is sharp with frustration as you pace around Mingyu’s apartment, fists clenched at your sides.“I just don’t get it,” you say, shaking your head. “Who would go through all this effort?”

Mingyu, watching you from where he sits on the couch, his heart aching, simply mutters, “I would.”

But it slips past you. You’re too caught up in your thoughts, too wrapped up in your own confusion to hear the weight behind his words. He watches as you continue to storm around, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying anything more.

Then something shifts. Maybe it’s the way he remains so still while you’re falling apart or maybe it’s the way his presence has always felt steady. But whatever it is, it pushes something inside you to snap.

"Why aren’t you saying anything?" You turn on him suddenly, as you throw another jab that Mingyu doesn’t deserve. He sits there, the heart inside him breaking. "You always have something to say, Mingyu. Always. But now, when I actually need someone to help me figure this out, you’re just sitting there looking at me like I’m missing something obvious!"

Mingyu exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. He’s been patient. So patient. But this is agony, watching you fight for an answer when he’s been in front of you the whole time. Watching you tear yourself apart over this, over something that was meant to be a confession of love. "Maybe because you are missing something obvious," he finally says, voice measured, but there’s an edge to it now.

Your brows furrow as you take a step toward him, your heart pounding for a reason you don’t understand. "Then tell me, Mingyu! What am I missing?"

His gaze hardens, but beneath the frustration, it's more vulnerable than ever. "You really want me to spell it out for you?"

"Yes!"

And suddenly, it hits you like a freight train crashing into your chest. Mingyu.

It’s always been him. You love him. Not in the way you love your friends. Not in the way you once thought love was supposed to feel. But in the way that makes your chest ache, in the way that makes your heart race even when you’re angry. You don’t care who the secret admirer is. You don’t need to figure it out anymore. Because it doesn’t matter. It never did. Because you love Mingyu. And you always have. It’s not that you never considered him, it’s that you forced yourself not to. Mingyu was too kind, too good, too perfect. He was the type of person every girl wanted, and you were just lucky enough to call him one of your closest friends. It was easier to pretend, easier to ignore your feelings than to face the possibility of rejection. Because the truth was, if you had acknowledged your feelings, it would have hurt too much to know he didn’t feel the same way. But now, as you really look at him, you realize just how foolish you’ve been. You love him.

Even now, as you lash out at him unfairly, he stays patient. Even though your words are cutting, he doesn’t push you away. He listens, endures, and understands, and that’s what hurts the most. "Wait…" Your voice comes out quieter now, your anger dissipating into something raw. "Do you… do you know something?"

Mingyu stares at you, disbelieving. His patience, his restraint, it all crumbles in an instant. "…Seriously?"

He grabs a piece of paper from the table, scrawls something quickly, and thrusts it into your hands. You look down.

“It’s me, dummy.”

The world stills.

Your breath catches as you read the words over and over again, the realization crashes into you like a wave, sweeping away every doubt, every misdirection, every foolish assumption you’ve made in the past week. It was always Mingyu. Your fingers tighten around the paper as your heart pounds against your ribs. You lift your gaze, meeting his, and suddenly everything makes sense; the lingering stares, the way he was always there, how he looked at you like you hung the stars in his sky. The sadness in his eyes earlier wasn’t just frustration; it was heartbreak. And you had been the one breaking him all along.

Mingyu watches you, his eyes holding everything. The years of waiting, the longing, the pain of standing so close yet feeling miles away. His confession wasn’t grand, wasn’t how he planned. It was raw, impulsive, torn from him in a moment of breaking. And now, he waits. For you to understand, for you to say something, for anything.

Your lips part but no words come because how do you speak when your heart is in your throat, when the very foundation of what you thought you knew has shifted beneath your feet? It was always Mingyu. The notes. The gifts. The presence. And you had spent all this time searching for someone who had never been lost.

“Mingyu…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he hears it. He always hears you.

His hands clench at his sides, bracing himself for whatever comes next. You can see it in the tension coiling just below his cheekbone, his breathing is just a little unsteady. He’s terrified, because now that you know, you could break him all over again.

But you don't want to break him this time. You've already broken him enough.

You simply step closer, so close he can feel the warmth radiating from you. His body stiffens when you reach for a piece of paper behind him, taking it from the table. Without a word, you flip it over, your fingers moving as you scribble something down. The tension of the past week melting into something softer, and new.

Then, before he can process it, you step in even closer reaching toward him, slipping the folded paper into the pocket of his hoodie. Your fingers brush against the fabric, barely grazing him but it’s enough to send a shiver down his spine. Mingyu blinks, startled, his hand instinctively reaching into his pocket as you take a step back. His fingers find the note, unfolding it with a mix of hesitation and urgency. His eyes scan the words, and his breath hitches.

"Tomorrow, dinner at 7? My treat, Secret Admirer."

For the first time in what feels like forever, a slow stunned smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He looks up at you, hope flickering in his eyes, searching for confirmation. And when you finally meet his gaze, your own lips curling into the softest, most knowing smile Mingyu knows.

A disbelieving laugh escapes him as he runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging with relief. The tension that had been weighing on him for weeks, even years, unravels all at once, “you’re serious?” 

You tilt your head, your smile growing just a little. “Would I offer to pay if I wasn’t?”

Mingyu lets out a full, genuine laugh this time, shaking his head as he folds the note carefully, tucking it back into his pocket. “Tomorrow at seven,” he repeats, savoring the words.

But as soon as the weight of everything settles in, what just happened and what it means, you suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to run. Your heart is racing, your palms are clammy, and you don’t trust yourself to speak without making a fool of yourself. So, without thinking, you turn on your heel, ready to flee. But you don’t get far.

Mingyu’s hand wraps around your wrist in an instant, stopping you mid-step and before you can process it, you’re spun around, your momentum pulling you straight into him. You gasp as your body collides with his chest, the warmth of him, the solidness of him, momentarily knocking the breath out of you. His other hand finds its way to your waist instinctively, and your brain short-circuits.

His fingers glide up, brushing against your cheek, his touch so gentle it sends a shiver down your spine. You force yourself to look up at him, only to be met with the most breathtaking sight; Mingyu gazing down at you with that smile. Not just any smile, a smile that steals your breath, that makes the whole world blur at the edges. His slightly tousled hair falls over his forehead, the soft strands brushing against his brows making him look effortlessly perfect in a way that shouldn’t be fair. Your heart slams against your ribs.

Mingyu tilts his head slightly as he murmurs, “Now you can run away.” His lips curl into that signature mixture of a smile and smirk, teasing yet affectionate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “Oh, and don’t forget—you have a class to attend.” 

Your eyes widen slightly as the reminder crashes into you but Mingyu simply chuckles, finally letting go of your waist but not before leaning in just slightly, just enough to fluster you even more. The absence of his touch is almost immediate, leaving behind a warmth that lingers.

Mingyu now steps back, grinning as he watches your flustered expression unfold and as you stumble over your words, scrambling for any semblance of composure, he just stands there looking entirely too pleased with himself. He's already looking forward to tomorrow.

-

The sight in front of you is nothing short of chaos.

Seungkwan's grip on his iced Americano slips as he processes the revelation, and without thinking, you reach out, catching the cup just before it crashes to the floor. A few drops spill onto your hand, the cold seeping into your skin, but you're too preoccupied to see it.

Seungkwan looks utterly defeated. Soonyoung, however, isn't faring any better. His mouth hangs open, his entire body frozen and his brain is still buffering.

"You mean to tell me—" Seungkwan starts, his voice high-pitched, "Mingyu?! Clumsy-ass, can’t-lie-to-save-his-life, trips-over-air Mingyu?!"

You nod.

They had too dismissed the possibility at first, thinking there was no way he could pull off something so sly. Not when his entire history was filled with clumsy mistakes and awkward cover-ups. The Mingyu they knew was many things, but a master of deception? Not a chance. And yet, here you three were, blindsided.

They had spent the entire morning preparing themselves to comfort you, fully expecting you to be in shambles after your 99% certainty that Jeonghan was your secret admirer turned out to be 100% wrong. When Jeonghan had told you in the morning that he wasn't the one, they thought you'd either be breaking down in devastation or burning something down in frustration (which, technically, you were). But they definitely hadn’t expected you to walk in with the revelation of your secret admirer.

Eight

February 14th

The moment you step out of your apartment, Mingyu’s breath catches in his throat.

He was supposed to have dinner with you at night for your first Valentine’s Day date, but he insisted on spending the day together before dinner. And now, here you are, standing in front of him with your hair down, looking confident and stylish in your new boots and skirt.

The delicate lavender gemstone around your neck catches the morning sunlight, its golden chain resting just above your collarbone on top of your sweater. You’re wearing the necklace—the one he gave you. And now, seeing it on you, knowing you chose to wear it today of all days, something warm and undeniable unfurls in his chest.

He clears his throat, trying to focus as he hands you a bouquet of lavender flowers nestled between soft pink roses. “For you,” he murmurs, watching closely for your reaction.

Your lips part as your fingers gently trace the petals. “Lavender…” you whisper, your gaze lifting to meet his.

Mingyu grins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. And roses, because…well, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Something tugs at your heart but before you can dwell on it, he’s taking your hand, leading you toward the day he’s planned just for you.  Mingyu decides to take you everywhere.

-

The smell of warm pastries fills the air as you both settle into a booth. Mingyu insists you try his favorite pancakes. They’re stacked high, topped with whipped cream, and drizzled with syrup. You raise an eyebrow, skeptically eyeing the enormous portion.

“Okay, you have to try these,” he insists, pushing a plate of pancakes toward you. 

“Are you sure these are as good as you say?”

“Trust me, they’re life-changing,” Mingyu says practically bouncing in his seat, eager for you to try them.

You take a bite, and the fluffiness, the sweetness, the perfect amount of syrup, all of it hits your taste buds in a rush. You pause, eyes wide in surprise. “Okay, okay, I admit it. They’re that good.”

“See? I told you!” Mingyu grins. “Now, pass me the last bite.” You hold your fork up, about to take the last piece of pancake for yourself, when Mingyu leans across the table, “I’m not letting you have it that easily.”

“Oh, it’s on,” you smirk, holding the bite just out of reach. You raise an eyebrow, giving him a challenging look. “You want this last bite? You’re gonna have to work for it.”

He laughs, his voice full of amusement. “You’re really gonna make me fight for it?”

“Absolutely,” you say, digging in your heels and preparing for the battle.

And so begins the great pancake fight. You both fall into an exaggerated tug-of-war with the last piece of pancake. Mingyu’s laughter rings out, the sound infectious. Finally, you make a show of pretending to ‘fight’ for the last bite, your fork and his clashing in the air, until you grab it and pop it in your mouth. He glares at you mockingly, then laughs again, shrugging good-naturedly.

“I’ll get you next time,” he promises, and you roll your eyes.

After wiping syrup off your chin with a napkin, Mingyu stands up with a contented sigh, stretching his arms above his head. He looks down at you with a grin. "Alright, time to burn off all that sugar," he says, picking up the check and tossing a few bills onto the table. "Next stop—arcade!"

"An arcade? Really?"

"Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for."

You grab your bag, following him out of the café and into the crisp air. As you both walk down the street, Mingyu leads the way basically bouncing as you head toward the neon-lit arcade a few blocks away. The sound of clinking coins and cheerful music grows louder the closer you get, and you can feel the excitement building.

When you reach the entrance, Mingyu holds the door open for you with a flourish. "After you," he says with a grin.

You step inside, greeted by the flashing lights and the vibrant sounds of the arcade. It’s a bit overwhelming at first but then you hear Mingyu’s voice over the noise, full of enthusiasm.

“Let’s see if you can keep up!” Mingyu’s eyes light up the moment he sees a game he’s good at. You follow him, amused, and find yourself standing in front of a claw machine. The giant stuffed animals inside stare down at you, their big eyes unblinking. “I’m warning you now,” Mingyu says, his tone smug. “I’ve got a 100% success rate with these things.”

You roll your eyes. "Is that so? Well, I’m about to prove you wrong."

He grins and hands you some coins. “Sure, but don’t get too upset when I win.”

You laugh, stepping up to the claw machine and starting your attempt. The claw moves clumsily, completely missing the prize.

“See? Told you,” Mingyu teases, already stepping up to take his turn. His fingers hover over the controls, his focus making his brow furrow in concentration. "Watch and learn," he says, as he carefully maneuvers the claw. You can see the way he’s calculating every move, adjusting his grip with precision. With one smooth motion, the claw sinks perfectly into the plush bear's fur, and with a satisfying click, it hoists the stuffed animal up.

You’re left speechless for a moment as Mingyu snatches it from the prize chute, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He holds it out to you, the oversized bear almost comically larger than his own chest.

“Here,” he says, clearly too pleased with himself. “Told you I’d win.”

You take the bear, grinning in defeat. “Fine, you win this round. But I’m getting you back.”

“I’m not worried. Let’s see how you do in the next game.”

The competition continues, the two of you moving from machine to machine. Every game brings another round of teasing, laughter, and playful banter. Mingyu gets so competitive that his voice rises in exaggerated frustration when he loses and you can't help but giggle at how seriously he takes everything. At one point you're both doubled over in laughter, unable to breathe as Mingyu pretends to ‘fall’ into a virtual race car, his arms flailing as he crashes into the walls of the game.

By the end of it, you’re both out of breath and giggling uncontrollably, each sporting a ridiculous grin. You look at the stuffed animal still tucked under your arm and then back at Mingyu. “Guess it’s mine after all,” you say with a sigh, not bothering to hide the smile on your face.

Mingyu just laughs, his arm slipping around your shoulders. “Of course it is. You should know better by now.”

The sun is now setting as you both arrive at the park, the golden hour light casting everything in a warm, soft glow. Mingyu's carrying  a wicker basket in one hand, the other brushing through his hair as he looks for the perfect spot and you just follow, taking in the peaceful scenery.

He drops the basket beside a large, checkered blanket he’s already laid out, smoothing it down with care. There’s something so domestic about the whole setup, so surprisingly perfect. He places a few cushions on the blanket, pulling everything into place as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

As you sit down beside him, he smiles, a little shy. “Okay, here’s the moment of truth.” He opens the basket, revealing containers filled with food like homemade sandwiches, fresh fruit, a small salad, and a few pastries wrapped up neatly. It all looks perfectly arranged, the kind of meal you’d expect from someone who knows what they’re doing.

"You made all this?"

Mingyu nods proudly though there's a trace of nervousness in his expression. “Yep. Every single thing. I might not be a professional, but I can follow a recipe.”

You chuckle, “Well, we’ll see if it’s as good as they look.”

Without hesitation, you grab one of the sandwiches taking a big bite. The flavors hit you immediately—fresh, savory, and not so surprisingly, delicious. Your eyes widen as you chew, momentarily lost in the taste.

Mingyu watches you with a grin, anticipating your reaction. He bites his lip nervously, fingers drumming against the basket as he waits for your verdict.

The bread is perfectly toasted, the filling is perfectly seasoned, and it’s just... good. No surprise there. You’ve had his cooking many, many times by now and every time he manages to make even the simplest things taste like a five-star meal.

You glance up at him as you chew. “Not bad,” you say with a teasing smile though it’s a compliment disguised as a joke. “I’m actually kind of impressed. This is, what, your fiftieth time making me lunch?”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, I’ve got to keep you on your toes, right?” He looks at you with a mix of pride and that shy smile that’s too endearing. “I mean, it’s not that surprising, is it? I’ve been cooking for years.”

A small smile tugging at your lips. "True. You've always been the one to get way too competitive in the kitchen. But really, it's good. It's… annoyingly good, as usual."

He beams pleased by your reaction, “I’m glad you think so,” he says, his voice low and warm. He watches you take another bite before reaching for a small container of fruit. You can see the glint in his eyes like he’s genuinely happy to share something he’s put effort into with you.

Time melts away, the day slipping through your fingers like golden sunlight filtering through the trees. And then, as the sky deepens into hues of pink and orange, Mingyu, reaches into his bag, pulling out a box. He hands it to you, eyes soft but filled. “One more gift,” he says, his voice lower now, savoring this moment just as much as you are.

You carefully lift the lid of the box, your curiosity piqued. Inside are two candles, one shaped like a rotating heart, the other a Rubik’s cube, but with tiny hearts as the pieces. You look at them then up at him, your heart suddenly skipping a beat. 

“I made these,” his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the box. “The heart one… it reminded me of you. And the cube, well…” He lets out a soft chuckle, rubbing his thumb nervously over the box’s edge. “It felt like something I could make, something fun.”

You’re silent for a moment, taking in everything. There’s something about the care he’s put into every detail, the choices he made, the way he looked at you all day, it all makes your heart ache in the best way possible. “You made these?” you ask, your fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the candles, studying the intricate designs. There’s so much attention to detail, so much of him in every inch of them.

Mingyu nods, the corners of his lips curling upward as he watches your reaction. “Yeah. Picked the scents, the colors… everything.” You notice how his fingers twitch at his side, a nervous habit he doesn’t even realize he’s doing. “Do you like them?”

You don’t answer with words instead, you step closer, the soft rustling of the grass beneath barely registering as you close the distance between the two of you. Without a second thought, you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek softly against his chest.

There’s a brief stillness. You feel his breath catch, his heartbeat thumping in the space between you. His arms hesitate for a fraction of a second but, he pulls you closer. His hands find your back, his embrace steady, warm, like it was meant for this moment. He exhales slowly, the tension that had built throughout the day is finally melting away. “Thank you,” you say.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers into your hair, his voice barely a murmur, but full of all the unsaid things between you. His arms tighten around you, and you let yourself sink deeper into his embrace, savoring the quiet, the stillness, and the feeling of being exactly where you’re meant to be.

As the evening unfolds, the last stop of your day is quickly approaching: dinner. But before you can indulge in a fancy meal, Mingyu takes a slight detour.

He glances at you as you both drive toward your dorm. "Let’s stop by your place first. You need to drop off those stuffed animals," he says with a grin, glancing over at the pile of plush toys filling the backseat.

You chuckle, nodding. "Good idea. I’m not sure how much more my arms can handle."

When you arrive, you grab the stuffed animals one by one, making your way into the dorm. Mingyu follows, standing by the door as you carefully place each one in its spot. There’s a chuckle in the air as you look at the growing collection. "You know," you say with a smile, "I’m going to need a bigger bed at this point."

"I'll help you make room," Mingyu says easily, his voice light as he stands in the doorway, watching you. 

Once the stuffed animals are safely tucked away, you both head back to the car, driving to the destination. Arriving at the restaurant, Mingyu opens the door for you, his presence is as attentive as ever. The place is just as elegant as you remembered when you booked it, soft candlelight, a cozy ambiance, and the murmur of other patrons creating the perfect atmosphere for an unforgettable night.

Dinner is everything you could’ve hoped for. The food is exquisite, the conversation flowing naturally between the two of you as if this was just another evening together. There’s no need for pretension, no need to try too hard. Everything feels easy, comfortable, and perfect.

When the check arrives, you reach for your wallet instinctively but Mingyu is already one step ahead. "Nope," he says firmly, his smile still warm and gentle as he pushes your hand away. "I insist. I’m treating you tonight."

You give him a mock pout, raising an eyebrow. "But I was supposed to pay! Remember our deal?"

"I know," he says, his voice a little playful, a little serious. "But you’ve already made this day so special. Let me do this, okay?" His smile grows as he sees the look in your eyes that says, You’re not getting out of this one.

Sighing dramatically but with a fond smile, you relent. "Fine. But next time, it’s on me."

He nods, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips as he settles the bill. As the two of you leave the restaurant, the night feels like it’s already wrapped in a perfect little bow.

By the time you arrive to his place, it feels as if the day has come full circle, every moment leading to this one, this next step, whatever it may be.

Mingyu pulls into the parking spot and without a word, he opens the door for you, his hand brushing yours as you both step out. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes your heart flutter.

As the door closes behind you both, Mingyu sets his suit jacket down, now left only in his black button-down shirt. You, on the other hand, sink into the couch, not sure what to do or say next. It’s 9 p.m., and you’ve got an hour left before you have to return to your dorm. The day has been filled with so much laughter and moments that have made your heart race and now here you are, in his cozy apartment, not quite ready for it to end.

As you sit there lost in your thoughts, you don’t expect what happens next. Mingyu extends his hand toward you, his fingers beckoning in the soft glow of the room inviting you into his space, into his arms. You don’t hesitate for a second, your hand finding his without a second thought, letting him pull you up to your feet. And then he naturally begins to guide you into a slow dance. The music in the background is soft, almost a whisper, but it doesn’t matter as it’s the rhythm of your hearts that sets the pace now.

You take a step forward, your chest brushing gently against his. Mingyu stays perfectly still, like he’s holding his breath, as if afraid to break the spell. There’s a delicate tension between you, a space between your lips that’s filled only with the moment.

Your fingers glide along the collar of his shirt, drawn to him by some unseen force and you lean in just slightly, “You never really told me why you chose lavender.”

Mingyu’s eyes flicker to yours, his gaze soft, intense and filled with a sincerity that makes your heart race a little faster. His hands find their place on your waist but he hesitates for a fraction of a second before pulling you even closer, the heat from his palms burning through the fabric of your sweater, leaving a trace of his warmth on your skin.

His breath is warm against your ear as he speaks, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Because,” he says, his lips grazing your ear, “it reminds me of you… and it's your favourite”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart stuttering in your chest. You didn’t expect him to say something like this, leaving you speechless for a moment. You can feel the room closing in around you, the mood lights casting soft shadows that only make the space between you two feel even more intimate. The world outside feels distant now, irrelevant. All that matters is the way Mingyu holds you, the way he makes everything feel right.

Then in a surprising and tender move, Mingyu slowly sinks to one knee, his gaze never leaving yours. His hands still linger on your waist, steadying himself as he looks up at you with a soft, genuine smile. “I’ve had the best day with you, and I can’t imagine my days without you anymore,” he says, his voice filled, his heart in his eyes. “So... I need to ask you, officially… will you be my girlfriend?”

The room feels even smaller now, the moment so heavy with emotion that it’s almost suffocating in the best way possible. Your breath catches in your throat, your pulse quickening as his words settle in your mind. Your heart swells with joy as you look down at him, knowing that you’ve both come this far, knowing that this is more than just a question. 

“Yes.” The word escapes your lips and as soon as it’s out, Mingyu’s smile stretches wide, that same smile that makes everything around you fade into the background. His eyes sparkle with joy, and you swear it’s like he’s glowing. You can feel a warmth fill your chest, overwhelming.

He stands up, his grin still never faltering and leans in, resting his forehead against yours. There’s no need for words now; the silence between you is thick with meaning, with a thousand unspoken things that only the two of you understand. 

But as the joy of the moment settles in, a sudden realization makes your heart tighten and it feels heavy in your chest. A thought flashes through your mind that makes your throat close up and your chest ache.

You think about how you never really noticed Mingyu. How you were blind to him, how you failed to see him for what he was to you. How, all along, he was there, patient and constant, while you kept pushing him away, thinking he was just a friend. He was the secret admirer you never even considered and he had carried all that weight on his own. He never lashed out. He never got angry. Instead, he waited. He never gave up on you, never turned away, even when you hurt him again and again with your obliviousness. A rush of guilt floods through you. The thought of how much you put him through, how you always doubted yourself thinking he was too good for you, never giving him the chance to show you how much he cared, it makes your heart ache in a way you can’t explain.

“Mingyu,” you murmur, pulling back just slightly so you can look into his eyes, searching for the words to say, what’s been buried inside you for so long. “I need to tell you something.”

He tilts his head, his smile softening as he waits, already knowing something heavy is coming.

“I always liked you,” you admit, the words trembling on your lips, finally finding their way into the open air. “But I never came to terms with it, because I was scared. I was scared that if I let myself believe it, it would only end in disappointment. You’re… you’re so out of my league, Mingyu. You’re the kind of person every woman dreams of. And me? I’m just lucky to be one of your closest friends. I didn’t want to push my luck, to ask for more.” You take a breath, “I never thought you’d choose me. I never thought I could be more than just your friend. But then you were always so kind, so patient with me even when I didn’t see it. You carried all of that on your own and I’m sorry for that. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known what was right in front of me. And if you never confessed, I might’ve never been able to say this to you… but I like you, Mingyu. I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

The moment you finish, everything feels still. His eyes widen, his lips part slightly but he doesn’t speak and neither do you. It’s like time has frozen and all you can do is stand there, your heart racing, waiting for him to process what you’ve said. The silence is deafening and yet it’s comforting, because it feels like this is the most real thing you’ve ever said.

Mingyu stands still for a moment, his hand still resting lightly on your waist and then slowly, his expression changes. “I don’t want you to ever doubt yourself,” he finally says. “You’re everything I could ever want, and more. I didn’t care about being the man of every woman’s dreams, because all I ever wanted was you.” He lifts his hand to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “I waited because I knew it would be worth it,” he adds, his eyes never leaving yours. “And now, I’m just… so glad I did.”

Tears prick at your eyes as the full weight of his words hits you, and before you can stop them, a tear slips down your cheek. Mingyu wipes it away kindly, his smile full of so much love that it nearly breaks you.

“You never hurt me, you know,” he says lovingly, “because I knew we’d get here eventually. And now, all I want is for you to know that I’m here. Always here for you no matter what happens.”

Mingyu doesn't like you, but loves you, more than you ever thought possible. He'd never needed anyone else because all along, you were enough. No one else could compare to you in his eyes. The thought of being with anyone else never crossed his mind, because it was always you.

You tiptoe and press a soft kiss on his lips, an apology for the past misunderstandings, a rush of emotions fills your chest. You pull away but before you can even fully pull back, his hands are already on your waist, drawing you back to him. His lips find yours again, this time with a hunger that makes your stomach flip, a desperation that feels almost uncontainable. His kiss is deep, slow, and deliberate and the weight of it is enough to knock the breath out of you. "Mingyu..." you murmur against his lips, your body melting into his warmth. His grip tightens ever so slightly, his body stiffening in worry. He pulls away, chest heaving with shallow breaths. His voice is laced with uncertainty though it trembles with desire.

"Tell me to stop," he says, low and unsteady, "And I will."

For a moment you just look at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. But there's nothing. His love for you is written in every inch of him, in the way his fingers gently graze your cheek, in the way his breath catches when you shift closer.

You lean in again, closing the space between you. The moment your lips meet, he kisses you slow, deep and it makes your heart race. His hand moves from your cheek to your back, pulling you flush against him and you can feel every beat of his heart against yours. There's nothing hurried about it, just slow, careful movements that send sparks flying in your veins making you feel like you're floating. Everything is perfectly, wonderfully right.

He knows that this time, you see him. This time you see the admirer is right in front of you.

-

“To the one who has always been right in front of me,

I used to write these letters with the hope that one day, you’d realize it was me. That somehow, my words would reach you before I had to say them out loud. But today, I don’t need to hide behind words anymore.

You know me now—not just as the admirer, but as Mingyu. And I know you, not as someone I can only love from afar, but as someone who chose me back. Still, I wanted to write this—one last letter, not as a confession, but as a promise. A promise that I’ll keep looking at you the way I always have. That I’ll love you not just in grand gestures, but in the small moments too, the ones where love isn’t loud, but it’s there, steady and certain.

So here. This time, I’m not slipping it into a locker or leaving it on a table. I’m giving it to you with my own hands, looking right at you, so you know—this has always been real.

Yours, always.

— Mingyu”

Lee Y/N @y/nisnot_sleeping · 1h  

Been mine for a while now…

♡ 4        🔁 -      🗨️ 4

Boo @americano_.boo · 57m

Replying to @y/nisnot_sleeping  

Did you just ditch us for THIS ?¡?%&!? 

♡ 2        🔁 -      🗨️ 1

yoon ★ @yjh1004 · 49m  

Replying to @y/nisnot_sleeping  

Finally!!!!

♡ 3        🔁 -      🗨️ -

Chan @dinonaras.ltd · 45m  

Replying to @y/nisnot_sleeping  

🫢🫢🫢

♡ 2        🔁 -      🗨️ -

Chan @dinonaras.ltd · 44m  

Replying to @americano_.boo  

where is @horang_m_a_n ?? crying in the corner because the investigation flopped?

♡ -        🔁 -      🗨️ -

⌦ 💌 © mylovesstuffs | est. 2025. thank you for reading—your reblog means everything. until we meet again, stay cozy and keep dreaming! ◜ᴗ◝

[vernonverse]

📲 Raising Us | wonwoo x f!reader | smau

Paring: wonwoo x f!reader. Genre | tags: smau, series, non idol!au, best friends (idiots) to lovers, unexpected pregnancy, slow burn, angst, pinning, fluff, humor/comedy. Warnings: Suggestive, pregnancy, teenage pregnancy, teen parents, swearing, alcohol consumption, a lot of teasing, and I'll add more throughout the story.

Summary: On the night of your eighteenth birthday, you and Wonwoo made a pact to lose your virginities together. Ten years later you're co-parenting your unexpected child while figuring out where you stand with each other.

A/N: (1) First and most important, it's a pregnancy related smau, so obviously topics that are prohibited for minors will be addressed, so I would feel more comfortable if minors didn't interact. (2) This smau will take place over the course of 10 years. (3) I had no intention of posting this now, but with the enlistment announcement, I felt it was the right time in an attempt to bring comfort to the hearts of all my wonwoorideul sisters.

Updates: Tuesdays and fridays.

Status: on-going.

Taglist

01 – the first nine months

02 – the first year ⤷ 001 002 003

03 – the second year ⤷ 001 002 003

04 – the third year ⤷ 001 002

05 – 1461 days

— more to be added.

― EXTRAS:

🢒 the one where the baby's late 🢒 the one where their future is discussed 🢒 the one where you're hiding in the bathroom 🢒 the one where you're not jealous 🢒 the one where wonwoo's drunk

©VERNONVERSE. I do not condone reposting, plagiarizing or translating my work in any form.

[ariellaa-xoxo]

SEVENTEEN members as dad

(Seventeen parents trope AU!!):

[To celebrate my 100 followers...thank you to all those who decided to follow my blog. I do not write myself but I hopefully can help you readers find good SVT fics to read through...stay tuned!!]

(Link to my recommendation MASTERLIST)

(✨ = indicates personal favorites)

All Members (ot13) :

Seventeen as dads by @sushis-wild-imagination

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

🧸CHOI SEUNGCHOL / S.COUPS :

Crossing Boundaries by @wonusite ✨

Kidult by @hoeforhao

Somebody by @onlymingyus ✨

just one more by @misotsukiiyeooo

Fallen From Grace :Into your Arms by @tusswrites ✨

daddy's home by @taeyongdoyoung

Green Beans by @hyperdramas

2 years of trying by @straylightdream

dilf! Cheol by @hoshifighting

🧸YOON JEONGHAN :

peaceful morning by @wonwootattoo

People You Know by @leechanpremacy

angels like you by @sleeping-sirens

Adore You by @honeyhae-svt

thursday's child has far to go by @twogyuu

🧸HONG JISOO / JOSHUA :

distracted by @eomayas ✨

Snowflakes @ dawn by @brownsugarbaybee ✨

chasing pavements by @eomayas

made with love by @icyminghao

🧸MOON JUNHUI :

balloons and homemade cards by @junekissed

happy ending by @junekissed

🧸KWON SOONYOUNG / HOSHI :

Let Me Try Again by @papermatisse ✨

🧸JEON WONWOO :

First Snow by @onlymingyus ✨

attention by @tomodachiii

nothing new (series) by @wonwootattoo ✨

girl dad wonwoo by @simpxxstan

bun in the oven by @tusswrites

(part 1) (part 2)

🧸LEE JIHOON / WOOZI :

One more day by @cherriegyuu ✨

I want to write you a song by @onlymingyus

🧸XU MINGHAO / THE8 :

always be my baby by @pantherxrogers

🧸KIM MINGYU :

Hallmark Moment by @onlymingyus ✨

healing comes in small doses (series) by @tomodachiii

Chill Dad by @thedensworld

Thicker Than Blood by @thedensworld

🧸LEE SEOKMIN / DOKYEOM :

I'll see you there tomorrow by @hyperdramas

the parenting handbook by @milfgyuu

Where you're convenient (II) by @miabebe ✨

🧸BOO SEUNGKWAN :

it isn't you by @simpxxstan ✨

🧸CHOI HANSOL / VERNON :

cold hands, warm hearts by @duhnova

🧸LEE CHAN / DINO :

baby blues by @pepperonidk

🐻**95 line x afab!!reader (with the maknae line as their children)

ah! Love by @thepixelelf ✨

have a good day reader ~

[junimosity]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆Stirring Skyscrapers⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

pairing: HarveyxAFAB!Reader

summary: after a rockslide blocks the road back to stardew valley, you find yourself stuck in zuzu city for the weekend. luckily for you, you weren't the only one at the bus stop.

w.c: 5.8k

warnings: 18+ (MDNI), suggestive content, harvey smokes a cigarette, farmer smokes a cigarette, everybody smokes a cigarette!, the most self indulgent thing ever because i need a night at the club with a cutie like harvey fr, harvey gets a little bullied by his medical colleagues, mentions of alcohol, mostly fluff w a bit of angst and once again, a hint of something more.

divider by @saradika-graphics

The clacking of your suitcase against the cracks of the city pavement rang in your ears as you dashed to the empty bus stop ahead. You didn’t have a chance to curse yourself as you ran, bags threatening to slide off your shoulders amidst the race to catch the last bus back to Stardew Valley. All you could spare was a quick glance at your watch, one minute before the scheduled departure at 6:30. 

You could’ve technically avoided this if you’d left your hotel a little earlier; there was a bus in the morning that you’d slept in long past, waking up just in time to check out of your room. You’d spent the rest of the day waiting around in a café and bookstore, losing track of the time the moment you’d opened a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. It was a great unwinding after an eventful weekend away from the farm, filled with visiting distant family and their friends at your dad’s cousin’s wedding. The exhaustion from it was evident as you huffed down the street.

The bus was nowhere in sight, letting you slow your pace as you finished the last stretch of the sidewalk. The LED sign flickered above the little pavilion, its rolling text becoming clearer as you walked up to the edge of it. 

“CANCELLED - ROAD CONDITIONS - ROCKSLIDE AT HWY 783 TO STARDEW VALLEY”

“What!?” you let out a gasp, trying to catch your breath as the text rolled back around. Somehow, within your journey from the hotel, subway, and bus stop, something went wrong. Curse you for shoving your phone in the depths of your purse, unable to read any notifications. You sighed again, head hanging with a dramatic drop as you heaved in a few calming breaths. 

Stranded in the city, all on your own. Your mind racked as you weighed the options of finding a place to stay for the night, sliding over tiredly to the seats beneath the bus stop. You were about to plop down when you noticed a figure, slumped back against the plexiglass with their arms crossed, a worn leather briefcase at their feet. 

“Doctor Harvey?” you spoke. He startled- accidentally kicking his briefcase into your suitcase, sending it rolling a few feet. You watched it roll with mild surprise, looking back to find Harvey collecting himself, checking his pockets frantically before sighing, looking up to see your expression. He fixed his glasses a little, blinking a few times before cocking his head to the side. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked quietly, a smile breaking over his formerly worried look. “What are you doing here?” His expression turned shocked again as he remembered where exactly here was, standing quickly as he looked at the LED sign. 

“I was in town for a wedding,” you answered, looking at the sign again as you heard him huff out a grunt of disappointment before correcting yourself. “Am in town, I guess. What about you?”

“I was at a healthcare conference. A med-school buddy of mine was a guest speaker and he got me a room for the weekend. Oh,” he snapped himself out of his stupor, grabbing his phone from his back pocket and shooting out a frantic text. “He may be able to get my room back, I checked out a day early.” 

“That’s good,” you responded, contorting your mouth a little before digging through your purse, finding your phone and sending out a text to your dad. 

hey, there's a rockslide blocking the highway, bus was cancelled. is there any way I can stay at the hotel another night??

You shoved your phone into your pocket this time before looking to find Harvey do the same, the both of you locking eyes for a moment before he found his briefcase against your astray luggage. 

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry,” He almost leapt over, grabbing both bags before turning back to you. “Are you going back to the city?”

“Uh, yeah, guess I’ll have to.”

“Alright, shall we?” Harvey began to roll your suitcase, leading you both back on the path to the subway station. You obliged without question, grateful to have a hand to hold your purse and backpack up. “A wedding, huh?”

“Yeah, my dad’s cousin. Distant family and all that. Nice excuse to get away from the field though.”

“I can imagine it gets a little overwhelming this time of year. Did you have a nice time?”

“I, uh, I find it a bit hard to get along with some of the folks on my dad’s side. What about you, though? Was the conference fun?”

“Ehh,” Harvey honestly said over the sound of your suitcase. “I also find it a bit hard to get along with some of the city doctors. My friend is a neurosurgeon at Zuzu General, so I found myself a little over my head when it came down to it.”

“Wow, a neurosurgeon, huh? You’ve got friends in high places.” 

“It would seem that way. Ah, just a moment,” he stopped, balancing your overloaded suitcase with his leg as he whipped out his phone, pinging with a series of texts. Unlocking it with his index finger like an old man, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, he filtered through the messages. “Ah, fantastic. Hotel hadn’t even realized I’d left.”

“Thank goodness,” you breathed, checking your own phone to see a lack of response from your dad. “Hey, this may be a weird question to ask, and you totally don’t have to say yes, but could I put my bags in your hotel room for a bit? I haven’t heard back from my family if I can get my room back yet and I don’t want to lose my stuff…”

“Of course! Harvey responded, already moving back to the subway. “I’m staying just a few stops north of here on the blue line. You good to take the train?” 

“Perfectly fine!” You relaxed, following after him with a bit of pep in your step. “Thank you so, so much.”

“Don’t worry about it, us out of towners have to stick together.”

“You know I'm from Zuzu City, right?” You laughed as you entered the station, a mild bustle as the weekend evening began to come alive. 

“That’s right!” Harvey responded, fumbling with his wallet for his temporary metrocard as you whipped out your hard plastic one. Scanning at the same time, you pushed through, Harvey sliding your suitcase a little awkwardly as he tried to fit through with it. “You probably know the city better than I do. I haven’t spent much time here since med school.”

“It’s changed a fair bit since I’ve left. Though I do wonder if some of my favorite places are still around.” The two of you crammed into an elevator with your bag and a few other folks, the conversation quieting until you arrived at the platform level, the both of you scurrying to hop on the train car before its doors closed, and headed off back into the heart of the city. 

--

“High places indeed,” you breathed, looking up at the towering hotel Harvey was residing in. It was in the smack damn center of the city, towering over the old buildings and many other skyscrapers like it. 

Harvey laughed a little nervously, walking into the hotel and wheeling up to the front desk, you trailing behind him closely. He began to speak with the desk clerk, explaining the situation and needing a new card, as you turned around and took in the grand lobby. The ceiling, at least ten floors up, had a gigantic warm chandelier hanging, illuminating the elevators that disappeared far past where the lobby’s center ended. Finely dressed people moved around you, some shaking hands or drinking at the large, dimly lit bar, others conversing with affiliates and investors. You brought your hand across your torso, suddenly aware of how you were presented alongside Harvey. 

“Of course, doctor,” the clerk said, quickly typing away before scanning two cards, handing them to him in a little sleeve. “Do you need help with your bags?”

“No, we’re alright, thank you.” Harvey confirmed before turning back to you with a smile. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” you beckoned him, Harvey nodding before setting off to the glass elevators with your bag in hand. Walking into the first available one, you looked out, taking in a little breath as the elevator began to zip up hastily. Light flashed over your face as you broke into the next section of the hotel. “What floor are you on?”

“Fiftieth, “ Harvey sputtered, urging you to turn to see him almost pressed up against the doors, facing the wall instead of the overlook. 

“Oh, right,” you moved to him, patting a comforting hand on his shoulder as you felt the elevator slow, standing next to him up against the door. He looked over at you slightly, unsure and ungrounded, letting loose a little breath to see you right beside him with a smile. 

“Here we are,” he loosened a little, stepping out onto the floor the moment the door gave enough way for the width of his leg. You followed him again, curving around the side of the building until you reached a room at the end of a hall. He scanned the key quickly, opening the door for you to walk in ahead of him. 

You gasped immediately, letting out a laugh of disbelief. 

In all your years in the city, you’d never seen such a thorough view of your hometown. His room was on the corner of the building, two walls entirely made of floor to ceiling windows, a modern king sized bed taking up the entire center of the room. You dropped your bags as you approached the window, hands falling behind your back so as not to touch the glass. You could see the street below, cars and people moving like the minnows in the river back in the valley. From up here, the two places seemed almost equally peaceful. 

Harvey didn’t dare approach nearly as close to the window as you, instead lifting his briefcase onto the side of the bed and taking a seat. 

“Neurosurgeons sure have an interesting way of helping out a friend,” you spoke, nearly pressing your cheek up against the window to try and see the neighborhood you lived in before. 

“It’s definitely a change of pace,” He laughed as you flashed your head the other way, looking to try and find the mountain peak from the valley that overlooked the city. You couldn’t see past the immense light pollution, but it brought you a sense of peace knowing it was there. You didn’t look back as you heard his phone start ringing, only flashing him a nod when he excused himself to the other side of the room to take the call. 

“Hey, Dave,” he said giddily, “Yeah, I made it back. Funniest thing, I ran into one of my close friends from the Valley at the bus stop-” you could hear his friend cut him off before he continued. “Yeah, yeah, she’s a patient, I mean, everyone there is,” his voice trailed off, a hint of defeat sounding. You turned around to find him running a hand over his mustache anxiously. 

“Sure, of course, thank you! I’ll see you in a bit.” He hung up, sucking his lips in for a moment before coming back to your side of the room. “Dave’s- my friend from college- Dave’s invited us for dinner at a place down the street from here, on him.”

“Oh! That’s certainly generous,” you guffawed. 

“He’s, uh, he’s kinda just like that. Would you like to join?”

“Of course, I don’t really have anything else to wear except the dress I brought for the wedding…” you trailed off, looking down at your rather casual clothes, jeans and a light jacket with some pretty basic boots. 

“I’ve pretty much just got the clothes on my back,” Harvey coincided and gestured to himself, wearing the same green coat and red tie you correlated directly to his image. “Besides, you look quite nice.”

You laughed at him, even his regular clothes looking a significant step nicer than yours. Waving him off, you grabbed for your purse and headed to the door, holding it open for him as he grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone, giving you a goofy bow as he passed you. 

You stood right next to him again on the elevator ride down, letting him step out first as he quickly found his long time friend, clad in a fine tailored sports jacket, loitering beneath the behemoth chandelier. 

“Harv!” He called out, grabbing Harvey’s hand and landed a pat on his back. “I’m glad you didn’t get to run off without me getting to see you outside of the conference. And this must be?” Dave gestured to you, your hand firmly gripping his in a precise handshake. 

“(Y/N), I’m a good friend of Harvey’s.”

“Whoa there,” Dave flexed his hand, looking at Harvey with a laugh as he shook it. “Mighty handshake for such a sweet young thing.”

Your stomach recoiled as you forced out a polite laugh, teeth baring in a creepy smile. 

Harvey mimicked your laugh, Dave’s behavior clearly unexpected. 

“(Y/N) here is our local farmer. She provides the entire valley with a majority of our food.”

“Oh, so it was you that- oh, I’ve heard about you before!” Dave cut himself off, shaking a finger at you. “C’mon, I’ve got a reservation just down the block.”

Dave quite literally yapped at the two of you as you made the short trek down the street and around a corner, ducking into a dark spot beneath some very clean burgundy awnings. 

“You’re gonna love this place, it’s super neat, excellent wine menu and the staff and I are super familiar-”

“(Y/N)?!” A voice called out as soon as you broke the threshold inside. Dave stepped back, revealing the hostess at the front, beaming right at you. “My Yoba! It’s you!”

“Stephanie?” You tilted your head, lunging forward to give your old colleague a hug. “It’s been years, how are you? How are the kids? Eli?” 

“Oh, they’re all good, so much better since Eli made a deposit on this place. We were able to get the kids into better schools, and I was able to leave Joja,”

“This place is yours?” You beamed, placing your hands on her shoulders. “You guys really did it! Bordeaux and Burgundy pouring from the bannisters, right?” 

“Just about! It’s been a whirlwind-”

“Ahem, Yeah, reservation for a Doctor MacMahan?” Dave tapped at the host stand, looking back at Harvey with a bewildered look that he didn’t replicate. 

“Oh, yeah, sure…” Stephanie broke away, “uh, I don’t see you on here, Doctor McAllen,”

“McMahan,” Dave corrected. 

“Not to worry, for you (Y/N), the best seat in the house. Right this way,” Stephanie led your entourage to the back, Dave cutting you off to be first to the curved booth. You fell a little as he pushed forward, feeling Harvey’s hand against your back to keep you propped up. You smiled at him sheepishly before shuffling into the booth, finding yourself in the middle of the two old friends. 

“We’ve got a couple of reservations coming in later, so I might not be able to sit and chat with you. Do you still have the same number?”

“I sure do!” You responded, grabbing the menus from her hands and placing them in front of your party. 

“I’d love to come and visit your farm sometime. You’ve impressed us back here in the city, and we’d love to expand our wine list to include some local growers.”

“It would be an honor, Steph. Don’t worry about us here, enjoy your shift!”

Stephanie shot you a wink before heading back to the front, just in time to greet a new customer. 

“So, you used to work for Joja?” Dave began, tucking his napkin into his well-ironed shirt. “How’d you end up slumming it in the boonies?”

“My grandfather left me his farm after he passed,” you responded politely, electing to ignore the choice of words as Harvey began to pour water into your cups from the crystal carafe on the table.

“She’s got a pretty insane production out there. Acres and acres of diversified vegetables, the happiest animals, not to mention the vineyard and flowers,” Harvey began, making you blush a little at the sudden praise. 

“Yeah, yeah, about that,” Dave cut him off. “Aren’t you the one who ended up damaging Joja’s reputation on the coast? I’ve heard they’ve closed, like, three or four major supermarkets.”

“I wouldn’t say I instigated the boycott, but a boycott did take place. I supply most of the food to the community these days, working with some small scale suppliers. Our town, Pelican Town, has a pretty neat general store. It’s actually right next to Harvey’s clinic.”

“Ah, the clinic. Couldn’t catch me dead in one of those,” Dave joked, filtering through the wine list. “What would you guys say about a red? I’m feeling Tempranillo or”

“Harvey’s clinic is state of the art, you know,” you spoke up with a little bite, eyeing the menu yourself just as a server came by. “Harvey, red?”

“Yes, please,” he responded sheepishly. 

“We’ll take a bottle of the Cabernet,” Dave pointed at the menu, almost shoving it in the server’s face. The server nodded and quickly darted off, rolling his eyes as Dave returned his focus to you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it's pretty nice for being in the middle of the mountains. Nothing like our intern days at Zuzu Gen, eh, Harv?” Dave laughed. Harvey laughed as well, and you got a pretty damn clear vision of what their near double decade dynamic looked like. 

“Can’t argue with that,” Harvey laughed, taking a sip of his water. 

“Ever been to Zuzu General, sweetheart?” Dave asked, making Harvey choke on his water. You turned to him quickly, patting him on the back as he wiped his mouth, using the opportunity to grit your teeth together without Dave seeing. 

“Yes, on multiple occasions. I grew up here.” 

“Oh!” Dave called out, leaning his elbows on the table as the server returned with the bottle and stemware. “I had no idea, where’d you live?”

“The East side of the city, here and there.”

“Man, East?” Dave laughed again, taking a sip of his glass before the server had a chance to finish pouring. “I don’t think I’ve ever been further east than the high street.”

“I can tell,” you muttered, eyeing a thank you to the server before grabbing your glass.

“Yeah, it’s hard to not kinda exude class out here. Speaking of, Harv, did you hear? Emma Thomas, from our third year? She got knocked up by some construction worker and had to leave the practice. She’s gonna be poor for life.”

“You mean her husband Leonard? They were dating when we were in school, man.” Harvey reached for his own cup, looking into the swirling liquid with an uncomfortable glare you weren’t sure you’d seen on him before. 

“Really? How’d you remember that?” Dave sat back, his legs spreading to push yours over to Harveys. Your eyes flashed another glance at Harvey, his uncomfortability turning into something a little more somber. “Anyway, she totally lost the pediatric surgery gig she had lined up for her.”

“Didn’t she want to be just a pediatric physician anyway?” Harvey countered again. 

“Who the hell would choose being a physician over a surgeon?!” Dave bolstered, Harvey shrinking in his seat. 

“I don’t even know the difference between the two,” you lied, hoping to take the pressure off of Harvey. “Can you explain it to me?”

“Aw, poor thing, a regular physician can’t perform surgeries, just diagnose and treat illnesses and injuries.”

“Okay, but can surgeons become physicians and still hold their license?”

“Well, technically a surgeon is a type of physician…”

“Oh, so why did you say that?”

“Say what?”

“Ask why anyone would become a physician instead. You’re a physician.”

Dave blinked at you, looking over to Harvey to find him reading the food menu very intently. 

“Get the ‘nduja fettuccine, Harvey. I’ve had Eli’s cooking before. It’s gonna blow you away,” you told Harvey, pointing to it on the menu. “It’ll pair great with the Cabernet.”

“You sure know your wine,” Dave spoke, a little softer than before. 

“I have a vineyard, so it comes with the job.”

“Oh, right. Where do you sell your grapes to?”

“I don’t,” you responded, sipping at your wine without looking at him. 

“What, you mean you operate a winery alongside all that other stuff?”

“I told you the production was insane,” Harvey sighed, placing his menu down. “She does it all herself, too.” 

“Yeah, and I’m the chief of surgery,” Dave laughed into his cup before snapping his fingers in the air, the poor server making his way back to your table. “We’ll take the arancini for the table, I’ll have the new york strip, he’ll take the endooy- indie…”

“‘Nduja pasta,” you corrected. 

“Right, and she’ll take the… uh, what did you want sweetheart?”

“I’ll have the Lamb Ragu, please,” you spoke directly to the waiter, grabbing the menu from Harvey and stacking it with yours, handing it to the server. 

“Man, you have some good taste. Didn’t think they had folks like you outside of the city.”

“I’m not from outside of the city, am I?” You smiled fictitiously. “Besides, some of the most interesting figures I’ve met have been in the valley.” 

“Oh, I’m sure they’re interesting for sure, but actually cool?” He laughed again. “I mean, Harv is pretty interesting.”

Your jaw dropped at the evident jab, Harvey adjusting his seat uncomfortably. 

“Harvey’s the coolest person in the valley,” you seethed mildly, truly only holding it together for his sake. 

“Yikes,” Dave gave a wry face as he finished his glass dry. Your hand almost slammed to the top of the table, instead opting to grip itself into a fist below the tablecloth. A gentle brush of his fingers has you looking over to Harvey, offering you a sorry smile. Bless him; he was trying so hard to avoid conflict, an apparently fifteen year long battle in the making. Your expression softened as you smiled back at him. 

“Say, where do you live now, Dave? Northside?”

“How’d you know?” He questioned light heartedly as he poured another glass. 

“Gut feeling. Super nice area, up there. Been there long?”

“Just about my whole life. It’s a lovely community.”

“My dad considered retiring up there. He’s working out of the city these days but wants to move back soon.”

“I’d tell him to do it sooner than later, housing markets are gonna be crazy come springtime. I always say-” you zoned out immediately, Dave talking into the ether. Harvey let out a silent sigh, looking at you with a pleading thankfulness. You winked at him, letting Dave go crazy over the housing market until the food came and went.

Wiping your mouth, you placed your napkin onto the table, Harvey following suit as Dave still worked on his steak. 

“And that’s why I always say go crazy when the property taxes reflect it. Say, have you considered selling the farm out to developers?”

You blinked, snapped back into the Dave portal. 

“Oh, Yoba knows I’d be long dead before I’d do something that stupid.” 

“You be stupid not to! That much acreage could get you a nice home on the northside.”

“I already have a nice home, with the acreage.”

“Yeah, but it’s in that shithole of a coastal town.”

“Have you even been to Pelican Town, Dave?” Harvey piped up, unable to keep himself quiet after having a good third of the generous bottle. 

“Hah, you’d have to drag me by my ears. Besides, you really should sell. Since Joja went out of business out there, competitors have been trying to get a grasp on some land to expand and capitalize off of their absence.” 

“I think that’s the exact opposite of (Y/N)’s intentions,” Harvey continued.

“I mean, you’d have such an easy life. Don’t you feel you’re wasting it away? Such a pretty thing like you, outside all day, when you could be in a nice house taking care of a-”

“Shut the fuck up, Dave,” Harvey stood, hands slamming on the table. “Don’t you say another fucking thing about her.”

“Harvey?” you started, whiplashed by the sudden display. 

“Stardew Valley is fucking beautiful. (Y/N)’s farm is beautiful, and her hard work created an unprecedented lack of reliance on corporations for small town Ferngill. She’s supported our and countless other communities in a way you and your egregious self-righteousness couldn’t even fathom.”

“What the hell, Harv?” Dave slurred, “She got you by the balls or something?”

With a deep breath, Harvey walked over to the other side of the booth, recoiled his fist, and punched his longest friend square in the jaw. Straightening out his jacket’s sleeves, he headed out the door. You slid out of the booth quickly, following behind and yelling over your shoulder.

“Thanks for the meal, Dave!” 

You found Harvey on the sidewalk, fists clenched at his sides, waiting for you to join him. 

“Harvey!” You called out as you pushed through the door, stopping just behind his tense figure. “Are you okay?”

He turned to you, his eyes slightly watery. Your heart clenched as his expression of simmering rage turned unbelievably sad. 

“Is that why you checked out a day early?”

“I-” Harvey couldn’t speak, lip trembling as he tried to hold back. 

“Hey, c’mere,” you grabbed his hands, inspecting the fist he dealt the blow with. Untouched, but probably sore. He landed the hit with great form. “Let’s get out of here.”

You lead him down the street, across a few crosswalks and making turns here and there, until the financial district faded into a bustling club scene.

“Wait here and take a few breaths,” you instructed as you ducked into an off-license convenience store, coming back out to find him cooling down. Ripping at a piece of plastic in your hands, Harvey looked over to you, slapping a pack of something against the heel of your palm-

“Shit, can I have one?” He moved towards you, making you chuckle as you took two out.  

“Ah, I forgot to buy a light- oh” Harvey whipped out a lighter from his coat before you could finish your thought, bringing it up to your mouth. He lit his own with the same flame, a stern look on his very close face. 

Breaking away to take a drag, you watched him closely. Not a cough. 

“How many times have I seen you tell off Sebastian for smoking outside the saloon?”

“What can I say, doctors rarely follow their own advice,” he took another drag, the smoke piling around his mouth before letting out a long exhale. 

“I’m so sorry, Harvey.”

He shook his head, flicking some ash from the cigarette. 

“Do you wanna go back to your hotel? I can try and call my dad to sort-”

“No, no, not yet.”

You smiled with an essence of a grimace, unsure of what to do with your friend in his state. Looking around at the bars and clubs lining the street, you found your eye catching on one far in the corner, music thumping out into the road. You hadn’t seen it in years, the last time you’d gone in long wiped from memory.

“Do you wanna dance?” You gave it a shot, turning back to Harvey. He calculated for a moment, taking another long drag before nodding sharply. 

“What the hell, sure.”

Shocked, and a little excited, you grabbed his hand and led him to the club. 

ID’s and coats checked, you led Harvey down the stairs into the basement, the city lights becoming overwhelmed by the flashes of blues, oranges, and pinks, smoke machine dusting out from a DJ booth in the back. It was already semi-busy, a few spots open at the bar. 

“Do you wanna-”

“Yes, I do,” he finished for you, loosening his tie as you both approached the bartop. 

One shot down, you two chatted, having to almost yell at each other over the music. Second shot, he was finally ready to really talk.

“He’s always been a dick,” he said after wincing and wiping a spare drip of tequila from his chin. 

“I want to say I’m surprised, but I don’t fancy myself a liar,” you responded honestly, leaning one arm atop the bar. “Has he always been awful to you in particular?”

“I mean,” Harvey began, trying to rack through his memories for a single good time. He brushed a hand through his well kept hair, fluffing it out as he shook his head. “Yeah, I guess he has. You don’t need me to tell you that I’m not the most confident guy. I think he liked that and clung to me.”

“Doesn’t take a psychologist to tell. I can’t imagine how long he’s been treating you like shit… It’s probably too late for me to say but please don’t take it to heart.”

“He’s kind of right, though. What kind of person gives up a life of luxury to barely hold together a clinic in a small town? What kind of guy am I for that?” He asked no one in particular.

“Harvey!” You pushed his shoulder. “You’re the kind of guy who cares deeply about your patients. You do everything for them, without a penthouse in mind. You are the kind of doctor everyone on this planet deserves.”

“Hmmph,” he responded, disbelief and insecurity plaguing his disheveled self. 

“I mean it, Harvey,” you held the shoulder you pushed, making him look at you. “We are so, so lucky to have you in Pelican Town. How many times have you helped me out alone? Harvey, you’ve gone into the mines to find me. I guarantee you there’s not a single doctor in this city who would put themselves on the line the way you do. Please,” you almost begged him. “I need you to know that.”

Harvey’s gaze softened and he let out a sigh. When was the last time he’d been spoken of in such a way? Has anyone ever said something that kind to his face, or about him at all?

“Look, let’s not just stand here and drink. C’mon,” you pulled him by his tie and dragged him onto the dancefloor, Harvey stumbling to catch up with you. 

Yoba, when was the last time he’d danced? 

Going to the club in med school was almost impossible- he was always devout in his studies, and the few times he went, it just ended with him getting stranded when Dave would inevitably end up going home with someone. 

You grabbed his hands, forcing them into the air as music played out a good few decibels more than he would recommend his patients to handle. It was a little comforting, though- the way the bass reverberated through his chest, the cool feeling of the smoke machine billowing against his infrequently exposed collar bone. 

“C’mon!” you cheered, swaying and stepping to the beat. Oh, he could tell you’d been here before. It took you a moment, but you quickly conformed to the rhythm of the song he’d never heard, feet moving freely and arms finding their way above your head. He let out a little laugh, looking down as he haphazardly submitted to letting his arms up. He moved to the side a little, clearly out of his element, but a ginormous smile broke on his face as you cheered him on. 

He let loose quickly, rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt, earning a few ‘go white boy go’s before you pulled his tie from his neck up to the top of his head, the both of you laughing with childish glee as you tightened it around his temples. The two of you danced for a whole set before the DJ took a break, music easing a little for you guys to return to the bar. 

“Didn’t know you had the moves, doc,” you panted as Harvey ordered another round of shots.

“Didn’t know you had the stamina!” He puffed roughly, clinking his shot glass with yours and slamming it on the bartop before taking it back, just as smoothly as you this time. 

“I had my days, for sure!” you laughed, fingertips grazing his shoulder. “I really meant what I said before, Harvey.”

He rolled his neck, bringing a hand up to rub at the muscle peeking from his sweat-dampened collar. 

“I believe you, " he responded loosely and loudly, licking the shot glass’s salt from his lips. “I just don’t hear it much.”

“Then I’ll tell you every day until you can say otherwise,” you soothed, breaking your gaze away from his and tapping your fingers atop the bar. He sighed sharply, alleviating an unknown pressure from his chest at your openness to care for him. 

“Have you heard back from your dad?” He spoke abruptly, your eyes widening with a flash of sudden fear as you scrambled for your phone. You shrunk a little at the empty screen, the time flashing on your face as you shook your head no. You bit your lip, unwilling to ask what you knew you had to.

“The answer’s yes, of course,” Harvey slid a hand up your arm, rubbing a small circle in your skin. “You think I’d let you stay anywhere else after seeing how excited the view made you?” 

You met his eyes quickly, mouth agape at the offer. 

“Are you sure? There’s only the one bed, I couldn’t possibly imp-”

“You could never,” he finished for you quietly, an earnest look on his face. 

You opened your mouth to respond until you heard the music pick back up, the DJ selecting one of your favorite songs, pulling you out of the moment as you mouthed a “oh!”

“Go ahead, I’m gonna have another drink.” Harvey beckoned you back to the dancefloor, you shooting him a thanking gaze as he stayed back. Another shot of tequila found its way by his hand, the bartender sliding it to him free of charge with a grin. 

“You’re gonna need it,” he said before helping another clubgoer, Harvey smiling in return before finding you with his eyes. Hands in the air, head flipping to the side and your hair flying, illuminated by the brilliant colors of the lights, smoke clouding you in compliment instead of haze. The world slowed as he took the final shot, your image becoming clearer than ever before. 

Tonight, beneath the stirring skyscrapers and bustling bodies, Harvey could feel the shift between you two. He hoped you had as well, but as you looked to him from the dancefloor with heavy eyes, that hope shifted into intuition. Faith, even. Even if just in his dreams, the two of you had a night and a half ahead. Heeding the bartender's warning, he leapt away from the bar to join you. 

[junimosity]

｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆Frostbitten｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

pairing: Harvey x F!Reader

summary: amidst a nasty winter storm, Harvey has to make a home visit on his birthday when his car breaks down. he finds his way from the highway to your farm where you take him in and warm him up

w.c: 7.8k

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), mentions of alcohol, friends to lovers, harvey is yearning, fluff, poorly written smut, missionary, oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), some ooc harvey (he literally just has rizz) bc its my first fic for him (pls be gentle), first fic i've written in years

divider by @uzmacchiato

Winter was never gentle in the valley. From the dry, frigid bite of the Calico Desert, to the wet and miserable state of Pelican Town, the race to springtime never failed to feel sluggish. As a farmer though, however miserable the lack of daylight may be, this was the perfect time of year to sit back and relax. With just some simple hay rounds, minimal mucking, and nary a crop in the field, this was the only time of year you truly were able to decompress. The little work available kept you going, and the time off prevented the heat of burnout from a successful summer. So despite the slush, frozen soil, and seasonal affective disorder, you put on your mud boots every morning and made do with many layers and a smile on your face. 

Usually done with winter chores by the late morning, it wasn’t unusual for you to spend most of your days in town itself. The walk from your grandfather’s home to the town square wasn’t always ideal with the weather, but you never stayed out too late, especially with the consistent storms. 

Today was no different, snow falling gently into your home as you barged in just after your chores for the day. With wisps of cold damp hair stuck on your face over your mouth, you eagerly removed your hay covered layers and rubber thermal boots. Your body relaxed immediately as heat radiated from the fireplace just across the room. As comforting as it was, you wasted no time basking in the resplendence of the antiquated living room, instead opting to head straight for the shower, where your clothes for the remainder of the day waited. 

Patiently and folded, as if intentional, your outfit glared at you from the counter. Not that you’d admit it to yourself, but it was definitely serving a purpose. With all the time in the world on your hands, you finally put an effort into your appearance when venturing into town. The few clothes that never saw the field made their way out of the depths of your closet and straight into Pierre’s, the library, or, most often, the saloon for two cups of coffee, followed by a trip to the clinic. The thought of the warm cup of java in your hands fuelled a quick bathing session, and before you knew it, you were right back out your door once again. 

The nip at your nose was unnoticeable over the mile and a half into town, boots scuffing with divine purpose on the snow-packed cobblestones of the square. Everything had its usual pale glow about it, magical and quiet. The bright blue panelling of the clinic suited it beautifully, with a warm yellow light gleaming from the top floor. No clients today, you noted. Averting your eyes from your final stop, you scurried into the saloon, the bell ringing at noon sharp. 

“There she is!” Gus laughed, a clean rag thrown over his shoulder. “Same as usual?”

“Farmer’s special, we decided, right?” Emily chirped from the other side of the bar, cleaning an already polished spot. Staying busy was just as hard everywhere else in the valley, it seemed. 

“One for here,” 

“And one to go!” Gus and Emily sang together, your head shaking with a light laugh as you shoveled out 600 gold for two cups of coffee. Emily made quick work of the drip machine, finished just on time for your punctual arrival. Gus took your money gladly before making himself busy with his rag, wiping at nothing on his pristine glasses. Emily brought your coffee over quickly, one in a ceramic diner mug, the other in a cardboard to-go cup with a little winter themed thermal sleeve. You chuckled at it as you picked up the mug, bringing it to your face, finally thawing the redness on your nose. 

“Is he expecting you today?” Emily asked, learning over the bar with crossed arms. “Or is this more of a walk-in appointment?”

“Hilarious, really,” you smiled into your cup. 

“Yer lucky it’s cold out, sweetheart. Gives you an excuse for all that flushing.” Gus said over his shoulder. “Can feel those cheeks from over here.”

“That’s just your lunch special burning, Gus,” Emily laughed. Gus let out a little yelp before darting back into the kitchen, a few expletives following faintly behind. 

“What would he do without you?” You asked, relaxing a bit as you heated back up. 

“You just got a preview,” Emily sighed. “So, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Ah,” you placed down your cup, looking down into the black coffee, steam obscuring your reflection. “Walk-in, I suppose.”

“Flu season, right?” Emily winked. “Joking aside, I know he appreciates it. On the days he can actually get himself here for a cup, he’s usually past the point of exhaustion.”

“I hope that rings true today. He didn’t seem to have anyone in the clinic when I passed by.”

“All the better, if you’re not interrupting anything.” Emily pushed herself up, arms extending over the bar. “It’s his birthday, so you better not let it get cold.”

With that and a couple large swigs of your own cup, you headed right back out into the cold with the extra coffee in hand. No time to waste building up courage, you headed around the corner, and straight into the clinic. 

The bell rang out, echoing off of the walls of the empty foyer. Not even Maru was in today. 

You pushed the swinging doors back into the hall, eyeing the stairway that led up to that warm yellow glow you saw outside. You could hear it, faintly; his little bookshelf radio playing some seasonal jazz. Clinic tile turning into hardwood at his door, you knocked three times rhythmically, opening it yourself after the third. 

“Harvey?” you called out, peeking into the studio apartment filled with low light. “I brought you some coffee-”

“Oh, thank yoba-” the familiar voice called, just as incandescent and cozy as his apartment. “Please, come in!”

You shuffled in slowly, closing the door behind you softly and peeling off your rubber boots once again so as not to ruin his floors. It was hard to attempt being delicate, but you couldn’t fathom being a disrespectful guest. Especially not for him. 

And there he was, turning around the corner from his kitchen, where most of the light was coming from. His hair was shaggy today; disgruntled. His tie was half done, and two mismatched socks sat scrunched around his ankles. 

“Y/N, you must be freezing!”

“I warmed up a fair bit at the stardrop, but thank you for your concern.” You responded politely. 

“I should be thanking you!” Harvey walked hastily to his sofa, almost stubbing his toe on it. There laid a briefcase, papers and minor medical supplies strewn about. “I’ve got a last second countryside home call halfway to Calico. Pneumonia, it seems. I have to be there before dark but my stuff is all-”

“Hey, chill out!” You soothed, finally moving into the apartment. You handed Harvey the cup of coffee and pushed him aside, taking his files into your hands and straightening them out. “You go and warm up your car, and take that with you. I’ll get this sorted and you’ll be out of here in five.”

“But what about-”

“No buts, and change your socks!”

“Okay…” he submitted, heading right for the door. 

“Keys, Harvey,”

“Right!”

He ran down the stairs of the clinic without hesitation, grabbing his keys off the wall in a rush. You smiled to yourself, happy you could get to him just before he made a mess of a stressful day. It was the exact reason you kept coming back. You loved to give him a hand, even with something minor. He always accepted it with open arms, though he’d never ask. It had become quite the routine. 

Assorting his files quickly, you packed his briefcase tight, placing it by his boots that he’d run down without. 

“Right, socks,” you said aloud, eyeing the pile of clean laundry on the chair next to his aerial radio station. It seemed he was perhaps the only person in town being kept busy. Grabbing a pair that you could notice easily, you stood by the window, looking down to see Harvey scrambling to scrape the ice off his windshield. With the socks already in hand, you grabbed his briefcase, coat, and boots, heading downstairs behind him. 

“Need another hand?” You laughed, putting his belongings in the passenger seat. 

“Darned defrost isn’t heating up," Harvey grunted as he scraped at the ice. “Could you spray some wiper fluid?”

“Sure thing,” you respond, reaching into his old sedan to spray the windshield. “It’ll take a minute to work.”

Harvey sighed shakily, forgetting his frosty situation. You threw his jacket at him from across the top of his car, watching him fumble and grab it. 

“Seriously, thank you, Y/N,” he relaxed a bit, coming around his car to grab his new socks and boots. “You seem to always show up at the right time.”

“Winter gives me the time to do that, y’know. Just the season for it.”

“Sure,” Harvey replied as he changed out his footwear in the passenger seat. “It must be nice to not feel rushed in this kind of weather.”

“It’s a plus, for sure.” You sighed, leaning against his finally defrosting car. “You make sure to drive slow, even if you’re in a rush. Here,” you pulled him out of the car once he was laced up, straightening out his jacket and grabbing his tie. “Can’t care for others without caring for yourself, y’know.” 

“You’re right. I’ve been extra clumsy lately.” Harvey admitted as you tightened his neckwear. You flattened it out, patting his chest, locking eyes with him for a quick, quiet second. Thank Yoba Gus was right, you did have an excuse to be so red. Reaching around your neck, you pulled off your velvet scarf, throwing it over his head. 

“Just get some safely. I’ll see you around.”

“Thanks again, Y/N.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You stepped aside, letting him move back to the driver's side before he took off, the wipers removing the now slush from his windshield. You smiled as he drove towards the bus stop and away from town, heeding your advice. Looking further up into the valley, and the mountains, your smile dropped a bit. That was one hell of a storm coming in. Your mind moved quickly to your animals, and you raced back home to get them settled for a rough night. 

~

Ruminants tucked in, poultry packed tight, the farm was ready for the wintry tempest that billowed through in the early evening. You’d made it back just in time to take some extra steps in ensuring the insulation of the coops and barn, and without any worry on your mind, you were making yourself busy at home. 

Well, without much worry. You hadn’t heard from Harvey since he’d set out into the valley towards the storm. It's not like he was obligated to; you were only there to lend a hand now and then. You hadn’t even asked him to reach out. Instead, you made yourself an evening of tasks; clean the farmhouse, do the laundry, open some of the blueberry wine you’d been aging in your cellar. Surely that would do a great job at taking your mind off of Harvey and his dangerous day-trip. 

Night pressed on, and the storm furthered its temper. You couldn’t even see your barn’s light through your window, let alone the field beyond it. Still, you looked onto the path outside your door, as far as you could before the blizzard blurred its image. The howling wind did nothing to settle your stew and wine filled stomach, but you removed yourself from the window sill regardless. Just as you peeled back, however, you could’ve sworn you saw a figure within the flurry. Looking out once again, you could definitely see movement. Fearing the worst for the structural integrity of your barn, you grabbed your jacket and boots and threw open the door, walking slowly towards the movement in order not to scare off one of your animals. If they’d escaped in this storm, surely they’d be flighty.

As you walked further out, however, your vision became clearer. Animal turned to figure, and - that was no cow. 

Walking slowly, trudging through the snow towards your home, was Harvey.

“Oh my Yoba!” you yelled, voice distorted by the violent winds. “Harvey, what the hell are you doing out here?”

You raced towards him, his hands wrapped around himself as he moved ever so slowly against the wind. You grabbed his side and guided him to your porch. He was soaking wet, his jacket and hair frozen, nose redder than a ripe salmonberry. Shivering and unresponsive, you lugged him inside your house and immediately grabbed his shoulders. 

“Hey! Are you okay?” You yelled, making him look at you in the eyes. He nodded his head with a shiver, and you relaxed your shoulders slightly. 

“J-jacket…” He shook, straightening his arms out at his sides in an attempt to get the ice encrusted coat off. 

“Oh, yeah!” You walked behind him, shimmying the frozen fabric down. Even his shirt was wet and cold. “Harvey, what the hell happened?” 

“Car… broke down… exit before the bus stop.” He sputtered, kicking off his soaked boots. 

“Shit! Did you walk here?”

“Hmm…”

“Oh my god, that’s at least a mile from here…” You put your hand over your mouth, getting a better look at him. His shaking hands were reminiscent of a wild plum, tightened fists at his side. You stared at him - deer in headlights. This was significantly past what you were used to aiding him in. He was the one with the knowledge here, all of what to do was inside his icy mind. You took his frozen fists in hand, and with a furrowed brow met his daze. “Tell me what to do.”

“Clothes… warm…”

“Okay, I'll get you some warm clothes. Follow me,” you led him into your bedroom, stopping at your dresser. “Here’s some flannel pajamas - that's all I have for you. Towels are in the bathroom just right there - there are blankets by the fire in the living room when you’re done. I’ll put on some tea or something.”

“Th-thank you.”

“You can thank me when you’re warm,” you added sincerely, heading back into the living room. 

In a daze of your own, you stepped out the front door, grabbing some wood from the shelter on your porch. Breath shaky and grip firm, you hoisted it under your arm and inhaled deeply. This was not how you expected his first night at your house to go. Then again, your first at his was after a brutal serpent attack in calico. How he found you, you hadn’t a clue, but you weren’t expecting to wake up in the clinic with a broken ankle and a concussion. This was far less of a professional experience, but there was no getting to the clinic in this blizzard. 

Kicking the door open with your foot, you lugged in the extra wood, letting it fall from your grip by the strewn boots before kicking your own back off. You picked Harvey’s up, unlacing them as you walked back towards the fire to stuff them with some newspaper. You placed them a fair distance from the flames before heading to your bedroom. Harvey was in your bathroom still, and you approached with a knock.

“Are you okay in there?”

“Hmm,” Harvey called, the doorknob rattling as he let himself out. The large blue pajamas fit him perfectly, well, would, if he could’ve buttoned them up evenly. His hands, only a deep pink now, were still shaking as he tried to give you a thumbs up. You offered him a half smile of relief before reaching behind him, grabbing the towel he evidently neglected. You threw it over his head, rubbing it on his hair before bringing it back down to sit on his shoulders. His glasses skewed, and a little steamy, he let loose a small laugh. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

“Mhmm,” you responded, a soft smile on your lips contrary to the concern on your brow. “Let’s get your clothes washed. You should go sit by the fire.” 

“Alright,” Harvey weakly breathed, grabbing at his soaking clothes from your sink. 

“Uh uh, enough of that,” you patted at his cold hands. “You sit by the fire. You’ve done enough to help around today.”

“I could say the same of you,” he countered, although submitting to your efforts to grab his clothes away. 

“I didn’t drive through a record breaking snow storm to ‘lend a hand’. Please, give yourself credit.” You continued as you turned around, Harvey following closely behind. You lead him back out into the living room, crossing into your kitchen and throwing the clothes into your washing machine. “Go sit!” 

“You have a nice home,” He began, staring around half tired into your house. 

“Harvey,” you sighed as you fumbled with the detergent and buttons. “You can admire all you want by the fire.”

Harvey hummed in response, shuffling towards the fireplace.

“Can I get you anything, warm water? Tea?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” he began to decline out of politeness, putting his hands by the fire.

“Wine?’

“Wine, please.”

You chuckled and grabbed a glass, relaxing a bit as he knelt by the hearth. 

The sound of crackling wood took over as you brought the glass to Harvey, sitting next to him on the persian rug. You grabbed your own from the coffee table behind you and poured both glasses generously. 

“I’m sorry your birthday’s been rough.”

Harvey’s back straightened slightly, pausing as he was about to take his first sip. 

“I didn’t know you knew,” he breathed, facing the fire again. “I appreciate it,”

“Of course I knew, I’ve brought you coffee every year since I moved in.” You immediately took a much more generous gulp of your own glass as you heard yourself speak.

“Y-Yes! I guess so. I don’t know why I thought otherwise…” He fumbled with his words, readjusting his grip on the stemware a few times. 

“Don’t sweat it, please,” you turned to him on one knee, “Are you feeling alright now?”

“Yeah, just fine, actually. Thank you,” he laid back on one arm, shakiness subsided with the sip of courage. “Yoba, I didn’t know if I was gonna make it. Or if you were awake, or if you were gonna come out with a shotgun-”

“A shotgun?” you guffawed, smile brightening. “Do I seem like that kind of farmer?”

“You’ve got a vague unregistered firearm aura to you,” Harvey jested with a smooth demeanour you only got to see ever so often. Usually after a glass of wine or two at the stardrop alongside Elliot or Maru, but rarely on your own. 

“Do I really?” You played along, bringing your knees up to your chest as you faced him fully. “A healthy bit of ‘get off my property’?”

“As your doctor, yes, just the right amount.”

“Hmm,” you sang into your next sip of wine. “I guess I’m doing alright then.” 

“Perfect.” Harvey responded quickly, taking his next swill. Your eyes caught as he said it, breaking away swiftly to look in the fire together. Cracking resumed, the burgundy walls closing in as you felt your face grow even warmer. 

“You made the right call coming here. I don’t know what I-” you caught yourself, feigning a cough. “Yeah, you did the right thing.”

“Are you okay?” Harvey leaned forward, placing his glass on the table. 

“Yeah, it’s just something caught in my throat.”

“Are you sure?” He moved quickly, one hand removing your wine glass and the other gently landing on the small of your back. After setting the glass down, he placed the back of his hand against your forehead, his brow furrowing. He moved it down to your cheek, plump and reddened by-

“I can’t tell if it’s the fire, but you don’t seem too bad. You didn’t overdo it today, did you?”

You couldn't respond soundly until he leaned back, your knees brushing one another. 

“No,” you choked, “just some plain old winter chores. It’s probably just the fire.”

“Should we move to the couch?” He reached out his hand, beginning to stand. 

“If you’re warm enough,” you grasped it and joined him, getting another glimpse of his mismatched buttons. With significantly less concern than earlier, you let out a stifled giggle, pointing to his torso. He looked down and gave a breathy laugh, shaking his head while tackling the befuddled buttons. You plopped yourself onto the couch as he walked over, taking his time with the task. He stood in front of you, undoing and redoing them one by one. Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, eyelids lazily pondering his busy hands. You reached for your wine promptly as he sat down, abandoning the bottom button in defeat and laying his hands across his stomach.

Harvey rolled his head back, letting it rest on the top of your couch with his eyes closed. You allowed yourself, just this once, to take him in. Jawline alight by your fire, auburn hair tousled against your sofa, broad shoulders beneath your pajamas. How many times had you wished for this exact situation? Imagining it seemed so impossible then; something in your mind wouldn’t let you quite grasp the unrefined details. It was hard not to imagine his green suit jacket and the pens in its pocket when you would daydream. You always wondered what he appeared like without his mustache trimmed or his shirt tucked in. Here he was in all his unkempt glory; you could feel your own heartbeat against your neck. This allure, the one you’d felt since your first appointment those years ago, felt unlike any attraction you’d had before. Maybe it was the professional relationship or the fact that he took very good care of his mustache, but something about the way you felt towards him seemed so grown. Evolved past anything you knew of desire, a tenderness so new yet intrinsically old. The way you brought him coffee on Sundays and Mondays like clockwork, it was as natural as your frontal lobe forming. 

“(Y/N)?” Harvey snapped you out of your stupor, only his head facing you, the slightest of contortions between his brows. His lips parted ever so slightly as he awaited your response, firelit hazel eyes subtly squinting as they scanned yours. All you could do was pull your leg onto the cushion and rest your weight into the back of the couch while offering him an earnest, relieved smile. He returned it, chin slightly elevating in approval of your beam. 

You stayed that way for a while, just gazing at one another, unable to say a word, until you let out a long sigh and once again placed your wine down. 

“You must be exhausted. I have a guest room upstairs. The bed’s made, I can show you to it if you’d like.”

“I’m not quite, if you aren’t,” Harvey stopped you, hand reaching yours in an attempt to ease. “I, uh, want to make sure you aren’t sick.”

“I’m supposed to say that about you,” you smiled, eyes catching the jukebox in the corner of your living room. “Music?”

“What have you got?”

You made quick work of standing, stepping past Harvey’s legs to the corner on the right of the hearth, stopping to pull him along with you. It lit up as you approached, a bright yellow from beneath the two of you. 

“Let’s see, it’s a lot of older things, as these usually are… you like jazz, right? I’ve got Charles Mingus, Chet Baker,”

“How’d you know that?” Harvey asked calmly, taking his eyes off the flipping records to observe you. You straightened your spine as you looked down, flipping through the genre. 

“It’s always playing on your radio when I come by-”

“On Sundays. Yeah, it is.” He finished with you, adding his gentle affirmation. “Any Wes Montgomery?”

“Solo or Trio?” You softly asked, flipping to the options. 

“Trio.”

“ ‘Round Midnight it is.” You selected the song, watching the machine place it on its side and begin the track. 

Gentle guitar began playing amongst the fuzzy static of the old record, both you and Harvey taking a step back to gauge each other's reactions. You were searching him for an inch of affirmation, as if he hadn’t just given it to you. Something in his perspective shifted; he was scanning you with much more curiosity than on the couch. Well, maybe not curiosity. He knew you, and you knew that. It seemed more like he was acknowledging something. 

“You sure know me.” He huffed, a relaxed grin spreading from beneath his well trimmed mustache. 

“I like to think we’re, ah,” you caught yourself, suddenly aware of your choice of words. “Well acquainted by now.”

“Well acquainted?” Harvey quirked a brow and slid his hands to find the back pockets of your spare pajamas. “I would say so, yes.” 

“You, uh, you missed a button,” you gestured to the base of his torso, a small sliver of skin with a trail of dark hair atop it peaking through the unbuttoned portion of the flannel set. 

“Ah, I couldn’t quite-” Harvey lifted it up slightly, his very apparent happy trail greeting you in the combined glow of jukebox and fire. Your eyes widened in a flash before you jolted forward, grasping at his shirt to prevent him from pulling it to a territory from whence you’d lose composure. He broke his own hands away as you grasped the shirt firmly, staring up at him with a fierce embarrassment.

“Um, here,” you offered with a pathetic attempt to play it cool. You let go of the fabric and instead held the button, a loose thread wrapped around it connecting it to the one above. “I see.” You gently unwound it from the thread, looking up through your lashes to find Harvey staring down at you, an even greater part in his mouth. You almost pouted, focusing a little harder on the thread. In your periphery, you could see his hands floating just an inch from your sides, fingers almost brushing up against you. The thread gave way and you stepped back, standing up straight to see Harvey take a deep breath. Was this really happening?

“I’ll go grab some scissors to cut the thread,” you stated robotically before darting up to your craft room, leaving your doctor in your flushed wake. 

--

Harvey was aghast at his lack of action. Pressing his fingers on the bridge of his nose, he turned back to your sofa, grabbing his glass of wine and topping it off before drinking it whole and filling it again. You ran out; darted, even. You took him in, warmed him up, served him his favorite drink and played one of his favorite songs; and then, you ran out. But before all that, you came outside. You found him, you met him out there before you even knew he was there. Yoba, you were clever. Unbelievably intuitive. What he had in booksmarts he lacked in your charisma and instinct. And by some stroke of faith, or maybe just your discernment, you found him just before he collapsed. He’d just managed to run you off.  

His hand slipped down to wipe the wine off of his mustache as his gaze followed your steps to the dark stairway to the left of the hearth. He could hear you going through drawers and taking short steps. It was only a matter of time before you’d be back. 

“Casual, cool,” Harvey muttered to himself, spreading his arms along the back of the couch and trying to kick up a foot onto his other knee. Emphasis on trying, as he knocked the table with his foot, causing your near empty glass to tumble over. He cursed to himself, wiping at it with the towel he’d forgotten on the couch before scrambling to fill it back up to the same amount as before, superseding it greatly just as you walked back into the room. 

“I thought I’d go ahead and fix the button so the loose thread doesn’t just make it fall off- oh, thank you!” you chirped as Harvey poured your glass almost to the brim. Placing your sewing things down to take a sip, he handed the glass to you as if it were all part of his master plan. 

“I just need to tie it off and cut it, really. No need to take it off.” You added quickly, a twinge in your brow Harvey couldn’t really identify.

“Okay,” he complied, holding the shirt out a little as you sat yourself on the coffee table to face him. “Is this alright?”

“Perfect,” you spread your legs beside his to get a little lower, resting your arms on your thighs. “Maybe come a little towards me.”

He scooted forward, his knee brushing your inner thigh. You didn’t budge, instead threading a needle you’d brought down and tying it off. You fed it through the buttonhole a few times before tying it around itself and grabbing the small scissors behind you, snipping it cleanly. 

“Good as new.” You leaned back, smiling at him with closed eyes. 

“That was fast,” Harvey noted, shrinking a little to get a closer look at the button. 

“Had to make a repair or two in my time. Why don’t you keep those? I never wear them, really.” 

“I- ah, sure, thank you!”

And there you were, sitting before him, almost in his lap. You turned around with your torso to grab your glass and his, handing it to him with a smile. 

“To your birthday.”

“And my well acquainted.”

Your eyebrows raised as your glasses clinked; and you both sipped, eye contact unwavering. 

Yoba, you were beautiful. Divinely backlit by the fire you created, keeping him warm in more ways than one. Your head tilted, letting some of the light shine through, reflecting off his glasses and back onto you. 

“You’re something, you know?” Harvey stated, a little quieter than before. He watched your head flick back upwards, the light leaving his lens and showing you clearer. 

The wine was settling in. 

“Tell me about the coffee.”

“Oh, yeah,” you responded, looking down at your glass.This really was happening. “I was having a coffee at Gus’s when he wanted to finish a pot off, and he gave me two cups. I’d heard from him that you were his only other regular customer for coffee, so I thought I’d stop by.”

“And he just happened to need to finish a pot every time?” Harvey questioned further, leaning a little further back on the couch. 

“Well, not exactly. But it seemed like that was a good time to drop in that day, so it worked out with my schedule…” You pushed on, leaning forward as you tried to explain.

“What a coincidence…” Harvey laughed light heartedly. 

“What do you mean?” you feigned. “I mean it, it really did work out, and it was nice that I had someone to share it with.”

“I mean, what a coincidence that I happened to clear my schedule out after that.” Harvey stopped you, holding up his glass. He leaned forward, brushing past you as he placed it down and far out of reach. “At that time, each Sunday and Monday.” He pulled back, face coming awfully close to yours. 

Your lips parted as you realized it; he’d been putting just as much intention into your visits as you had. Looked forward to it, ensured it. 

“1:30 in the afternoon,” you finished, eyelids faltering. “Harvey…”

He’d had enough. 

Years in the making of coffee and music, conversations that felt so effortless, yet he’d never even questioned if you were in it the way he was. It was never a possibility. He’d figured you’d been making friends that way- he’d seen you offering daffodils to Caroline and your forageables to Linus, even gemstones to Emily when he’d sit with you at the stardrop. You seemed to just know these things about people, where they were and when, what they liked and disliked. He never figured for a moment that you had any ulterior emotions attached, let alone for him. He was your doctor.

The doctor you saw at least twice a week by coming to his doorstep with one of his favorite things and spending an entire afternoon with him. 

He took your glass and placed it near his, far, far away from where you sat. He brought his attention back to your hands, looking down at them from where your foreheads nearly grazed.

“Your hands get so soft in the winter,” he whispered, tracing a finger over where he knew your calluses to usually be. “I remember the calluses you had when you first brought me a cup.”

Your breath hitched as you remembered the day; a warm monday in your first summer after you’d finished harvesting. The calluses probably hadn’t even formed fully by then. 

“They were more like blisters. You told me not to give you anything because you needed to build up the strength in your skin.”

“You looked mortified when I said it.” You added, relaxing your hands as he gently caressed his finger pads into your palm. He remembered exactly where they were. 

“Five ounces of over-the-counter Bacitracin. Didn’t let you leave without it.”

“No, you didn’t.” 

Harvey slid his knee outwards, opening your legs a little more, making you sit up a little straighter and further forward. He sat straight as well, intertwining his fingers with yours. You could feel his breath on you, hitting your jawline and creeping down your neck. Looking up from your hands, you found him with a heavy lid and a little concern. He scanned quickly from your eyes to your lips, and when his gaze found them, it cemented. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You didn’t respond, opting to instead press forward, placing the gentlest kiss you’ve ever given upon his lips. You took a moment, furrowing your brow before leaning back and gauging his response. 

His glasses were fogged, cheeks alight, lips slightly parted. Right where you’d always wanted him. 

Caution thrown to the wind, he leaned in towards you, letting out a soft moan as he kissed you with more fervor, releasing your hands and softly placing one behind your head and the other on your back, leading you up and onto him. You left the table and allowed your weight to fall on his thighs, the two of you gliding onto the back of the couch. He controlled your movements as he opened his mouth and slid his tongue over your bottom lip. You gave in without hesitation and placed your arms on his chest for support. It was so much firmer than his usual clothing led you to believe, acting as a solid wall for you to paw at. 

Your movements turned animalistic as his hands began to explore your upper body, up your back and down your arms, through your hair and on your jawline. Your kisses grew more frantic as he found and matched your pace, bodies beginning to ebb and flow like the gusts of snowy wind outside your front door. 

“Harvey,” you beckoned against him, hips greeting him, both exuding more warmth than the fire behind you. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he cooed, his thumb finding solace on your jaw. “I’m yours.”

His kisses left your mouth, trailing to where his hand was, placing tender messages of affection on your jaw and neck, breathing in deeply where he could feel your pulse beneath his lips. You whimpered as he burrowed his face into you and arched your back, torso pressing up against the blue flannel. 

You smelt of the fire and the same detergent he could smell on his clothes. His regular clothes would soon smell like you, too. Harvey’s grip on your waist tightened at the thought of carrying it home with him. 

“Please,” you breathed into the open space above you. Your hands found his hair, gently pulling his head back to look up at you. “I-”

You were at a loss for words at his crooked glasses covering those lust-filled eyes. 

“I need you,” you hummed, his head turning to place a kiss into your palm. 

“As you wish.” 

Your lips met again as your hands fell down to the buttons you knew so well, making clumsy work to undo them and expose his well haired chest. He found the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and discarding it somewhere behind him. You both found your breath as your bare chests faced one another. You were already in your sleepwear, bra long since in your laundry hamper, nipples perking at the exposure to the dry air inside your home. Harvey didn’t question it for a moment, his hands sliding up your sides to place themselves atop your breasts. He found your neck again and you leant into him as he massaged you, his muscles memorizing the feeling of you against him. 

Beneath you, Harvey was already rigid, the feeling making you groan back into the air. Your hips dug down, the weight of you grinding against his solidity with a slow and intentional tug. He let out a guttural groan, the rumble sending a shiver down your spine that made your nipples stiffen further and your core radiate with a wet warmth. His hands left your chest and slid down the small of your back, ducking underneath the hem of your sweatpants and tugging them down. You eased your ministrations and let him bring them as far down as he could before you realized you couldn’t from where you sat. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, the first proper expletive you’d heard from him. In a swift motion, he guided you onto your back beside him, towering over you as he worked your pants the rest of the way. His chest heaved at the sight of you bare beneath him, bringing his hands over your thighs. “Are you sure you want this?”

You couldn’t stomach a response at this change in demeanor from him. He’d never so much as commanded a patient, needing your help at times to place firmer instruction on his most stubborn clients. But he truly was towering over you, his pants pulled slightly down from the sudden change of positions. The happy trail you so deftly noted before darkened greatly, thickening into a bush above his- you nodded very quickly. 

He relaxed his shoulders, situating himself lower and lower until he found himself level with your warmth. He looked up to you with a gaze of one more question of consent, but your permissive nodding and lazy smile sent his focus back into you. Hands cascading beneath your thighs, he worked them up gently and placed them over his shoulders before situating one arm over your pelvis. He placed a supple kiss to your inner thigh and trailed to your lower lips before finding your clit. 

“Yoba,” he whispered against your most sensitive place, kissing it once, twice, thrice before licking from your entrance up to the nub. 

“Oh, Harvey,” you whined, head falling back into the armrest. He furthered, making soft sounds of moisture sing above the fire. He licked firmly without the need for searching, as if he knew exactly where you needed him. Licking turned to sucking, and his free hand found its way beneath his mouth, a warm finger brushing against your folds in pursuit of your entrance. He circled it softly before testing the warm spring waters, wading inside you. His tongue quickened as he felt your hips try to move. He held you down over your pelvis, and you groaned out louder than before. His finger curled gently inside you, massaging the tender spot that truly yearned for his touch. He could feel you clench over him, sending in a partner finger to further your divine stimulation. 

Yoba, you were soaking. He moved his fingers with ease against your pulsating walls, tongue ravaging your clit until you let out a whine he hadn’t been able to imagine, not even in his dreams. You found your climax, riding as much as you could onto his fingers and tongue, squirming up against his nose. 

“Good girl,” he hummed against you as you clenched uncontrollably onto his fingers. Your chest rose and fell as the electricity wound its way through you, hands loosening their grip on the upholstery. 

You rose your head, eyes foggy as you found him kissing your thighs once again. You didn’t have to ask as he sat up, working himself out of his pants and letting loose what you really wanted, his hardness springing up against his chest. Bringing your thighs up, he positioned himself in front of you, thighs meeting yours as he laid himself above your puffy pussy. Something inside him shifted, though. You could see it as he fixed his glasses and caressed your thigh.

You adjusted your arms behind you, lifting your torso to meet him halfway. 

“Harvey?” you asked softly. He breathed for a moment as he held your gaze, licking you off of his lower lip. 

“I don’t want to push you,” he spoke, running his thumb up and down from his grip over your leg. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your head relaxed to the side as you admired him, still so nurturing in his relations. 

“You couldn’t if you tried.” You reached for him, pulling him down for a soft kiss before whispering against him. “I want this, if you want this. I want you. ”

He kissed you again, a smile breaking across his unsure expression. You held his gaze as you reached down to his cock, sliding it over your wetness before guiding it to your wanting entrance. He shuddered mildly at the feeling, eyelids fluttering and lips parting in awe. You let go of him and reached for his cheek, placing it there for reassurance. Without a break in your shared gaze, he pushed in slowly, both of your mouths reacting to the feeling of him filling you. He pulled out partially before sheathing fully again, breaking a hum out of your mouth as he found himself brushing up against the spot his fingers found. 

“I-” Harvey’s breath hitched as his brows fluttered upwards. He was hesitating again.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” you cooed. The pet name sent his hips against yours, awakening him like a sleeper agent. “Oh, fuck,” your head fell back. 

Harvey set a pace quickly, thrusting into you with zeal as you leaned back on your arms. His grip on your thighs tightened as he pulled you as close to him as possible, hips hammering into you with a force you didn’t know he was capable of. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whimpered, eyes closing as his head reeled back. “I’m so sorry.”

His pace grew unfathomably, making your body shake with the sofa. You let out a groan as he had you, cock jackhammering with sharp intention. He repeated himself, fucking you and himself silly, as if he’d never had a taste of something so intoxicating in his life. No amount of your blueberry wine could make him as drunk as he was on your pussy, wrapped around him so tightly and rhythmically. You found yourself staring up at him in fascination as he pleased you greater than you’d ever dreamed of. Uncontrollable lust took over him as he found your gaze again, looking up to him with the expression he’d so desperately hoped to see on your face one day. He pushed your thighs back up against you as he knelt forward, finding himself somehow even deeper in you as he brought his face to tower over yours. 

“You’re so fucking, ah,” he moaned, “feel so fucking good.”

“Baby, please don’t stop,” you beckoned further, “I’m so close.”

“Oh fuck, sweetheart, come for me,” Harvey begged, his pace unyielding as he brought one hand down to your clit, rubbing it in rough circles. You yelled out as he stimulated you, grinding your teeth down at the overwhelming sense of pleasure. 

“I’m gonna,” you choked, needing to gasp for air. 

“Come on my cock, baby,” he coaxed further, desire taking the reins.

“Fuck!” you groaned out as your core clenched, a wave of pleasure breaking so strongly over your shore that your ears almost began to ring. Harvey choked back a whine as you clamped on him repeatedly like a rip tide pulling him out to sea.

“Sweetheart I’m- I’m so fucking close,” he almost squeaked. 

“Inside,” you gasped as you continued to ride out the swell.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his rhythm becoming rocky on the jagged coast of his release. Within a moment, the waters stilled, and he let out a low and slow inaudible string of expletives. You could feel him release inside you as you still convulsed, sending you back into the ocean of bliss one more time. 

Your breathing hitched as Harvey’s slowed, his hands finding themselves over your chest as he steadied himself. Together you rode down from the tidal euphoria, breathing heavily and eyelids fluttering lazily. He slowly pulled himself out, placing his mouth over yours without the constraint of your bodies. Your hands found themselves in his hair once again as he pulled you up and onto his lap, straddling him like once before. He pushed your hair out of your face as you readjusted his glasses, an expression of pure adoration across both of your flushed faces. 

“You are unbelievable,” he whispered, his head shaking slightly.

“How so?” you teased, resting your arms on the sofa behind his head. 

“I just,” he lost himself in your eyes for a moment, a small smirk finding its way beneath his mustache. “I’ve known you for only a handful of years, yet I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Hopefully not freeze to death,” you poked leisurely. “I can’t have you getting frostbitten.”

“Not with you to keep me warm,” he placed his hands atop your hips, rubbing them softly. “Not a chance.”

“It’s warmer in my bedroom, you know.” You whispered into his ear, feeling him jolt slightly beneath your hips. 

“Can we bring the wine?”

“I have a cellar full, you don’t have to ask.”

[naids4luv]

hi! ur genuinely my fav writer on here 🫶 i was hoping i could request the dreamies as y/n’s best friends reacting to her saying she has a crush on another member?

! bsf dreamies reacting to you having a crush on another member !

omggg i’m so honoured genuinely tysm😭😭 ty for requesting !! and i’m so sorry i’ve only js done it😭😭 enjoy tho🤭

[taexoxosgf]

LEE JENO FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst

everyone in heat after tds3. everyone is me. > lots are from my old recs so it’s extra long!

recommendation masterlist

rich purity [ virgin!jeno x fem!reader ] [ fwb, university au ] s,f,a

fight club [ fighter!jeno x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s,f

in your eyes, part two [ player!jeno x fem!reader, college au ] s,f,a

summer love [ brothers bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] [ 90's summer au ] f

the antics [ model!jeno x fem!reader ] s,f,a

pride & prejudice. [ pride and prejudice!jeno x afab!reader ] s,f,a

netflix and chill [ jeno x fem!reader ] [ college au, strangers to lovers ] s,f

two photos, two kisses [ one night stand to lovers au ] s,f,a

impaled [ boyfriend!jeno x fem!reader x roommate!haechan ] [frat/soccer au] s

reel [ friend group camping trip au ] s,f

i suddenly realize my archnemisis is hot (during a battle to the death). [ son of ares!jeno x daughter of nike!reader ] f,a

summer hair = forever young [ strangers to lovers, summer fling au ] s,f,a

my first and last [ campus heartbreaker!jeno x fem!reader, friends to lovers au ] s,f,a

premium boy-toy [ stripper!jeno x fem!reader ] s

the walls are thin [ roommate!jeno x fem!reader x roommate!jaemin } s

promiscuous [ established relationship, jeno x ex-stripper!reader ] s

hush, hush. [ jeno, haechaen, jaemin x fem!reader ] s

wicked games [ enemies to lovers au ] s,f,a

sugar daddy galore! [ sugardaddy jeno & jaemin x fem!reader ] s

wanna know what it's like [ alt!jeno x fem!reader ] [ fwb au ] s,f

someone with secrets [ jeno x fem!reader ] [ classroom au ] s

open the gates, let me in [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] ft. haechan and jaemin f

shameless [ step-son x step-mom reader ] s

step on a crack, dr. lee’s gonna break your back! [ chiropractor!jeno x fem!reader ] s

the perks of having a hot best friend [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] f,a

only for me [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s,f,a

scream [ halloween party au, frat party au ] s

fuck around and find out [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s

bet! [ bestfriends to lovers au, college au ] f,a

sizing it up [ boyfriend jeno x reader ] s

summer heat and summer swim [ established relationship, pool day au ] s,f

brother's bestfriend!lee jeno x reader [ brother's best friend!jeno ] s

the boy next door [ neighbor!jeno x fem!reader ] s,f,a

be careful what you wish for [ boyfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s

get smart [ boyfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s

take my breath [ alpha!jeno x fem omega!reader ] s

[sincerelyneo]

could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐

mad at you | l.mk

“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”

💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we

❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.

❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex

❯ words: 4.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.

an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.

The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 

But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 

You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.

So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 

He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 

He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 

The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.

“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”

You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 

“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”

You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”

"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."

Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 

“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”

“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”

“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”

“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”

You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.

“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 

“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”

“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 

Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 

“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”

You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 

“Oh, so you want to break up?”

He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”

The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 

Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.

Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.

“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”

“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 

Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 

He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.

After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 

It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 

Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.

Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 

As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 

You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.

The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.

However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.

“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  

You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”

Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.

His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 

"I thought you left..."

Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.

“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 

You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 

He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”

His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 

"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."

Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."

"No—"

He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."

Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.

"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."

"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"

Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"

His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.

"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."

You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”

You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.

Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.

His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.

You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.

He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.

“‘s okay,” you whimper. 

Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.

He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 

He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 

And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 

“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”

You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 

“Mark…” 

“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 

You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.

And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.

As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 

You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 

He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 

Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 

The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.

You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 

You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 

Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.

Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.

And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 

You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 

So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...

“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”

You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.

“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”

And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 

And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 

The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 

You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 

You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.

"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.

"I’m sorry," you say softly.

You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."

[hugs2doie]

hi !!! could u do a haech scenario based off round&round? i luv ur stuff sm !!!!!

round&round. — l.d.h

PAIRING. haechan x gn!reader

GENRE. idk cutesy, js haechan being whipped ngl

WC. 491

NINI’S NOTE. haechan??? my ult?? with round&round??? one of my fave nct dongs rver??? u want me so bad anon.. AND I LOVE U TOOO. fid this at 3 am and i dont yhink its proofread… not v proud kf this but i jope u liekk it 💞💞 (turn on light mode for the banner to look prettier 😓)

“smile a bit!” you had told haechan with a big smile of your own, as you were holding his phone up, ready to take a picture with him.

but if only it was so easy for haechan to stand close to you without feeling his heart beating faster than the speed of light.

his pretty brown eyes bore into yours in nervousness after you scolded him, but he nevertheless stood closer to you, and slowly threw up a peace sign and a small smile.

“say cheese!”

and just like that, the picture that he was looking at with the goofiest and biggest grin ever on his hand, was taken.

he wasn’t even looking at himself in the picture, he was looking at you.

you and your stupid smile that got him feeling like he’s a little boy who just got his first ever crush. you who made him feel like he was so close but so far away from you. you who made him scared to make the first move, because you’re just friends, what if you reject him? but also you, who makes him the happiest man with just throwing a glance on his way.

he wasted his time today again. and before he knows it, it’s 2:30 am.

2:30 am.

he’s been tossing and turning under his bed sheets for a while trying to sleep, yet both his heard and brain won’t let him. what is wrong with him? he simply wanted to have a nice night sleep, and not think about his stupid teenage-y boy crush on his friend, those were for kids anyways.

but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of you just won’t leave him alone.

did he seriously have to be so pathetically in love with you? his friends have called him a loser multiple times ‘cause of this but he just can’t see why. i mean, it’s not like he’ll confess and then boom you’re dating! it’s more complicated than that, a lot more.

he just didn’t want to lose you. a simple confession between friends can ruin the whole friendship.

his overthinking was really eating him up this late at night.

you really were his everything. you were his sun and he was just the earth orbiting, and always wandering around you. he’d seek for you everywhere, but sometimes he’d think if you’d feel the same. i mean you have said a couple of “i love you”s, but those were just in the friendship way, right?

he needs you deeply. it’s like he’s a drug addict and you’re the drug.

at this point he’s surprised you haven’t figured out he likes you. the poor boy stutters and avoids eye contact with you all the time.

but he can’t help but be obvious when it comes to you.

he wasted his time yet again today,

but who knows,

maybe tomorrow he won’t.

[xrenjunniesx]

why do it feels like they actually have feelings for each other😭😭 more please🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

https://www.tumblr.com/xrenjunniesx/741339655189954560/friendjeno-text-imagines

friends to lovers jeno texts pt2.

continuation of this friend!jeno texts

[hannie-dul-set]

fuck you, aphrodite! [3].

SYNOPSIS. ready, set— let the love games begin! the cupid industry is a competitive business. donghyuck, jeno, and johnny know that very well. right on the cusp of their sweet, sweet promotion (and finally graduating from petty match-making and making sure their assignments finally fucking hook up), the three find themselves in a three-way battle because for their last assignment, the love lottery just had to give them the same person to manipulate into falling in love with their respective assignments— you.

PAIRINGS. kim doyoung, na jaemin, jung jaehyun x fem! reader.TAGS. socmed! au, cupid! au, college! au, org! au, another reverse harem of weird/asshole/loser men! the hannie-dul-set holy trinity of leading men! rom-com, explicit language and jokes, mentions of violence and hazing.

NOTE. there's supposed to be a written bit at the end but i decided to throw it into the next part becaise i was alr abt to hit to photo limit HAHAHAHHA i got too carried away with the jaemin moments 💔💔💔

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

TAGLIST. @grassbutneo @anothershorthuman @n0tprettybutt1red @totatite @ebebesstuff

fuck you, aphrodite! © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[writtenbymkl]

who is that fine babe? 🤓☝️

next | masterlist

[marksmelodies]

Hiii I hope your having a nice day or night whenever you see this! So I was wondering if you could do a text reaction to the reader getting ready for something and the members complimenting them but the reader not feeling the best and just the members hyping them up and making them feel loads better

hiii i’m back from the dead! thank you for your request! hope you like it and remember you all are so beautiful <3

tw: body image issues/talks of low self confidence

[joyoushyuck]

02:24

You fall asleep on Donghyuck's shoulder half way through movie night, you face buried in the crook of his neck and his head resting on top of yours. When he notices, he turns off the movie immediately. His hands raise to lift your face, palms cupping your cheeks, and his heart swells with adoration at the sight of your messy hair, squished cheeks and parted lips.

He carries you to his room, suppressing the urge to coo at your sleeping form as you snuggle against his chest. After Donghyuck tucks you in, he places the softest of kisses on your hair, and another on the corner of your eyes, whispering sweet nothings even though you wouldn't remember any of that.

It's only when he tries to walk away to refill the glass of water on his bedside table that he notices the hand enclosing his larger finger with a death grip.

The hand that is also resting against your heart.

[xrenjunniesx]

when they reject your offer for movie night so you do it with wayv instead

friendgroup!nctdream

this was requested! it was requested along with another idea which I’m still considering on doing, not sure if I have enough ideas for it but we will see!!