sparklingchan

[sparklingchan]

will read when i get time cos it looks so goooddddd

the law of unintended consequences. | jake sim (part four)

→ posits that actions often have unforeseen and unanticipated effects, which may be positive, negative, or neutral, that are not part of the actor's original intent. MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

pairing: astrophysicist jake x assistant reader

genre: co-workers to lovers

wc: part 1 – 20k | part 2 – 17.3k | part 3 - 21.2k | part 4 - 26.3k

warnings: slowburn, topics of abandonment issues, jake has his first kiss, makeouts, some touching (that's as far as it goes), cheesy ass astronomy rizz :'D

a/n: its over, pls im gonna cry :(((( i absolutely hate the ending for many reasons but it'll grow on me (i hope)

twenty-five.

you don’t expect this to happen really.

in fact, the moment is so carefully tucked between the banality of reports and afternoon coffee that it almost slips past you. almost.

jake has been quiet all morning. not withdrawn – just… focused. he’s been holed up in his office, the door half-closed but not locked, emerging only to refill his mug or grab a file. he greets you when you pass, offers you a small smile when your hands brush accidentally reaching for the same stapler, but otherwise says nothing about the phone call. nothing about the way your name had tumbled out of his mouth late at night, stargazed and slow. nothing about the half-confession you’ve replayed in your mind too many times to count.

and to be fair, you hadn’t expected him to. not really.

because jake wasn’t the kind of person who brought up feelings easily. he spoke in numbers and probability, hid behind logic, folded his uncertainty into late-night lab notes and tentative half-smiles. he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. he barely wore it at all.

so no, you didn’t expect him to bring up the call. you didn’t expect him to repeat the quiet ache in his voice when he said what he said. you didn’t expect him to stand there, heart in hand, and name whatever it was that had been building between you for weeks now.

it’s a new week. there are deadlines to meet, proposals to finalise, and his conference to prep for – the same one he’s been talking about under his breath for the last month, biting his pen caps and pacing in front of his whiteboard when he thought no one was watching. you’d encouraged him about it once, when he was doubting everything and you were too tired to be tactful.

you hadn’t meant for your words to linger.

but maybe they had. maybe something about the way you’d said he was the most brilliant man ever had rooted itself deeper than you realized.

because today, there’s something different in the way he moves.

not obvious enough for anyone else to notice, but you see it. you’ve always been good at reading the quiet things. the little twitches of his hand when he’s nervous. the way his fingers hover over the keyboard just a second too long when he’s overthinking. the crease between his brows when he’s trying to talk himself down from something he might actually want.

and today, he’s… composed. still jake – focused and quiet – but he hasn’t chewed a pen cap once. he hasn’t sighed dramatically and muttered about how he’s probably going to black out halfway through presenting his research.

it’s like…he’s made a decision.

and it’s not until after lunch, when you’re both still riding the inertia of a chaotic morning, that it happens.

you’re seated at your desk, skimming through slides, red-penning a typo in one of the research titles when a shadow falls across your desk.

you glance up.

jake’s standing there. a little uncertain, fingers curled at his side, but his eyes are steady.

“hey,” he says. his voice is low, casual, but there’s something clipped at the edges. like whatever he’s about to say has been reworded in his head a thousand times already.

“hey,” you reply, blinking. “need help with something?”

he doesn’t answer right away. just clears his throat, then leans forward slightly, voice quiet enough that only you can hear. “do you have a minute?”

you nod, confused but curious, and push your chair back. he gestures for you to follow him, and you trail behind, expecting maybe some urgent error in a file, maybe a last-minute check on a layout or venue arrangement or whatever else could’ve possibly warranted a hushed hallway escort.

but he doesn’t lead you to his office.

he walks right past it in fact – past the labs, past the shared workroom, past the break room – and stops near the far end of the corridor, just outside the old faculty lounge that no one really uses anymore.

he opens the door, waits for you to step in first, then closes it behind him.

it’s quiet here. dim lighting, a couple of mismatched couches, and the faint hum of the vending machine. it smells like coffee and old carpet.

jake takes a breath.

“okay,” he says. “so—uh. you know the conference?”

you blink. “the one this weekend?”

he nods. “yeah. that one.”

you tilt your head. “did something happen with it?”

“no – no, it’s all good. i mean…actually, it’s better than good. i’m done with the slides. jay double-checked my data sets this morning and the university’s confirmed the final schedule.” he pauses. “it’s… kind of real now.”

there’s a flicker in your chest – something warm, something proud. you smile softly. “that’s amazing, jake. i told you you’d—”

“i want you to come with me.”

you freeze.

“what?”

jake looks at you then – really looks at you. and it’s not the same quiet, distracted gaze he gives you when you hand him a new report to read or when you tease him about forgetting lunch again. it’s steadier. intentional. like he’s finally stopped letting the moment pass him by.

“i want you to come with me,” he says again, slower this time. “to the conference. it’s in daegu, yeah, but the university’s covering most of it. i can get a plus one – uh, unofficially. it’s allowed, technically. and i just…” he trails off for a second, looking somewhere over your shoulder. “i think i’d do better if you were there.”

your heart stutters. you search his face. “like… as your assistant?”

jake blinks. then quickly shakes his head. “no. not – no. not as my assistant.” his voice catches for a second, then steadies. “as you. just you.”

the silence after that is immediate – and a little unfair.

because now it’s loud in your chest. loud in the stillness between you. loud in the way you suddenly can’t seem to find the right muscles to control your face.

jake scratches the back of his neck, his eyes darting away. “i mean, only if you want to. obviously. you don’t have to. i know it’s last-minute and kind of out of the blue and maybe a little weird, and i’m not great at asking for things, and i wasn’t going to bring it up but then i remembered that—”

at this point, jake stops himself from blabbering. because he knew he was going to bring up friday night, the way your words had stuck with him since then. the way he had put away your note – folded it once, then again – then tucked it inside his wallet like it was something fragile and private, like it meant something he wasn’t ready to say out loud. and maybe it still does, because even now, as he stands in front of you, shifting from foot to foot, eyes fixed anywhere but your own, he doesn’t finish the sentence. doesn’t tell you how often he’s looked at that note since. doesn’t tell you how it had kept him grounded when everything else felt like it was slipping.

you watch him now, shoulders drawn tight under the crisp line of his button-down, lips parted like he’s still weighing the risk of finishing that thought. but then, as if something shifts, he lets out a breath and meets your gaze again, a small, lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“what i mean is,” he says, softer now, “it would mean a lot if you came.”

you open your mouth. nothing comes out.

because this isn’t a follow-up to the phone call. not directly.

but it’s something. it's… more.

you think about all the hours you’ve spent orbiting each other lately. the shared coffees. the exchanged glances. the silence between your desks that somehow doesn’t feel empty.

you think about jake – brilliant, brooding jake – asking you not to help, but to be there. just you.

“you don’t have to decide now,” he adds quickly, mistaking your silence. “i just wanted to ask. and i didn’t want to make it weird. if you’d rather not, i get it.”

“no,” you say, a little too fast. “i mean – yes. i mean—”

you take a breath. start over.

“i’d like to go.”

jake lifts his head. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you nod, smiling now. “i’d like to be there.”

there’s something like relief in his eyes. something almost boyish that softens his features, makes him look like he did that night in the observatory when you stood under a starkissed sky – uncertain, but wanting.

jake lets out a breath, a small, almost sheepish grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"alright then," he says, as if he can’t quite believe it himself. his gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, like he's trying to hold onto this moment, this piece of something new between you two. something that feels... easier now, lighter, like the weight of the unspoken has been lifted just a little bit.

"i’ll send you the details later," jake adds, his voice a little softer now, almost hesitant, like he's afraid of making it more complicated than it has to be. but for the first time, you don’t mind. the words feel good, even if they don’t say everything. they don’t need to.

and then as if caught in a moment of realisation, he pauses, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he realizes what he just said. "actually, you probably already have the details."

he chuckles lightly, a bit embarrassed at himself for the slip-up. "i mean, i guess i just wanted to make sure it was official. and, you know, make it... not weird."

you can’t help but laugh softly, the tension finally easing as the moment shifts into something more comfortable. "it’s not weird, dr. sim. don’t worry."

the name slips off your tongue on impulse more than will. jake doesn’t say anything this time, simply resigns to biting down on his lips but smiling regardless.

he gives you a relieved smile, his eyes softer than they’ve been all day. "right. thanks."

you both stand there for a beat longer than usual, neither of you wanting to be the first to break the silence, but there’s a sense of understanding now. no need for more words. the unspoken things are already there, ready to be discovered when the time comes.

twenty-six.

the next morning, the office feels strangely louder.

not because anything is out of the ordinary. it’s the same rhythm as always – printers humming in the distance, chairs creaking, conversations laced with half-laughed jokes and the occasional echo of footsteps down the hallway. but somehow, all of it feels more intense, more alive. maybe because your brain won’t stop noticing everything today. every time someone walks past jake’s office. every time jake shifts behind his desk. every time you accidentally make eye contact and forget what you were supposed to be doing.

you blame the way your brain has decided to loop the words “as you. just you,” like it’s a new favorite playlist. a sentence dropped casually, nervously, and then buried under stammered disclaimers. and still, it clings. sticks like honey to your thoughts, dripping into every idle second, every empty stare at your screen. you’re trying to be normal. you’re trying so hard.

jake, for the record, is doing a terrible job at being normal too.

it’s not that he’s awkward. jake doesn’t really do awkward, at least not the way most people do. but there’s something off about his calm today. like it’s a little too deliberate. like he’s concentrating too hard on being unaffected. his greetings are polite, measured. he answers your questions with just enough eye contact and just enough of a smile. but there’s a carefulness to the way he moves around you today that wasn’t there before. a precision to the way he chooses his words. and it shouldn’t be driving you insane, but it is.

you barely make it halfway through your second coffee when jay pops his head over the divider between your desks.

“you two are the worst at pretending,” he announces cheerfully.

you blink. “what?”

jay gestures vaguely toward the hallway. “you and our dear doctor sim. you’ve been orbiting each other like emotionally repressed satellites all morning.”

your mouth opens, then closes. “that’s – what does that even mean?”

jay squints at you. “it means i’m right and you know it.”

“i literally don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“okay,” he says slowly, as if humoring a child. “so you weren’t smiling like a teenager after he asked you to go to the conference with him yesterday?”

“i wasn’t—”

“and he hasn’t looked like he’s lowkey planning an interstellar exit every time he sees you today?”

you scowl, heat crawling up your neck. “jay.”

“okay, okay.” he raises his hands in surrender, though the grin never leaves his face. “i’m just saying. it’s very compelling television.”

you groan, dropping your forehead onto the desk.

jay snickers and tosses a wrapped granola bar at you before retreating, humming to himself like a man victorious.

the rest of the morning passes in fragments – emails, adjustments to the schedule, a brief discussion with the logistics team – and all the while, you’re distinctly aware of the time ticking toward the prep meeting you’re supposed to have with jake. you’d agreed to help him finalize the slide decks, sort through the printed materials, and double-check the itinerary.

when you finally knock on his door and peek in, jake’s sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of his desk, papers fanned out around him like constellations.

he looks up immediately. “hey.”

“hey,” you say, a little breathless even though you’ve barely walked two feet. “i brought the revised program list.”

“perfect.” he gestures to the floor beside him. “come on in. i made space.”

you lower yourself to the ground, your shoulder brushing his as you settle in. it takes you exactly three seconds to register how warm the room feels. or maybe it’s just him. he’s in his sleeves-rolled-up mode today – loose collar, fingers ink-smudged from scribbling across his notes, hair a little messier than usual. you try not to stare. you fail a little.

“okay,” jake says, and you focus hard on the papers instead. “so i figured we could split this by session blocks. i’ll walk you through what i’ve got, and you tell me if it makes sense or if i’m completely losing my mind.”

you grin. “deal.”

what follows is a deep dive into color codes, footnotes, and logistics – half of which make no sense to you because you don’t do science and physics the way jake does, but you let him breeze through his keynote speeches,  your eyes flicking across the words he had printed out and annotated on flashcards. and somehow, in the middle of all of it, you both slip into a rhythm. you catch the typos he misses in his presentation. he rephrases the awkward blurbs you hesitate over. you pass him your highlighter without being asked. it’s fluid. comfortable. natural.

except for the moments that aren’t.

like when your hands brush reaching for the same paperclip, and he stills for a second too long.

or when he catches you smiling at a doodle you scribbled into the margin last week that he kept regardless.

or when you mention one of the speakers and he mutters, almost distracted, “you’re the reason i didn’t drop out of this thing.”

you pretend you didn’t hear that one. you both pretend.

it’s a slow afternoon, heavy with the kind of focus that only happens when you’ve got a deadline and too many feelings you’re both avoiding. and somehow, somewhere in the mix of shared eye-rolls and shuffling documents, you forget how easy it is to lose track of time around him. you forget to look at the clock. you forget that people are probably heading out for lunch already. you forget that you haven’t eaten.

that’s a first for even you. until jay appears in the doorway, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“you two,” he says, arms crossed. “you’ve been in here for three hours. did one of you die or fall into a wormhole or something?”

jake blinks up at him. “wait – what time is it?”

jay sighs, stepping inside and snatching the half-empty mug beside jake. “time to take a break, dr. cosmic. go eat and hydrate. stop staring at each other like you’re characters in a tragic novella.”

“i wasn’t—”

“we weren’t—”

jay’s eyes narrow. “out.”

jake stands first, brushing his hands on his slacks before offering you one. you hesitate a second too long before taking it. his palm is warm, fingers steady, and your heart does a quiet little somersault as he helps you up.

jay’s already muttering something sarcastic under his breath when jake looks over at you again.

“i can go grab us something,” he offers. “if you’re still okay to keep working after?”

you nod. “yeah. of course.”

jake’s eyes soften. “okay. i’ll be back in ten.”

you watch him disappear down the hallway, and for the first time all day, you let yourself smile without worrying about what it might mean.

later, after sandwiches and soft laughter and the return of a calm that felt like it belonged only to the two of you – you find yourself alone again in the office. jake’s stepped out to talk to one of the coordinators, and you’re left flipping through the finalized agenda, your fingers ghosting over the notes you’d scrawled beside his name weeks ago.

you don’t even realize he’s returned until he’s standing beside you again, quiet.

“i… meant what i said,” jake says suddenly, voice low.

you look up. “about?”

his gaze is careful. focused. “about wanting you there. not because you’re my assistant. but because you make things easier. i think better when you’re around.”

your throat goes dry.

“and i know i kind of suck at saying stuff like that,” he continues, glancing away like he can’t quite hold the weight of his own words. “but… the other night. the call. i wasn’t just drunk. i meant it. i just didn’t know how to say it sober.”

there’s a beat of silence that stretches a little too long. you try to say something. you really do.

but all you manage is a quiet, “jake…”

he shakes his head, stopping you gently. “you don’t have to say anything. i just… wanted you to know.”

the moment feels suspended in amber – still, slow, fragile. and maybe there’s too much you’re both still figuring out. maybe it’s too early for names and confessions and clearly drawn lines. but it’s not too early for this. for the space between you narrowing. for the truth to inch closer. for something real to begin growing in the light.

outside the window, the sky begins to shift. dusky and pale gold.

inside, it’s warm. quiet. and for once, neither of you rushes to fill the silence.

later that night, your apartment is quiet. too quiet.

you’ve showered, finally managed to eat something, even lit that vanilla candle you always forget you own. your suitcase sits at the foot of your bed, zipped and ready, but your thoughts are anything but. you’re half-propped up against your pillows, legs tangled in the sheets, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly but not seeing a thing.

so when it buzzes, sharp against your palm, you jump a little.

dr. sim (jake).

your thumb hovers over the screen for a second before answering. “hey,” you say, voice low.

there’s a pause on the other end, like he hadn’t expected you to pick up on the first ring. then – “hey,” he echoes, and it’s soft in that way he always gets after a long day. tired, but warm. roughened edges, but still reaching for you.

you smirk a little. “you’re not drunk again, are you?”

he huffs out a laugh, quiet. “no,” he says. “sober as hell. unfortunately.”

“that’s a shame,” you tease gently, shifting to lie more comfortably on your side. “you’re more honest when you’re drunk.”

“i’m honest now.”

there’s a weight to the words that catches you off guard. not defensive. just… sure.

you blink up at the ceiling. “so,” you say, tone lighter. “what’s up, dr. sim? nervous about tomorrow?”

jake sighs, and you can picture him – one hand cradling the phone, the other probably scrubbing at his face, hair all messed up from pacing. “a little. i keep thinking i’ve forgotten something important.”

“you haven’t,” you say, immediate and certain. “you’ve gone over your checklist at least twelve times. and i’ve checked it five times.”

there’s a pause on the other end of the line – not heavy, just quiet. comfortable, almost. you can hear jake shift, the creak of his office chair, the soft tap of his fingers against the desk. he doesn’t answer right away, and you don’t rush him. maybe because this call already feels like the kind of conversation that lives between words, in the hesitations and sidesteps and everything left unsaid.

you lie back against your pillows, the phone pressed to your ear, and exhale slowly. your room is dim now, lit only by the soft amber glow of your nightstand lamp. outside, the city hums low – a distant lullaby. inside, it’s quiet enough that you can hear jake breathing.

“i’m… glad you’re coming,” he says at last. his voice is softer now, closer to what it had been on that late-night phone call – the one you both haven’t mentioned again. like he’s not sure how loud to be with this kind of truth.

you smile at the ceiling. “i’m glad i said yes.”

another pause. then, a sound like him letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. you imagine him there, probably hunched over his desk, glasses slipping down his nose, a hundred crumpled notes and draft slides around him. maybe he's got one hand tangled in his hair.

“i keep thinking about tomorrow,” jake says, voice thoughtful now. “the conference. the presentation.”

“and you’re nervous?”

“terrified,” he says, then laughs quietly, like he’s only half-kidding.

you roll onto your side, tucking the blanket under your chin. “you’ll be brilliant,” you say simply. “you know that, right?”

there you go again, calling him brilliant. like it’s a fact, not a compliment. like you’ve already decided it to be true, the way some people decide the sky is blue or the earth is round. and jake’s quiet for a beat too long – not because he wants to disagree with you, but because you say it like you’ve always known it, and he’s still learning how to believe it.

“i want to be,” he admits, and then, more quietly: “especially with you there.”

it lands gently, but not softly. like a pebble dropped into still water – quiet at first, then rippling outward until it touches everything.

your heart stutters. not in panic. not even in surprise. just that soft jolt of hearing something you didn’t realize you were waiting for until it was spoken aloud.

“you know,” you murmur, “you’re not that terrible at this.”

“at what?” he asks, confused.

you smile. “saying how you feel.”

there’s a beat. then he says your name again – and it’s not slurred this time. it’s clear, careful. like he’s holding it with both hands.

it makes your heart stutter regardless and pull your sheets up to your chin as if it's a shield. you’re the one who fills the quiet this time.

“i’ve been looking forward to this trip,” you say, gently redirecting. “not just because of the conference. it feels like... i don’t know. something different.”

jake is quiet again, and you can hear the shift in his breath, the way he’s turning that over in his mind. you’re not sure if it’s too forward. not sure if you’ve said too much. but then he says:

“yeah. me too.”

the silence that follows isn’t awkward. it’s not even silence, really – not when you can hear the soft thrum of connection, not when his presence seems to stretch across the distance like a thread pulling taut.

eventually, you yawn – quietly, but not quietly enough.

“you should sleep,” he says. “it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

“you should too.”

“i will,” jake replies. but he doesn’t hang up. and neither do you.

you don’t remember exactly when your eyes start to slip closed. only that the sound of his breathing is steady in your ear, grounding you. only that the weight of the day has finally settled, and for once, it doesn’t feel heavy.

you fall asleep before either of you says goodnight.

jake stays on the line a little longer. he doesn’t say anything. just listens.

and in the stillness of his house, alone but not really, he lets himself believe – just for tonight – that maybe this is how something real begins.

twenty-seven.

the morning air is brisk when you step onto the platform, suitcase rolling behind you, fingers still wrapped around a half-finished cup of coffee. the city is just beginning to wake – light bleeding across the buildings, wind curling through narrow lanes, carrying the scent of something warm and sweet from a nearby bakery.

the train is waiting, sleek and silver, idling on the tracks like a held breath. and just ahead, jake stands near the door, his duffel slung across his chest, one hand rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to ease out the tension.

you catch his eye. he smiles.

it’s a small thing. easy. but when he lifts a hand in that casual, awkward little wave, your heart flickers.

neither of you says it out loud – not anything about last night. about the late phone call, his voice soft and uncertain through the line. about the way your voice had gone quiet near the end, how the line had stilled with your breathing. the way he didn’t hang up until long after he should have.

you could bring it up.

but you don’t. he doesn’t either.

instead, he says, “hey,” and takes your suitcase from you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you follow him up into the train carriage, your seat assignments side-by-side. the compartments are small but clean – sunlight streaming through the wide windows, scattering light across the glossy floors. the city slides further away behind you.

jake wrestles your suitcase into the overhead rack with an ease that makes your throat go a little dry – veins shifting under the skin on his arms, shirt stretching slightly at the shoulder. you look away too quickly, pretending to be busy with your sling-bag, cursing yourself silently.

he drops into the seat beside you, lets out a quiet sigh, and rakes a hand through his hair.

“barely slept,” he mutters. “you?”

you shrug, watching the early light catch on his lashes. “some.”

he doesn’t ask why. maybe he already knows.

the train jolts once, then starts to move. slowly at first, and then faster, the city blurring into color as you head toward the edge of everything familiar.

it’s calm. peaceful.

there’s a quiet thrill in your chest – part nerves, part anticipation. the kind you used to feel before field trips or final presentations or nights when something new was about to begin. and it is something new, even if neither of you will name it yet.

you sit shoulder to shoulder, brushing every time the train rocks too far. jake pulls out his tablet, starts scrolling through slides for the presentation you’ve both seen a hundred times. you try to focus on the scenery outside, but your eyes keep drifting.

his hair’s still a little messy from the wind. he’s mouthing something as he reads, tapping the edge of the screen absently. his thumb brushes yours once where your hands rest on the shared armrest, and you both freeze for a beat – but neither of you pulls away.

at some point, he glances over at you.

you’ve settled into your seat by the window, the early sun pooling in streaks across your jeans, your lashes catching light like threads of gold.

you’re dressed casually. comfortable. out of the formal setting the office follows, jake’s still trying to get used to this situation. just you and him together on a train to a different town. yes, it's for work, but maybe he’s hoping for more.

your lips – he notices them before he can stop himself – are glossed, faintly tinted, like it’s nothing at all. like it isn’t absolutely undoing him.

he looks away.

the edge of your knee knocks into his when the train shudders, and he pretends not to notice that either.

you say something about the schedule, about the route from the station to the hotel, maybe the session times – but he’s a beat behind, trying not to get caught in the curve of your mouth.

and then you smile. and god.

jake doesn’t even mean to look, not really, but it’s like gravity – like something in the way your lips curve, gloss catching the light just right, effortless and warm. it hits him all at once. too real. too much. you’re not even trying. you’re just smiling, bright-eyed and easy, saying something about something he’s not listening to, and he’s sitting there like an idiot, pulse thrumming in his ears, trying not to stare at your mouth like a man who’s never seen one before.

his brain short-circuits, rewinds, plays the scene again: the way your smile tugged slow at the corners, how it lingered like it had nowhere else to be. he swallows, shifts slightly in his seat, pretends to zone in on his tablet again. anything to pull his gaze away from your lips, from the subtle sheen still soft in the corner of your mouth.

and god help him, he’s not even thinking straight – just wondering, helplessly, what it might feel like if you smiled against his own lips like that.

and then, with a jolt, he realizes what he just thought.

his brain stutters – trips over itself like a record scratch mid-song – and something tightens, sharp and visceral, in the pit of his stomach. what the hell. he blinks, once, twice, and looks away fast, like that might undo it.

like the thought hadn’t just bloomed wild and uninvited in his chest. he’s not even sure where it came from. it’s not like you’re doing anything. just sitting there, chatting softly, your legs curled under you and your bag tucked by your feet. you’d smiled because you always do, easily, openly, like it costs you nothing, and jake had looked at you like he always does. or so he thought.

but this? this is new and entirely different and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

he tugs at the sleeves of his hoodie, runs a hand through his hair, shifts again in his seat like the discomfort is physical. like he can physically move away from what just flickered through his head. because it wasn’t just the thought of kissing you – it was the way he’d imagined it. the tenderness of it. the tilt of your smile, that faint press of gloss, the way he wanted to feel it up close, wanted to know what it would be like if you laughed into his mouth and leaned into him just a little. if you looked at him like that – but for real. for keeps.

and now he’s warm. too warm. like someone lit a match behind his ears and the heat is blooming down his neck, his spine, searing him with mortification. he should say something. should think of anything else. should not be sitting here next to you on a train, legs brushing and shoulders nearly touching, wishing he could rewind his entire brain five seconds and pretend he’s never had a single thought about your lips.

but you’re still talking – sweet and oblivious – and god, he doesn’t want to ruin this. doesn’t want to make it weird. doesn’t want you to look at him differently.

so he nods along. forces himself to breath, plasters on a smile he’s sure looks too polite and tries not to fidget.

tries not to imagine how your lip gloss might taste.

he keeps his gaze forward after that. keeps his thoughts leashed, jaw tight, expression neutral – like if he just focuses hard enough on the scenery blurring past the window, he can hold the chaos inside at bay. you’re still beside him, warm and so very real, occasionally pointing something out, occasionally laughing at something small. and jake tries. he really does. tries to engage. tries not to overthink the last five minutes of his own brain, of his own treasonous thoughts.

but it’s been a long week. and the train rocks in a rhythm that’s steady and slow, like a lullaby whispered against the tracks. the muffled announcements blur into the hum of passing fields and fading light. at some point, you shift beside him and your shoulder brushes his.

and he exhales. deep. shoulders loosening.

he doesn’t even mean to fall asleep.

but the next thing he knows, it’s your scent grounding him, something soft and familiar. the faintest citrus from your shampoo. the warmth of your coat where it folds against his side. the press of your shoulder, steady against his.

jake’s head dips without him realizing. and when it lands, gently, in the crook between your shoulder and neck, it feels – god, it feels safe. too safe.

you don’t flinch. you don’t move.

and that’s somehow worse.

because he should pull away. should apologize, should be mortified, should do something. but sleep is fogging him too fast, and your presence is too kind, and whatever tension was coiled tight in his spine begins to unravel like thread. his breath evens. his hand, which had been loosely curled in his lap, shifts and brushes against yours where it rests on the armrest – fingers just barely overlapping.

he doesn’t even know he smiles, faint and unconscious.

and you don’t say anything. don’t dare breathe too loud or move too fast. just sit there, spine stiffening for one startled beat before melting back into your seat, watching the reflection of the dusk-streaked window, pretending your heart isn’t skipping out of rhythm.

he’ll probably be embarrassed when he wakes.

but right now – right now, he’s at ease. so you let him rest. let your head lean slightly against his. let the silence stretch between you again, soft and tentative and sweet.

outside, the train barrels ahead. inside, you stay still, heart full of something fragile and unfolding.

when jake wakes, he’s disoriented for a moment. it’s already mid afternoon, which means he’s slept through most of the train ride. the sound of the train is quieter now, the hum of the wheels against the tracks more distant. he blinks rapidly, trying to shake off the grogginess, but it only takes him a split second to realize that his head is still resting on your shoulder. his breath hitches when his eyes flutter open, and for a fleeting moment, he’s caught between the warmth of your proximity and the awkward realization that he’s actually fallen asleep on you.

his pulse quickens. a heat spreads across his face. he lifts his head, moving slowly, careful not to disturb you. but the space feels different now – too intimate, too real. his hand jerks away from where it had been resting against your side, and he clears his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“sorry,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he does when he’s embarrassed. "i didn’t mean to – uh... fall asleep on you."

you glance at him, an almost imperceptible smile tugging at your lips, but you don’t tease him. you’re too gracious for that. instead, you just nod, offering a reassuring, quiet, “it’s fine, jake. you looked like you needed the rest.”

he opens his mouth to say something more, but his words get tangled in the quiet tension that fills the space between you. the train slows, its wheels grinding against the track as the station nears. he has the strangest sensation of wanting to stay here a little longer, in this bubble of peaceful, fragile calm, but the moment evaporates as the train announces its arrival.

you both stand up, moving toward the overhead compartment to grab your bags. as you reach for yours, jake is already there, just a step ahead of you, his hand on your suitcase handle. the gesture is familiar, routine even, but there’s a tension now in the way his fingers brush yours.

“let me grab that for you,” he says, his voice a little too loud in the otherwise quiet train car, almost like he’s overcompensating.

he pulls your bag from the compartment, and the moment his hand closes around the handle, the weight of it shifts awkwardly. his body leans forward slightly, just enough to knock into you. in the same instant, you take a half-step backward, trying to avoid the sudden closeness, but your foot catches on the edge of the seat. the stumble is subtle, a brief moment of instability, but enough for you to lose your balance.

your heart skips a beat as you begin to pitch forward. and then, in one fluid motion, jake’s hand is there, steadying you. his fingers press firmly against your elbow, his body coming up close behind you, his chest brushing against your back in a way that’s entirely accidental but still undeniably there. his breath catches as he steadies you, the proximity more than either of you had bargained for.

“gotcha,” he mutters, his voice low and close to your ear. you feel it in the curve of your spine.

his touch is warm, firm, but not too forceful. just the right amount of pressure to help you regain your balance. and for a brief, dizzying moment, you’re so close you can feel the heat of his breath against your cheek, the sharpness of his gaze as he looks down at you, his face inches from yours. the sudden proximity sends a jolt of electricity through your veins, a shock of awareness you didn’t expect.

“careful,” he says this time, his voice low, almost apologetic, like he didn’t mean to crowd you so much.

you nod, but your heartbeat is too loud, too fast, to say anything more. he’s still holding you by the arm, steadying you, even though you don’t need it anymore. you’re both standing there, the space between you narrowing, the air thick with something unspoken.

“thanks,” you manage, still caught in the closeness, the lingering heat of his hand on your skin.

he nods once, clearing his throat. “yeah, no problem.”

but then, with an awkward shift, he lets go, and the brief tension between you both snaps. he moves to grab your bag from the overhead compartment before you can, his movements slightly more rushed now. he hands it to you, but his fingers brush against yours for a split second, and just like that, the moment fades.

the shuffle of your feet, the awkward adjustment of your bags – it’s all a blur now, overshadowed by the weight of what just happened. you take a steadying breath, trying to find some kind of grounding.

but even as you both shift away from each other, the subtle jolt of awareness remains. jake clears his throat, ruffling his hair, his face flushed just a shade darker than usual, but he doesn’t say anything.

his gaze catches yours for a brief, unsure moment, and then it’s gone, replaced by the busyness of the crowd, the noise of the station pulling you back to the present.

as you step off the train and into the bustle of the station, the world feels suddenly too wide, too full of distractions, and the brief, charged silence between you becomes something heavier. neither of you speaks of it, but you both carry it with you, in the space between your steps, in the quiet of your shared glances.

twenty-eight.

the knock on your door comes soft but persistent, enough to draw you from the low hum of your thoughts.

the ride to the hotel had been a breeze, facilitated by someone who had come from the organising committee for the conference to pick you up. settling into your own separate rooms had also been a smooth process, everything according to the itinerary. by the time all of this had been done, you and jake had both bid each other goodbye and you, for the most part, had slept off the fatigue from the train ride the entire evening.

you had awoken, still dazed and comfortable in a way you would only feel when your back sinks into plush hotel bedding after a long journey and decided to shower.

by the time you’re done, you glance at the clock on the wall, surprised to see how late it’s gotten. it’s a strange sort of quiet in the hotel now. it’s just you, alone in your room, and the sound of a knock you didn’t expect.

you walk to the door with damp hair, the strands clinging to your skin from the shower. the loose tee you threw on after drying off is soft, hanging just right, too relaxed, and you pull at the fabric near your collarbone – letting it slip off just a little more to dry off the dampness still clinging to your skin there.

when you open the door, there’s jake, standing in the hallway with his usual composed but slightly frazzled expression, holding a few pages of notes. his eyes catch yours for a fraction of a second before he’s looking away, clearing his throat.

“hey,” he says, his voice rougher than usual, as if he’s trying to swallow back something he can’t quite manage. “you, uh, got a minute? i... was hoping you could help me with these notes.”

you raise an eyebrow, surprised at the request. you might be imagining it, but he looks… off. he’s standing a little too close, his body stiff, like he’s trying to keep himself in check.

“sure,” you say, a little too easily, but you can’t help it. he’s asking, and there’s no way you can say no.

you open the door wider, motioning for him to come in. he hesitates for a split second, before stepping inside, his gaze flicking back to you, noticing how your damp hair frames your face, how the loose tee clings to your skin just enough to make him forget his next words. the very casualness of it all hits him like a ton of bricks. the way you stand there, completely unaware of the effect you’re having on him.

he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, clearing his throat again. “i… uh, i can’t focus. so i figured… maybe i could go over it with you? it’s… easier with someone else around.”

you nod, catching the hesitancy in his words. it’s odd seeing him like this, so out of his usual element. you try to make the air feel more natural, gesturing to the desk where he can lay his notes out. “of course,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile.

you leave him to it for a moment, moving to adjust your shirt, pulling the hem up as it slides off your shoulder. it’s a subtle motion, but one that catches jake’s attention more than it should. his eyes flicker back to you, a fleeting moment of something in his gaze that lingers just a moment too long.

you sit down at the desk beside him, trying to focus on the papers, but the quiet weight of the moment is almost too much. he’s sitting there, hunched over his notes, totally absorbed, but there’s something about the way he’s so intent on them that makes you watch him a little longer. he’s so focused, so professional when he wants to be, but there’s a quiet vulnerability in the way he rubs his temples or adjusts his glasses for the hundredth time tonight.

your gaze flickers from the papers to him, the curve of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows. you admire how committed he is to getting everything right. how he cares. it’s endearing, but it’s also… distracting.

you let the silence stretch between you, but it’s comfortable now. you start going over the notes, pointing out a few things here and there. the awkwardness is fading slowly, replaced by that quiet focus that comes when two people are in sync with each other, working on something, something small and simple. but still, even as you’re so close, the tension hovers just beneath the surface.

after a while, you glance at the clock. the night is getting late, and you can sense jake’s exhaustion. you feel it in the way he rubs his eyes, the quiet, constant shift of his weight. he’s ready for a break. and neither of you have had any dinner.

you pause, leaning back in your chair, and it’s then that you get the sudden urge to change the pace, to break away from the work. you stand up, stretching a little. “you know, we’ve been at this for a while. how about we get some dinner?”

jake looks up, clearly surprised. “dinner?” jake had, evidently, forgotten about dinner altogether.

you grab your phone and glance toward the door. “maybe we can find something downstairs? i think the hotel has a restaurant that's open late.”

jake blinks, like the concept of dinner is just now dawning on him, and the corners of his mouth tug up in a sheepish smile. “right. food. yeah, that sounds good.”

there’s something boyish about the way he says it, like he’s a little embarrassed to have gotten so wrapped up in his work that he forgot the basics. it makes your chest tighten strangely, fondness blooming in a place you didn’t even realize was hollow.

jake pushes back his chair and stands too, running a hand through his already-messy hair. he looks so casual like this – hoodie sleeves pushed up, his glasses sliding a little down his nose, the tired, endearing kind of handsome that makes your heart stutter without permission.

you slip your phone into your pocket and glance toward the door. “come on, professor. before you starve to death.”

jake huffs a soft laugh, following after you.

the hotel lobby is quiet when you both step into it. most guests have retired to their rooms, and the overhead lights are dimmed to a softer glow. in the distance, past the marble floors and the polished front desk, you spot the hotel's late-night café tucked into a corner – still open, a few stragglers nursing drinks and quiet conversation. a handful of patio doors are propped open beyond it, leading out into a small private garden bathed in warm outdoor lights.

you exchange a look with jake, silent agreement passing between you without a word. the air outside would do you both good.

as you step into the garden, the evening air rushes against your skin, cool enough to raise goosebumps. instinctively, you rub your arms, tugging at the sleeves of the oversized hoodie you had thrown over your head earlier.

jake notices instantly. “here.” without thinking, he tugs the zipper of your hoodie up for you, his knuckles brushing your collarbone in the process. his touch is featherlight but scorching somehow, setting off a tremor of awareness that zips straight down your spine.

you glance up at him, startled by the proximity, but jake just ducks his head, pretending like zipping you up wasn’t the most intimate thing he’s done all night. pretending like this wasn’t the most out of world thing he had ever done in his whole existence. like you weren’t entirely capable of zipping up your own goddamn hoodie like the adult you were.

fortunately, you choose not to say anything, instead letting a quiet thanks fall off your lips before almost stumbling to grab a seat. jake tries not to combust, sliding into the seat across from you, still fidgeting slightly, like he hasn’t quite shaken off the feeling of your skin under his fingers.

he rubs the back of his neck, awkward in a way that makes your chest ache, and squints at the menu like it’s in a language he doesn’t speak.

“you picking something?” you tease lightly, trying to lift the tension sitting between you like mist.

jake hums, noncommittal, still pretending to study the menu even though you both know he’s not reading a word of it.

you grin and close your own menu with a soft thud. “i’ll just get whatever you get,” you say, leaning back in your chair.

jake finally looks up at that, startled, like he wasn’t expecting you to make it so easy for him. his lips twitch in a half-smile.

“careful,” he says, voice low and teasing. “i’m not known for making the best food choices under pressure.”

you laugh, and the sound feels like it cracks something open between you. you don't look away from him when you say, “i’ll take my chances.”

jake stares at you a second too long. you see the moment he forgets to breathe – the tiny catch in his chest – before he blinks hard and waves down the server like his life depends on it.

he orders something simple. grilled sandwiches and soup. comfort food. easy. safe. but none of this feels particularly safe at all, not when his knee keeps brushing yours under the table, not when he’s looking at you like he wants to say something but keeps swallowing the words back.

when the food comes, neither of you speaks. you can sense that he is brooding over something, most likely his own notes floating around in his mind, so you don’t push. you want to say something, but for a while, you focus on the sandwiches in front of you.

jake’s hair is even messier now from the way he keeps raking his hand through it, and you realize it’s a nervous habit. one he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing.

jake tears little pieces off his sandwich without eating them, his hands restless on the table. you sip your water, watching him, letting the silence stretch a little – not awkward, just… tentative. like standing at the edge of something and wondering if it's safe to step forward.

“were you always like this?” you ask lightly, resting your chin in your palm.

he looks up, startled.  “like what?” he says, a little wary, a little amused.

you shrug, smiling. “you know. quiet. careful. the kind of person who pretends he's not nervous even when he obviously is.”

jake lets out a breathy laugh, scrubbing his hand through his hair again. his glasses nearly topple off his nose.

“wow, thanks,” he says dryly, but he’s smiling, too, a little shy. “you make it sound so charming.”

“it is charming,” you say, softer than you mean to.

jake’s eyes flick up to yours, something flickering there, something sharp and searching. he shifts a little in his seat, like he’s suddenly too big for it.

“for the record,” he says after a pause, “i wasn’t always like this.”

you tilt your head, curious. “no?”

jake shrugs, a quick, jerky motion. “i think… i think i just got used to not expecting much. from people.”

he says it lightly like a joke, like a throwaway comment, but there’s something underneath, brittle and tired. you don’t call it out. you just let it sit there between you, a quiet offering.

jake fidgets with the edge of his napkin, folding and unfolding it. his voice is careful when he adds, “sometimes it’s easier to… not count on anyone, you know?”

you nod slowly, heart aching a little.  “yeah,” you say. “i know.”

jake glances at you, quick and searching again, like he didn’t expect you to understand so easily. like he’s not used to being met halfway.

the night hums quietly around you;  the low chatter of other tables, the clink of cutlery, the warm summer air pressing soft against your skin.you want to reach across the table. take his hand. something. anything. but you stay still. you let him keep this moment under his own control.

and jake –he doesn’t know what to say anymore. the very fact that this is the kind of thing that he has never experienced, the way he has never even hinted at anything in his personal life to a stranger, not even his colleagues and he’s here right now, mind churning at the way it wants to spit out all the words stuck in his throat but he doesn’t know how to.

he’s never talked about it before. not like this. not without feeling the need to make a joke of it, to lace it all up in irony and pretend he doesn’t care.

but now you're just looking at him. not flinching. not pushing. not asking for more than he’s ready to give. just sitting there like you're willing to catch whatever he drops without expecting him to be more, or better, or whole.

and something tight and small and stubborn in him – just gives in. like a dam cracking, not breaking, but loosening under the weight of being seen. of being understood. maybe for the first time in longer than he wants to admit.

he glances up, catching your eyes across the table, the way you're holding still like you know he's scared and you're not trying to scare him more.

and jake thinks, wildly, stupidly, i don't know why i'm telling you this. i just... am.

like it's the most natural thing in the world. like trusting you is something his heart decided for him before his head could catch up.

he doesn't quite know why, but he feels lighter. a little bit freer.

the silence stretches between you, but it’s not heavy now. it’s not thick with the unspoken things he wants to hide. it’s… okay.

when you finally speak again, it’s a soft smile in your voice.

“but… i think some people are worth the risk. not everyone leaves. some people stay. even when it’s easier not to.”

jake blinks, the words catching him off guard. he didn’t expect that, and for a moment, his throat tightens again. he feels vulnerable but for some reason, this feels safe. and so, so unfamiliar.

“yeah, well... i don’t usually talk about this stuff,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. his voice is quieter now, like a breath let out after holding it in too long. “i guess i just... i don't know. i’m not sure why, but...”

you let him trail off, and after a moment, you both start to stand. the air between you has shifted – subtle, but there. he’s not entirely sure where it’s going, but he's not quite as terrified as he was walking in.

he’s surprised by how easy it feels to fall into step beside you as you head back towards the lobby, the silence now comfortable in a way that wasn’t there when you first sat down. somehow your steps naturally find themselves taking the path to the garden out front.

the night air is cool, the garden lit only by soft, ambient lights. the space feels serene, the quiet hum of the night wrapping around you both. the path stretches ahead, bordered by low hedges and the occasional bench, the moonlight casting long shadows across the ground.

you walk side by side for a while, neither of you saying much. the peacefulness of the moment settles in, and even though you can’t help but feel the weight of the closeness between you, the silence feels… comfortable.

jake’s hands are shoved into his pockets, his shoulders tense as if he’s not sure what to do with himself. his steps slow a little, his thoughts racing in that familiar pattern of self-doubt, the kind of cycle he’s lived with for years. he’s so used to keeping everything in, staying controlled, staying guarded. so used to avoiding this kind of space, this kind of proximity where someone else could see him, could... feel him.

but walking beside you now, there’s something different. his mind drifts to that conversation earlier – how easy it was to let the words slip out. maybe it was the setting. maybe it was you. he doesn’t know. but there’s a softness to the way you’re letting him be, letting him exist without the usual weight of expectations, and it’s throwing him off in the best way possible.

the light breeze brushes against your skin, and you pull your jacket tighter around yourself. jake notices, the faintest flicker of concern in his chest. he’d noticed how the night air had started to chill, but he hadn’t said anything, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. it’s an automatic response when you see someone close to you even the slightest bit uncomfortable, and without thinking, the words tumble out of his mouth – 

“are you cold?” jake asks, his voice low, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. he feels a slight awkwardness rise in his chest, but the concern outweighs it.

you glance at him, a little surprised by the question, but you shake your head, offering a small smile. “i’m okay. just a little chill, nothing to worry about.”

jake doesn’t quite believe you, but he doesn’t press. he’s learned over the years that pushing people to open up rarely works. but there’s something in the way you’ve stayed close without saying much that makes him feel… seen. he’s used to being the one who keeps things in check, the one who doesn’t allow too much to slip through. but with you, it feels different. he wants to give, to open up, but he’s not sure where the line is anymore.

you glance over at him, watching the way the moonlight highlights the sharp angles of his jaw, the subtle flex of his shoulders under his shirt, the way his breath comes out in quiet puffs in the cold air. your heart stirs at the sight, the thought creeping in again – the one that makes you wonder just how close you’re really willing to let yourself get to him.

his head shifts slightly, and suddenly his eyes lock with yours. it’s just a brief moment. but there’s something different in his gaze now, a flicker of heat there that wasn’t there before. and you feel it too, the way your pulse stutters, the way your body reacts to his proximity. it’s no longer just the quiet intimacy of the walk; it’s something more, something charged.

“do you want to sit for a while?” you ask, your voice quieter than before, trying to break the spell that’s settled between you both. there’s a small bench nearby, nestled against the edge of the path, half-hidden by a low shrub. it’s an excuse – something to keep the momentum of the night going without having to say too much.

he nods, his expression unreadable, but his eyes never leave yours as he follows you to the bench. he sits first, and you take a seat beside him, close but not touching. the air between you feels thick, but you’re both pretending it’s not, for now. you fold your hands in your lap, looking out over the garden, but every inch of your skin is aware of the space between you.

jake shifts slightly, and suddenly, his leg brushes against yours. the contact is so accidental, so brief, that you almost think it’s your imagination. but then, it happens again – his thigh grazing yours just enough that you can’t ignore it.

your breath hitches, and you try to brush it off, pretend it didn’t affect you the way it did. but you can feel the heat from his body now, the warmth of his side, the steady thrum of his presence next to you. your fingers itch to reach out, just to feel him. but you don’t. you can’t.

“sorry,” jake murmurs, his voice soft, almost embarrassed, as if he’s the one feeling the tension. he pulls his leg back just a little too quickly, the motion awkward, and you catch the way his eyes flick down to your hands before meeting your gaze again.

you shake your head quickly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “it’s fine,” you say. the words feel like a safe way to keep the conversation light, to mask the strange fluttering in your chest.

but it’s not fine, is it? not really. the small brush of his leg against yours has set off something you weren’t prepared for. a pulse of heat running straight through your veins, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. it’s impossible to ignore now. the attraction, the way your body reacts to his presence, the way his proximity makes your heart race in a way it shouldn’t.

jake doesn’t seem to know what to say after that, his eyes flicking everywhere except to you. it’s almost like he’s trying to distance himself, trying to regain control of the situation, but you both know it’s not going to work. not now.

you look up at the sky, trying to clear the thoughts in your mind, but it’s hard when you feel his gaze still lingering on you, even from the corner of your vision. he’s just there, so close, the air between you thick and heady. every breath you take feels like it’s somehow shared with him.

and then, in a moment that feels like it’s been drawn out for far too long, you feel him shift again. this time, his hand brushes against your fingers, his touch fleeting but deliberate, like it’s a test – a question without words.

your heart skips a beat, and you don’t pull away. you can’t. instead, you let your fingers linger just a moment longer, your pulse quickening as his hand hovers near yours, unsure whether to close the distance.

and then, without thinking, you let your hand slip just a little closer to his, your fingertips brushing against his palm. the touch is brief, but it feels like a spark. and for the first time tonight, you’re not sure who made the first move.

jake’s breath catches, and for a split second, everything goes still. the world, the garden, the night, all fade away until it’s just you and him and the pulse of something between you. it’s a breath away from something more, and you can feel the shift, the weight of the moment settling around you both.

the moment hangs in the air, thick and heavy with possibility. you can almost taste it, the way your heart races, the way your body hums, the way his body leans just a little closer, the barest shift in his posture that tells you he’s feeling it too.

and then, very selfishly, you both hope that the night doesn’t end.

twenty-nine.

somewhere between the chaos of the morning and the remnants of last night’s unspoken almost, you find it impossible to actually have a conversation with jake.

you had woken up in your room, tangled under your sheets in a comfortable daze. and the second your eyes had opened and brain started to function, you had thought of last night. the soft touches, the lingering gaze and well, everything else you couldn’t possibly put into words.

you had gotten ready with a smile on your face, looking forward to grabbing breakfast with jake, checking your reflection twice in the mirror before bounding off to his room and knocking. surprisingly, there’s no response.

that’s weird, you think, checking your phone to see if there’s a message from jake himself but there’s nothing. and you know the conference starts in about three hours, so there’s no way he’s still asleep.

so you head downstairs instead, the quiet thrum of anticipation already thick in the air. the breakfast hall is lively, a low buzz of conversation floating over clinking plates and coffee machines sputtering out cappuccinos. your eyes sweep over the room once and then pause.

there he is.

jake’s seated at one of the round tables near the window, surrounded by a few other presenters you vaguely recognize from the program brochure. he’s leaning slightly forward, listening intently to someone speak, his brow furrowed in that way he does when he’s trying not to interrupt. he’s got a black pen in hand and is absently tapping it against the rim of his coffee cup, nodding slowly at something being said. professional, composed, quietly magnetic in the way he always is when he forgets anyone’s watching.

except, he catches you. his eyes lift, and the moment they meet yours across the hall, his expression softens. it’s small, barely there, but unmistakable: a smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth like he’s been waiting to see you.

your heart stutters.

still, you don’t go over. you just offer a little wave, trying not to look too obviously giddy as you grab a plate and move toward a quiet corner table. you don’t want to interrupt. he looks like he’s mid-conversation, and besides, it’s fine. you just thought…well, you thought maybe you’d have breakfast together.

you’re halfway through buttering a piece of toast when a familiar voice speaks beside you.

“hey,” jake says, placing a fresh cup of coffee next to your plate before he sets his own down and sinks into the seat across from you. “i’m sorry. got roped into an early breakfast by the committee folks.”

you blink, startled, and then glance at the cup.

“no, it’s okay,” you say, a little breathless, trying not to let how relieved you feel show too much. “really. it’s fine.”

but then you look up, and he’s already watching you. his hair is perfectly in place, his suit crisp, and his tie knotted with the kind of precision that suggests he’s been up and ready for a while now. there's not a wrinkle on him, not a single sign of hesitation. he looks calm, professional, every bit the man about to speak in front of a room full of scholars. and yet, when he smiles at you – soft and a little shy around the edges – it’s not polished at all. it’s just jake.

you catch the way his gaze lingers on you too. the way his eyes flicker briefly to your lips, the faint shine of your gloss catching the light. your hair’s loose, falling around your shoulders in a way he’s come to realise he likes too much. he takes all of you in with that one quiet look, and somehow, your heart forgets how to beat properly for a moment.

and he’s trying not to stare. he really is. but your lips keep catching the light, and your skin glows in the soft morning hue, and he’s suddenly forgetting the names of the other people he’d just been talking to. you look so good it almost hurts to look at you directly. polished, but still you. familiar, but somehow brand new under this hotel lighting and soft linen air.

he wonders if you know what you’re doing to him just by being here, just by smiling that gentle smile and meeting his eyes like you’ve already forgiven him for missing breakfast. he wants to say something else – anything, really – but it all knots in his throat

he takes a sip of his coffee, eyes flicking down to the rim of his cup before lifting again to you, softer now. “i wanted to grab breakfast with you,” he says, voice quieter this time, just between the two of you. “sorry.” he adds, like a quiet confession. like one missed breakfast with you was the end of the world.

you shake your head quickly. “no, really, it’s fine. you look like you’ve had a whole day already.”

he laughs, short and dry. “feels like it.” then, his gaze lingers on you again, this time more intentional. like he wants to say something but isn’t sure how.

he sets his cup down, fingers tracing the sleeve absently before he finally asks, “will you meet me in an hour? my room. i’ll be finishing up some prep, but… i just. i’d like to see you before it all starts.”

your breath stills at his words – not from surprise exactly, but from the sheer gentleness of them. there’s something tentative in the way he says it, like he’s not asking for much, like he doesn’t know he already has your full attention, your full heart, maybe.

you nod, eyes meeting his. “yeah,” you say, and it comes out steadier than you expect. “i’ll be there.”

his shoulders relax a little, the tiniest bit of tension unspooling from him. he leans back in his chair like he’s allowing himself to exhale. “good,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

you glance at the time, realizing the hour will pass quicker than either of you would like, but right now, he’s here and you don’t want to ruin the moment by rushing.

still, he checks his watch, reluctantly rising from the table with an apologetic tilt to his head. “i should go,” he says. “there’s one last meeting with the panel before we start.”

you try not to look too disappointed. “okay. i’ll see you soon, then.”

he hesitates, like he wants to say more, maybe even reach out but instead, he just smiles. that shy, uneven curve of his lips you’ve come to memorize. “see you soon,” he echoes.

and then he’s walking away, coffee cup still in hand, hair slightly tousled despite the perfection of his suit.

you don’t move for a while after he leaves.

the breakfast hall swells around you again – cutlery clinking, chairs scraping, small conversations humming from every table – but you sit there quietly, hands wrapped around your coffee cup like it’s the only anchor you’ve got. your heart feels oddly light and heavy at the same time, like someone’s gone and opened the blinds in your chest but forgotten to take the weight off your ribs.

you drink the rest of your coffee slowly, eyes drifting to the exit he disappeared through.

you rise from your seat eventually, plate barely touched, and head back to your room to freshen up. you try not to stare at your reflection too long, but your fingers still linger a moment too long near your lip gloss. you reapply it without thinking.

when the clock nears the hour mark, your nerves start to hum. not quite nerves, actually. something softer and  hopeful, stupidly so.

his room is warm with morning light when you knock softly, fingers curling at your side as you wait. jake opens the door almost immediately, like he’d been pacing by it, waiting for you. somehow, in that one hour timeline, he had managed to lose his blazer, which lay slung over the back of a chair. his sleeves were rolled up and his tie... half-done, hanging crookedly around his neck.

you step inside, careful and quiet, like the walls might echo with whatever's built up between you two. but jake’s eyes soften the second they meet yours, and somehow, the nerves fade just a little.

“hey,” he says, voice a little rough around the edges. like maybe he hasn’t spoken much this morning, or maybe he’s just been thinking too hard. you understand the feeling.

“hey,” you echo, eyes scanning over him without meaning to. his hair is slightly tousled in a way that’s almost unfair. he’s always been handsome, but right now, with the daylight pooling through the curtains and his shirt sleeves rolled up, he looks like something out of a dream you never quite let yourself have.

you reach up before you can think better of it, fingers brushing a lock of hair back into place. he freezes, ever so slightly, as your touch lingers.

“i—” you start, faltering for half a second. “you had a bit sticking up.”

jake smiles then. slow, soft. “thanks.”

you don’t pull your hand away immediately. it’s a tiny thing, fixing his hair. but for you, it’s a step. a quiet way of saying i’m still here.

you watch as jake adjusts the cuff of his sleeve, his movements slightly more rushed now that the conference is looming just ahead. you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens every now and then, like he's trying to prepare himself for something bigger than he’s willing to admit.

you’re standing by the dresser, fumbling with the hem of your blouse. your fingers feel suddenly unsteady, and you almost want to laugh at yourself. you’d spent all night thinking about this moment, but now that it’s here, now that you’re in his room, with him so close, you’re not sure what to do with yourself.

jake catches your gaze in the mirror, and there’s a softness to his look that makes your heart skip. almost instinctively, you find yourself standing behind him, your hands hovering near his tie.

"can i?" you ask, your voice quieter than usual, unsure if you should make the first move. you’re hesitant but steady in a way that surprises you. his eyes meet yours through the mirror, and you see something soft, something genuine.

he nods, just a small movement, and he’s turning to you fully then, letting you adjust his tie. the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers sends a shiver up your spine, but you keep your focus, trying to make the moment last just a little longer.

you smooth the fabric with gentle hands, and as you do, his breath hitches ever so slightly, his eyes darting away from yours for a second before meeting your gaze again.

you brush another stray strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. his gaze is fixed on you now, but you can’t quite read it. it’s too much, too intense, and for a moment, you’re afraid you might lose control of the situation altogether.

you swallow, nerves suddenly tight in your chest. "you’re going to do great," you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. it’s meant to comfort him, to steady him, but when your eyes catch his, you realize it means something else. you want him to know you’re here, that you’re not going anywhere. not after last night. not after everything. you’re here, and you mean it.

jake’s fingers twitch, almost imperceptibly, like he’s about to reach for something. his hand hovers over the breast pocket of his suit jacket, the one where he’s kept the note you had left him all those nights ago. the one that’s tucked safely away in the folds of his suit, hidden but there, as much a part of him now as anything else.

"here," you say, breaking the silence. you pull something small from your pocket, your fingers trembling slightly as you hand it to him. "i thought you might like these."

he looks at the tiny box, his brows furrowing in curiosity. when he opens it, his eyes widen in surprise. a pair of star-shaped cufflinks, delicate and elegant, their silver studded surface catching the light just right. you watch as his fingers hover over them, his touch reverent.

jake’s eyes stay fixed on the cufflinks for a long moment, as if trying to make sense of the unexpected gift. his breath catches slightly, a barely-there exhale, before he lifts his gaze back to you, an unspoken question in the air between you two.

“they’re... perfect,” he says softly, like he’s not sure how to react to something so personal. his fingers brush over the silver stars again, their sharp points reflecting the light in the room, their smallness somehow giving them a sense of significance.

you swallow, unsure what to say. a thousand thoughts are racing through your mind. you had picked them out because they reminded you of him, of his quiet brilliance and the way he always seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, even when he tried not to. but now, you’re not sure if they’re too much, if they’re too... intimate.

"i just... thought you'd like something to remind you of today," you say, your voice softer than you expect, as if your words are a little too fragile for this moment. "something small, but... something that means something."

“thank you,” he says, his voice low, and for the first time today, he sounds genuinely moved, like he’s struggling to find the words.

you nod, heart fluttering in your chest. “you’re welcome,” you whisper, suddenly shy under the weight of his gaze.

jake hesitates, his hand still hovering near the cufflinks as if he’s not sure what to do with them. then, as if he’s made a decision, he looks up at you again. his eyes, usually so sure and measured, hold something different now – a softness, a flicker of uncertainty that makes your heart skip.

“would you... would you mind helping me put them on?” he asks, his voice still low, but there’s something new in it. a quiet, unspoken request, as if asking for more than just the simple act of fastening the cufflinks. his fingers twitch at his side, itching to do something but uncertain what that something is.

you hesitate for a moment, your pulse quickening, but you don’t say no. instead, you step forward, your hand reaching out to take the cufflink from him. your fingers brush against his palm as you do, and for a split second, the connection between you two feels electric, as if the room itself is holding its breath. it’s simple, just a touch, but it sends a rush of warmth through you. the moment feels charged in a way that makes your chest tighten.

when you finish with the cufflink, you pause for a beat, not ready to pull away just yet. the space between you feels charged with something more than just the act of fastening a cufflink. your heart beats faster, thudding against your ribs as you find yourself wanting to say something else, to tell him how much this all means. how much he means.

but before you can find the words, jake breaks the silence, his voice low and unexpectedly raw. “thank you,” he says again, his eyes soft, lingering on you. and in that moment, you feel like the words are carrying more weight than they ever have before.

you nod, offering a small smile, but the air between you two feels heavier now, filled with unspoken things. you take a step back, but just as you do, jake’s hand gently catches yours. it’s the smallest touch, but it sends a rush of warmth through your entire body, and you freeze for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

his fingers curl around yours, a subtle yet deliberate move, and your breath catches in your throat.

“you’re here, right?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. the question is simple, but the way he asks it, the way his eyes search yours – it feels like more than just a reassurance. it feels like a question that’s been lingering in his mind for a long time, a question that has no easy answer, but one that he needs to hear.

you squeeze his hand gently, your heart pounding. “i’m here,” you say, your voice steady, but the weight of the words hits you in ways you hadn’t expected. it’s true, isn’t it? you are here. you are staying.

jake exhales softly, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “i don’t want to do this without you,” he admits, the words raw and vulnerable, like he’s finally letting the guard he’s kept up for so long slip away. it’s the kind of honesty that takes you by surprise, leaving you breathless in its wake.

you meet his eyes, and for a moment, you both just stand there, silent and connected in a way that feels more real than anything else. and as much as you want to say more, you find that there’s no need. not right now.

instead, you simply nod, your heart swelling in your chest. “you don’t have to,” you whisper back. “i’ll be right here.”

“i should go,” he says, glancing at the time. “they want us mic’d up in twenty minutes.”

you nod, stepping aside as he gathers the rest of his things. and then he’s gone.

you’re left in the quiet hum of the room, heart still skipping beats like it can’t decide whether to calm down or keep spiraling. you glance at your watch, and for once, you wish time would speed up – because something about today feels different. like maybe it’s not just about the work anymore. maybe it never really was.

you smooth your blouse, take a breath, and leave.

you’ll see him again in the next room. and this time, you’ll see him in all his glory.

thirty.

the room is full of people, the buzz of conversation giving way to the soft hum of anticipation. jake stands at the front, a calm presence amid the sea of experts, each of them waiting for the presentation to begin. his fingers tap lightly against the podium, a quiet rhythm that betrays the nerves he’s trying so hard to hide.

you sit at the edge of the room, watching him with a sense of pride swelling in your chest. the way his eyes scan the crowd, his posture straightening as he takes in the energy of the room – there’s something undeniably magnetic about him in this moment. you know he’s capable of handling all the eyes on him, but there’s still a flutter of uncertainty in the way he checks the slides one last time before diving in.

you shift in your seat, trying to calm your nerves, even though they’ve been buzzing ever since you walked in. the truth is, you don’t understand much of what’s about to happen. the intricate details of his research, the equations, the complex ideas – it’s all a little above your head. but that doesn’t matter. you helped him prepare for this. you helped him build this presentation, slide by slide, even if you’re not entirely sure what half of it means.

the first slide appears on the screen, a complicated diagram that you recognize as something you stared at together late into the night. your lips move along with the words, mouthing the explanations you helped him write, even though you don’t fully grasp the details yourself. 

every pause he takes, every slide change, you’re there. mouthed words, shared memories of long nights at the office, every moment of helping him make sense of something that was so far out of your league. it’s all here, woven into this quiet, unspoken bond.

jake’s voice fills the room, steady and confident now, his presentation flowing seamlessly. you can tell he’s found his rhythm, the nervousness fading away as he gets lost in the data and the patterns he knows so well. his eyes shine as he speaks, the passion for his work clear in every word. and even though you still don’t understand most of it, you find yourself captivated by the way he’s able to make something so complex feel so easy.

at one point, you catch his gaze again, just for a second. there’s a flicker of recognition there, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his lips as if he’s acknowledging that you’re there, that you’re with him through all of this. it’s quiet, but it’s enough. enough to remind you that even if you don’t understand everything about his work, you understand him. and right now, that feels like more than enough.

the presentation continues, and the room is hanging on his every word, but all you can think about is how he looks so different up there; so confident, at ease, alive in a way that you didn’t always see. you find yourself smiling quietly, mouthing along with him once more as he slides into the final portion of his talk, the culmination of everything he’s worked so hard for.

and when the presentation finally wraps up, you can’t help but feel a rush of pride. jake stands at the front, looking over the audience, his posture taller than it was when he first walked in. the applause that follows is warm and genuine, and you’re right there in the back, clapping along with everyone else. he turns his head for a split second, catching your eye, and you can’t help but smile wider, mouthing a simple “you did great.”

he nods, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer, before he steps down from the podium to join the group, but that connection remains. he did it. and you were right there, every step of the way.

by the time the conference has wrapped up, and the buzz of conversations fills the air. you linger in the back of the room for a moment, feeling the weight of everything. jake’s presentation was flawless – and you’re not the only one who thinks that. 

the conversations around you are filled with praise, business card exchanges, and eager discussions about future collaborations. you watch as he’s swept into another conversation with a group of senior researchers, his bright smile and quick wit doing the heavy lifting, while you stand at the edges of it all, feeling a strange sense of distance.

the post-event dinner and networking session is the final hurdle. it’s all very professional, very academic. no glitzy gowns or champagne toasts. just a buffet of finger foods, awkward mingling, and endless conversations about research, funding, and collaborations. there’s an undercurrent of tension too, though – academic egos, the unspoken need to impress, to position yourself in the right way. it all feels too much, and yet you can’t escape it.

you glance around again. jake is still deep in conversation, his face animated as he talks with a group of prominent researchers. you can’t help but feel a twinge of something – pride, maybe, but also a little loneliness. for all the people surrounding him, there’s still something about watching him from the sidelines that makes your chest tighten. you want to be part of the conversation. you want to speak with him. but you know that won’t happen until he’s finished being the center of attention.

a soft sigh escapes your lips, barely audible, but enough to remind you how weary you feel. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the slight discomfort of standing for too long, and the buzzing in your head grows louder. you scan the room, searching for a reason to get involved again. the conversation around you is all the same – research talk, industry lingo, polite but distant. it’s exhausting.

a tray of appetizers passes by, and you absentmindedly grab a couple of things off it, nibbling without much interest. it doesn’t matter what’s on the tray anyway. you’re not really tasting the food, more just chewing to keep your hands busy. the thought of having a real conversation, something deeper, is gnawing at you now. something about all of this just doesn’t feel right.

you’re starting to wonder if it’s time to slip away when you spot jake again, still talking but now seeming to peel himself away from the crowd. there’s a slight hesitation in his steps, a subtle shift in his posture that tells you he’s likely looking for an escape. he notices you across the room, and for a moment, you lock eyes.

as he makes his way toward you, you try to steady your breath, your pulse quickening in your chest. this is it. the chance you’ve been waiting for, the conversation you’ve been putting off all day. he stops in front of you, and for a brief moment, the noise of the room fades away, leaving just the two of you standing there, caught in the unspoken tension.

“hey,” jake greets you softly, his voice familiar and warm. he’s a little breathless, like he’s been moving between too many people too quickly. “sorry about that. got caught up in all the conversations.”

you give him a small smile, the exhaustion of the day still weighing on you. “it’s okay. you’re kind of a big deal tonight, huh?”

jake chuckles, but there’s a slight edge to it, a nervousness that he tries to mask. “you could say that,” he replies, scratching the back of his neck, clearly still coming down from the high of his successful presentation. “i just…i don’t know. it’s a lot. i didn’t expect it to be this... overwhelming.”

you nod, understanding more than he knows. you’ve seen the way he’s handled the spotlight all day, how easily he’s slipped into the role of being admired and praised. but behind it, there’s a hint of discomfort, a desire to pull back and catch his breath, maybe just for a moment.

“you did great,” you say quietly, your voice a little softer than you intended. “seriously, everyone was talking about how amazing your presentation was.”

jake smiles, but there’s a flicker of something else behind his eyes, something deeper. “thanks,” he says, voice low, as if the weight of your words means more than just praise. “it means a lot, hearing that from you.”

the moment stretches, filled with things neither of you can say. but before either of you can break the silence, a group of researchers approaches, their attention immediately turning to jake.

“oh hey, dr. sim, that was a fantastic presentation!” one of them greets him enthusiastically.

“yeah, seriously, we were all really impressed!” another chimes in.

the conversation turns to you when one of them glances at you. “and who’s this?”

you smile, trying to keep it casual. “i’m just his assistant,” you say, voice light, though you feel a knot tighten in your stomach. “i help with the logistics, mostly.”

the change in their demeanor is almost imperceptible, but it stings. they glance at you for just a moment – polite, but distant – before their focus shifts back to jake. their attention is fully on him now, and you feel the weight of it. you watch as they exchange pleasantries, their questions directed solely at jake, with barely a second thought for you.

you stand there, just on the periphery, feeling smaller and smaller with each passing second. it's not that anyone’s being overtly rude or dismissive – no, it’s the quiet things that sting. the way their attention fades from you, the slight shift of their posture as they turn back to jake, as if they’ve finally placed you into the category they understand: assistant.

you want to leave. the air is suddenly thick, suffocating, like it’s too much to bear in your chest. but instead, you stay. you force yourself to stand there, a smile frozen on your lips, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your drink as you watch the conversation unfold in front of you.

jake notices, of course. you don’t know why you’re surprised by that – he’s always so attuned to the smallest shifts in the room, to the unspoken things that others might miss. but when his gaze flickers back to you, you see it. a flicker of something, maybe guilt, maybe frustration, but it’s enough to make you take a deep breath.

you stand there, feeling the heaviness of the situation, watching as the conversation moves further away from you. they’re all hanging on every word jake says, his presence suddenly the center of attention. it’s not that they mean to ignore you – it’s just that you’re the assistant, the one who fades into the background. and for some reason, tonight, that feels like more than you can bear.

“well, i should probably catch up with a few others,” jake says, cutting in smoothly when the conversation lingers just a little too long. “but thank you for the kind words, i really appreciate it.” his voice is polite, but there’s an edge to it now, something that wasn’t there before.

the group nods, seemingly unaware of the tension, but you catch the way their focus shifts back to jake, no longer sparing another glance in your direction. it’s as if they’ve already moved on, the conversation over before it even truly began.

you don’t look at him as he approaches – something about that would be too much, too raw right now. instead, you take a slow sip of your drink, pretending to be absorbed in the conversation nearby, though your mind is miles away.

he stands next to you for a moment, silent. neither of you says anything at first, the weight of the unspoken words lingering in the space between you.

“i’m sorry,” he finally says, and there’s an edge of frustration in his voice that you don’t quite recognize. you glance at him, meeting his eyes for a fraction of a second before looking away, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“you don’t have to apologize,” you say, your voice almost too quiet. “it’s just—”

“no, it’s not just that,” he interrupts, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar way that makes him seem younger, almost unsure. “it’s not... just you. it’s... me.”

you raise an eyebrow, surprised by his admission. “what do you mean?”

“i hate that they did that.” his words come out sharp, more frustrated than you’d expected. “it’s like they completely... disregarded you, just because of your role.” he glances down at you briefly, his voice softening. “i know it’s not just a title. i hate that they reduced you to that.”

you open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. instead, you let out a breath, realizing that you’re finally hearing him say it out loud, finally acknowledging the difference between what he feels and what others might see. it doesn’t make everything better, but it helps.

and yet, the space between you two still feels so... distant. there’s something lingering in his eyes, something more than frustration. something you can’t quite place.

“you don’t have to say that, jake,” you finally manage to say, shaking your head. “i know what i am here.”

he winces, his gaze flicking away, and for a brief moment, you both just stand there, neither sure how to move forward.

“i’m sorry,” he repeats, quieter this time. “i don’t want to treat you like... like you’re just...” he struggles to find the right words. “i don’t want you to feel small. not when you’ve done so much for me.”

his words are soft, earnest, and they hit you in a way you didn’t expect. the weight of everything that’s been building, the distance, the tension – it all suddenly seems too much to hold in.

you let out a soft breath, steadying yourself before you speak.

“then what am i to you, jake?”

the words slip out quieter than you intend, but they land with weight. you’re not asking to be reassured. you’re asking for clarity. for the truth. for something real in the space where everything has felt suspended.

he looks at you sharply, like he wasn’t expecting that – like it never even occurred to him that you’d say it out loud.

you continue, a little bolder now, your voice steadier than before. “i mean… if you don’t want me to feel small, if it’s not just about work…then what exactly is this? what am i to you, really?”

jake exhales, slowly. his hand drops from the back of his neck, but he still doesn’t look at you. “you’re…” he starts, but falters.

and that’s what hurts. that he still doesn’t know. or won’t say. or can’t.

you step back slightly, the chill of the moment creeping in even under the warm lights around you.

“it’s okay if you don’t know,” you say, trying to keep your voice even, though there’s a tightness behind your ribs now. “but i wish you wouldn’t make it seem like i mean more than you can let on.”

“i’m not,” he says quickly. “i’m not pretending it doesn’t matter. i just…” he finally meets your eyes, and for once, he’s not hiding. “i don’t know how to say what this is. i don’t even know if i can afford to say it.”

there’s a pause. you tilt your head, confused. “afford to?”

“i told you, i don’t like when people leave,” jake says, quiet but sure. “and you…you’ve been the one person i never had to chase. you’ve just been there. always.”

he swallows hard.

“so if i say it,” he continues, voice rough now, “if i say how much you mean to me… and you still leave… i don’t know what that does to me.”

you nod slowly, letting his words settle. letting them bruise.

then, just above a whisper, you ask, “jake… if you’re so afraid of people leaving… would it even matter if i promised to stay?”

it’s not an accusation. it’s not even desperation. it’s just the question you’ve been carrying in your chest for too long.

and jake – he flinches like the words physically hit him. like you’ve put a name to the exact thing he’s been running from.

his lips part slightly, but he doesn’t speak. for once, jake sim – always so composed, always so careful – is completely, visibly caught off guard.

because he’s thought about this. he’s thought about you staying. he's wanted it more than he's let himself admit. he’s wanted it in the quiet, in-between moments: in the way you’d nudge his coffee closer without saying a word, in the scribbled notes you left on his desk when you knew he’d had a long day, in the way your presence felt like something steady in a life he was always bracing to watch unravel.

he’s wanted it in the seconds before you walked into a room, when he caught himself hoping you’d sit closer than you needed to.

he’s wanted it in the way your laugh made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he was someone worth sticking around for.

but he's also thought about what happens if he lets himself believe it.

“i don’t know,” he finally says, his voice barely audible. “i want to say yes. i want to say that’d change everything.”

you stare at him, waiting.

he looks back at you, and you the storm behind his eyes, the quiet war between wanting and fearing, between holding on and staying guarded.

“but i think,” he says, slower now, steadier, “i’m scared that if i let myself believe someone would stay… and then they don’t…” his voice falters. “it’s not just disappointment. it’s confirmation.”

you blink, taken aback. “confirmation of what?”

he doesn’t answer right away. just shifts, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“that maybe i was never enough to stay for,” he finally says. “that’s what i’ve always been afraid of.”

the air feels too still now. too full. you want to reach for him. you want to say you are enough, you’ve always been enough, but something in your chest tightens.

because he’s not really asking you to say it. he’s saying this because he doesn’t want to risk needing to hear it.

you look at him, at the boy who talks about constellations like they’re constants, who studies collapsing stars but doesn’t know how to hold onto something without bracing for its end.

and in a voice so quiet it almost breaks you, you say, “then maybe it was never about me staying at all.”

his eyes shoot back to yours.

“maybe it’s about whether you ever intended to meet me halfway.”

jake opens his mouth, but before he can respond, voices cut through the space between you. someone calling his name. a few colleagues walk by, catching sight of him, waving him over.

the moment cracks. you step back. and he hesitates – his hand twitching like he might reach for you. but he doesn’t.

and that’s all the answer you need.

you set your glass down gently on a nearby table. the clink of it feels final.

you don’t look at him again. you just turn and walk away – through the lobby, past the soft hum of conversation and clinking silverware, out into the night.

because you did promise to stay.

but jake never promised he’d be ready when you did.

thirty-one.

you skip breakfast.

not intentionally, not really. it’s more of a quiet decision. a quiet avoidance. the ache in your chest hasn’t gone away since last night, and the idea of sitting through a meal, pretending everything’s fine, pretending you didn’t ask him what you asked, pretending you didn’t want the answer more than you should have and it’s unbearable.

so you pack. methodically, in silence. you fold your clothes with more care than necessary. brush your teeth with your eyes on the faucet instead of the mirror. it’s easier not to look at yourself this morning.

there’s still a part of you hoping he’ll knock. even if it’s just to check in. even if it’s awkward. but your phone stays silent, your door untouched.

you meet him in the hotel lobby at 9:02.

jake had been surrounded when you arrived. some of the other researchers were still buzzing about last night’s sessions, laughing too loudly, sharing plans for future collaborations and projects. and jake, with his polite nods and that brilliant mind of his, stood right in the center. you saw the way he glanced at you when you walked up – quick and cautious – but he didn’t step away. he didn’t even speak, not until everyone had moved toward the hotel shuttles and you were left standing side by side by the glass doors.

even then, he only managed a soft, almost apologetic, “hey.”

you nodded. that was all. just a nod.

the train station was quiet when you arrived. too early for the weekend rush. the platform smelled faintly of coffee and rain, the sky still grey with the last dregs of morning. you boarded together, but said nothing. jake helped lift your bag into the overhead compartment, and you mumbled a thanks without meeting his eyes. then you sat – aisle seat, facing forward – and he slid in across from you, the little table between you both now feeling like a wall.

he looked like he wanted to say something. several times, in fact. you felt it in the way his leg bounced occasionally under the table, in the way he would glance at you and then away, like words hovered on his tongue but couldn’t find the air.

you turned to the window. let the trees and buildings blur past.

the train rumbled softly, a low, steady hum that filled the silence neither of you seemed ready to break. it wasn’t angry, not really. just… heavy. you were still replaying the night before – your own voice trembling when you asked what you were to him, the way he struggled to answer, the way your chest tightened when you realized he couldn’t. or wouldn’t. you hadn’t meant to put him on the spot. you hadn’t meant to make it sound like an ultimatum. but the truth was, somewhere along the way, you had started to hope for more. and that hope had begun to ache.

jake hasn’t spoken since the train pulled out of the station. 

he doesn’t remember sleeping. maybe he didn’t. maybe the entire night blurred into one long stretch of staring at the ceiling and silence, the words he didn’t say repeating in his head like an unfinished equation. the kind that just loops endlessly because it’s missing something. a constant. a variable. a courage he never had.

you hadn’t waited for him in the morning.

jake had hoped – naively, perhaps, that there’d be a moment. a breath. a second to pull you aside, to ask if you were okay, if you still meant what you said, if you hated him. but when you had made it to the lobby, your eyes were cast low.

and you didn’t say much. just nodded. gave the receptionist a clipped thank you. walked toward the taxi without looking back.

and he followed. what else could he do?

now, the train hums beneath him, a steady rhythm against his spine, and jake can’t stand how loud the silence between you two has become. it’s not the easy quiet he’s grown used to with you. not the kind where you both sink into your own thoughts, knowing you’re still tethered by something unspoken but understood.

this quiet feels like a door shutting. and he doesn’t know if he’ll get the chance to open it again.

he keeps glancing sideways. you’re across from him, curled slightly toward the window, arms crossed like a barrier. the light flickers over your profile as the train speeds past towns neither of you care to name. you haven’t spoken a single word since sitting down.

and he wants to talk to you. god, he wants to. but everything inside him is tangled.

jake thinks about last night. about the way your voice broke when you asked what you were to him. about how you said you didn’t expect him to meet you halfway anymore.

he doesn’t blame you. if he were in your place, he would’ve walked away too.

because the truth is, he’s spent so long keeping people at a distance that now, when someone stands close, he freezes. he panics. and with you, it’s worse. because you were never supposed to matter this much.

he rests his elbow against the window edge, forehead pressing lightly to the cool glass. his reflection stares back at him, tired and strained, like someone halfway through realizing they’ve ruined the one good thing in their life.

he thinks about his father.

he doesn’t talk about him. he never really has. not because it’s painful in the way people expect – there’s no single wound he can point to, no event with sharp edges. it’s more like a long absence. an empty chair at birthdays. a voicemail never returned. a room in his memory that’s always been locked.

and jake, just a boy who thought the stars could solve everything – waited. for days. for weeks. every car that passed, every shadow in the hallway, he hoped.

he waited until the waiting became a reflex. until he stopped believing people stayed.

so when you said last night, “would it even matter if i promised to stay?”—it had hit him in a place so buried he didn’t know how to respond. because he’d wanted to say yes.

yes, it would matter. yes, you already do. yes, he’s been terrified every day of how much he needs you, and how little he deserves to ask you to stay.

but instead, he just looked at you. and let the silence answer for him.

now you’re sitting there, further than the two feet between your seats should allow, and jake feels like he’s watching something precious slip through the cracks of his own fear.

he draws in a shaky breath and finally speaks, voice low. “i didn’t know how to say it.”

your head turns slightly, but your eyes stay trained out the window.

“i didn’t know how to say that i wanted you to stay. that i want you in… all of it. not just as my assistant. or someone who fixes the pieces when they fall apart. i just…” he trails off, hands curling into fists in his lap.

“i don’t expect you to believe me. after how i acted. after last night. but it’s not that you imagined things. you didn’t. i just… i’ve never been good at this.”

jake presses on, softer. “my dad left. when i was a kid. he didn’t say why. he didn’t even say goodbye. just… disappeared. and i think some part of me thought if i didn’t ask anyone to stay, i couldn’t be disappointed if they left.”

his throat tightens. he hasn’t said this out loud in years. maybe ever.

“but then you,” he whispers. “you stayed. you just stayed. without asking for anything. and it scared the hell out of me.”

you finally look at him. and jake swears that look could break him. because it isn’t angry. it isn’t even sad. it’s tired – like you already knew. like you were already letting him go.

because his words make your insides ache.

because you’ve waited and hoped even, for a moment like this. for the wall between you two to crack, just enough to let light through. for him to tell you why he always faltered right when you thought he’d reach for you. why he’d look at you like he wanted to say something, only to swallow it back every time.

but it’s not satisfying. it’s not cathartic. it just hurts. because now that you know… now that the curtain’s pulled back and you finally see the thing that’s been haunting him – it makes all of it make sense.

his hesitations. his silence. the way last night he had just stood there, frozen, caught between fear and want. and maybe if he had told you earlier – maybe if he had trusted you with this sooner – you would’ve held it differently.

but he hadn’t. and you’d spent months being the one who stayed. the one who filled in the silences. the one who waited and waited, until waiting began to feel like begging.

now you’re sitting across from him in a train full of strangers and endings, and you finally understand: he was never rejecting you, not entirely. he was protecting himself.

from history, from hope.from the fear that if he let someone close, they’d just leave, too.

it doesn’t make the pain vanish. but it does make it quieter.

you lean your head back against the window, your eyes fixed on the blur of trees racing past. you can’t look at him when you say it, when the words form softly in your chest and spill out like rain.

“i get it,” you say, your voice steady. “i do.”

you do. that’s the cruel part. you do.

you understand how loss can reshape a person. how abandonment lingers in the spaces people never talk about. you know how it claws at the way you let others in, how it makes you brace for every good thing to fall apart.

but even understanding has its limits. because knowing why jake can’t meet you halfway doesn’t erase the fact that you kept hoping he would.

and so, you say what you’ve already decided – what you’ve been deciding, little by little, since last night.

“i’m not asking for anything anymore, jake. not because i don’t care,” you add gently. “but because i realize now – you’re not ready. and maybe you won’t be for a long time. and maybe it’s not fair for me to wait around hoping you’ll wake up one day and decide i’m worth the risk.”

his lips part, but no sound comes out.

“i’m still here,” you continue, quieter now. “i’m not leaving. i meant that. i’ll still be there to remind you to take your meals, and hand you pens when you lose them. i’ll still print your reports and schedule your meetings.” a long exhale, like you were bracing yourself for what you were about to say, and when the words tumble out, they’re cracked in the middle, airy like a breath had clogged up your throat, “i’ll be there as a friend, if you want it. but i won’t expect anything more.”

jake feels like the world just tilted under his feet. not because you’re angry, but because you’re done asking. and that’s worse at this moment.

he nods, because it’s the only thing he can do without breaking completely.

the train rolls on, a blur of motion and endings and silence. and jake thinks, maybe for the first time, that regret is the sound of a heart closing gently, without slamming the door.

jake turns away again, eyes fixed on the window now. the scenery has changed – gray city edges replacing soft fields – but the heaviness in your chest hasn’t.

“i wish i was braver,” he murmurs. “i wish i could promise you something more.”

“i know,” you say. and you mean it. you really do. “but i need to stop wishing, jake. because it’s starting to hurt.”

he closes his eyes, and for the first time since the train left the station, neither of you says anything.

the city grows closer. you grip your bag tighter. you’ve made peace with your choice, even if it aches. you didn’t come into this expecting answers, but you leave knowing you can’t wait in the hallway of ‘maybe’ anymore.

when the train finally slows to a stop at the station, you rise before jake can. he’s still gathering his things, slow, hesitant.

“i’ll see you around,” you say softly, and he lifts his head. and you’re already walking down the aisle, your coat fluttering behind you, your shoulders squared.

you don’t look back. and for the first time in a long time, neither does he.

there is no dramatic farewell. no final confession. just two people watching something fragile fall apart in silence.

and maybe that’s all it ever was.

maybe that’s how some stories end – not with a bang, but with a train ride, a quiet ache, and the echo of things unsaid.

thirty-two.

the office feels too quiet now.

not the kind of quiet that means peace or progress, but the kind that fills the space after something’s ended. the kind that makes every keyboard clack sound too loud, every cough or printer beep feel like a disruption in a room that no longer knows what it’s waiting for.

jake sits at his desk with the blinds tilted halfway open, letting in slants of pale afternoon light that don’t quite reach him. the conference ended days ago, and technically, life has resumed. meetings scheduled, data reviewed, reports in draft. but nothing feels normal.

not when your desk is still across from his.

and not when he can’t look up without wondering what you’re thinking.

you’ve been…fine. not cold, not distant, but composed. efficient. maybe even softer than before, like you’ve laid something heavy down and are finally moving through air instead of water. but that’s what makes it worse – because jake knows exactly what you laid down.

he hasn’t stopped thinking about the train ride. about the way your voice cracked in the middle of your promise to stay as a friend, and how that – more than any anger or silence – gutted him. because you meant it. you meant everything you said, and jake had just sat there, paralyzed by a past he hadn’t even explained to you.

he catches glimpses of you throughout the day. sometimes you’re fixing the printer, tucking your hair behind your ear with the same tired grace that once made him forget what he was saying mid-sentence. sometimes you’re typing so fast he wants to ask what it is – what project, what plan, what version of the future you’re building that no longer includes him in a way that matters.

but most times, he doesn’t say anything at all.

jake’s fingers hover over his keyboard now, the same sentence blinking at him for the third time. he can’t focus. all he can think about is how he should’ve told you. about everything.

about how his dad left, just never came home from work one day. about the silence in their house after that – his mother sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea going cold in her hands, and jake pretending he didn’t notice the way she kept setting a second mug beside it for weeks.

about how no one ever explained why. just that he was gone.

that kind of abandonment carves into you. it teaches you not to believe in things that don’t come with guarantees. it makes you fear doors that open too easily, because you start to wonder how quickly they’ll close again.

jake had never told anyone that. not even you.

and maybe that’s why he’s here now, spiraling, stuck in this echo chamber of guilt and longing, because he knows now that you weren’t asking for forever. you were just asking for something. a word. a sign. a reason to keep hoping.

the air between you and jake is still thick with everything that’s unsaid.the awkward glances, the stiff nods, the polite exchanges – it’s all there. there’s no animosity. no anger. just a quiet, painful distance.

jake’s been trying to figure out what he can do. he knows he’s messed up. he knows he should’ve been braver, should’ve spoken up, but he was too scared to risk the one thing that truly mattered: you.

he hasn’t said much, but he doesn’t need to. jay sees it. jay always sees it. he’s not blind to the way jake spends every free moment staring at his screen like it’s the only thing keeping him from spiraling. he knows jake isn’t just working. he’s avoiding the guilt, the truth, the reality that he’s let something precious slip through his fingers.

and jay watches the way you move, the way you seem to have found a rhythm without jake, working, going through the motions. it’s like you’re there, but you’ve put up a wall. you’re not cold, but you’re not here anymore – not in the way jake wants. not in the way he needs.

it’s in the small moments that jay notices. like when jake brings up your name over coffee, his voice too quiet, like he’s trying to keep it casual, but the way his eyes flicker to jay for confirmation says everything. jay knows jake’s still asking the same question. how’s she doing?

and jay doesn’t lie. he doesn’t sugarcoat it, either.

“she’s fine,” jay says, like it’s an answer that should mean something more, but it doesn’t. “she’s doing alright. she’s... moving on.”

jake’s stomach twists, and for a second, he looks away, trying to hide the fact that it hits harder than he thought. but jay’s seen it before. he doesn’t say anything more, just lets the silence fill the space between them. jay’s the kind of guy who doesn't push, but you can tell by the way his gaze lingers on jake that he knows exactly what’s going on.

days blend into one another, a cycle of work and routine. you’re always in the background, in the periphery of jake’s life, moving with purpose, as if the world hasn’t changed. but it has. everything has shifted, and jake’s caught in the wreckage.

he watches you sometimes – when you’re walking to the printer, or when you’re talking to a colleague, your voice light, casual, a smile playing at the edges of your lips. he wonders if you’re really fine, like jay says. he wonders if you’ve really moved on.

he tells himself that he’ll be okay. he tells himself that this is what he deserves. but the truth is, he’s not okay. and he hasn’t been okay since that day.

but it's a feeling that persists the entire week, bleeding into the next one like a cold draught. it’s a random wednesday when things happen.

the rain outside had been relentless all day, casting a gray pall over the office. jake’s desk is cluttered with papers and half-finished calculations, the weight of them hanging in the air like the storm itself. his eyes flicker back and forth between the numbers, but they’re starting to blur. he’s been here longer than he should have, pushing through the fatigue, trying to make sense of the chaos in front of him. but no matter how hard he tries to focus, his mind keeps drifting.

it’s not even work anymore. it’s you. it’s the empty space between the two of you. the silence. the fact that nothing is really okay and no amount of math can make it right.

he rubs a hand over his face, the exhaustion creeping in, when he hears a faint knock on his office door. it’s soft, tentative, like a hesitation he can almost feel in his bones.

he doesn’t look up at first. “come in,” he calls, his voice sounding hollow, even to him.

the door creaks open, and there you are. you’re holding something in your hands – a small, unassuming box wrapped in paper, the kind of gesture that, to anyone else, might seem insignificant. but to jake, it’s like a quiet message. a lifeline thrown into the storm.

“i thought you could use something sweet,” you say, your voice light, almost apologetic. you step forward, placing the box gently on the edge of his desk.

jake doesn’t know what to say. the words feel lodged in his throat, and the weight of everything between you two presses in from all sides. he wants to thank you, but his words feel too small for the moment. instead, he just nods, eyes fixed on the box.

you step back, about to leave, and something inside jake snaps. it’s as if the quiet, unspoken weight of everything between you finally breaks through. he stands up, hurriedly this time, too quick, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he doesn’t act fast enough.

“wait,” he says, his voice catching.

you turn back, startled, and before you can react, jake is there. his hand comes out, just slightly, but it’s enough. he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but somehow, instinctively, he’s closing the distance between you. you don’t step back. you don’t flinch, but you hesitate, eyes searching his face for something. for what, exactly? he doesn’t know.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes. “i didn’t – i didn’t mean to make things harder.” his voice breaks slightly on the last part, the weight of everything he never said pressing into his chest. “i shouldn’t have shut you out. you didn’t deserve that.”

the sincerity in his voice hits you like a wave, knocking the air from your lungs. and before you even realize it, you find yourself taking a step closer to him. the air between you is charged with all the things that were left unsaid, and all the things that can’t be unsaid now.

for a moment, you both stand there, inches apart. his chest is rising and falling with every breath, his eyes glued to yours. it’s almost like he’s waiting for you to say something – anything. but it’s you who speaks first.

“you don’t have to apologize,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “i know you didn’t mean to hurt me. i just... i don’t know how to…fix this.”

jake shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “i don’t either. but i’m trying. i swear i am.”

and in that moment, the tension between you both is so thick that jake feels like he can’t breathe. his hand slowly moves toward you again, this time with more certainty. there’s something in the air now, a fragile, unspoken connection that he can’t ignore. he reaches up, his hand trembling slightly as he cups your cheek.

your skin is soft, warm and flushed under his fingers, eyes looking up at him almost in wonder and he swears he sees stars in them. he swears, even as a man of science, that he sees literal stars studded in your eyes.

you don’t pull away. you don’t say anything. you just lean into his touch as if it’s the only thing that’s real right now. and a part of you waits for what is about to come – if ot does. it hopes that it comes.

the sound of the rain outside is distant, like a fading echo. and then, without thinking, jake leans in. just a fraction, but enough for your breath to mingle, for the space between you to be filled with the pull that’s been building for weeks. his lips hover so close to yours, you can feel the heat of his skin, the tension building, but neither of you moves any closer.

but then you feel his hands shaking, the shuddered breath that leaves his lips, the way his fingers squeeze ever so gently around your cheeks. and you know he’s scared. he’s still unsure. so you pull away.

jake’s fingers twitch, confusion flooding his gaze. he wants to chase after you. he wants to close that distance and take the leap, but something in you stops him. something in you knows that, even though this feels so right, it’s not enough yet.

“i can’t, dr. sim,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “i can’t do this... not when you’re still—” you don’t finish the sentence. you don’t need to. he knows.

jake steps back, his hand falling to his side. the air feels cold now, despite the heat that lingers between you. neither of you moves for a moment. the silence is heavy, suffocating, but it’s also full of understanding.

“you’re right,” he says softly, regret lacing his words. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have—”

“no, don’t apologize,” you interrupt, shaking your head, trying to smile through the ache in your chest. “i’m just… i’m just not ready either.”

and it’s true. maybe you don’t know if you’ll ever be ready, but right now, you know that you can’t wait for him to be something he’s not yet. you’re not angry. you’re not frustrated. you’re just… exhausted. the weight of everything that’s been left unsaid, the lingering feelings you’ve both been tiptoeing around, it’s too much to carry on your own.

jake looks at you, eyes searching yours for any sign that maybe, just maybe, you still want what he’s offering. but all he sees is the quiet resolve in your gaze – the same one that told him, just a few days ago, that you’d be there as a friend.

he nods, slowly, his heart heavy with all the things he wishes he could change. “i understand,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

you force a smile, the ache in your chest making it feel like a weight. “i’ll see you around,” you say softly, turning to leave the office, your footsteps quieter now, slower. the door clicks shut behind you, and jake stands there, frozen, the sound echoing louder than it should. his hands drop to his sides like they’ve lost purpose, still tingling from the feel of your skin.

the silence that follows is deafening.

he stares at the empty spot where you were just moments ago, his breath still shallow, his heart thudding like it’s trying to climb out of his chest. the rain outside taps steadily against the window now, no longer romantic – just real.

he runs a hand through his hair, pacing once, then twice, before collapsing back into his chair. he leans forward, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands.

what the hell was that?

jake has kissed no one. he’s never even come close. but just now, with you – he would’ve. he wanted to. not out of guilt. not to erase mistakes. but because, in that quiet, fragile second, it felt like the most honest thing in the world.

and still, you were right. he wasn’t ready. not really. and the last thing he ever wanted to do was drag you into the storm that still lived under his skin.

so he lets you go – for now. not because he wants to, but because loving you half-formed would be worse than not at all. and as the door stays closed and your footsteps fade, jake finally understands: this isn't about earning forgiveness or chasing moments. it's about becoming someone who won’t flinch when love finally looks him in the eye. someone who, when the time comes, can meet you there – whole.

thirty-three.

you take a leave for the first time since you started working here. not just a day or two – a full week.

"sick leave," you tell the department head, voice clipped and even. there’s no visible fever, no cough, no limp in your walk, but you look… tired. something in your eyes is hollowed out, something that no amount of caffeine or concealer can fix. you pack your things on thursday morning, the office still groggy from the previous day’s rainstorm. jake isn’t there yet.

you’re not sure if you’re relieved or disappointed by that. it wasn’t the almost-kiss that scared you. not exactly.

it was the way you felt when you stepped back.

jake had looked at you like you’d just taken the sun out of the sky. and you had to look away, because for one terrifying moment, you’d wanted to kiss him back. not because it was time. not because you were ready. but because it would’ve been easy. because it would’ve made everything hurt less.

it’s not that you can’t face jake. you know that you can. it’s just that you can’t face the disappointment, the knowing look in his eyes every time he glances your way. the ache of wishing things could be different, while everything between you two is fractured and hanging by a thread.

you have thought about it a lot though. the way his lips were so close that for a fraction of a second, the entire world seemed to shrink down to that one breath between you.you have thought that, for how, just one moment, you could almost forget the reason you held back – the fear that he wasn’t ready, that he didn’t know what he was asking for. or maybe that he just wasn’t asking for anything at all, and the rest was just a byproduct of guilt.

on friday morning, your phone buzzes with a message. from him.

dr. sim (jake): hey. just checking in. i hope you’re okay.

you stare at the message for five full minutes before locking your phone again.

no follow-up comes. no calls. you don't blame him. maybe he thinks he already said too much. maybe he’s ashamed. or maybe he really did just want to kiss you to feel better about everything he broke.

the thought hurts more than it should.

there’s a message waiting for you on friday afternoon.

dr. sim (jake): i know you probably don’t want to talk right now. i get that. but if you ever need a coffee, or just want to vent, i'm here. i’m sorry for everything. i know i’ve messed up.

the words sting more than they should. because jake’s always been straightforward, but here, in his message, you feel a quiet vulnerability, the kind of rawness that you didn’t expect. you’d almost forgotten that he had a side to him that wasn’t wrapped up in intellectualism, in the cold logic of science. but now, in his message, you see it – his humanity.

and it brings everything back to the surface.

by sunday evening, you’re still not sleeping right. still not eating much. you’ve been pacing in your apartment, trying to talk yourself out of doing it, trying to hold onto your own resolve. but when you see his name on the screen again, you finally snap.

you’re angry. and not just at him. but at the situation, at yourself for hoping, at everything that feels like it's falling apart. so you pick up.

“hey,” he says. “i wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”

you almost laugh, but it comes out bitter. “i’m sure you weren’t.”

he doesn’t respond right away. there’s an awkward pause before he finally says, “how are you? really?”

“really?” you can’t help the edge that creeps into your voice. “i’m fine, dr. sim. just needed some space. that’s all.”

another pause. you can practically hear him struggling to find the words. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to pull away. it wasn’t supposed to be like that. i know i—” he cuts off, and you can hear the soft clink of a glass in the background. “look, i’m not drunk. not this time.”

you roll your eyes. “so, what? are you just calling to apologize again?”

“no,” jake replies quickly, his voice tight. “i’m calling because you’ve been distant, and i get it. but i need to know if you’re okay. really. and if i’ve messed things up too much for you to even want to try again.”

for a moment, you just stare at the floor, feeling the weight of it all. “you think that’s what this is about?” you sigh deeply, the words thick with emotion. “i don’t know, jake. i don’t know what you want. i don’t know if you want this. i don’t know if you’re just... stringing me along because you feel guilty.”

his response comes quick, but with a rasp. “i’m not stringing you along. you’ve got it all wrong. i never meant to hurt you. i just... i’m not sure if i can give you everything you deserve, not right now. i don’t know what i’m doing. i’ve never known.”

“jake,” you say, soft but firm, “i need you to stop calling me and telling me these things in pieces. i can’t keep hoping based on half-truths or almosts.”

“i’m not trying to confuse you—”

“then don’t,” you cut in. “if you want something, you need to say it to my face. not over a call. not like this.”

“you’re right,” he says. “you’re completely right. i’ll… can we meet? i know it’s late. i know it’s sudden. but please.”

you hesitate.

“i’m not asking for forever,” he adds. “just… tonight. one honest conversation. no running. no almosts.”

you exhale slowly. and then against your own better judgement, because this is what you asked for, to do things face to face, not over a call, you ask, “where?”

“the observatory,” he says. “it’s the only place i know that still makes sense.”

your chest aches.

“okay,” you whisper.

you hang up before either of you can say something that might shatter the fragile truce forming between your tired hearts.

and then you get up. you pull on a coat. and you walk out into the cool, quiet night, hoping that this time he means every word.

thirty-four.

jake waits patiently by the observatory doors.

there’s a nervous energy in the way he shifts from foot to foot, hands tucked into his coat pockets, shoulders hunched slightly against the cool air. he hasn’t been able to sit still since the call. the night is quiet, the campus mostly deserted, save for the occasional flicker of motion-sensor lights or the faint hum of traffic far off in the distance.

he checks his phone once. no messages. then he looks up at the sky.

cloudless. that’s a good sign.

jake’s always found comfort in the sky – so constant, even in its vastness. stars burn and die, sure, but their light travels so far, for so long, that we still see them even after they’re gone. there’s something deeply unfair but also quietly beautiful about that. the idea that something can leave you, and yet, linger.

when the crunch of footsteps finally cuts through the silence, he turns.

and there you are.

hair a little wind-tousled, coat wrapped tight, eyes trained on him in a way that’s unreadable, but real. you don’t say anything at first. neither does he. the moment stretches, awkward and fragile, until jake finally clears his throat and gestures toward the doors.

“i, uh… kept it unlocked. figured we could talk inside.”

you nod and follow him in.

the observatory is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the soft amber floor lights that run along the baseboards and the faint glow of the stars above through the open dome. the telescope sits idle in the center of the room, and everything feels suspended, like time’s holding its breath.

jake doesn’t sit right away. instead, he paces once, then turns to face you.

“i didn’t know if you’d come.”

you lift your chin, heart pounding. “i said i would.”

a beat of silence passes before he says something.

“i meant what i said. i didn’t want to confuse you. i just…” he exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “god, this is harder in person.”

you cross your arms, not cold, just needing somewhere to put your tension. “then tell me the truth. the whole thing. no science metaphors, no soft landings. just tell me what you want, jake.”

and god, this time when you say his name, it’s so careful. so wary, so full of an adoration you’re not sure you deserve to speak with.

his eyes meet yours, steady despite the storm behind them.

“i want you. not as an assistant. not as a friend i owe an apology to. i want you, knowing full well i’m complicated and messy and scared shitless most days.”

your lips part, the smallest of smiles flickering on them but you bite down and he keeps going. his voice doesn’t tremble, but you can hear the pressure behind it, like a dam straining under the weight.

“i wasn’t scared that night because i didn’t want to kiss you. i was scared because i did. because it was the first time something felt… real. and not like a distraction or something to get me through the stress or the guilt or the expectations. you’re not a coping mechanism. you’re—”

he stops himself, eyes darting upward to the stars. it calms him.

“there’s this concept,” he says softly, “called parallax error. it’s what happens when you measure the position of a star from two different points in earth’s orbit. six months apart, same star… but it looks like it shifts positions. it doesn’t actually move, though. the shift is just a trick of perspective.”

you blink at the sudden shift, but he’s not rambling – he’s guiding himself.

“sometimes i think that’s what i did with you. i kept looking at you from different angles; first as a colleague, then a friend, then someone i couldn’t stop thinking about – but i couldn’t get close enough to admit what you really were to me.”

you breathe in, slowly. “and what am i?”

jake steps closer. “someone who saw through me before i even knew i was hiding.”

you don’t know what to say to that.

because there’s something unraveling inside you, something warm and terrifying and beautiful all at once.

“i didn’t kiss you that night,” he adds, voice lower now, more fragile, “because i was scared it would feel like stealing something i hadn’t earned.”

you swallow hard. “and now?”

he holds your gaze. “now i’d ask.”

a long silence.

then you move.

it’s subtle at first – just one step forward. then another. jake doesn’t reach for you, doesn’t close the distance. he waits.

you stop in front of him, eyes flicking between his and his slightly parted lips. he smells like soap and notebook paper and his woody cologne.

“i was scared too,” you say, barely above a whisper. “not of you. just… of getting hurt. of wanting something i wasn’t sure you wanted back.”

“i wanted it,” he says immediately. “i want it now.”

your chest rises and falls. “jake, have you ever done this before?”

he blushes. actually blushes. “no.”

a beat. you tilt your head. “never?”

he shakes his head. “no. not because i didn’t want to. just… never found someone i trusted enough to want it to mean something. until you.”

your breath catches.

jake shakes his head, not ashamed, just honest. “i don’t think i ever wanted to. not like this. it was never… right. i never met someone who made me want to risk it. not until you.”

you freeze, something tender tightening in your chest. he goes on, more certain now, eyes steady on yours.

“it’s not that i was waiting for some perfect moment or whatever. i just… i think part of me didn’t believe it could be real. that i could want someone this much. and have it feel… like it matters.”

you don’t know what to say for a moment. because it does matter. god, it does.

you glance up. the stars are faint through the dome, soft and silent above you. distant, but still burning. and it feels right – that something this real, this quietly extraordinary, is happening here.

so you lean in, slowly. and jake meets you halfway this time

it’s careful, at first. tentative, like touching something sacred. his lips brush yours, feather-light, unsure but aching to stay. you pause – just a breath, just long enough to feel his heartbeat skip beneath your fingertips, where your hand has come to rest against his chest.

then he kisses you properly.

it’s not perfect. it’s a little awkward, a little hesitant, but it’s real. and god, it’s soft. his hands hover for a moment before one lands gently on your waist, the other staying at his side like he’s afraid to overstep. you press your palm against his chest and feel the rapid-fire beat of his heart under your fingers.

then, all at once, something in both of you gives.

the press of your lips is deeper. still gentle, but more certain. like he’s no longer afraid of wanting this. like he’s finally decided it’s okay to let himself want something this much. your hand slips up, fingers curving at the back of his neck, and jake exhales like he’s been holding it in for years.

when you pull back, barely an inch, he stays close. his forehead presses to yours, his breath warm between you. you can feel the tremble in him – not from fear, not anymore, but from the overwhelming quiet rush of feeling.

“i didn’t know it could feel like that,” he says, voice hoarse.

you smile, eyes still closed. “like what?”

jake pulls back just enough to look at you. there’s a softness in his eyes, like starlight diffused through mist.

he shakes his head slowly, as if searching for the right words. “like my brain completely shut down and forgot how to function.”

you let out a small laugh at that, the sound barely a breath. it’s not just the words, but the way jake’s still staring at you – wide-eyed, a little dazed, like he’s been hit with something too big to fully comprehend. his teeth are biting down on his bottom lip, and it’s in that moment that you can tell for sure; this was his first kiss.

you can’t help but smile. “that’s an interesting way to describe it.”

jake’s brow furrows slightly, a touch of concern flickering across his face. “wait, is that a bad thing? like, you didn’t – did i mess it up?”

“no, no,” you rush to reassure him, your hand gently resting on his chest. “i just didn’t know kissing was that much of a brain-melter.”

he blinks at you, clearly processing what you just said. then a small grin starts to tug at the corners of his lips. “so… you’re saying i wasn’t totally terrible?”

you can’t help but chuckle, the moment lightening just enough. “no, no. it was good.” you pause, tilting your head thoughtfully. “but maybe next time, you can, y’know, move a little more. like... try not to get stuck in your own head.”

jake groans and laughs, his face flushing bright red. “i didn’t think i’d have to practice kissing. is this what people do? do they... like, rehearse?”

you burst out laughing at that. "rehearse?!" you shake your head, still laughing. "jake, you are so ridiculous."

his face turns even redder, and he starts running a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed. "okay, maybe i don't know how this works," he mumbles, eyes darting around like he's trying to figure out how to recover from the situation.

"no, no, you're fine!" you say, still laughing a little at the sheer absurdity of it all. "i can't believe you just asked if people rehearse kissing like it's a... a dance move."

he fidgets, clearly not sure if he should be mortified or just roll with it. "well, i mean, i didn't want to mess it up! i thought there might be some kind of... manual. like, step one, lean in. step two, lips meet. step three, don't panic."

you chuckle again, giving his arm a playful shove. "jake, this isn’t instructional. it’s... it’s just—" you pause, realizing how much you mean what you’re about to say. "it’s about being with someone you want to be with. you’re not supposed to overthink it. it’s supposed to feel natural."

jake looks at you, that unsure yet utterly endearing look in his eyes. "natural, huh? so no manual needed?"

"nope. no manual. but i can’t promise i won’t laugh at your rehearsal idea next time," you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

jake laughs too, the sound warm and easy now. "alright, well, next time, i won’t ask if i can practice in the mirror first." his grin is almost too cute for words.

you roll your eyes playfully. “don’t even joke about that. please.”

“i’m just saying,” he replies, feigning seriousness, “if this is a regular thing for us, i might need to... you know... train a little bit.” his teasing tone and that shy but sweet smile on his face make it impossible for you to take him seriously, and you can’t help but laugh again.

“you’re unbelievable,” you mutter, shaking your head at him with an exaggerated eye roll.

jake shrugs with a grin. “well, i’m learning. and, uh, can’t promise i won’t mess up next time either.”

“i’ll take my chances,” you say, fighting to hide your smile.

you both fall into a comfortable silence for a beat, the air still crackling with something sweet, but light. it's not perfect, but it feels good. too good to overthink.

“just for the record,” jake says, his voice softer now, “i wouldn’t mind kissing you again. manual or no manual.”

you smile, your heart warming at the honesty in his words. “good to know, because i don’t mind kissing you either.”

so he takes his chances and leans in, and this time there's no hesitation. he kisses you again, but it's different – deeper, a little more sure, as if he's not afraid of what it means anymore. 

when you pull back, the air between you feels heavy, but not uncomfortable. there's something sweet about the quiet, the way his forehead rests gently against yours, like he's taking a moment to savor the feeling before he says anything else.

you stay there, suspended in the quiet, just feeling the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. the moment stretches, both of you caught in the softness of it, not quite ready to pull away. his hands have shifted, one resting lightly on your waist, the other drifting up to cup the back of your neck, thumb grazing gently over your skin. the way he's holding you now feels like an unspoken promise, like he doesn't want to let go, and you don't want to either.

for a moment, neither of you speak, just breathing in sync, taking it all in. you let your arms slip around his neck, pulling him just a little closer, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt. it’s not desperate, just... right. like you’re both settling into something that feels almost too good to be real.

“you’re really not that bad at this, you know?” you tease, your voice low, still caught in the softness of the moment.

jake chuckles, his hands tightening slightly around you, pulling you just a little closer. “i’m glad to hear that. i think i could get better with a little more practice.”

you lean in again, this time your forehead resting against his, arms still wrapped around each other. the warmth between you feels safe, comfortable. in this moment, it’s as though nothing else matters. no questions, no hesitations – just the quiet understanding that you're here, together.

jake’s hands slide from your waist up to your back, holding you tighter, like he’s afraid if he lets go, you’ll slip away. you let him, pressing your cheek against his shoulder and letting the feeling of his arms around you settle into something even more real. the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest is like a grounding rhythm, something that’s telling you, in the gentlest way, that this is just the beginning.

you pull back just enough to meet jake’s gaze again. there’s a weight to the silence, a quiet realization settling between you that this – this moment, this connection – wasn’t really something you’d planned for. you’d both danced around it for so long, unsure and careful, but here you are, tangled up in something that didn’t come with a map.

jake's eyes linger on you, watching the way your expression shifts from playful to something more soft, something more real. he can still feel the heat of your touch, your hands around his neck, the rhythm of your breath syncing with his. it’s all still sinking in. still feeling like something he should probably be questioning, but he’s not. for once, he’s not overthinking. and that’s… new.

he watches you breathe, and the quiet of the room seems to wrap around the two of you, like it’s cocooning this moment in a way that makes everything else feel so far away. this was never part of his plan.

nothing about tonight, nothing about the way you’ve gotten under his skin without him even realizing it, was something he could’ve mapped out. he was so sure before – so certain that if he just kept everything in neat little boxes, kept his distance, it would be easier. safer.

and now here he is, holding you, unsure if he even knows what the hell he’s doing, but too lost in it to care.

you’re here, in his arms. the thing he wanted, the thing he never thought he could have. the kind of closeness that makes his chest feel a little too full, a little too overwhelmed with this thing that’s more than just chemistry. it’s more than just a kiss, more than just the surface-level stuff he used to think was enough. this is different. this is something deeper. something that matters in ways he’s still trying to wrap his head around.

he’s never been good at this. he’s always been the guy who keeps people at arm’s length, never letting anyone in too far. he’s the one who can talk about his work all day long, but when it comes to this? to the messy, emotional, uncharted territory of actually letting someone in? he’s been too scared to even try. but with you… with you, it doesn’t feel like something he needs to guard against anymore. you make it feel like he can just… be. be himself. be vulnerable.

and maybe that’s what’s funny about it. how life, or maybe just people, work that way. how you can do everything right, follow the rules, and yet still end up somewhere you didn’t expect. but it doesn’t feel wrong.

in fact, it feels like maybe the best thing that’s ever happened, even if it wasn’t part of some grand plan.

— outtake.

jake’s sitting on the floor, his back against his couch, nose buried deep in one of his theoretical analytics book in front of him, eyes scanning the page but not really absorbing the words. his mind keeps wandering – mostly to you, of course. he’s been trying to focus, to get through the research he’s been putting off, but it’s hard when you’re here. in his space. wearing one of his hoodies that’s far too big for you, hair tousled in the way he secretly loves.

you’re sitting next to him on the couch, feet tucked underneath you, fiddling with your phone. but your attention keeps drifting to him, to the way he scrunches his brow in concentration, pushing his glasses up every few minutes. you can’t help but smile. it’s a little endearing, how lost he gets in his work.

your fingers itch for something to do, so you casually reach over, your hand sliding into his hair. he barely reacts at first, his attention still on the book in front of him, but as your fingers thread through his hair, he lets out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it in without realizing.

he shifts a little, trying to focus again, but it’s hard to ignore the soothing way you’re playing with his hair. your touch is gentle, but there’s a playfulness in it, too. you keep running your fingers through his soft locks, your movements becoming slower, almost rhythmic, as if you're testing how far you can get him to relax.

it only lasts so long before your attention drifts to a piece of paper sticking out from under the pile of books on the table, tucked safely within his wallet, but just the corner peeking out. without even thinking, you pull it out from under the pile of papers and there it is. the note.

the same one you’d left for him that night, tucked carefully into his hand. the one with those words you’d never thought would mean so much: “betelgeuse is still shining. you’ll get through it too!.”

you freeze for a second, feeling your heart skip a beat as the memory of that night floods back. the quiet moments, the way he’d looked at you with something raw in his eyes. the way he hadn’t let go of that note, of your words, keeping them close.

jake’s hand, still resting on the edge of the couch, twitches slightly as he notices you holding the paper. his eyes flick up from his book, and he suddenly goes still, a hint of panic crossing his face.

“no—” his voice is almost a whisper, but his gaze is locked on the note in your hand, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you look at it, a warmth flooding your chest. but when you glance up, you see jake’s face has gone pale. he’s trying to hide the sudden tension in his shoulders, but it’s obvious.

"jake," you tease, holding the note up between your fingers. "what’s this doing here, huh?"

he glances at you quickly, trying to cover up the fact that he’s been caught off guard. “i—i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, but there’s a flush creeping up his neck.

“really?” you raise an eyebrow, the playful glint in your eye growing. “this is still in your wallet, isn’t it?”

before he can respond, you lean forward, holding the note just out of his reach. “you’ve been carrying this around, huh?” you tease, voice low and soft, yet filled with playful mischief.

jake narrows his eyes, trying to keep a straight face, but you can see the tug of amusement around the corners of his mouth. “give it back,” he says, his voice holding an edge of feigned seriousness.

but you’re not backing down. instead, you shift just slightly, pushing him back a little, nudging him gently with your body. jake responds with a low chuckle, his hands coming up to tug at the paper, but you pull it away, your fingers a little quicker than his.

“you’re not getting this back that easily,” you laugh, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

jake’s face flushes more, but he leans forward, suddenly grabbing at your wrist with a playful strength, pulling you closer. “okay, okay,” he says, but his eyes are dancing, that mix of exasperation and affection that always gets to you.

and just like that, you’re laughing, tumbling in a gentle, playful wrestle, the two of you grappling for the note, your movements tumbling together on the couch. it’s a tangle of limbs, both of you laughing and trying to outmaneuver the other, jake’s glasses slipping down his nose as he leans over you.

you feel the warmth of his breath on your neck, his chest against yours, and in a sudden, quiet moment, you freeze. your eyes meet, the note still clutched between your fingers, but now all you can think about is the space between you two. you’re both so close, and in that instant, everything slows.

jake’s hand moves to adjust his glasses, but you reach up and gently push them up his nose, your fingers grazing his skin. it’s the slightest touch, but it makes the room feel even smaller, more intimate, the air thick with something unspoken.

he looks at you, just inches away, his eyes soft and almost... vulnerable. and then, before you can second-guess it, you pull him closer. you kiss him, gently at first, just feeling the press of his lips against yours.

but then he deepens it, and everything else fades. the note, the teasing, the wrestle – it all vanishes. all that matters is him, the way his hands are tender but urgent, the way his lips move against yours with a newfound, quiet intensity.

when you pull away, breathless, your foreheads rest together for just a moment, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

you stay like that for a beat longer, the quiet settling in, the world outside feeling distant.

jake’s thumb traces the back of your hand, and you glance down at the note still clutched between your fingers. the words come back to you like a quiet hum in the background. it’s a simple thing, but it feels like everything in that moment – like a quiet reminder that, even when things seem uncertain, there’s still something constant, something that endures.

you meet jake’s gaze again, and without saying a word, you both know: yeah, we’ll be okay.

[sparklingchan]

Serendipity || Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: Suggestive, mentions of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant) , mentions of poison, Changbin is sweeter than sugar. Set in the Joseon Era.

Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, fluff with very slight angst.

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

A/N: Hello everyone! Back with another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. I am genuinely in love with this one ngl. King Changbin is a rizzler y'all. Hope you guys have fun reading this <3

Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated)

Here's the link to the masterlist.

Being a woman in this country is not an easy task. Especially when one is a candidate for the position of the country's Queen.

You'd dreamt of this for years, the idea sewn into every thought by your father even since you were child. With time, you'd welcomed the thought without a complaint.

"My lady, the Royal messenger is here." Somi informs you, and your nervousness just goes up by a thousand.

Did you manage to become the Queen and make your father proud? Or did you get disqualified and were now just a daughter of some minister and free to marry any other commoner like yourself?

You run down the hallway and enter the pavillion in front of your house, the colorful banners of the Royal entourage shine under the bright sun.

You straighten your robes and kneel down, head almost touching the ground, as a mark of respect for the King's verdict.

The chief Eunuch opens up the scroll in his hands.

"Please find enclosed the Royal Edict from the King's Court:

I, Seo Changbin, the King of Joseon, have chosen Miss y/n of House Kim as my wife and, by extension, the Queen of our beloved country. I have consulted the three High State Councilors and my mother- the Queen Dowager about the same and we have all unanimously agreed that she would be the best choice for the country as well as the Royal family, owing it all to her wits, beauty and manners.

Congratulations to Miss y/n and her family.

The Royal family would also like to extend an invitation to the bride-to-be to shift into the Detached Palace at the earliest as part of the customary pre wedding ritual. "

It feels as if someone had punched out the air from your lungs, you couldn't speak nor stand, while your parents and brother continuously thanked the Royal Eunuch, accepting all the gifts sent by the Palace for you.

But you couldn't move. You just stayed there, frozen. For life as you had known it has come to an end.

And thereafter begins a new, Royal chapter of your life.

*

"I'm going to miss you, my child."

The days since the Edict pass by in a heartbeat. All the members of your family were busy with packing your belongings while you were busy with mentally preparing yourself to leave your family and house behind forever.

Yes, you'd always wanted to be a Queen. Yes, you'd spent years getting ready for this role. Yet when the time finally comes, it hurts you to think about leaving behind twenty three years of your life.

"I'm going to miss you too, mother." On hearing your words, your mother cries harder.

But as usual, your father shows no emotion. His face is calm.

"Remember, y/n, there are no friends in the Palace other than your husband. You cannot confide in anyone but him. The other concubines will do anything to gain his favor, but you shall always be a step ahead. Be vigilant and loyal. You will make a great Queen." He says. Like the strategist he'd always been.

"Yes, father." You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your mother clinges to your arm.

"We will try and visit you whenever we can. I'm sure his Majesty will allow."

"Yes, of course. You can visit me anytime. The Palace is only a few hours from here."

"Oh, my child! How will I ever live without you!" Another sob tears out from your mother's throat. You hug her with all the love and care you could muster up in that moment.

Your father walks out of the room, hands behind his back and face twisted into a frown.

*

The Detached Palace is to be a temporary residence for the bride-to-be. For over the next thirty days, you would be receiving lessons on various subjects like history, Royal Etiquette, sewing, cooking and most importantly- lessons on intimacy. The last lesson is considered most important, according to Somi, since it allows you to birth as many healthy heirs as possible.

After helping you dress up for the night and setting up your bed, your maids take your leave for the night, only Somi remaining by your side.

"Do you think I'll see the King tomorrow? It's queer but I'd like to know what my future husband looks like, at least."

Somi sighs, "I don't think it's allowed, my lady. I believe you can only see his Majesty on your wedding day. A month from now."

You're oddly disappointed. You had dreamt so many nights of seeing the King, holding his hand, being by his side, yet the King in those dreams often never had a face.

Was it wrong to yearn to look at your future husband's face? Just once?

A subtle knock on your door startles the both of you.

"Yes?"

"My lady, the King is here to see you." Your handmaid almost whispers the words through the door.

With unparalleled urgency, Somi helps you straighten your clothes and rushes off towards the door.

"Your majesty." The maids and Somi greet him with the customary bow, while you purse your lips in a line, head hanging in a subtle bow.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It's so loud, you're sure even the King could hear it.

"Please give us some privacy." The King commands.

And you heart beats faster on hearing his voice for the first time. Gentle, yet authoritative, just like you'd dreamt.

When Somi closes the door behind her, you almost regret wishing to see your future husband. The proximity makes you nervous and you could only hope you'd not faint in front of him.

"My lady, you may rise."

You'd almost forgotten you were still bowing to him. You mentally slap yourself.

"Y-yes, your majesty. " your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak, your eyes still on the ground.

You'd prayed for this moment for years, y/n. Why couldn't you just meet his eyes?

As if sensing your inner conflict, the King takes two long strides towards you and hooks his index finger under your chin, sending a chill down your body.

"My lady, please look at me."

And you do.

And he's like everything you'd ever wished for.

Perfect, like a beautifully crafted sculpture.

His soft brown locks, his rosy lips, the subtle mischief in his eyes. Everything is perfect.

"Y-yes, your majesty. Sorry." You mumble.

The king smiles, rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"You may call me Changbin when we're alone."

You nod.

"I just came to ask if you're finding your new residence comfortable. We both shall be busy with lessons tomorrow onwards so I figured tonight would be a good time to visit my bride."

His bride? His bride?

Your legs feel weak.

"I'm finding it extremely comfortable, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality. "

Changbin let's out a low chuckle, leaning towards you. His lips hover inches above yours. And when he speaks, you feel hot air on your lips, "I told you, y/n. Call me Changbin."

You frantically nod.

"Good. Better be careful next time, my bride."

*

When you wake up the next morning, you're sure you'd dreamt everything that happened last night.

But apparently not.

"The King is a dashing young man." Somi teases as she lathers a concoction of herbs into your hair. "You're lucky, my lady. He seems to be a gentleman."

But you are too caught up in your thoughts to reply to her.

Did the king of Joseon really come all the way to the Detached Palace to see you? What if he's disappointed with how you had reacted? But he shouldn't blame you at all.

You had not been expecting anyone yesterday night, especially not him. But he did come to you. And he touched your chin. If you focus hard enough, you could feel his touch lingering in the area.

"My lady?" Somi clicks her fingers in front of your eyes, "Come back to earth. We have to get you ready for the classes today."

Blushing, you reply, "What classes do I have today?"

You had three classes today: Palace etiquette, literature and what Somi insists most important: lessons on reproduction.

While Palace etiquette mostly includes lesson on how to behave with Royal elders, ministers, maids, the King, literature includes important pieces of literature that are important for a woman.

And lastly, the most dreaded time arrived.

The reproduction lessons.

The tutor shows you all sorts of obnoxious hand movements and some drawings of couples in intimate positions. You feel uncomfortable from the beginning till the end.

A woman at least five decades older than you is teaching you about intimacy? Very awkward, to say the least.

But you heave a sigh of relief when the classes end for the day and you make your way to your room in the Detached palace.

"It's just the first day, Somi and I'm already tired to the bone." You say, kicking your shoes off.

"Well, it's going to be a lifetime of time this now, my lady. And you best be prepared for it."

You reply Somi with silence. But her words make you wonder. If this palace life would ever be less tiring someday? Would it even be worth it?

Perhaps not.

But King Changbin 's face flashes in front of your eyes; his sparkling eyes, mischievous grin, his feather like touch- maybe he is what will make everything worth it.

That night, after your maids get your bed ready while Somi is combing your hair, a familiar announcement echoes through the corridors of the Detached Palace.

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

His smiling face peeps through the doors as your maids hurry out of the room. He wears blue silk robes, and you feel weaker in his presence than you did yesterday.

"Did you miss me, y/n?"

And thus begins a month of secret nightly visits by the King of Joseon to the Detached Palace.

Everyday, you wake up looking forward to the time when King Changbin would come knocking at your doors, always up to some jesting.

Sometimes, he brings you fruits you'd mentioned you liked or he tells you stories from his childhood. At other times, he tells you about that one teacher he will hate till the end of time.

But most times, he spends his time listening to you talk- about everything and everyone, about the skies and gods, about ghosts and afterlife, about favourite foods and literature. After you'd overcome the initial shyness, opening upto Changbin was as easy as breathing, almost natural. Of course, you were still nervous around him, but it's a feeling you'd come to like.

Is this what the writers and poets describe as 'butterflies'?

"Do you think I'll make a good Queen?" You ask him one night. He sits in front you on a cushion, across the room, a position you told him is appropriate for two unwed people (although he did not agree to it initially).

If your nightly shenanigans were to be ever discovered by anyone, you would not want to be found in close proximity to each other even though you were betrothed to each other. He's breaking Palace rules everyday as it is.

He hums, "Of course! I think you'll make a great Queen. You're so good at your lessons already."

"That does not guarantee anything. I might not be good at taking the responsibilities."

"Do you trust my judgment, y/n? I think you'll make a great Queen. And even if you are overwhelmed, I shall always be here."

That night he leaves earlier than he usually does, owing to the fact that tomorrow is the day where his concubines are to be welcomed into the palace. Five of them.

The thought leaves you feeling bitter and dejected, but you make sure to not make those feelings obvious. This is a rule for Kings, to take as many concubines as possible to ensure the continuation of the blood line.

"Don't worry, my lady. Your rank in the palace is above these petty concubines. They will not mess with you." Somi comforts your thoughts the next day.

"But what if Changbin favors them more?"

Somi does not reply to that question.

*

On your 18th birthday, your father had promised to you that he would make you the Queen of this country. He kept his promise because here you are, after five years, getting dressed to be married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your father always insisted that powerful men do not love but Changbin's sparkling eyes always contradicted everything your father had taught. Nevertheless, you know the competitiveness among the concubines for the King's affection is mad. More often than not, even the Queen gets involved in petty fights.

But you try to remove all thoughts of your father and the concubines today. Because today, you are to be married to King Changbin. From today, your name will be written in the historical logs of the Royal family. From today, a new life begins.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Somi asks, "You look worried."

"I'm fine. Just hope the ceremony goes well."

The ceremony does go well and in all honesty, you were not worried about the ceremony itself. You were worried about the aftermath.

The maids guide you to your new palace, and get you dressed in white robes for the wedding night. The night when you will finally meet Changbin as his wife. The butterflies swim around in your belly.

The bed is decorated with flower petals and a few candles are lit. Everything is perfect.

"The King is here." One of your ladies in waiting announce and you get up to greet your husband.

The maids leave the room as the doors slide open and Changbin steps in, also dressed in white robes. He looks dashing, but his signature grin is nowhere to be found.

When the doors close behind him, he walks past you to the bed, the scent of liquor evident in his breath.

"Have you been drinking, your majesty?" You ask him, worried by his odd behavior.

What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he even bother to meet your eyes?

"Changbin." He slurs, wrapping the blankets around him, "Call me Changbin."

He turns away from you and is snoring away in no time.

The butterflies in your stomach flutter around before dropping dead.

*

You did not sleep that night. Even though you were sleeping next to the man you love, you felt lonelier than ever.

Many times during the night, you consider walking out of the bed chamber to the servants quarter so you could talk to Somi. But you couldn't do that. Because you were now the Queen of this country and every single step you take will have its repercussions.

When morning comes, Changbin wakes up in a haste and greets you with a subtle nod and walks out of the chamber in long strides.

You well the tears back. It's your first day as Queen and hadn't he always promised to be there when you were overwhelmed? Had he lied? Or was it Changbin's doppelganger who visited you every night in the Detached palace?

Somi comes in a few minutes later with an excited smile on her face.

When she does your hair for the day, she asks, "So, how was the wedding night?"

You want to answer her truthfully - how cold Changbin had been, how he had not even looked at you let alone touch you, how you think he had changed almost overnight. But you see the prying eyes of the other palace maids and swallow your sadness.

"It was perfect. Like everything I'd ever hoped for."

"He was gentle, I hope." She says through a grin, but it feels like someone pouring alcohol on an open wound.

"Yes. He was."

As part of royal customs, the new bride is supposed to visit the senior most female member of the family and greet her. In your case, the member happens to King Changbin's mother.

Somi dresses you in the most exquisite silks and adorns your hair with the most precious flower but you feel nothing at all when everyone compliments you on the way out of your new Queen's palace.

Your mother in law's palace is a little far from the Queen's palace yet it is as beautiful as any other palace. From inside as well as outside.

"Greetings, your majesty. It is nice to meet you." You bow in front of the Queen Dowager.

The woman-not more than sixty years of age- looks at you with a gentle smile.

"Come in, y/n. Please be at ease."

You're seated in front of her on a cushion while the Queen Dowager's maids serve you breakfast.

"I hope your first day here goes well, my child. Our family is thrilled to have you." She says.

"The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. I am honored to be a part of this family." You say.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Changbin is thrilled to have you or not. Probably not.

The mere thought of yesterday's rejection stings.

"Y/n, truth be told, my son is a quite a troubled man. His father was murdered in front of his eyes. He was made the king when he was only 16 years old. It's been 7 years since then, but the burden only gets worse. I hope you, as a Queen and as his wife, can help him lessen these burdens. Can you do that?" The Queen Dowager asks again, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I will do everything I can to help him." If only he'd let you.

"Good, good. I'm glad. And one more thing, y/n, you know as Queen one of your primary duties is to produce an heir for Changbin's throne. I hope you're working on that, yes?"

Heat reaches your cheeks. If only the poor woman knew what her dear son had done last night. If his behavior continues, perhaps it will be long before the Queen Dowager sees the face of a royal grandchild.

"We are trying, your majesty. We will not disappoint you." You reply, sipping tea from your own cup.

"Great! I shall send all types of herbs and tonics to help you conceive as fast as possible. I shall also draw up a chart after consulting the astrologer..." the Queen Dowager's voice fades into the background as your mind drifts off to the nights in the Detached palace, when Changbin would come and spend all his free time with you, against the rules of the palace. At that time, you had been sure that producing an heir would be a beautiful process, not a chore.

But Changbin does not even treat the thought like a chore.

Did he not love you? Did his Royal duties burden him too much?

When you leave the Queen Dowager's palace, you walk past The King's palace. It is as beautiful and majestic as they say. But you wonder if you'll ever be able to set foot in the same.

As if on cue, you see Concubine Jung walking out of the King's palace, her maids behind her. The butterflies in your stomach burn with jealousy.

She has a smirk on her face when she sees you.

"Eun, did you know there's a rumor around the palace that the King refused to sleep with the Queen last night? Sad, isn't it?" Concubine Jung says.

One of her maids giggle and nod, "Of course! How could the Queen even live with this shame?"

You cry yourself to sleep that night, while Somi does everything in her abilities to soothe you.

Needless to say, nothing worked.

*

"My lady, wake up. The King has invited you to breakfast with him." Somi informs one morning, six months after your wedding.

"Tell him I have a bad stomach bug. I cannot go."

You'd be found dead before sharing a meal with him and that obnoxious Concubine Jung. You'd shared enough meals with them already.

The past months, the King had not visited you even once but often you'd see him walking the gardens with Concubine Jung at his side.

After the first few weeks, you had no tears left to shed anymore so when the rumor came in last month that Concubine Jung might be pregnant, your eyes do not water no matter how much you force yourself to cry.

"I do not wish to congratulate them." You say, true and plain.

"My lady, he's invited only you. Not anyone else."

So you agree. As a last attempt to make your marriage work, even if it's just for your own sake.

Somi dresses you in green robes- The King's favorite. You quickly make your way to his palace, as if someone else would take your place if you didn't hurry. It's sad your thoughts had turned so negative in just half a year in the palace.

Your father had told you the King would take in many lovers during his lifetime, and that being Queen is about having power, not being loved.

But you think he didn't warn you enough. He didn't warn you how lonely it would be to sleep on the cold bed every night, how painful it would be to see the King smile at someone else.

Even if you did wish for a child, how could you produce you a child without Changbin?

"Good morning, your majesty." You say to him when you enter his bed chamber. It smells like cinnamon, a smell he'd often carry with himself back when he used to visit you at the Detached palace. Back when you were sure the king had been in love with you.

"Hello, my Queen. Please have a seat."

The butterflies dance around for a split second.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asks, taking a seat in front of you.

"Yes." Lies. "Thank you for inviting me over."

When the maids leave the both of you alone, his demeanor changes.

"Actually, y/n, I had something to talk to you about." He says, casually, as if he hadn't been hurting you everyday for the past few months.

"What is it?" You ask.

He sighs, "It's mother. Ever since that rumor of Concubine Jung being pregnant spread. She wants the first grandchild to be of the Queen."

His words do not faze you, "How can I help you, Changbin?"

He frowns. Since when had your tone become this melancholic?

"Um, so if I have your consent, I'd like to try for a child tomorrow night. We'll see how that goes, yeah?"

"Okay. I will be honored." You say.

You finish up the food quickly and almost slide the doors open when he grabs your arm from behind.

"Y/n, what is it? Did something happen? Are your parents well?"

"My parents are well enough, thank you for asking." You say, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"Then? What happened? Is it Concubine Jung? Really, you did not have to be jealous of her. She's not pregnant. I can assure you of that. I have not consummated my marriage with any one of the concubines."

His words seem to have an effect on you. Your heart blossoms with hope but you keep your face and voice neutral.

"I am not jealous, Changbin. If one of the concubines get pregnant, I shall wish you both well."

You force your arm out of his grip and walk out the palace, not looking back once.

Changbin's stares at your leaving figure, now worried beyond relief that he might have broken the one person he cared for the most by his pursuits of a greater good.

*

While the past few months for you had been filled with loneliness, for Changbin it was almost the same-if not worse.

The first night of your marriage was filled with as many butterflies for him, as it was for you.

He had fallen in love with you and he wasn't afraid to show the world how much you meant to him. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. And he had all plans to do that on the first night.

But that was until he had overheard a secret conversation between Concubine Jung and her father- Minister Jung.

For all he knew, Minister Jung had always wanted his daughter to be the Queen but being the dim-wit that she was, Concubine Jung could not even get through the first stage.

"Father, it's been two days since I'd been in the palace and that man has not visited me once. He had not even asked for my name the day of the welcoming. What kind of man is he? And you say I am to be Queen!"

"Hush, child. In this palace, even the walls are listening. Be careful. And as far as the position of Queen is concerned, you need not worry. If the King does bed the Queen tonight and she get pregnant, we shall make sure her pregnancy terminates before maturity. I have connections with all sorts of medicine vendors in the country, be assured, she shall never see the face of a child. After we weaken the Queen, we can take her throne as easily!"

Changbin had wanted to laugh at the man's foolish plans but deep down, he was worried as well. For you.

Which is why he pushed you away for so long and kept Concubine Jung close. While she tried everything in her power to seduce him, he refused her under the pretense of keeping an oath of abstinence for a year.

Every time she tried to even hold his hand, Changbin thought of you; your innocent eyes, your talks, your wit, your hands, your beautiful hair. No woman could make him feel like you do.

Changbin's secret informants had confirmed that Minister Jung had not one but two houses full of gold and cash he'd collected as illegal taxes from the local people. He'd also sometimes force husbands to send their wives to him in exchange for money. Even the thought nauseated Changbin.

Every time Concubine Jung visited, he made sure to collect some sort of evidence through her. He even visited her every night and while she snored away, he stole some of her gold jewlery and clothes to get them checked as evidence of the illegal taxes her father had been collecting.

And sure enough, after a few months of spying on her and her father, Changbin had gathered enough evidence by now to expose both of them at the court.

But he realised quickly that Minister Jung had a few tricks up his sleeves as well. The rumor of his daughter's pregnancy would make it difficult for Changbin to expose him easily, and so Changbin waited every night that the rumors would die down so he could run to the Queen's Palace and hug you with all his might. You were not safe unless the father and daughter were deposed.

And for some selfish reasons, Changbin had hoped you'd understand the reason behind his distance. But no woman could find a logical reason behind her lover being absent and it was horribly wrong for him to expect you to do the same.

"Are you stupid?" His friend, the eccentric dancer Minho had asked him.

Changbin had told him how coldly you'd behaved this afternoon when he'd asked you if you wished to try for a child. Most women would giggle and blush. But you were like a statue.

"You push her away for months and make her feel lonely and not loved and what not and you have the audacity to ask her that?"

"Well, yes. Mother had been pressuring me for a child and obviously, even with the pressure, I would never do anything that y/n would not have wanted but I thought it would be a great way to reconnect with her. Even if it didn't end in child making or whatever."

Minho let's out a frustrated groan, "You have to learn so much, Bin. But let's start with this- be honest with her. She's your wife and you ought to tell her everything. Give answers to all her questions and hold her hand if she let's you. Small steps first, a child can wait."

Changbin nods, " Okay, should I go to her right now?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Minho says, earning a slap on the arm from The King of Joseon.

He should be glad he's not being beheaded for calling the King an idiot.

*

You're almost done getting ready for bed when the lady in waiting makes an unexpected announcement .

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

Your heart leaps and the butterflies come alive again only to die down once you realise why he might be there. For a child. Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that why people get married in the first place?

"Y/n." He sighs when he enters the room, almost out of relief. He purses his lips.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" You ask.

Oh, how badly he'd hurt you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, in your voice, in your mannerisms.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I have caused you pain and I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. But I hope you know that I really do love you and only you."

"Then why the distance? Why visit Concubine Jung every night?" You ask, hands on your hips.

The tears that had left you threatened to return again.

And he tells you everything. From the conversation he overheard to how insistently Concubine Jung asked him for a child to how much solid proof he'd collected over the months and how he'd sent those evidences to the Minister of Security, who in turn ensured that by tomorrow the Jungs will out of the palace and be imprisoned for life.

It all makes sense to you now, of course it does. Yet you feel guilty. He'd been trying to protect you, all this while.

"I'm sorry, Changbin. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I only-"

"Don't apologize, y/n. It's me that should apologize. I should have somehow tried to contact you and tell you about everything. I'm-"

"No, no, Please. Don't. You only tried to protect me and-"

"No, y/n, it's all my fault, please-"

Somi overhears the entire conversation through the door, her mind finally relaxing after the misunderstanding had been solved between you and the King. She could no longer stand you being this sad. And she somehow knew King Changbin had his own reasons for his behavior.

She hears soft sounds of kissing through the door and takes it as a sign to move away from the door, and join the other maids waiting outside the palace door. She smiles to herself.

The butterflies burn with passion.

"I do not wish for a child this early. I want to be here like this with you for a while, just y/n and Changbin and maybe two or three years later, we could try for a child. What do you think?"

When he kissed you initially, you half expected this to end up in the bed. But it did. And you're glad it did.

The butterflies bloom more than ever.

You're wrapped in his arms, tightly. The nakedness no longer bothering the either of you.

"I agree. I want to be this close to you every night, not as a Queen or the mother of your child. But as y/n. As your wife."

Changbin draws his face closer to you, pecking you on the lips, "And so you shall, my love."

And so you shall.

[sparklingchan]

Tipsy Turvy || Choi San(Ateez)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Choi San

Word count : 5k+

Warnings : Cuss words , alcohol , hangover , mentions of over drinking, not proof read.

Genre : Fluff , a tiny bit of angst , romance , friends to lovers au.

Description : You have a complicated relationship with San , and the alcohol in your system makes it worse ( or better).

Author’s Note : So with all honesty , I have NO idea how people behave when drunk so I searched it up and wrote this 90%  based on that ( and 10% on  my friends’ advice). I hope at least one of y’all get the horrible pun in the title  -_-

Please do reblog , like and comment if you like this. My DMs are also open so if you want to gimme a review , feel free.

Enjoy!

The coffee in the cup must have gone cold by now, because the moment you touch it’s surface ,you don’t feel the same sting as you did a few minutes ago.

Not that it tasted good anyway. You’re almost glad you didn’t have to drink it but maybe, right now, you could use a sip or two to spare yourself a few seconds of peace.

Keep reading

[sparklingchan]

Serendipity || Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: Suggestive, mentions of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant) , mentions of poison, Changbin is sweeter than sugar. Set in the Joseon Era.

Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, fluff with very slight angst.

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

A/N: Hello everyone! Back with another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. I am genuinely in love with this one ngl. King Changbin is a rizzler y'all. Hope you guys have fun reading this <3

Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated)

Here's the link to the masterlist.

Being a woman in this country is not an easy task. Especially when one is a candidate for the position of the country's Queen.

You'd dreamt of this for years, the idea sewn into every thought by your father even since you were child. With time, you'd welcomed the thought without a complaint.

"My lady, the Royal messenger is here." Somi informs you, and your nervousness just goes up by a thousand.

Did you manage to become the Queen and make your father proud? Or did you get disqualified and were now just a daughter of some minister and free to marry any other commoner like yourself?

You run down the hallway and enter the pavillion in front of your house, the colorful banners of the Royal entourage shine under the bright sun.

You straighten your robes and kneel down, head almost touching the ground, as a mark of respect for the King's verdict.

The chief Eunuch opens up the scroll in his hands.

"Please find enclosed the Royal Edict from the King's Court:

I, Seo Changbin, the King of Joseon, have chosen Miss y/n of House Kim as my wife and, by extension, the Queen of our beloved country. I have consulted the three High State Councilors and my mother- the Queen Dowager about the same and we have all unanimously agreed that she would be the best choice for the country as well as the Royal family, owing it all to her wits, beauty and manners.

Congratulations to Miss y/n and her family.

The Royal family would also like to extend an invitation to the bride-to-be to shift into the Detached Palace at the earliest as part of the customary pre wedding ritual. "

It feels as if someone had punched out the air from your lungs, you couldn't speak nor stand, while your parents and brother continuously thanked the Royal Eunuch, accepting all the gifts sent by the Palace for you.

But you couldn't move. You just stayed there, frozen. For life as you had known it has come to an end.

And thereafter begins a new, Royal chapter of your life.

*

"I'm going to miss you, my child."

The days since the Edict pass by in a heartbeat. All the members of your family were busy with packing your belongings while you were busy with mentally preparing yourself to leave your family and house behind forever.

Yes, you'd always wanted to be a Queen. Yes, you'd spent years getting ready for this role. Yet when the time finally comes, it hurts you to think about leaving behind twenty three years of your life.

"I'm going to miss you too, mother." On hearing your words, your mother cries harder.

But as usual, your father shows no emotion. His face is calm.

"Remember, y/n, there are no friends in the Palace other than your husband. You cannot confide in anyone but him. The other concubines will do anything to gain his favor, but you shall always be a step ahead. Be vigilant and loyal. You will make a great Queen." He says. Like the strategist he'd always been.

"Yes, father." You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your mother clinges to your arm.

"We will try and visit you whenever we can. I'm sure his Majesty will allow."

"Yes, of course. You can visit me anytime. The Palace is only a few hours from here."

"Oh, my child! How will I ever live without you!" Another sob tears out from your mother's throat. You hug her with all the love and care you could muster up in that moment.

Your father walks out of the room, hands behind his back and face twisted into a frown.

*

The Detached Palace is to be a temporary residence for the bride-to-be. For over the next thirty days, you would be receiving lessons on various subjects like history, Royal Etiquette, sewing, cooking and most importantly- lessons on intimacy. The last lesson is considered most important, according to Somi, since it allows you to birth as many healthy heirs as possible.

After helping you dress up for the night and setting up your bed, your maids take your leave for the night, only Somi remaining by your side.

"Do you think I'll see the King tomorrow? It's queer but I'd like to know what my future husband looks like, at least."

Somi sighs, "I don't think it's allowed, my lady. I believe you can only see his Majesty on your wedding day. A month from now."

You're oddly disappointed. You had dreamt so many nights of seeing the King, holding his hand, being by his side, yet the King in those dreams often never had a face.

Was it wrong to yearn to look at your future husband's face? Just once?

A subtle knock on your door startles the both of you.

"Yes?"

"My lady, the King is here to see you." Your handmaid almost whispers the words through the door.

With unparalleled urgency, Somi helps you straighten your clothes and rushes off towards the door.

"Your majesty." The maids and Somi greet him with the customary bow, while you purse your lips in a line, head hanging in a subtle bow.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It's so loud, you're sure even the King could hear it.

"Please give us some privacy." The King commands.

And you heart beats faster on hearing his voice for the first time. Gentle, yet authoritative, just like you'd dreamt.

When Somi closes the door behind her, you almost regret wishing to see your future husband. The proximity makes you nervous and you could only hope you'd not faint in front of him.

"My lady, you may rise."

You'd almost forgotten you were still bowing to him. You mentally slap yourself.

"Y-yes, your majesty. " your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak, your eyes still on the ground.

You'd prayed for this moment for years, y/n. Why couldn't you just meet his eyes?

As if sensing your inner conflict, the King takes two long strides towards you and hooks his index finger under your chin, sending a chill down your body.

"My lady, please look at me."

And you do.

And he's like everything you'd ever wished for.

Perfect, like a beautifully crafted sculpture.

His soft brown locks, his rosy lips, the subtle mischief in his eyes. Everything is perfect.

"Y-yes, your majesty. Sorry." You mumble.

The king smiles, rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"You may call me Changbin when we're alone."

You nod.

"I just came to ask if you're finding your new residence comfortable. We both shall be busy with lessons tomorrow onwards so I figured tonight would be a good time to visit my bride."

His bride? His bride?

Your legs feel weak.

"I'm finding it extremely comfortable, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality. "

Changbin let's out a low chuckle, leaning towards you. His lips hover inches above yours. And when he speaks, you feel hot air on your lips, "I told you, y/n. Call me Changbin."

You frantically nod.

"Good. Better be careful next time, my bride."

*

When you wake up the next morning, you're sure you'd dreamt everything that happened last night.

But apparently not.

"The King is a dashing young man." Somi teases as she lathers a concoction of herbs into your hair. "You're lucky, my lady. He seems to be a gentleman."

But you are too caught up in your thoughts to reply to her.

Did the king of Joseon really come all the way to the Detached Palace to see you? What if he's disappointed with how you had reacted? But he shouldn't blame you at all.

You had not been expecting anyone yesterday night, especially not him. But he did come to you. And he touched your chin. If you focus hard enough, you could feel his touch lingering in the area.

"My lady?" Somi clicks her fingers in front of your eyes, "Come back to earth. We have to get you ready for the classes today."

Blushing, you reply, "What classes do I have today?"

You had three classes today: Palace etiquette, literature and what Somi insists most important: lessons on reproduction.

While Palace etiquette mostly includes lesson on how to behave with Royal elders, ministers, maids, the King, literature includes important pieces of literature that are important for a woman.

And lastly, the most dreaded time arrived.

The reproduction lessons.

The tutor shows you all sorts of obnoxious hand movements and some drawings of couples in intimate positions. You feel uncomfortable from the beginning till the end.

A woman at least five decades older than you is teaching you about intimacy? Very awkward, to say the least.

But you heave a sigh of relief when the classes end for the day and you make your way to your room in the Detached palace.

"It's just the first day, Somi and I'm already tired to the bone." You say, kicking your shoes off.

"Well, it's going to be a lifetime of time this now, my lady. And you best be prepared for it."

You reply Somi with silence. But her words make you wonder. If this palace life would ever be less tiring someday? Would it even be worth it?

Perhaps not.

But King Changbin 's face flashes in front of your eyes; his sparkling eyes, mischievous grin, his feather like touch- maybe he is what will make everything worth it.

That night, after your maids get your bed ready while Somi is combing your hair, a familiar announcement echoes through the corridors of the Detached Palace.

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

His smiling face peeps through the doors as your maids hurry out of the room. He wears blue silk robes, and you feel weaker in his presence than you did yesterday.

"Did you miss me, y/n?"

And thus begins a month of secret nightly visits by the King of Joseon to the Detached Palace.

Everyday, you wake up looking forward to the time when King Changbin would come knocking at your doors, always up to some jesting.

Sometimes, he brings you fruits you'd mentioned you liked or he tells you stories from his childhood. At other times, he tells you about that one teacher he will hate till the end of time.

But most times, he spends his time listening to you talk- about everything and everyone, about the skies and gods, about ghosts and afterlife, about favourite foods and literature. After you'd overcome the initial shyness, opening upto Changbin was as easy as breathing, almost natural. Of course, you were still nervous around him, but it's a feeling you'd come to like.

Is this what the writers and poets describe as 'butterflies'?

"Do you think I'll make a good Queen?" You ask him one night. He sits in front you on a cushion, across the room, a position you told him is appropriate for two unwed people (although he did not agree to it initially).

If your nightly shenanigans were to be ever discovered by anyone, you would not want to be found in close proximity to each other even though you were betrothed to each other. He's breaking Palace rules everyday as it is.

He hums, "Of course! I think you'll make a great Queen. You're so good at your lessons already."

"That does not guarantee anything. I might not be good at taking the responsibilities."

"Do you trust my judgment, y/n? I think you'll make a great Queen. And even if you are overwhelmed, I shall always be here."

That night he leaves earlier than he usually does, owing to the fact that tomorrow is the day where his concubines are to be welcomed into the palace. Five of them.

The thought leaves you feeling bitter and dejected, but you make sure to not make those feelings obvious. This is a rule for Kings, to take as many concubines as possible to ensure the continuation of the blood line.

"Don't worry, my lady. Your rank in the palace is above these petty concubines. They will not mess with you." Somi comforts your thoughts the next day.

"But what if Changbin favors them more?"

Somi does not reply to that question.

*

On your 18th birthday, your father had promised to you that he would make you the Queen of this country. He kept his promise because here you are, after five years, getting dressed to be married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your father always insisted that powerful men do not love but Changbin's sparkling eyes always contradicted everything your father had taught. Nevertheless, you know the competitiveness among the concubines for the King's affection is mad. More often than not, even the Queen gets involved in petty fights.

But you try to remove all thoughts of your father and the concubines today. Because today, you are to be married to King Changbin. From today, your name will be written in the historical logs of the Royal family. From today, a new life begins.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Somi asks, "You look worried."

"I'm fine. Just hope the ceremony goes well."

The ceremony does go well and in all honesty, you were not worried about the ceremony itself. You were worried about the aftermath.

The maids guide you to your new palace, and get you dressed in white robes for the wedding night. The night when you will finally meet Changbin as his wife. The butterflies swim around in your belly.

The bed is decorated with flower petals and a few candles are lit. Everything is perfect.

"The King is here." One of your ladies in waiting announce and you get up to greet your husband.

The maids leave the room as the doors slide open and Changbin steps in, also dressed in white robes. He looks dashing, but his signature grin is nowhere to be found.

When the doors close behind him, he walks past you to the bed, the scent of liquor evident in his breath.

"Have you been drinking, your majesty?" You ask him, worried by his odd behavior.

What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he even bother to meet your eyes?

"Changbin." He slurs, wrapping the blankets around him, "Call me Changbin."

He turns away from you and is snoring away in no time.

The butterflies in your stomach flutter around before dropping dead.

*

You did not sleep that night. Even though you were sleeping next to the man you love, you felt lonelier than ever.

Many times during the night, you consider walking out of the bed chamber to the servants quarter so you could talk to Somi. But you couldn't do that. Because you were now the Queen of this country and every single step you take will have its repercussions.

When morning comes, Changbin wakes up in a haste and greets you with a subtle nod and walks out of the chamber in long strides.

You well the tears back. It's your first day as Queen and hadn't he always promised to be there when you were overwhelmed? Had he lied? Or was it Changbin's doppelganger who visited you every night in the Detached palace?

Somi comes in a few minutes later with an excited smile on her face.

When she does your hair for the day, she asks, "So, how was the wedding night?"

You want to answer her truthfully - how cold Changbin had been, how he had not even looked at you let alone touch you, how you think he had changed almost overnight. But you see the prying eyes of the other palace maids and swallow your sadness.

"It was perfect. Like everything I'd ever hoped for."

"He was gentle, I hope." She says through a grin, but it feels like someone pouring alcohol on an open wound.

"Yes. He was."

As part of royal customs, the new bride is supposed to visit the senior most female member of the family and greet her. In your case, the member happens to King Changbin's mother.

Somi dresses you in the most exquisite silks and adorns your hair with the most precious flower but you feel nothing at all when everyone compliments you on the way out of your new Queen's palace.

Your mother in law's palace is a little far from the Queen's palace yet it is as beautiful as any other palace. From inside as well as outside.

"Greetings, your majesty. It is nice to meet you." You bow in front of the Queen Dowager.

The woman-not more than sixty years of age- looks at you with a gentle smile.

"Come in, y/n. Please be at ease."

You're seated in front of her on a cushion while the Queen Dowager's maids serve you breakfast.

"I hope your first day here goes well, my child. Our family is thrilled to have you." She says.

"The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. I am honored to be a part of this family." You say.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Changbin is thrilled to have you or not. Probably not.

The mere thought of yesterday's rejection stings.

"Y/n, truth be told, my son is a quite a troubled man. His father was murdered in front of his eyes. He was made the king when he was only 16 years old. It's been 7 years since then, but the burden only gets worse. I hope you, as a Queen and as his wife, can help him lessen these burdens. Can you do that?" The Queen Dowager asks again, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I will do everything I can to help him." If only he'd let you.

"Good, good. I'm glad. And one more thing, y/n, you know as Queen one of your primary duties is to produce an heir for Changbin's throne. I hope you're working on that, yes?"

Heat reaches your cheeks. If only the poor woman knew what her dear son had done last night. If his behavior continues, perhaps it will be long before the Queen Dowager sees the face of a royal grandchild.

"We are trying, your majesty. We will not disappoint you." You reply, sipping tea from your own cup.

"Great! I shall send all types of herbs and tonics to help you conceive as fast as possible. I shall also draw up a chart after consulting the astrologer..." the Queen Dowager's voice fades into the background as your mind drifts off to the nights in the Detached palace, when Changbin would come and spend all his free time with you, against the rules of the palace. At that time, you had been sure that producing an heir would be a beautiful process, not a chore.

But Changbin does not even treat the thought like a chore.

Did he not love you? Did his Royal duties burden him too much?

When you leave the Queen Dowager's palace, you walk past The King's palace. It is as beautiful and majestic as they say. But you wonder if you'll ever be able to set foot in the same.

As if on cue, you see Concubine Jung walking out of the King's palace, her maids behind her. The butterflies in your stomach burn with jealousy.

She has a smirk on her face when she sees you.

"Eun, did you know there's a rumor around the palace that the King refused to sleep with the Queen last night? Sad, isn't it?" Concubine Jung says.

One of her maids giggle and nod, "Of course! How could the Queen even live with this shame?"

You cry yourself to sleep that night, while Somi does everything in her abilities to soothe you.

Needless to say, nothing worked.

*

"My lady, wake up. The King has invited you to breakfast with him." Somi informs one morning, six months after your wedding.

"Tell him I have a bad stomach bug. I cannot go."

You'd be found dead before sharing a meal with him and that obnoxious Concubine Jung. You'd shared enough meals with them already.

The past months, the King had not visited you even once but often you'd see him walking the gardens with Concubine Jung at his side.

After the first few weeks, you had no tears left to shed anymore so when the rumor came in last month that Concubine Jung might be pregnant, your eyes do not water no matter how much you force yourself to cry.

"I do not wish to congratulate them." You say, true and plain.

"My lady, he's invited only you. Not anyone else."

So you agree. As a last attempt to make your marriage work, even if it's just for your own sake.

Somi dresses you in green robes- The King's favorite. You quickly make your way to his palace, as if someone else would take your place if you didn't hurry. It's sad your thoughts had turned so negative in just half a year in the palace.

Your father had told you the King would take in many lovers during his lifetime, and that being Queen is about having power, not being loved.

But you think he didn't warn you enough. He didn't warn you how lonely it would be to sleep on the cold bed every night, how painful it would be to see the King smile at someone else.

Even if you did wish for a child, how could you produce you a child without Changbin?

"Good morning, your majesty." You say to him when you enter his bed chamber. It smells like cinnamon, a smell he'd often carry with himself back when he used to visit you at the Detached palace. Back when you were sure the king had been in love with you.

"Hello, my Queen. Please have a seat."

The butterflies dance around for a split second.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asks, taking a seat in front of you.

"Yes." Lies. "Thank you for inviting me over."

When the maids leave the both of you alone, his demeanor changes.

"Actually, y/n, I had something to talk to you about." He says, casually, as if he hadn't been hurting you everyday for the past few months.

"What is it?" You ask.

He sighs, "It's mother. Ever since that rumor of Concubine Jung being pregnant spread. She wants the first grandchild to be of the Queen."

His words do not faze you, "How can I help you, Changbin?"

He frowns. Since when had your tone become this melancholic?

"Um, so if I have your consent, I'd like to try for a child tomorrow night. We'll see how that goes, yeah?"

"Okay. I will be honored." You say.

You finish up the food quickly and almost slide the doors open when he grabs your arm from behind.

"Y/n, what is it? Did something happen? Are your parents well?"

"My parents are well enough, thank you for asking." You say, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"Then? What happened? Is it Concubine Jung? Really, you did not have to be jealous of her. She's not pregnant. I can assure you of that. I have not consummated my marriage with any one of the concubines."

His words seem to have an effect on you. Your heart blossoms with hope but you keep your face and voice neutral.

"I am not jealous, Changbin. If one of the concubines get pregnant, I shall wish you both well."

You force your arm out of his grip and walk out the palace, not looking back once.

Changbin's stares at your leaving figure, now worried beyond relief that he might have broken the one person he cared for the most by his pursuits of a greater good.

*

While the past few months for you had been filled with loneliness, for Changbin it was almost the same-if not worse.

The first night of your marriage was filled with as many butterflies for him, as it was for you.

He had fallen in love with you and he wasn't afraid to show the world how much you meant to him. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. And he had all plans to do that on the first night.

But that was until he had overheard a secret conversation between Concubine Jung and her father- Minister Jung.

For all he knew, Minister Jung had always wanted his daughter to be the Queen but being the dim-wit that she was, Concubine Jung could not even get through the first stage.

"Father, it's been two days since I'd been in the palace and that man has not visited me once. He had not even asked for my name the day of the welcoming. What kind of man is he? And you say I am to be Queen!"

"Hush, child. In this palace, even the walls are listening. Be careful. And as far as the position of Queen is concerned, you need not worry. If the King does bed the Queen tonight and she get pregnant, we shall make sure her pregnancy terminates before maturity. I have connections with all sorts of medicine vendors in the country, be assured, she shall never see the face of a child. After we weaken the Queen, we can take her throne as easily!"

Changbin had wanted to laugh at the man's foolish plans but deep down, he was worried as well. For you.

Which is why he pushed you away for so long and kept Concubine Jung close. While she tried everything in her power to seduce him, he refused her under the pretense of keeping an oath of abstinence for a year.

Every time she tried to even hold his hand, Changbin thought of you; your innocent eyes, your talks, your wit, your hands, your beautiful hair. No woman could make him feel like you do.

Changbin's secret informants had confirmed that Minister Jung had not one but two houses full of gold and cash he'd collected as illegal taxes from the local people. He'd also sometimes force husbands to send their wives to him in exchange for money. Even the thought nauseated Changbin.

Every time Concubine Jung visited, he made sure to collect some sort of evidence through her. He even visited her every night and while she snored away, he stole some of her gold jewlery and clothes to get them checked as evidence of the illegal taxes her father had been collecting.

And sure enough, after a few months of spying on her and her father, Changbin had gathered enough evidence by now to expose both of them at the court.

But he realised quickly that Minister Jung had a few tricks up his sleeves as well. The rumor of his daughter's pregnancy would make it difficult for Changbin to expose him easily, and so Changbin waited every night that the rumors would die down so he could run to the Queen's Palace and hug you with all his might. You were not safe unless the father and daughter were deposed.

And for some selfish reasons, Changbin had hoped you'd understand the reason behind his distance. But no woman could find a logical reason behind her lover being absent and it was horribly wrong for him to expect you to do the same.

"Are you stupid?" His friend, the eccentric dancer Minho had asked him.

Changbin had told him how coldly you'd behaved this afternoon when he'd asked you if you wished to try for a child. Most women would giggle and blush. But you were like a statue.

"You push her away for months and make her feel lonely and not loved and what not and you have the audacity to ask her that?"

"Well, yes. Mother had been pressuring me for a child and obviously, even with the pressure, I would never do anything that y/n would not have wanted but I thought it would be a great way to reconnect with her. Even if it didn't end in child making or whatever."

Minho let's out a frustrated groan, "You have to learn so much, Bin. But let's start with this- be honest with her. She's your wife and you ought to tell her everything. Give answers to all her questions and hold her hand if she let's you. Small steps first, a child can wait."

Changbin nods, " Okay, should I go to her right now?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Minho says, earning a slap on the arm from The King of Joseon.

He should be glad he's not being beheaded for calling the King an idiot.

*

You're almost done getting ready for bed when the lady in waiting makes an unexpected announcement .

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

Your heart leaps and the butterflies come alive again only to die down once you realise why he might be there. For a child. Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that why people get married in the first place?

"Y/n." He sighs when he enters the room, almost out of relief. He purses his lips.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" You ask.

Oh, how badly he'd hurt you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, in your voice, in your mannerisms.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I have caused you pain and I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. But I hope you know that I really do love you and only you."

"Then why the distance? Why visit Concubine Jung every night?" You ask, hands on your hips.

The tears that had left you threatened to return again.

And he tells you everything. From the conversation he overheard to how insistently Concubine Jung asked him for a child to how much solid proof he'd collected over the months and how he'd sent those evidences to the Minister of Security, who in turn ensured that by tomorrow the Jungs will out of the palace and be imprisoned for life.

It all makes sense to you now, of course it does. Yet you feel guilty. He'd been trying to protect you, all this while.

"I'm sorry, Changbin. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I only-"

"Don't apologize, y/n. It's me that should apologize. I should have somehow tried to contact you and tell you about everything. I'm-"

"No, no, Please. Don't. You only tried to protect me and-"

"No, y/n, it's all my fault, please-"

Somi overhears the entire conversation through the door, her mind finally relaxing after the misunderstanding had been solved between you and the King. She could no longer stand you being this sad. And she somehow knew King Changbin had his own reasons for his behavior.

She hears soft sounds of kissing through the door and takes it as a sign to move away from the door, and join the other maids waiting outside the palace door. She smiles to herself.

The butterflies burn with passion.

"I do not wish for a child this early. I want to be here like this with you for a while, just y/n and Changbin and maybe two or three years later, we could try for a child. What do you think?"

When he kissed you initially, you half expected this to end up in the bed. But it did. And you're glad it did.

The butterflies bloom more than ever.

You're wrapped in his arms, tightly. The nakedness no longer bothering the either of you.

"I agree. I want to be this close to you every night, not as a Queen or the mother of your child. But as y/n. As your wife."

Changbin draws his face closer to you, pecking you on the lips, "And so you shall, my love."

And so you shall.

[sparklingchan]

[sparklingchan]

STRAY KIDS ROYAL AU

MASTERLIST

1. Bang Chan- Work in progress

2. Lee Minho- The way I love you

Description: He was a prince who was bound by his duty to the country. She was a harlot, longing for someone to love her. In stolen moments beneath the moonlit city, the two of them dared to dream of a love meant to be.

3. Seo Changbin- Serendipity

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

4. Hwang Hyunjin - Echoes

Description: One day, you’re a college student, barely making it through your finals. And the next, you wake up in a palace, married to the most beautiful man on earth. What the hell is happening?!

5. Han Jisung- Work in progress

6. Lee Felix- Work in progress

7. Kim Seungmin- A Duel of Hearts

Caught in a dilemma of affection, Kim Seungmin, a prince, finds himself drawn to you. There was but one obstacle to his pursuit —you’ve set a single condition for all potential suitors: no royal lineage.

8. Yang Jeongin- Work in progress

[sparklingchan]

Echoes|| Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Hyunjin

Word count : 5.8K+

Warnings : Blood, death, weapons, fire.

Genre : Romance, time-travel AU, royal AU, suggestive, mentions of death

Description: One day, you’re a college student, barely making it through your finals. And the next, you wake up in a palace, married to the most beautiful man on earth. What the hell is happening?!

A/N : HELLO MY TUMBLR FAM! I know its been way toooo long. And I’ll be honest, I missed everyone and I missed writing more than anything. I’ll try to post regularly and I hope my stories reach out to you as much as they did before.

Also, in other news, if this story gets a good response then imma write a mini series of royal stories for the other members as well(the stories will not be interrelated tho)

I hope y’all like this! I put my heart and soul into it!

You’re not sure if you’re awake anymore or just a frozen sack of meat staring at a painting like your life depended on it.

Keep reading

[sparklingchan]

Serendipity || Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: Suggestive, mentions of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant) , mentions of poison, Changbin is sweeter than sugar. Set in the Joseon Era.

Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, fluff with very slight angst.

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

A/N: Hello everyone! Back with another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. I am genuinely in love with this one ngl. King Changbin is a rizzler y'all. Hope you guys have fun reading this <3

Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated)

Here's the link to the masterlist.

Being a woman in this country is not an easy task. Especially when one is a candidate for the position of the country's Queen.

You'd dreamt of this for years, the idea sewn into every thought by your father even since you were child. With time, you'd welcomed the thought without a complaint.

"My lady, the Royal messenger is here." Somi informs you, and your nervousness just goes up by a thousand.

Did you manage to become the Queen and make your father proud? Or did you get disqualified and were now just a daughter of some minister and free to marry any other commoner like yourself?

You run down the hallway and enter the pavillion in front of your house, the colorful banners of the Royal entourage shine under the bright sun.

You straighten your robes and kneel down, head almost touching the ground, as a mark of respect for the King's verdict.

The chief Eunuch opens up the scroll in his hands.

"Please find enclosed the Royal Edict from the King's Court:

I, Seo Changbin, the King of Joseon, have chosen Miss y/n of House Kim as my wife and, by extension, the Queen of our beloved country. I have consulted the three High State Councilors and my mother- the Queen Dowager about the same and we have all unanimously agreed that she would be the best choice for the country as well as the Royal family, owing it all to her wits, beauty and manners.

Congratulations to Miss y/n and her family.

The Royal family would also like to extend an invitation to the bride-to-be to shift into the Detached Palace at the earliest as part of the customary pre wedding ritual. "

It feels as if someone had punched out the air from your lungs, you couldn't speak nor stand, while your parents and brother continuously thanked the Royal Eunuch, accepting all the gifts sent by the Palace for you.

But you couldn't move. You just stayed there, frozen. For life as you had known it has come to an end.

And thereafter begins a new, Royal chapter of your life.

*

"I'm going to miss you, my child."

The days since the Edict pass by in a heartbeat. All the members of your family were busy with packing your belongings while you were busy with mentally preparing yourself to leave your family and house behind forever.

Yes, you'd always wanted to be a Queen. Yes, you'd spent years getting ready for this role. Yet when the time finally comes, it hurts you to think about leaving behind twenty three years of your life.

"I'm going to miss you too, mother." On hearing your words, your mother cries harder.

But as usual, your father shows no emotion. His face is calm.

"Remember, y/n, there are no friends in the Palace other than your husband. You cannot confide in anyone but him. The other concubines will do anything to gain his favor, but you shall always be a step ahead. Be vigilant and loyal. You will make a great Queen." He says. Like the strategist he'd always been.

"Yes, father." You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your mother clinges to your arm.

"We will try and visit you whenever we can. I'm sure his Majesty will allow."

"Yes, of course. You can visit me anytime. The Palace is only a few hours from here."

"Oh, my child! How will I ever live without you!" Another sob tears out from your mother's throat. You hug her with all the love and care you could muster up in that moment.

Your father walks out of the room, hands behind his back and face twisted into a frown.

*

The Detached Palace is to be a temporary residence for the bride-to-be. For over the next thirty days, you would be receiving lessons on various subjects like history, Royal Etiquette, sewing, cooking and most importantly- lessons on intimacy. The last lesson is considered most important, according to Somi, since it allows you to birth as many healthy heirs as possible.

After helping you dress up for the night and setting up your bed, your maids take your leave for the night, only Somi remaining by your side.

"Do you think I'll see the King tomorrow? It's queer but I'd like to know what my future husband looks like, at least."

Somi sighs, "I don't think it's allowed, my lady. I believe you can only see his Majesty on your wedding day. A month from now."

You're oddly disappointed. You had dreamt so many nights of seeing the King, holding his hand, being by his side, yet the King in those dreams often never had a face.

Was it wrong to yearn to look at your future husband's face? Just once?

A subtle knock on your door startles the both of you.

"Yes?"

"My lady, the King is here to see you." Your handmaid almost whispers the words through the door.

With unparalleled urgency, Somi helps you straighten your clothes and rushes off towards the door.

"Your majesty." The maids and Somi greet him with the customary bow, while you purse your lips in a line, head hanging in a subtle bow.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It's so loud, you're sure even the King could hear it.

"Please give us some privacy." The King commands.

And you heart beats faster on hearing his voice for the first time. Gentle, yet authoritative, just like you'd dreamt.

When Somi closes the door behind her, you almost regret wishing to see your future husband. The proximity makes you nervous and you could only hope you'd not faint in front of him.

"My lady, you may rise."

You'd almost forgotten you were still bowing to him. You mentally slap yourself.

"Y-yes, your majesty. " your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak, your eyes still on the ground.

You'd prayed for this moment for years, y/n. Why couldn't you just meet his eyes?

As if sensing your inner conflict, the King takes two long strides towards you and hooks his index finger under your chin, sending a chill down your body.

"My lady, please look at me."

And you do.

And he's like everything you'd ever wished for.

Perfect, like a beautifully crafted sculpture.

His soft brown locks, his rosy lips, the subtle mischief in his eyes. Everything is perfect.

"Y-yes, your majesty. Sorry." You mumble.

The king smiles, rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"You may call me Changbin when we're alone."

You nod.

"I just came to ask if you're finding your new residence comfortable. We both shall be busy with lessons tomorrow onwards so I figured tonight would be a good time to visit my bride."

His bride? His bride?

Your legs feel weak.

"I'm finding it extremely comfortable, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality. "

Changbin let's out a low chuckle, leaning towards you. His lips hover inches above yours. And when he speaks, you feel hot air on your lips, "I told you, y/n. Call me Changbin."

You frantically nod.

"Good. Better be careful next time, my bride."

*

When you wake up the next morning, you're sure you'd dreamt everything that happened last night.

But apparently not.

"The King is a dashing young man." Somi teases as she lathers a concoction of herbs into your hair. "You're lucky, my lady. He seems to be a gentleman."

But you are too caught up in your thoughts to reply to her.

Did the king of Joseon really come all the way to the Detached Palace to see you? What if he's disappointed with how you had reacted? But he shouldn't blame you at all.

You had not been expecting anyone yesterday night, especially not him. But he did come to you. And he touched your chin. If you focus hard enough, you could feel his touch lingering in the area.

"My lady?" Somi clicks her fingers in front of your eyes, "Come back to earth. We have to get you ready for the classes today."

Blushing, you reply, "What classes do I have today?"

You had three classes today: Palace etiquette, literature and what Somi insists most important: lessons on reproduction.

While Palace etiquette mostly includes lesson on how to behave with Royal elders, ministers, maids, the King, literature includes important pieces of literature that are important for a woman.

And lastly, the most dreaded time arrived.

The reproduction lessons.

The tutor shows you all sorts of obnoxious hand movements and some drawings of couples in intimate positions. You feel uncomfortable from the beginning till the end.

A woman at least five decades older than you is teaching you about intimacy? Very awkward, to say the least.

But you heave a sigh of relief when the classes end for the day and you make your way to your room in the Detached palace.

"It's just the first day, Somi and I'm already tired to the bone." You say, kicking your shoes off.

"Well, it's going to be a lifetime of time this now, my lady. And you best be prepared for it."

You reply Somi with silence. But her words make you wonder. If this palace life would ever be less tiring someday? Would it even be worth it?

Perhaps not.

But King Changbin 's face flashes in front of your eyes; his sparkling eyes, mischievous grin, his feather like touch- maybe he is what will make everything worth it.

That night, after your maids get your bed ready while Somi is combing your hair, a familiar announcement echoes through the corridors of the Detached Palace.

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

His smiling face peeps through the doors as your maids hurry out of the room. He wears blue silk robes, and you feel weaker in his presence than you did yesterday.

"Did you miss me, y/n?"

And thus begins a month of secret nightly visits by the King of Joseon to the Detached Palace.

Everyday, you wake up looking forward to the time when King Changbin would come knocking at your doors, always up to some jesting.

Sometimes, he brings you fruits you'd mentioned you liked or he tells you stories from his childhood. At other times, he tells you about that one teacher he will hate till the end of time.

But most times, he spends his time listening to you talk- about everything and everyone, about the skies and gods, about ghosts and afterlife, about favourite foods and literature. After you'd overcome the initial shyness, opening upto Changbin was as easy as breathing, almost natural. Of course, you were still nervous around him, but it's a feeling you'd come to like.

Is this what the writers and poets describe as 'butterflies'?

"Do you think I'll make a good Queen?" You ask him one night. He sits in front you on a cushion, across the room, a position you told him is appropriate for two unwed people (although he did not agree to it initially).

If your nightly shenanigans were to be ever discovered by anyone, you would not want to be found in close proximity to each other even though you were betrothed to each other. He's breaking Palace rules everyday as it is.

He hums, "Of course! I think you'll make a great Queen. You're so good at your lessons already."

"That does not guarantee anything. I might not be good at taking the responsibilities."

"Do you trust my judgment, y/n? I think you'll make a great Queen. And even if you are overwhelmed, I shall always be here."

That night he leaves earlier than he usually does, owing to the fact that tomorrow is the day where his concubines are to be welcomed into the palace. Five of them.

The thought leaves you feeling bitter and dejected, but you make sure to not make those feelings obvious. This is a rule for Kings, to take as many concubines as possible to ensure the continuation of the blood line.

"Don't worry, my lady. Your rank in the palace is above these petty concubines. They will not mess with you." Somi comforts your thoughts the next day.

"But what if Changbin favors them more?"

Somi does not reply to that question.

*

On your 18th birthday, your father had promised to you that he would make you the Queen of this country. He kept his promise because here you are, after five years, getting dressed to be married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your father always insisted that powerful men do not love but Changbin's sparkling eyes always contradicted everything your father had taught. Nevertheless, you know the competitiveness among the concubines for the King's affection is mad. More often than not, even the Queen gets involved in petty fights.

But you try to remove all thoughts of your father and the concubines today. Because today, you are to be married to King Changbin. From today, your name will be written in the historical logs of the Royal family. From today, a new life begins.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Somi asks, "You look worried."

"I'm fine. Just hope the ceremony goes well."

The ceremony does go well and in all honesty, you were not worried about the ceremony itself. You were worried about the aftermath.

The maids guide you to your new palace, and get you dressed in white robes for the wedding night. The night when you will finally meet Changbin as his wife. The butterflies swim around in your belly.

The bed is decorated with flower petals and a few candles are lit. Everything is perfect.

"The King is here." One of your ladies in waiting announce and you get up to greet your husband.

The maids leave the room as the doors slide open and Changbin steps in, also dressed in white robes. He looks dashing, but his signature grin is nowhere to be found.

When the doors close behind him, he walks past you to the bed, the scent of liquor evident in his breath.

"Have you been drinking, your majesty?" You ask him, worried by his odd behavior.

What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he even bother to meet your eyes?

"Changbin." He slurs, wrapping the blankets around him, "Call me Changbin."

He turns away from you and is snoring away in no time.

The butterflies in your stomach flutter around before dropping dead.

*

You did not sleep that night. Even though you were sleeping next to the man you love, you felt lonelier than ever.

Many times during the night, you consider walking out of the bed chamber to the servants quarter so you could talk to Somi. But you couldn't do that. Because you were now the Queen of this country and every single step you take will have its repercussions.

When morning comes, Changbin wakes up in a haste and greets you with a subtle nod and walks out of the chamber in long strides.

You well the tears back. It's your first day as Queen and hadn't he always promised to be there when you were overwhelmed? Had he lied? Or was it Changbin's doppelganger who visited you every night in the Detached palace?

Somi comes in a few minutes later with an excited smile on her face.

When she does your hair for the day, she asks, "So, how was the wedding night?"

You want to answer her truthfully - how cold Changbin had been, how he had not even looked at you let alone touch you, how you think he had changed almost overnight. But you see the prying eyes of the other palace maids and swallow your sadness.

"It was perfect. Like everything I'd ever hoped for."

"He was gentle, I hope." She says through a grin, but it feels like someone pouring alcohol on an open wound.

"Yes. He was."

As part of royal customs, the new bride is supposed to visit the senior most female member of the family and greet her. In your case, the member happens to King Changbin's mother.

Somi dresses you in the most exquisite silks and adorns your hair with the most precious flower but you feel nothing at all when everyone compliments you on the way out of your new Queen's palace.

Your mother in law's palace is a little far from the Queen's palace yet it is as beautiful as any other palace. From inside as well as outside.

"Greetings, your majesty. It is nice to meet you." You bow in front of the Queen Dowager.

The woman-not more than sixty years of age- looks at you with a gentle smile.

"Come in, y/n. Please be at ease."

You're seated in front of her on a cushion while the Queen Dowager's maids serve you breakfast.

"I hope your first day here goes well, my child. Our family is thrilled to have you." She says.

"The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. I am honored to be a part of this family." You say.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Changbin is thrilled to have you or not. Probably not.

The mere thought of yesterday's rejection stings.

"Y/n, truth be told, my son is a quite a troubled man. His father was murdered in front of his eyes. He was made the king when he was only 16 years old. It's been 7 years since then, but the burden only gets worse. I hope you, as a Queen and as his wife, can help him lessen these burdens. Can you do that?" The Queen Dowager asks again, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I will do everything I can to help him." If only he'd let you.

"Good, good. I'm glad. And one more thing, y/n, you know as Queen one of your primary duties is to produce an heir for Changbin's throne. I hope you're working on that, yes?"

Heat reaches your cheeks. If only the poor woman knew what her dear son had done last night. If his behavior continues, perhaps it will be long before the Queen Dowager sees the face of a royal grandchild.

"We are trying, your majesty. We will not disappoint you." You reply, sipping tea from your own cup.

"Great! I shall send all types of herbs and tonics to help you conceive as fast as possible. I shall also draw up a chart after consulting the astrologer..." the Queen Dowager's voice fades into the background as your mind drifts off to the nights in the Detached palace, when Changbin would come and spend all his free time with you, against the rules of the palace. At that time, you had been sure that producing an heir would be a beautiful process, not a chore.

But Changbin does not even treat the thought like a chore.

Did he not love you? Did his Royal duties burden him too much?

When you leave the Queen Dowager's palace, you walk past The King's palace. It is as beautiful and majestic as they say. But you wonder if you'll ever be able to set foot in the same.

As if on cue, you see Concubine Jung walking out of the King's palace, her maids behind her. The butterflies in your stomach burn with jealousy.

She has a smirk on her face when she sees you.

"Eun, did you know there's a rumor around the palace that the King refused to sleep with the Queen last night? Sad, isn't it?" Concubine Jung says.

One of her maids giggle and nod, "Of course! How could the Queen even live with this shame?"

You cry yourself to sleep that night, while Somi does everything in her abilities to soothe you.

Needless to say, nothing worked.

*

"My lady, wake up. The King has invited you to breakfast with him." Somi informs one morning, six months after your wedding.

"Tell him I have a bad stomach bug. I cannot go."

You'd be found dead before sharing a meal with him and that obnoxious Concubine Jung. You'd shared enough meals with them already.

The past months, the King had not visited you even once but often you'd see him walking the gardens with Concubine Jung at his side.

After the first few weeks, you had no tears left to shed anymore so when the rumor came in last month that Concubine Jung might be pregnant, your eyes do not water no matter how much you force yourself to cry.

"I do not wish to congratulate them." You say, true and plain.

"My lady, he's invited only you. Not anyone else."

So you agree. As a last attempt to make your marriage work, even if it's just for your own sake.

Somi dresses you in green robes- The King's favorite. You quickly make your way to his palace, as if someone else would take your place if you didn't hurry. It's sad your thoughts had turned so negative in just half a year in the palace.

Your father had told you the King would take in many lovers during his lifetime, and that being Queen is about having power, not being loved.

But you think he didn't warn you enough. He didn't warn you how lonely it would be to sleep on the cold bed every night, how painful it would be to see the King smile at someone else.

Even if you did wish for a child, how could you produce you a child without Changbin?

"Good morning, your majesty." You say to him when you enter his bed chamber. It smells like cinnamon, a smell he'd often carry with himself back when he used to visit you at the Detached palace. Back when you were sure the king had been in love with you.

"Hello, my Queen. Please have a seat."

The butterflies dance around for a split second.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asks, taking a seat in front of you.

"Yes." Lies. "Thank you for inviting me over."

When the maids leave the both of you alone, his demeanor changes.

"Actually, y/n, I had something to talk to you about." He says, casually, as if he hadn't been hurting you everyday for the past few months.

"What is it?" You ask.

He sighs, "It's mother. Ever since that rumor of Concubine Jung being pregnant spread. She wants the first grandchild to be of the Queen."

His words do not faze you, "How can I help you, Changbin?"

He frowns. Since when had your tone become this melancholic?

"Um, so if I have your consent, I'd like to try for a child tomorrow night. We'll see how that goes, yeah?"

"Okay. I will be honored." You say.

You finish up the food quickly and almost slide the doors open when he grabs your arm from behind.

"Y/n, what is it? Did something happen? Are your parents well?"

"My parents are well enough, thank you for asking." You say, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"Then? What happened? Is it Concubine Jung? Really, you did not have to be jealous of her. She's not pregnant. I can assure you of that. I have not consummated my marriage with any one of the concubines."

His words seem to have an effect on you. Your heart blossoms with hope but you keep your face and voice neutral.

"I am not jealous, Changbin. If one of the concubines get pregnant, I shall wish you both well."

You force your arm out of his grip and walk out the palace, not looking back once.

Changbin's stares at your leaving figure, now worried beyond relief that he might have broken the one person he cared for the most by his pursuits of a greater good.

*

While the past few months for you had been filled with loneliness, for Changbin it was almost the same-if not worse.

The first night of your marriage was filled with as many butterflies for him, as it was for you.

He had fallen in love with you and he wasn't afraid to show the world how much you meant to him. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. And he had all plans to do that on the first night.

But that was until he had overheard a secret conversation between Concubine Jung and her father- Minister Jung.

For all he knew, Minister Jung had always wanted his daughter to be the Queen but being the dim-wit that she was, Concubine Jung could not even get through the first stage.

"Father, it's been two days since I'd been in the palace and that man has not visited me once. He had not even asked for my name the day of the welcoming. What kind of man is he? And you say I am to be Queen!"

"Hush, child. In this palace, even the walls are listening. Be careful. And as far as the position of Queen is concerned, you need not worry. If the King does bed the Queen tonight and she get pregnant, we shall make sure her pregnancy terminates before maturity. I have connections with all sorts of medicine vendors in the country, be assured, she shall never see the face of a child. After we weaken the Queen, we can take her throne as easily!"

Changbin had wanted to laugh at the man's foolish plans but deep down, he was worried as well. For you.

Which is why he pushed you away for so long and kept Concubine Jung close. While she tried everything in her power to seduce him, he refused her under the pretense of keeping an oath of abstinence for a year.

Every time she tried to even hold his hand, Changbin thought of you; your innocent eyes, your talks, your wit, your hands, your beautiful hair. No woman could make him feel like you do.

Changbin's secret informants had confirmed that Minister Jung had not one but two houses full of gold and cash he'd collected as illegal taxes from the local people. He'd also sometimes force husbands to send their wives to him in exchange for money. Even the thought nauseated Changbin.

Every time Concubine Jung visited, he made sure to collect some sort of evidence through her. He even visited her every night and while she snored away, he stole some of her gold jewlery and clothes to get them checked as evidence of the illegal taxes her father had been collecting.

And sure enough, after a few months of spying on her and her father, Changbin had gathered enough evidence by now to expose both of them at the court.

But he realised quickly that Minister Jung had a few tricks up his sleeves as well. The rumor of his daughter's pregnancy would make it difficult for Changbin to expose him easily, and so Changbin waited every night that the rumors would die down so he could run to the Queen's Palace and hug you with all his might. You were not safe unless the father and daughter were deposed.

And for some selfish reasons, Changbin had hoped you'd understand the reason behind his distance. But no woman could find a logical reason behind her lover being absent and it was horribly wrong for him to expect you to do the same.

"Are you stupid?" His friend, the eccentric dancer Minho had asked him.

Changbin had told him how coldly you'd behaved this afternoon when he'd asked you if you wished to try for a child. Most women would giggle and blush. But you were like a statue.

"You push her away for months and make her feel lonely and not loved and what not and you have the audacity to ask her that?"

"Well, yes. Mother had been pressuring me for a child and obviously, even with the pressure, I would never do anything that y/n would not have wanted but I thought it would be a great way to reconnect with her. Even if it didn't end in child making or whatever."

Minho let's out a frustrated groan, "You have to learn so much, Bin. But let's start with this- be honest with her. She's your wife and you ought to tell her everything. Give answers to all her questions and hold her hand if she let's you. Small steps first, a child can wait."

Changbin nods, " Okay, should I go to her right now?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Minho says, earning a slap on the arm from The King of Joseon.

He should be glad he's not being beheaded for calling the King an idiot.

*

You're almost done getting ready for bed when the lady in waiting makes an unexpected announcement .

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

Your heart leaps and the butterflies come alive again only to die down once you realise why he might be there. For a child. Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that why people get married in the first place?

"Y/n." He sighs when he enters the room, almost out of relief. He purses his lips.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" You ask.

Oh, how badly he'd hurt you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, in your voice, in your mannerisms.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I have caused you pain and I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. But I hope you know that I really do love you and only you."

"Then why the distance? Why visit Concubine Jung every night?" You ask, hands on your hips.

The tears that had left you threatened to return again.

And he tells you everything. From the conversation he overheard to how insistently Concubine Jung asked him for a child to how much solid proof he'd collected over the months and how he'd sent those evidences to the Minister of Security, who in turn ensured that by tomorrow the Jungs will out of the palace and be imprisoned for life.

It all makes sense to you now, of course it does. Yet you feel guilty. He'd been trying to protect you, all this while.

"I'm sorry, Changbin. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I only-"

"Don't apologize, y/n. It's me that should apologize. I should have somehow tried to contact you and tell you about everything. I'm-"

"No, no, Please. Don't. You only tried to protect me and-"

"No, y/n, it's all my fault, please-"

Somi overhears the entire conversation through the door, her mind finally relaxing after the misunderstanding had been solved between you and the King. She could no longer stand you being this sad. And she somehow knew King Changbin had his own reasons for his behavior.

She hears soft sounds of kissing through the door and takes it as a sign to move away from the door, and join the other maids waiting outside the palace door. She smiles to herself.

The butterflies burn with passion.

"I do not wish for a child this early. I want to be here like this with you for a while, just y/n and Changbin and maybe two or three years later, we could try for a child. What do you think?"

When he kissed you initially, you half expected this to end up in the bed. But it did. And you're glad it did.

The butterflies bloom more than ever.

You're wrapped in his arms, tightly. The nakedness no longer bothering the either of you.

"I agree. I want to be this close to you every night, not as a Queen or the mother of your child. But as y/n. As your wife."

Changbin draws his face closer to you, pecking you on the lips, "And so you shall, my love."

And so you shall.

[sparklingchan]

The way I love you || Lee Minho (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Lee Know

Word count : 4k+

Warnings : Sexual implications, making out, prostitution, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death, cuss words.

Genre : Romance, angst, royal AU, suggestive.

Description: He was a prince, bound by his duty. She was a harlot, longing for someone to love her truly. In stolen moments beneath the moonlit city, they dared to dream of a love meant to be.

A/N : HELLO MY TUMBLR FAM! I'm back again with the Royal fics haha. And this time it's my boi Lino<3 I hope y’all like this! It's one of my favorites!

And as I promised, I'll make a masterlist for all the Royal fics. Here is the link. Do check out the other fics in this series(the stories are not interrelated)!

Minho hates coming to the main market; he hates the sticky workers bumping into him, he hates the smell of burnt meat, he hates the sound of noisy instruments people play in the name of music.

The only things he does like about the market is the wine, and you.

"Here for y/n again, my Prince?" One of the courtesans-Taylor- asks him just as he enters the tavern. She wears the brightest of lipsticks and smells like jasmine.

"I'm here for the wine." He says, which is only half a lie.

"As you say, my prince," Taylor giggles, "Your y/n is on the third floor as always. She hasn't had any customers today."

He walks the flight of stairs without breaking sweat and knocks on your door, excitement bubbling inside him.

The door opens and he catches a whiff of your rose scented perfume.

"Well, hello there," you smile at him, "Long time, huh?"

He chuckles, "It's only been three days, y/n."

You pull him inside by his collar, shut the door behind him and immediately draw your mouth to his.

You'd missed him, clearly.

In your dark lit bedroom, many men entered everyday for the purpose of their pleasure. But Minho was the only who entered this room everyday only to please you.

"Excited, aren't we?" He asks you when you push him onto the bed and climb over him, "I missed you, y/n."

You kiss him again; this time with more force, more passion and a lot more tongue. He reciprocates your action with equal enthusiasm.

As the night grows colder and darker, you find yourself cuddling with the man under your quilt. The love bites on both of your bodies barely visible under the light of a single candle.

"I wonder what magic keeps me coming back for more everyday. " Minho says softly, his fingers playing with your hair.

"Oh, does the 'Perfect Prince' not want to be seen in a whore's bed? Does it embarrass him?" You ask, playfully.

His mouth twists into a smirk, "Never. Not even in a thousand years."

He kisses you again and again and again until the last candle dies out and the quilt finds its place in some corner of the floor.

*

"Taylor, it's too early to be bothering me with customers!" You yell first thing in the morning, still sleepy and still cold from the absence of Minho's body against you.

"Y/n, it's not a customer. I need to talk to you." She yells back, "Open the door."

Groaning, you push yourself towards the door.

"What is it?"

Her face lacks the usual cheerfulness. She looks grim. Sad, almost.

"Minho didn't wanna wake you up," she pulls an envelope from her pocket, "He asked me to give you this."

"Okay. I'll read it later." You mutter. It's not unusual for Minho to deliver love letters for you sometimes. What's so special about this one?

"Y/n, read it." Taylor says, "Now."

There's an underlying urgency in her words that she tries to mask but doesn't escape your notice.

You walk back to your bed and open the letter.

Hi, y/n.

This is probably the last time that I'm writing to you. I feel sick even just at the thought of being without you but I have to do my princely duties now.

I'm getting married to Princess Sophie soon. My father commands it.

Y/n, I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me someday. I really meant it when I said I loved you.

Minho.

Inside the half empty envelope are a few coins of gold.

He paid you. For sleeping with him. For the first time ever.

It's as if the air is forced out of your lungs. You find it hard to breathe, hard to keep your eyes open, hard to even comprehend Taylor's questions.

You're not even in that room anymore.

You are by the river at midnight, with Minho. He'd set up a fire and covered the both of you with a quilt while he sung a soft melody.

You are in the rain, shouting profanities at each other. That was the day when he first told you he loved you.

You are at the tavern's terrace, kissing him for the first time.

You are at the Royal Palace. That's the day he first sees you, bold and loud, not afraid to say 'no' to sleeping with his monstrous father.

You are at the main market, buying a new pair of earrings when an injured Prince shows up at the shop. That's when you first see him.

You only had one regret at present.

You never got to tell him how much you loved him.

*

"Y/n, I know you're grieving but you cannot refuse customers anymore. You know this is what brings food to your table!" Taylor wraps a shawl around your half naked frame, "You always knew Minho could not just leave the palace and come live with you in this brothel, didn't you?"

You'd had another episode today; screaming and punching a customer while he tried to take your clothes off.

That's three days in a row.

If Taylor hadn't been there, the boss would have killed you with his own bare hands.

"I know," you say, "But I just...can't. I cannot bring myself to accept the fact that he burnt down the past year to the worth of a few coins. I have no lust for gold. I have no desire for a family, especially when my own father sold me here. I only loved him and now, he's fucking gone."

Taylor rubs your shoulders gently.

"Y/n, I know. But you have to get yourself together or you will only hurt yourself." She replies, "For all I know, he could be already married now. Sticking his fucking tongue in Sophie's mouth."

You look up at her.

"What do you mean? His wedding is today?" You ask.

She nods, "The city has been decorated like never before."

You force yourself out of her embrace and rush towards your cupboard.

"What are you doing, y/n?" Taylor asks.

"Going to crash a royal wedding."

*

Minho has developed a habit of looking for your eyes everywhere he goes. It's not a good one, but he can't seem to get rid of this habit.

And on his wedding day, as he stands at the alter, holding his fiancé's hand while the priest talks about loving, cherishing and honoring Princess Sophie for life, he cannot stop himself from looking for you in the sea of people.

Rich and powerful people from all over the world are present in the hall but somewhere in between these people, he sees a glimpse of someone he knows. Too well, in fact.

"Y/n?" He whispers to himself, heart pounding against his chest.

"Minho, are you alright? Your hands are getting sweaty." Sophie whispers but he just shrugs, his eyes glued to you.

As were yours, to his.

You didn't think he'd notice you amongst the velvet clad aristocrats but he did. And you wish he hadn't.

The bride and groom exchange wine glasses and have a sip from it.

"If anyone has any objections to this holy matrimony, speak now. Or hold your peace forever." The priest announces and the room goes quiet.

Of course no one would object to this wedding.

No one except you.

Minho sees a single hand raised among the crowd.

"Yes, miss?" The priest says.

"How could the prince marry another woman when his child grows inside me? What about the seed that he left behind? If I choose to give birth to this child, will it be your successor, my prince?"

Minho feels the blood drain from his face.

"You! How dare you?" Minho screams at you, his heart breaking into a million pieces. He would never speak to you in this way, but he has to. To protect you from this mess you'd created, he must be harsh.

He is the prince and he will be safe but you, they wouldn't spare you.

"How dare you?" You yell back, eyes bloodshot, "Do you think a few coins could make up for what you did to me?"

"Quiet! You whore! Dare you to disrupt a royal wedding with false accusations?" The king-Minho's father finally speaks. "Guards! Take her to the guillotine and bedhead her!"

"Father, no! I will deal with this in my own way." Minho says, almost losing his calm. "Guards, take the woman to the dungeons."

Your tears roll down your cheeks and you quickly rub them off with your hand as the guards take you down to the dungeons. You're sure he's gonna get you killed.

You take one last glance at the man you love and smile at him.

So long, Minho.

*

The wedding is called off and Princess Sophie storms out of the wedding hall along with her father. Of course, Minho's father was furious.

"I will kill her. I will kill her with my bare hands!" The king slams his fist against the table, "She ruined everything! Everything!"

"Father, please calm down." Hyunjin-Minho's younger brother says. "We have to think of a way to make up with Princess Sophie and her family."

"He's right. Being angry won't solve our problem." Minho says, twirling the wine in his glass, a playful smile on his face.

The king glares at his eldest son, walks toward him and smashes the glass from his hands.

"How dare you sit in my room, relaxed as ever, while you've fucked up so bad?" He yells, " You slept with a common whore, impregnated her and I have to suffer for it?"

Minho wants to defend himself but he knows it's of no use when the king raises his fist in the air and punches right at Minho's nose.

Minho smells the blood before he sees it.

Hyunjin tries to stop the king and mouths at Minho, leave now.

Minho does as he is told.

That night, as he cleans the blood from his face, he finally let's himself relax a little.

Today was a blunder, a total disaster but at least he didn't have to marry some other woman. He couldn't imagine life with a woman he didn't love. He considered himself a coward for not fighting for you enough, which is why you were in prison. Nevertheless, he swears to himself that he will save you from this mess. It didn't matter what he had to do, he would make sure you're out of prison by tomorrow.

"You're a reckless idiot, y/n." He mutters to himself, "But you're my reckless idiot."

*

You've never seen Taylor look this sad before. Her eyes are bloodshot and the tip of her nose shines red.

"I told you," she says to you, handing you some food, "I told you not to do this. Now look what they've done! Minho has you locked up and you can be sentenced to death any minute!"

"Well, it was worth a shot, really." You say to her.

Taylor snickers at your words, "Also, are you really pregnant or did you make it up to get his attention?"

You chuckle, "Of course I'm not pregnant. I just thought it would add a bit spice to the drama."

"Fine. Whatever. Just do not die on me, y/n. I swear. You're my.." Taylor sucks in a deep breath, "You're my only family. Please."

You blink your tears away before Taylor even notices. You take a spoonful of the porridge she made and stuff it in your mouth so you'd forget about her words. You're too weak for this right now.

"Y/n, just promise me-" Taylor is interrupted by the prison guard.

"Prince Minho is here to see you."

Even the porridge in your mouth does not stop your heart from aching and your eyes from tearing up.

Why is he here?

"Your majesty." Taylor greets him with the basic courtesy. You, on the other hand are looking at everything but him.

"Taylor, may I have a word with y/n alone? My guards here will take you up to my room. I have something important to discuss with you as well."

Taylor nods with a word and follows his guard.

Now it's just you and him. In a jail cell. While your heart breaks knowing he will serve you with capital punishment.

Is it the heavens punishing a common whore like yourself for loving the prince?

Perhaps.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Minho says in a soft whisper. His voice is filled with concern but you cannot look at him. Absolutely not.

If you even as much glance at those eyes you'd fallen in love with, you know you might lose all your will power.

"Fine." You reply sternly, "What do you want?"

Minho sucks in a deep breath, "I wish I had more time to explain but it'll all make sense some day, okay? For now, just trust me."

He offers you a vile of clear liquid.

"It's not anything bad, I swear. Just trust me, please. " He puts it on your palm.

His touch sends shivers down your spine.

And just like that, he turns around and walks away.

You stare at the vile in your hands and for a split second, you wonder if he'd handed you some type of poison. You wish he did.

And when you open the vile and gulp down that bitter liquid, you pray to the gods that you never wake up again because that's when your body hits the ground.

*

Hyunjin is anxious from the moment he wakes up in the morning.

He's anxious while he has breakfast, he's anxious while he avoids the eyes of palace officials to sneak into the old quarters of his mother.

He's especially anxious when he sees you lying on the bed, lips pale and stiff.

"I hope this works for God's sake." He pulls out a vile of purple liquid from his pocket and carefully, pours it into your mouth.

He curses Minho for handing him with the scariest possible task ever.

And as he paces the room, waiting for the antidote to work, he prays to every God, every spirit, every deity he's ever heard of.

Within a few minutes, much to his relief, your eyes open.

You look at Hyunjin alarmingly.

"You..You're his brother." You say, almost as if accusing him of a crime, "Aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm Hyunjin." He seats at the foot of the bed, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. But my head hurts real bad." You reply, "Where's Minho? That bastard gave me a bitter drink and disappeared!"

Hyunjin notices your hopeful gaze go from the ceiling of the room to his face and then to his outfit. The mourning outfit.

"Why are you in mourning? And why are you wearing that badge with a dove on it?" Your voice is alarmed and you immediately sit up.

You remember Minho had once told you that the dove badge worn by the Royal family implies a death of a member of the Royal bloodline.

"Is Minho okay?" Your words are almost a whisper.

"Well, y/n, it's a little complicated, I will be honest but if you come with me now and trust me on this-"

"Why the fuck does every keep on asking me to trust them? What is going on? Either let me die in peace or let me leave this palace! I cannot take this anymore. And, for the love of God, would you tell me if Minho is okay or not?"

"He's alive." Hyunjin sighs, " Everyone thinks he committed suicide last night. The city is mourning the death of their crown prince. "

You're confused, "But he's alive, right?"

Hyunjin manages a smile, "Yes, he's alive. He staged his death and is waiting for you by the river bank. "

You jump out of the bed at once, heart pounding against your chest.

"Take me to him, please."

*

The river bank is the most beautiful place in the city, filled with shops and tourists and traders and singers and life. It's beautiful. Unlike your room in the brothel, which was as lifeless as anything could get.

The only one who made that room lively was Minho.

Minho who taught you to play cards, Minho who once beat up a customer because he was harassing you, Minho who promised he'd give anything to get you out of that hell hole.

Minho who loved you.

Now, Minho stands by a boat, wearing a straw hat and gripping his sword tightly. Taylor stands beside him, a brown package in her hands.

And when Minho's eyes meet yours, you run to him as if he'd run away if you didn't, disappear into thin air, leaving you alone in that cold dark room once again.

And oh! Minho is so warm as he wraps you in his embrace. He's warm like the sun on the coldest winter morning, warm like a cup of tea, warm like a freshly baked cookie. He's warm and he's yours.

"What..what is going on?" You sob into his embrace, "Please, will you stay with me? Minho, please?"

Minho is crying too, which is surprising because you've never seen him cry. Upset maybe , but crying never.

Yet here he is crying like a newborn baby, crying because a part of him knows he's managed to save you somehow.

"I'm not leaving okay?" He says, still crying, caressing your cheeks, "We're gonna go far from this city. We're never coming back okay?"

You can only nod as Taylor gently pats your head.

"This is a farewell gift. From me." She smiles at you, handing you the package, "It's a wedding dress that I made. I hope you can wear it when the day comes."

And you're crying again. But this time, you're crying into Taylor's embrace. It's hard leaving behind someone who loved you like a sister.

"We'll write to you. We promise. As soon as we find a proper place to stay, we will write to you both. " Minho says, to Taylor and to his brother.

"Sorry for burdening you with this country. " Minho whispers when Hyunjin hugs him, "I hope you forgive me someday."

"Bullshit. Really, I've always wanted to kill you and get this crown for myself. You only made my job easier." Hyunjin jokes, patting Minho's back.

Minho chuckles. The boatman catches his eye and points to the sun.

"We should get going now, y/n. They'll be holding a prayer in the afternoon and we cannot risk anyone seeing us before we leave."

You nod, kissing Taylor's head softly, holding her gift close to your chest.

"Do visit us sometime." You say to both of them and they nod in unison.

Minho helps you on the boat and hands a few coins to the boatman.

The soft current of the river pushes your boat farther away from the shore, Taylor and Hyunjin wave goodbye to you. You feel horrible leaving behind the city of your birth. You feel empty and cold.

But Minho wraps his arms around you and the coldness vanishes. Minho is warm, and from now on, he's only yours.

*

4 years later.

"Your baby is fucking killing me, Minho." You groan as you get up from the sofa in your bakery.

You'd been sitting and munching on cookies for way too long perhaps.

"Hey, don't curse in front of the baby." He hushes you, caressing your bump. You feel the baby kick again.

You both laugh.

"Come on." He takes you by the hand and drags you to the sofa once again, ignoring all your protests.

Ever since you'd entered the seventh month of your pregnancy, Minho refused to let you do any work. And by any, you meant any work that involved physical activity.

In the mornings, he forced you to watch him sweep the floors whilst you made him breakfast. In the afternoons, he forced you to sit at the cash counter of your bakery and watch him bake stuff tirelessly while you interacted with the customers.

In the evening, he gives you snacks while he cleans up the bakery for tomorrow.

In the night, he holds you close while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

It was a routine but you'd come to love this routine.

You wouldn't trade it for the world.

"What are you thinking?" He pulls you closer and plants a kiss on your lips.

"Just something. " You reply, embarrassed.

"Tell me, love. What is it?"

And how could you ever say 'no' to him if he used that tone on you?

"Well, I was thinking," you mindlessly fiddle with his fingers, "Do you ever regret giving up the throne for me? I mean, you're royalty. And here you are washing dishes and baking cookies every day. You could have lived a lavish life, you know."

You sound sad, guilty even.

Minho chuckles at you. But doesn't say anything.

Instead, he pulls your face closer and kisses you. Passionately. Softly. Lovingly.

When he pulls away, you feel breathless.

"Does that answer your question?" His sincere eyes look into yours, his hands on your belly, "I wouldn't trade this for the world."

You pull him back in for a kiss because that's all you'd ever wanted to hear.

And because Minho is warm and he smells like cookies and he's yours.

[sparklingchan]

A Duel of Hearts || Kim Seungmin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Seungmin Word Count: 5k+ Warnings: Suggestive, strong language(ig), mention of suicide (not the main characters). Genre: Royal AU, Friends to Lovers, Dark Academia, Angst mixed with fluff. Description: Caught in a dilemma of affection, Kim Seungmin, a prince, finds himself drawn to you. There was but one obstacle to his pursuit —you've set a single condition for all potential suitors: no royal lineage. A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. Idk why but Seungmin has this Dark Academia kind of vibe so I tried to incorporate that here. Hope you guys like it! More to come<3 Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated) Here's the link.

You like to believe that your new dorm room is starting to grow on you.

It wasn't anything like your room back in your parents' house of course; but over the past twelve months, you'd renovated your dorm room enough to feel at home.

You'd replaced the light blue curtains with grey ones, swapped the single candle stand with a lantern to help you study better at night, put on a white table cloth and the list goes on.

A knock on your door pulls your attention.

It must be Wendy, you think to yourself, walking toward the door.

Correction: your only friend Wendy.

"Gosh, I really hate this academy, y/n." She walks in complaining, "I cannot believe they gave me a B in geography. I love geography. I cannot believe they'd ruin my overall grade like that."

"What happened?" You ask, closing the door behind her.

"I don't know! I will deal with this later, anyway," she says, fishing out a note from the pocket of her blazer. "I'm here to discuss a more pressing matter."

"What's that?"

"Of course, it's one of your lovers, y/n. I have two more lover letters in my backpack. Do you need them?"

You half chuckle and half sigh, taking the note from her and tearing it into bits.

"Ouch." Wendy says, staring at you, "Tell me y/n, it's been over a year since you joined the academy. All the boys here would die to even see you across the hallway yet you've kept the door to your heart locked. Why?"

"I am not not open to having a relationship. I just dislike how most of these men who pursue me are of royal blood. And if there's anything I despise most is royalty. That letter you gave me right now? It was from the Duke's son. It's his third letter in a row. That boy just doesn't know when to stop." You press your hand to your forehead, stressed.

Wendy nods her head, "Yeah, he is an annoying brat, I'll give you that, but y/n, I really don't understand your dislike towards royalty? Any girl out there would love to be pursued by royal suitors, including myself."

You smile in response, "It's a secret."

As always, Wendy just chuckles and doesn't push you to answer further because really, you don't know what you'll do if you ever have to explain yourself. It's a secret you rarely even discuss with yourself.

"Come on, we'll be late for our afternoon class." You say and walk towards the door, already tired of the day ahead of you.

*

“But Professor, do you not think that the first king of Taru was a horrible person morally? I mean, he did kill all of his wives when they failed to birth a son.”

If there is anyone in this academy who you think hates you to the core is your History Professor. The amount of times you’d ask him a question and he’d reply very vaguely, never answering to the point was insane. So naturally, you had developed a habit of asking him odd questions just to spite him.

Your Professor looks at you, almost angrily, and answers, “We are no one to judge a historical figure. Miss y/n.”

“But sir, you are portraying him as a role model to the class. Don’t you think that’s wrong? As you said, we are no one to judge him.”

Your professor hisses through gritted teeth and turns towards the board, not bothering to answer you. A subtle smile finds your lips.

“So, class as I was saying. The first King of this country- Taru- built the longest bridge in -”

“Excuse me, sir?” A hand shoots up from among the students followed by a voice, “May I answer Miss y/n’s question please?”

Your professor rubs his temple and sighs, nodding, “Go ahead, Mister Seungmin.”

You turn your head up to look at the owner of the voice, and much to your surprise, it is Kim Seungmin. He’s one of the quieter kids in the class but you’ve worked on a few projects together so you know that there’s more depth to him than just being the quiet kid by the window seat.

“Y/n, I think we could still look up to the King as a leader. Yes, he was ruthless to his wives but we don’t need to look up to him as a husband. He was, on the other hand, a great leader who led his country to become one of the greatest in the world, second to none.”

“Well, does that answer your question?” The professor asks and you nod, bowing towards Seungmin. He bows back.

The professor teaches the class for an hour more, letting you guys dismiss after his daily warning of, “You'll be going to universities next year so do work hard this year,”

You gather all your things and walk out of the class, stomach growling, almost begging you to make your way to the dining area for lunch.

For lunch, the menu rarely changes except on holidays.

And in all honesty, you’re tired of having chicken stew with rice everyday since you stepped foot in this academy, but the other options are extremely limited so you join the line of hungry and tired students, complaining about how difficult this year has been.

Once you have your plate of rice and stew, you seat on one of the empty benches and begin to gobble up the rice like there’s no tomorrow.

“Um, y/n? Mind if I join you?”

“Seungmin?” you ask, almost surprised, “Have a seat, please.”

Seungmin mutters a small ‘thanks’ and claims the seat in front of you, placing his backpack on the sides.

“So what have you been up to?” he asks to break the ice. It seems like you’re more focused on the rice in front of you than him.

“Eating?” you chuckle, “What’s up with you? How’s your preparation for University?”

Seungmin, licks his bottom lip, deep in thought.

How was his preparation for university going, really? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t even remember the last time he opened his books after school.

In fact, lately, his mind has been occupied with something entirely different-you.

You, who acts so indifferent to the rest of the people yet helped Seungmin when he was almost failing a chemistry project evaluation.

You, who says she has no friends yet packs extra food from home for Wendy.

You, who says she is having a hard time adjusting to the academy yet she’s his favorite person here.

How could you not be on his mind?

“Eh, it’s okay. I guess.” Seungmin scratches the back of his head. “How’s yours?”

“Not really well, to be honest . If only that duke’s son would stop sending me those stupid letters, my life would be a lot more peaceful.” you say and it’s true that those letter have been nothing short of a nuisance since you came back from the semester break. You respect his feelings, but you’re not obligated to like him back. Hell, you’ve never even spoken to the man. “He’s so persistent, it scares me, really.”

Seungmin could feel his anger building up. Of course he knows you have quite a few admirers. Even some of his friends are in that crowd. But Seungmin likes to think he always had the upper hand.

Yet he feels annoyed, offended at the thought that someone was pursuing you to the point of fear.

“He might be a duke’s son but he isn’t behaving like one.” Seungmin comments.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. All of these aristocrats and royals believe that the world is at their disposal. They could just command it and everything would go according to them. It’s ridiculous. I’m so glad you’re not from a royal line or else we wouldn’t have been having this conversation.” you say and Seungmin’s world stands still.

You think he’s not from a royal family?

You didn’t know who he really was?

He almost wants to tell you the truth, that he, in fact, is the descendant of the very king you were talking about in History today. But he chooses to remain silent. He’s enjoying your company way too much to ruin it in one day.

“Yeah, thank god for that.” Prince Seungmin replies.

*

The next few days pass by in the blink of an eye and the academic pressure gets worse.

"Wendy, could I borrow your lantern? Mine is broken, I think." You ask Wendy one afternoon.

The sun brightens up the inside of Wendy's room.

"Yeah, sure." She passes you her lantern, "I have a spare one. Going to the library?"

You nod.

There's no better place to study than the library. Especially on such a warm and cozy afternoon when everyone just wants to take a nap.

"I'll see you at dinner then?"

"Sure thing."

You walk the corridors, fiddling with your pockets, making sure you'd taken all your stationary. It would be a hassle to walk back to your room again.

As soon as you enter the library, the sounds of the world as if disappear. Not even the tapping of pens could be heard without focusing hard.

You find a suitable seat for yourself by the window and settle down there.

The library feels colder than your room and you're grateful for it. At least you wouldn't be sleepy now.

"Someone's working hard, I see." A teasing voice whispers from behind, "May I join you?"

Seungmin’s voice, much to your surprise, brings a smile to your face.

"Sure." You say, shy like a kid in kindergarten.

He claims the seat across you, setting his books and stationary on the table.

And for the next three hours, the only sound you hear from his side is that of his breathing. Even and steady.

He's busy reading a book and his eyes are focused on the pages, never once wavering anywhere else.

He's quite sincere, you realize.

The sun sets and the students light up their lanterns and immediately go back to studying. Seungmin glances at you for a second, his lips curving into a soft smile. You smile back, albeit shyly.

Hours pass by and you know it's almost time for dinner because your stomach is growling. Louder than ever.

"Y/n," Seungmin speaks to you, putting his book down, "Want to have some warm Noodles? There's a new stall in town which sells delicious noodles."

You contemplate for a second before agreeing with a smile.

"Noodles sound amazing right now."

The both of you pick up your lanterns and walk out the main gate into the streets of the town.

While the town is busy and bustling with activities during the day, at nightfall the town comes to a standstill. Something you've always liked.

"It's not in the market square, I presume." You say as Seungmin navigates through the lanes of the market.

"No," He replies, "But it is quite near to the market."

After a five minute walk from the market square, you finally see an old bamboo hut in the distance, dim and quiet.

But the moment Seungmin and you are seated on one of the wooden benches, you're as if in a trance. The aroma of herbs and spices and chicken broth is nothing like you'd ever felt before.

"Grandma, we'll have two bowls of noodles with a side of Kimchi, please." Seungmin says.

"Sure thing, son." The woman replies with a twinkle in her eyes.

"You're a regular here. " You say to Seungmin, looking around the interiors of the stall. "It's cozy and the noodles smell amazing already."

"Oh, y/n, wait till you taste them. It'll be like nothing you'd ever had before."

And true to his words, the moment you eat those noodles, flavors burst in your mouth.

It is a perfect blend of sweet and salty, but the black pepper adds the perfect spice to the combination of flavors.

"Seungmin, this is amazing!" You say, taking a second bite. "We have to come back here again!"

He can only chuckle at your reaction. If you'd say the word, he'd bring you to this place everyday. Without fail.

The two of you eat quietly, only sharing a glance of amazement once in a while.

"I'll pay, y/n." Seungmin offers once you guys are done eating, bellies full.

"No! Let me pay." You get up immediately and walk up to the old lady.

Seungmin can only shake his head at you.

"How much will that be, grandma?" You ask, taking out your purse.

"Oh, its on the house today. " the lady says, much to your surprise, "Master Seungmin brought his girlfriend out for a date at our place. I couldn't take money from you today."

Seungmin and you stare at each other, wide eyed and speechless and hearts racing.

"Grandma! She's not my girlfriend! We're classmates." Seungmin says, the tip of his ears bright red.

You nod, shyly, "There's nothing of that sort going on between us!"

Grandma smiles as she pours soup into a bowl, "Well, not yet maybe. I have an eye for things like that, you see."

When you exit the hut, Seungmin remains quite, his lips pursed in a line. It's truly endearing to see him flustered like that.

"Well, that was awkward." You say, trying to lighten up the mood.

Seungmin nods, rubbing the back of his head, "Sorry about that. I don't know why she'd say that."

"No, no, it's okay. She's an adorable woman." You say.

The rest of the walk passes by in silence.

For some reason, you always find yourself in these silent moments with Seungmin. But you like the silence. It's calming, not uncomfortable.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks as the two of you reach the entrance of your dorm building.

You nod. You're about to turn around when he pulls you in for a gentle embrace.

Your heart stops. Your breathing stops. The earth stops.

Without even meaning to, you find yourself melting into the embrace.

The next second, Seungmin pulls back and walks towards his dorm, not even saying a word.

And you're standing there, mouth hanging open.

What are these nervous sensations Seungmin is making you feel?

*

"So why were you not at dinner yesterday?" Wendy asks the next morning, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, "Were you with a boy?"

You try to calm the heat spreading to your cheeks, "Kind of. But it wasn't anything like what you think. I swear. We were studying together and then he asked if I wanted to try a new food stall in town. That's all."

And then he hugged you Goodnight. And you haven't been able to forget the way his body felt against yours.

"And who exactly is 'we'?" Wendy asks again, the tone of suspiciousness still present in her words.

"Seungmin and I." You say.

Wendy stares at you, flabbergasted.

Seungmin and you?

You went out on a supposed platonic date with a Prince?

"Y/n, Seungmin is-" Wendy's words are cut off by the ringing of the hourly bell, indicating that your classes are about to begin.

"Wendy, I'll tell you all about it. Promise. See you later." You say and disappear into the crowd of hurrying students but Wendy doesn't move.

Wendy has a different plan in her mind. Something she considers more important than attending boring lectures.

*

"Kim Seungmin, can I see you for a second?" Wendy drags Seungmin by his arm the moment he steps out of his dorm building.

He stares at her, confused.

He didn't have a class yet; he was just stepping out to get some breakfast. Where was she dragging him early in the morning?

"What's wrong?" He asks.

Wendy and him have never even talked with each other before so why this sudden interest?

Wendy stands in front of him, eyes full of doubt. Her hands rest on her hips.

"Are you trying to mess with y/n?" She asks flatly.

Seungmin is taken aback, "What? No! Of course not!"

Why would she even think that? Seungmin almost feels angry.

"Then why are you hanging out with her late at night and why is she oblivious to you being of royal blood?"

Seungmin sighs, "Okay, Wendy, listen. I'm not trying to mess with her or anything. But its true I haven't told her about my family yet. And I will tell her. But I just want her to know me for me. Before she starts to dislike me just because I'm of royal blood. Do you think I'm wrong?"

Wendy thinks for a second before replying, "Well, you don't mean any harm. But...I think you should tell her about yourself. I mean if you're trying to get her to like you back, might as well be honest about your life."

Seungmin’s eyes are wide with shock. How did she even know about Seungmin’s crush on you? Did one of his friends spread the rumor? Did she try to spy on him?

"Hey, don't look so surprised, your majesty." sarcasm drips from her words, "Everyone here knows you like her. We have eyes, you know?"

Seungmin doesn't reply, embarrassed. Of course it is hot gossip when a prince falls in love, isn't it?

People have written sagas and books and poems about it. What is a little academy gossip compared to that?

*

You find out Seungmin hanging out with a female friend the a few days later during lunch, and you try to shake off an uncomfortable feeling.

"Seungmin, could I speak to you for a second?"

The girl looks at you, from head to toe and nods her head. "Hey, she's quite pretty, Seungmin."

Seungmin sighs, "Oh, shut up, Sojong. Don't you have a class?"

His ears are red again, like how they were back at the noodles shop.

"I'm going now anyways. Bye sweethearts!" The girl walks off with a smile, and you're left confused.

"Don't mind her. She's my cousin. An idiot cousin, if I may add."

It feels as if a weight is lifted off of your chest. Your lips automatically curve into a smile.

"I didn't know you had a cousin in the academy."

"Yeah, well. Now you do. So what's going on?" He replies.

"Um.. did Wendy say something to you a few days ago? About you going to the noodles stall with me?"

Seungmin chuckles, "Oh yeah. But it's alright. She's your friend. I get that she's quite protective of you."

You smile, "Thanks for understanding. But , umm...Seungmin, she also might have implied that you kind of want to go out with me."

Seungmin’s soul almost leaves his body. Wendy could not have shut up about it, could she? Now you probably think Seungmin is some kind of creep trying to get into your pants.

"Hey, it's okay. Wendy always exaggerates everything and she wants me to get a boyfriend desperately so I understand if you didn't say anything of that sort to her. She's not very good at conveying messages." You say.

"But I did." Seungmin says, mustering all his courage, "I did say that. To her. And it's totally okay if you don't feel the same way about me. I really do. "

You almost feel like laughing.

You haven't been able to get him out of your mind for the past few days. And he thinks you don't like him?

The both of you had been busy with different classes and tests and projects. The few glances and greetings you shared with him during lunch would become the highlight of your day. And he thinks you wouldn't want to go out with him?

Impossible.

"I do, though. I'm open to the idea of going out with you."

Seungmin was not prepared for that answer. He was sure he'd get rejected, but here you were, looking all shy and sweet while confessing to liking him back?

"Um..so how about tomorrow night? There's a nice restaurant with live music and all. I could book us a table there."

You try to supress the grin that is trying to claw its way onto your face.

"Sounds great. See you then."

"Yeah, see you." He replies, heart hammering hard against his chest.

*

The night finally comes and you find Seungmin standing just outside of your dorm building.

He wears a black long coat and pants, paired with a high collared white shirt and a rose in his hands.

Your legs feel weak the moment your eyes meet. And the gravity of the situation finally dawns on you.

By tonight, Kim Seungmin might become your boyfriend. He's handsome, intelligent and funny, yet he decides to go out on a date with you?

Why? How did the two of you even end up here?

On the other hand, Seungmin feels like he'd been hit by the cupid's arrow. The only thing he can think about as you make your way towards him is how beautiful that long, pink dress looks on you and how he couldn't wait to make you his.

"For the beautiful lady." He says, offering you the red rose.

Shyly, you take the rose.

"Shall we?" He asks, gently taking your hand. Your hand feels warm.

"Yes." You reply, intertwining your fingers with his.

Oh, how beautiful it feels.

To be able to walk hand in hand with the man you admired so much. It feels natural. Like this is how the two of you were always meant to be. Maybe if Wendy had never told you about how Seungmin felt about you, you'd have never made the effort to ask him if he ever saw you in a non-platonic way.

But you're glad everything that happened happened. You're not someone who liked to live with what-ifs.

The restaurant he'd booked just adds to the beauty of this evening. The ambience is nice and a musician plays a beautiful melody on the piano, matching to the aesthetic of the place.

"I had booked a table for two by the name of Kim Seungmin. "

The waiter takes you to your place, a large candle adorning the center of the table.

You take your seats and the waiter takes your order and leaves.

Seungmin gets a hold of your hand again, intertwining your fingers.

"I can't believe we're actually out on a date." He chuckles, tracing his thumb across the back of your palm.

"I can't either. It's surreal." You say, "But I love it. I love being here with you."

Seungmin nods, "I love being anywhere, as long as you're with me."

"Didn't know Kim Seungmin was such a flirt, huh." You laugh, your cheeks heating up.

"Oh, you're in for a long ride, baby girl." He says, pressing his lips softly against your fingers.

Goosebumps.

Indeed, you were in for a long ride.

*

That night, the two of you walk back to the academy campus in silence.

A silence that is so calming and so comforting, it feels almost like a soothing hug from Seungmin.

When you two reach the main entrance of your dorm, Seungmin pulls you in for a hug again.

And just like last time, you melt into his arms.

He smells like smoke and mint and comfort.

"I had a great time, y/n." He whispers, pulling away but keeping your faces close.

He put strands of your hair behind your ears, so soft and tender.

"I did, too." You reply, your hands gently settling on his cheeks.

"Can I kiss you, y/n, please?" Seungmin asks, almost pleads. Like kissing you is what would keep him alive from that day on, like kissing you would fill his lungs with oxygen, like kissing you is the drug that he just cannot quit.

And you can only nod before he crashes his lips onto yours.

And yet again, he's gentle and tender and you sigh into his mouth when he pulls you closer.

He tastes like the tiramisu you had back in the restaurant, sweet and like strawberries.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." He says when you pull back, breathing heavy. His eyes are shy with a sense of pride in them. He couldn't believe that the girl he'd been crushing on since last year was finally his. He couldn't believe his luck.

And neither could you.

"Yeah, see you!" You say and kiss his lips once again before jogging into the dorm building.

Seungmin goes to sleep that night dreaming of you and wakes up yearning for you in the morning.

And the cycle repeats every day, for the next 2 months.

The two of you had become inseparable, spending every possible moment with each other.

Whenever your schedules would not let you spend a lot of time together, the two of would make sure to have at least one meal together. That single meal would be the highlight of both of your days.

But the final exams loom over you like an ominous grey cloud.

"So, as you already know, our country neighbors multiple other countries, each with their own king and set of rules. I want you all to remember the names of all current kings and all new rules they had added to their country during their tenure. " the history teacher was going on and on, "Remember, you only have a month left for your finals. That final grade would determine the trajectory of your lives. Study well."

And he finishes off with that threat.

You were so busy jotting down notes during the class that you didn't notice Seungmin's absence from the day's class.

You'd been late this morning and didn't have time to even have breakfast before coming to class. Naturally, you'd assumed he'd been in the class.

"I don't see your boyfriend today, y/n." Wendy says after class, as if reading your mind.

"Yeah, I've been wondering the same thing." You say, absently, stuffing your books back in your bag.

Wendy tags along with her other friends for lunch and you excuse yourself, making your way towards Seungmin’s dorm building.

You'd been to his room multiple times now, yet everytime you're surprised by how neat it is. The books are neatly lined up on the shelf, the blankets are folded on the bed and his shoes are neatly stacked by the corner of his cupboard.

"Missed you at class today." You say to Seungmin, whose eyes widen with excitement when he sees you enter the room.

"Yeah, I spent nearly three hours solving a problem last night, I didn't wake up on time." He says, patting the space near him on the bed.

You sit beside him, "Can we study together at night? I need your help."

He agrees immediately, pecking your cheek.

"In fact, we could go to the library right now, what say?" He asks.

"Did you forget, Seungmin? We have a field trip today. In the second half. We're supposed to assemble at the playground after lunch."

Seungmin chuckles, "Yeah. A field trip to the old fort of Taru. Almost forgot about it."

Something he'd been dreading for weeks now.

When it was announced that the final year students would be going on a field trip, he was excited in the beginning.

But when he found out the location of the said trip, he was devastated. The old fort of Taru was his ancestral home. His grandfather and great-grand father and great-great grandfather fought multiple wars and ruled the country from that fort and when they passed away, Seungmin’s father had shifted his family to a new palace just outside the city, deciding to turn the old fort into a museum for tourists.

Seungmin didn't dislike the old fort. In fact, he loved visiting that place . Every year, he'd look forward to visiting the old fort to pay homage to his forefathers during special festivals that only the Royal family celebrated.

Yet, he was dreading today's trip. Because at the entrance of the new museum, stands a tall painting of him and his family, welcoming tourists to their ancestral home.

And if you see the painting, his façade is going to disappear and you'll know his identity and that would be the end of his beautiful daydream.

But when you pull him by his collar and kiss him with so much love, he cannot help but wish for this dream to last forever.

*

When the time finally comes to board the horse carriages that would take the students to the fort, Seungmin starts rethinking every single choice of his till date. He knew he was hurting you, he knew you would be devasted to find out who he really is. But he would die if had to lose you.

And his greatest fears come to life the moment he sets foot out of that damned carriage.

Wendy, with her hand on your shoulder, stands near the fort entrance. You'd reached the fort earlier since the girls were sent off earlier. And Seungmin wishes they hadn't been.

You look confused, sad, eyebrows furrowed in exasperation.

When Wendy sees Seungmin, her eyes widen. "She knows." She mouths at him.

Seungmin swallows the lump in his throat, "Y/n, I swear..I swear I didn't do it to deceive you. I really like you and hell, I even love you. Please. Hear me out."

You don't say a word and stare at him with a piercing gaze.

"Y/n, please. I don't know why you hate Royal families but I promise you, I'm not as bad as you think they are. You know me, y/n. I'm your Seungmin!" He insists, trying to hold your hand.

But you pull away.

"You lied to me. You're no better than them." You say, almost a whisper, "Forget about what happened between us. It's over now."

And with that, the love of Seungmin’s life walks out of his life, leaving him in shambles.

*

You'd not slept properly for a week now and even stopped attending any classes. You had buried yourself in your books, revising every single page of every single book for as many times as you could.

The only time you did step out of your room was during lunch and dinner and even then, you made sure to avoid him at all costs.

It had been dreadful, really. You thought it would be easier for you to move on and forget the past few months if you kept reminding yourself of Seungmin’s lies, but it only made you miss him more.

He lied, yes; but he also made you fall in love with him, which was worse. Falling in love and dreaming of a family with Seungmin was never on your cards, you were sure you'd always marry the person your parents would have chosen for you. But here you were. Heartbroken and infatuated; both by the same person.

And today is no different from other days, or so you thought.

At around half past midnight, you hear a knock on your door. Wendy had gone home for a week and would be back tomorrow, so you are genuinely curious as to who would knock on your door at such an ungodly hour.

When you open the door, you see those eyes again- the black orbs that you'd fallen so deeply for.

"Y/n, do you have a minute? Please?" Seungmin pleads when you freeze at the sight of him.

"No. I'm afraid not." You reply, your heart hammering against your chest. The tightness in your throat does not help.

"Please, y/n. I beg you, please."

Across the hallway, a few girls pop their heads out of their doors, wondering where the male voice is from.

Sensing no other option, you pull Seungmin inside your room reluctantly.

"Fine. Say what you have to and then leave." You mutter.

You're doing everything in your power to avoid any sort of eye contact with him because you know that is what your weakness is.

He sits at the edge of your bed, while you sit in your chair, across the room.

"Y/n, you don't have to take me back. But I want you to know that I never meant to deceive you. It is pure, genuine love that I feel for you. I know you hate me because I'm of royal blood but ignoring that part, you did like me, didn't you? Before you even knew about my family. I'm still that person. I may be a prince but that is not all I am."

Your throat gets tighter and your eyes mist over with tears.

"It doesn't matter. Our relationship started from a lie. And as a matter of fact, I cannot ignore that you're a prince. I had one condition for all suitors and I cannot withdraw it for anyone."

Seungmin swallows, his eyes bloodshot, "Can you at least tell me why you hate Royal blood so much? What did they ever do to you?"

You scoff, "You really wanna know, huh? Does it still matter now? Because I'm never going to get back together with you, Seungmin."

"I want to know."

And so you tell him.

"I hate royals so much because I am one of them. I am a princess. A forgotten one, but the blood of royalty still courses through my veins."

You were a little girl of around four when your now parents had adopted you, more or less. You didn't know who they were or why they were taking you away from your mother and father- the king and queen of Nabha- a country neighboring Taru. You only remember crying till your head hurt. You remember your birth mother crying, standing at the gates of the castle while her emerald crown fell at her feet.

When you turned twelve, your adoptive parents told you the truth of your adoption.

Your adoptive mother worked in the Royal Palace as a governess for royal children while your adoptive father worked as a royal architect. They'd both met in the palace and fell in love, eventually married. You were born to the queen and king a year later. Everything was going well.

But as all stories go, yours had a villain too. Your own birth father- the king. He was the worst kind of person. He was cruel, unjust, abusive and hated you because you were a girl. He had prayed to every God known to mankind for a son, only for him to receive a daughter in return. But he refused to crown you the heir. For the next few years, the king traveled to all neighboring countries , looking for some solution to his problem. And then he found it. An oracle that told him to disown his first born daughter, in order to be blessed with a son.

When the king arranged for your adoption, he didn't even bother consulting his wife. One morning, you were in her arms and the next, you were being taken away to Taru by your adoptive parents.

The Queen killed herself the next morning.

"And that was the day I promised two things to myself: First, I would never set foot back in that country. I made Taru, your country my home. Second, I would never marry a man of royal ancestry. Because I know, no matter what happens, I never want to be associated with royals ever again. Betrayal is all we'll receive at the end under the pretense of a greater good."

Seungmin is speechless at this point. He thought your dislike towards royal lineage was just a matter of preference but now, he understands you. Truly. He understands why you'd take his lies as a sign of betrayal.

"Y/n, I-"

"Save it. You have your answers and I have mine. Leave."

He walks out of the room without a word and the moment you lock the door behind him, he falls on his knees, crying. His heart aches for you. For everything you'd been through and for everything he put you through. He cries for you.

But little does he know, behind the closed door, you're on your knees too, sobbing into your hands. Every single fiber of your being begged you to stop him and you chose to ignore it.

You wonder if you'll ever be able to hate Seungmin like you wish you did.

*

Wendy is lecturing you again this morning, her face tense.

"Y/n, we're leaving this academy forever tomorrow. Can you please give yourself the closure you deserve? Just go and talk to Seungmin. You don't have to hate his guts forever. "

The final exam results are out today, which means that your parents would be coming to pick you up tomorrow evening. You'd be leaving this place and all the bitter-sweet memories associated with it forever. It hurts you a little.

But you had to be strong.

"I've got my closure, Wendy. I promise. Can we talk about something else now?"

Wendy sighs, "Y/n, if this is what you want, then I shall support you. But know that I genuinely will always believe that you and Seungmin were meant to be. Even if you get married and have ten kids with someone else!"

For the first time in months, you allow yourself to laugh at Wendy's stupid statements. She joins in too.

But her words stick with you throughout the day.

That night, after you're done packing most of your stuff, you crash on your bed, a thousand thoughts circling your head.

I genuinely will always believe that you and Seungmin were meant to be. Even if you get married and have kids with someone else!

Even the thought of marrying another man and having his kids nauseated you. Are you really ready to let go of Seungmin, forever?

You had spent a long time trying to forget Prince Kim Seungmin, his voice, his words, his touch, but had you really succeeded?

After today, you might never see him again. Are you ready to live with that regret forever?

The answer to all these questions is no. You are not someone to live wondering the what-ifs.

So you jump out of the bed, lantern in hand and run towards Seungmin’s dorm.

*

"Y/n, did you come here by mistake?" Is his first reaction when he opens his door, hair messy and eyes alert.

You shake your head, "No. I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

He let's you in.

"So, what's up?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks nervous. Like the first time he had taken you out for dinner to grandma's noodle shop.

"I've been thinking. About you and about us. And I.. I'm scared. I will not lie. I do not trust royals, but for some reason, I trust you. I know that there’s a thousand things that could go wrong but I still want to be with you. If you'll have me again"

Seungmin is dumbfounded. Literally. How does one even respond to things like these?

"Seungmin, say something!" You insist.

He forces the words out of his mouth, "I'm g-glad you feel that way."

You scowl, hands on your hips.

"I bare my heart open to you and this is all you have to say? Really? Listen, if you've found someone else in these few weeks then I understand, I really do but please at least-"

He kisses you. He kisses you so beautifully, it pains you to even think that you were willing to give up this. And for what? A horrible father who coincidentally was also of royal blood?

His tongue nudges at your tongue playfully, while his hands are cupping your face, thumbs circling your skin in comfort.

You'd never felt so much peace.

When you pull away, he gently presses his forehead onto yours, "I wouldn't dare find someone else. I assure you, whatever prejudices Nabha had, they do not exist here in Taru. I'm not like your birth father and I will never be. I promise. I will do everything in my power to convince you about it."

And for some reason, as usual, you believe him.

You kiss him again, knowing that if you could go back in time, you would not change a thing. You would let Seungmin easily win the duel of your hearts a thousand times over.

[sparklingchan]

Serendipity || Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: Suggestive, mentions of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant) , mentions of poison, Changbin is sweeter than sugar. Set in the Joseon Era.

Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, fluff with very slight angst.

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

A/N: Hello everyone! Back with another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. I am genuinely in love with this one ngl. King Changbin is a rizzler y'all. Hope you guys have fun reading this <3

Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated)

Here's the link to the masterlist.

Being a woman in this country is not an easy task. Especially when one is a candidate for the position of the country's Queen.

You'd dreamt of this for years, the idea sewn into every thought by your father even since you were child. With time, you'd welcomed the thought without a complaint.

"My lady, the Royal messenger is here." Somi informs you, and your nervousness just goes up by a thousand.

Did you manage to become the Queen and make your father proud? Or did you get disqualified and were now just a daughter of some minister and free to marry any other commoner like yourself?

You run down the hallway and enter the pavillion in front of your house, the colorful banners of the Royal entourage shine under the bright sun.

You straighten your robes and kneel down, head almost touching the ground, as a mark of respect for the King's verdict.

The chief Eunuch opens up the scroll in his hands.

"Please find enclosed the Royal Edict from the King's Court:

I, Seo Changbin, the King of Joseon, have chosen Miss y/n of House Kim as my wife and, by extension, the Queen of our beloved country. I have consulted the three High State Councilors and my mother- the Queen Dowager about the same and we have all unanimously agreed that she would be the best choice for the country as well as the Royal family, owing it all to her wits, beauty and manners.

Congratulations to Miss y/n and her family.

The Royal family would also like to extend an invitation to the bride-to-be to shift into the Detached Palace at the earliest as part of the customary pre wedding ritual. "

It feels as if someone had punched out the air from your lungs, you couldn't speak nor stand, while your parents and brother continuously thanked the Royal Eunuch, accepting all the gifts sent by the Palace for you.

But you couldn't move. You just stayed there, frozen. For life as you had known it has come to an end.

And thereafter begins a new, Royal chapter of your life.

*

"I'm going to miss you, my child."

The days since the Edict pass by in a heartbeat. All the members of your family were busy with packing your belongings while you were busy with mentally preparing yourself to leave your family and house behind forever.

Yes, you'd always wanted to be a Queen. Yes, you'd spent years getting ready for this role. Yet when the time finally comes, it hurts you to think about leaving behind twenty three years of your life.

"I'm going to miss you too, mother." On hearing your words, your mother cries harder.

But as usual, your father shows no emotion. His face is calm.

"Remember, y/n, there are no friends in the Palace other than your husband. You cannot confide in anyone but him. The other concubines will do anything to gain his favor, but you shall always be a step ahead. Be vigilant and loyal. You will make a great Queen." He says. Like the strategist he'd always been.

"Yes, father." You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your mother clinges to your arm.

"We will try and visit you whenever we can. I'm sure his Majesty will allow."

"Yes, of course. You can visit me anytime. The Palace is only a few hours from here."

"Oh, my child! How will I ever live without you!" Another sob tears out from your mother's throat. You hug her with all the love and care you could muster up in that moment.

Your father walks out of the room, hands behind his back and face twisted into a frown.

*

The Detached Palace is to be a temporary residence for the bride-to-be. For over the next thirty days, you would be receiving lessons on various subjects like history, Royal Etiquette, sewing, cooking and most importantly- lessons on intimacy. The last lesson is considered most important, according to Somi, since it allows you to birth as many healthy heirs as possible.

After helping you dress up for the night and setting up your bed, your maids take your leave for the night, only Somi remaining by your side.

"Do you think I'll see the King tomorrow? It's queer but I'd like to know what my future husband looks like, at least."

Somi sighs, "I don't think it's allowed, my lady. I believe you can only see his Majesty on your wedding day. A month from now."

You're oddly disappointed. You had dreamt so many nights of seeing the King, holding his hand, being by his side, yet the King in those dreams often never had a face.

Was it wrong to yearn to look at your future husband's face? Just once?

A subtle knock on your door startles the both of you.

"Yes?"

"My lady, the King is here to see you." Your handmaid almost whispers the words through the door.

With unparalleled urgency, Somi helps you straighten your clothes and rushes off towards the door.

"Your majesty." The maids and Somi greet him with the customary bow, while you purse your lips in a line, head hanging in a subtle bow.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It's so loud, you're sure even the King could hear it.

"Please give us some privacy." The King commands.

And you heart beats faster on hearing his voice for the first time. Gentle, yet authoritative, just like you'd dreamt.

When Somi closes the door behind her, you almost regret wishing to see your future husband. The proximity makes you nervous and you could only hope you'd not faint in front of him.

"My lady, you may rise."

You'd almost forgotten you were still bowing to him. You mentally slap yourself.

"Y-yes, your majesty. " your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak, your eyes still on the ground.

You'd prayed for this moment for years, y/n. Why couldn't you just meet his eyes?

As if sensing your inner conflict, the King takes two long strides towards you and hooks his index finger under your chin, sending a chill down your body.

"My lady, please look at me."

And you do.

And he's like everything you'd ever wished for.

Perfect, like a beautifully crafted sculpture.

His soft brown locks, his rosy lips, the subtle mischief in his eyes. Everything is perfect.

"Y-yes, your majesty. Sorry." You mumble.

The king smiles, rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"You may call me Changbin when we're alone."

You nod.

"I just came to ask if you're finding your new residence comfortable. We both shall be busy with lessons tomorrow onwards so I figured tonight would be a good time to visit my bride."

His bride? His bride?

Your legs feel weak.

"I'm finding it extremely comfortable, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality. "

Changbin let's out a low chuckle, leaning towards you. His lips hover inches above yours. And when he speaks, you feel hot air on your lips, "I told you, y/n. Call me Changbin."

You frantically nod.

"Good. Better be careful next time, my bride."

*

When you wake up the next morning, you're sure you'd dreamt everything that happened last night.

But apparently not.

"The King is a dashing young man." Somi teases as she lathers a concoction of herbs into your hair. "You're lucky, my lady. He seems to be a gentleman."

But you are too caught up in your thoughts to reply to her.

Did the king of Joseon really come all the way to the Detached Palace to see you? What if he's disappointed with how you had reacted? But he shouldn't blame you at all.

You had not been expecting anyone yesterday night, especially not him. But he did come to you. And he touched your chin. If you focus hard enough, you could feel his touch lingering in the area.

"My lady?" Somi clicks her fingers in front of your eyes, "Come back to earth. We have to get you ready for the classes today."

Blushing, you reply, "What classes do I have today?"

You had three classes today: Palace etiquette, literature and what Somi insists most important: lessons on reproduction.

While Palace etiquette mostly includes lesson on how to behave with Royal elders, ministers, maids, the King, literature includes important pieces of literature that are important for a woman.

And lastly, the most dreaded time arrived.

The reproduction lessons.

The tutor shows you all sorts of obnoxious hand movements and some drawings of couples in intimate positions. You feel uncomfortable from the beginning till the end.

A woman at least five decades older than you is teaching you about intimacy? Very awkward, to say the least.

But you heave a sigh of relief when the classes end for the day and you make your way to your room in the Detached palace.

"It's just the first day, Somi and I'm already tired to the bone." You say, kicking your shoes off.

"Well, it's going to be a lifetime of time this now, my lady. And you best be prepared for it."

You reply Somi with silence. But her words make you wonder. If this palace life would ever be less tiring someday? Would it even be worth it?

Perhaps not.

But King Changbin 's face flashes in front of your eyes; his sparkling eyes, mischievous grin, his feather like touch- maybe he is what will make everything worth it.

That night, after your maids get your bed ready while Somi is combing your hair, a familiar announcement echoes through the corridors of the Detached Palace.

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

His smiling face peeps through the doors as your maids hurry out of the room. He wears blue silk robes, and you feel weaker in his presence than you did yesterday.

"Did you miss me, y/n?"

And thus begins a month of secret nightly visits by the King of Joseon to the Detached Palace.

Everyday, you wake up looking forward to the time when King Changbin would come knocking at your doors, always up to some jesting.

Sometimes, he brings you fruits you'd mentioned you liked or he tells you stories from his childhood. At other times, he tells you about that one teacher he will hate till the end of time.

But most times, he spends his time listening to you talk- about everything and everyone, about the skies and gods, about ghosts and afterlife, about favourite foods and literature. After you'd overcome the initial shyness, opening upto Changbin was as easy as breathing, almost natural. Of course, you were still nervous around him, but it's a feeling you'd come to like.

Is this what the writers and poets describe as 'butterflies'?

"Do you think I'll make a good Queen?" You ask him one night. He sits in front you on a cushion, across the room, a position you told him is appropriate for two unwed people (although he did not agree to it initially).

If your nightly shenanigans were to be ever discovered by anyone, you would not want to be found in close proximity to each other even though you were betrothed to each other. He's breaking Palace rules everyday as it is.

He hums, "Of course! I think you'll make a great Queen. You're so good at your lessons already."

"That does not guarantee anything. I might not be good at taking the responsibilities."

"Do you trust my judgment, y/n? I think you'll make a great Queen. And even if you are overwhelmed, I shall always be here."

That night he leaves earlier than he usually does, owing to the fact that tomorrow is the day where his concubines are to be welcomed into the palace. Five of them.

The thought leaves you feeling bitter and dejected, but you make sure to not make those feelings obvious. This is a rule for Kings, to take as many concubines as possible to ensure the continuation of the blood line.

"Don't worry, my lady. Your rank in the palace is above these petty concubines. They will not mess with you." Somi comforts your thoughts the next day.

"But what if Changbin favors them more?"

Somi does not reply to that question.

*

On your 18th birthday, your father had promised to you that he would make you the Queen of this country. He kept his promise because here you are, after five years, getting dressed to be married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your father always insisted that powerful men do not love but Changbin's sparkling eyes always contradicted everything your father had taught. Nevertheless, you know the competitiveness among the concubines for the King's affection is mad. More often than not, even the Queen gets involved in petty fights.

But you try to remove all thoughts of your father and the concubines today. Because today, you are to be married to King Changbin. From today, your name will be written in the historical logs of the Royal family. From today, a new life begins.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Somi asks, "You look worried."

"I'm fine. Just hope the ceremony goes well."

The ceremony does go well and in all honesty, you were not worried about the ceremony itself. You were worried about the aftermath.

The maids guide you to your new palace, and get you dressed in white robes for the wedding night. The night when you will finally meet Changbin as his wife. The butterflies swim around in your belly.

The bed is decorated with flower petals and a few candles are lit. Everything is perfect.

"The King is here." One of your ladies in waiting announce and you get up to greet your husband.

The maids leave the room as the doors slide open and Changbin steps in, also dressed in white robes. He looks dashing, but his signature grin is nowhere to be found.

When the doors close behind him, he walks past you to the bed, the scent of liquor evident in his breath.

"Have you been drinking, your majesty?" You ask him, worried by his odd behavior.

What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he even bother to meet your eyes?

"Changbin." He slurs, wrapping the blankets around him, "Call me Changbin."

He turns away from you and is snoring away in no time.

The butterflies in your stomach flutter around before dropping dead.

*

You did not sleep that night. Even though you were sleeping next to the man you love, you felt lonelier than ever.

Many times during the night, you consider walking out of the bed chamber to the servants quarter so you could talk to Somi. But you couldn't do that. Because you were now the Queen of this country and every single step you take will have its repercussions.

When morning comes, Changbin wakes up in a haste and greets you with a subtle nod and walks out of the chamber in long strides.

You well the tears back. It's your first day as Queen and hadn't he always promised to be there when you were overwhelmed? Had he lied? Or was it Changbin's doppelganger who visited you every night in the Detached palace?

Somi comes in a few minutes later with an excited smile on her face.

When she does your hair for the day, she asks, "So, how was the wedding night?"

You want to answer her truthfully - how cold Changbin had been, how he had not even looked at you let alone touch you, how you think he had changed almost overnight. But you see the prying eyes of the other palace maids and swallow your sadness.

"It was perfect. Like everything I'd ever hoped for."

"He was gentle, I hope." She says through a grin, but it feels like someone pouring alcohol on an open wound.

"Yes. He was."

As part of royal customs, the new bride is supposed to visit the senior most female member of the family and greet her. In your case, the member happens to King Changbin's mother.

Somi dresses you in the most exquisite silks and adorns your hair with the most precious flower but you feel nothing at all when everyone compliments you on the way out of your new Queen's palace.

Your mother in law's palace is a little far from the Queen's palace yet it is as beautiful as any other palace. From inside as well as outside.

"Greetings, your majesty. It is nice to meet you." You bow in front of the Queen Dowager.

The woman-not more than sixty years of age- looks at you with a gentle smile.

"Come in, y/n. Please be at ease."

You're seated in front of her on a cushion while the Queen Dowager's maids serve you breakfast.

"I hope your first day here goes well, my child. Our family is thrilled to have you." She says.

"The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. I am honored to be a part of this family." You say.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Changbin is thrilled to have you or not. Probably not.

The mere thought of yesterday's rejection stings.

"Y/n, truth be told, my son is a quite a troubled man. His father was murdered in front of his eyes. He was made the king when he was only 16 years old. It's been 7 years since then, but the burden only gets worse. I hope you, as a Queen and as his wife, can help him lessen these burdens. Can you do that?" The Queen Dowager asks again, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I will do everything I can to help him." If only he'd let you.

"Good, good. I'm glad. And one more thing, y/n, you know as Queen one of your primary duties is to produce an heir for Changbin's throne. I hope you're working on that, yes?"

Heat reaches your cheeks. If only the poor woman knew what her dear son had done last night. If his behavior continues, perhaps it will be long before the Queen Dowager sees the face of a royal grandchild.

"We are trying, your majesty. We will not disappoint you." You reply, sipping tea from your own cup.

"Great! I shall send all types of herbs and tonics to help you conceive as fast as possible. I shall also draw up a chart after consulting the astrologer..." the Queen Dowager's voice fades into the background as your mind drifts off to the nights in the Detached palace, when Changbin would come and spend all his free time with you, against the rules of the palace. At that time, you had been sure that producing an heir would be a beautiful process, not a chore.

But Changbin does not even treat the thought like a chore.

Did he not love you? Did his Royal duties burden him too much?

When you leave the Queen Dowager's palace, you walk past The King's palace. It is as beautiful and majestic as they say. But you wonder if you'll ever be able to set foot in the same.

As if on cue, you see Concubine Jung walking out of the King's palace, her maids behind her. The butterflies in your stomach burn with jealousy.

She has a smirk on her face when she sees you.

"Eun, did you know there's a rumor around the palace that the King refused to sleep with the Queen last night? Sad, isn't it?" Concubine Jung says.

One of her maids giggle and nod, "Of course! How could the Queen even live with this shame?"

You cry yourself to sleep that night, while Somi does everything in her abilities to soothe you.

Needless to say, nothing worked.

*

"My lady, wake up. The King has invited you to breakfast with him." Somi informs one morning, six months after your wedding.

"Tell him I have a bad stomach bug. I cannot go."

You'd be found dead before sharing a meal with him and that obnoxious Concubine Jung. You'd shared enough meals with them already.

The past months, the King had not visited you even once but often you'd see him walking the gardens with Concubine Jung at his side.

After the first few weeks, you had no tears left to shed anymore so when the rumor came in last month that Concubine Jung might be pregnant, your eyes do not water no matter how much you force yourself to cry.

"I do not wish to congratulate them." You say, true and plain.

"My lady, he's invited only you. Not anyone else."

So you agree. As a last attempt to make your marriage work, even if it's just for your own sake.

Somi dresses you in green robes- The King's favorite. You quickly make your way to his palace, as if someone else would take your place if you didn't hurry. It's sad your thoughts had turned so negative in just half a year in the palace.

Your father had told you the King would take in many lovers during his lifetime, and that being Queen is about having power, not being loved.

But you think he didn't warn you enough. He didn't warn you how lonely it would be to sleep on the cold bed every night, how painful it would be to see the King smile at someone else.

Even if you did wish for a child, how could you produce you a child without Changbin?

"Good morning, your majesty." You say to him when you enter his bed chamber. It smells like cinnamon, a smell he'd often carry with himself back when he used to visit you at the Detached palace. Back when you were sure the king had been in love with you.

"Hello, my Queen. Please have a seat."

The butterflies dance around for a split second.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asks, taking a seat in front of you.

"Yes." Lies. "Thank you for inviting me over."

When the maids leave the both of you alone, his demeanor changes.

"Actually, y/n, I had something to talk to you about." He says, casually, as if he hadn't been hurting you everyday for the past few months.

"What is it?" You ask.

He sighs, "It's mother. Ever since that rumor of Concubine Jung being pregnant spread. She wants the first grandchild to be of the Queen."

His words do not faze you, "How can I help you, Changbin?"

He frowns. Since when had your tone become this melancholic?

"Um, so if I have your consent, I'd like to try for a child tomorrow night. We'll see how that goes, yeah?"

"Okay. I will be honored." You say.

You finish up the food quickly and almost slide the doors open when he grabs your arm from behind.

"Y/n, what is it? Did something happen? Are your parents well?"

"My parents are well enough, thank you for asking." You say, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"Then? What happened? Is it Concubine Jung? Really, you did not have to be jealous of her. She's not pregnant. I can assure you of that. I have not consummated my marriage with any one of the concubines."

His words seem to have an effect on you. Your heart blossoms with hope but you keep your face and voice neutral.

"I am not jealous, Changbin. If one of the concubines get pregnant, I shall wish you both well."

You force your arm out of his grip and walk out the palace, not looking back once.

Changbin's stares at your leaving figure, now worried beyond relief that he might have broken the one person he cared for the most by his pursuits of a greater good.

*

While the past few months for you had been filled with loneliness, for Changbin it was almost the same-if not worse.

The first night of your marriage was filled with as many butterflies for him, as it was for you.

He had fallen in love with you and he wasn't afraid to show the world how much you meant to him. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. And he had all plans to do that on the first night.

But that was until he had overheard a secret conversation between Concubine Jung and her father- Minister Jung.

For all he knew, Minister Jung had always wanted his daughter to be the Queen but being the dim-wit that she was, Concubine Jung could not even get through the first stage.

"Father, it's been two days since I'd been in the palace and that man has not visited me once. He had not even asked for my name the day of the welcoming. What kind of man is he? And you say I am to be Queen!"

"Hush, child. In this palace, even the walls are listening. Be careful. And as far as the position of Queen is concerned, you need not worry. If the King does bed the Queen tonight and she get pregnant, we shall make sure her pregnancy terminates before maturity. I have connections with all sorts of medicine vendors in the country, be assured, she shall never see the face of a child. After we weaken the Queen, we can take her throne as easily!"

Changbin had wanted to laugh at the man's foolish plans but deep down, he was worried as well. For you.

Which is why he pushed you away for so long and kept Concubine Jung close. While she tried everything in her power to seduce him, he refused her under the pretense of keeping an oath of abstinence for a year.

Every time she tried to even hold his hand, Changbin thought of you; your innocent eyes, your talks, your wit, your hands, your beautiful hair. No woman could make him feel like you do.

Changbin's secret informants had confirmed that Minister Jung had not one but two houses full of gold and cash he'd collected as illegal taxes from the local people. He'd also sometimes force husbands to send their wives to him in exchange for money. Even the thought nauseated Changbin.

Every time Concubine Jung visited, he made sure to collect some sort of evidence through her. He even visited her every night and while she snored away, he stole some of her gold jewlery and clothes to get them checked as evidence of the illegal taxes her father had been collecting.

And sure enough, after a few months of spying on her and her father, Changbin had gathered enough evidence by now to expose both of them at the court.

But he realised quickly that Minister Jung had a few tricks up his sleeves as well. The rumor of his daughter's pregnancy would make it difficult for Changbin to expose him easily, and so Changbin waited every night that the rumors would die down so he could run to the Queen's Palace and hug you with all his might. You were not safe unless the father and daughter were deposed.

And for some selfish reasons, Changbin had hoped you'd understand the reason behind his distance. But no woman could find a logical reason behind her lover being absent and it was horribly wrong for him to expect you to do the same.

"Are you stupid?" His friend, the eccentric dancer Minho had asked him.

Changbin had told him how coldly you'd behaved this afternoon when he'd asked you if you wished to try for a child. Most women would giggle and blush. But you were like a statue.

"You push her away for months and make her feel lonely and not loved and what not and you have the audacity to ask her that?"

"Well, yes. Mother had been pressuring me for a child and obviously, even with the pressure, I would never do anything that y/n would not have wanted but I thought it would be a great way to reconnect with her. Even if it didn't end in child making or whatever."

Minho let's out a frustrated groan, "You have to learn so much, Bin. But let's start with this- be honest with her. She's your wife and you ought to tell her everything. Give answers to all her questions and hold her hand if she let's you. Small steps first, a child can wait."

Changbin nods, " Okay, should I go to her right now?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Minho says, earning a slap on the arm from The King of Joseon.

He should be glad he's not being beheaded for calling the King an idiot.

*

You're almost done getting ready for bed when the lady in waiting makes an unexpected announcement .

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

Your heart leaps and the butterflies come alive again only to die down once you realise why he might be there. For a child. Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that why people get married in the first place?

"Y/n." He sighs when he enters the room, almost out of relief. He purses his lips.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" You ask.

Oh, how badly he'd hurt you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, in your voice, in your mannerisms.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I have caused you pain and I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. But I hope you know that I really do love you and only you."

"Then why the distance? Why visit Concubine Jung every night?" You ask, hands on your hips.

The tears that had left you threatened to return again.

And he tells you everything. From the conversation he overheard to how insistently Concubine Jung asked him for a child to how much solid proof he'd collected over the months and how he'd sent those evidences to the Minister of Security, who in turn ensured that by tomorrow the Jungs will out of the palace and be imprisoned for life.

It all makes sense to you now, of course it does. Yet you feel guilty. He'd been trying to protect you, all this while.

"I'm sorry, Changbin. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I only-"

"Don't apologize, y/n. It's me that should apologize. I should have somehow tried to contact you and tell you about everything. I'm-"

"No, no, Please. Don't. You only tried to protect me and-"

"No, y/n, it's all my fault, please-"

Somi overhears the entire conversation through the door, her mind finally relaxing after the misunderstanding had been solved between you and the King. She could no longer stand you being this sad. And she somehow knew King Changbin had his own reasons for his behavior.

She hears soft sounds of kissing through the door and takes it as a sign to move away from the door, and join the other maids waiting outside the palace door. She smiles to herself.

The butterflies burn with passion.

"I do not wish for a child this early. I want to be here like this with you for a while, just y/n and Changbin and maybe two or three years later, we could try for a child. What do you think?"

When he kissed you initially, you half expected this to end up in the bed. But it did. And you're glad it did.

The butterflies bloom more than ever.

You're wrapped in his arms, tightly. The nakedness no longer bothering the either of you.

"I agree. I want to be this close to you every night, not as a Queen or the mother of your child. But as y/n. As your wife."

Changbin draws his face closer to you, pecking you on the lips, "And so you shall, my love."

And so you shall.

[sparklingchan]

Serendipity || Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: Suggestive, mentions of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant) , mentions of poison, Changbin is sweeter than sugar. Set in the Joseon Era.

Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, fluff with very slight angst.

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

A/N: Hello everyone! Back with another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. I am genuinely in love with this one ngl. King Changbin is a rizzler y'all. Hope you guys have fun reading this <3

Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated)

Here's the link to the masterlist.

Being a woman in this country is not an easy task. Especially when one is a candidate for the position of the country's Queen.

You'd dreamt of this for years, the idea sewn into every thought by your father even since you were child. With time, you'd welcomed the thought without a complaint.

"My lady, the Royal messenger is here." Somi informs you, and your nervousness just goes up by a thousand.

Did you manage to become the Queen and make your father proud? Or did you get disqualified and were now just a daughter of some minister and free to marry any other commoner like yourself?

You run down the hallway and enter the pavillion in front of your house, the colorful banners of the Royal entourage shine under the bright sun.

You straighten your robes and kneel down, head almost touching the ground, as a mark of respect for the King's verdict.

The chief Eunuch opens up the scroll in his hands.

"Please find enclosed the Royal Edict from the King's Court:

I, Seo Changbin, the King of Joseon, have chosen Miss y/n of House Kim as my wife and, by extension, the Queen of our beloved country. I have consulted the three High State Councilors and my mother- the Queen Dowager about the same and we have all unanimously agreed that she would be the best choice for the country as well as the Royal family, owing it all to her wits, beauty and manners.

Congratulations to Miss y/n and her family.

The Royal family would also like to extend an invitation to the bride-to-be to shift into the Detached Palace at the earliest as part of the customary pre wedding ritual. "

It feels as if someone had punched out the air from your lungs, you couldn't speak nor stand, while your parents and brother continuously thanked the Royal Eunuch, accepting all the gifts sent by the Palace for you.

But you couldn't move. You just stayed there, frozen. For life as you had known it has come to an end.

And thereafter begins a new, Royal chapter of your life.

*

"I'm going to miss you, my child."

The days since the Edict pass by in a heartbeat. All the members of your family were busy with packing your belongings while you were busy with mentally preparing yourself to leave your family and house behind forever.

Yes, you'd always wanted to be a Queen. Yes, you'd spent years getting ready for this role. Yet when the time finally comes, it hurts you to think about leaving behind twenty three years of your life.

"I'm going to miss you too, mother." On hearing your words, your mother cries harder.

But as usual, your father shows no emotion. His face is calm.

"Remember, y/n, there are no friends in the Palace other than your husband. You cannot confide in anyone but him. The other concubines will do anything to gain his favor, but you shall always be a step ahead. Be vigilant and loyal. You will make a great Queen." He says. Like the strategist he'd always been.

"Yes, father." You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your mother clinges to your arm.

"We will try and visit you whenever we can. I'm sure his Majesty will allow."

"Yes, of course. You can visit me anytime. The Palace is only a few hours from here."

"Oh, my child! How will I ever live without you!" Another sob tears out from your mother's throat. You hug her with all the love and care you could muster up in that moment.

Your father walks out of the room, hands behind his back and face twisted into a frown.

*

The Detached Palace is to be a temporary residence for the bride-to-be. For over the next thirty days, you would be receiving lessons on various subjects like history, Royal Etiquette, sewing, cooking and most importantly- lessons on intimacy. The last lesson is considered most important, according to Somi, since it allows you to birth as many healthy heirs as possible.

After helping you dress up for the night and setting up your bed, your maids take your leave for the night, only Somi remaining by your side.

"Do you think I'll see the King tomorrow? It's queer but I'd like to know what my future husband looks like, at least."

Somi sighs, "I don't think it's allowed, my lady. I believe you can only see his Majesty on your wedding day. A month from now."

You're oddly disappointed. You had dreamt so many nights of seeing the King, holding his hand, being by his side, yet the King in those dreams often never had a face.

Was it wrong to yearn to look at your future husband's face? Just once?

A subtle knock on your door startles the both of you.

"Yes?"

"My lady, the King is here to see you." Your handmaid almost whispers the words through the door.

With unparalleled urgency, Somi helps you straighten your clothes and rushes off towards the door.

"Your majesty." The maids and Somi greet him with the customary bow, while you purse your lips in a line, head hanging in a subtle bow.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It's so loud, you're sure even the King could hear it.

"Please give us some privacy." The King commands.

And you heart beats faster on hearing his voice for the first time. Gentle, yet authoritative, just like you'd dreamt.

When Somi closes the door behind her, you almost regret wishing to see your future husband. The proximity makes you nervous and you could only hope you'd not faint in front of him.

"My lady, you may rise."

You'd almost forgotten you were still bowing to him. You mentally slap yourself.

"Y-yes, your majesty. " your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak, your eyes still on the ground.

You'd prayed for this moment for years, y/n. Why couldn't you just meet his eyes?

As if sensing your inner conflict, the King takes two long strides towards you and hooks his index finger under your chin, sending a chill down your body.

"My lady, please look at me."

And you do.

And he's like everything you'd ever wished for.

Perfect, like a beautifully crafted sculpture.

His soft brown locks, his rosy lips, the subtle mischief in his eyes. Everything is perfect.

"Y-yes, your majesty. Sorry." You mumble.

The king smiles, rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"You may call me Changbin when we're alone."

You nod.

"I just came to ask if you're finding your new residence comfortable. We both shall be busy with lessons tomorrow onwards so I figured tonight would be a good time to visit my bride."

His bride? His bride?

Your legs feel weak.

"I'm finding it extremely comfortable, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality. "

Changbin let's out a low chuckle, leaning towards you. His lips hover inches above yours. And when he speaks, you feel hot air on your lips, "I told you, y/n. Call me Changbin."

You frantically nod.

"Good. Better be careful next time, my bride."

*

When you wake up the next morning, you're sure you'd dreamt everything that happened last night.

But apparently not.

"The King is a dashing young man." Somi teases as she lathers a concoction of herbs into your hair. "You're lucky, my lady. He seems to be a gentleman."

But you are too caught up in your thoughts to reply to her.

Did the king of Joseon really come all the way to the Detached Palace to see you? What if he's disappointed with how you had reacted? But he shouldn't blame you at all.

You had not been expecting anyone yesterday night, especially not him. But he did come to you. And he touched your chin. If you focus hard enough, you could feel his touch lingering in the area.

"My lady?" Somi clicks her fingers in front of your eyes, "Come back to earth. We have to get you ready for the classes today."

Blushing, you reply, "What classes do I have today?"

You had three classes today: Palace etiquette, literature and what Somi insists most important: lessons on reproduction.

While Palace etiquette mostly includes lesson on how to behave with Royal elders, ministers, maids, the King, literature includes important pieces of literature that are important for a woman.

And lastly, the most dreaded time arrived.

The reproduction lessons.

The tutor shows you all sorts of obnoxious hand movements and some drawings of couples in intimate positions. You feel uncomfortable from the beginning till the end.

A woman at least five decades older than you is teaching you about intimacy? Very awkward, to say the least.

But you heave a sigh of relief when the classes end for the day and you make your way to your room in the Detached palace.

"It's just the first day, Somi and I'm already tired to the bone." You say, kicking your shoes off.

"Well, it's going to be a lifetime of time this now, my lady. And you best be prepared for it."

You reply Somi with silence. But her words make you wonder. If this palace life would ever be less tiring someday? Would it even be worth it?

Perhaps not.

But King Changbin 's face flashes in front of your eyes; his sparkling eyes, mischievous grin, his feather like touch- maybe he is what will make everything worth it.

That night, after your maids get your bed ready while Somi is combing your hair, a familiar announcement echoes through the corridors of the Detached Palace.

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

His smiling face peeps through the doors as your maids hurry out of the room. He wears blue silk robes, and you feel weaker in his presence than you did yesterday.

"Did you miss me, y/n?"

And thus begins a month of secret nightly visits by the King of Joseon to the Detached Palace.

Everyday, you wake up looking forward to the time when King Changbin would come knocking at your doors, always up to some jesting.

Sometimes, he brings you fruits you'd mentioned you liked or he tells you stories from his childhood. At other times, he tells you about that one teacher he will hate till the end of time.

But most times, he spends his time listening to you talk- about everything and everyone, about the skies and gods, about ghosts and afterlife, about favourite foods and literature. After you'd overcome the initial shyness, opening upto Changbin was as easy as breathing, almost natural. Of course, you were still nervous around him, but it's a feeling you'd come to like.

Is this what the writers and poets describe as 'butterflies'?

"Do you think I'll make a good Queen?" You ask him one night. He sits in front you on a cushion, across the room, a position you told him is appropriate for two unwed people (although he did not agree to it initially).

If your nightly shenanigans were to be ever discovered by anyone, you would not want to be found in close proximity to each other even though you were betrothed to each other. He's breaking Palace rules everyday as it is.

He hums, "Of course! I think you'll make a great Queen. You're so good at your lessons already."

"That does not guarantee anything. I might not be good at taking the responsibilities."

"Do you trust my judgment, y/n? I think you'll make a great Queen. And even if you are overwhelmed, I shall always be here."

That night he leaves earlier than he usually does, owing to the fact that tomorrow is the day where his concubines are to be welcomed into the palace. Five of them.

The thought leaves you feeling bitter and dejected, but you make sure to not make those feelings obvious. This is a rule for Kings, to take as many concubines as possible to ensure the continuation of the blood line.

"Don't worry, my lady. Your rank in the palace is above these petty concubines. They will not mess with you." Somi comforts your thoughts the next day.

"But what if Changbin favors them more?"

Somi does not reply to that question.

*

On your 18th birthday, your father had promised to you that he would make you the Queen of this country. He kept his promise because here you are, after five years, getting dressed to be married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your father always insisted that powerful men do not love but Changbin's sparkling eyes always contradicted everything your father had taught. Nevertheless, you know the competitiveness among the concubines for the King's affection is mad. More often than not, even the Queen gets involved in petty fights.

But you try to remove all thoughts of your father and the concubines today. Because today, you are to be married to King Changbin. From today, your name will be written in the historical logs of the Royal family. From today, a new life begins.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Somi asks, "You look worried."

"I'm fine. Just hope the ceremony goes well."

The ceremony does go well and in all honesty, you were not worried about the ceremony itself. You were worried about the aftermath.

The maids guide you to your new palace, and get you dressed in white robes for the wedding night. The night when you will finally meet Changbin as his wife. The butterflies swim around in your belly.

The bed is decorated with flower petals and a few candles are lit. Everything is perfect.

"The King is here." One of your ladies in waiting announce and you get up to greet your husband.

The maids leave the room as the doors slide open and Changbin steps in, also dressed in white robes. He looks dashing, but his signature grin is nowhere to be found.

When the doors close behind him, he walks past you to the bed, the scent of liquor evident in his breath.

"Have you been drinking, your majesty?" You ask him, worried by his odd behavior.

What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he even bother to meet your eyes?

"Changbin." He slurs, wrapping the blankets around him, "Call me Changbin."

He turns away from you and is snoring away in no time.

The butterflies in your stomach flutter around before dropping dead.

*

You did not sleep that night. Even though you were sleeping next to the man you love, you felt lonelier than ever.

Many times during the night, you consider walking out of the bed chamber to the servants quarter so you could talk to Somi. But you couldn't do that. Because you were now the Queen of this country and every single step you take will have its repercussions.

When morning comes, Changbin wakes up in a haste and greets you with a subtle nod and walks out of the chamber in long strides.

You well the tears back. It's your first day as Queen and hadn't he always promised to be there when you were overwhelmed? Had he lied? Or was it Changbin's doppelganger who visited you every night in the Detached palace?

Somi comes in a few minutes later with an excited smile on her face.

When she does your hair for the day, she asks, "So, how was the wedding night?"

You want to answer her truthfully - how cold Changbin had been, how he had not even looked at you let alone touch you, how you think he had changed almost overnight. But you see the prying eyes of the other palace maids and swallow your sadness.

"It was perfect. Like everything I'd ever hoped for."

"He was gentle, I hope." She says through a grin, but it feels like someone pouring alcohol on an open wound.

"Yes. He was."

As part of royal customs, the new bride is supposed to visit the senior most female member of the family and greet her. In your case, the member happens to King Changbin's mother.

Somi dresses you in the most exquisite silks and adorns your hair with the most precious flower but you feel nothing at all when everyone compliments you on the way out of your new Queen's palace.

Your mother in law's palace is a little far from the Queen's palace yet it is as beautiful as any other palace. From inside as well as outside.

"Greetings, your majesty. It is nice to meet you." You bow in front of the Queen Dowager.

The woman-not more than sixty years of age- looks at you with a gentle smile.

"Come in, y/n. Please be at ease."

You're seated in front of her on a cushion while the Queen Dowager's maids serve you breakfast.

"I hope your first day here goes well, my child. Our family is thrilled to have you." She says.

"The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. I am honored to be a part of this family." You say.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Changbin is thrilled to have you or not. Probably not.

The mere thought of yesterday's rejection stings.

"Y/n, truth be told, my son is a quite a troubled man. His father was murdered in front of his eyes. He was made the king when he was only 16 years old. It's been 7 years since then, but the burden only gets worse. I hope you, as a Queen and as his wife, can help him lessen these burdens. Can you do that?" The Queen Dowager asks again, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I will do everything I can to help him." If only he'd let you.

"Good, good. I'm glad. And one more thing, y/n, you know as Queen one of your primary duties is to produce an heir for Changbin's throne. I hope you're working on that, yes?"

Heat reaches your cheeks. If only the poor woman knew what her dear son had done last night. If his behavior continues, perhaps it will be long before the Queen Dowager sees the face of a royal grandchild.

"We are trying, your majesty. We will not disappoint you." You reply, sipping tea from your own cup.

"Great! I shall send all types of herbs and tonics to help you conceive as fast as possible. I shall also draw up a chart after consulting the astrologer..." the Queen Dowager's voice fades into the background as your mind drifts off to the nights in the Detached palace, when Changbin would come and spend all his free time with you, against the rules of the palace. At that time, you had been sure that producing an heir would be a beautiful process, not a chore.

But Changbin does not even treat the thought like a chore.

Did he not love you? Did his Royal duties burden him too much?

When you leave the Queen Dowager's palace, you walk past The King's palace. It is as beautiful and majestic as they say. But you wonder if you'll ever be able to set foot in the same.

As if on cue, you see Concubine Jung walking out of the King's palace, her maids behind her. The butterflies in your stomach burn with jealousy.

She has a smirk on her face when she sees you.

"Eun, did you know there's a rumor around the palace that the King refused to sleep with the Queen last night? Sad, isn't it?" Concubine Jung says.

One of her maids giggle and nod, "Of course! How could the Queen even live with this shame?"

You cry yourself to sleep that night, while Somi does everything in her abilities to soothe you.

Needless to say, nothing worked.

*

"My lady, wake up. The King has invited you to breakfast with him." Somi informs one morning, six months after your wedding.

"Tell him I have a bad stomach bug. I cannot go."

You'd be found dead before sharing a meal with him and that obnoxious Concubine Jung. You'd shared enough meals with them already.

The past months, the King had not visited you even once but often you'd see him walking the gardens with Concubine Jung at his side.

After the first few weeks, you had no tears left to shed anymore so when the rumor came in last month that Concubine Jung might be pregnant, your eyes do not water no matter how much you force yourself to cry.

"I do not wish to congratulate them." You say, true and plain.

"My lady, he's invited only you. Not anyone else."

So you agree. As a last attempt to make your marriage work, even if it's just for your own sake.

Somi dresses you in green robes- The King's favorite. You quickly make your way to his palace, as if someone else would take your place if you didn't hurry. It's sad your thoughts had turned so negative in just half a year in the palace.

Your father had told you the King would take in many lovers during his lifetime, and that being Queen is about having power, not being loved.

But you think he didn't warn you enough. He didn't warn you how lonely it would be to sleep on the cold bed every night, how painful it would be to see the King smile at someone else.

Even if you did wish for a child, how could you produce you a child without Changbin?

"Good morning, your majesty." You say to him when you enter his bed chamber. It smells like cinnamon, a smell he'd often carry with himself back when he used to visit you at the Detached palace. Back when you were sure the king had been in love with you.

"Hello, my Queen. Please have a seat."

The butterflies dance around for a split second.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asks, taking a seat in front of you.

"Yes." Lies. "Thank you for inviting me over."

When the maids leave the both of you alone, his demeanor changes.

"Actually, y/n, I had something to talk to you about." He says, casually, as if he hadn't been hurting you everyday for the past few months.

"What is it?" You ask.

He sighs, "It's mother. Ever since that rumor of Concubine Jung being pregnant spread. She wants the first grandchild to be of the Queen."

His words do not faze you, "How can I help you, Changbin?"

He frowns. Since when had your tone become this melancholic?

"Um, so if I have your consent, I'd like to try for a child tomorrow night. We'll see how that goes, yeah?"

"Okay. I will be honored." You say.

You finish up the food quickly and almost slide the doors open when he grabs your arm from behind.

"Y/n, what is it? Did something happen? Are your parents well?"

"My parents are well enough, thank you for asking." You say, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"Then? What happened? Is it Concubine Jung? Really, you did not have to be jealous of her. She's not pregnant. I can assure you of that. I have not consummated my marriage with any one of the concubines."

His words seem to have an effect on you. Your heart blossoms with hope but you keep your face and voice neutral.

"I am not jealous, Changbin. If one of the concubines get pregnant, I shall wish you both well."

You force your arm out of his grip and walk out the palace, not looking back once.

Changbin's stares at your leaving figure, now worried beyond relief that he might have broken the one person he cared for the most by his pursuits of a greater good.

*

While the past few months for you had been filled with loneliness, for Changbin it was almost the same-if not worse.

The first night of your marriage was filled with as many butterflies for him, as it was for you.

He had fallen in love with you and he wasn't afraid to show the world how much you meant to him. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. And he had all plans to do that on the first night.

But that was until he had overheard a secret conversation between Concubine Jung and her father- Minister Jung.

For all he knew, Minister Jung had always wanted his daughter to be the Queen but being the dim-wit that she was, Concubine Jung could not even get through the first stage.

"Father, it's been two days since I'd been in the palace and that man has not visited me once. He had not even asked for my name the day of the welcoming. What kind of man is he? And you say I am to be Queen!"

"Hush, child. In this palace, even the walls are listening. Be careful. And as far as the position of Queen is concerned, you need not worry. If the King does bed the Queen tonight and she get pregnant, we shall make sure her pregnancy terminates before maturity. I have connections with all sorts of medicine vendors in the country, be assured, she shall never see the face of a child. After we weaken the Queen, we can take her throne as easily!"

Changbin had wanted to laugh at the man's foolish plans but deep down, he was worried as well. For you.

Which is why he pushed you away for so long and kept Concubine Jung close. While she tried everything in her power to seduce him, he refused her under the pretense of keeping an oath of abstinence for a year.

Every time she tried to even hold his hand, Changbin thought of you; your innocent eyes, your talks, your wit, your hands, your beautiful hair. No woman could make him feel like you do.

Changbin's secret informants had confirmed that Minister Jung had not one but two houses full of gold and cash he'd collected as illegal taxes from the local people. He'd also sometimes force husbands to send their wives to him in exchange for money. Even the thought nauseated Changbin.

Every time Concubine Jung visited, he made sure to collect some sort of evidence through her. He even visited her every night and while she snored away, he stole some of her gold jewlery and clothes to get them checked as evidence of the illegal taxes her father had been collecting.

And sure enough, after a few months of spying on her and her father, Changbin had gathered enough evidence by now to expose both of them at the court.

But he realised quickly that Minister Jung had a few tricks up his sleeves as well. The rumor of his daughter's pregnancy would make it difficult for Changbin to expose him easily, and so Changbin waited every night that the rumors would die down so he could run to the Queen's Palace and hug you with all his might. You were not safe unless the father and daughter were deposed.

And for some selfish reasons, Changbin had hoped you'd understand the reason behind his distance. But no woman could find a logical reason behind her lover being absent and it was horribly wrong for him to expect you to do the same.

"Are you stupid?" His friend, the eccentric dancer Minho had asked him.

Changbin had told him how coldly you'd behaved this afternoon when he'd asked you if you wished to try for a child. Most women would giggle and blush. But you were like a statue.

"You push her away for months and make her feel lonely and not loved and what not and you have the audacity to ask her that?"

"Well, yes. Mother had been pressuring me for a child and obviously, even with the pressure, I would never do anything that y/n would not have wanted but I thought it would be a great way to reconnect with her. Even if it didn't end in child making or whatever."

Minho let's out a frustrated groan, "You have to learn so much, Bin. But let's start with this- be honest with her. She's your wife and you ought to tell her everything. Give answers to all her questions and hold her hand if she let's you. Small steps first, a child can wait."

Changbin nods, " Okay, should I go to her right now?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Minho says, earning a slap on the arm from The King of Joseon.

He should be glad he's not being beheaded for calling the King an idiot.

*

You're almost done getting ready for bed when the lady in waiting makes an unexpected announcement .

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

Your heart leaps and the butterflies come alive again only to die down once you realise why he might be there. For a child. Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that why people get married in the first place?

"Y/n." He sighs when he enters the room, almost out of relief. He purses his lips.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" You ask.

Oh, how badly he'd hurt you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, in your voice, in your mannerisms.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I have caused you pain and I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. But I hope you know that I really do love you and only you."

"Then why the distance? Why visit Concubine Jung every night?" You ask, hands on your hips.

The tears that had left you threatened to return again.

And he tells you everything. From the conversation he overheard to how insistently Concubine Jung asked him for a child to how much solid proof he'd collected over the months and how he'd sent those evidences to the Minister of Security, who in turn ensured that by tomorrow the Jungs will out of the palace and be imprisoned for life.

It all makes sense to you now, of course it does. Yet you feel guilty. He'd been trying to protect you, all this while.

"I'm sorry, Changbin. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I only-"

"Don't apologize, y/n. It's me that should apologize. I should have somehow tried to contact you and tell you about everything. I'm-"

"No, no, Please. Don't. You only tried to protect me and-"

"No, y/n, it's all my fault, please-"

Somi overhears the entire conversation through the door, her mind finally relaxing after the misunderstanding had been solved between you and the King. She could no longer stand you being this sad. And she somehow knew King Changbin had his own reasons for his behavior.

She hears soft sounds of kissing through the door and takes it as a sign to move away from the door, and join the other maids waiting outside the palace door. She smiles to herself.

The butterflies burn with passion.

"I do not wish for a child this early. I want to be here like this with you for a while, just y/n and Changbin and maybe two or three years later, we could try for a child. What do you think?"

When he kissed you initially, you half expected this to end up in the bed. But it did. And you're glad it did.

The butterflies bloom more than ever.

You're wrapped in his arms, tightly. The nakedness no longer bothering the either of you.

"I agree. I want to be this close to you every night, not as a Queen or the mother of your child. But as y/n. As your wife."

Changbin draws his face closer to you, pecking you on the lips, "And so you shall, my love."

And so you shall.

[sparklingchan]

A Duel of Hearts || Kim Seungmin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Seungmin Word Count: 5k+ Warnings: Suggestive, strong language(ig), mention of suicide (not the main characters). Genre: Royal AU, Friends to Lovers, Dark Academia, Angst mixed with fluff. Description: Caught in a dilemma of affection, Kim Seungmin, a prince, finds himself drawn to you. There was but one obstacle to his pursuit —you've set a single condition for all potential suitors: no royal lineage. A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. Idk why but Seungmin has this Dark Academia kind of vibe so I tried to incorporate that here. Hope you guys like it! More to come<3 Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated) Here's the link.

You like to believe that your new dorm room is starting to grow on you.

It wasn't anything like your room back in your parents' house of course; but over the past twelve months, you'd renovated your dorm room enough to feel at home.

You'd replaced the light blue curtains with grey ones, swapped the single candle stand with a lantern to help you study better at night, put on a white table cloth and the list goes on.

A knock on your door pulls your attention.

It must be Wendy, you think to yourself, walking toward the door.

Correction: your only friend Wendy.

"Gosh, I really hate this academy, y/n." She walks in complaining, "I cannot believe they gave me a B in geography. I love geography. I cannot believe they'd ruin my overall grade like that."

"What happened?" You ask, closing the door behind her.

"I don't know! I will deal with this later, anyway," she says, fishing out a note from the pocket of her blazer. "I'm here to discuss a more pressing matter."

"What's that?"

"Of course, it's one of your lovers, y/n. I have two more lover letters in my backpack. Do you need them?"

You half chuckle and half sigh, taking the note from her and tearing it into bits.

"Ouch." Wendy says, staring at you, "Tell me y/n, it's been over a year since you joined the academy. All the boys here would die to even see you across the hallway yet you've kept the door to your heart locked. Why?"

"I am not not open to having a relationship. I just dislike how most of these men who pursue me are of royal blood. And if there's anything I despise most is royalty. That letter you gave me right now? It was from the Duke's son. It's his third letter in a row. That boy just doesn't know when to stop." You press your hand to your forehead, stressed.

Wendy nods her head, "Yeah, he is an annoying brat, I'll give you that, but y/n, I really don't understand your dislike towards royalty? Any girl out there would love to be pursued by royal suitors, including myself."

You smile in response, "It's a secret."

As always, Wendy just chuckles and doesn't push you to answer further because really, you don't know what you'll do if you ever have to explain yourself. It's a secret you rarely even discuss with yourself.

"Come on, we'll be late for our afternoon class." You say and walk towards the door, already tired of the day ahead of you.

*

“But Professor, do you not think that the first king of Taru was a horrible person morally? I mean, he did kill all of his wives when they failed to birth a son.”

If there is anyone in this academy who you think hates you to the core is your History Professor. The amount of times you’d ask him a question and he’d reply very vaguely, never answering to the point was insane. So naturally, you had developed a habit of asking him odd questions just to spite him.

Your Professor looks at you, almost angrily, and answers, “We are no one to judge a historical figure. Miss y/n.”

“But sir, you are portraying him as a role model to the class. Don’t you think that’s wrong? As you said, we are no one to judge him.”

Your professor hisses through gritted teeth and turns towards the board, not bothering to answer you. A subtle smile finds your lips.

“So, class as I was saying. The first King of this country- Taru- built the longest bridge in -”

“Excuse me, sir?” A hand shoots up from among the students followed by a voice, “May I answer Miss y/n’s question please?”

Your professor rubs his temple and sighs, nodding, “Go ahead, Mister Seungmin.”

You turn your head up to look at the owner of the voice, and much to your surprise, it is Kim Seungmin. He’s one of the quieter kids in the class but you’ve worked on a few projects together so you know that there’s more depth to him than just being the quiet kid by the window seat.

“Y/n, I think we could still look up to the King as a leader. Yes, he was ruthless to his wives but we don’t need to look up to him as a husband. He was, on the other hand, a great leader who led his country to become one of the greatest in the world, second to none.”

“Well, does that answer your question?” The professor asks and you nod, bowing towards Seungmin. He bows back.

The professor teaches the class for an hour more, letting you guys dismiss after his daily warning of, “You'll be going to universities next year so do work hard this year,”

You gather all your things and walk out of the class, stomach growling, almost begging you to make your way to the dining area for lunch.

For lunch, the menu rarely changes except on holidays.

And in all honesty, you’re tired of having chicken stew with rice everyday since you stepped foot in this academy, but the other options are extremely limited so you join the line of hungry and tired students, complaining about how difficult this year has been.

Once you have your plate of rice and stew, you seat on one of the empty benches and begin to gobble up the rice like there’s no tomorrow.

“Um, y/n? Mind if I join you?”

“Seungmin?” you ask, almost surprised, “Have a seat, please.”

Seungmin mutters a small ‘thanks’ and claims the seat in front of you, placing his backpack on the sides.

“So what have you been up to?” he asks to break the ice. It seems like you’re more focused on the rice in front of you than him.

“Eating?” you chuckle, “What’s up with you? How’s your preparation for University?”

Seungmin, licks his bottom lip, deep in thought.

How was his preparation for university going, really? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t even remember the last time he opened his books after school.

In fact, lately, his mind has been occupied with something entirely different-you.

You, who acts so indifferent to the rest of the people yet helped Seungmin when he was almost failing a chemistry project evaluation.

You, who says she has no friends yet packs extra food from home for Wendy.

You, who says she is having a hard time adjusting to the academy yet she’s his favorite person here.

How could you not be on his mind?

“Eh, it’s okay. I guess.” Seungmin scratches the back of his head. “How’s yours?”

“Not really well, to be honest . If only that duke’s son would stop sending me those stupid letters, my life would be a lot more peaceful.” you say and it’s true that those letter have been nothing short of a nuisance since you came back from the semester break. You respect his feelings, but you’re not obligated to like him back. Hell, you’ve never even spoken to the man. “He’s so persistent, it scares me, really.”

Seungmin could feel his anger building up. Of course he knows you have quite a few admirers. Even some of his friends are in that crowd. But Seungmin likes to think he always had the upper hand.

Yet he feels annoyed, offended at the thought that someone was pursuing you to the point of fear.

“He might be a duke’s son but he isn’t behaving like one.” Seungmin comments.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. All of these aristocrats and royals believe that the world is at their disposal. They could just command it and everything would go according to them. It’s ridiculous. I’m so glad you’re not from a royal line or else we wouldn’t have been having this conversation.” you say and Seungmin’s world stands still.

You think he’s not from a royal family?

You didn’t know who he really was?

He almost wants to tell you the truth, that he, in fact, is the descendant of the very king you were talking about in History today. But he chooses to remain silent. He’s enjoying your company way too much to ruin it in one day.

“Yeah, thank god for that.” Prince Seungmin replies.

*

The next few days pass by in the blink of an eye and the academic pressure gets worse.

"Wendy, could I borrow your lantern? Mine is broken, I think." You ask Wendy one afternoon.

The sun brightens up the inside of Wendy's room.

"Yeah, sure." She passes you her lantern, "I have a spare one. Going to the library?"

You nod.

There's no better place to study than the library. Especially on such a warm and cozy afternoon when everyone just wants to take a nap.

"I'll see you at dinner then?"

"Sure thing."

You walk the corridors, fiddling with your pockets, making sure you'd taken all your stationary. It would be a hassle to walk back to your room again.

As soon as you enter the library, the sounds of the world as if disappear. Not even the tapping of pens could be heard without focusing hard.

You find a suitable seat for yourself by the window and settle down there.

The library feels colder than your room and you're grateful for it. At least you wouldn't be sleepy now.

"Someone's working hard, I see." A teasing voice whispers from behind, "May I join you?"

Seungmin’s voice, much to your surprise, brings a smile to your face.

"Sure." You say, shy like a kid in kindergarten.

He claims the seat across you, setting his books and stationary on the table.

And for the next three hours, the only sound you hear from his side is that of his breathing. Even and steady.

He's busy reading a book and his eyes are focused on the pages, never once wavering anywhere else.

He's quite sincere, you realize.

The sun sets and the students light up their lanterns and immediately go back to studying. Seungmin glances at you for a second, his lips curving into a soft smile. You smile back, albeit shyly.

Hours pass by and you know it's almost time for dinner because your stomach is growling. Louder than ever.

"Y/n," Seungmin speaks to you, putting his book down, "Want to have some warm Noodles? There's a new stall in town which sells delicious noodles."

You contemplate for a second before agreeing with a smile.

"Noodles sound amazing right now."

The both of you pick up your lanterns and walk out the main gate into the streets of the town.

While the town is busy and bustling with activities during the day, at nightfall the town comes to a standstill. Something you've always liked.

"It's not in the market square, I presume." You say as Seungmin navigates through the lanes of the market.

"No," He replies, "But it is quite near to the market."

After a five minute walk from the market square, you finally see an old bamboo hut in the distance, dim and quiet.

But the moment Seungmin and you are seated on one of the wooden benches, you're as if in a trance. The aroma of herbs and spices and chicken broth is nothing like you'd ever felt before.

"Grandma, we'll have two bowls of noodles with a side of Kimchi, please." Seungmin says.

"Sure thing, son." The woman replies with a twinkle in her eyes.

"You're a regular here. " You say to Seungmin, looking around the interiors of the stall. "It's cozy and the noodles smell amazing already."

"Oh, y/n, wait till you taste them. It'll be like nothing you'd ever had before."

And true to his words, the moment you eat those noodles, flavors burst in your mouth.

It is a perfect blend of sweet and salty, but the black pepper adds the perfect spice to the combination of flavors.

"Seungmin, this is amazing!" You say, taking a second bite. "We have to come back here again!"

He can only chuckle at your reaction. If you'd say the word, he'd bring you to this place everyday. Without fail.

The two of you eat quietly, only sharing a glance of amazement once in a while.

"I'll pay, y/n." Seungmin offers once you guys are done eating, bellies full.

"No! Let me pay." You get up immediately and walk up to the old lady.

Seungmin can only shake his head at you.

"How much will that be, grandma?" You ask, taking out your purse.

"Oh, its on the house today. " the lady says, much to your surprise, "Master Seungmin brought his girlfriend out for a date at our place. I couldn't take money from you today."

Seungmin and you stare at each other, wide eyed and speechless and hearts racing.

"Grandma! She's not my girlfriend! We're classmates." Seungmin says, the tip of his ears bright red.

You nod, shyly, "There's nothing of that sort going on between us!"

Grandma smiles as she pours soup into a bowl, "Well, not yet maybe. I have an eye for things like that, you see."

When you exit the hut, Seungmin remains quite, his lips pursed in a line. It's truly endearing to see him flustered like that.

"Well, that was awkward." You say, trying to lighten up the mood.

Seungmin nods, rubbing the back of his head, "Sorry about that. I don't know why she'd say that."

"No, no, it's okay. She's an adorable woman." You say.

The rest of the walk passes by in silence.

For some reason, you always find yourself in these silent moments with Seungmin. But you like the silence. It's calming, not uncomfortable.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks as the two of you reach the entrance of your dorm building.

You nod. You're about to turn around when he pulls you in for a gentle embrace.

Your heart stops. Your breathing stops. The earth stops.

Without even meaning to, you find yourself melting into the embrace.

The next second, Seungmin pulls back and walks towards his dorm, not even saying a word.

And you're standing there, mouth hanging open.

What are these nervous sensations Seungmin is making you feel?

*

"So why were you not at dinner yesterday?" Wendy asks the next morning, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, "Were you with a boy?"

You try to calm the heat spreading to your cheeks, "Kind of. But it wasn't anything like what you think. I swear. We were studying together and then he asked if I wanted to try a new food stall in town. That's all."

And then he hugged you Goodnight. And you haven't been able to forget the way his body felt against yours.

"And who exactly is 'we'?" Wendy asks again, the tone of suspiciousness still present in her words.

"Seungmin and I." You say.

Wendy stares at you, flabbergasted.

Seungmin and you?

You went out on a supposed platonic date with a Prince?

"Y/n, Seungmin is-" Wendy's words are cut off by the ringing of the hourly bell, indicating that your classes are about to begin.

"Wendy, I'll tell you all about it. Promise. See you later." You say and disappear into the crowd of hurrying students but Wendy doesn't move.

Wendy has a different plan in her mind. Something she considers more important than attending boring lectures.

*

"Kim Seungmin, can I see you for a second?" Wendy drags Seungmin by his arm the moment he steps out of his dorm building.

He stares at her, confused.

He didn't have a class yet; he was just stepping out to get some breakfast. Where was she dragging him early in the morning?

"What's wrong?" He asks.

Wendy and him have never even talked with each other before so why this sudden interest?

Wendy stands in front of him, eyes full of doubt. Her hands rest on her hips.

"Are you trying to mess with y/n?" She asks flatly.

Seungmin is taken aback, "What? No! Of course not!"

Why would she even think that? Seungmin almost feels angry.

"Then why are you hanging out with her late at night and why is she oblivious to you being of royal blood?"

Seungmin sighs, "Okay, Wendy, listen. I'm not trying to mess with her or anything. But its true I haven't told her about my family yet. And I will tell her. But I just want her to know me for me. Before she starts to dislike me just because I'm of royal blood. Do you think I'm wrong?"

Wendy thinks for a second before replying, "Well, you don't mean any harm. But...I think you should tell her about yourself. I mean if you're trying to get her to like you back, might as well be honest about your life."

Seungmin’s eyes are wide with shock. How did she even know about Seungmin’s crush on you? Did one of his friends spread the rumor? Did she try to spy on him?

"Hey, don't look so surprised, your majesty." sarcasm drips from her words, "Everyone here knows you like her. We have eyes, you know?"

Seungmin doesn't reply, embarrassed. Of course it is hot gossip when a prince falls in love, isn't it?

People have written sagas and books and poems about it. What is a little academy gossip compared to that?

*

You find out Seungmin hanging out with a female friend the a few days later during lunch, and you try to shake off an uncomfortable feeling.

"Seungmin, could I speak to you for a second?"

The girl looks at you, from head to toe and nods her head. "Hey, she's quite pretty, Seungmin."

Seungmin sighs, "Oh, shut up, Sojong. Don't you have a class?"

His ears are red again, like how they were back at the noodles shop.

"I'm going now anyways. Bye sweethearts!" The girl walks off with a smile, and you're left confused.

"Don't mind her. She's my cousin. An idiot cousin, if I may add."

It feels as if a weight is lifted off of your chest. Your lips automatically curve into a smile.

"I didn't know you had a cousin in the academy."

"Yeah, well. Now you do. So what's going on?" He replies.

"Um.. did Wendy say something to you a few days ago? About you going to the noodles stall with me?"

Seungmin chuckles, "Oh yeah. But it's alright. She's your friend. I get that she's quite protective of you."

You smile, "Thanks for understanding. But , umm...Seungmin, she also might have implied that you kind of want to go out with me."

Seungmin’s soul almost leaves his body. Wendy could not have shut up about it, could she? Now you probably think Seungmin is some kind of creep trying to get into your pants.

"Hey, it's okay. Wendy always exaggerates everything and she wants me to get a boyfriend desperately so I understand if you didn't say anything of that sort to her. She's not very good at conveying messages." You say.

"But I did." Seungmin says, mustering all his courage, "I did say that. To her. And it's totally okay if you don't feel the same way about me. I really do. "

You almost feel like laughing.

You haven't been able to get him out of your mind for the past few days. And he thinks you don't like him?

The both of you had been busy with different classes and tests and projects. The few glances and greetings you shared with him during lunch would become the highlight of your day. And he thinks you wouldn't want to go out with him?

Impossible.

"I do, though. I'm open to the idea of going out with you."

Seungmin was not prepared for that answer. He was sure he'd get rejected, but here you were, looking all shy and sweet while confessing to liking him back?

"Um..so how about tomorrow night? There's a nice restaurant with live music and all. I could book us a table there."

You try to supress the grin that is trying to claw its way onto your face.

"Sounds great. See you then."

"Yeah, see you." He replies, heart hammering hard against his chest.

*

The night finally comes and you find Seungmin standing just outside of your dorm building.

He wears a black long coat and pants, paired with a high collared white shirt and a rose in his hands.

Your legs feel weak the moment your eyes meet. And the gravity of the situation finally dawns on you.

By tonight, Kim Seungmin might become your boyfriend. He's handsome, intelligent and funny, yet he decides to go out on a date with you?

Why? How did the two of you even end up here?

On the other hand, Seungmin feels like he'd been hit by the cupid's arrow. The only thing he can think about as you make your way towards him is how beautiful that long, pink dress looks on you and how he couldn't wait to make you his.

"For the beautiful lady." He says, offering you the red rose.

Shyly, you take the rose.

"Shall we?" He asks, gently taking your hand. Your hand feels warm.

"Yes." You reply, intertwining your fingers with his.

Oh, how beautiful it feels.

To be able to walk hand in hand with the man you admired so much. It feels natural. Like this is how the two of you were always meant to be. Maybe if Wendy had never told you about how Seungmin felt about you, you'd have never made the effort to ask him if he ever saw you in a non-platonic way.

But you're glad everything that happened happened. You're not someone who liked to live with what-ifs.

The restaurant he'd booked just adds to the beauty of this evening. The ambience is nice and a musician plays a beautiful melody on the piano, matching to the aesthetic of the place.

"I had booked a table for two by the name of Kim Seungmin. "

The waiter takes you to your place, a large candle adorning the center of the table.

You take your seats and the waiter takes your order and leaves.

Seungmin gets a hold of your hand again, intertwining your fingers.

"I can't believe we're actually out on a date." He chuckles, tracing his thumb across the back of your palm.

"I can't either. It's surreal." You say, "But I love it. I love being here with you."

Seungmin nods, "I love being anywhere, as long as you're with me."

"Didn't know Kim Seungmin was such a flirt, huh." You laugh, your cheeks heating up.

"Oh, you're in for a long ride, baby girl." He says, pressing his lips softly against your fingers.

Goosebumps.

Indeed, you were in for a long ride.

*

That night, the two of you walk back to the academy campus in silence.

A silence that is so calming and so comforting, it feels almost like a soothing hug from Seungmin.

When you two reach the main entrance of your dorm, Seungmin pulls you in for a hug again.

And just like last time, you melt into his arms.

He smells like smoke and mint and comfort.

"I had a great time, y/n." He whispers, pulling away but keeping your faces close.

He put strands of your hair behind your ears, so soft and tender.

"I did, too." You reply, your hands gently settling on his cheeks.

"Can I kiss you, y/n, please?" Seungmin asks, almost pleads. Like kissing you is what would keep him alive from that day on, like kissing you would fill his lungs with oxygen, like kissing you is the drug that he just cannot quit.

And you can only nod before he crashes his lips onto yours.

And yet again, he's gentle and tender and you sigh into his mouth when he pulls you closer.

He tastes like the tiramisu you had back in the restaurant, sweet and like strawberries.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." He says when you pull back, breathing heavy. His eyes are shy with a sense of pride in them. He couldn't believe that the girl he'd been crushing on since last year was finally his. He couldn't believe his luck.

And neither could you.

"Yeah, see you!" You say and kiss his lips once again before jogging into the dorm building.

Seungmin goes to sleep that night dreaming of you and wakes up yearning for you in the morning.

And the cycle repeats every day, for the next 2 months.

The two of you had become inseparable, spending every possible moment with each other.

Whenever your schedules would not let you spend a lot of time together, the two of would make sure to have at least one meal together. That single meal would be the highlight of both of your days.

But the final exams loom over you like an ominous grey cloud.

"So, as you already know, our country neighbors multiple other countries, each with their own king and set of rules. I want you all to remember the names of all current kings and all new rules they had added to their country during their tenure. " the history teacher was going on and on, "Remember, you only have a month left for your finals. That final grade would determine the trajectory of your lives. Study well."

And he finishes off with that threat.

You were so busy jotting down notes during the class that you didn't notice Seungmin's absence from the day's class.

You'd been late this morning and didn't have time to even have breakfast before coming to class. Naturally, you'd assumed he'd been in the class.

"I don't see your boyfriend today, y/n." Wendy says after class, as if reading your mind.

"Yeah, I've been wondering the same thing." You say, absently, stuffing your books back in your bag.

Wendy tags along with her other friends for lunch and you excuse yourself, making your way towards Seungmin’s dorm building.

You'd been to his room multiple times now, yet everytime you're surprised by how neat it is. The books are neatly lined up on the shelf, the blankets are folded on the bed and his shoes are neatly stacked by the corner of his cupboard.

"Missed you at class today." You say to Seungmin, whose eyes widen with excitement when he sees you enter the room.

"Yeah, I spent nearly three hours solving a problem last night, I didn't wake up on time." He says, patting the space near him on the bed.

You sit beside him, "Can we study together at night? I need your help."

He agrees immediately, pecking your cheek.

"In fact, we could go to the library right now, what say?" He asks.

"Did you forget, Seungmin? We have a field trip today. In the second half. We're supposed to assemble at the playground after lunch."

Seungmin chuckles, "Yeah. A field trip to the old fort of Taru. Almost forgot about it."

Something he'd been dreading for weeks now.

When it was announced that the final year students would be going on a field trip, he was excited in the beginning.

But when he found out the location of the said trip, he was devastated. The old fort of Taru was his ancestral home. His grandfather and great-grand father and great-great grandfather fought multiple wars and ruled the country from that fort and when they passed away, Seungmin’s father had shifted his family to a new palace just outside the city, deciding to turn the old fort into a museum for tourists.

Seungmin didn't dislike the old fort. In fact, he loved visiting that place . Every year, he'd look forward to visiting the old fort to pay homage to his forefathers during special festivals that only the Royal family celebrated.

Yet, he was dreading today's trip. Because at the entrance of the new museum, stands a tall painting of him and his family, welcoming tourists to their ancestral home.

And if you see the painting, his façade is going to disappear and you'll know his identity and that would be the end of his beautiful daydream.

But when you pull him by his collar and kiss him with so much love, he cannot help but wish for this dream to last forever.

*

When the time finally comes to board the horse carriages that would take the students to the fort, Seungmin starts rethinking every single choice of his till date. He knew he was hurting you, he knew you would be devasted to find out who he really is. But he would die if had to lose you.

And his greatest fears come to life the moment he sets foot out of that damned carriage.

Wendy, with her hand on your shoulder, stands near the fort entrance. You'd reached the fort earlier since the girls were sent off earlier. And Seungmin wishes they hadn't been.

You look confused, sad, eyebrows furrowed in exasperation.

When Wendy sees Seungmin, her eyes widen. "She knows." She mouths at him.

Seungmin swallows the lump in his throat, "Y/n, I swear..I swear I didn't do it to deceive you. I really like you and hell, I even love you. Please. Hear me out."

You don't say a word and stare at him with a piercing gaze.

"Y/n, please. I don't know why you hate Royal families but I promise you, I'm not as bad as you think they are. You know me, y/n. I'm your Seungmin!" He insists, trying to hold your hand.

But you pull away.

"You lied to me. You're no better than them." You say, almost a whisper, "Forget about what happened between us. It's over now."

And with that, the love of Seungmin’s life walks out of his life, leaving him in shambles.

*

You'd not slept properly for a week now and even stopped attending any classes. You had buried yourself in your books, revising every single page of every single book for as many times as you could.

The only time you did step out of your room was during lunch and dinner and even then, you made sure to avoid him at all costs.

It had been dreadful, really. You thought it would be easier for you to move on and forget the past few months if you kept reminding yourself of Seungmin’s lies, but it only made you miss him more.

He lied, yes; but he also made you fall in love with him, which was worse. Falling in love and dreaming of a family with Seungmin was never on your cards, you were sure you'd always marry the person your parents would have chosen for you. But here you were. Heartbroken and infatuated; both by the same person.

And today is no different from other days, or so you thought.

At around half past midnight, you hear a knock on your door. Wendy had gone home for a week and would be back tomorrow, so you are genuinely curious as to who would knock on your door at such an ungodly hour.

When you open the door, you see those eyes again- the black orbs that you'd fallen so deeply for.

"Y/n, do you have a minute? Please?" Seungmin pleads when you freeze at the sight of him.

"No. I'm afraid not." You reply, your heart hammering against your chest. The tightness in your throat does not help.

"Please, y/n. I beg you, please."

Across the hallway, a few girls pop their heads out of their doors, wondering where the male voice is from.

Sensing no other option, you pull Seungmin inside your room reluctantly.

"Fine. Say what you have to and then leave." You mutter.

You're doing everything in your power to avoid any sort of eye contact with him because you know that is what your weakness is.

He sits at the edge of your bed, while you sit in your chair, across the room.

"Y/n, you don't have to take me back. But I want you to know that I never meant to deceive you. It is pure, genuine love that I feel for you. I know you hate me because I'm of royal blood but ignoring that part, you did like me, didn't you? Before you even knew about my family. I'm still that person. I may be a prince but that is not all I am."

Your throat gets tighter and your eyes mist over with tears.

"It doesn't matter. Our relationship started from a lie. And as a matter of fact, I cannot ignore that you're a prince. I had one condition for all suitors and I cannot withdraw it for anyone."

Seungmin swallows, his eyes bloodshot, "Can you at least tell me why you hate Royal blood so much? What did they ever do to you?"

You scoff, "You really wanna know, huh? Does it still matter now? Because I'm never going to get back together with you, Seungmin."

"I want to know."

And so you tell him.

"I hate royals so much because I am one of them. I am a princess. A forgotten one, but the blood of royalty still courses through my veins."

You were a little girl of around four when your now parents had adopted you, more or less. You didn't know who they were or why they were taking you away from your mother and father- the king and queen of Nabha- a country neighboring Taru. You only remember crying till your head hurt. You remember your birth mother crying, standing at the gates of the castle while her emerald crown fell at her feet.

When you turned twelve, your adoptive parents told you the truth of your adoption.

Your adoptive mother worked in the Royal Palace as a governess for royal children while your adoptive father worked as a royal architect. They'd both met in the palace and fell in love, eventually married. You were born to the queen and king a year later. Everything was going well.

But as all stories go, yours had a villain too. Your own birth father- the king. He was the worst kind of person. He was cruel, unjust, abusive and hated you because you were a girl. He had prayed to every God known to mankind for a son, only for him to receive a daughter in return. But he refused to crown you the heir. For the next few years, the king traveled to all neighboring countries , looking for some solution to his problem. And then he found it. An oracle that told him to disown his first born daughter, in order to be blessed with a son.

When the king arranged for your adoption, he didn't even bother consulting his wife. One morning, you were in her arms and the next, you were being taken away to Taru by your adoptive parents.

The Queen killed herself the next morning.

"And that was the day I promised two things to myself: First, I would never set foot back in that country. I made Taru, your country my home. Second, I would never marry a man of royal ancestry. Because I know, no matter what happens, I never want to be associated with royals ever again. Betrayal is all we'll receive at the end under the pretense of a greater good."

Seungmin is speechless at this point. He thought your dislike towards royal lineage was just a matter of preference but now, he understands you. Truly. He understands why you'd take his lies as a sign of betrayal.

"Y/n, I-"

"Save it. You have your answers and I have mine. Leave."

He walks out of the room without a word and the moment you lock the door behind him, he falls on his knees, crying. His heart aches for you. For everything you'd been through and for everything he put you through. He cries for you.

But little does he know, behind the closed door, you're on your knees too, sobbing into your hands. Every single fiber of your being begged you to stop him and you chose to ignore it.

You wonder if you'll ever be able to hate Seungmin like you wish you did.

*

Wendy is lecturing you again this morning, her face tense.

"Y/n, we're leaving this academy forever tomorrow. Can you please give yourself the closure you deserve? Just go and talk to Seungmin. You don't have to hate his guts forever. "

The final exam results are out today, which means that your parents would be coming to pick you up tomorrow evening. You'd be leaving this place and all the bitter-sweet memories associated with it forever. It hurts you a little.

But you had to be strong.

"I've got my closure, Wendy. I promise. Can we talk about something else now?"

Wendy sighs, "Y/n, if this is what you want, then I shall support you. But know that I genuinely will always believe that you and Seungmin were meant to be. Even if you get married and have ten kids with someone else!"

For the first time in months, you allow yourself to laugh at Wendy's stupid statements. She joins in too.

But her words stick with you throughout the day.

That night, after you're done packing most of your stuff, you crash on your bed, a thousand thoughts circling your head.

I genuinely will always believe that you and Seungmin were meant to be. Even if you get married and have kids with someone else!

Even the thought of marrying another man and having his kids nauseated you. Are you really ready to let go of Seungmin, forever?

You had spent a long time trying to forget Prince Kim Seungmin, his voice, his words, his touch, but had you really succeeded?

After today, you might never see him again. Are you ready to live with that regret forever?

The answer to all these questions is no. You are not someone to live wondering the what-ifs.

So you jump out of the bed, lantern in hand and run towards Seungmin’s dorm.

*

"Y/n, did you come here by mistake?" Is his first reaction when he opens his door, hair messy and eyes alert.

You shake your head, "No. I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

He let's you in.

"So, what's up?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks nervous. Like the first time he had taken you out for dinner to grandma's noodle shop.

"I've been thinking. About you and about us. And I.. I'm scared. I will not lie. I do not trust royals, but for some reason, I trust you. I know that there’s a thousand things that could go wrong but I still want to be with you. If you'll have me again"

Seungmin is dumbfounded. Literally. How does one even respond to things like these?

"Seungmin, say something!" You insist.

He forces the words out of his mouth, "I'm g-glad you feel that way."

You scowl, hands on your hips.

"I bare my heart open to you and this is all you have to say? Really? Listen, if you've found someone else in these few weeks then I understand, I really do but please at least-"

He kisses you. He kisses you so beautifully, it pains you to even think that you were willing to give up this. And for what? A horrible father who coincidentally was also of royal blood?

His tongue nudges at your tongue playfully, while his hands are cupping your face, thumbs circling your skin in comfort.

You'd never felt so much peace.

When you pull away, he gently presses his forehead onto yours, "I wouldn't dare find someone else. I assure you, whatever prejudices Nabha had, they do not exist here in Taru. I'm not like your birth father and I will never be. I promise. I will do everything in my power to convince you about it."

And for some reason, as usual, you believe him.

You kiss him again, knowing that if you could go back in time, you would not change a thing. You would let Seungmin easily win the duel of your hearts a thousand times over.

[sparklingchan]

Serendipity || Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: Suggestive, mentions of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant) , mentions of poison, Changbin is sweeter than sugar. Set in the Joseon Era.

Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, fluff with very slight angst.

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

A/N: Hello everyone! Back with another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. I am genuinely in love with this one ngl. King Changbin is a rizzler y'all. Hope you guys have fun reading this <3

Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated)

Here's the link to the masterlist.

Being a woman in this country is not an easy task. Especially when one is a candidate for the position of the country's Queen.

You'd dreamt of this for years, the idea sewn into every thought by your father even since you were child. With time, you'd welcomed the thought without a complaint.

"My lady, the Royal messenger is here." Somi informs you, and your nervousness just goes up by a thousand.

Did you manage to become the Queen and make your father proud? Or did you get disqualified and were now just a daughter of some minister and free to marry any other commoner like yourself?

You run down the hallway and enter the pavillion in front of your house, the colorful banners of the Royal entourage shine under the bright sun.

You straighten your robes and kneel down, head almost touching the ground, as a mark of respect for the King's verdict.

The chief Eunuch opens up the scroll in his hands.

"Please find enclosed the Royal Edict from the King's Court:

I, Seo Changbin, the King of Joseon, have chosen Miss y/n of House Kim as my wife and, by extension, the Queen of our beloved country. I have consulted the three High State Councilors and my mother- the Queen Dowager about the same and we have all unanimously agreed that she would be the best choice for the country as well as the Royal family, owing it all to her wits, beauty and manners.

Congratulations to Miss y/n and her family.

The Royal family would also like to extend an invitation to the bride-to-be to shift into the Detached Palace at the earliest as part of the customary pre wedding ritual. "

It feels as if someone had punched out the air from your lungs, you couldn't speak nor stand, while your parents and brother continuously thanked the Royal Eunuch, accepting all the gifts sent by the Palace for you.

But you couldn't move. You just stayed there, frozen. For life as you had known it has come to an end.

And thereafter begins a new, Royal chapter of your life.

*

"I'm going to miss you, my child."

The days since the Edict pass by in a heartbeat. All the members of your family were busy with packing your belongings while you were busy with mentally preparing yourself to leave your family and house behind forever.

Yes, you'd always wanted to be a Queen. Yes, you'd spent years getting ready for this role. Yet when the time finally comes, it hurts you to think about leaving behind twenty three years of your life.

"I'm going to miss you too, mother." On hearing your words, your mother cries harder.

But as usual, your father shows no emotion. His face is calm.

"Remember, y/n, there are no friends in the Palace other than your husband. You cannot confide in anyone but him. The other concubines will do anything to gain his favor, but you shall always be a step ahead. Be vigilant and loyal. You will make a great Queen." He says. Like the strategist he'd always been.

"Yes, father." You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your mother clinges to your arm.

"We will try and visit you whenever we can. I'm sure his Majesty will allow."

"Yes, of course. You can visit me anytime. The Palace is only a few hours from here."

"Oh, my child! How will I ever live without you!" Another sob tears out from your mother's throat. You hug her with all the love and care you could muster up in that moment.

Your father walks out of the room, hands behind his back and face twisted into a frown.

*

The Detached Palace is to be a temporary residence for the bride-to-be. For over the next thirty days, you would be receiving lessons on various subjects like history, Royal Etiquette, sewing, cooking and most importantly- lessons on intimacy. The last lesson is considered most important, according to Somi, since it allows you to birth as many healthy heirs as possible.

After helping you dress up for the night and setting up your bed, your maids take your leave for the night, only Somi remaining by your side.

"Do you think I'll see the King tomorrow? It's queer but I'd like to know what my future husband looks like, at least."

Somi sighs, "I don't think it's allowed, my lady. I believe you can only see his Majesty on your wedding day. A month from now."

You're oddly disappointed. You had dreamt so many nights of seeing the King, holding his hand, being by his side, yet the King in those dreams often never had a face.

Was it wrong to yearn to look at your future husband's face? Just once?

A subtle knock on your door startles the both of you.

"Yes?"

"My lady, the King is here to see you." Your handmaid almost whispers the words through the door.

With unparalleled urgency, Somi helps you straighten your clothes and rushes off towards the door.

"Your majesty." The maids and Somi greet him with the customary bow, while you purse your lips in a line, head hanging in a subtle bow.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It's so loud, you're sure even the King could hear it.

"Please give us some privacy." The King commands.

And you heart beats faster on hearing his voice for the first time. Gentle, yet authoritative, just like you'd dreamt.

When Somi closes the door behind her, you almost regret wishing to see your future husband. The proximity makes you nervous and you could only hope you'd not faint in front of him.

"My lady, you may rise."

You'd almost forgotten you were still bowing to him. You mentally slap yourself.

"Y-yes, your majesty. " your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak, your eyes still on the ground.

You'd prayed for this moment for years, y/n. Why couldn't you just meet his eyes?

As if sensing your inner conflict, the King takes two long strides towards you and hooks his index finger under your chin, sending a chill down your body.

"My lady, please look at me."

And you do.

And he's like everything you'd ever wished for.

Perfect, like a beautifully crafted sculpture.

His soft brown locks, his rosy lips, the subtle mischief in his eyes. Everything is perfect.

"Y-yes, your majesty. Sorry." You mumble.

The king smiles, rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"You may call me Changbin when we're alone."

You nod.

"I just came to ask if you're finding your new residence comfortable. We both shall be busy with lessons tomorrow onwards so I figured tonight would be a good time to visit my bride."

His bride? His bride?

Your legs feel weak.

"I'm finding it extremely comfortable, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality. "

Changbin let's out a low chuckle, leaning towards you. His lips hover inches above yours. And when he speaks, you feel hot air on your lips, "I told you, y/n. Call me Changbin."

You frantically nod.

"Good. Better be careful next time, my bride."

*

When you wake up the next morning, you're sure you'd dreamt everything that happened last night.

But apparently not.

"The King is a dashing young man." Somi teases as she lathers a concoction of herbs into your hair. "You're lucky, my lady. He seems to be a gentleman."

But you are too caught up in your thoughts to reply to her.

Did the king of Joseon really come all the way to the Detached Palace to see you? What if he's disappointed with how you had reacted? But he shouldn't blame you at all.

You had not been expecting anyone yesterday night, especially not him. But he did come to you. And he touched your chin. If you focus hard enough, you could feel his touch lingering in the area.

"My lady?" Somi clicks her fingers in front of your eyes, "Come back to earth. We have to get you ready for the classes today."

Blushing, you reply, "What classes do I have today?"

You had three classes today: Palace etiquette, literature and what Somi insists most important: lessons on reproduction.

While Palace etiquette mostly includes lesson on how to behave with Royal elders, ministers, maids, the King, literature includes important pieces of literature that are important for a woman.

And lastly, the most dreaded time arrived.

The reproduction lessons.

The tutor shows you all sorts of obnoxious hand movements and some drawings of couples in intimate positions. You feel uncomfortable from the beginning till the end.

A woman at least five decades older than you is teaching you about intimacy? Very awkward, to say the least.

But you heave a sigh of relief when the classes end for the day and you make your way to your room in the Detached palace.

"It's just the first day, Somi and I'm already tired to the bone." You say, kicking your shoes off.

"Well, it's going to be a lifetime of time this now, my lady. And you best be prepared for it."

You reply Somi with silence. But her words make you wonder. If this palace life would ever be less tiring someday? Would it even be worth it?

Perhaps not.

But King Changbin 's face flashes in front of your eyes; his sparkling eyes, mischievous grin, his feather like touch- maybe he is what will make everything worth it.

That night, after your maids get your bed ready while Somi is combing your hair, a familiar announcement echoes through the corridors of the Detached Palace.

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

His smiling face peeps through the doors as your maids hurry out of the room. He wears blue silk robes, and you feel weaker in his presence than you did yesterday.

"Did you miss me, y/n?"

And thus begins a month of secret nightly visits by the King of Joseon to the Detached Palace.

Everyday, you wake up looking forward to the time when King Changbin would come knocking at your doors, always up to some jesting.

Sometimes, he brings you fruits you'd mentioned you liked or he tells you stories from his childhood. At other times, he tells you about that one teacher he will hate till the end of time.

But most times, he spends his time listening to you talk- about everything and everyone, about the skies and gods, about ghosts and afterlife, about favourite foods and literature. After you'd overcome the initial shyness, opening upto Changbin was as easy as breathing, almost natural. Of course, you were still nervous around him, but it's a feeling you'd come to like.

Is this what the writers and poets describe as 'butterflies'?

"Do you think I'll make a good Queen?" You ask him one night. He sits in front you on a cushion, across the room, a position you told him is appropriate for two unwed people (although he did not agree to it initially).

If your nightly shenanigans were to be ever discovered by anyone, you would not want to be found in close proximity to each other even though you were betrothed to each other. He's breaking Palace rules everyday as it is.

He hums, "Of course! I think you'll make a great Queen. You're so good at your lessons already."

"That does not guarantee anything. I might not be good at taking the responsibilities."

"Do you trust my judgment, y/n? I think you'll make a great Queen. And even if you are overwhelmed, I shall always be here."

That night he leaves earlier than he usually does, owing to the fact that tomorrow is the day where his concubines are to be welcomed into the palace. Five of them.

The thought leaves you feeling bitter and dejected, but you make sure to not make those feelings obvious. This is a rule for Kings, to take as many concubines as possible to ensure the continuation of the blood line.

"Don't worry, my lady. Your rank in the palace is above these petty concubines. They will not mess with you." Somi comforts your thoughts the next day.

"But what if Changbin favors them more?"

Somi does not reply to that question.

*

On your 18th birthday, your father had promised to you that he would make you the Queen of this country. He kept his promise because here you are, after five years, getting dressed to be married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your father always insisted that powerful men do not love but Changbin's sparkling eyes always contradicted everything your father had taught. Nevertheless, you know the competitiveness among the concubines for the King's affection is mad. More often than not, even the Queen gets involved in petty fights.

But you try to remove all thoughts of your father and the concubines today. Because today, you are to be married to King Changbin. From today, your name will be written in the historical logs of the Royal family. From today, a new life begins.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Somi asks, "You look worried."

"I'm fine. Just hope the ceremony goes well."

The ceremony does go well and in all honesty, you were not worried about the ceremony itself. You were worried about the aftermath.

The maids guide you to your new palace, and get you dressed in white robes for the wedding night. The night when you will finally meet Changbin as his wife. The butterflies swim around in your belly.

The bed is decorated with flower petals and a few candles are lit. Everything is perfect.

"The King is here." One of your ladies in waiting announce and you get up to greet your husband.

The maids leave the room as the doors slide open and Changbin steps in, also dressed in white robes. He looks dashing, but his signature grin is nowhere to be found.

When the doors close behind him, he walks past you to the bed, the scent of liquor evident in his breath.

"Have you been drinking, your majesty?" You ask him, worried by his odd behavior.

What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he even bother to meet your eyes?

"Changbin." He slurs, wrapping the blankets around him, "Call me Changbin."

He turns away from you and is snoring away in no time.

The butterflies in your stomach flutter around before dropping dead.

*

You did not sleep that night. Even though you were sleeping next to the man you love, you felt lonelier than ever.

Many times during the night, you consider walking out of the bed chamber to the servants quarter so you could talk to Somi. But you couldn't do that. Because you were now the Queen of this country and every single step you take will have its repercussions.

When morning comes, Changbin wakes up in a haste and greets you with a subtle nod and walks out of the chamber in long strides.

You well the tears back. It's your first day as Queen and hadn't he always promised to be there when you were overwhelmed? Had he lied? Or was it Changbin's doppelganger who visited you every night in the Detached palace?

Somi comes in a few minutes later with an excited smile on her face.

When she does your hair for the day, she asks, "So, how was the wedding night?"

You want to answer her truthfully - how cold Changbin had been, how he had not even looked at you let alone touch you, how you think he had changed almost overnight. But you see the prying eyes of the other palace maids and swallow your sadness.

"It was perfect. Like everything I'd ever hoped for."

"He was gentle, I hope." She says through a grin, but it feels like someone pouring alcohol on an open wound.

"Yes. He was."

As part of royal customs, the new bride is supposed to visit the senior most female member of the family and greet her. In your case, the member happens to King Changbin's mother.

Somi dresses you in the most exquisite silks and adorns your hair with the most precious flower but you feel nothing at all when everyone compliments you on the way out of your new Queen's palace.

Your mother in law's palace is a little far from the Queen's palace yet it is as beautiful as any other palace. From inside as well as outside.

"Greetings, your majesty. It is nice to meet you." You bow in front of the Queen Dowager.

The woman-not more than sixty years of age- looks at you with a gentle smile.

"Come in, y/n. Please be at ease."

You're seated in front of her on a cushion while the Queen Dowager's maids serve you breakfast.

"I hope your first day here goes well, my child. Our family is thrilled to have you." She says.

"The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. I am honored to be a part of this family." You say.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Changbin is thrilled to have you or not. Probably not.

The mere thought of yesterday's rejection stings.

"Y/n, truth be told, my son is a quite a troubled man. His father was murdered in front of his eyes. He was made the king when he was only 16 years old. It's been 7 years since then, but the burden only gets worse. I hope you, as a Queen and as his wife, can help him lessen these burdens. Can you do that?" The Queen Dowager asks again, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I will do everything I can to help him." If only he'd let you.

"Good, good. I'm glad. And one more thing, y/n, you know as Queen one of your primary duties is to produce an heir for Changbin's throne. I hope you're working on that, yes?"

Heat reaches your cheeks. If only the poor woman knew what her dear son had done last night. If his behavior continues, perhaps it will be long before the Queen Dowager sees the face of a royal grandchild.

"We are trying, your majesty. We will not disappoint you." You reply, sipping tea from your own cup.

"Great! I shall send all types of herbs and tonics to help you conceive as fast as possible. I shall also draw up a chart after consulting the astrologer..." the Queen Dowager's voice fades into the background as your mind drifts off to the nights in the Detached palace, when Changbin would come and spend all his free time with you, against the rules of the palace. At that time, you had been sure that producing an heir would be a beautiful process, not a chore.

But Changbin does not even treat the thought like a chore.

Did he not love you? Did his Royal duties burden him too much?

When you leave the Queen Dowager's palace, you walk past The King's palace. It is as beautiful and majestic as they say. But you wonder if you'll ever be able to set foot in the same.

As if on cue, you see Concubine Jung walking out of the King's palace, her maids behind her. The butterflies in your stomach burn with jealousy.

She has a smirk on her face when she sees you.

"Eun, did you know there's a rumor around the palace that the King refused to sleep with the Queen last night? Sad, isn't it?" Concubine Jung says.

One of her maids giggle and nod, "Of course! How could the Queen even live with this shame?"

You cry yourself to sleep that night, while Somi does everything in her abilities to soothe you.

Needless to say, nothing worked.

*

"My lady, wake up. The King has invited you to breakfast with him." Somi informs one morning, six months after your wedding.

"Tell him I have a bad stomach bug. I cannot go."

You'd be found dead before sharing a meal with him and that obnoxious Concubine Jung. You'd shared enough meals with them already.

The past months, the King had not visited you even once but often you'd see him walking the gardens with Concubine Jung at his side.

After the first few weeks, you had no tears left to shed anymore so when the rumor came in last month that Concubine Jung might be pregnant, your eyes do not water no matter how much you force yourself to cry.

"I do not wish to congratulate them." You say, true and plain.

"My lady, he's invited only you. Not anyone else."

So you agree. As a last attempt to make your marriage work, even if it's just for your own sake.

Somi dresses you in green robes- The King's favorite. You quickly make your way to his palace, as if someone else would take your place if you didn't hurry. It's sad your thoughts had turned so negative in just half a year in the palace.

Your father had told you the King would take in many lovers during his lifetime, and that being Queen is about having power, not being loved.

But you think he didn't warn you enough. He didn't warn you how lonely it would be to sleep on the cold bed every night, how painful it would be to see the King smile at someone else.

Even if you did wish for a child, how could you produce you a child without Changbin?

"Good morning, your majesty." You say to him when you enter his bed chamber. It smells like cinnamon, a smell he'd often carry with himself back when he used to visit you at the Detached palace. Back when you were sure the king had been in love with you.

"Hello, my Queen. Please have a seat."

The butterflies dance around for a split second.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asks, taking a seat in front of you.

"Yes." Lies. "Thank you for inviting me over."

When the maids leave the both of you alone, his demeanor changes.

"Actually, y/n, I had something to talk to you about." He says, casually, as if he hadn't been hurting you everyday for the past few months.

"What is it?" You ask.

He sighs, "It's mother. Ever since that rumor of Concubine Jung being pregnant spread. She wants the first grandchild to be of the Queen."

His words do not faze you, "How can I help you, Changbin?"

He frowns. Since when had your tone become this melancholic?

"Um, so if I have your consent, I'd like to try for a child tomorrow night. We'll see how that goes, yeah?"

"Okay. I will be honored." You say.

You finish up the food quickly and almost slide the doors open when he grabs your arm from behind.

"Y/n, what is it? Did something happen? Are your parents well?"

"My parents are well enough, thank you for asking." You say, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"Then? What happened? Is it Concubine Jung? Really, you did not have to be jealous of her. She's not pregnant. I can assure you of that. I have not consummated my marriage with any one of the concubines."

His words seem to have an effect on you. Your heart blossoms with hope but you keep your face and voice neutral.

"I am not jealous, Changbin. If one of the concubines get pregnant, I shall wish you both well."

You force your arm out of his grip and walk out the palace, not looking back once.

Changbin's stares at your leaving figure, now worried beyond relief that he might have broken the one person he cared for the most by his pursuits of a greater good.

*

While the past few months for you had been filled with loneliness, for Changbin it was almost the same-if not worse.

The first night of your marriage was filled with as many butterflies for him, as it was for you.

He had fallen in love with you and he wasn't afraid to show the world how much you meant to him. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. And he had all plans to do that on the first night.

But that was until he had overheard a secret conversation between Concubine Jung and her father- Minister Jung.

For all he knew, Minister Jung had always wanted his daughter to be the Queen but being the dim-wit that she was, Concubine Jung could not even get through the first stage.

"Father, it's been two days since I'd been in the palace and that man has not visited me once. He had not even asked for my name the day of the welcoming. What kind of man is he? And you say I am to be Queen!"

"Hush, child. In this palace, even the walls are listening. Be careful. And as far as the position of Queen is concerned, you need not worry. If the King does bed the Queen tonight and she get pregnant, we shall make sure her pregnancy terminates before maturity. I have connections with all sorts of medicine vendors in the country, be assured, she shall never see the face of a child. After we weaken the Queen, we can take her throne as easily!"

Changbin had wanted to laugh at the man's foolish plans but deep down, he was worried as well. For you.

Which is why he pushed you away for so long and kept Concubine Jung close. While she tried everything in her power to seduce him, he refused her under the pretense of keeping an oath of abstinence for a year.

Every time she tried to even hold his hand, Changbin thought of you; your innocent eyes, your talks, your wit, your hands, your beautiful hair. No woman could make him feel like you do.

Changbin's secret informants had confirmed that Minister Jung had not one but two houses full of gold and cash he'd collected as illegal taxes from the local people. He'd also sometimes force husbands to send their wives to him in exchange for money. Even the thought nauseated Changbin.

Every time Concubine Jung visited, he made sure to collect some sort of evidence through her. He even visited her every night and while she snored away, he stole some of her gold jewlery and clothes to get them checked as evidence of the illegal taxes her father had been collecting.

And sure enough, after a few months of spying on her and her father, Changbin had gathered enough evidence by now to expose both of them at the court.

But he realised quickly that Minister Jung had a few tricks up his sleeves as well. The rumor of his daughter's pregnancy would make it difficult for Changbin to expose him easily, and so Changbin waited every night that the rumors would die down so he could run to the Queen's Palace and hug you with all his might. You were not safe unless the father and daughter were deposed.

And for some selfish reasons, Changbin had hoped you'd understand the reason behind his distance. But no woman could find a logical reason behind her lover being absent and it was horribly wrong for him to expect you to do the same.

"Are you stupid?" His friend, the eccentric dancer Minho had asked him.

Changbin had told him how coldly you'd behaved this afternoon when he'd asked you if you wished to try for a child. Most women would giggle and blush. But you were like a statue.

"You push her away for months and make her feel lonely and not loved and what not and you have the audacity to ask her that?"

"Well, yes. Mother had been pressuring me for a child and obviously, even with the pressure, I would never do anything that y/n would not have wanted but I thought it would be a great way to reconnect with her. Even if it didn't end in child making or whatever."

Minho let's out a frustrated groan, "You have to learn so much, Bin. But let's start with this- be honest with her. She's your wife and you ought to tell her everything. Give answers to all her questions and hold her hand if she let's you. Small steps first, a child can wait."

Changbin nods, " Okay, should I go to her right now?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Minho says, earning a slap on the arm from The King of Joseon.

He should be glad he's not being beheaded for calling the King an idiot.

*

You're almost done getting ready for bed when the lady in waiting makes an unexpected announcement .

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

Your heart leaps and the butterflies come alive again only to die down once you realise why he might be there. For a child. Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that why people get married in the first place?

"Y/n." He sighs when he enters the room, almost out of relief. He purses his lips.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" You ask.

Oh, how badly he'd hurt you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, in your voice, in your mannerisms.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I have caused you pain and I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. But I hope you know that I really do love you and only you."

"Then why the distance? Why visit Concubine Jung every night?" You ask, hands on your hips.

The tears that had left you threatened to return again.

And he tells you everything. From the conversation he overheard to how insistently Concubine Jung asked him for a child to how much solid proof he'd collected over the months and how he'd sent those evidences to the Minister of Security, who in turn ensured that by tomorrow the Jungs will out of the palace and be imprisoned for life.

It all makes sense to you now, of course it does. Yet you feel guilty. He'd been trying to protect you, all this while.

"I'm sorry, Changbin. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I only-"

"Don't apologize, y/n. It's me that should apologize. I should have somehow tried to contact you and tell you about everything. I'm-"

"No, no, Please. Don't. You only tried to protect me and-"

"No, y/n, it's all my fault, please-"

Somi overhears the entire conversation through the door, her mind finally relaxing after the misunderstanding had been solved between you and the King. She could no longer stand you being this sad. And she somehow knew King Changbin had his own reasons for his behavior.

She hears soft sounds of kissing through the door and takes it as a sign to move away from the door, and join the other maids waiting outside the palace door. She smiles to herself.

The butterflies burn with passion.

"I do not wish for a child this early. I want to be here like this with you for a while, just y/n and Changbin and maybe two or three years later, we could try for a child. What do you think?"

When he kissed you initially, you half expected this to end up in the bed. But it did. And you're glad it did.

The butterflies bloom more than ever.

You're wrapped in his arms, tightly. The nakedness no longer bothering the either of you.

"I agree. I want to be this close to you every night, not as a Queen or the mother of your child. But as y/n. As your wife."

Changbin draws his face closer to you, pecking you on the lips, "And so you shall, my love."

And so you shall.

[sparklingchan]

hyunjin attending the cartier high jewelry gala dinner

[sparklingchan]

STRAY KIDS ROYAL AU

MASTERLIST

1. Bang Chan- Work in progress

2. Lee Minho- The way I love you

Description: He was a prince who was bound by his duty to the country. She was a harlot, longing for someone to love her. In stolen moments beneath the moonlit city, the two of them dared to dream of a love meant to be.

3. Seo Changbin- Serendipity

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

4. Hwang Hyunjin - Echoes

Description: One day, you’re a college student, barely making it through your finals. And the next, you wake up in a palace, married to the most beautiful man on earth. What the hell is happening?!

5. Han Jisung- Work in progress

6. Lee Felix- Work in progress

7. Kim Seungmin- A Duel of Hearts

Caught in a dilemma of affection, Kim Seungmin, a prince, finds himself drawn to you. There was but one obstacle to his pursuit —you’ve set a single condition for all potential suitors: no royal lineage.

8. Yang Jeongin- Work in progress

[sparklingchan]

Serendipity || Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: Suggestive, mentions of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant) , mentions of poison, Changbin is sweeter than sugar. Set in the Joseon Era.

Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, fluff with very slight angst.

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

A/N: Hello everyone! Back with another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. I am genuinely in love with this one ngl. King Changbin is a rizzler y'all. Hope you guys have fun reading this <3

Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated)

Here's the link to the masterlist.

Being a woman in this country is not an easy task. Especially when one is a candidate for the position of the country's Queen.

You'd dreamt of this for years, the idea sewn into every thought by your father even since you were child. With time, you'd welcomed the thought without a complaint.

"My lady, the Royal messenger is here." Somi informs you, and your nervousness just goes up by a thousand.

Did you manage to become the Queen and make your father proud? Or did you get disqualified and were now just a daughter of some minister and free to marry any other commoner like yourself?

You run down the hallway and enter the pavillion in front of your house, the colorful banners of the Royal entourage shine under the bright sun.

You straighten your robes and kneel down, head almost touching the ground, as a mark of respect for the King's verdict.

The chief Eunuch opens up the scroll in his hands.

"Please find enclosed the Royal Edict from the King's Court:

I, Seo Changbin, the King of Joseon, have chosen Miss y/n of House Kim as my wife and, by extension, the Queen of our beloved country. I have consulted the three High State Councilors and my mother- the Queen Dowager about the same and we have all unanimously agreed that she would be the best choice for the country as well as the Royal family, owing it all to her wits, beauty and manners.

Congratulations to Miss y/n and her family.

The Royal family would also like to extend an invitation to the bride-to-be to shift into the Detached Palace at the earliest as part of the customary pre wedding ritual. "

It feels as if someone had punched out the air from your lungs, you couldn't speak nor stand, while your parents and brother continuously thanked the Royal Eunuch, accepting all the gifts sent by the Palace for you.

But you couldn't move. You just stayed there, frozen. For life as you had known it has come to an end.

And thereafter begins a new, Royal chapter of your life.

*

"I'm going to miss you, my child."

The days since the Edict pass by in a heartbeat. All the members of your family were busy with packing your belongings while you were busy with mentally preparing yourself to leave your family and house behind forever.

Yes, you'd always wanted to be a Queen. Yes, you'd spent years getting ready for this role. Yet when the time finally comes, it hurts you to think about leaving behind twenty three years of your life.

"I'm going to miss you too, mother." On hearing your words, your mother cries harder.

But as usual, your father shows no emotion. His face is calm.

"Remember, y/n, there are no friends in the Palace other than your husband. You cannot confide in anyone but him. The other concubines will do anything to gain his favor, but you shall always be a step ahead. Be vigilant and loyal. You will make a great Queen." He says. Like the strategist he'd always been.

"Yes, father." You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your mother clinges to your arm.

"We will try and visit you whenever we can. I'm sure his Majesty will allow."

"Yes, of course. You can visit me anytime. The Palace is only a few hours from here."

"Oh, my child! How will I ever live without you!" Another sob tears out from your mother's throat. You hug her with all the love and care you could muster up in that moment.

Your father walks out of the room, hands behind his back and face twisted into a frown.

*

The Detached Palace is to be a temporary residence for the bride-to-be. For over the next thirty days, you would be receiving lessons on various subjects like history, Royal Etiquette, sewing, cooking and most importantly- lessons on intimacy. The last lesson is considered most important, according to Somi, since it allows you to birth as many healthy heirs as possible.

After helping you dress up for the night and setting up your bed, your maids take your leave for the night, only Somi remaining by your side.

"Do you think I'll see the King tomorrow? It's queer but I'd like to know what my future husband looks like, at least."

Somi sighs, "I don't think it's allowed, my lady. I believe you can only see his Majesty on your wedding day. A month from now."

You're oddly disappointed. You had dreamt so many nights of seeing the King, holding his hand, being by his side, yet the King in those dreams often never had a face.

Was it wrong to yearn to look at your future husband's face? Just once?

A subtle knock on your door startles the both of you.

"Yes?"

"My lady, the King is here to see you." Your handmaid almost whispers the words through the door.

With unparalleled urgency, Somi helps you straighten your clothes and rushes off towards the door.

"Your majesty." The maids and Somi greet him with the customary bow, while you purse your lips in a line, head hanging in a subtle bow.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It's so loud, you're sure even the King could hear it.

"Please give us some privacy." The King commands.

And you heart beats faster on hearing his voice for the first time. Gentle, yet authoritative, just like you'd dreamt.

When Somi closes the door behind her, you almost regret wishing to see your future husband. The proximity makes you nervous and you could only hope you'd not faint in front of him.

"My lady, you may rise."

You'd almost forgotten you were still bowing to him. You mentally slap yourself.

"Y-yes, your majesty. " your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak, your eyes still on the ground.

You'd prayed for this moment for years, y/n. Why couldn't you just meet his eyes?

As if sensing your inner conflict, the King takes two long strides towards you and hooks his index finger under your chin, sending a chill down your body.

"My lady, please look at me."

And you do.

And he's like everything you'd ever wished for.

Perfect, like a beautifully crafted sculpture.

His soft brown locks, his rosy lips, the subtle mischief in his eyes. Everything is perfect.

"Y-yes, your majesty. Sorry." You mumble.

The king smiles, rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"You may call me Changbin when we're alone."

You nod.

"I just came to ask if you're finding your new residence comfortable. We both shall be busy with lessons tomorrow onwards so I figured tonight would be a good time to visit my bride."

His bride? His bride?

Your legs feel weak.

"I'm finding it extremely comfortable, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality. "

Changbin let's out a low chuckle, leaning towards you. His lips hover inches above yours. And when he speaks, you feel hot air on your lips, "I told you, y/n. Call me Changbin."

You frantically nod.

"Good. Better be careful next time, my bride."

*

When you wake up the next morning, you're sure you'd dreamt everything that happened last night.

But apparently not.

"The King is a dashing young man." Somi teases as she lathers a concoction of herbs into your hair. "You're lucky, my lady. He seems to be a gentleman."

But you are too caught up in your thoughts to reply to her.

Did the king of Joseon really come all the way to the Detached Palace to see you? What if he's disappointed with how you had reacted? But he shouldn't blame you at all.

You had not been expecting anyone yesterday night, especially not him. But he did come to you. And he touched your chin. If you focus hard enough, you could feel his touch lingering in the area.

"My lady?" Somi clicks her fingers in front of your eyes, "Come back to earth. We have to get you ready for the classes today."

Blushing, you reply, "What classes do I have today?"

You had three classes today: Palace etiquette, literature and what Somi insists most important: lessons on reproduction.

While Palace etiquette mostly includes lesson on how to behave with Royal elders, ministers, maids, the King, literature includes important pieces of literature that are important for a woman.

And lastly, the most dreaded time arrived.

The reproduction lessons.

The tutor shows you all sorts of obnoxious hand movements and some drawings of couples in intimate positions. You feel uncomfortable from the beginning till the end.

A woman at least five decades older than you is teaching you about intimacy? Very awkward, to say the least.

But you heave a sigh of relief when the classes end for the day and you make your way to your room in the Detached palace.

"It's just the first day, Somi and I'm already tired to the bone." You say, kicking your shoes off.

"Well, it's going to be a lifetime of time this now, my lady. And you best be prepared for it."

You reply Somi with silence. But her words make you wonder. If this palace life would ever be less tiring someday? Would it even be worth it?

Perhaps not.

But King Changbin 's face flashes in front of your eyes; his sparkling eyes, mischievous grin, his feather like touch- maybe he is what will make everything worth it.

That night, after your maids get your bed ready while Somi is combing your hair, a familiar announcement echoes through the corridors of the Detached Palace.

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

His smiling face peeps through the doors as your maids hurry out of the room. He wears blue silk robes, and you feel weaker in his presence than you did yesterday.

"Did you miss me, y/n?"

And thus begins a month of secret nightly visits by the King of Joseon to the Detached Palace.

Everyday, you wake up looking forward to the time when King Changbin would come knocking at your doors, always up to some jesting.

Sometimes, he brings you fruits you'd mentioned you liked or he tells you stories from his childhood. At other times, he tells you about that one teacher he will hate till the end of time.

But most times, he spends his time listening to you talk- about everything and everyone, about the skies and gods, about ghosts and afterlife, about favourite foods and literature. After you'd overcome the initial shyness, opening upto Changbin was as easy as breathing, almost natural. Of course, you were still nervous around him, but it's a feeling you'd come to like.

Is this what the writers and poets describe as 'butterflies'?

"Do you think I'll make a good Queen?" You ask him one night. He sits in front you on a cushion, across the room, a position you told him is appropriate for two unwed people (although he did not agree to it initially).

If your nightly shenanigans were to be ever discovered by anyone, you would not want to be found in close proximity to each other even though you were betrothed to each other. He's breaking Palace rules everyday as it is.

He hums, "Of course! I think you'll make a great Queen. You're so good at your lessons already."

"That does not guarantee anything. I might not be good at taking the responsibilities."

"Do you trust my judgment, y/n? I think you'll make a great Queen. And even if you are overwhelmed, I shall always be here."

That night he leaves earlier than he usually does, owing to the fact that tomorrow is the day where his concubines are to be welcomed into the palace. Five of them.

The thought leaves you feeling bitter and dejected, but you make sure to not make those feelings obvious. This is a rule for Kings, to take as many concubines as possible to ensure the continuation of the blood line.

"Don't worry, my lady. Your rank in the palace is above these petty concubines. They will not mess with you." Somi comforts your thoughts the next day.

"But what if Changbin favors them more?"

Somi does not reply to that question.

*

On your 18th birthday, your father had promised to you that he would make you the Queen of this country. He kept his promise because here you are, after five years, getting dressed to be married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your father always insisted that powerful men do not love but Changbin's sparkling eyes always contradicted everything your father had taught. Nevertheless, you know the competitiveness among the concubines for the King's affection is mad. More often than not, even the Queen gets involved in petty fights.

But you try to remove all thoughts of your father and the concubines today. Because today, you are to be married to King Changbin. From today, your name will be written in the historical logs of the Royal family. From today, a new life begins.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Somi asks, "You look worried."

"I'm fine. Just hope the ceremony goes well."

The ceremony does go well and in all honesty, you were not worried about the ceremony itself. You were worried about the aftermath.

The maids guide you to your new palace, and get you dressed in white robes for the wedding night. The night when you will finally meet Changbin as his wife. The butterflies swim around in your belly.

The bed is decorated with flower petals and a few candles are lit. Everything is perfect.

"The King is here." One of your ladies in waiting announce and you get up to greet your husband.

The maids leave the room as the doors slide open and Changbin steps in, also dressed in white robes. He looks dashing, but his signature grin is nowhere to be found.

When the doors close behind him, he walks past you to the bed, the scent of liquor evident in his breath.

"Have you been drinking, your majesty?" You ask him, worried by his odd behavior.

What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he even bother to meet your eyes?

"Changbin." He slurs, wrapping the blankets around him, "Call me Changbin."

He turns away from you and is snoring away in no time.

The butterflies in your stomach flutter around before dropping dead.

*

You did not sleep that night. Even though you were sleeping next to the man you love, you felt lonelier than ever.

Many times during the night, you consider walking out of the bed chamber to the servants quarter so you could talk to Somi. But you couldn't do that. Because you were now the Queen of this country and every single step you take will have its repercussions.

When morning comes, Changbin wakes up in a haste and greets you with a subtle nod and walks out of the chamber in long strides.

You well the tears back. It's your first day as Queen and hadn't he always promised to be there when you were overwhelmed? Had he lied? Or was it Changbin's doppelganger who visited you every night in the Detached palace?

Somi comes in a few minutes later with an excited smile on her face.

When she does your hair for the day, she asks, "So, how was the wedding night?"

You want to answer her truthfully - how cold Changbin had been, how he had not even looked at you let alone touch you, how you think he had changed almost overnight. But you see the prying eyes of the other palace maids and swallow your sadness.

"It was perfect. Like everything I'd ever hoped for."

"He was gentle, I hope." She says through a grin, but it feels like someone pouring alcohol on an open wound.

"Yes. He was."

As part of royal customs, the new bride is supposed to visit the senior most female member of the family and greet her. In your case, the member happens to King Changbin's mother.

Somi dresses you in the most exquisite silks and adorns your hair with the most precious flower but you feel nothing at all when everyone compliments you on the way out of your new Queen's palace.

Your mother in law's palace is a little far from the Queen's palace yet it is as beautiful as any other palace. From inside as well as outside.

"Greetings, your majesty. It is nice to meet you." You bow in front of the Queen Dowager.

The woman-not more than sixty years of age- looks at you with a gentle smile.

"Come in, y/n. Please be at ease."

You're seated in front of her on a cushion while the Queen Dowager's maids serve you breakfast.

"I hope your first day here goes well, my child. Our family is thrilled to have you." She says.

"The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. I am honored to be a part of this family." You say.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Changbin is thrilled to have you or not. Probably not.

The mere thought of yesterday's rejection stings.

"Y/n, truth be told, my son is a quite a troubled man. His father was murdered in front of his eyes. He was made the king when he was only 16 years old. It's been 7 years since then, but the burden only gets worse. I hope you, as a Queen and as his wife, can help him lessen these burdens. Can you do that?" The Queen Dowager asks again, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I will do everything I can to help him." If only he'd let you.

"Good, good. I'm glad. And one more thing, y/n, you know as Queen one of your primary duties is to produce an heir for Changbin's throne. I hope you're working on that, yes?"

Heat reaches your cheeks. If only the poor woman knew what her dear son had done last night. If his behavior continues, perhaps it will be long before the Queen Dowager sees the face of a royal grandchild.

"We are trying, your majesty. We will not disappoint you." You reply, sipping tea from your own cup.

"Great! I shall send all types of herbs and tonics to help you conceive as fast as possible. I shall also draw up a chart after consulting the astrologer..." the Queen Dowager's voice fades into the background as your mind drifts off to the nights in the Detached palace, when Changbin would come and spend all his free time with you, against the rules of the palace. At that time, you had been sure that producing an heir would be a beautiful process, not a chore.

But Changbin does not even treat the thought like a chore.

Did he not love you? Did his Royal duties burden him too much?

When you leave the Queen Dowager's palace, you walk past The King's palace. It is as beautiful and majestic as they say. But you wonder if you'll ever be able to set foot in the same.

As if on cue, you see Concubine Jung walking out of the King's palace, her maids behind her. The butterflies in your stomach burn with jealousy.

She has a smirk on her face when she sees you.

"Eun, did you know there's a rumor around the palace that the King refused to sleep with the Queen last night? Sad, isn't it?" Concubine Jung says.

One of her maids giggle and nod, "Of course! How could the Queen even live with this shame?"

You cry yourself to sleep that night, while Somi does everything in her abilities to soothe you.

Needless to say, nothing worked.

*

"My lady, wake up. The King has invited you to breakfast with him." Somi informs one morning, six months after your wedding.

"Tell him I have a bad stomach bug. I cannot go."

You'd be found dead before sharing a meal with him and that obnoxious Concubine Jung. You'd shared enough meals with them already.

The past months, the King had not visited you even once but often you'd see him walking the gardens with Concubine Jung at his side.

After the first few weeks, you had no tears left to shed anymore so when the rumor came in last month that Concubine Jung might be pregnant, your eyes do not water no matter how much you force yourself to cry.

"I do not wish to congratulate them." You say, true and plain.

"My lady, he's invited only you. Not anyone else."

So you agree. As a last attempt to make your marriage work, even if it's just for your own sake.

Somi dresses you in green robes- The King's favorite. You quickly make your way to his palace, as if someone else would take your place if you didn't hurry. It's sad your thoughts had turned so negative in just half a year in the palace.

Your father had told you the King would take in many lovers during his lifetime, and that being Queen is about having power, not being loved.

But you think he didn't warn you enough. He didn't warn you how lonely it would be to sleep on the cold bed every night, how painful it would be to see the King smile at someone else.

Even if you did wish for a child, how could you produce you a child without Changbin?

"Good morning, your majesty." You say to him when you enter his bed chamber. It smells like cinnamon, a smell he'd often carry with himself back when he used to visit you at the Detached palace. Back when you were sure the king had been in love with you.

"Hello, my Queen. Please have a seat."

The butterflies dance around for a split second.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asks, taking a seat in front of you.

"Yes." Lies. "Thank you for inviting me over."

When the maids leave the both of you alone, his demeanor changes.

"Actually, y/n, I had something to talk to you about." He says, casually, as if he hadn't been hurting you everyday for the past few months.

"What is it?" You ask.

He sighs, "It's mother. Ever since that rumor of Concubine Jung being pregnant spread. She wants the first grandchild to be of the Queen."

His words do not faze you, "How can I help you, Changbin?"

He frowns. Since when had your tone become this melancholic?

"Um, so if I have your consent, I'd like to try for a child tomorrow night. We'll see how that goes, yeah?"

"Okay. I will be honored." You say.

You finish up the food quickly and almost slide the doors open when he grabs your arm from behind.

"Y/n, what is it? Did something happen? Are your parents well?"

"My parents are well enough, thank you for asking." You say, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"Then? What happened? Is it Concubine Jung? Really, you did not have to be jealous of her. She's not pregnant. I can assure you of that. I have not consummated my marriage with any one of the concubines."

His words seem to have an effect on you. Your heart blossoms with hope but you keep your face and voice neutral.

"I am not jealous, Changbin. If one of the concubines get pregnant, I shall wish you both well."

You force your arm out of his grip and walk out the palace, not looking back once.

Changbin's stares at your leaving figure, now worried beyond relief that he might have broken the one person he cared for the most by his pursuits of a greater good.

*

While the past few months for you had been filled with loneliness, for Changbin it was almost the same-if not worse.

The first night of your marriage was filled with as many butterflies for him, as it was for you.

He had fallen in love with you and he wasn't afraid to show the world how much you meant to him. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. And he had all plans to do that on the first night.

But that was until he had overheard a secret conversation between Concubine Jung and her father- Minister Jung.

For all he knew, Minister Jung had always wanted his daughter to be the Queen but being the dim-wit that she was, Concubine Jung could not even get through the first stage.

"Father, it's been two days since I'd been in the palace and that man has not visited me once. He had not even asked for my name the day of the welcoming. What kind of man is he? And you say I am to be Queen!"

"Hush, child. In this palace, even the walls are listening. Be careful. And as far as the position of Queen is concerned, you need not worry. If the King does bed the Queen tonight and she get pregnant, we shall make sure her pregnancy terminates before maturity. I have connections with all sorts of medicine vendors in the country, be assured, she shall never see the face of a child. After we weaken the Queen, we can take her throne as easily!"

Changbin had wanted to laugh at the man's foolish plans but deep down, he was worried as well. For you.

Which is why he pushed you away for so long and kept Concubine Jung close. While she tried everything in her power to seduce him, he refused her under the pretense of keeping an oath of abstinence for a year.

Every time she tried to even hold his hand, Changbin thought of you; your innocent eyes, your talks, your wit, your hands, your beautiful hair. No woman could make him feel like you do.

Changbin's secret informants had confirmed that Minister Jung had not one but two houses full of gold and cash he'd collected as illegal taxes from the local people. He'd also sometimes force husbands to send their wives to him in exchange for money. Even the thought nauseated Changbin.

Every time Concubine Jung visited, he made sure to collect some sort of evidence through her. He even visited her every night and while she snored away, he stole some of her gold jewlery and clothes to get them checked as evidence of the illegal taxes her father had been collecting.

And sure enough, after a few months of spying on her and her father, Changbin had gathered enough evidence by now to expose both of them at the court.

But he realised quickly that Minister Jung had a few tricks up his sleeves as well. The rumor of his daughter's pregnancy would make it difficult for Changbin to expose him easily, and so Changbin waited every night that the rumors would die down so he could run to the Queen's Palace and hug you with all his might. You were not safe unless the father and daughter were deposed.

And for some selfish reasons, Changbin had hoped you'd understand the reason behind his distance. But no woman could find a logical reason behind her lover being absent and it was horribly wrong for him to expect you to do the same.

"Are you stupid?" His friend, the eccentric dancer Minho had asked him.

Changbin had told him how coldly you'd behaved this afternoon when he'd asked you if you wished to try for a child. Most women would giggle and blush. But you were like a statue.

"You push her away for months and make her feel lonely and not loved and what not and you have the audacity to ask her that?"

"Well, yes. Mother had been pressuring me for a child and obviously, even with the pressure, I would never do anything that y/n would not have wanted but I thought it would be a great way to reconnect with her. Even if it didn't end in child making or whatever."

Minho let's out a frustrated groan, "You have to learn so much, Bin. But let's start with this- be honest with her. She's your wife and you ought to tell her everything. Give answers to all her questions and hold her hand if she let's you. Small steps first, a child can wait."

Changbin nods, " Okay, should I go to her right now?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Minho says, earning a slap on the arm from The King of Joseon.

He should be glad he's not being beheaded for calling the King an idiot.

*

You're almost done getting ready for bed when the lady in waiting makes an unexpected announcement .

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

Your heart leaps and the butterflies come alive again only to die down once you realise why he might be there. For a child. Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that why people get married in the first place?

"Y/n." He sighs when he enters the room, almost out of relief. He purses his lips.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" You ask.

Oh, how badly he'd hurt you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, in your voice, in your mannerisms.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I have caused you pain and I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. But I hope you know that I really do love you and only you."

"Then why the distance? Why visit Concubine Jung every night?" You ask, hands on your hips.

The tears that had left you threatened to return again.

And he tells you everything. From the conversation he overheard to how insistently Concubine Jung asked him for a child to how much solid proof he'd collected over the months and how he'd sent those evidences to the Minister of Security, who in turn ensured that by tomorrow the Jungs will out of the palace and be imprisoned for life.

It all makes sense to you now, of course it does. Yet you feel guilty. He'd been trying to protect you, all this while.

"I'm sorry, Changbin. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I only-"

"Don't apologize, y/n. It's me that should apologize. I should have somehow tried to contact you and tell you about everything. I'm-"

"No, no, Please. Don't. You only tried to protect me and-"

"No, y/n, it's all my fault, please-"

Somi overhears the entire conversation through the door, her mind finally relaxing after the misunderstanding had been solved between you and the King. She could no longer stand you being this sad. And she somehow knew King Changbin had his own reasons for his behavior.

She hears soft sounds of kissing through the door and takes it as a sign to move away from the door, and join the other maids waiting outside the palace door. She smiles to herself.

The butterflies burn with passion.

"I do not wish for a child this early. I want to be here like this with you for a while, just y/n and Changbin and maybe two or three years later, we could try for a child. What do you think?"

When he kissed you initially, you half expected this to end up in the bed. But it did. And you're glad it did.

The butterflies bloom more than ever.

You're wrapped in his arms, tightly. The nakedness no longer bothering the either of you.

"I agree. I want to be this close to you every night, not as a Queen or the mother of your child. But as y/n. As your wife."

Changbin draws his face closer to you, pecking you on the lips, "And so you shall, my love."

And so you shall.