#Joshua x reader au

[hansvll]

⌗ 𝓑𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝓘𝐒 ────── 𝓡𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝓗𝐄𝐑𝐄

( 세븐틴 ) ─── surprise! 95z are finally home.. warnings. mentions of kids & a robber in jeonghan’s ss, && military is mentioned in joshua’s ss

authors note. please tell me u get the title idea 😓😓 anw might start posting for svt too :p

[jeonride]

joshua reading list / fic recs !

don't forget to like + reblog the fics that you like to support the authors <3

navigation

FICS ! ✧*

Hoax (smut, angst, mafia!shua, strangers to lovers) by @lovelyhan

Isohel (modern royalty au, prince!shua, smut, angst) by @toruro

Eyes Meeting, Hearts Apart (mild angst, prince!shua, smut) by @lovelyhan

Mr. Nice Guy (smut, neighbor!shua) by @toruro

Under The Rose (fluff, smut, frenemies childhood to lovers, kinda historical au) by @just-come-baek

Honeyduke Lovers (hogwarts au, unrequited love, hufflepuff!shua x slytherin!reader. yep this is the story of how slytherin becomes undyingly soft for hufflepuff) by @http-mianhae

Steamy (smut, next door neighbor!shua) by @duhnova

written by @onlyhuis :

Cranberry Concoctions (smut, a little angst & fluff, 1920s, prohibition au)

Leaning on The Everlasting Arms (angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au)

Fine Line (fluff, smut, angst, figure skater!shua) by @heartkyeom

Prove it, You Won't (fluff, angst, humor, tattoo artist au) by @leejungchans

Oceans and Engines (fluff, exes to lovers, a lil' angst) by @renjunphile

Lover Boy (regency era romance, commoner!shua x aristocrat fem!reader, historical drama) by @starlightxsvt

Gentleman (angst, fluff, sugar daddy au) by @starlightxsvt

Wildest Dreams (bestfriends to lovers, fluff, humor) by @viastro

The Type (smut, fluff, college boyfriend!shua) by @bitchlessdino

Your Gentleman (smut, camboy!shua) by @wonwussy

Fighting for Your Love (smut, threesome ft. jeonghan) by @rubyreduji

Half Past Five High The Series (ft. mingyu, smut, angst, minor fluff, rich people au, love triangle, cheating. supermodel!gyu, photographer!shua x influencer fem!reader) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Paint Me Numbers (fluff, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!shua) by @chocosvt

Domino (fluff, crack, smut) by @universecorp

Nasty (smut, fluff) by @soonigiri

Menace (smut) by @jeonghantis

You're All That Matters (fluff, bf!shua) by @heartsfromia

Be My Date (fluff, minor angst) by @heartsfromia

Mine (smut) by @luxekook

Meant for Each Other (fluff, soulmate au) by @slytherinshua

Golden Hour (best friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life, summer vacation au) by @dkfile

An Interview with An Angel (meet cute, fluff, reporter!shua) by @hannyoontify

Our Fairytale (smut, fluff) by @zuhacore

DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*

at every table, i'll save you a seat (fluff) by @suhnshinehaos

bad habits (exes with benefits, smut, mild angst) by @lovelyhan

pretty when you cry (smut) by @cheolhub

quiet time (smut) by @number1mingyustan

acouasm (smut) by @angelwoozi

when you can't sleep but shua is right next to you (fluff, comfort) by @wonwoonlight

one-up (smut) by @sluttywonwoo

golden boy's mercy (smut) by @bitchlessdino

17. 12 (smut) by @lovelyhan

14. 13 (smut) by @toruro

after a long day (smut) by @sevngmin148

title (fluff, established relationship, ceo) by @leejungchans

relax (fluff, smut, established relationship) by @playmetheclassics

shower (fluff) @husbandhannie

stay up (fluff) by @bitterie-sweetie

about you : valentine's special (fluff, angst, friends to lovers) by @shuawonie

fruit (smut) by @onlyseokmins

i love you, always (fluff, comfort) by @monnn

10.32 (fluff, bf!shua) by @elysianeclipxe

clingy (fluff) and smitten (fluff) by @slytherinshua

we won't change because we're engraved in each other's heart (fluff) by @wooahaes

[itssunshinetoday]

~ the boyfriend pictures series

boyfriend pictures

[fantasyescapes17]

In Pursuit of Wedded Bliss (Updated Masterlist)

A Seventeen Regency!AU Series

It is the season- and London is full of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, waiting to be swept up in a whirlwind of romance, passion and matrimony as they each fight their own battles for happiness in London's elite society.

BEFORE YOU READ:

All installments are interlinked and take place in the same universe. The timeline can be confusing, especially if you read out of order. These are listed in recommended reading order.

The combined series word count is around 100k. Don't start reading right before an exam.

There are seven members covered in the full installments. I will not be doing full installments for the other 6 members.

Happy reading!

------------------------------------------------------------

Patience: Choi Seungcheol (complete!)

An elaborate charade- that is what your life has been for these past few years, and it has taken the help of more than one person to balance your delicate lies and secrets. Now entering your final season as an eligible young lady seeking wedded bliss, will you be able to keep up the act in order to achieve your dreams?

Part 1 Part 2

-----------------------------------------------------

2. Candle: Yoon Jeonghan (complete!)

You have always received the best of everything life has to offer: be it education, family, fortune or happiness. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan- one of the ton's renowned villains- cannot possibly bring you happiness of any kind, never mind wedded bliss. But can you evade Jeonghan's charms? Or will you find yourself falling victim to this clever rogue?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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3. Manners: Joshua Hong (complete!)

Viscount Joshua Hong is by far the most eligible bachelor in London. Rich, handsome, and renowned for his excellent manners and refined tastes. Young woman would kill for the chance to be the Viscount's chosen bride. But nobody can quite determine which of the young ladies he prefers, and you are beginning to have your doubts. Is the Viscount really as gentlemanly as the ton seems to think?

Part 1 Part 2

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4. Scandal: Jeon Wonwoo (complete!)

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) was beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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5. Wings: Kim Mingyu (complete!)

Your debut in society was as spectacular as one could be, but nobody had prepared you for what came afterward. When you find yourself overwhelmed during your very first season and unable to keep up with the rat race to secure yourself an eligible husband, a curious mentor appears- in the form of notorious flirt and self-proclaimed rake, Mr. Kim Mingyu.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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6. Closed Doors: Kwon Soonyoung (complete!)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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7. Luck: Lee Chan (coming soon!)

A mixture of hard work and sheer good fortune had landed you a coveted position as the governess for Viscountess Hong's little sisters. But when the Viscountess' notorious younger brother returns from his time at Oxford, you find yourself treading dangerous waters. Mr. Lee Chan- with his boyish smile and passion for horses- seems determined to make your job very difficult indeed.

[lololololchips]

Hi I loved the recent sexting gone wrong it was so funny 😭

Just wondering if you're willing to do like a next part where the actual boyfriend texts you back after seeing what happened ?

i’m so sorry this took forever 😭 BUT HERE IT IS HEHE HOPE U LIKE IT:))

here is pt1 to this i recommend y’all read it to understand this a bit better!

sexting gone wrong pt2 || SEVENTEEN

genre: one shot au, fake texts, nsfw, humorous

warnings: kys jokes, nsfw topics, cursing, fem pronouns, 18+ jokes (?)

[boorines]

what pet names (if any) do you think the svt members would use? ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

this is such a cute ask ahh!! sorry it took literal ages to get to, i’ve had the worst case of writer’s block and i’m slowly working through my reqs!

-

Pet names seventeen would call you

—

SEUNGCHEOL

doll. you’re his world and he’d spoil you to no end. every thing you’d want would become yours and you’d never have to lift a finger. he’d dote on you so much and all he’d expect in return is your love, you’d be his lovely doll.

“look at what i got, doll. you like it? do you think it’s pretty? it’s for you”

JEONGHAN

angel. of course, the angel needs his twin flame. you’d be his angel and his partner in crime. you both have your mischievous, devilish streaks too, so the nickname would be perfect. to him you’re angelic and could do no wrong, even when you’ve baked a cake but won’t let him touch it yet.

“angel, you’re being so mean. just one look? i promise i won’t take a bite”

JOSHUA

love. simple and sweet. he prefers to use ‘love’ because it’s exactly what he feels for you and he wants you to know it, remember it all the time. you’re his love and he wants to shower you in it as much as he can.

“mm, i’ll be there in 10. of course, love, i’ll pick it up for you, i love you, too”

JUN

beautiful. jun is in awe of you. you’re breathtaking to him and he’s going to make sure you know it. he’d call you beautiful so often it becomes a nickname for you. neither of you realise when it happens until you’re being called beautiful for the 5th time in the day.

“there’s a fresh towel on the bed for you, beautiful. you don’t need to find a new one”

SOONYOUNG

babe. simple but sweet. he also uses your name often, he says it softly and gently, like it’s his favorite word. he’ll still follow up with a ‘babe’, though. and if he’s within arm’s distance of you he’s definitely punctuating his sentence with a squeeze of your hand or waist.

“babe, we can do the laundry later, it’s so warm in bed, stay just 5 more minutes? please…”

WONWOO

pretty. to wonwoo, you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. it comes so naturally to him, especially when you are the embodiment of the word in his eyes. you could be sat on the couch flicking through apps mindlessly when you’ll hear him call for you. whether it’s to ask for help or just for the sake of having your attention on him.

“want to play a couple of games later, pretty? or watch a movie? what are you feeling?”

JIHOON

your name. jihoon has a way with words, he pours meaning into every single one he speaks. so to him nothing comes close to the love and meaning he puts into saying your name. it would be tender and loving and it would be yours.

“do they fit well, does it pinch at your ankle? they’re very pretty, ____. i’ll get them for you”

MINGHAO

gorgeous. an almost sensual nickname that rolls off his tongue so easily. it shows just how lucky he feels to have you and it makes your cheeks heat up every time you hear it. he particularly loves seeing you flustered when he springs it on you when you least expect it.

“you’re at lunch with your friends today, right? need me to drop you and pick you up after, gorgeous?”

MINGYU

baby. a classic name for a hopeless romantic. something about you being his baby makes him melt and he just can’t get enough of saying it. you feel so cherished when he uses it and he loves the rush of warmth and pride he gets calling you it. often comes with a sudden back hug, maybe even a pout if he’s wanting your attention.

“please, baby, can we watch just one more episode. it’s only 2am… baby…”

SEOKMIN

buttercup. this is SO seokmin. you’re delicate and pretty like a flower to him. and combined with the fact that he’d love being called sunshine or honey? you both are so sunny and bright together.

“i found them! i found the keys, oh my god they were under the cabinet, buttercup. can you believe that?”

SEUNGKWAN

my sweetheart. seungkwan would use ‘my’ a lot, he would love the intimacy as well as the slight possessiveness that comes with the word. my love, my darling, etc. he’d be a sucker for calling you his and showing you off to everyone that way.

“you’re always the most beautiful in the room. let me introduce you to everyone, my sweetheart, hm?”

VERNON

babe. also keeps it simple. he’s more about subtle affection and wants his actions to speak louder than his words. a soft ‘babe’ accompanied by a gentle tap on your knee to wake you up when you doze off on the sofa, another call while he wordlessly points out something on his phone. he’s all about showing, not telling.

“babe, how many eggs should i put in for two ramen packs?”

CHAN

darling. he’s so affectionate with you it’s unbelievable. while he isn’t one for over the top romance, his affection comes through in so many other ways. when he wordlessly refills glasses of water for you throughout the day or throws a towel in the dryer so it’s nice and warm for you after your shower.

“i’ll tidy up, darling. you get ready for bed, yeah?”

[shuastar]

ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ (JWW)

ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴋᴇ!ᴡᴏɴᴡᴏᴏ x ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴄʜᴇꜱꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴄ: 8.2k (swear it doesnt get any shorter....) ᴀ/ɴ: ᴏᴍɢ ɪ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ᴀɢᴏ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ㅠㅠ ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ 1ꜱᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ (ʟᴏɴɢ) ᴡᴏɴᴡᴏᴏ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ,,, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ᴘʟꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ <3 ꜱᴏ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ; ɴᴇxᴛ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2)

The honeyed spring air only proved to prod at your deep, growing, carnal fury at the scene in front of you. The wooden stilts of your fan dug further and further into the expensive lace of your thin sheer gloves, leaving bright red lines in its wake. As you stared at the traitorous scene in front of you, you felt as if your entire being was thrown into a wall. 

You should’ve known, really, that it was going to end like this. You should’ve known when the greasy money-tainted rat of your soon-to-be ex-fiance crawled out of his cave and to the royal palace, rubbing his hands together in faux prayer as he asked about your dowry. You were sure Seungcheol told him too – all fifteen million won of it. You could imagine how Lord Paree’s eyes would have seen the backs of his skull at the number — how he probably left the gilded royal palace in sheer bliss at the thought of receiving the monetary sum of three city estates just for a single marriage. Maggot, you thought, nails almost digging through the lace. Money-drunken parasite. 

A high-pitched dolphin giggle and a snap! of a fan slapped you out of your red-seeing stupor. 

Right. Yes. 

Dealing with (yet another) failed engagement was more important than the consequences that would follow. You could almost hear the concerned jabberings of Seungcheol, fur-wrapped on his stupid golden throne in the palace, as you stood in front of him. 

“Your highness, you aren’t married either,” you would point out, like you always do. 

Seungcheol would sigh and pout, “I know, y/n. That seems to be the problem.” Then, he would scan you up and down before clapping, jumping out of his throne and meandering his way down to where you were standing with a grin. “What kind of guardian,” he offered you his arm as he led you out of the throne room, “would I be if I got married before I saw you get married?” He pinched your cheek lightly, letting out a loud laugh at your severely disgruntled expression. “Don’t you agree, Duchess Park?” 

You would close your eyes with a long sigh, pretending like this conversation wasn’t one of Seungcheol’s only topics of interest since her debut into Society. “Of course, your highness,” you would mumble, muttering a few more colorful adjectives under your breath as you were led unwillingly to your fifth courtship date request of the month. 

If you knew then that your fourth engagement – in one and a half years, mind you – would end up shattered shambles yet again, you wouldn’t have even let Seungcheol drag you to the royal garden’s mezzanine for afternoon tea with that bastard in the first place. 

Really, you weren’t quite sure whether you were more angry at the fact that the idle-headed useless block of skin tissue or at the all gracious, ever-knowing royal highness for setting you two up together in a future cheating scandal. That was true. Yet fucking again. 

You were so tired of snatching the tea pot off of the wire-frame tables and throwing it at the girl (like it was the poor lady’s fault) before bitch-slapping your ex fiance with as much malice as you could muster at the time. Genuinely. You were so sick of walking into the next ball with no one by your side, save your secretary and personal guard, yet again. You were going to throw up if you heard your name with the words cheating, scandal, and shame in a Society gathering again. But most importantly, you were so sick of the look he would give you from across the ballroom and during your dances. 

“I heard about you and Lord Paree.” 

A step into a waltz.

“So has the rest of the fucking country, apparently.” 

A stifled cough let out due to your unexpectedly colorful language. 

“I wouldn’t say the entire nation, y/n.” 

“Hm, I fear I will have to disagree, your grace, as I heard even Duke Hong’s footmen murmur among themselves regarding my unfortunate turn of events.” 

A falter in his soft smile. 

“Forget him. I’ve always thought of him as an undeserving bastard anyways.”

You laugh, head thrown back – the most joyous you have been since last week. 

“Shall I be glad that you’ve thought so, your grace?” 

Wonwoo shrugs, twirling you around in tight circles. You feel almost lightheaded from his cologne, mingling in with the gentle puffs of breath from the waltz. 

“Think of it however you want,” he hums, dipping you ever so slightly against the sudden base of the cello. You swallow a surprised gasp as his hand, originally on your upper back, dips dangerously low – for a moment, sitting gently against the hem of your corset. 

The two of you come to a halt near the edge of the ballroom floor. You hate how you can feel a flush coming on the apples of your cheeks the longer Wonwoo stares at you, an odd mixture of pity and something else swimming in his eyes behind the metal-frame glasses. 

You bow, one hand on your chest. You know you don’t have to – he is of the same societal position as you. You know you don’t have to, but it feels almost second nature to go low into a curtsy of some kind in front of a man. 

“Thank you, your grace, for this dance,” you murmur, lifting your head back up. Wonwoo stays quiet for a good moment, before he blinks. 

“Find yourself another date for your second dance, yes? Someone better than that cheating bastard,” he hums. You think he’s about to reach for your gloved hand but his hands stay at his side – the only indicator of movement a slight twitch in his fingers. You force down your disappointment. 

Instead, you smile. There is nothing else for you to do, anyways. Seungcheol, although good of heart, would have another engagement for you lined up in no time. And with that, you would need to forget. Forgive and forget. You realize you’ve spent too much time in front of the Archduke’s son when you feel the presence of your guard behind you. 

“I will see you soon,” you greet, before you turn and leave. If you had stayed to hear his response, you feel like you would have stayed with Wonwoo for the entire night. And that was not very ladylike.

Wonwoo

“Wonwoo, one day you’re going to have to live for something else.” 

Seungcheol’s breaths came out in heaving pants as the two took a brief break from their sparring session in the royal palace’s courtyard. 

Wonwoo just raised a brow, wiping sweat off of his brow with his discarded shirt. “What do you mean by that, your majesty?” 

Seungcheol waved away the title. “Drop the pretense, friend. What I mean is,” Seungcheol dropped his empty water jug on the wooden bench, before bringing his sword up to his face, “one day you’re gonna realize you have more to live for than just this.” Seungcheol gestured vaguely towards the desolate sparring grounds. 

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, brushing dusts of sand off of his glinting blade. His fingers flexed on the leather grip. “I don’t live for just this, Coups. I know my responsibilities more than you think I do,” he sighed.

Seungcheol raised a questioning brow, stepping back into the sparring grounds with a twirl of his sword. “You sure?” his voice echoed, which was followed by unfamiliar click-clacks of a woman’s heels. Seungcheol cocked his head and grinned, canines showing, as he squatted down low, flicking his fingers at Wonwoo. “Then why are you asking to go out to fight? You might die.” 

Wonwoo cracked his neck before running at the young king, Their swords clashed in the middle of the sparring grounds, flickers of their manas bursting outwards. Smoky tendrils of black gravitated and fogged the ground near Wonwoo’s feet, curling themselves around his chest and slowly inching up his neck, before blending in with his hair. 

Wonwoo grunted in exertion, pushing Seungcheol back with the help of his mana. The king slammed into the back wall before landing back on his feet. Wonwoo stood over him, panting. Sweat dripped down his temples and his mana curled itself around his bare arms, against the contours of the muscles that laid there. 

“It is the only thing I am good for,” Wonwoo stated. His words came out soft, almost a whisper, as his hand stretched out towards Seungcheol. 

Seungcheol took a second more in his position, staring into Wonwoo’s despairing eyes. The dark browns looked more conflicted than Seungcheol had ever known. His own eyes darted towards the figure that stood in the opening archway of the courtyard. He could barely make out the face, under the layers of shadows, but he knew. He had called her here anyway. Not here as in the courtyard but here as in the palace. It was though, of course, purely coincidental that she had walked to the courtyard of her own volition. 

Seungcheol grasped Wonwoo’s hand, hauling himself off of the sandy ground. 

“You’re willing to leave your duchy? Your Society life?” Seungcheol stood in front of Wonwoo with his sword at his side. He gave the young archduke a knowing look. “Even the duchess?” 

Wonwoo stiffened at Seungcheol’s ending words, his hand stilling, hovering the tip of his sword at the entrance of its sheath. He swallowed. The sword dropped with a loud CLANG into its home in the sheath. He looked up at the king, who looked almost expectant. 

“Yes,” was his answer. He straightened, brushing sweaty strands of his black hair out of his eyes. “Yes, I am.” 

Before Seungcheol, with furrowed brows and disappointment flurrying in his eyes, could open his mouth, a quiet scoff rang out, ripping the silence between the two men into shreds. 

Wonwoo’s head snapped to the archway where the sound had echoed from, fingers curling around the grip of his sword. His other arm pushed Seungcheol behind him, which earned him a noise of protest from the older man. 

“Won-”

“There’s someone there,” was what Wonwoo said, before he stepped closer, into the shadows of the archway. The face that met him left him unable to breathe – as if his lungs had been squeezed out of oxygen from the inside; as if his entire being was wringed; as if someone had, one by one, cut the tendons of his muscles, rendering him absolutely useless. 

“I have been delusioned,” a cold, shaking voice started, “of our relationship, your grace.” You bowed deeply, silken hair falling over your shoulders, petals of the flowers in your hair dancing in the soft breeze, hand tight-fisted on your chest. “I ask for your apology in my,” a deafening pause, “assuming nature.” 

BANG

The sword fell out of Wonwoo’s limp hand. He rushed forward, almost tripping over his own feet and forgetting his look of indecency, leaving Seungcheol long forgotten in the edges of the sparring grounds. 

“Y/n,” he breathed, hands gently holding your upper arms. “Y/n, you misunderstand,” he hurried, forcing you to stand properly. The sight afterwards almost made him wish he let you stay in your bow. 

Your crystalline eyes were glassy and he could make out the glistening pools of unshed tears that poked against your charcoal waterline. Your lips stretched thin over your teeth in an attempt at a reassuring smile. But he knew you better than that – he knew more than half of the emotions that swirled behind your watery eyes and he knew what the tremblings of the corners of your lips meant. What it meant for you, for him, for the two of you. 

You shook your head, shuffling back against the rough grounds. A small laugh escaped your mouth. Your glossy pink lips curled up in a practiced smile – too robotic, too mirror-practiced, too Society for him to comprehend. It sent his mind reeling. It sent his mind reeling because you had heard what he shouldn’t have said. Because he was so used to seeing your dimpled smile in his embrace.

“No,” you responded, pushing his hands off of your lace-covered arms with trembling fingers. Your touch was soft but firm – a boundary that was unfamiliar in his realm. “I apologize for intruding, your grace, your highness,” another bow – this time at Seungcheol, who just waved her off from his position picking up the strewn wooden swords, “I will take my leave now.” 

A noncommittal noise rose from the back of Wonwoo’s throat and his hand wrapped around your wrist habitually, only to be shaken off without a single backwards look and a shuddering sigh as you walked away, head held high and hands shaking by your side. 

Wonwoo wasn’t stupid. He knew when to take a hint. 

“I’m not sure if you started a problem or made an existing problem worse.” 

Wonwoo shot a glare towards Seungcheol. “Thank you for your wise words, your highness. They are so helpful in my current situation,” he muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair. 

Seungcheol sighed, shrugging as he dumped the wooden swords inside of a crate. “Look at it this way,” he pointed out, “now you are free to go do your battling. Without any ties.” 

Seungcheol handed Wonwoo his discarded sword, eyebrows raised. 

“Right?” 

Wonwoo gave him no answer, only staring at your shadowed retreating form that walked now in the sunlight past the archway. He only stared as you, with a curt nod to a footman, entered the main palace halls again. 

“Wonwoo?” Seungcheol repeated. “You there?” 

Wonwoo blindly nodded, fidgeting with the loose ends of his sheath. “Yes. Yes, maybe,” was his vague answer, mumbled softly under his breath. And all through Seungcheol’s next set of rants about Society politics and the ongoing problems around the Northern border of Obella, the only thing Wonwoo could think of was the alien tightening of his chest – so much so that his lungs felt off and his heart hurt to breathe. 

Wonwoo was sick and tired of the stench of blood and rusting iron. He was sick and tired of the habitual curl of his fingers around the hilt of his battle-worn sword at every small crack in the woods. And he was sick and tired of being away – away from the Capitol, away from his duchy, away from her. 

So when, one morning, his best friend and commanding officer Soonyoung, came into his tent with a cream-colored envelope with a familiar crest stamped on the front, it felt like a weight had lifted off of his shoulders.

His tent flap fluttered as a head of blonde ducked in Wonwoo’s sleep tent. 

“Guess what a little birdie flew in with this pleasantly fine morning?” Soonyoung grinned, leaning against one of the poles of the tent, arms crossed.

Wonwoo looked up from his place sitting on his chair, sharpening his sword. His glasses hung low on his nose and his naked back rippled with aching muscles. He deadpanned, recognizing the crest as the royal crest. “What?” he hummed, standing up and setting his sword and whetting stone down. “Another commission from our dear king?” he scoffed, unwilling bitterness seeping into his words. 

Of course, he did not blame King Seungcheol for his current predicament. Actually, he did, just a little bit. But of course, not all of the situation. Around three fifths was because of himself – because he was greedy and ambitious and begged to be sent to the National Academy and rose to the top of his Weapons class. It was his fault, was what he told himself, that he was on his third year out in the battlefields in the north, fighting the royal battles for a king that presented himself to be one of Wonwoo’s closest friends. Of course an inconspicuous bitterness would form. 

Hoshi laughed, his own bare torso glinting in the early morning sunlight. He handed Wonwoo the letter. “Oh, you wish, Wonwoo,” Hoshi said, clapping his friend on the back. He squeezed as Wonwoo’s eyes skimmed over its contents. He could almost feel Hoshi’s smile from behind him. 

“Congratulations, my friend,” Hoshi laughed, “You have officially been reinvited to Society!” 

Wonwoo’s face crumpled into an off mixture of disappointment, relief, and boredom. Society? That was what Seungcheol was pulling him out of these battles for? Out of everything, Society? 

“Society?” he scoffed. The hollow, fakeness of The Capitol’s Society was what awaited him outside of the violent woods? His fingers tightened on the thick parchment. 

The fact that it was Society wasn’t the aspect that pissed him off down to his bones. It was the fact that Seungcheol knew why he gave up Society to begin with. 

Suddenly, Hoshi’s squinted eyes filled Wonwoo’s vision. His blonde-bleached eyebrows were furrowed on his face. “Why do I feel like you’re not happy to be going back?” 

Wonwoo let out a deep sigh, his eyes closing ever so slightly. His chest felt tight. “Because, Hoshi,” he grumbled, ripping up the letter and tossing it into his lantern flame, “I fucking hate Society.” 

Wonwoo watched as the tattered pieces of the ripped parchment crumble into the orange-red flames. It was his fault, he guessed. Going back to Society, to the Capitol, was something he knew he had to face, once his reign among the knights was over. Three years, even for a man like him, was a long time to not show your face even once in a public Society event. He guessed this was Seungcheol’s passive reminder: get to your duties. He could almost hear it in his head. 

Hoshi shook his head in faux disappointment, tsking. “Thought you knew better than that, Archduke Jeon. You nobility need to perform part of your duties, after all.” Hoshi’s grin makes Wonwoo’s lips stretch into a slight smile. “What? Has the battlefield ridden you of your noble blood, your grace?” Hoshi asked with an eyebrow raise. 

Wonwoo just shook his head with a small smile and a sigh. But he couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling of being called an archduke. Being called your grace. Those were titles he was used to seeing his father carry – his father, who was a charismatic ruler, his father, who loved deeply and truly, and his father, who lay cold and lifeless in the Jeon Family cemetery next to his mother for two years. 

Hoshi was not wrong, he knew. He knew there would be a time he would have to return to the very thing he hated the most about staying in the Capitol, about being a noble; whether or not he returned by his own volition was the question. And apparently Seungcheol had deemed three years, three years too much. The churning in his stomach could not be described as anything else but uncertainty. 

As Hoshi talked animatedly, with flailing arms, about the night before, when the soldiers had broken out crates of rum and beer to celebrate the strengthening of the Northern borders from the “evil spirits,” as they had called them, Wonwoo stared into the crackling lantern flame. If he returned to Society, as per the royal decree and as per his friend’s request, he would have to face the portraits that hung on his Capitol estate’s portrait hall. He would have to walk through the halls of his own home that had once been full of deeper, older, wiser, laughter of his parents without them. He would have to face the claustrophobia-inducing, over crowded ballrooms of the private high society gatherings, attend meaningless hunting outings, and present himself to the greater nobility public like some sort of relic or trophy to be garnished with wreaths and golden medals of bravery after the three year battle. 

But, of course, that was not all of the Society he had left behind. He had left behind a deeper, lovelier Society as well. Something – someone, he should say – that if he had any say in, he would keep hidden in the deepest parts of his heart. Someone, if he returned, who would – no, could – never be his again. She was not someone who waited around – especially if they had left like he did. 

But perhaps…

No. 

No, no, no. 

He shook his head. 

He could not bring his hopes up for nothing. He had a duty – to his duchy, to his family, to the legacy his father left behind, and to his country. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” Wonwoo mumbles. Mostly to himself, yet Hoshi quietens in his rant at his friend’s words. 

Hoshi drags a wooden chair over, swinging his legs around it to sit – chest against its back. “For Society or…” Hoshi does not need to finish his question for Wonwoo to understand. It is implied, as it always had been between the two of them. 

Wonwoo sighed, burying his head in his hands. The balls of his palm rub into his battle-weary eyes. “For everything. My responsibilities, Society, the entry celebrations, and…” Now Wonwoo poses the discarded ending. Hoshi knows, he decides for himself. He knows already. Wonwoo could tell from his knowing glance out the tent flap. 

“You’ve had responsibilities out on the battlefield, Woo. I believe your archducal duties are of a similar hierarchy?” Hoshi twirled a quill in his hand. The commander veers out of the way of the silent topic with a quick glance that promises Wonwoo another conversation – preferably over a glass of wine – in another time. 

Wonwoo let out a tired laugh. “You jest. I fear my archducal duties far outrank the simple hierarchy of my responsibilities on the battlefield.” 

Hoshi shrugged. “It is what you believe, sir.” 

“It is what I believe,” Wonwoo murmured to himself. A hand slid down his face as he slouched down in his chair, a tired sigh escaping the battle-worn caverns of his lungs. “Fuck.” 

One of King Seungcheol’s infamous re-entry balls was decided to be held in honor of Archduke Jeon returning to the Capitol, signifying his re-entrance into Society’s cluster of feathers and prim-propers from his years in the battlefields. 

“Do you know how uncomfortable wearing this cape is?” Wonwoo complains for the fourth time, tugging at the golden lapels that hold the thick fabric to his shoulders. He huffs in apparent annoyance as the golden tips of the royal palace’s towers loom overhead when the carriage rattles to a slow trot and then a stop. 

Hoshi, from his seat across Wonwoo, rolls his eyes, his own body decorated with the uniform of the royal knights, and a long gleaming sword hanging off of his hip. “Oh boo hoo,” he mutters, stepping out of the carriage as soon as the door opens. He dusts his white pants with a concluding groan as Wonwoo mutters something under his breath. 

“What?” Wonwoo snaps, “When has it changed so that a man cannot simply complain about his uncomfortable and ill-fit dressings for a ball?” Wonwoo retorts. A strand of hair fell in his face as he crossed his arms. His tight military uniform – decorated diligently with captain stars, rings of honor, and golden medals of bravery – strains against his biceps. He stands next to Hoshi, adjusting his formal tie with a displeased wince of discomfort. “I would have much rather preferred-”

“-Wonwoo!” Hoshi interjects, a rough hand coming down harshly against Wonwoo’s back. One look in Hoshi’s eyes and Wonwoo hesitates to finish his sentence. “My friend, please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up. You look fine,” Hoshi groaned, walking up to the palace doors with Wonwoo in tow. “You should have expected this anyways,” he continues, giving a curt nod to the footmen that open the doors, “This is a ball held in your honor,” a familiar turn into a wider hallway, “Remember?” Hoshi’s neat uniform is pin-straight as he walks down the marbled halls. “And we’re already late. Do you want to get passive aggressively eaten alive by Society the first day back in noble action?” he throws Wonwoo’s way with a quick glance over his shoulder with a teasing grin.

Wonwoo sighs, following Hoshi through the gilded halls of the too-familiar palace. He could almost picture his younger self – five years old – running through the very halls, with Prince Mingyu and (then) Prince Seungcheol hot on his heels, all three of them giggling about something for another. He could picture the two of them, laughing – him with his head thrown back and her with her fan over her pretty pink lips – during the boring parts of each and every palace ball. The gilded palace was gilded – but not just in gold. 

y/n

You were very confused. 

And confusion never was something any noble wanted during a ball, nevermind the King’s re-entry ball, no matter how close your family’s ties ran. 

Of course, you were not confused about who it was for. It was obvious. The Capitol’s newspapers (and most likely every other newspaper business in the nation), had spent the entire past week dedicating their front covers to the headlines that included, but were not limited to, one of the five following words: Archduke, Jeon, Return, Battle, Ball. 

It was as if the entirety of noble society had decided to come together for this one re-entry event, which apparently had people jittery at the edges of their seats because the most eligible bachelor of any season, really, was back on the market. The one high noble who could pay off even the most expensive dowries, who could save a breaking family from complete, utter, desolate ruin, whose dark hooded eyes had enticed so many of the daughters from the highest noble classes, was back. He, on orders and grounds unknown, was returning from his three-year-long disappearance from Society and out into the vicious battlefields of the north. 

And you were absolutely, jaw-droppingly so confused as to why both King Seungcheol and Prince Mingyu (mostly Seungcheol, though Mingyu posed no help), held you (almost) hostage at their sides, rambling and fluttering on about how you should stay with them until the entrance of the “main character.” 

“Your highness, may I ask why?” you ask. Behind your proprietary fan covering the bottom half of your face, your lips curl in distaste. If it was wholly up to you, you would have been in a silken nightgown, getting ready for bed. 

“Is brother still holding you here against your will?” Prince Mingyu’s laughing voice reaches your ears. You turn, meeting his broad frame. His one-shoulder cape glints at the top with a pure-gold cap, in dazzling contrast with his cream-white suit. In his hands are two flutes of bubbling champagne. He outstretches his arm, tipping one flute towards you with a grin, canines pushing down against his bottom lip. “For you, my lady,” he teases, slipping the flute into your gloved fingers. He gives you a cheesy wink, before breaking into a dimpled smile. 

You roll your eyes, habituated with the prince’s oftentimes off-handed flirty remarks. “You ask that as if you have not been doing the exact same thing, your highness,” you huff, but you don’t reject the champagne flute, taking a sip of the bubbling liquid with a satisfied sigh. You clear your throat before turning to both Mingyu and Seungcheol, who is surveying the crowd. “Now I ask the both of you the same question.” 

Mingyu throws an arm around Seungcheol, who stands still, staring at the entrance door to the ballroom with an impatient-tapping foot. “You know why.” He leans his head against Seungcheol, lightly stepping on his older brother’s furious foot with a mutter of maintaining a mask of patience. Seungcheol responds with a simple furrow of his thick eyebrows.

You tilt your head. Mingyu’s lack-luster responses and Seungcheol’s decision to blatantly ignore your words are doing absolutely nothing to quell your curiosity, let alone your confusion. 

Usually, if this was like any other royal-hosted ball, Seungcheol would only keep you for a brief moment. That would frequently consist of introductions to any new or unfamiliar royal cabinet members. And then, he would let you go, which usually meant, for you, going to the closest empty table with a chair and sitting down for the rest of the night. At least until you deemed you had spent enough time brooding in peace in your despairing corner, that it was respectable enough towards both you and the royal family, to leave the ball and return to your estate. 

Of course, you were not unapproachable. You were born and raised in Society. One of the first classes you remember taking with your grandmother was ballroom dance. Before (or many times during) your brooding solitary peace, either Mingyu, Seungcheol, or Duke Hong would leisurely make their way towards you and offer you your dance of the night. 

Those times, when the familiar strings of the orchestra and the notes of the hired singer flowed through the crowded ballroom, you let yourself be guided. After all, it was your job. 

“The lady is always supposed to be guided,” your grandmother used to say, “If a man, especially of high standing, does not guide a lady through a simple waltz, he is not a man. He is a coward not ready to face even the simplest of pleasures.” 

“Save your first dance, y/n,” Seungcheol suddenly says, turning to her. His words seem oddly like an order, and you would not put it below him for it to actually be an order. His grin matches his younger brother’s. The furs of his dress stick out against his dark hair. And his entire being seems that much more irking in your eyes. 

If he has another fucking suitor lined up already, I’ll kill him. To hell with the monarchy.

From next to him, Mingyu chuckles, as if he (they) knew something you did not. Which is usually the case, actually. You need to stop being so surprised. 

“Why?” Your nose scrunches. Your fan is forgotten at your sides.  

Seungcheol sighs, shaking his head slowly like you’re some under-developed child who could not get the full picture. “You’ll see.” 

You snap your fan shut, crossing your arms. “Sometime soon, I hope?” A jolt of pain waves over your ankle, a testament to how long you’ve been standing in one place. You force down your wince.

Mingyu pokes your puffed cheeks with his white-gloved hand and a laugh. “Impatient much, duchess?” 

You swat away his hand with a glance. Your head swivels as you say, “I have been waiting with much patience, thank you very much.” A lick of annoyance flickers in you when you catch at least seven pairs of eyes and gossiping mouths staring at you and the royal brothers. “It seems as though the Archduke is late,” you add, glancing at the giant clock on top of the entrance doorway. 

Mingyu, now arm over your shoulder, tugs at your dress sleeves. “Awfully interested, aren’t you?” he grinned, a small bout of laughter ensuing at your barely concealed tick of anger. Not only at his words but also at his careless touches. He should be glad all of high society knew of your close family relations, or else his actions would have had dire consequences.

You push him away lightly, flicking your fan open again as you gently fan yourself, covering your mouth. “Awfully not, your highness,” you snap. Mingyu knew not to talk about that. You try to ignore the fact that the wound you had once thought was fully stitched up and closed, still hurts when poked. “If I can-”

BANG

“ANNOUNCING ARCHDUKE JEON AND THE COMMANDER OF THE ROYAL KNIGHTS, SIR KWON!” The herald’s voice echoed through the ballroom. 

It was as if the entire ballroom was on a brief pause – the gossiping groups of ladies, the loud laughter of the business men, the rolling children, and even the orchestra. The violinists, cellists, and singer all paused, craning their heads to see through the throng of people who awaited the arrival of the main character – the battle-won most eligible bachelor of all the seasons: Archduke Jeon Wonwoo. 

And all you wanted to do was to never see his face again. 

And of course you prepared yourself. You prepared yourself the moment you had received Seungcheol’s and Mingyu’s separate request letters of your presence at tonight’s ball as part of the royal cabinet. You prepared yourself throughout the time Nai, your maid, rubbed oils into your skin, braided and twisted your silken hair, and pulled your corset tight against your straining ribs. Yet nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the real thing. The thing that was not born out of your imagination that had severely overworked itself over three years. 

Because not only does Wonwoo look the part of the most eligible bachelor, he looks the part of a successful military commander, with his dark military uniform, draping cape, and glinting golden medals. It feels as if the entire ballroom moves towards him, like he has his own gravitational force, as if everyone is attracted to something in the man. You can already see the cliques of the younger ladies fan themselves lightly as their eyes glaze over his wide shoulders and chiseled face. The military uniform does nothing to hide his physique. 

Your fan slowly rises to your face. 

Your corset feels especially restricting when you see Wonwoo’s sharp eyes scan the ballroom. If this were any other situation, you would find the way Wonwoo leans down briefly to Soonyoung to whisper something with a confused furrow and Soonyoung breaking out into a shit-eating grin and tossing a wink towards the general crowd, exponentially more amusing. That had more fans fanning quickly towards the ladies’ face. 

The entire scene reminded you briefly of when you were seventeen, when you had first been introduced to Society, standing almost in the same position as you were currently – next to the two princes who flanked you protectively with crossed arms – and Soongyoung, who was fresh into the Corps of Royal Knights then, and Wonwoo, who had just graduated from the National Academy, striding into your debutante ball late. The small waves and winks Soonyoung sends now towards the various gaggle of young, single ladies of Society reminds you, rather nostalgically, of when you, Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Seungcheol, and Mingyu had all spread out in Mingyu’s foyer on a wintry December day, and all you had talked about were the numerous engagement offers Soonyoung was getting from noble families. 

“What is this? Your thirteenth?” Seungcheol huffed, looking up briefly from Mingyu’s wide oak desk. He dropped his quill in the golden holder. “You’re gonna take away all the ladies from us at this rate, friend,” he laughed. 

You missed, in a small part of your heart, the times when Seungcheol had not been pressed to marry, find his match, continue the legacy. Now, his smile never crinkled his eyes when breeching on the topic of marriage and engagements. 

Soonyoung shrugged, legs dangling off of the couch’s arm rest as he flipped through a newspaper from last week. “Don’t know. You can have all of them, if you want, Coups,” he says, looking up from the tiny print. He gives a sideways look towards Mingyu. “And you too. Don’t want any of them. Not right now, anyways.” 

Seungcheol and Mingyu both grumble about the unfairness of knightly and royal duties as Soonyoung goes off on a separate tangent about the recent addition of a tiger to the park zoo. 

From the corner of your eyes, you see Wonwoo and Mingyu exchange an exasperated look. To be honest, you think it’s kind of cute – Soonyoung’s obsession with tigers, that is. It gives the man something childish in him. God knows he’ll need it in the battlefields one day. 

Suddenly, from the open window, the winter wind blasts through Mingyu’s parlor, wiping papers off of the low tables and out of your hands. 

You shiver, arms crossing around your torso. You rub against your thinly-clothed arms. 

“Sorry,” Mingyu apologizes sheepishly, quickly glancing over at you. “Should’ve closed that thing.” 

You wave him off, about to say something, when suddenly, a thick fabric is draped over your bare shoulders. You flinch at the sudden contact on your skin. From in front of you, Soonyoung’s eyes are wide, which looks rather comical when you see it in his entire position – upside down, legs spread around the backrest, black hair flapping. 

“I told you to close it.” Wonwoo’s tone is almost chastising as he moves from behind you to back to his original spot next to you. He gives Mingyu an almost-glare that has the prince sheepishly standing. Wonwoo picks up his book again, shaking his head ever so slightly. 

Mingyu gives Seungcheol a passive look before he sits down as well, eyeing the coat around your shoulders. 

One quick glance down at the lapel, and you find what you were looking for. The Jeon Duchy’s coat of arms glints up at you, the house crest shining proudly under the chandelier lights. Your cheeks heat when you recognize the expensive cologne that fills your nose. When you turn towards Wonwoo, he’s back in his book, absorbed, apparently, in the tiny printed words on the page. Your previously scattered papers are neat on the table in front of you. 

Wonwoo suddenly looks up from his book, catching your zoned-out stare. 

Your eyes widen. 

Wonwoo just gives you a small smile, before leaning forward and grabbing your papers. He lays his book face-down on his lap. “Do you need a quill?” he asks, handing you your papers. 

He catches you so off guard (as if you were only staring at his face, not listening to what he was saying), that you almost stumble over your own tongue trying to respond casually. 

“Er- Um- I mean, no. No, no, that’s fine,” you mumble, snatching the papers from his hand and scooting towards the other side of the long couch. “Thank you, though.” 

It feels like Wonwoo’s smile grows at your words. If you looked a little bit closer, you would have seen the tips of his ears turn a blush red when you glance down, fiddling with the academic medals on his lapel. 

“Anything for you,” he breathes, like it's a secret shared between you two. 

Mingyu and Soonyoung stare at the whole interaction with a mixture of forced disgust, confusion, and awkwardness, and you don’t miss how Soonyoung pretends to gag, Mingyu following suit, before the two of them go back to their lengthy tangents.

From next to you, you miss Mingyu’s quick glance down at your movements and the knowing glance he and Seungcheol share. 

Whispers break out as the two men – vastly different in the charismas they exude – stride towards the two royal family members. 

And you realize they are heading towards you before you remember you are standing with the royal brothers. And everything suddenly clicks into place. Why the two, more Seungcheol than Mingyu, wanted you to stay for so long – until the “main character arrives.” There is a bubbling pot of the sudden innate need to whack the king over the head with your fan. But of course. That would be terribly unladylike. Nothing a woman in your station should be doing, let alone thinking about doing. 

And it seems as if Wonwoo is as surprised at your presence on the royal platform because his dark eyes widen behind his glasses as he and Soonyoung stop in front of the raised platform you, Mingyu, and Seungcheol were standing on. 

You feel horribly awkward. And Soonyoung’s gaze flitting between you and Wonwoo before bowing his head, trying to conceal his laughter, is doing nothing to make the situation better. 

Seungcheol throws his arms out at the same time Wonwoo drops into a one-knee bow, Soonyoung in tow moments later behind him. At his sudden show of veneration, the crowd gasps softly and you shuffle backwards, only to hit Mingyu’s broad chest that blocks you from leaving the platform. You swallow. 

You need to get off this stupid fucking platform. 

But when you open and shut your fan, looking back at Mingyu, he seems awfully interested in exchanging eye contact with the ballroom’s chandelier. You know he heard your fan shut. The same, familiar spike of rage bubbles in your chest. 

These fucking brothers. 

“Success to your highness and peace to the nation.” Wonwoo’s deep voice, the one you had tried so desperately to forget, to lose in your discarded memories, to rip apart to shreds and feed to the dogs, echoes out against the quiet ballroom. If you strain your ears, you can hear, though, the stuttered gasps of the younger ladies and chaperones, on the verge of swooning at his first nine words. Resentfully, your brain conjures itself to the years when you were the same – fanning yourself to catch a handsome man’s attention.  

You wish you had the courage to laugh. To elegantly step off this damning platform. To get away (run away) from the man in front of the king.

You feel Mingyu moving ever so slightly behind you until you stand perfectly in between him and Seungcheol. Then, in the softest hiss of a whisper he is capable of, he mumbles, “Stay still. You’re sitting with us now.” 

You scoff quietly, raising your fan to your left cheek. The tips of the wooden stilts tickle your painted cheek.

From the corners of your eyes, you can see Mingyu pout. “Oh come on, duchess,” he whines. “I’m degraded down to fan talk?” His fingers wrap around your fan, pulling it down.

You’re glad you and Mingyu stand slightly off to the side because you don’t think you would be able to handle any more whisperings of your relationship with the men in your life Society has to cruelly offer. 

“You read right? The Archduchies are part of the direct royal council, now.” 

That makes you whip your head towards Mingyu’s. He is still facing forward with a practiced smile on his lips and hands in his pockets like this moment was the most relaxing all night. 

You, however, probably look slightly insane. Any fan etiquette goes flying out of the ballroom door at Mingyu’s words. You? On the royal council? Of course, on the surface, it is a great honor. You would be the first non-married matriarch to hold some semblance of power in the royal courts. But you could stitch together the gist of how Society would react to this. And based on Mingyu’s decision to tell you this late into Society’s winter season, you could land a (very accurate) educated guess that Seungcheol was going to announce in the next twenty minutes. 

“Are you crazy?” You whisper furiously, turning back to face the crowd. You can already see eyes slowly turn to the two of you, noticing your, now, not-so-subtle interaction. 

Mingyu just grins, bumping his shoulder with yours. And you don’t even get a chance to hear what he says because Seungcheol suddenly says, “Of course! Of course!” with the most excited tone of voice you had ever heard him use. Apparently Mingyu thinks the same because his head follows yours in staring at Seungcheol. Both of you, but mostly you because Mingyu is still surveying the crowd with a bright, confident, blazing smile that has the ladies of the court drowning in his eyes, are too embarrassed to look confused at what his words mean because you had zoned out of his rather one-sided conversation with Soonyoung and Wonwoo a long time ago. 

You can only stand stiffly in your place sandwiched between Seungcheol and Mingyu as both Soonyoung and Wonwoo rise slowly, giving Seungcheol a curt bow before turning to you and Mingyu. Your fan trembles with your hand as Wonwoo steps closer. 

You had forgotten how it feels to know nothing of what was to come. Especially when it pertained to him.

Your heart stills momentarily when his eyes land on you, moving up to your face and holding you in your place for a split second. You can’t even describe it. The feeling of seeing him so up close after all these years. After you had promised yourself to forget him. After you had spent hours crying in your bathtub, Nia rubbing your back soothingly. After you had fallen asleep, at least in the first weeks, on top of your duvet, letters he had once sent you crowding half of your bed, fresh tear stains ruining the expensive ink and paper. 

He looks so familiar it pulls at some part in your heart that you had thought was buried three years ago at a sparring ground. You observe him as he and Soonyoung pay their respects to Mingyu, who looks a pinch uncomfortable when his friends kneel in front of him. 

Black strands of his hair fall in front of his eyes and crowd his forehead. His military cape pulls your attention to his shoulders, which look broader than you remember them to be. And you can’t help but admit that his tight military top does nothing to hide his worked physique. His family crests glints at the connecting junction of his cape and his uniform, and his sheath, hand-crafted as a gift for his seventeenth birthday, holding his sword, rests against his hips. He looks regal, noble, eligible – so much so that it almost shakes the foundations of the walls you had built. 

Then he turns to you, those piercing eyes refocusing onto yours that don’t know where to land. His eyes? His lips? His chest? His shoulders? The crowd? A shadow of a smile paints itself onto his lips and you swallow. 

Your mouth feels dry. 

This can’t be real. 

When you had imagined the re-entry ball, meeting Wonwoo, nevermind seeing him so personally, had never once crossed your mind. 

Your fan slowly traced its path up to your right ear. 

From behind Wonwoo, Soonyoung grins, teeth flashing and eyes crinkling at your fan movement. Your own lips curl up in your practiced way. 

For the crowd, you tell yourself. 

The entire ballroom seems to watch the two of you in your silence, which was turning more awkward by the second. Wonwoo’s eyes carve a road up and down your figure. It makes your hands clench your fan tightly. 

You glance at Seungcheol, who nods, urging you to speak. You let out a small cough, averting your eyes briefly before your smile paints itself onto your lips again. Your fan falls. 

“It seems the battlefield has treated you well, Archduke Jeon,” you smiled, opening your arm briefly in a practiced welcome. 

It seems as if Wonwoo had not expected you to speak first, and for a second, he stands frozen, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, and hands still next to his body. At Soonyoung’s small embarrassed cough, he blinks rapidly, following your smile in suit. Except his looks too genuine, it tugs at your heart strings. And you berate your traitorous heart in wanting to pull him into a warm embrace. 

Remember how he left you. He doesn’t want you. 

The corners of your lips tremble. 

Instead, you feign indifference, lifting your chin. 

Wonwoo bows deeply first, followed by Soonyoung. He rises. 

“I see Society has welcomed you back with open arms,” he replies, his voice a pinch above a whisper. His small smile offers it as a jest but his words stab a knife into your gut. He has absolutely no right in jesting about your failed engagements. Not after everything. 

From behind him, you can see Soonyoung pinch his nose bridge, shaking his head ever so slightly, mouthing an apology to you. 

Wonwoo’s eyes linger a moment too long on you, before reaching for your hand. Out of pure etiquette that has burned itself into your entire being, you offer him your hand, and his head is bowed, lips hovering mere centimeters over your lacy knuckles before you realize what you are doing. And by then, it’s too late to retract your offered hand. 

Wonwoo’s lips meet the back of your hand. 

His own gloved fingers hold your hand like you are made out of the most delicate of china, his touch barely-there. 

And just as quick his lips are on your hand, it disappears from your skin. 

“May tonight bring you as much warmth as your presence brings to it,” he murmurs, so softly that you have to strain your ears to hear it. But it’s there.

Wonwoo rises before you have a chance to process his greeting words that were murmured into your hand. You almost miss the way the tips of his ears are blush-red between strands of his hair. 

Before you can say something else, Soonyoung is in front of you, bowing over your outstretched hand, pressing a light, airy kiss. You can feel him grin against your skin. 

When he looks up, he has a teasing grin painted on his face, and you have to force yourself to not roll your eyes at how he wiggles his eyebrows up and down. 

“Success and love for the Archduchess.” Soonyoung’s words echo across the ballroom, unlike Wonwoo’s. 

Too busy retracting your hand from Soonyoung’s grip, you miss the way Wonwoo’s jaw clenches, face hardening at Soonyoung’s words. 

: ̗̀➛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ @syluslittlecrows @gaslysainz @meowmeowminnie @luvjichang @peachytokki @nicoleparadas @haneulparadx @mj-szaa @lilylikesthat @ppaia @ameliamirabela @tearsdntfall617

[leewonkyeom]

tom and jerry | joshua hong

☆ pairing: joshua hong x gn!reader

☆ synopsis: joshua keeps dropping painstakingly obvious hints on twitter

☆ genre: one-shot smau, fluff

☆ warnings: swearing

☆ a/n: this was loosely inspired by 💬🗯️💭 THOUGHTS ??? by @itadorins and obvious by @suhnshinehaos

main masterlist

☆ a/n: this did nothing to cure my joshua brainrot. in fact, it made it worse. anyways, i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it. as always, i appreciate all comments, likes and reblogs!

(and you guys are right! i should stop writing one-shots and focus on my cheol smau😭)

[yeonjunsvape]

L.A girl: joshua smut

w/c: 2.3k

pairing: idol!joshua, female!reader

genre: smut

summary: joshua comes back to his hometown and meets with a girl from his past.

svt masterlist

you highfive your teammates when you score a point and glance over at the crowd forming, cheering you guys on.

there was a particular face which sticks out when you go to serve the ball, it was a tall, well dressed, and smug smiled man.

joshua…

your eyes never left his as he slow claps for you, the arrogance was radiating off his body and you drop the ball to the ground. never has your heart beaten so fast by a person who didn’t have to speak a word, joshua only uses his eyes to get his point across.

without saying a word to your friends, you run off the beach and immediately regret looking weak infront of him.

when you walk down the pier of the beach, you didn’t notice someone following you because your mind was clouded, “why did you run?” a familiar voice from behind you semi-shouts due to all the noise happening around you.

even with all the other sounds coming from every direction in your ears, his voice was crystal clear and transparent. “i-i didn’t run…” you stopped in your tracks but didn’t have the strength to turn around.

it was an obvious lie, he saw you laughing and smiling with your friends until your eyes met his. “you didn’t huh?” he retorts with a sly chuckle.

your fingers ball into a fist until your knuckles turn white and finally turn around to face joshua. “okay fine i did, but who are you to judge? don’t you run away from everyone and everything also?” you shout, walking up closer until you’re chest to chest.

“i can’t argue there, i just thought you would’ve got over that by now.” your eyes roll and he smirks, loving the reaction he gets from you anytime he speaks.

you weren’t sure why he has such an emotional effect in your brain, it’s been that way since middle school. he can be on the other side of the world and you still can’t help but look around small crowds for his face.

“i missed you [Y/N], my band is doing some shooting in la, i just wanted to catch up.” joshua seemed innocent by the way he spoke but you can read his thoughts. “i’ve been great… we caught up, have a good summer.” you turn around and continue your journey down the pier, far away from him.

2 days later was the next time you’d see joshua again.

the day was nothing extraordinary, shower, coffee, and work meetings; that is until, you see the handsome yet annoying smug face walking into your office.

your cheeks sink in and you give him a death glare as he walks to your bosses office door, knocking politely. you stand from your chair and sneak over to the room, peaking in through a window your boss uses to surveillance all your colleagues.

there wasn’t any clear words you could hear and you stomp your foot slightly, getting frustrated you didn’t know joshua’s intentions.

when the two men start walking toward the door, you take off back to your desk, falling off your rolling chair in the process but quickly sitting down, and breathing heavy.

they walk behind you and the hair sticks up on the back of your head just by the presence of joshua hong. “mrs. [Y/N]? this is joshua from the korean band seventeen. they are looking for someone around the area to help them with shooting locations.” you turn around in the chair and bite the inside of your cheek hard.

you worked in retail at the largest agency in la and you had no idea what selling houses had to do with finding locations for a boyband to shoot a music video.

“the beach is always a good location, have a nice day.” you turn back around in your chair and your boss clears his throat, “mrs [Y/N]? take his team to every available property along the shore we have.”

you hesitate but stand up from the chair and grab your belongings. “it’ll be my honor, shall we, mr. hong?” you fake a polite voice for your bosses satisfaction and drop your smile when you’re left alone with joshua. “let’s go.”

the elevator ride to the first floor was nothing short of the most tense experience you’ve ever been in and the worst part is you can’t run away this time.

“sooo… is your manager going with us?” you awkwardly ask, trying to stay professional. “yes, also the other boys, they want to have an opinion on where we shoot.” you just nod and look around the small elevator at anywhere but him.

once the two doors were about to open he presses a button to make the doors close again. “what-” was all you said before he pushes you against the elevator wall, both of his hands on either side of your head.

“why do you do this to me [Y/N]? after all these years of no communication, you still make me feel like we’re in high school.” he mutters in your ear, sending shivers down your entire body.

you didn’t dare speak a word to the man who was now hovering over your body and after a few moments of silence he chuckles, pulling away. “i know you like the back of my hand [Y/N], you act innocent and push me away, then can’t handle the tension so you hate fuck me.”

you push him away when the elevator opens again and people crowd inside, then slip out the door skillfully, leaving joshua behind. your heart was beating so fast you thought it was about to explode.

you’re on level 8 when you need to be on the ground floor, so you quickly run to the stairs in case you run into joshua again.

it was silent, dark, and every move you make echoes throughout the walls of the stairs. halfway through the journey you were already panting and waving your hand on your face as a makeshift fan, seeing ‘floor 4’ on the wall infront of you.

a door opened and closed but with the echoing, it could’ve came from anywhere.

you stop to rest and text your boss it was going good, even though you planned on making a break for it when you finally reach level 1.

as soon as you hit send your phone was snatched out of your hand with aggression, you look up to see joshua. “we never finished our conversation.” he blankly stares, holding your phone as ransom.

you cross your arms and hold your hand out, tapping your foot in annoyance. “may i have my phone back?” “you may have your phone back…. once we finish our conversation.” he replies back, holding the phone behind his back.

“if you don’t give me my phone back, i will scream murder and they will take you to jail.” you threat and your foot tapping getting faster. “there’s no one else in here darling, no one would even hear you,” he smirks to himself as if he won, then putting your phone inside his pants.

your face scrunches at his lame moves, knowing from personal experience he could do much better. “how about, you can have my phone, i’ll just get a new one.” you smirk back and he hums, hearing a text message ‘ding’ coming from in his pants. “that might be important, you should come get it.”

you nod your head and reach your hand in his pants as he wished, digging around to find what you were looking for.

“ahhh there it is, it was so small i almost missed it.” you smirk, cupping his semi-hard dick in your hand, rubbing it slowly until you feel it become fully hard.

after you left him speechless, you grab your phone and walk down the stairs again, texting your boss back. “you were right joshua, it was important.” you call out, not caring if he is following or not.

when you reach level 3, you were pushed against the wall for the second time in the span of 30 minutes, you look up at joshuas eyes and bite the inside of your cheeks again. “you did this to me.” he whispers, glancing down at the very obvious outline in his pants. “yeah and now its your problem.” you spit back, huffing at his aggressive gaze.

joshua pushes his hard on against your pussy that has been aching since the elevator, and hums. “it’s our problem [Y/N], i can tell you’re putting on a brave face, but you want me.”

even if his words were true, you needed to stay strong so you don’t end up as the loser in his game.

“look at you, the desperation in wearing that skin tight leather skirt is all i need to know.” joshua smirks, spreading your legs apart with his knee. “how much you wanna bet you’re soaking in those panties? a slut like you loves when a man is basically begging for your pussy.” he whispers in your ear, moving a hand down to lift up your skirt slowly.

“i-i won’t be, you have no effect on my pussy.” you whisper back, clenching your eyes shut when you feel his hand creeping up your thigh. “you sure?” joshua asks with a chuckle, the wetness running down your leg before he could even make it to your panties.

“i love how i can make you dripping just by my words. you’ve always liked being degraded.” he mumbles and finally reaches your core, his hand stopping when he feels no panties. “were you preparing for this moment? you knew i would find a way to get us alone huh? god you’re so slutty and sexy.” joshua smirks and flicks your clit with his fingers, making your entire body jolt.

“it’s true.” you whimper, not caring about winning or losing his game anymore, you just needed his dick.

joshua lifts you by the waist and pins you to the wall so your legs are spread around him. “sorry doll, no time for foreplay, someone can catch us.”

the thought of someone hearing, or seeing joshua fucking you hard against your work walls made you even wetter, the juice dripping on his pants as you wait for him to take his dick out.

once it was free, he lifts your hips so he could get a good grip on you before slamming as hard as he could inside your pussy. you yell but a hand slapped over your mouth, and tears forming in your eyes. it hurt so good, you wanted to feel him slam in you again without any warning.

joshua bounces you up and down on his large cock, smirking at your already tearful eyes. “its not small now, is it whore? it’s not small when its pounding into you tight wet pussy.” he moans out, thrusting his hips as fast as he can.

his name calling made your walls clench around him, it was your biggest turn on. “you’re so obedient doll, i tell you to spread your legs and here you are, being fucked senseless at your work.” he was panting now and you knew it was going to be a quickie, which you didn’t mind, you were already cumming on his dick as he spoke.

joshua reaches a hand up and wraps it around your slim throat, kissing your lips sloppily. he slurps up the saliva that was running down your mouth from pleasure and hums. “so sexy.” he moans, choking you harder.

“go faster.” you choke out, hearing a chuckle come from his mouth. “this isn’t fast enough for my little cum slut?” he retorts and you clench again at the name.

despite the teasing, he does as you ask, and thrusts as fast as his hips could go, “im about to cum baby, i missed your pussy so much.” he lowly moans, hands still around your neck and kisses your mouth.

joshua gives two more hard thrusts before shooting inside of your guts, pushing deeper in and whimpers against your mouth.

“f-fuck.” he groans when he pulls away from the kiss, resting a hand against the wall so he could hold you up on his waist, still deep inside of your now sensitive pussy. “that was the best hate sex we’ve ever had,” you giggle, twitching everytime he moved inside of you.

joshua finally pulls out of you when he catches his breath and zips his pants up. “lets go back to my hotel and do that again.” he smirks, kissing your neck slowly. “what about the house hunting for your music video?” you ask, tilting your head so he could kiss more of your neck.

“oh, we’re shooting at the beach, i had a free day and got bored.” he admits and you scoff. “you’re such a dick.” you cross your arms and start walking off, joshua catching up to you fast, “i just wanted your pussy, but i will tell your boss you are the best employee, and we spent all day looking at beautiful houses. meanwhile, we’re at my hotel fucking and you get a day off.” he negotiates and you think about it for a second, “alright deal.”

he was satisfied with your response and he grabs your hand but you pull away. “we’re better at hate fucking, not lovey dovey.” he nods in agreement and leaves your workplace with you, heading to his hotel.

“you should come back more though shua, you’re much use to me when you’re here.”

a/n: its 5 am and i just finished, im so tired, i started at 12 am 😂 but i really wanted to get this posted bc i have a busy day tomorrow, hope you enjoy!! my requests are open!!

[okiedokrie]

the prefect's bathroom

Summary: Sneaking around in the prefects bathroom with your insanely horny boyfriend

Characters/Pairing: Joshua X F!Reader

Genre: Smut, porn with a minuscule amount of plot if you squint

AU/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Hogwarts Altior!AU, Established Relationship

Word Count: 632

Warnings: Use of the nickname 'baby', praise, exhibitionism, bath pool sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, fingering, marking, overstimulation, hair pulling

Rating: 18+

A/N: Re-upload from my old blog!! I'm re-uploading my own work, I did not plagiarize. @hogwartsaltior au!!

Maybe sneaking around in the prefects bathroom wasn't the best idea you and Joshua ever had, but his long fingers rubbing your clit managed to snuff that last bit of hesitation out of you.

"Ah- Shua-" You breathe out, low and airy, his hair tickling your cheek as he sucked harsher at the skin just below your collarbone, making sure that your uniform would cover it.

"Shhh, try to keep quiet for me baby. We don't want anyone catching us here like this." He whispers into your skin, looking up to make eye-contact with the mermaid mural who looked flustered witnessing you two's actions.

The hand that wasn't prodding at your folds rested behind your head, fingers running through the roots of your hair just to grip it and give it a harsh tug, the stinging made you gasp in surprise and pleasure, Joshua using this opportunity to kiss down the valley of your breasts, moaning into your skin.

Joshua enters his fingers into your heat, the feeling of his fingers scissoring your cunt open was enough to pull a loud moan from you, the sound vibrating and echoing around the bathroom. Joshua closes his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and slightly pulling it with his teeth as his fingers start a steady pace pumping into you.

Joshua hitting the spongey part inside you was enough to almost make you forget where you were, not caring about being loud anymore. Joshua smirks at this, pulling his fingers out of you and placing his hands on the ledge of the pool, letting go of your hair, he pulls you in for a heated kiss, your arms wrap around his neck as you massage the roof of his mouth with your tongue.

Joshua grips your hips as he pushes his fat dick into you, the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out more than his fingers made you gasp and whine into his mouth, Joshua drinking up your sounds of pleasure.

"Please, please, move Shua, I need you-!" You whine into his mouth, horny out of your mind, Joshua just pecks your cheek and tightens his grip on your hips, starting a slow and steady roll of his hips.

You gasp and whine everytime his hips meet yours, the water moving is slow waves around you, occasionally splashing out. Soon, both of you get impatient, the force of Joshua's harder and faster thrusts basically pins you the the side of the pool, your nails dragging on his broad back leaving angry red lines in their wake.

You moan loudly, string of curse words and Joshua's name almost being covered by the sound of the water being disturbed so much that its splashing almost everywhere. "Shua- clit-" You gasp out, Joshua groans into your ear, fingers finding your swollen bud to rub it harshly in tandem with his powerful thrusts.

The tip of his fat cock keeps hitting your sweet-spot, your legs around his thin waist shaking with anticipation, a tight, hot coil tightens in your abdomen as both of you keep moaning in a higher and higher pitch.

"Fuck, baby I'm gonna cum, you want me to spill my load into you?" Joshua says, biting his lip after.

"Yes, Joshua, please give me all your cum-!" You moan, clenching around his cock like a vice, trying to milk him for his worth.

Both of you cum with a whine and a groan, the force of your orgasm causing you to sob out a strangled string of curse words as you feel Joshua's load filling you to the brim. Joshua takes his hand that was on your clit to feel your abdomen, he feels a bit of resistance as he smirks at the thought of it being his cum filling you good.

[wonupatootie]

SVT Social Media AU Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part II

오늘 날씬 너를 많이 닮아 너에게 가는 길은 꽃길이 되고~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

Yoon Jeonghan

“Death By A Thousand Cuts” by @ssssssssssssscoups

Fem!reader || fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･y/n loves books. she loves the way they make her feel any emotion, to get lost within the pages and words that suffocates her heart. jeonghan loves performing, loves the way his voice makes the public go wild. if they fall in love, will they fall out? 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Iris Beauty” by @wonunuu

Fem!reader || romance, fat angst, drama, comedy || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you and mina have been best friends for as long as you remember. after your parents passed from a horrible car accident, mina's parents kindly took you in, tending and caring for you as their own. at such a young age, you have learned the meaning of debt as this is your constant feeling towards your best friend and her parents. to compensate, you have showed them undoubtable loyalty, respect, love and kindness, just as they have showed you; you do everything they tell you without question. so when your best friend asks you to pretend to be her in meeting a guy she has been talking to online, your loyalty and trust are tested when you unintentionally develop feelings for him.

Hong Jisoo

“You Were Beautiful” by @viastro

Fem!reader || modernised cinderella au, strangers to lovers, humour, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in which you and joshua meet through your love for boba popsicles, but end up living out your very own complicated, mess filled, cinderella story.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Love On The Air” by @suhnshinehaos

Gn!reader || uni au, childhood friends to ???, pining, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･joshua hong wants you to know how he feels about you, but god forbid he actually say it out loud. instead, he settles on the next best thing : dedicating a song to you every week on the campus radio. too bad you’re too dense to actually figure out it’s all for you.

Wen Junhui

“Moonlight” by @nonononranghaee

Based on Hidden Love, orange cat x black cat || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Jun as the boy who makes you believe in the existence of love

Lee Jihoon

“Yearning” by @jihoonotes

Gn!reader || sunshine x grumpy, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･for yn it was love at first sight, but for jihoon it was annoyed at first sight.. oops?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“FORELKSET” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || idol au, fluff, humour, romance, slight angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a boring summer with you and your best friend led you both to do some dumb things, one being texting your number neighbor. however, things take a toll when your number neighbor isnt the person who they say they are.

Kim Mingyu

“My Melody” by @networkluvs

Gn!reader || college au, band au, strangers to lovers, slice of life, comedy, angst, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in which you become the muse of the overly cocky rising rockstar on campus, kim mingyu.

Xu Minghao

“What I Would Do!” by @sungbeam

Fem!reader || acquaintances to lovers, pining, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･minghao is kinda sorta maybe in love with you, but he thinks you're so out of his league.

Boo Seungkwan

“Company Policy” by @whatsk-poppinhomies

Fem!reader || idol au, romance, fluff, drama, comedy, angst, smut || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being an intern at Hybe was a dream come true for you. It was simply a summer program where you got to experience and be a part of the behind the scenes work that pushed the artists to the top. Three months working with some of the biggest k-pop artists, it wasn’t a big deal, that is until Boo Seungkwan entered your life and you both began to question the Company Policy.

Lee Chan

“PANG!” by @kkumawrites

Fem!reader || college au, strangers to friends to lovers, angst, drama || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･You'd consider yourself a simple college student, a freshman who just wants to survive their first year - but things get complicated when you're suddenly falling for someone you definitely shouldn't be, especially since he has a girlfriend already.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Fiancé” by @wondernus

ft. Pi Cheolin || est.relationship, romance, humour, mystery || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a mysterious pink fishing vest. a fiancé who wakes up in the middle of nowhere. and an upcoming wedding on the line. there's only so much you can take before you let your perfect future crumble before your eyes.

Unspecified End Game

“Choi Seungcheol Must Die” by @princessleechan

Fem!reader || Potential endgame: seungcheol, mingyu, seokmin, chan || college au, slight angst, romance, humour, eventual smut || Status:Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Mingyu wasn't the one with his heart broken. It was his little sister. And Seokmin's older sister. And Chan's best friend. Choi Seungcheol is a menace to society and needs to be put down. Immediately. The sure fire way to do it is to give him a taste of his own medicine: break his heart.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“REDAMANCY” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || Potential endgame: junhui, minghao || college au, slice of life, fluff, humour, romance || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･your best friend was lucky enough to have two boys pining after her. you on the other hand were unluckyenough to be in love with one of them.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Newsflash!” by @cupidhaos

University harem, angst, humour, fluff, slice of life || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･university life can be hard when you get caught up with the SVT boys

⤷“Move!” (sequel of Newsflash!)

University harem, angst, humour, fluff, slice of life, mystery || Status: Completed 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a new school year means new beginnings and new memories - but that can be hard with unfinished love stories in the way

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

[l2vedive]

DOUBLE TAKE w. joshua hong

wedding au ; kinda meeting the family trope + fluff and crack (730)

pairing: hong jisoo (joshua) x fem!reader

featuring: kim mingyu as your cousin

note: thought about this on a whim during a car ride to a wedding anniversary party i attended. enjoy !! please rb and like <3

you’re standing in a sea of pastel-dressed guests, the soft hum of chatter and clinking glasses filling the garden. it’s a beautiful evening—peach-coloured skies, fairy lights strung across trees, and the distant strains of a string quartet playing something vaguely familiar. you spot mingyu, your cousin and the groom of the lovely event, laughing with a few friends near the buffet table. he’s always been the golden boy of the family—charming, successful, and annoyingly smug about it.

and that’s when you see him.

joshua.

you’ve never personally met him before, only knowing about him during the wedding rehearsals as a former wedding singer about three years ago from one of the bride's band of bridesmaids. you thought to yourself about how with a face like that, how could anyone still be single. there’s no denial in that.

there was something about the way he carried himself while balancing a plate of hors d'oeuvres with an easy smile. he’s tall, lean, with a soft kind of confidence that doesn’t need to shout to be noticed. joshua looks up, and for a brief moment, your eyes meet.

your mind races. mingyu had spent the last week teasing you about being single, nudging you about how everyone in the family was settling down except you. “what’s taking so long? don’t you have anyone?” he’d asked with that insufferable grin.

and just like that, an idea blooms. a ridiculous one at that. a crazy idea that makes you hope would work despite not thinking about the logistics of it.

you make your way across the crowd, weaving through clusters of guests, until you’re standing right next to him. “hi,” you say, flashing your most disarming smile.

he glances at you, startled but polite. “uh, hi?”

“listen,” you lower your voice, leaning in slightly as you draw out the plan. “i know this is going to sound strange, but could you pretend to be my boyfriend? just for a moment. it’s complicated.”

joshua's brows shoot up in surprise, and you can see the gears turning in his head. “pretend ?” he echoes. “why?”

“i’ll explain later,” you promise, grabbing his arm before he can protest. “please, just trust me.”

before he can respond, you’re pulling him towards mingyu who is chatting up a few of the bride's own guests.

“gyu!” you call out in a tune, your voice bright and cheerful.

your cousin turns, grinning as always. “(your name), there you are!” he goes in for a hug before his eyes flicker to joshua, curiosity sparking. “and who’s this?”

you squeeze joshua’s arm lightly, as if urging him to play along. “this,” you announce with a casual confidence you don’t feel, “is joshua. my boyfriend .”

mingyu’s grin falters for a split second before he recovers. “boyfriend?” he repeats, a touch of disbelief colouring his tone.

“yes, boyfriend,” you reply smoothly, shooting mingyu a pointed look as if daring him to question you further.

joshua, to his credit, doesn’t miss a beat. the man next to you extends a hand, his expression friendly but calm. “nice to meet you, man. (your name) has told me a lot about you.”

mingyu shakes his hand, still looking slightly suspicious. “funny, she’s never mentioned you before.”

“oh, you know how she is,” joshua says with a laugh, playing along effortlessly. “always keeps me as her little secret.” you stand up a little bit straighter when you realise his hand has moved to rest on the small of your back.

you can’t help but feel a pang of gratitude for how natural he’s making this look.

but then mingyu’s eyes narrow, a sly grin creeping onto his face. “you must be serious if she’s introducing you now. what’s next? a wedding?”

you freeze, scrambling to think of an answer but joshua speaks up before you do. he chuckles, pulling you closer. “funny you should mention that,” he says, his tone light and teasing, “we’re actually engaged.”

“what ?! ” you and mingyu exclaim in unison, though for very different reasons.

you shoot joshua a wide-eyed look, but he just shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “you dragged me into this,” he whispers under his breath, lips barely moving, “might as well commit.”

mingyu looks utterly delighted. “engaged? well, this is news! congratulations, you two. shall i announce this during the toast? ooh, the family would be so glad to—,”

you cut him off before he could continue and eventually inform the rest of the guests about your endeavours. "everything's fine, thank you!"

“we’ll let you get back to hosting,” joshua says smoothly, steering you away from mingyu before the other man can protest.

once you’re safely out of earshot, you whirl around to face him. “engaged? really ? ”

joshua grins, entirely unapologetic. “what? you needed help, and it seemed like the logical next step.”

you stare at him, torn between annoyance and reluctant admiration. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet, you’re still holding my arm,” he points out, his smile softening.

“so, what’s the plan now, fiancée? ”

— please do not copy , translate or repost any of my works anywhere.

© l2vedive on tumblr

[itssunshinetoday]

~ the boyfriend pictures series

boyfriend pictures

[nevernonline]

✧.* secret love story; hjs

synopsis: the city has a way of weaving lives together, even when it feels like it's tearing them apart. joshua, the son of a powerful and conservative politician, and Y/N, a passionate artist pursuing her dream, find their paths entwined in the most unexpected way. despite their connection, their worlds could not be further apart.

paring: joshua x fem! reader. 

genre:strangers2whatever (hehe)  

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol) , swearing (? lol ), some nsfw stuff but not in grand details.

word count: 17k

content: . non-idol idolings.

note: non rlly edited prob weird typos, xo. 

The streets were alive that evening, thrumming with energy as crowds poured into the city’s arts district. The gallery’s entrance was understated, almost hidden among a row of boutique stores and cafes. Inside, warm light illuminated canvases that stretched across stark white walls. Each piece was a portal into a world of raw emotion—anger, love, despair, and hope.  

Y/N stood near the back of the room, dressed simply but elegantly in a flowy black dress, her hands clasped nervously. Tonight was important; her first big showcase had attracted more guests than she expected, and among them were critics, buyers, and fellow artists. She felt both exhilarated and overwhelmed.  

Joshua had no intention of being there. He wasn’t the art-gallery type. The night had started with a stiff political dinner where his father delivered a speech on preserving “traditional values.” Desperate for an escape, he wandered the streets until the flicker of light and soft murmur of voices and sounds of champagne bottles opening from the gallery caught his attention.  

The moment Joshua stepped inside, he felt like he had entered a new world. The hum of conversation was softer here, the clinking of glasses muted against the depth of the paintings. One in particular stopped him in his tracks—a portrait of two figures barely touching, their faces turned away from one another, as if trying to reach across an invisible barrier.  

“That one’s called Longing,” came a voice behind him.  

Joshua turned to see Y/N standing there, a faint smile on her face. He noticed the paint smudges on her fingers before he registered her striking presence.  

“It’s sort of haunting,” he said, almost in a whisper, his eyes returning to the painting. “There’s so much emotion in it. Like they want something they can’t have.”  

Y/N studied him for a moment, intrigued. Most visitors offered polite compliments, but this stranger seemed to feel the weight of her work.  

“That’s exactly it,” she said, stepping closer. “It’s about the space between people. How it can feel like a canyon, even when you’re standing right next to someone.”  

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the rest of the gallery seemed to fade.  

“Did you paint this?” Joshua asked.  

Y/N nodded. “I did.”  

“You’ve captured something… I didn’t think anyone else understood.” His voice was laced with an honesty that caught her off guard.  

As Y/N and Joshua wandered deeper into the gallery, their steps fell into an unspoken rhythm. The crowd ebbed and flowed around them, but it was as if they existed in their own pocket of space, where time slowed and words felt heavier.  

They stopped in front of a painting that was dominated by shades of crimson and deep blues, abstract brushstrokes that swirled and collided. The image was chaotic, almost violent, but there was a strange harmony in the madness.  

“This one’s intense,” Joshua murmured, tilting his head as he tried to decipher the emotions bleeding through the canvas.  

“Yeah. It’s called Collision,” Y/N said, folding her arms loosely. “It’s about how love and destruction can feel like the same thing sometimes.”  

Joshua’s eyes flicked to hers. “That’s a lot to admit.”  

Y/N shrugged, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Art is honesty, right? Even when it hurts.”  

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her longer than it should have. “And did it hurt when you painted it?”  

For a moment, Y/N hesitated. It wasn’t a question most people would ask. She saw something in Joshua’s expression—a quiet understanding, as if he wasn’t just asking about the painting but about her.  

“It did,” she said finally, her voice softer now. “But sometimes you have to let life hurt. Otherwise, you never move past it.”  

Joshua opened his mouth to reply but stopped himself. Instead, he turned back to the painting, his hands sliding into his pockets.  

“I get that,” he said after a moment. “I think most people spend their lives trying to avoid feeling too much. But you seem to embrace it.”  

Y/N’s chest tightened at his words. There was something disarming about the way he saw her, like he wasn’t just a passerby admiring her art but someone who wanted to understand the soul behind it.  

They moved to the next piece, a softer, more intimate painting of two hands reaching for each other across a sea of golden light.  

“This one’s different,” Joshua said, stepping closer. “It feels hopeful.”  

Y/N smiled. “You’re good at this.”  

“At what?”  

“Seeing things that other people miss.”  

Joshua chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe I’m just looking for things I need to see.”  

They lingered in front of the painting, their shoulders almost brushing. The conversation shifted, becoming lighter as they talked about their favorite colors, the books they loved, and the places they dreamed of visiting. Y/N told him about the inspiration behind her pieces—how they were often born from fleeting moments of emotion or memories she couldn’t shake. Joshua, in turn, shared small glimpses of his life, though he carefully avoided details that would reveal who he really was.  

At one point, they reached a painting that was tucked into a quieter corner of the gallery. It was smaller than the others, almost an afterthought, but it drew Joshua’s attention immediately. The image was of a single, delicate flower growing through a crack in a concrete sidewalk.  

“This one’s yours too?” he asked, leaning in to study the fine details.  

Y/N nodded. “Resilience.”  

Joshua smiled faintly. “I like it. There’s something defiant about it. Like it refuses to let the world crush it.”  

Y/N glanced at him, surprised by the depth of his observation. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”  

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the noise of the gallery melted away. The connection between them was palpable, a quiet understanding that neither of them could explain.  

“You’ve got a gift,” Joshua said, his voice low.  

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest, but she quickly deflected, unsure how to handle the intensity of his gaze. “Well, if this whole politics thing doesn’t work out for you, you’ve got a future as an art critic.”  

Joshua laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Noted.”  

As the night wore on, the crowd began to thin, but Joshua stayed by her side, moving from one painting to the next. Y/N found herself laughing more easily than she had in weeks, her initial nerves replaced by a sense of comfort she hadn’t expected.  

By the time they reached the last piece, a large abstract mural filled with vibrant yellows and oranges, Y/N realized she didn’t want the night to end. But as she turned to Joshua, she noticed the way his smile faltered, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face.  

“Everything okay?” she asked softly.  

Joshua nodded, but his eyes betrayed a storm of thoughts. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Sometimes you meet someone, and it feels like everything makes sense for a little while.”  

Y/N’s breath hitched. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she said nothing, letting the moment stretch between them.  

When they finally returned to the front of the gallery, Joshua paused at the door.  

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, his expression earnest. “Your work is incredible. And so are you.”  

That night, as Y/N cleaned up the gallery, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant had just begun—something both exhilarating and dangerous. Meanwhile, Joshua walked aimlessly through the city streets, replaying their conversation in his mind, already yearning for the next time he might see her.  

The days that followed their first meeting felt like a blur to Y/N. Her days were filled with painting, organizing new art shows, and dealing with the steady flow of clients who wanted to buy her work. But at night, when the city quieted and she was alone with her thoughts, all she could think about was her encounter with Joshua.  

It wasn’t just his compliments or the way he seemed to understand her art so deeply. It was the unspoken connection between them—the way their conversations flowed, how easy it was to talk to him, even when they barely knew each other. She found herself replaying their last conversation in her head, especially the way he’d spoken about “making sense” in the brief moments they shared.  

On the third evening after their gallery encounter, Y/N found herself standing in front of the window of her studio, staring out at the glittering skyline. It was late, past midnight, and the city hummed softly beneath the pale moonlight. She had just finished a new piece, but her mind kept returning to that last look Joshua had given her—the subtle sadness in his eyes, as if he had more to say but couldn’t.  

Then, as if summoned by her thoughts, her phone buzzed.  

It was a message from an unknown number.  

“I can’t stop thinking about your work. About you. Would you like to meet again? I know a quiet spot where we can talk more.” 

It took Y/N a moment to process it. The message was simple but deliberate. She didn’t even have to check the number; she already knew who it was. Joshua.  

Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly typed a response:  

“I’d like that. But how’d you get my number”  

Just as quickly as she could put her phone down two quick messages pinged back. 

“I have my ways. Haha.” 

“Just kidding, I took one of your business cards.” 

Later that night, Y/N made her way through the city streets, the cool air brushing against her skin. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but something about the idea of seeing him again felt right. It was like they were both caught in the same pull, a magnetic force neither could fully resist.  

The place Joshua had mentioned was a small, dimly lit café tucked away on a side street—a hidden gem most people passed by without noticing. The sign outside read La Lune, a name that seemed to shimmer against the dark backdrop of the city.  

When Y/N stepped inside, the soft scent of freshly brewed coffee, homemade spirits and pastries enveloped her. The café had a cozy, intimate feel, with small round tables lit by flickering candles. There was only one other couple in the corner, deep in conversation, leaving the rest of the space open and quiet.  

Joshua was sitting near the window, a cup of coffee in front of him. He looked different from the last time she’d seen him—more relaxed, his usual guarded expression replaced by something warmer, more open. He looked up when she entered, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.  

“Hi,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips.  

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, but she returned his smile, walking over to join him. “Hi,” she said, sitting down.  

“You look different tonight,” he commented, his gaze flickering over her. There was something in his eyes that made her feel like he was seeing not just her face but the person she was, the one she usually kept hidden behind layers of quiet confidence and artistic passion.  

“I could say the same about you,” Y/N replied, her voice low, almost shy. “There’s a kind of peace about you. Like you’re finally able to breathe. Maybe it’s also the jeans and the hoodie, a bit of both.”  

Joshua chuckled, the sound rich and genuine. “Maybe I am.” He paused, looking down at his coffee, as if unsure of how to continue. “Y/n..”  

She looked at him, sensing the shift in his tone. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to talk to you about something,” he said, his voice catching a little. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to steady his nerves. This wasn’t easy, not by any means. “I don’t want to hide from you. I don’t want you to feel like this is just some secret thing.”

She tilted her head, her gaze curious but understanding. “Joshua, you’re not making sense.”

“I know,” he said, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. He took a deep breath. “It’s just, the thing is, my family, my life—everything is so controlled, so planned. It’s like I’m not even my own person sometimes.”

Y/N stepped closer, her eyes softening. She knew that feeling all too well, the sense of being trapped by expectations.

Joshua’s hand clenched into a fist before he let it go, trying to calm himself. “My father. He’s a politician. A big one. He’s running for a major office, and everything about my life is about appearances. About what fits the image he wants to project. The last thing he would ever approve of is… well, us.” He paused, unsure how to say it without it sounding like an excuse. “My father’s life is a brand. And I’m just a part of that brand.”

Y/N’s heart ached as she listened. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the way he wrestled with the burden of his family’s expectations. It was as though every word he said about his father was another weight on his shoulders.

“But you’re not your father,” Y/N said softly, almost to herself. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch warm and steady. “You’re your own person, Joshua.”

He looked at her, his expression a mixture of frustration and uncertainty. “I know. But it’s hard to escape that. My dad… he doesn’t just want me to follow his path. He needs me to. Everything I do is calculated. Every relationship, every choice, every word. He has plans for me, for what he wants me to be.” He let out a shaky breath, his voice quieter now. “And that includes who I’m with.”

Y/N felt the depth of his confession like a weight on her own chest. She understood better now why he had been so reserved, why there had been that flicker of hesitation in his eyes when they first met. He wasn’t just trying to keep a secret about himself; he was trying to protect them both from a world that would never let them just be.

Joshua swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto hers. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m playing some kind of game with you. That this… what we have…” He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. “I know it’s complicated. But I can’t lie to you anymore.”

Y/N, for the first time since their first meeting, saw Joshua for who he truly was—someone who was desperately trying to hold on to a sliver of freedom in a world that demanded conformity. And yet, despite all of that, he had chosen to be with her.

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m not asking you to choose, Joshua. I’m not asking you to tear apart your life or go against your father. But I want to know the truth. If this is something we’re going to do, then I want us to be honest. No more secrets. No more hiding.”

Joshua’s breath caught in his throat. He had never imagined someone could understand him like this—someone who saw the conflict within him and didn’t push him away.

“I want that too,” he whispered, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. “I just don’t know what it’ll mean for us. What it’ll cost.”

Y/N leaned in slightly, meeting his gaze. “But, what happens if we’re caught? What happens if the world finds out about us?”  

Joshua’s eyes darkened, but there was no hesitation in his voice when he answered. “I don’t know. But I do know that right now, at this moment, none of that matters. We’re here. Together.”  

And in that moment, as their gazes locked, the world outside seemed to fall away. The noise of the city, the looming pressures of their separate lives, all disappeared. There was only the soft light of the café, the shared silence between them, and the undeniable pull of something that was just beginning to blossom.  

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart racing. “Alright,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Let’s see where this goes.”  

Joshua’s smile was the answer, and in that smile, she saw the promise of something neither of them could yet fully comprehend—but something they both wanted to explore.  

They spent hours there, talking about everything and nothing. It wasn’t just the art anymore; it was their thoughts, their fears, their dreams. They didn’t have all the answers, but they were learning to trust each other, bit by bit.  

And when the café began to empty, they stood together, reluctantly, as if the moment would stretch on forever.   

As they parted outside the café, the night air was cool, but the warmth of their conversation lingered, a promise of what might come. Before parting Joshua bent down kissing her softly on her cheek before escaping around the corner to meet his driver leaving her again in silence. Bud somewhere deep inside, they both knew they had crossed an invisible line. There was no going back now.

Their third encounter wasn’t planned at all. It was late, nearing midnight, when Y/N was walking down the familiar streets near her studio. Her thoughts were still clouded with the conversation they'd shared, her heart torn between the feelings she was developing for Joshua and the practical realities of their situation. How much longer could they keep pretending that the world around them wasn’t watching?

As she passed by the park, her phone buzzed in her pocket. The message was from an unknown number again.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about our last conversation. Can we meet tonight? I know it’s late, but I really need to talk to you. Just for a while.”

It was Joshua, and though the request was simple, there was an urgency to his words that tugged at her heart.

Without a second thought, she typed back: “I’m on my way. Where should I meet you?”

A moment later, he replied: “The rooftop of the building on 7th and Broadway. I’ll be waiting.”

Y/N arrived at the address in less than ten minutes. She took the elevator to the top floor, stepping out into the cool, crisp night air. The building was tall, overlooking the city skyline with the faint hum of traffic far below. Joshua was standing near the edge, his silhouette outlined by the lights of the city, but his focus was on the stars above.

"Joshua?" she called out softly.

He turned, his face lighting up as he saw her approach. He looked different tonight—more vulnerable, his eyes were slightly red, as if he’d been awake for hours, lost in thought.

"Hey," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for coming." He stepped aside, allowing her to join him by the ledge. The cool breeze tousled his hair as he looked out over the city, his jaw tight.

Y/N could sense something was weighing heavily on him. "What’s going on, Josh?" Her voice was calm, but her heart beat a little faster, sensing the tension in the air.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know how to say this without sounding like I’m complicating things more than they need to be, but I can’t keep pretending. I’ve spent my entire life following orders, fitting into a role that was decided for me before I could even understand what it meant to be free. And all of that changed when I met you." His voice dropped to a whisper as he turned to face her. "I didn’t expect to care this much. I didn’t expect you to mean this much to me."

Y/N’s heart twisted as she listened to him, her chest aching with the weight of his words.

"Joshua," she began, her voice soft but steady, "I told you yesterday, I’m not asking you to choose between me and your family. I know it’s complicated. But I need you to be honest with me. Completely honest." She took a small step toward him, closing the distance. "What’s really going on?"

He looked at her, eyes searching hers for a moment, before his gaze fell. "My father… he’s pushing me to follow in his footsteps. To run for office. To become what he always wanted me to be—a political heir, someone who will represent his legacy. I’ve done everything for him, for years, without questioning it." He ran a shaky hand through his hair again, his frustration palpable. "And now that I’ve met you I can’t keep lying to myself. I don’t know how to balance the two, Y/N. My father’s expectations and what I feel when I’m with you. The life he’s created for me, and the life I want to build for myself."

Y/N felt the weight of his words, understanding the gravity of the decision that was looming over him. "So what does that mean for us?" Her voice cracked ever so slightly. She hated that question, but she had to ask it—because if this was something real, they couldn’t just ignore the obstacles.

Joshua looked at her, his expression one of both sorrow and determination. "It means that I’m torn, Y/N. It means that I can’t walk away from my family, no matter how much I want to. But it also means that I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want this, that I don’t want you."

For a long moment, the world felt like it stood still. The city lights shimmered below them, but the weight of their conversation filled the air between them. Y/N didn’t know what to say at first. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it was going to be okay, but she didn’t know if it would be.

"You don’t have to choose right now," Y/N said finally, her voice steady but tender. "I won’t push you. But I need to know if you’re going to let me in. If you’re going to let this go somewhere."

Joshua reached out, taking her hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. "I am. I want to. But I’m scared. If I choose this, I could lose everything. And I’m not sure I’m ready to lose it all."

Y/N squeezed his hand in return, looking up at the stars. "Then we’ll take it one step at a time. We’ll figure it out. But I need you to be honest with me. No more secrets."

Joshua’s eyes softened, a mixture of relief and apprehension in them. "I promise. No more secrets."

The night on the rooftop was heavy with unspoken emotions. The city beneath them seemed to hold its breath, the lights from the streets below flickering like distant stars. Y/N and Joshua sat closely together, wrapped in the shared weight of their conversation. The air between them was thick, but despite the tension, there was an undeniable connection—something that was only growing stronger with each passing moment.

Joshua’s hand remained in hers, a silent gesture of reassurance. He had opened up about the impossible choice between his father’s expectations and what he wanted for himself. But as they sat there, surrounded by the vastness of the night sky, he could feel the pull of both worlds, tugging at him in different directions.

Y/N, sensing the internal battle raging within him, looked at him with a soft, steady gaze. Her heart ached for him, but she knew this wasn’t just about her and him—it was about the life he had been forced to live for so long, the cage built by his family’s demands. It was a cage she couldn’t just break down for him. He had to find his way out.

"Josh," she began, her voice quiet but unwavering, "I don’t expect everything to be easy. I know there are things in your life you’re still figuring out. And I won’t pretend that it’s not complicated. But…" She paused, squeezing his hand gently, "I’m okay with us being a secret for now. I’m okay with whatever pace you need to go at."

He looked at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "Y/N, you don’t—"

"No," she interrupted softly, her voice firm but kind. "I know you didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for me to be a part of all this crazy ass mess." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "But I’m okay with it. I understand the pressure you’re under, the weight of your family and everything they expect from you. I know you can’t just throw all of that away, not yet. And if that means we need to keep this between us, just for a while, I’m okay with that."

Joshua stood there, struck by the calmness in her voice. The way she spoke, with such grace and understanding, made him feel both guilty and relieved at the same time. He had been so focused on what he might lose that he hadn’t considered what he could still gain. Y/N wasn’t pushing him. She wasn’t demanding him to choose between her and his family. She was simply giving him space to figure it out.

“I don’t want to drag you into something messy,” he said, his voice low. “You deserve more than that. You deserve someone who can be fully present with you. Not someone who has to hide, who can’t give you all of them.”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes meeting him with such sincerity that it took his breath away. “I’m not asking for all of you right now. I’m asking for what you can give. And if that means a little distance, a little secrecy, I can handle that. I don’t need you to be perfect.. I just need you to be real. That’s all I want. And if it’s just us for now, at this moment, I’m okay with that.”

Her words were like a balm to his restless soul, soothing the anxiety that had been gnawing at him since they’d met. The weight of his father’s expectations, the pressure of his family’s desires, it had all been consuming. But here, with Y/N—this unexpected, complex, beautiful woman—he felt the possibility of something different. Something real.

Joshua’s throat tightened as he fought back the overwhelming rush of emotion. “I don’t deserve that,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“Don’t say that,” Y/N replied, her voice gentle yet firm. “You don’t have to be perfect to deserve someone or something, Joshua. We all have our struggles, our burdens. But that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve the good things that come into our lives. I don’t expect you to have it all figured out. I just expect us to keep being honest with each other.”

The simplicity of her words struck him deep in his chest. He had been so afraid of losing everything—his family, his reputation, his future—that he hadn’t realized what was in front of him: someone who cared for him enough to give him time. Someone who wasn’t trying to force him into a corner but was willing to walk beside him, patiently, as he navigated the mess of his own life.

"You're willing to wait?" Joshua asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “I’m willing to wait as long as it takes. But only if you’re being true to yourself. If you’re honest with me, with us. That’s the only condition. I can’t be a part of something where there’s no truth.”

Joshua took a deep breath, finally feeling the relief of not carrying this weight alone. He had spent so long living in the shadow of his family’s expectations, not daring to reach for anything of his own. But with Y/N, he could feel the space to breathe. To be himself. Even if it had to be in secret for now.

"Then I promise you, no more secrets," he said, his voice steady and determined. "I can’t promise when or how, but I’ll figure this out. I’ll do it for me… and for you."

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers gently tracing the back of his hand. “That’s all I need from you. And whatever happens, we’ll handle it together.”

For the first time since they had met, Joshua felt a spark of hope in his chest. The future was uncertain, yes, but with Y/N beside him—even if only in the quiet moments they shared in secret—he felt like he could face whatever came next.

The night stretched on, the soft wind blowing through their hair as they stood side by side on the rooftop, their hearts racing in tandem with the unspoken bond they were forming. There was no easy answer, no perfect solution to their complicated lives, but in that moment, under the stars, they both knew they were no longer alone.

The days following their rooftop conversation were a mixture of clarity and confusion. Joshua had promised to be true to himself and to her, and Y/N had given him the space to navigate his complicated life. The truth of their situation was clear—there were forces at play beyond their control, pulling them in different directions. But their bond was undeniable.

The world around them continued to churn, but in the small moments they shared, they found a sanctuary from the noise. Every secret phone call and text, every late night conversation, every touch held more meaning than any overt declaration. But as the days passed, Y/N began to feel the weight of their secret growing heavier, even if she hadn’t voiced it to him.

It was a Tuesday evening when Joshua reached out again. He hadn’t been as present the past few days, consumed by meetings with his father and the increasing pressure from his family. Y/N knew better than to demand answers right away. She had learned to let him come to her in his own time. But tonight, she felt a familiar pull—an invitation to meet, one that didn’t need to be spoken.

They agreed to meet at a quiet spot on the edge of town. The kind of place where no one would recognize them, and for a few stolen hours, they could pretend like the world wasn’t watching.

When Y/N walked in, she spotted him immediately. He was sitting at the back, his posture tense as usual, though his gaze softened when he saw her approach. As she slid into the seat opposite him, he reached out and took her hand, placing a kiss on her palm, his touch warm but reluctant, he feared she might disappear if he let go.

“I’m glad you came,” Joshua said quietly, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "I needed to see you. Badly"

Y/N smiled back, though there was something in her chest that felt tight. "Of course. How’s everything going with your father?" she asked, trying to gauge where he was emotionally, where they stood.

Joshua’s smile faltered, and for the first time in days, he looked like the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “It's really not great. The pressure’s getting worse. He’s set his sights on me running for office next year. I can't escape it, Y/N. Every conversation, every meeting, it all comes back to what he fucking wants for me, not what I want for myself."

Y/N’s heart sank. She knew how much he wanted to carve out his own path, to escape the shadow of his family’s empire. She had heard the desperation in his voice on the rooftop—he was battling not just his father’s expectations, but his own sense of who he was and what he was becoming.

"I can’t make that decision for you," she said, her voice steady. "But I do know this—you don’t have to figure it all out alone. I’m here, Joshua. I told you before that  want you to be honest with me, but I also want to help you, however I can."

Joshua squeezed her hand, his eyes holding hers with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "I don’t know what you see in me, Y/N," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I feel like I’m falling apart, and I don’t want to drag you down with me. You deserve someone who’s free to give you everything. But I can’t walk away from you. I can’t let you go."

The raw honesty in his words made Y/N’s chest tighten. She had never expected an easy journey, not with the weight of his world pressing on them both, but hearing his confession—his fears, his doubts—made her feel both helpless and resolved. She was willing to wait, to let him find his way, but it was hard, harder than she had anticipated. She wanted him to choose her, but she knew it wasn’t that simple.

"I’m not asking for all of you right now," she said softly. "I can handle that. But I can’t be invisible forever, Joshua. I need to know that when this all comes to a head, you’re choosing us."

Joshua’s eyes darkened as he heard the unspoken fear in her voice. “I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do. I feel like I’m suffocating in this life, in this expectation. And every time I try to make a choice for myself, for us, it feels like there’s something I’ll lose.” His hand, still holding hers, trembled slightly.

Y/N took a deep breath, her voice firm. "I don’t expect you to give up everything. But I need to know that you’re willing to take the risk, Joshua. That when the time comes, you won’t let fear hold you back from what could be right in front of you."

He was silent for a long moment, lost in thought, before he spoke again, his voice tight with emotion. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to please people, trying to be what everyone else wants me to be. But when I’m with you, I feel like I’m someone else. Someone I could be proud of. But then reality hits, and I realize how impossible it all seems."

Y/N’s heart ached. She could see the internal struggle in his eyes, the pull between his desire for freedom and the loyalty to a life that had been carved out for him long before he even understood the weight of it.

“I’m not asking you to be perfect, Joshua,” she said gently.

Joshua’s eyes searched hers, as though trying to gauge the sincerity of her words. "Are you sure you can handle this? I’m not asking you to wait forever. I’m just asking for time."

Y/N smiled softly, her thumb brushing over his hand, the small, tender gesture a stark contrast to the heaviness of the conversation. She could feel his fingers trembling, the silent weight of his uncertainty pressing down on them both. It was one of those moments where words felt both inadequate and necessary, where honesty, however painful, was the only thing that could bridge the distance between them.

"I’m not asking for forever, either," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside her.

She looked up at him then, meeting his gaze with an openness that seemed to both reassure and break her at the same time. “I’m not asking you to make any big decisions right now. All I want is for you to be true to yourself. And when the time comes—when you figure out what you really want—I’ll be ready for whatever decision you make. I just need you to be honest with me.” 

Joshua’s eyes widened slightly, the weight of her words settling into his chest. He wanted to speak, to reassure her that he didn’t want to hurt her, but she pressed on, her tone still gentle, but her words cutting through the air with an edge of pain he hadn’t expected.

“But if it’s not me, let me down gently.” She paused, her lips pressing together as if the thought itself hurt too much to fully voice. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she continued, her hand still held tightly in his. “I don’t want any drama. I don’t want to fight or beg. Avoid me, ignore me, don’t contact me. Cut it off—no words needed. I can handle the silence. I just need to know that when you’re ready, when you’ve made up your mind, that you’ll walk away without dragging it out. No false hope. No lingering, no ‘maybe. Just... a clean break.”

The words seemed to hang in the air between them, the enormity of what she was saying sinking in. She wasn’t asking for him to promise her forever—just honesty. And in that moment, she realized how much she had come to depend on him, how much she had opened her heart to him, even if he hadn’t yet decided what to do with it. 

Joshua felt his chest tighten as he listened, his heart twisting painfully. He had never heard her speak like this before—not with so much quiet strength, but also so much vulnerability. Her willingness to step back, to give him the space he needed to make his choices, was both a gift and a heart-wrenching challenge. She was preparing herself for the worst—*just in case*—and it cut him deeper than he expected. She wasn’t demanding anything of him. She wasn’t forcing him into a decision. She was just asking for his truth. And even though it broke her, she was willing to accept the reality of it. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N,” Joshua finally said, his voice cracking with the weight of the promise he wasn’t sure he could make. “I’ve never wanted to be the kind of man who causes pain especially after how my father treated me, but I don’t know how to give you the certainty you’re asking for. Not yet. Not until I’ve figured out what this all means.”

She squeezed his hand, a soft, understanding smile playing at her lips, though her heart ached at the uncertainty in his voice. “I know that. I know you're not trying to hurt me. And I’m not asking you to make it easy. I’m asking you to be honest. When you know, when you’re sure, I just need you to do it with respect, Joshua. To respect me enough to not leave me wondering, to not drag things out for both of us. That’s all I ask.”

There was a long pause, a silence that was heavy with the weight of their unspoken emotions. Joshua could feel the sincerity of her words, the depth of her understanding, but it only added to the guilt gnawing at him. He hadn’t made his decision yet—he wasn’t ready to. And the thought of cutting her out of his life, of hurting her, was something he couldn’t bear to think about.

“I’m scared, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of losing you. But I’m also scared that if I take this too fast, I’ll hurt you in a way I can’t undo. I don’t know what’s right, but I do know that I don’t want to lose you.”

Y/N’s smile softened, but there was a sadness in her eyes that mirrored his. She understood the weight of his fear—the fear of making the wrong choice, the fear of hurting her. But she also knew that sometimes, not making a choice was the worst thing of all. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, her voice steady but soft. “But you need to know that whatever decision you make, I’ll be okay. It will hurt, but I’ll be okay. And I’ll respect whatever choice you make. The way you make your decision, what I just said, let me down easy. That’s all I need from you.”

For a moment, the silence between them felt like an unspoken agreement. Y/N had laid her heart on the line—no strings attached, no demands beyond honesty. And Joshua, despite his own fear, felt a deep sense of gratitude for the space she was giving him, for the patience, even when it hurt.

As they sat there, their hands still entwined on the table between them, there was no grand declaration. There were no promises. But there was understanding. 

Y/N was giving him the time he needed, but she wasn’t going to allow herself to stay in the dark forever. She had been clear: when the time came, she would let go. And as painful as it was, Joshua knew that she deserved that honesty. 

“I won’t drag it out,” Joshua said quietly, the words heavy with meaning. “I promise. When I know, I’ll tell you. You deserve nothing less.”

Y/N nodded, her heart both lightened and heavy at once. “That’s all I can ask for.”

Joshua smiled, not wanting their secret rendezvous to end, “Can we go somewhere private? Just us tonight? No more parents and stress?” 

Y/N’s smile deepened at the thought of giving them both an escape, a place to simply be. As much as they both craved answers, tonight wasn’t about decisions or heavy conversations—it was about being in the moment. Her heart ached for Joshua, for the burden he carried, but she also knew that moments like this—moments where they could simply exist together without outside pressures—were rare. She wasn’t sure how much longer they would have before life caught up to them again. But tonight, they were going to make it count.

“I have just the place,” Y/N replied, her voice soft yet certain, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. 

Joshua’s heart lifted at her words. The thought of being with her, completely alone, away from the prying eyes and expectations, filled him with relief. 

Y/N stood up, reaching for her coat, the motion almost fluid. "It’s a little out of the way, but that’s the point," she explained, a teasing glint in her voice. "No distractions. Just us."

As they walked toward her car, the city seemed quieter than usual. The night was crisp, but there was an undeniable warmth in the way they moved together, side by side, as if the world beyond them could wait for just a few hours.

Joshua was still processing her words from earlier. The way she had calmly laid out her heart, vulnerable yet resolute, asking for nothing but honesty. He couldn’t help but admire her strength and grace, and yet it made him ache with the knowledge that, despite everything, he was still caught between two worlds.

But for tonight, that didn’t matter. Tonight was about creating a moment that was theirs, free from the weight of it all.

The drive took them through winding roads, the city’s lights fading as they ventured further out. Y/N didn’t say much along the way—she didn’t need to. She could tell Joshua was deep in thought his hand rested on her thigh as she pressed the gas pedal, and she was content to let him reflect. 

Eventually, they arrived at a secluded cottage nestled at the edge of a wooded area. The house was small, but cozy, a soft glow spilling from the windows, suggesting warmth inside. The scent of wood and fresh air greeted them as Y/N led him to the door, pulling out a key from her pocket.

Joshua looked around, taking in the quiet surroundings. The cottage stood alone in the middle of a forested area, the trees surrounding them like old, protective sentinels. It was the perfect place to get away from everything.

“Is this your place?” Joshua asked, his voice a mixture of surprise and curiosity. 

Y/N nodded, opening the door. "It’s my little sanctuary. I come here to clear my head, to escape when things get too overwhelming. Get inspired, all the good shit.  I thought it might be nice for us to have somewhere to just be. No judgment."

As they stepped inside, the warmth wrapped around them. There was something calming about the space—dim lighting, a fire crackling softly in the hearth, and simple, comfortable furniture. The living room smelled of lavender and wood smoke, the air clean and fresh. A large window in the corner framed a peaceful view of the forest, its dark trees swaying gently in the breeze. 

Y/N made her way to the kitchen area and quickly began preparing a small spread—cheese, crackers, some fruit, and a bottle of wine she’d bought earlier. “I thought we could just relax. Have something to eat, talk if we feel like it, or not. No pressure.”

Joshua couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness behind her gesture. There was something about the simplicity of the moment—no fancy dinner or grand gestures—just the two of them, in this quiet, serene space. He felt his shoulders relax for the first time in what seemed like forever.

He moved to her side as she set the table, gently brushing her hair from her face, his touch soft and affectionate. "This is perfect, Y/N," he said quietly, his voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you for this."

She smiled at him, her eyes meeting him with a look of understanding and tenderness. "Anything for you. I also have some pajamas and extra stuff just in case, you know, you want to stay.”

As they settled into the small, cozy space with their food and drink, they spoke less, letting the comfort of being together speak for itself. The fire crackled in the background, and the only sounds were the occasional clink of a wine glass or the rustling of leaves outside. It was a soft kind of peace—a feeling neither of them had realized they were missing so deeply.

As the evening wore on, they moved to the couch by the fire. Y/N leaned her head against Joshua’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body beside hers, another opened bottle of wine resting on the coffee table. She could feel the tension slowly leave him, the constant hum of responsibility fading into the background. 

Joshua draped an arm around her, pulling her closer, his voice low as he spoke. "You know, for a moment, I almost feel like everything’s going to be okay."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. “What do you mean?”

“Like, I’m not sure where all of this is heading, but I don’t feel as lost as I did before. Being here with you in this house which by the way I cannot believe you were holding out on me. It’s like I can breathe again.”

Her heart swelled, knowing how much those words meant to him. "You deserve to breathe, Josh. To find your way.. For tonight, for this moment, I’m happy just being here. Find some sanctuary in my sanctuary you know. The reason I didn’t show you yet is just because I wasn’t sure you’d want to come. I don’t know."

Joshua looked down at her, his eyes soft and full of unspoken gratitude. "Of course I’d want to come, I love being in nature, I don’t get much of it anymore. I don’t know how to thank you for this. For everything."

Y/N smiled, her fingers tracing his hand. "You don’t need to thank me. You’re here, with me. That’s more than enough."

And in that simple, perfect moment, they found something that transcended all the confusion, all the questions that loomed over them. It wasn’t answers they needed tonight—it was each other. They didn’t need to speak about the future or dwell on what came next. Tonight, there was just them—existing, breathing, and finding comfort in the shared silence.

The room was bathed in a warm, golden glow as the fire crackled quietly in the corner. Outside, the wind rustled the trees, but inside the cottage, it felt like time had slowed. Y/N and Joshua sat on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped around her waist, pulling her closer. There was no rush, no need to speak. The mere presence of each other felt like enough. 

Y/N’s breath evened out as she relaxed further into his side, her fingers absently tracing the fabric of his shirt. The simplicity of the moment, their quiet togetherness, felt like a reprieve from the complexities of their lives. She was learning the art of just being with him—no expectations, no demands. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her cheek, steady and warm, and it calmed her in a way nothing else could.

Joshua, for his part, had his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted as he allowed the quiet to fill the spaces where his mind had been racing just hours before. There was something about the softness of Y/N’s presence, the fact that she didn’t need anything from him but his company, that allowed him to drop the walls he often kept up. Her proximity, her stillness beside him, felt like an anchor—a place where he could feel like his old self. And for once, he didn’t feel the constant weight of his obligations pulling him in a thousand directions.

The firelight flickered across the room, casting shadows that danced on the walls, and there was an undeniable chemistry between them—a quiet, simmering tension that had been building ever since their first meeting. It wasn’t forceful. It was gentle, like the slow, inevitable pull of gravity. Neither of them spoke about it, but it was there, in the way their hands brushed together, in the way their breath seemed to sync as they sat together, their bodies unconsciously leaning closer, drawn by an invisible thread.

Joshua shifted slightly, turning his head to glance at her. His lips curved in a small, almost imperceptible smile, but his eyes were darker than usual, full of something unspoken—something that pulsed between them like a quiet storm. Y/N caught his gaze, and for a moment, everything else seemed to disappear. 

Her fingers, still resting on his chest, curled into his shirt, her touch light but deliberate. She could feel the subtle tension in him, the way his breath caught slightly when her hand brushed over the soft skin at his collarbone. There was a pull, a magnetic force drawing them closer, but neither of them wanted to rush it. The silence between them grew thicker, more intimate, but it was safe.

Y/N felt the heat rising between them, but she stayed where she was, her head nestled against him, eyes closed, letting the moment stretch out. She didn’t want to overthink it. This wasn’t about the perfect timing or making a move—it was just about being in the moment with him, together, without needing anything else. 

But then, after what felt like an eternity of quiet, Joshua’s hand moved, just a subtle shift, and before Y/N could even register it fully, his fingers gently brushed against her jaw, coaxing her to look up at him. The tenderness of his touch sent a shiver through her, and she lifted her eyes to meet him, finding the depth of something she hadn’t quite understood before—something that both scared and comforted her all at once.

His thumb lightly traced the line of her lower lip, his gaze flickering between her eyes and her mouth, as though he was trying to read her, trying to gauge whether the moment was right. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening. There was no question now—they had crossed some unspoken boundary. The room seemed to hold its breath, and for a heartbeat, the world outside was irrelevant. It was just the two of them, here, in this space.

“Y/N,” he murmured her name like a prayer, his voice low and raspy, filled with a need that neither of them could deny. The sound of her name on his lips felt like a promise, but it also held the weight of everything unspoken between them.

She lifted her hand to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palm. Her gaze softened as she studied his face, seeing the conflict there, the vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored her own. ‘Is this what we want?’ The question hung in the air, but neither of them dared to voice it. Instead, Y/N leaned in slightly, just enough to close the space between them, her breath mingling with his. 

Joshua’s eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment as he felt the shift between them, the pull that neither of them could ignore. He exhaled slowly, and when he opened his eyes again, he found Y/N’s lips inches from his. 

At that moment, everything else seemed to blur. There was no more thinking, no more hesitation. It wasn’t about the future, or the decisions they hadn’t yet made—it was about now. It was about feeling this connection, this undeniable chemistry, this quiet, intimate understanding between them.

He closed the distance between them then, his lips meeting hers in a soft, slow kiss—one that spoke of everything they hadn’t said, all the emotions they had buried deep inside. It was a kiss that was both tender and intense, full of quiet longing and unspoken promises. It was a kiss that asked for nothing more than the moment, the comfort, the closeness of shared space.

Y/N’s hand slid up to his neck, pulling him in closer, her body instinctively leaning into his as the kiss deepened. The heat between them grew, but it was still gentle—unhurried. It was a kiss that let them feel each other, without rushing toward anything. At that moment, they didn’t need words. They didn’t need answers.

Joshua’s hand slid from her face to her hair, tangling in the soft strands as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tracing the curve of her neck. Y/N responded in kind, her body now in his lap, hand resting against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath as the kiss grew more urgent, more desperate. Yet, there was still a softness to it, a care, a respect for the vulnerability they were both sharing.

As they finally pulled away, breathless, their foreheads touched lightly, their breaths coming in soft gasps. The silence between them was no longer empty—it was full, rich with connection, understanding, and something deeper that neither of them had been ready to name.

“Are you okay?” Joshua asked, his voice low, his forehead still resting against hers. His hands rested gently on her waist, as if waiting for her to pull away or to say something that would break the tension.

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m more than okay,” she whispered. 

Joshua’s chest tightened at her words, the weight of the unspoken between them finally easing. They didn’t need to know what came next. They didn’t need to define it. All that mattered was that, in this quiet moment, they had found something real—something beautiful and fragile, but something worth holding on to, even if only for tonight.

“I don’t want to rush it,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something deeper, something tender. He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips grazing her soft skin. “But I’m not going to lie, I don’t have enough strength right now to pull away from you.”

His words, so simple yet heavy with meaning, made her heart flutter. She nodded slowly, her fingers moving to trace the line of his jaw, her touch delicate, as if he were something fragile she didn’t want to break. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. 

The unspoken invitation hung in the air between them, thick with anticipation. For a moment, neither of them moved. They just looked at each other, as if silently questioning whether this moment was real, whether they could allow themselves to embrace it fully.

Joshua closed the distance between them then, his lips finding hers again, this time with more urgency, more purpose. The kiss was different now—not just tender, but hungry, as though the silence between them had been filled with all the words neither of them had said. There was an ache in it, a quiet, aching need to be closer, to erase the distance that had existed between them for far too long.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as the kiss deepened. She responded with equal intensity, her hands moving to his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. His hands, which had been resting on her waist, now slid to her back, pulling her even closer. The space between them evaporated as he cradled her against him, their bodies pressed together in a way that felt both intimate and comforting.

Her pulse quickened as she felt the weight of him against her, his chest rising and falling in time with hers. The kiss grew more frantic, both of them caught in the whirlwind of emotions they had carefully held at bay. There were no more words, just the sensation of their lips moving together, the heat building between them.

Joshua’s hand slid down to her waist, then to the small of her back, gently urging her closer as he deepened the kiss even further. He could feel the softness of her skin beneath his touch, the way her body seemed to melt against his. Every inch of him wanted to be closer, to lose himself in the feeling of her. And yet, there was a part of him still holding back, still unsure, still afraid of what would happen once this moment ended.

But at that moment, Y/N seemed to read his hesitation. She pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes, her lips still tingling from the kiss. Her gaze was steady, but there was a question in her eyes—a silent invitation to continue, to let go of the fears they both carried.

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice breathless but sure. “You don’t have to hold back. Not tonight.”

Joshua’s breath caught at her words, the weight of them sinking in. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes—the trust she was offering him, the understanding that whatever came next, they would navigate it together. There was no pressure. No expectations. Just the two of them, finding comfort in each other.

With a quiet exhale, Joshua nodded, his hand gently cupping her cheek as he leaned in once more, this time more slowly, more deliberately. He kissed her with a gentleness that was new, but that spoke volumes. He wasn’t rushing anymore. He was simply present, lost in the moment, in her.

Her hands slid to the collar of his shirt, fingers trembling slightly as she tugged it from where it had come untucked, urging him to shed the layers between them. Joshua let her, his own hands moving to gently lift her shirt just enough to feel the soft curve of her back, the warmth of her skin. Neither of them said anything as the kiss broke, but their eyes met again—soft, full of desire, yet still respectful, still understanding.

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly helped her out of her shirt, his hands moving with deliberate care, making sure every move was in sync with hers. Next unclasping the simple black bra she had placed under. They both needed this—needed to shed the layers that had kept them apart, to let their vulnerability, their need for one another, unfold in the safety of the quiet room.

Joshua pulled her closer again, feeling her body against his. There was no rush now, no need for words. The room was filled only with the sound of their breaths, the crackling of the fire, and the steady rhythm of their hearts beating in time with one another.

As their lips met once more, this time, it wasn’t just the heat of the kiss, the desire that had built between them—it was the deep, unspoken understanding that whatever came next, they were in it together. No barriers. No secrets.

Just the two of them, finally letting go. 

The following morning, Y/N woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. For a moment, she just lay there, her eyes tracing the outline of Joshua’s figure beside her, the rise and fall of his chest a calming rhythm. She could feel his warmth, his steady presence beside her, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself forget about everything that still hung between them—his family, his obligations, the secret they both kept.

But it was all still there, quietly waiting in the shadows. Closer than either one of them knew.

Joshua stirred beside her, his hand instinctively reaching out to pull her closer, his fingers grazing over the curve of her back. He didn’t speak at first, just letting the warmth of the moment settle between them. 

Joshua’s phone buzzed softly on the nightstand. The sudden interruption of their calm was a stark contrast to the quiet intimacy they had just shared. He reached for the phone, not thinking much of it at first, just expecting a message from his family or a reminder of the day’s busy schedule. But as he unlocked the screen, his heart dropped.

An email notification blinked up at him from his inbox, the sender name familiar—yet completely unexpected.

Subject: Exclusive: The Life of Joshua Hong and his Secret Love (The Untold Story)From: journalist@cityscenenews.com

The words caught him off guard. His pulse quickened as he clicked open the email, fear prickling along his spine. The article was already live, complete with images—images that left no room for doubt. It was a professional expose, a journalist’s careful investigation into his hidden relationship with Y/N, revealing everything from the quiet, secret dates to the intimate moments they had shared in public spaces.

The headline alone felt like a betrayal, and the further he read, the worse it got. The article wasn’t just a casual mention. It was a detailed account of their time together, with quotes from “anonymous sources” and observations from people who had seen them around town, careful not to reveal their identities but piecing together a narrative that felt all too real.

Excerpt from the article:

"Joshua Hong, heir to Benet Enterprises, has been quietly involved with an undisclosed woman for several months now. Sources close to the couple say that their relationship has been marked by secrecy, with the couple often seen slipping in and out of exclusive venues. While the relationship appears to be purely romantic, the question remains: Will Hong continue to keep his personal life hidden, or is this the beginning of a much larger scandal?"

The article went on to speculate about the hidden layers of his family life, the pressure from his father to conform to a certain image, and the ramifications this secret relationship could have on both their futures.

Joshua froze, his mind reeling as his eyes flickered over the content. The carefully guarded life he had worked so hard to protect now felt like it was slipping through his fingers, exposed for the world to see. And worst of all, Y/N was wrapped up in this too, her privacy shattered by the sharp edge of a journalist’s pen.

He felt the weight of the world pressing down on him as he tried to make sense of the situation. He couldn’t help but glance at Y/N, fading back into sleep beside him, unaware of what was unfolding. She looked so peaceful, her hair splayed out across his chest, her face soft and free of worry.

But that peace was short-lived.

Joshua’s phone buzzed again, this time a call coming in. He saw the name on the screen and felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

Dad.

He inhaled sharply, still holding the phone, trying to steady his nerves. He didn’t want to wake Y/N—not like this. But he knew that the reality of their situation couldn’t stay hidden for long. His father had no doubt already read the article. The pressure of his family’s expectations would come crashing down soon enough.

“Y/N,” he whispered, gently nudging her awake. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, still groggy from sleep, but when she saw his expression, the concern in his gaze, her heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice soft but alert, her hand reaching for him as she sat up.

He handed her the phone without a word, watching as her expression changed from confusion to shock as she read the headline.

Her eyes lifted to meet his. The silence stretched between them for a moment, both of them absorbing the weight of what had just been thrust into their lives.

“I.. What the fuck?” Y/N said, her voice quiet, filled with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. She shook her head, still processing what was unfolding. “How did this happen? We were so careful…”

Joshua didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know how the journalist had pieced it all together—maybe someone had seen them together in the park or overheard a conversation at the gallery. Or perhaps someone closer to his world had leaked the information, knowing that the his family was a story worth telling.

“I’m so sorry,” Joshua said, his voice tight with frustration. “I never wanted you to be dragged into this. I thought we could keep it private, at least for a little while longer.”

Y/N’s hand found his again, gripping it with quiet strength. “It’s not your fault,” she said, her voice steady. “It’s just... This is bigger than we thought.”

Joshua sighed heavily, looking down at the article again, but this time he saw it from a different angle. They could try to fight it, deny it, but the story was already out there. The public would talk, his father would demand answers, and the world would judge. There was no turning back.

“I need to talk to my dad,” he said quietly, standing up from the bed, his thoughts racing.

Y/N watched him with concern, but she didn’t try to stop him. She knew this was something he had to face. But she also knew that whatever happened next, things between them would never be the same. They had been living in a fragile world, hiding behind walls of secrecy. Now those walls were crumbling, and there was no escaping the fallout.

“I’ll be here,” Y/N said softly, watching him leave the room. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The air was thick with tension as Joshua stood at the front of his father’s study, staring out the large window at the sprawling estate below. He had been here countless times before, but today it felt different—his father’s looming presence, the weight of his legacy hanging in the air, and the article still echoing in his mind.

The door opened behind him, and his father entered, his expression cold and unreadable.

“Well, it looks like you fucked up, Joshua. It was only a matter of time, really, I knew I couldn’t keep you away from disobeying me for long,” his father said, his tone devoid of surprise. “I didn’t expect it to come this way, but I suppose it was inevitable.”

Joshua turned slowly, meeting his father’s gaze. “I didn’t want it to come out like this. You know how important it is to me that our family stays out of the spotlight.”

His father raised an eyebrow, stepping further into the room. “The world doesn’t care what you want, Joshua. They care about my name. You can’t play both sides of this game. You have to choose.”

Joshua’s stomach tightened. “I’m not asking for your approval. I’m not asking for anything. This is about me—and I’m not letting anyone control that anymore. Not even you.”

His father’s expression hardened. “You don’t understand the consequences of your actions. You think you can fucking have it all—a private life and the family business—but the truth is, Joshua, you can’t.”

Joshua stood tall, meeting his father’s gaze with the kind of determination he had never shown before. “I’m done living in your shadow. I’m done being what you want me to be.”

For a moment, the room was quiet, the weight of Joshua’s words hanging in the air.

Then his father spoke, his voice softer but still laced with authority. “You’ll learn soon enough, son. Life isn’t as simple as you think it is.”

Joshua stood face to face with his father, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The room felt colder than usual, the vast space echoing with silence and the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold.Joshua could sense the storm brewing, and it was a storm that had been building for years, slowly but surely.

The article was just the catalyst. This moment was inevitable.

“You’ve made a  big fucking fool of yourself,” His dad’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room. “The entire world now knows about your indiscretions. About the basic woman you’ve been hiding.” He emphasized the word woman, as though it was a crime just to care about someone outside of the image he had meticulously crafted for his son. “Do you think this is acceptable, Joshua? To air our family’s dirty laundry for the world to see?”

Joshua didn’t flinch. He’d expected his father’s anger. It was the only thing his father ever seemed capable of. Still, something within him hardened. This wasn’t the first time his father had made him feel small, but it would be the last.

“I never asked for any of this, Dad,” Joshua finally said, his voice firm but measured. There was no more backing down. “I never wanted this kind of life. You never gave me a choice. You’ve made it clear that the only thing that matters is your reputation, not my happiness.”

His father’s eyes narrowed, and the tension in the room thickened. “You think you have the luxury to choose what makes you happy? You’re the heir to my entire fortune, Joshua. This family, this company—this political legacy—is bigger than you or any of your personal whims. I’ve spent my entire life building this empire. And you—” Arthur’s voice grew venomous, “you’re jeopardizing it for a fleeting romance with someone who doesn’t give a damn about the cost of this life.”

Joshua felt the anger rising in him, the years of resentment bubbling to the surface. He took a deep breath, but there was no holding back anymore.

“No. I’m not jeopardizing anything. You are,” he shot back, his voice rising now. “You’ve spent my fucking whole life telling me that the only thing that matters is business—status, money, power. And for what? So I can live a life that’s not even mine? So I can wake up every morning, knowing that I’m not allowed to make a choice for myself?” His voice cracked, frustration and emotion seeping through. “I’ve had enough.”

The elder of the two took a step toward him, his expression hardening into a mask of fury. “You think you can choose happiness over responsibility? You think you can turn your back on everything I’ve built, just for some bitch? You will regret this, Joshua. You can’t just walk away from this life. The consequences of your actions will destroy everything I’ve worked for.”

Joshua took a step forward to meet him, his chest tight with the weight of his words, but his eyes clear with resolve. “Bitch? Very mature. No, Dad. What will destroy everything is continuing down this path where nothing matters except power and control. I’ve tried to live up to your expectations, but all I’ve done is lose myself. And now I’m losing her too.”

Joshua’s dad’s eyes flickered with a flash of something—maybe disbelief, or perhaps a moment of realization. “You don’t understand. The world doesn’t give you the option to choose. People will use her to get to you. You think she’s different, but they’ll tear her apart, Joshua. She’s not the kind of woman you bring into our world.”

Joshua’s jaw tightened, and the weight of his father’s words hit harder than expected. He knew his father wasn’t wrong in some ways—the world they lived in was brutal. But what he hadn’t realized until now was just how suffocating it all was. His father was trying to control him, trying to dictate not just his career, but his personal life as well.

“Maybe she isn’t the problem, Dad. Maybe it’s this life, maybe it’s you,” Joshua snapped, voice shaking with raw emotion. “You’re so busy telling me how to live, telling me what’s best for me, but you’ve never once stopped to ask me what I want. I want something real, something that isn’t dictated by your empire. I want a future where I make the decisions for myself—where I’m not just living in your shadow, pretending to be someone I’m not.”

Arthur’s face turned pale, his expression shifting between disbelief and fury. “You’re a fool, Joshua,” he spat, the words coming out like venom. “You’ll ruin everything. You’ll be fucking nothing without this family. Without me.”

Joshua could feel the weight of his father's words, but they no longer carried the same power they once did. He wasn’t the boy who had to apologize for his every move anymore. He wasn’t the man who had to silence his own desires for the sake of someone else’s expectations. Not anymore.

“No, sir,” Joshua’s voice was steady now, stronger than it had ever been. “I’m already something, with or without you. And I’m done letting you define who that is.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, the air thick with the tension of a battle that had been simmering for years. Joshua felt his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at the man who had been his father. He’d spent so long trying to please him, trying to be the son he thought he was supposed to be, but now it was clear: he couldn’t do it anymore.

He wasn’t going to let his father’s grip on his life define him any longer.

Turning on his heel, Joshua made his way to the door. He had made his choice. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but it was the only way forward. He stopped just before the door, his hand on the knob.

“I’m done living for you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m in love with her so either you’ll have to accept that or stop fucking inserting yourself in my life.”

Without another word, he opened the door and left, not looking back.

Joshua’s heart raced as he slammed the door behind him, leaving his father’s cold, seething gaze in the past. The decision had been made, and there was no turning back now. His mind was a blur of anger, confusion, and relief, but through it all, one thought kept him moving forward.

Y/N.

He didn’t know what he expected when he stepped out of that house, but it felt like the first breath of fresh air he’d had in years. The weight of his father's influence was something Joshua had carried for far too long, and now, for the first time in his life, he could breathe without that looming pressure suffocating him.

He made his way to his car, his steps quick but purposeful. With the engine running he sent her a text asking her where she was and just to let her know he’s on his way back to her, the place he belongs. She didn’t say much back, just sending a pin to her location. 

The drive to Y/N’s apartment felt like the longest of his life, the distance between them physically small but emotionally vast. With each turn of the wheels, each block closer, his pulse quickened, his thoughts consumed by her. He needed to tell her everything—the truth, his choice, what had just happened. There were no more secrets to keep.

As he parked in front of her building, the air outside felt charged with tension. He stepped out of the car, his hands shaking, but there was no turning back now. He couldn't run anymore. He’d faced his father, now it was time to face her.

He pressed the buzzer at the gate and waited for the familiar sound of her voice to come through the intercom.

“Hello?”

Her voice was soft, raspy, as if she had been crying and it took everything in him not to break at the sound of it. She had no idea what had just transpired, no idea of the storm brewing inside him. But he knew this was where he needed to be.

“It’s me, Joshua,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

The gate buzzed open, and he made his way up to her apartment. Each step felt heavier than the last, but his resolve grew with every inch closer he got. As he reached her door, his hand hovered over the knob for a moment before he knocked softly.

The door opened to reveal Y/N standing there, looking every bit as beautiful as she had the night before, her eyes soft with concern slightly red from her tears, as she took in his disheveled appearance. Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his hands, noticing the way he gripped the doorframe, like he needed something solid to keep him from falling apart.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice gentle yet knowing. She could see something was off, something had changed. And she didn’t need him to explain it yet. She just stepped aside, allowing him entry without pressing for more.

Joshua stepped inside and closed the door behind him, his mind still racing. He couldn’t bring himself to speak immediately. The words were lodged in his throat, heavy and sharp, but there was no turning back. He had to tell her.

“I went to see him,” Joshua finally said, his voice a little unsteady. “My father.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed with concern, her fingers reaching out to gently touch his arm. She didn’t need to ask what had happened—she already knew it couldn’t have gone well. But she didn’t rush him; she simply waited, giving him the space to find the words.

“I stood up to him,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “For the first time in my fucking life, I stood up to him. I told him that I was done—done trying to be the son he wanted me to be. Done living under his control.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the rawness in his voice. She could see the weight of his words, feel the depth of the struggle he’d been carrying inside him for so long. She wanted to say something, to comfort him, but she knew better than to interrupt him when he was this vulnerable.

“I told him that I was in love with you,” Joshua continued, his eyes finding hers, his expression raw and open. “I told him that if he couldn’t accept that, then he needed to stay out of my life. I’m not living for him anymore. I’m living for me—and for us.”

The room seemed to freeze in that moment, the words hanging in the air between them. Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest, her breath catching as she tried to process what he was saying. She had expected the conversation to go in a hundred different directions, but never this one. She had no idea what to say, how to respond to the sheer intensity of what he was telling her.

Joshua stepped closer, his hand gently cupping her face, as if reassuring himself that she was real. “I want you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice a little strained. “I want this—us—no matter the cost. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, not anymore. I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of what we have.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and for a moment, she couldn’t find the words. The emotion that had built up between them, the weight of their shared secrets, the tension of waiting for something to finally give—it all came crashing down in that instant. She leaned into his touch, her hand reaching up to rest over his, holding him close.

“Joshua…” She couldn’t say anything else at first, too overwhelmed by everything he had just revealed. But then, the words came. “I’m so proud of you. This takes more strength than anything I could have ever imagined. I’m sorry you had to do it alone.” Her voice was thick with emotion, trembling with the weight of her feelings.

Joshua’s eyes softened as he wiped away the tear that had escaped down her cheek. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just—I was so afraid of losing everything that I kept hiding. I didn’t know how to be honest, even with myself.” He brushed a kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with a mixture of relief and love. “But now… I can’t keep pretending that this—we—don’t matter. You matter, Y/N. And I’m ready to face whatever comes next, with you by my side.”

Y/N stepped back for a moment, looking up at him with a soft smile. “So what happens now?”

Joshua took a deep breath, his chest still tight with the remnants of the confrontation he had left behind, but something inside him felt lighter. “Now, we take this one day at a time. We live the life we want, not the one anyone else expects us to live. No more secrets, no more lies. Just us. We can go on trips, go bowling, good restaurants, all of it.”

She smiled, her eyes glistening with unspoken hope, and nodded. “Finally.”

And in that moment, everything felt like it was falling into place—like they were finally, truly, on the same side. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. There would be challenges, both personal and external, but together, they were ready to face them. Together, they could finally have the life they’d always wanted, the life they deserved.

A few weeks had passed since that night—since Joshua had stood up to his father, told him the truth, and chosen Y/N. Their relationship, once clouded by secrecy and the weight of Joshua’s family legacy, had blossomed into something more genuine. They were finally able to breathe without the constant fear of being caught, of their love being hidden away. Joshua’s decision had been made, and for the first time, he felt free.

He had stayed away from his father, giving them both time to cool down, to let the emotions settle. Joshua had no illusions that his father would easily accept the change. Still, he couldn’t ignore the small part of him that held hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, his father would come around.

It was a Thursday afternoon when the knock came at the door. Y/N had just finished a late lunch, reading a book on the couch when she heard it. It was a knock that didn’t sound like any of their usual visitors—sharp, deliberate, as though someone had been waiting for the right moment to arrive.

When she opened the door, she wasn’t expecting to see him.

Mr. Hong stood in the doorway, his posture stiff, his face as impassive as it always was. His suit was immaculate, his presence commanding even in this simple setting. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. She had only ever heard about him—his control over Joshua, his icy demeanor, his relentless pursuit of perfection. And here he was, standing in her doorway as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

She hesitated for only a moment before speaking, her voice steady but cautious. “Mr. Hong.”

The man looked down at her, his gaze assessing but not unkind. “May I come in?” he asked, his tone far more measured than she had expected.

Y/N stood aside, unsure of how to react but not wanting to be rude. “Of course.”

She led him into the living room, where they both took seats on opposite ends of the space. The air was thick with the weight of his presence. Y/N felt uneasy, but she couldn’t deny the curiosity that burned inside her. What could he possibly want? Why was he here, after everything that had happened?

His father cleared his throat before speaking, his voice softer than she had anticipated. “I’ve come to apologize.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, unsure whether she had heard him right. “Apologize?” she echoed.

“Yes,” Mr. Hong said, his gaze unwavering as he looked her in the eyes. “For everything I put Joshua through. For all the years of pressure and the things I said that drove him away.”

She frowned, unsure how to process his words. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He looked down for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts, before meeting her eyes again. “I thought I was doing what was best for him, for the family. I was wrong. I tried to control everything, everyone, and in the end, I nearly lost my son.” He paused, as though trying to comprehend the depth of what he was admitting. “When he left, when he told me he was choosing you over me… I realized something.” 

Y/N said nothing, allowing him the space to speak.

He exhaled slowly. “I realized that I had been the one keeping him in the dark. I’d been so focused on legacy, on appearances, on control, that I didn’t see what I was doing to him. He was never happy. Not truly happy. And that’s on me.” His voice broke slightly, a crack in the carefully constructed armor that had defined him for so long. “I’m… I’m sorry for that. For everything.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She had never imagined a moment like this. She had heard about the man who had shaped Joshua’s life, the man who had made him feel small, inadequate, and forever beneath the weight of expectations. And now, here he was, apologizing—not just for his actions toward her, but for how he had hurt Joshua.

“Thank you,” she said finally, her voice soft, careful. “But you should really talk to him about all of this. He’s the one you hurt most.”

His father nodded, his eyes momentarily distant. “I know. I will. I need to.” He looked back at her, his expression more vulnerable than she had ever expected to see. “But I wanted to start with you. You’ve been the one to make him see that there’s more to life than what I’ve shown him. I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but I can see that you’ve given him something I never could: the courage to be himself.”

Y/N felt a pang in her chest at the rawness of his words. She had no doubt that Joshua’s father was trying—genuinely trying. But the scars of his actions weren’t easily erased. Still, she could see the man in front of her wasn’t just the villain in Joshua’s story anymore. He was someone who had been lost too, someone who was now confronting the reality of his mistakes.

“I don’t know what Joshua will say when he hears this,” she said, her voice tentative. “But I’m sure he’ll appreciate hearing that you understand.”

His expression softened, and for the first time in their interaction, he gave her a small, almost imperceptible smile. “I hope so.”

Later that evening, after Mr. Hong had left, Y/N sat quietly, waiting for Joshua. She hadn’t told him about the visit yet, unsure of how he would react. Part of her knew that the conversation with his father—though a long time coming—might be more complicated than they both realized. 

When Joshua finally arrived, looking tired but determined, Y/N didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arms around him as soon as he stepped through the door, needing the comfort of his presence. 

“Hey,” she said softly, pulling back to look up at him. “I need to tell you something.”

Joshua raised an eyebrow, his expression wary, but he didn’t say anything as she guided him to the couch. 

“Your dad came by today,” she said, watching his reaction closely. 

Joshua froze, his face hardening. “What did he want?”

“He came to apologize,” Y/N said carefully, gauging his reaction. 

Joshua’s face was a mixture of disbelief and something else—reluctance, maybe? It was clear that he hadn’t expected this.

“Are you serious?” His voice was low, the emotion in it impossible to miss. “I don’t know if I can believe that.”

Y/N nodded. “I understand. But I think you should hear him out. He seemed genuine.”

Joshua leaned back, running a hand through his hair, his thoughts clearly conflicted. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. After everything he put me through…”

“I know,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers. “But you’re not the same person you were before. You don’t have to accept anything right away, but maybe... just maybe, you can give him a chance to make things right.”

Joshua was silent for a moment, his eyes staring into the distance as he processed everything. Finally, he turned back to her, his gaze softer. “Maybe.”

Y/N gave him a reassuring smile. “When you're ready. And I’ll be here.”

Joshua squeezed her hand gently. “Thank you. For everything.”

And in that moment, even with the uncertainty hanging in the air, he knew he wasn’t facing it alone. Whatever came next, he and Y/N would figure it out—together.

A few weeks had passed since His fathers unexpected visit to Y/N’s apartment. Joshua had spent that time in quiet contemplation, torn between the man his father had forced him to be and the man he was trying to become. The choice was clear now. He was ready to face his father, not as the son who had been molded by expectations, but as the man he had become—someone who had chosen his own path, his own love, and his own life.

He had talked it through with Y/N, who had been nothing but supportive, patient, and understanding. She knew the road to reconciliation with his father wouldn’t be easy. She had seen the scars of his childhood, the way his father’s love had always felt conditional, based on his achievements and his conformity to a perfect image. But she also knew Joshua needed to do this for himself, not for his father, and not for anyone else. 

And so, the day came when Joshua, heart pounding in his chest, decided it was time. 

Joshua stood in front of Y/N’s apartment, his knuckles lightly tapping the door before he opened it. She was sitting on the couch, the familiar soft light of the afternoon streaming through the windows. He could see the faint worry in her eyes when she looked up at him.

“I think it’s time,” he said simply, his voice steady but with an underlying current of nerves.

Y/N smiled, standing up and walking toward him. She could see it in his eyes, the determination but also the vulnerability. She nodded, her heart swelling with pride. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” she said, her voice soothing yet firm. “But if you are, I’ll be right there with you.”

Joshua took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “I’m ready. I need to do this. Not just for me, but for us.”

The drive to the Hong estate felt longer than it should have, each mile adding to Joshua’s uncertainty. Y/N sat next to him, her presence grounding him. Every now and then, she would reach over and give his hand a reassuring squeeze, reminding him that this wasn’t something he had to face alone.

When they finally pulled up to the grand gates of the home, Joshua felt the weight of the past pressing down on him. He had never been this nervous in his life—not even on the first date with Y/N. But this wasn’t just about meeting someone new; this was about stepping into a world that had always made him feel small, inadequate, like he could never measure up.

Y/N could feel the tension radiating off him, and she didn’t say anything, just held his hand tighter as they made their way up the driveway. They both knew this wasn’t just a visit; it was a defining moment. The confrontation with his father had to happen, but this moment, right now, was the one that would decide if things could truly change between them.

They walked through the front door of the house, which felt strangely empty despite the grandness of the foyer. Everything in this house was cold, too pristine, too perfectly arranged. It was a place where emotions had always been kept at a distance, and Joshua had spent years trying to meet his father’s impossible standards.

Joshua’s father was sitting in the living room, an armchair that he always seemed to claim as his own. His expression was unreadable as he stood to greet them, but there was a visible tension in his posture. This wasn’t just the son he had known; this was a different Joshua—the Joshua who had learned to stand up for himself, the Joshua who had chosen a different life. 

Y/N stood by Joshua’s side, her presence a quiet strength, something that made the room feel a little less suffocating.

“Joshua,” he said, his voice tight but respectful. “You’ve come.”

Joshua nodded, his heart racing. “Yes. I came to talk.”

His eyes flickered to Y/N before returning to his son. “Hello, y/n.” His voice was even, but there was an unfamiliar softness to it. “I didn’t expect her to want to join us.”

Y/N met his gaze, her expression calm but firm. She wasn’t intimidated by him, but she could sense that this moment was as much about her as it was about Joshua. She understood that this was the first step toward something real—for them, as a family.

Joshua cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “I wanted to be clear with you, Father. I’m not the person you always wanted me to be. I’ve tried, but I’ve realized I can’t be that person anymore. I’m in love with Y/N, and she’s part of my life now. I need you to understand that.”

The elders jaw tightened at the mention of Y/N’s name, but he said nothing for a long moment. His gaze softened slightly, and he let out a slow breath. “I never wanted to hurt you, Joshua. I thought I was doing what was best for you. I wanted you to have the life I never had, the life I thought you deserved. But I can see now that I’ve been blind.”

Joshua felt a flicker of something—a small spark of hope, perhaps. But he knew better than to get ahead of himself. His father’s apology wasn’t going to fix everything in one moment.

His father took a step closer, his eyes searching Joshua’s. “I’ve made mistakes. I’ve tried to control you, to force you into something that wasn’t you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Y/N watched the exchange carefully, her hand still firmly in Joshua’s. She knew this was a big step for him, and it wasn’t about forgiving or forgetting. It was about opening the door to something new, to a different kind of relationship with his father, one built on respect instead of fear.

“Thank you,” Joshua said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “That means more than you know.”

There was a long pause before his dad spoke again. “I don’t expect things to change overnight. But I want to try, Joshua. I want to try to understand who you are now. Who you’ve become. And if you want her in your life, if she’s a part of your future, then… I’ll try to accept that too.”

Joshua didn’t know if his father’s words were enough to undo the years of strain between them, but they were a start. A step toward healing.

Y/N squeezed his hand, her presence a constant reassurance. “Thank you,” she said softly, offering a warm, genuine smile. 

There was a long silence as the three of them stood there, the weight of the moment sinking in. It wasn’t perfect. There were still so many things unsaid, so much to be worked through. But for the first time in his life, Joshua felt a flicker of something he hadn’t thought was possible—hope. Maybe things between him and his father could be different, maybe they could find a way forward. 

As they left the Hong estate later that evening, hand in hand, Joshua took a deep breath, feeling lighter than he had in years.

“I didn’t expect him to say that,” he admitted, his voice a mixture of disbelief and cautious optimism. 

Y/N smiled softly, leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked. “I don’t think he expected it either. But it’s a start.”

Joshua looked down at her, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. “Thank you for coming with me. For everything.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes filled with warmth. “Always, babe. I’m right here, no matter what.”

The weeks that followed the meeting with his father were filled with uncertainty, but also a quiet sense of relief. Joshua and Y/N had continued to grow closer, their bond stronger than ever. There were still conversations to be had, still moments of tension between him and his father, but Joshua could finally breathe, unburdened by the weight of his past.

His dad had made an effort—slowly, carefully—to rebuild his relationship with Joshua. They started talking more, and although their relationship wasn’t perfect, it was real. Joshua had learned that it wasn’t about erasing the past, but about creating a new path forward—one where he could be true to himself, without needing to seek approval from the person who had once held all the power over him.

One Saturday evening, just shy of a few months after that pivotal day, Joshua and Y/N found themselves in a small, cozy spot by the river. The sun was beginning to set, casting golden hues over the water as they sat in a quiet corner, far from the noise of the world.

“I still can’t believe we’re here,” Joshua said, his voice light with amusement. He had a warm smile on his face, one that was genuine, carefree—the smile of a man who had finally found his place.

Y/N laughed softly, taking a sip of her tea. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... just us. No hiding. No pretending. It feels... good.”

She smiled, the warmth in her chest matching the feeling in her heart. “It does, doesn’t it?”

They had spent so much time in secret—dodging his family’s scrutiny, keeping their love hidden from the world—but now, things were different. They didn’t have to sneak around. They could hold hands in public, share quiet moments, and talk openly about their future. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t always easy, but it was theirs.

Joshua reached across the table, his hand finding hers. He looked at her, his gaze soft and full of affection. “You’ve made me believe in more than just surviving, Y/N. I thought for so long that I had to play by someone else’s rules... that I had to prove something to my father, to everyone. But with you, I’ve learned that I can just be. And that’s enough.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart swelling with love. “I never wanted you to be anyone but yourself, Joshua. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all to me.”

Joshua’s eyes shone with emotion, and for the first time in a long time, he let himself fully embrace the love they had—love that wasn’t about expectations or conditions, but about simply being there for one another. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For never giving up on me. For standing by me when I wasn’t sure who I was.”

Y/N’s eyes glistened, and she shook her head. “I didn’t give up on you. I believed in you, Shua. Always.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, the gentle hum of the café surrounding them. Outside, the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and purple. The world felt like it was slowing down, just for them.

Suddenly, Joshua pulled something from his pocket—something small, wrapped carefully in velvet. Y/N looked at him, curious, as he slid it across the table toward her.

“What the hell is this?” she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and delight.

Joshua smiled softly, the same warmth in his eyes that she had come to love. “Just a little something for you.”

She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a delicate diamond engagement ring. The center stone sparkled brightly, a soft halo surrounding it, elegant and timeless—a reflection of everything they had been through, and everything they would face together in the future.

“What the.. Is this?” She said, her voice soft, filled with awe.

“I thought it was time,” Joshua said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not asking you to wait forever anymore, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you—no more hiding, no more uncertainty. I want you by my side, always.”

Y/N felt a rush of warmth flood her chest, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the ring. Her eyes glistened with tears. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said, his voice steady but full of love. “You’ve been my strength, my guide, my heart. I want this. I want you.”

She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Joshua gently took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. He looked at her with such intensity, his eyes soft with love and promise. “I love you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever known how to say.”

She smiled through the tears, her heart overflowing. “I love you too. I always have.”

And with that, they sat in the warmth of each other’s company, knowing that no matter what the future held, they would face it together—unapologetically, without fear, and with hearts that had finally found their home in each other.

Months later, the Hong estate had changed. It wasn’t an overnight transformation, but there was progress. Joshua had finally learned how to set boundaries with his father, and though there were still disagreements, there was a newfound respect between them. Joshua had come to terms with the fact that his father’s approval would never be unconditional, but he had also come to understand that he didn’t need it to be happy.

He was no longer defined by his father’s expectations or by the pressure of a legacy he had never chosen. He was his own man, with his own dreams—and he had Y/N by his side. They were no longer a secret. They were a couple, standing proudly in the light of the life they had chosen for themselves.

And when the time came for their wedding day, the simple, intimate ceremony was filled with love—not just from the two of them, but from their families and friends who had supported them along the way. It wasn’t about grand gestures or the approval of others; it was about their love, which had been forged in secret but had blossomed into something pure and real.

As they stood together at the altar, Joshua holding her hand, Y/N smiled up at him, knowing that this was only the beginning of their life together.

They had faced the darkness. They had fought for each other. And now, they were stepping into a future full of love, trust, and hope.

[lololololchips]

hi ik requests are closed but i'm sending an idea before i forget it because you're my fave svt smau author. so if you haven't done this before — can i request ot13 finding out that they're NOT your bias. like they're upset because ofc why isn't it THEM but you explain that them being your bf makes them your default bias so you have to have another one as well.

pls do this in your own time!

this was such a cute and fun idea hehe thank youuuu for sending ur amazing request, here it is enjoy!!

finding out they aren’t your bias || SEVENTEEN

genre: fake texts, one shot au, fluff, idol!bf

warnings: cursing, fem pronouns, jealousy, suggestive (?), furry comments (LMAO IM SORRY), all the guys being haters

[arcanesea]

carry your heart

PAIRING: joshua hong x reader GENRE: fluff WC: 518 WARNINGS: none~

Joshua always helps you carry your purse and every other thing, including your feelings.

"I think I left... oh, right," you grin when Joshua brings forward your purse. You link your arm with his free one, leaning closer to press a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Josh."

Joshua smiled back at you, securing your purse in his other hand. He loves carrying your purse, one because you often leave them lying around without supervision, and two because he can store his phone and some other belongings in them. It's a win-win solution.

You stopped before going into the venue, smoothing the front of your dress.

"Still nervous?" Joshua stepped in front of you, trying to find your eyes.

You look up at him, seeing his sincere gaze fixed on you, the way it always does all this time. He had convinced you to come and meet his friends since all of them are in town. A small gathering, but somehow, you feel intimidated. These were the people that Joshua knew from such a young age, the people who stayed through all the ups and downs in his life. You envy them, but you're more scared that they will dismiss you easily.

"Darling?" He called you, tilting his head slightly.

"I'm fine," you tell him. Offering a genuine smile. Your fear can sit this one out.

"I promise they don't bite," he joked lightly. He then took your hand back in his arms and walked together inside the venue. You were immediately greeted by the warm atmosphere and playful energy that filled the room. Joshua turned to you, watching as a smile blooms on your face.

Soon enough, you were engaging in conversations with his friends, exchanging jokes and stories about him.

"I like her," someone spoke beside him. He had excused himself to grab a drink five minutes ago. In his hands, two glasses of soda but he stopped himself from going directly to you. Joshua smiled at the comment, his heart swelled at the amount of adoration his friends showed you.

"I like her too," Joshua said mindlessly. "No, I love her actually," he said when you turned your head to where he was standing, offering a smile and a little wave. His friend just grinned and smiled at his antics.

"Did you have fun?" Joshua asks when you both walk back to his car. Your purse is still secured on his arm. Goodbyes were exchanged, and the night was finally setting in with the moon shining brightly.

"You know, I was afraid that they wouldn't like me," you pondered. "But they're the nicest person I've ever met, Josh," you added.

"How could someone don't like you, darling?" Joshua chuckled lightly. He knows for one thing none of his friends would dislike you. Not when you're the only person who could paint the sweetest smile on his face for days on end.

You only laugh in response, feeling way lighter than before. This is how you trust Joshua; with all of your feelings packed in a purse. Trust him to always know how to handle them.

a/n. daily streak of wanting THE joshua hong to be my boyfriend count: 1