Me When I'm The Prettiest Man Alive

missing him: texts with hyunjin.•*☆

warnings: none

No reposting or translating of my works. All rights reserved to me, myself and I.

note: made this when i was half asleep so pls ignore the errors i’m begging

✿: @hhwangsmoon @straywrds @l3visbby @armysantiny @hwajin @casualtaelyn @staybangchan @hopeladybug @midsoulz @aestheticsluut @venustired @abiaswreck @deathlypink @djeniryuu @rachabreathing @alyszaen @starlostseungmin @bokk-minnie @spicymooseeyes @downbadreading @moasworld @ren0325 @ketchupaeternum @like-a-diamondinthesky @itsgivingitalian @sea-moon-star @idkluvutellme @thisisnotjacinta @hyunjinswifeee @warren-thedarkangel @babrieeee @chartrucewhore @veedoesntknaur @mixtape-racha

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how seventeen react to being accidentally called the wrong name

requested by anon: "hello! i wanted to send this in since ur requests are open, so if it's okay what do u think svt's reactions would be if u call them by the wrong name? (it could be on an accident or part of some prank, up to you) hehe."

masterlist

seungcheol, hoshi, junhui, seungkwan

offended. heartbroken. cannot believe that you'd even Think of him as someone else. looks behind him when you call him another name, eyes going wide when he realizes that you'd accidentally called him the wrong name. sulks for hours, doesn't let you ask the question you'd originally wanted to ask when you'd called for him. needs to be consoled with kisses and pouty apologies and a promise that you'll wear a shirt with his name printed on it in neon pink. you're still only half sure that he was joking about getting it custom-made for you. 

jeonghan, joshua, wonwoo, minghao, chan

doesn't bat an eye. at least, that's what he leads you to think. doesn't react outwardly when you call him by another member's name and just smiles when you apologise. but then when it's his turn to speak he's calling you every name other than your own. calls you by your mom's name, your dad's name, the name of the pet fish you had when you were five that had died from overfeeding. even calls you his own name. does it with a completely straight face, and does it for literally an entire week. he's not letting go of your mishap that easily. 

woozi, mingyu, dokyeom, vernon

has a mini existential crisis. you call out to him "chan!! come look at this!!" so naturally and without batting an eye that he kind of just responds automatically, before reeling backwards and being like 'wait what????' blinks so adorably confusedly that once you realise what you've done, you're laughing into him and pinching his cheeks because he just looks so cute. literally thought that he was chan for all of three seconds and was like "am i not who i think i am?", and is just the cutest. 

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reaction tags: (under the cut)

@jeonginssa ,, @magicaltonaru ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @minhui896 ,, @turningcarat ,, @nakedgrapes ,, @bunnyiix ,, @slytherinshua ,, @haowrld ,, @belladaises ,, @iheartyujin ,, @summery-bat ,, @newgirlygirl ,, @moonlitskiiies ,, @interlude-z ,, @ejspencer14 ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @wonranghaeee ,, @saythename-chess ,, @yonabutnotyuna ,, @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou ,, @crackedpumpkin ,, @wqnwoos ,, @butiluvu ,, @sunshinekyeom-sang ,, @ocyeanicc ,, @zozojella ,, @thesmellofcoffeeandrain ,, @kthstrawberryshortcake-main ,, @kawennote09 ,, @a-wandering-stay ,, @icyminghao ,, @nananacomeonnnn ,, @valenhui

@sakuraslibrary

Gods & Monsters (p. sh, l. hs)

pairing. step-brother sunghoon x female reader x step-brother heeseung

genre. step-siblings AU, pwp, dubcon, fluff smut humor angst etc

warnings. morally grey characterizations(mostly Sunghoon), profanity, toxicity, mentions of body/weight, sibling rivalry, cheating, mentions of death, full smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 23,000+

now playing. Gods & Monsters//Lana Del Rey

a/n. dear readers, I know you have waited and waited and waited, and I want to say thank you for that, I appreciate the patience🫶 please remember to be nice, I hope it was worth the wait🩷 ps- apologizing now for reblogging this to tag everyone, and double apology to anyone I did not get, forgive me🩷🩷🩷

smut warnings. Sunghoon’s mean… Heeseung isn’t, coercion, blackmailing, dirty talk, use of ‘princess/baby/good girl’, degradation, praise, throat/breast-fucking, oral, spitting, spanking, choking, desperation, overstimulation, unprotected sex.

“I still can’t believe they’re related.” 

The brothers in question exit from the same car, the older of the two coming out of the backseat drowning in a black hoodie that hangs past his fingers, masking his eyelids where the hood droops over his head. Some old vintage band hoodie perhaps, the logo too tattered and faded to read. He moves like a black cloud amidst the drizzle of the beginning of a storm. Slow, dangerous, impending, waking shivers up bystander’s spines with his presence.

The younger strides statuesquely in all his glory, head held high flaunting his perfectly sculpted 90 degree jawline that could cut through glass windows. His steps move in a sleek stride, akin to floating in the way he moves as if no crack, rock, or rigged ground could break his model-like Paris fashion week runway walk. His steely gaze never deters, not once distracted by the many calls of fawning and giggles following his lead.

“They’re so opposite.” Your friends continue to chatter, whispering in front of you where you stand by the school’s parking lot sharing your morning greetings; most of the time before class is consumed by gossip and recounts of the weekend, the usual banter you mindlessly sift through. “I guess they look somewhat alike, both tall.. slender, similar in build.”

They shrug and turn to face you, eyebrows lifting curiously and deviously grinning. “You probably know better than anyone now that your mom’s dating their dad.”

Your friends chortle back and forth for a minute about how even Mr. Park is still attractive at his age, and it’s a shame that both brothers don’t take after their father. “Well? Come on,” one of them pokes at your arm. “Don’t be selfish, spill!”

They want to know more about the Park brothers, details you can’t divulge into, because really you don’t know much yourself. No more than every other student that may share a class here and there with one.

“Bet she has a crush on one of them.” You hear between a giggle, a round of laughs bursting and vocals rising in pitch.

“Heeseung’s so her type, bet she’s already hooking up with him.”

“Nah, Sunghoon has something about him behind that cleancut preppy image, you can tell he’s hiding some secrets.”

“I’ve only met them once,” you interrupt before they can continue to dissect and assume. “They seem..” shrugging you fail to come up with much else, heading off to class unable to tear your thoughts away from the two brothers.

Opposite from each other would be an understatement. They’re completely unlike, a scale weighed down on one end as the other lifts high, lit up by light and praise.

The first and only time you met the boys outside of school had been over dinner, your mother had been a nervous wreck; spinning and running around in a frenzy, forcing you to wear some high-collared prim and proper dress that hit below your knees. ‘Can’t have Mr. Park thinking I’ve raised some floozy now can I sweetie?’

Meanwhile, a frown etched your face as you gazed across the table where two men sat uninterested, phone in hand, still sporting their same attire from school earlier. Nonetheless their father showed up dapper as ever, crisp suit and tie, hair coiffed back neatly away from his face displaying every feature even in the candle-lit all too fancy restaurant he’d dragged you all to. 

‘I’ll order for us.’ Mr. Park carried himself with a confident arrogance, one passed onto only one of his sons from what you could tell.

‘Now boys, put the phones away.’ He said shortly, lips pursed together glaring daggers at the two. ‘And sit up straight would you? What have I told you about hunching over Heeseung? Remove that damn hood while you’re at it, this is a fine dining establishment not In-N-Out.’

Mr. Park snapped quickly, his demeanor immediately altering when taking in your mother, speaking to her in a sugary sweet tone. ‘You look absolutely breathtaking tonight my love.’

She flushed, making your nose twitch in disgust and divert your attention away to the menu, anything to not stare ahead at Sunghoon’s flawless side-profile, not that you hadn’t taken the time to while he scrolled engrossed through his phone, fingers tapping and tapping while a smirk grew on his lips.

The evening had been uneventful for the most part, your parents gushing about their trip to Greece last month; the one that your mother came back from squealing and proclaiming ‘I think he’s the one.’

Mr. Park had quite a bit to say about Sunghoon though, clasping his son on the shoulder with a pride-filled smile. ‘One day he’ll be my senior VP, my Hoon’s got a bright future ahead of him. Real smart boy this one, got offered a free ride through university without even needing my help or a generous donation.’

Sunghoon laughed deeply, waving off his father’s praise. ‘It’s all thanks to you dad, seriously what good would I be without your aid to finance the best education.’ 

A pearly white sharp smile had your mother gushing, letting out a cringe-worthy sigh with her palms pressed together. ‘Oh, all my hard work to provide the same and here mine is failing three of her easiest classes.’

‘Mom!’

‘Ah, yes, it seems you can deliver the ingredients on a silver platter, even hand feed them and your children could still disappoint you.’ Mr. Park’s eyes thinned, head tilting in the direction of his elder son. Heeseung avoided him, continuing to lose himself in some mobile game with his phone hidden beneath the table as he had all night. ‘But you know, Hoon’s a great tutor, so good that I’ve had teachers beg me to let him work over summer. Education comes first of course, don’t want him to stress and take on too much while interning at my company over break.’

Mr. Park motions toward you, cocking an eyebrow. ‘Maybe he could help you this school year, I’ll even allow him to do it for free.’

Sunghoon hid a grimace behind his smile, nodding and blinking rapidly at his father’s suggestion. ‘Would love to.’

He’d made you swap contact information, but Sunghoon never bothered to reach out and set-up any sessions. Not as if he had the opportunity to approach you in class, not that he even knew you shared any classes.

Deep in thought you strolled to the back of the class, slumping into your seat to tune out and lose yourself, much like everyone else who opted to hide out from questions and eye-contact with the professors.

Heeseung always loomed back here as well, the corner preferred, an oversized hood tugged over his head to shadow the upper half of his face leaving his lips mostly visible. Most likely as unaware of your presence as you once were of his, at least until that dinner.

You could say something to him, reach out and tap his shoulder, start to wave to greet him when you enter class.. something about that night crossed your mind time and time again, pivoting the sour thoughts away; your mom and Mr. Park could always break-up anyway. 

Mom💞: ‘Have important news tonight sweetie, come home right after school!’

“I wanted to tell you before the official announcement gets sent out.” Your mother smiles wide before you as if a clothes hanger has gotten lodged between her cheeks.

“What announcement?”

“As you know, things have escalated quickly between myself and Mr. Park.” She continues, grabbing a hold of your hands to control the anxious tremor rolling through her limbs. “I know you loved your father more than anyone, as did I, but you know how happy Mr. Park has made me.”

The rest of her words blend with white static noise filling your ears. It was inevitable that this day would come eventually, from the first time you peaked through your window blinds and caught sight of her flirting with your next door neighbor as they pretended to water the bushes and shared sneaking smiles, the itch up your spine resembling a warning.

“We’re moving in together.” She finishes, chewing at her lower lip nervously. “All of us.”

All of us.

Mom. Mr. Park. You.

and his two sons.

“Sunghoon’s really smart.” Your mother forces a smile after reading an e-mail from your professor over your shoulder. “I’m sure Jinyeong mentioned something about one of his sons tutoring to make extra money, couldn’t have possibly been about Heeseung.”

Typing out a response to your professor about her jam-packed schedule and that she will outsource educational assistance for you, she huffs, leaning back after hitting send. “That Sunghoon is a God-send if you ask me.”

I didn’t ask. 

“I’ll have to beg him to help you out, maybe his father can encourage him with extra incentive.” Frowning at you, she tugs on the flimsy string of your tank top. “What have I told you about covering up more around the house? We live with men again, you can’t walk around displaying all of your body so carelessly anymore.”

Your mother could really care less if you feel offended by her commentary on your appearance, evident by her gaze scanning downward with an irritable tweak tugging her lip. “You know, I don’t pay for all these cute little gym sets for you to use as loungewear. When’s the last time you worked out? Slacking off in school and doing a poor job of maintaining your figure? What type of honorable hard-working man do you think you’ll be able to attract with no brains or looks to your advantage?”

“Yes mother.”

“Yes what?”

“Uh.” Sitting up ramrod straight, you frazzle, having tuned her out some minutes ago. “I’ll study harder and workout more.”

“And?” She nods to a baggy full of grapes by your side, cocking a snarky eyebrow at you.

“Oh..” you’re tempted to mutter something about how you’ve only had a handful, not even having time yet today to eat a proper meal. She wouldn’t care anyway. “Eat less.”

She grins, reaching over to tuck loose tendrils behind your ear. “You should pop into Jinyeong’s home gym downstairs, there’s even a sauna, it’s lovely.”

Unfortunately for you, she’s right, your step-father’s home gym is lovely.

“Rich people really live differently.” You mumble, popping your headphones on to warm-up with a walk on the treadmill. You can’t complain about your new living situation, Jinyeong, as he insists you call him now(because you both know dad would be too weird) has been extremely welcoming and accommodating to not only your mother but you as well. His sons on the other hand, too soon to say much about.

Heeseung has hardly spoken more than a few words, just as closed off and quiet as he comes across at school, and Sunghoon, well Sunghoon is perfect.

10 minutes of humming along to your sweat playlist and bouncing random thoughts around, you walk the gym contemplating if today should be an upper or lower body day, one accidental glance at your backside in the mirror solidifies your decision to focus on your lower half today.

“Deadlifts it is.” You groan to yourself, wiping your palms free of moisture before adjusting the weight. “No way Jinyeong lifts 150…”

“He doesn’t.” A loud deep tone passes beyond the low volume of your music, making you gasp and turn around in your bent position too fast, easily losing your balance and landing on your ass.

Sunghoon glares at you from the entrance, trudging in with a loose muscle tank and sweats on. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Uhm, working out?”

He scowls, watching you struggle to get back up as he steps around you to steal your spot before the barbell. “And why pretel do you think you can be here during my time?”

“Your time?” You guffaw, tempted to roll your eyes. “Well damn, I didn’t know we had a schedule to adhere to?”

“You think you’re funny.” Continuing to glower, he shoos you away with one hand, directing his chin toward the door. “Ha ha, now leave.”

“I just got here?!”

“I could care less.” Sunghoon’s jaw tightens, fully flexed in all its sharp glory. “Alexa, play Hoon’s Workout.”

To your disgust, Jay Park blasts through the speakers hung from corner to corner, the familiar beat of MOMMAE plays around you.

Of course he listens to Jay Park.. douche.

“I said get lost.” He rasps, stretching his digits out to wrap around the barbell.

Allowing your eyes to roll up, you shrug and glance around opting to set up on a yoga mat to stretch while he occupies the squat rack area. Sunghoon snarls behind you, annoyed that you won’t take the message he’s stated loud and clear to leave. 

What are you even doing here? Do you even workout? He grunts, hoisting the barbell up with a burn building up in his thighs and calves, peering out of the corner of his eye where you’ve begun to stretch.

Nice ass. 

Wait. 

What.

Shaking his head, he turns away to take a swig from his water, rubbing the heel of his palm against his eyelids. Licking his lips, he throws his head back for more, turning casually to watch your ass push out as you stretch your waist and back on all fours.

What the fuck. 

Sunghoon coughs, clearing his throat before returning to his lifting stance, adrenaline pumping faster with each sneaking look he steals as you twist and groan with a crack coming from your back. The stretch has you faced away, a perfect opportune moment to get a real good look, taking in a deep gulp as he squints to admire how obscene your workout shorts are; scrunched deep enough between your ass to show off everything, absolutely everything.

He groans, half from the ache in his lower back, half from the ache forming between his thighs. Sunghoon shakes it off, whatever it is, toying with the ring suddenly tightening up on his finger. “Hey, you.”

He says, intending to come off rude. “I’m done over here now.”

Without much more, he turns to the free weights, going for the 50 lbs to warm up his triceps. An excited jump swoops through his stomach as you get up and make your way back to the squat rack, adjusting the weight to less than half of what he normally does his reps with. His tongue clicks upon noticing that from the mirror where he watches you get into position, moving away from the barbell on the floor to lower your shoulders beneath the rack. 

“Terrible form.” He mutters, unknowingly too loud with your music paused for this very reason.

“Excuse me?” You snap, turning at your neck to glare at him. “You still have more to say?”

Sunghoon drops the weights obnoxiously, loudly landing on the foam mats. “Your form looks like shit.” He smirks, turning around and snapping his fingers. “Who taught you to curve your spine like that? That’s a sure way to hurt yourself, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” You say with a disgusted sneer. “My forms fine.”

“It’s trash.”

“You’re trash.”

“Oooh, you get a lot of reaction with those comebacks?” His tongue clicks repeatedly, stepping up behind your back to grab your hips. “This.” He smacks the side of your thigh, igniting a jolt up your back. “Squeeze your ass and stomach in, at the same time princess.”

Against your better judgment and that little irritating voice squealing in the back of your mind at the close proximity you’ve landed yourself in to the Park Sunghoon, you do as he says, albeit struggling to hold in your core and glute muscles. “Good good.” He says in a low whisper much too close behind you, palms dragging up to your waist to squeeze. “Now bend your knees, the back of your ankles better be hitting your ass if you’re doing it right.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.” He grins, pressing closer until his groin meets your bottom. “Eventually you should be able to hit that, if you’re doing it right.”

Sunghoon would know after all, slowly licking his lips behind you, he focuses on the low groan vibrating out from your chest as you push back up to stand and huff.

“See how that felt different than that weak shit you were doing?”

“Whatever.” Rolling your eyes, you squat for the next 10 minutes, thighs on fire from engaging your muscles in a new, different way. Dumb jerk was right, of course he was.

“Not too shabby.” Sunghoon says, handing you a water bottle from the mini-fridge, because yes, even their gym has a fridge. “But you could be better.”

His pointed teeth protrude at the next roll of your eyes, wrapping long fingers around your upper arm before you’re able to get away. “This wasn’t an invitation by the way, I better not see you in here again during my gym time.”

He winks, smacking your backside as he shoves your arm away. “And I mean that!”

Grunting, you pat off the sweat from your back, ready to hit him with a round of offensive drags about his form.

Sunghoon’s back muscles greet you as you turn back around, jaw falling to the floor with each twitchy flex they give as his triceps burst and he groans with each lift.

Right.

Things could be worse.

Things could definitely be worse.

Things are definitely worse.

After another email from your professor, your mother begged over dinner for your step-brother to help you pass the classes you’re lacking in. Much to his reluctance and added bribery from his father, he agreed with a forced wide smile, glaring ominously at you from the corner of his eye

“This is such a waste of time.” Sunghoon hasn’t tried to make any qualms about his disdain for your current predicament. Moaning and groaning more than actually bothering to assist you or answer your questions in any type of way, at least when he’s not fixing his perfectly blown out hair if even a strand moves out of place.

“I took this class last year.” He continues to whine. “Wasn’t even hard, well..” his eyes drag over to one side, head shaking at your less than flattering hunched over position. “Wasn’t hard for me, but I suppose for someone like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You’re quick to snap back, leaning away from your study guide to stretch your arms above your head. Sunghoon doesn’t bother to hide taking in the arch your spine lifts into, chest pushed upward the more you lean back to loosen your shoulders. He even hums appraisingly, pursing out his lips pleased.

“When we were working out together the other day, I noticed something about you.” 

“Before or after you chewed me out for invading your space?” You snicker, rolling your eyes and settling back to sit comfortably. “I told you, I’ll join a gym again and leave you to be at peace.”

“It’s not that.” Sunghoon waves you off, nodding to the stack of study guides. “You need to pass these classes, right?” 

“That’s why I’m here, genius. Taking up your sweet precious time.”

He doesn’t miss the snarky attitude you add, not sparing him attention as you return to rereading the same question for the fifth time.

“I was my high school’s valedictorian, top of the Dean’s list for the past 2 years, scouted by every Ivy League in the world really.” He shrugs, motioning to the display of plaques and honors hung up on his bedroom wall. “You know that though, you can’t be that stupid. Even extraterrestrials wish I’d visit to share my wealth of knowledge.”

“Good God man, get to the point.” You glower, ready to snap the mechanical pencil in your grip in half.

“This tutoring thing is pointless.” He pauses, deciding to leave out the part about you actually being stupid. “Girls like you have no purpose in excelling academically, especially not now with my father’s last name attached to yours.”

“What the fuck does that even mean? Girls like me?” 

Sunghoon smirks, nodding slowly as his gaze drags from your crossed legs up to your torso and the less than fond grimace you stare him down with.

“Girls like you..” he reaches for your knee, walking his index and middle finger up your thigh. “This little emo baggy clothes aesthetic, you’ll grow out of it someday. It’s what your mom wants, right? Judging by the way she scolds every move you make, fixes your hair, makes you wear those drabe goody church outfits around my father to impress him.”

Sunghoon leans in closer, falling to a whisper as his digits reach the top of your thigh. “Who knew what you were hiding under all this,” he tugs on your t-shirt, biting down on his full pink bottom lip. “There’s a standard to uphold now that our parents have wed.”

He licks his top lip purposely, leaving behind a coat of spit that accentuates how perfectly shaped his pout is without even trying. Distracted by his hand playing with your top, you realize too late how close he’s moved his chair to yours. “Money changes people.”

“What? You think I can be easily swayed by a bunch of stuck-up rich assholes like you who think you’re superior just because daddy keeps your bank account full?” Your hand circles his wrist, not without feeling your heart rate spike upon contact. Sunghoon’s as cold to the touch as he looks, grinning when your grip tightens around him.

“I have sure-fire way to find out.” He splits into a smile, gingerly tugging your fingers off his wrist before twisting and rubbing the skin dramatically with a hiss. “Here’s the thing,” Sunghoon stands up, moving to a cabinet full of paperwork, all ordered and labeled much too neatly. 

“You want to pass these classes, right?” He stops to look over his shoulder at your confused face. “Or what was that again? Mommy’s not going to fund your European summer vacation trip? That one you’ve been dreaming about and making Pinterest boards for since middle school?”

“She told you about that?” You grumble, whispering to yourself. “That bitch..”

“Shh, that’s no way to speak about your mother, she’s a lovely woman.” He winks, snapping his fingers. “Here it is. I took these courses my first year of college. Top grades in my class, of course.” Sunghoon shrugs, pulling out two thick folders. “You see because of tutoring, I’ve saved all my study guides, assignments, tests, quizzes, cheat sheets, well— you get the point. Right here, I have everything to help you pass these courses with minimal effort on your part required.”

“Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?” You say annoyed, standing up to snatch the folders from him.

“Nuh-uh-uh—“ Sunghoon has the nerve to laugh, lifting the files high above him and throwing back his head to cackle when you jump up in an attempt to steal them anyway. “Why would I make it that easy for you?”

“Why not??” You grunt, slapping his arm. “You don’t want to tutor me! I don’t want to be here! Let’s do us both this favor so my mom can get off my ass.”

Sunghoon snorts, flicking your chin condescendingly. “First lesson in Economics, everything has a price.”

“You want money??” You ask completely bewildered. “With all the money your dad gives you, you really need more from me??”

He analyzes the distraught anger building up between your wrinkled eyebrows, nodding and smirking. “I didn’t say anything about money.” Sunghoon waves the folders in your face, smacking them lightly on the top of your head before laughing again when you swing at him again. 

“I said a price.” He thumbs through the stacks of paperwork, biting back a smile. “You have something I want.”

He steps closer to you, reaching for the hem of your shirt again. “Something you’ve done a real good job of hiding.”

“Wha—“

Sunghoon tilts his chin in, eyes half-lidded with his head angled lower, grazing a thumb across the waistband of your shorts. “How much are you willing to do for me to get what you need?”

“You’re not serious.” Your palms itch by your hips, ready to slap the growing smirk off his face.

“Maybe I am..” he trails off, dipping his thumb past the button of your shorts. “Depends..” he tugs, pulling your hips to his. “How serious are you about your dream summer vacation? Because if I was you.. I wouldn’t fuck up this opportunity I’m offering you.”

“You—“ stammering, you pull away until the 

backs of your knees meet the edge of his bed, cursing under your breath. “You want..”

“Wanna fuck you?” Sunghoon says flatly, eyebrows raised to patronize you further. “A lot of air passing through that head of yours?”

“Man, fuck you.”

“I’m giving it my all.” He shrugs, throwing the folders onto his bedside table. “Listen, you’re giving me virgin vibes. Is that what this is about?”

“What?!”

“Ah, I should have known.” Shrugging, he points a finger up and down your figure. “You’re one of those prudish types. That’s why you cover up so much, yeah?”

“I’m not a virgin.”

Sunghoon’s shoulders fall, squinting at you apprehensively. “Then what’s the deal? What, you’re the only girl within a 50 mile radius that hasn’t thought about my dick?”

“You’re actually insufferable.” You say, stunned that you’ve even found yourself having this conversation. “Besides, our parents are married now.”

Sunghoon smiles, not a charming or genuine smile, a vindictive terrifying one at best. “Exactly, little step-sister.”

Who knew that the Park Sunghoon is really nothing but your average typical perverted horny young-adult man. You frown, taking in his clean-cut pristine appearance, that shallow sinking sensation of realization melting between your chest.

All men are the same.

“You’ll really help me pass?”

Sunghoon nods greedily, moving into your personal space to nudge your chin. “Trust me, you couldn’t fail even if you tried with my help.”

“Okay.” You whisper, scanning his room for a fast way to escape.. if you need to. “Why me?”

Sunghoon laughs breathily, reaching for the end of your t-shirt to slowly inch up your torso. “Why not you.” He pokes your navel, index finger dragging upward, tracing the center of your stomach up to where your bra lays.

Whiplash hits hard between the churn in your stomach and a shiver rippling up through your limbs. Given any other scenario, one where you weren’t being threatened so-to-speak to pleasure your step-brother, you can’t deny that you’d give in willingly either way. 

Sunghoon in every sense is fatally attractive. From his deep voice, to the aromatic musky sweet cologne wafting off his clean soft exfoliated skin, to his, well, devastatingly gorgeous unflawed face; you have to tell yourself once again, things could be much worse.

“What do you want me to do?”

He grins, tapping your forehead with his free hand, index finger prodding condescendingly. “Not that dumb after all. Knew you had it in you princess.”

Sunghoon cups your breast, thumb pushing at your nipples through the cup of your bra. “Take it off.”

He takes one step back, motioning with his chin for you to hurry up. The easy part is pulling your shirt off, not as if he hadn’t seen you in a sports bra the other day. Crossing his arms, he nods for you to continue, biceps bulged out from where they clench against his chest.  

Heat of embarrassment traces up your neck, smoothing the straps of your bra off your shoulders as you look away and reach back to unhook the clasp, dropping the garment down to your feet. Sunghoon pouts his lips, quietly whistling and returning to his spot, much too close, close enough to lodge one of his thighs between yours. “That wasn’t so hard now was it.”

Cupping your hips, he peers down, taking in your chest up close with the top row of his teeth searching for his bottom lip to dig into. Unbeknownst to you, it’s been awhile.

Four weeks actually, Sunghoon realizes at the first twitch of his length against his pants, lodging himself closer to your center for you to feel it. 

“Very pretty.”

Fastening your waist, his digits dig into your sides, forcing a gasp to spill from your mouth. “I was right.” He says smugly, tickling up past your chest and now hardened nipples. “Noticed those pretty lips first.”

Sunghoon gets your heart racing easily, splaying a palm over your throat as his other hand cups your chin, dipping his thumb into the fat of your bottom lip. “Bet $1000 they’d look even prettier struggling to take my dick.”

His thumb sneaks in past your lips, pressing against the center of your tongue until you whimper, chest pushed up against yours. “Show me you pretty that mouth can look.”

He keeps whispering about your slutty mouth and breasts, thumb shoved into the hilt allowing for you to mimic a blow-job around him. Lips circled around the digit obscenely as you slurp his thumb and dip your head up and down. “That’s it, suck me real fucking good just like that until I cum all over these pretty tits.”

Sunghoon’s thigh jerks up between yours, digging up higher until his muscle flexes against your warm crotch. “No gag reflex princess?” He grins, neck bending in close to lavv at the mess of spit pouring free from your lips suctioned around his thumb. “Messy messy messy.”

The grip on your neck tightens, forcing a burning itch up your throat, eyes squeezing shut as you cough and unintentionally bite down on his hand. “Fuck!”

Sunghoon hisses, tearing his hand away with a shake to get rid of the sting, glaring at you as he returns to grab your jaw roughly. “What the fuck was that?”

Bleary wet eyes stare back at him, bottom lip drawn out innocently, his tongue clicks, shaking his head annoyed. “Don’t fucking do that again.”

Sunghoon rumbles deep within his chest, pushing down on your shoulders until you drop to your knees in startlement, recuperating quickly to get between his thighs as he sits and manspreads before you. He slaps your hands away faster than you can say ‘ouch’, drawing them to your chest with a dramatic pained hiss.

“Not like that,” he tuts, unbuttoning his pants and nodding to the zipper. “I’m even giving you a head start, say thank you.”

Tight-lipped, you crouch in closer and mutter a ‘Thank You’, burning head to toe from the embarrassment, because whether you want to admit it or not, Sunghoon’s hot. You can always fib the truth, but the damp material between your thighs will give you away each time; having to clench your legs together for a bit of relief.

“Good, now remember what I said, no biting.” Sunghoon warns you again, pinching your chin. “No hands either, get me off with that pretty mouth only.”

Lazily, watching you with hooded eyes, Sunghoon reaches lower to run the pads of his fingers down the zipper of his pants, taunting you further. “I’m waiting.” Continuing down, he traces the prominent shape of his cock, starting from the base and working to the tip as he lines the shape. The chubbed up girth clearly visible this up close, already swelling your throat just from looking at it.

The silver zipper gleams back at you, dangling a bit as if to mock you more. Thickly swallowing, you scoot in on your knees, nose brushing the shape on your way to catch the zipper between your lips and struggle to pull it down, his pants tighter from the stretch of his hardened cock ready to rip through the material.

Sunghoon chuckles when you finally manage to get the zipper down, wishing to further humiliate you, if only his cock agreed. “Little princess doesn’t know how to suck dick, huh?” He coos in a fake sweet tone, shifting up to push down his pants past his knees. “What do you say?”

“Thank you..”

“Fast learner, I like that.” He laughs mirthfully, nodding to his hard-on once again. “Let’s see what you got.”

“You said no teeth.” You say, growing annoyed the more you watch his cock throb, confined by the tight material of his briefs. The wet spot at the tip indicates more than enough that he’s tired of waiting. “Take it out!” Rolling your eyes, you slap his knee, demanding he at least do that.

“No wonder you’re failing so many classes.” Sunghoon mumbles, rolling his eyes back at you and shoving his briefs down past the wet head of his cock, widening your gaze as you take all of him in, all.

“Two classes..” you trail off, suddenly antsy as he circles the base of his length and strokes upward fully displaying the full thick long size of his girth. “You’re huge.”

Sunghoon snorts, squeezing under the head for his foreskin to pull back around the bulbous tip, glistening with precum. “Don’t look so terrified, it’s unbecoming.”

Even his fingers brighten with a shade of pink, the whites disappearing as he strokes and tugs against the tip. “Now.” Biting down on his lip he adjusts for the head of his cock to hover near your parted mouth, dragging the wet head slowly along your upper lip. “Let’s see if that gag-reflex is actually nonexistent.”

Without waiting another second he reaches for the back of your head, tangling his fingers through your hair to push your face toward his lap and glide past your lips. The intrusion throws you off initially, coughing around the fat stretch pulling the corners of your lips apart further. “Fuck, feels real good.”

The heavy weight of his cock rushes spits down your chin as he builds up a pace, balls hitting your chin the more he works you up and down while simultaneously lifting his hips up to hit the back of your throat. Sunghoon groans, teeth clicking together from biting down hard to keep his voice low, thrusting harder and rougher until your throat gives and loosens up around him allowing him into the back of your throat. “Oh fuck!”

Finding the perfect angle to have your mouth constricted around his length, he holds you down; ripping tears from your eyes from the constant burn around your lips, incessantly stimulating the inside of your mouth and suppressing your breathing.

It’s agonizing at first, making Sunghoon’s abdominal muscles lock up and suck in from the lack of sound coming out of you. His eyes roll back, circling into your mouth easily in disbelief. 

“Your throats such a perfect little fuckhole for me, huh?” He babbles, finally pulling out. The release pouring out wads of spit down your chin and neck, wide-eyed as you catch your breath.

“Is that pussy wet?” Sunghoon bends forward, reaching to pinch and tug on your stiff nipples, twisting the buds between his fingers. “Don’t lie to me, I can see it all over your face.”

“Y-yes..” succumbing to the invisible weight against your chest, you nod; head dropping shamefully in a weak attempt to hide what you can only imagine the mess looks like all over your chin; staring down blearily at the river of spit and precum running down your chest, meeting in the middle before splitting off under your chest.

“Does it hurt?” Slapping your breasts, he grips one, digits kneading into the fat and pushing it up higher on your chest; his other hand wrapping around your neck to lift your gaze back to him. “Pussy hurts so bad doesn’t it?”

Gulping beneath his grip, your eyes fall shut with a whimper, tears streaking down the sides of your cheeks. Huffing for a breath under his choke as you crumble and can’t find your voice to say more.

“Come on,” Sunghoon shakes your neck, jostling your head, making your eyes snap open. “Fucking look at me.” He bites, reaching his other hand up to stroke your hair away from your face and examine the wads of tears clumping your eyelashes together. Swollen wrecked lips hung open desperately panting for air, lines of wet and dried tears racing down under your chin. “Tell me exactly what your pussy wants.”

It’s more than degrading, because he knows you don’t want it, not really. Not your mind, your heart, but just like the rest, your cunt will always be your downfall. Greedy for cock like any common whore.

“Y-you,” you cry, fitting your hand around his wrist as a silent plea to loosen his grip on your throat. “Wants you.”

Smirking to one side, his gaze sparks with a different type of vindictiveness, one that lets you know that you won’t be getting none of that. Holding your neck back, he scoots forward until his ass nearly hangs from the bed, gripping around the base of his angry blood-filled cock to slap angrily between your chest. The sudden smack of hot flesh on your wet breasts has you arching up, coughing with another squeeze around your throat. “Think I don’t know that princess? I bet you could cum from this alone. You know how big of a slut you have to be to get off just from sucking cock?” 

Sunghoon drops your neck with a wide pleased smirk, releasing his hold on you to scoop under your breasts, pushing the fat mounds together for his cock to perfectly sandwich between with a guttural groan. “Oh fuck, that’s it.”

He thrusts viscously, pumping between your breasts, eyebrows bunched together releasing short breathy hisses through his pursed lips. “Fuck, look at the way those tits bounce, better than a pussy.” Sunghoon groans, slamming his cock in and out, losing his hold on your breasts the more ferocious his movements become. 

“Hold your tits for me.” Sunghoon growls, snarling when you don’t move fast enough. “Push them together, squeeze around me real tight baby.” Grunting, he wraps around the back of your neck, hips moving on their own to fuck between your jiggling breasts, spit and precum guiding the way for his cock to slip right through, the tip hitting the hollow between your collarbone.

Each thrust has you jerking under his control, his hand gripping your nape rougher for more command over his movements. Ramming his girth in and out, he mutters multiple curses, hips twitching up with one last thrust before reaching up into your hair, gathering enough in his hands to create two pigtails.

“Back in that slutty mouth.” 

Sunghoon’s pull on your hair snaps your neck back, mouth popping open for him to freely shove the entirety of his size back inside. The tip of his cock slides past your tonsils, finally making you gag and lurch around him, coughing out copious amounts of drool around his size as he relentlessly hammers in chasing after release.

 “That’s it, that’s it, that’s it!” He shouts between gritted teeth, hips angled to stretch your mouth wide open. Balls deep with every inch of his cock drenched in a mess of spit, the heat and suction from your lips grows overbearing; burying as deep as he can with your nose struggling to breathe against his neatly trimmed pubic hairs. “Ugh!”

Pulling hard enough on the tufts of hair balled up in his fists, he shouts behind sucked in lips, eyes wrinkled shut to stop himself from screaming out loud. Between panted breath, Sunghoon orders you to swallow, grinding his hips forward leaving you with no choice but to comply. Mouth locked around his cock as long streaks of cum shoot inside the back of your throat, gurgling around his length as he fills you up. Tightening his grip on your hair almost punishingly, he pulls the tufts tightly into his fist; cock buried deep ensuring you take every last drop.

“All of it.” he croaks, tone breaking into a rasp. “Swallow all of it.” With one more deep grunt, he pulls out, the last bit of cum spilling out onto your chin. Wet cock dragging down your cheek with a satisfied cocky smirk on his face. 

“You look way too good with my dick on your cheek, could seriously get hard again just from looking at you.” 

Sunghoon sighs, collapsing back on his bed with a long-winded sigh, head dizzy from the aftermath of his orgasm still passing through his limbs. “Fuck that was too fucking good.” He says more to himself, sounding elated, completely missing the grimace painting your face as you lick between your teeth, nose scrunched up.

“Done?”

Sunghoon’s hand lifts, waving your question off. “Yeah yeah.”

He pushes up to stand just in time to see you use the inside of your shirt to clean off your chin and chest, tongue clicking because he should have made you swallow that too. 

“I’ll let you know when we can have our next session.” Sunghoon winks, standing up to wave the packet of completed aced quizzes and assignments over your head. “If only you took school as serious as you take sucking cock.”

Snatching the packet from him, you leer, ripping open his bedroom door ready to run for the bathroom to douse yourself in shower gel and scrub the fuck out of your skin, halted as you come face to face with the other Park. Thankfully not your step-father.

Heeseung’s eyes go wide as if he’s been caught, eyes shifting back and forth up and down the hallway for a way to sneak off. 

“What are yo—“

“I can explain!” Heeseung whispers urgently, running a hand through his hair anxiously, grateful that you closed the door behind you. “I mean, I didn’t hear anything.”

“What?”

“I mean—“‘he stutters, waving goodbye and shaking his head dismissively before jogging down the hall to his bedroom. 

“Weird.”

A much needed shower keeps your mind occupied from delving too deep into what Heeseung could have been doing out there, passing by more than likely. Maybe. Scrubbing your forearms and stomach down until your skin burns, you hiss, replaying the sounds of Sunghoon’s moans and pleasured breathy whines. What the hell did he mean by ‘next session’, did he really plan to make this a recurring activity? 

Why would he want to start up some type of fuck-buddy situationship with you either way? As the bathroom mirror clears up of fog, you brush at the backs of your teeth roughly, swearing that you can still taste particles of his tangy cum. Leave it to some dickhead to be the first to spill his load inside of your mouth, he’s lucky you didn’t regurgitate it and spit it all back in his face.

It’s no worse than the random hot frat guy you’ve hooked up with at a party, or bartenders that slipped you their number at a club to meet up at the end of their shift; other than you know, the whole parents married to each other: siblings through matrimony aspect.

That’s one way to make yourself feel better about what just happened, shrugging it off as you exit the bathroom and make way to your bedroom, paused on the way down the hall to glimpse in the direction of Heeseung’s room. A low murmur of music drifts from his cracked open door, focusing on your hearing at the familiarity. “Is that?”

Too nosey for your own good, you creep toward his bedroom, lighting up at your correct recognition. “You like Deftones?”

Heeseung jolts up in his computer chair, dropping the vinyl record in his hands at your surprise entrance. “Shit.”

“Oh, sorry.” You flinch, hoping your presence didn’t crack the record as it hits his bedroom floor. “Should have knocked..”

“My fault my fault,” he waves calmly, internally screaming with quick a fast analysis of the record and vinyl for any damage. “All good.” He breathes, finally getting a look at you only to choke on his spit at the towel wrapped around your chest. “Oh uh..”

“I love this song.” You nod, moving further into his room to read over the various posters hung up from wall to wall. “Wow, you have good taste.”

“Wait,” he sits up, ignoring the lack of clothing beneath that towel. And the sweet scent of vanilla and peach now filling his room, the driblets of water still clinging to your skin; glowing in a ridiculously unrealistic manner where you stand.. 

“Did you say you like Deftones?”

“Love them.” You correct, moving inside to sit on the end of his bed, thighs pressed together tight. “My favorite band actually.”

“No way.” Heeseung looks down to avoid making it glaringly obvious how hard he’s fighting to not stare at every inch of your exposed skin. “That’s crazy.”

“Why? Because I’m a girl?” You scoff, making your step-brother shake his head. 

“One of my favorite bands too, maybe my all time favorite.” He informs, coughing to clear his throat and stand, moving to a crate full of records. “What’s your favorite release?”

“Probably Diamond Eyes, I won’t lie. This Place Is Death is like the best song ever.” 

Heeseung can feel his ears burn, swallowing as he turns to show you an original copy of the first release of said album. “You have good taste too, I really like Beauty School.” 

“Great choice.”

Heeseung nods timidly, moving to the record player to play your favorite track. “There’s something really out-of-body about this song.”

“Right? It’s like floating, weightless. The vocals and music harmonize together so good, it's like I’m in a dream.”

Heeseung does his best to ignore the suggestive lyrics for now, returning to his seat. “Have you seen them live? I went to their last tour, great setlist.”

Pouting, you shake your head ‘no’, gripping the connected top of your towel to adjust the tightness over your chest. “I wish, my moms kind of.. strict, I guess. I’ve stopped asking her about concerts after hearing no a handful of times. Don’t need another lecture about how this type of music is for the low lives of society, bottom feeders, boot lic—“

“Oh woah woah.” Heeseung interrupts with an uncomfortable chuckle, trying not to take any of it personally. Your mom does seem like a hard ass.. 

“Sorry.”

“No no, I’m sorry, that suck’s seriously.”

Shrugging, you give him a playful frown. “Nothing you could do about it. All she cares about is my looks and grades, and my role in society.” Even if it’s just to end up becoming some wealthy man's stay-at-home housewife to be cheated on someday. Not that you need to bring up that part.

Heeseung pinches his bottom lip in thought, nodding along to what you’re saying, choosing to shove aside the sound of his brother's grunts and heavy panting at the mention of your grades. “They’re playing next week actually, maybe…”

“Oh really? Are you going?” 

He hums, going on about how many concerts he’s been to this year alone. “If there’s a tour in town, I’ll be there.”

“Ah, I’m jealous.” Digging your toes to the floor, you sit up straight and clutch your towel with a mortified expression. “Oh my God, I’ve been sitting here this whole time like this?!?” Rushing to stand, you skitter quickly for the door, turning to bow apologetically. “My heads all foggy, I wasn’t even thinking.”

Heeseung laughs softly, muttering off a ‘no no no it's all good’. 

“My doors usually open,” he shrugs, jokingly mentioning to knock at least so he doesn’t end up wailing out a loud high-pitched scream that he’ll never be able to live down. “Whenever you wanna hang out and listen to music or whatever.”

“I’ll make you regret that.” You grin, waving before making your way out.

Heeseung lets out a long sigh, mostly from releasing the tension in his back after trying(and failing) to fight off his perverse thoughts.

She’s fucking Sunghoon anyway, he reminds himself. Of course she is. Everyone’s favorite Park brother, even their parents.

Heeseung shoves that aside in the meantime, laying back on his bed to enjoy the faint traces of your body wash left behind.

Heeseung’s been on edge ever since overhearing his brother on the phone, almost forgetting himself of the younger’s relationship. He sits stiffly against his headboard, gnawing at his lip to quell away his nerves. They’d be back soon from picking her up, and luckily luring you to his bedroom had become easier the more you realized how many bands you both listen to.

“So, what are you doing later?”

Even from the side of your face he can tell your eyebrows furrow, confused that he’d even ask. “Mom didn’t tell you about the dinner?”

Bile rises in his throat at the casual way you say mom, swallowing down the need to correct you. Shaking it off, he repeats to himself to focus before time runs out.

“I had plans to meet up with a few friends tonight, we scored some last minute tickets to the Deftones concert a few towns over. Might go explore this new record store beforehand, you’re welcome to come.” Heeseung scratches his nape apprehensively, focused on you thumbing through the crates of vinyls lined up along his bedroom wall. “My friend Jake, he uh.. he can’t make it tonight, change of plans. I offered to buy his ticket off of him if you wanna…”

“A concert tonight?” You frown, ending your search when one of the album covers catches your eye, gently drawing it out and delicately freeing the record. “This is one of my favorites by them, you have good taste”

Heeseung silently agrees, lifting the record player's needle for you to set it in place. “Yeah, we can go out to Rick’s Rockin’ Records too, I haven’t been since they moved to a new location out there. Maybe grab something to eat, or.. whatever you want to do. I already asked dad if I can borrow the car tonight.”

“Hmm,” music thrums from his speaker set-up, the volume low blending in well with the darker atmosphere he’s built in his bedroom. “Can’t do that today, mom said tonight’s really important. Something about meeting Sunghoon’s friend, I don’t know she wasn’t super specific.”

Heeseung sighs, chewing on his nail as he sits down on his bed and watches your hips sway slowly to the beat of the music. “About that—“

“I should probably get ready actually,” you groan, turning to look at him with an annoyed sneer. “If not I’ll never hear the end of it over dinner. Surprised your dad’s letting you go out?”

“Well..” Heeseung stands in an attempt to distract you and try to keep you in his room longer if possible. Not that it would help to keep you away from heading downstairs at some point.. 

“What if I talk to your mom? You said you never get to see them when they tour.” Heeseung says in a rushed panicked tone. “I don’t want this free ticket to go to waste.”

“You would do that for me?” You squint back at him confused, from barely having more than a few run-ins and conversations over music in the last few weeks; his eagerness seems misplaced, unusual even.

“I mean,” Heeseung can feel his mouth drying up, patting his palms down his sides to calm his nerves. “It’s not a big deal.”

The telltale sound of a car engine shutting off outside of his window steals both of your attention, cursing under your breath as you peer through his blinds. “I have to get ready.”

“Wait wait!” Heeseung blocks the door before you can manage to leave, awkwardly stretching his arms out. “The other day, with my brother..”

“Oh.” 

“It’s not like that.” His hand waves, reaching to massage his temples. “There’s something about him that I think you should know.”

“No no, it’s okay. I’m not into him like that.” You lie, avoiding his gaze. “My mom’s making him tutor me, that’s why I was in his room. I mean like, when you saw me.”

Heeseung nods, mouth opening and shutting repeatedly. “Do you like him?”

“What? No.” You answer too fast, huffing out a laugh while peering around him for an escape. “Why would I like him? He’s..”

“Everyone likes Sunghoon.” He says factually, expression drooping as he nods and steps aside. 

Yeah. Everyone. Including you.

The shout of your name breaks your thoughts, saved by the bell as your mothers tone rings out akin to an alarm. Lifting up onto the balls of your feet you apologize and scamper away to rush out of Heeseung’s bedroom. 

“You better be ready!” She follows, making you work urgently to race through your closet for an outfit she would choose for you. Something to make you seemingly presentable enough in the presence of whomever your mother considers ‘important’.

What if it’s one of Sunghoon’s attractive friends? He’s good looking, good looking people tend to know each other, right? He seems to prefer when you show more skin.. but a deadly glare from your mom may not be worth it only for a few fleeting glances of interest.

A knee length high-neck dress can’t make her mad, you’re positive she purchased this for you at some point anyway.

Another shout of your name has you jogging toward the stairs while hopping into a pair of flats and attempting to zip up the back of your dress all at once, the extra hobble down the last few steps drawing a round of attention your way right as you land with a deep breath and smooth out the wrinkles down your front.

“There you are.” Your mother glowers, eyeing you disapprovingly and reaching to tug on one of your earlobes. “Not even a pair of earrings? Could you be more of a slob, darling?” She whispers, wrapping an arm around your back and leading you into the living room. 

Sunghoon stands near his father, back facing the both of you as he nods and laughs at something obscured by their combined size. 

“Our guest just landed an hour ago and still had the decency to at least wear a pair of high heels. What’s your excuse?”

High heels?

“Ah, there you are.” Your step-dad turns, unveiling a petite blonde, still small in stature despite the 5 inch pair of stiletto Chanel pumps pinching her toes. Perfectly feminine and radiant where she stands close to Sunghoon’s side. “This is Miyeon, Sunghoon’s girlfriend.”

Heeseung leans near one of the entrances, gaze bouncing back and forth from his brother, to you, to Miyeon. The air is heavy enough to shatter through glass, freezing you in place with wide eyes. “Girlfriend?”

Sunghoon clears his throat, avoiding your questioning glare as he reaches to pull Miyeon in and places a kiss on top of her head. 

“Yes, they’ve been together since middle school, can you believe that?” 

“No. I can’t.” You say stoically, going fully ignored by your step-brother. 

“Miyeon attends school in New York, but she’s back home for the week.” Your step-father informs, smiling lovingly at his son and his presumed future daughter-in-law. 

“Middle school.” You repeat under your breath, eyes darting around for something to distract you. Heeseung comes near, not missing your surprise. 

“Hey, I’m heading out soon if you—“

“Yes!” You pipe up abruptly, reaching for his arm, aggressively nodding. “Right, the concert!”

“What concert?” Your mother asks, tongue clicking annoyed. “What have I told you about concerts”

“I invited her.” Heeseung states confidently, excusing himself to stand in front of you. “If that’s okay with you, dad? They’re her favorite band and she never gets to see them. I had an extra ticket so I offered..”

“That’s awfully nice of you Hee.” Sunghoon says with a sleek gaze, hugging Miyeon tighter into his side. “What about Jake?”

“He’s feeling sick.” Heeseung snaps back at his younger brother, returning to his father who looks contemplative. 

“That is nice of you.” He reiterates, humming and reaching for his wallet. “Get something to eat too, since you’re not staying for dinner.”

Your mother’s eyes widen at that, biting down hard on her teeth to force a smile. “Ah, I cooked enough for all of us.”

“It will be good for the kids to spend time together.” He shrugs. “Leftovers never hurt anyone darling. Here Hee, don’t stay out too late or your mom won’t be able to sleep.”

He hands over a rolled up wad of cash, reaching for the keys in his pocket. “Take my car, Hoon’s going to need his to drive Miyeon home later.”

“I thought I was staying over?” You hear her whisper to your step-brother, the scowl between his eyebrows unwavering as he glares back and forth from his brother to you.

“Since when have the two of you been close?” He asks, ignoring Miyeon’s question.

Heeseung shrugs, wringing the keys around his fingers. “Learn something new everyday, don’t we?” He subtly peers from his brother to the girl by his side, fast enough to go unnoticed to anyone other than Sunghoon.

“I think it’s nice.” Your step-father speaks up. “I’m happy to see you kids getting along like real siblings.”

Heeseung forces a smile, unable to explain to himself why that comment even bothers him. “We’ll be safe.” He says to your mother, nodding for you to follow him.

“Uhm,” matching his pace you smooth down the dress you wore specifically with your mother’s judgemental glare in mind, not bothering to even say goodbye to Sunghoon nor his girlfriend. “Should I change?” 

Heeseung shrugs, scanning your figure swiftly and scratching the side of his neck. “If you want to feel more comfortable? It’s a general admission show so..”

“Give me a minute, yeah?” He nods, adding that he’ll get the car started as you jog up the stairs and burst through your closet, ripping off the stuffy drab outfit from your skin. ‘What should I even wear to a concert?’

“What the fuck is this about?” Sunghoon surprises you, jumping up with a gasp and tugging a sweater in front of your chest. “Why is Heeseung taking you out?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend?” You snap back, hissing under your breath after hearing the faint sound of conversation bustling downstairs, Miyeon’s charming laughter sprinkled between. “I wouldn’t have..”

“Wouldn’t have what?” He steps forward, crowding into your space inside of your closet. “Suck my dick the way she never would?”

He smirks, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and lifting his other to show off a silver band snuggly fitted on his ring finger. “We’re promised to each other.”

Sunghoon whispers, grazing your upper lip. “That means waiting until marriage.”

“You cheated!” You hiss, shoving his stomach. “You made me cheat with you!”

“I didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do.” He says in a mean-spirited tone, flicking your chin. “Besides, you think I’d ever treat my future wife like some slut?”

“Fuck you.”

“Soon.” He nods, inching in to lay a soft kiss on your Cupid’s bow. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. Whatever this thing is you have going on with my brother, cut it out.”

“There’s nothing going on between us.” You shove, digging your palms against his stomach. “He’s nice, unlike you.”

“Yeah. He’s a real good liar.” Sunghoon grits, easing off you. “I have to get back to dinner, disappointed you won’t be joining us.” 

“Sure you are.” He reaches for your neck again, large palm engulfing most of it. 

“Really wanted to see you try to cover up your guilt.” His tongue clicks, tilting his head to the side to smile. “The look on your face when my dad introduced you,” he sucks in a breath between his teeth, dimpled cheeks sinking in. “It was priceless.”

“Get away from me.” You try to push again, digging your nails into his waist. 

“You thought..” he strokes down your cheek, forehead resting against yours. “That I like you, right? Already dreaming of your step-brother turning into your boyfriend?” He hums, pinching your cheek. “Cute.”

“Sunghoon! What’s taking so long!” Your mother calls from downstairs, halting your next snide remark. 

“One second!” Rolling his eyes, he turns back to you, thumb smoothing under your eye. “Take what I say seriously.” He sighs, pecking your chin and bottom lip. “Don’t piss me off.” With a fake smile and lit up eyes he lays one more kiss atop your mouth, pulling away enough for his words to trace across your lips. “Because I’ll find out, and whatever you think you’ll get away with here— you won’t.” 

Straightening out, he winks, patting your cheek and laughing when you look away with a clenched jaw. “Asshole.” You mutter, quickly pulling out an oversized old t-shirt and shorts to throw on. Having made Heeseung wait long enough, and now even more annoyed than before you forgo the idea of picking out something cute.

It’s just your step-brother anyway, he’s seen you look worse.

Running out of the house before your parents can try bother you with a lecture do’s and don'ts you apologize, hopping into the passenger seat short of breath.

“Sorry sorry, my mom,” you wave, giving your mind a second to conjure up a lie. “You know, doing her mom thing.”

Heeseung smiles, nodding to your seatbelt and backing out of the driveway. “Don’t think we’ll have time to grab a bite before the opener, if that’s okay with you?”

Ignoring the rumble in your stomach, you nod and shoot him a thumbs up. “It’s fine, seriously thank you for getting me out of there.”

Taking in a deep breath you start to settle, watching the road and listening to the soft tune of what you recognize as Deftones latest release, stealing a glance at Heeseung’s phone to confirm. “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s up?” His lips pout, drumming along to the beat as you enter a freeway.

“When you invited me to come with you tonight..” Heeseung clears his throat, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

“Did you know?” Chewing your lip nervously, you sit up straight to watch his side and the blush rise from his neck to the middle of his face. “About.. her?”

“I’ve known about Miyeon for years.” He says, focused on the road. “I knew she was in town too.”

“Did Sunghoon ask you to keep me distracted?”

He blinks surprised, eyes going wide. “Sunghoon doesn’t speak to me unless he has no other choice.” He says flatly, gripping at the steering wheel tightly, losing interest in the change of song. “I invited you because..”

“You saw what happened the other day?” You ask, turning away remembering the awkward silence you shared with your step-brother after your tutoring session.

“Well no.” He trails off for a moment, letting out a long winded sigh. “I know how my brother is. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together..”

“Are you going to tell our parents?”

Heeseung shakes his head out of the corner of your eye, seemingly flabbergasted you’d even ask that. “I’d never do that. I really mostly invited you hoping to.. yeah, completely avoid this from happening.” He laughs nervously. “I’m not too good at this, whatever this is.”

“No no it’s okay.” You try to emphasize it’s not a big deal, even if the invisible weight crushing your chest says otherwise. “I really appreciate that you thought of doing this for me. I’m excited! This is way better than sitting around eating my mom’s terrible cooking and listening to your dad rant about how amazing Sunghoon is for the hundredth time.”

Heeseung grins, loosening back up, fingers returning to tap along with the music. “He does tend to do that.”

As much as you can’t fight off your thoughts from racing back to Sunghoon, you keep up conversation with your step-brother, both doing your best to avoid bringing him up again. Heeseung made the effort to get you away from a possibly ugly situation, the least you can do is at least try to have fun. Sunghoon will have to be dealt with later.

“Lines not too bad.” Heeseung parks, directing his chin to the front of the venue. “We can probably get barricade.”

“Cool.” You shrug, not wanting to give off how clueless you are about concert culture as you make your way to the line of fans noticing many seem paired off, couples mostly.

Standing by your step-brother lamely attempting to come up with a topic to talk about, you bump into his side to relieve some tension. “I’m seriously so excited.”

Heeseung’s eyes meet yours, soft and large as he takes in your face up close and nods. He contemplates a reply, sorting from ‘I’m happy to hear that.’ and ‘that’s good, I’m glad.’ Before looking away and muttering.

“Should be a lot of fun.”

When Heeseung had mentioned getting a spot on the barricade you hadn’t realized he meant being front row, as you passed the ticket check and made your way inside he pointed out an empty spot the two of you could squeeze into, albeit a bit tight you managed to get in together and celebrate. “I can’t believe we’re in front!” You squeal, hopping up and down slightly.

“We really lucked out.” He glances around, wishing he’d at least had enough time to hit up the bar for drinks before the opener. Usually Jake could handle holding down a spot for them but given your naivety he opts to stay by your side. “I know you haven’t been to any concerts before but just a heads up, the crowd can get a little rough.”

“Oh, a lot of pushing?”

“Yeah.” Heeseung notices you’re surrounded by mostly larger men, a few girls sprinkled around here and there. At least the audience had a good mixture of both in comparison to the usual show. “If you’re uncomfortable at any point, let me know okay?”

“Ah, I don’t want you to worry about me.” You say, anxiously fixing your hair, only now realizing just how crammed in and close you are to everyone. The warmth building against your back grows suffocating as minutes go by. “I’ll be fine Hee.” 

Heeseung’s cheeks warm up, blaming it on the crowd filling out and getting heavier around him; not the shortened nickname that you’ve never used with him before. The opener finishes setting up, riling everyone up with their introduction and fast paced music. True to your step-brother’s warning, the pushing shocks you initially, throttled forward to be stuck against the top of the barricade railing. You smile through the sting of pain hitting the top of your ribcage, mentally noting to check for bruises later.

“Definitely need to check them out after that.” Heeseung swipes his phone open, tapping to follow the band. Showing no signs of discomfort he turns to you, smile falling. “You good?”

“Yeah yeah, uhm Deftones go on next?”

He shakes his head, full on frowning and snaking his arm around your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t feel good up here, we can move to the back.”

“No!” Draping your hands flat on the barrier, you push up to straighten your spine, cringing at how it aches already. “I want to watch from up here.”

Heeseung’s mouth shifts to one side in thought, eyeing the area around you before bracketing his arms on the barrier. “Get in front of me.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ll stop the shoving.”

“But you’ll get pushed..” you hesitate, hearing snickers from a group of guys behind you.

“I’ll be fine,” Heeseung motions, encouraging you to move in front of him. Easing into the space he created for you, a sense of relief washes over you, taking in short breaths of air without 3 bodies crushed against you. 

He taps the top of your head with his chin, leaning to the side of your face with a smile. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks Hee..” you offer an embarrassed smile, already feeling ashamed that your step-brother did all this to end your humiliation in the first place.

Heeseung does his best to ignore the bickering and scoffs around him, especially the group behind whispering about how the two of you should move to the back. ‘It’s not our problem that your girlfriend can’t hang.’

His neck prickles with sweat, ears perked up listening to the rest of their conversation. ‘Pretty prissy girls like that have no business up front anyway. Dude needs to leave his little girlfriend at home next time.’

Biting down on the backs of his teeth he has to stop himself from twisting around to yell that you’re not his girlfriend, saved by the next band that starts up; he relaxes and keeps the crowd away from you; accepting the brunt of the pain himself.

This is something a guy would do for his step-sister too, right? Why assume you’re his girlfriend, you could easily just be a friend..

Everything’s mostly smooth from there until Deftones attack the stage and guitar riffs blast through the speakers, swaying the crowd unanimously to follow along with the beat. He curses, clenching his fist on the barrier to keep you from following the force of eager bodies.

“Hee, are you okay?!” You ask in a panic, placing your hands over his fist. He nods fast, biting on his tongue as your fingers loop between his to hold him closer to you. His slow reaction allows enough space for another body to squeeze its way through the front, plastering his chest to your back with a gasp from the extra lack of space.

“I’m good! I’m good!” He says, trying to keep his cool with a smile and focus on the show that you’ve been waiting for. “It’s your favorite song!”

Heeseung nods ahead, too worried about keeping you safe to even take in that you’re fully crushed under him, the barrier digging into your chest. Trying his best to enjoy the show he shakes his head and sings along with the words he can remember, breath caught when your head lays back on his chest and you smile up at him.

“I love this song!” 

This isn’t Heeseung’s favorite song, but he remembered that it’s yours, and right as you pull your conjoined hands to lay against your stomach; this song sounds better than ever. 

“I love it too.”

“That was soooo much fun!” 

The two of you managed to squeeze through the crowd fast, your step-brother mentioning wanting to check out the merch before you head out. “I’m sooo sweaty.” you say, shaking off your shirt.

Heeseung looks over the tour shirts hung up, digging out the money his dad gave him. “Want one? We have enough.”

“Oh yeah, that one's really cute!”

“We’ll take two of those.” Heeseung points at the t-shirt, counting enough cash out for both.

“Matching couple tour shirts.” The merch guy says with a laugh. “So cute how many of you think of concerts as date nights.”

“What?” He says with a gulp, peeking from the corner of his eye at your surprised reaction. “We’re no—“

“That’ll be $50, knocked off $10 for the good looking pair.” He winks, passing you the shirts. “Now make this guy go buy you something to eat honey, and whatever you do after, it’s none of my business.”

“Uhh..”

“T-Thanks.” Heeseung stammers, hooking your elbow to drag you out of the crowd toward the exit. The air suddenly a lot tighter and harder to breathe in.

“That was weird, right?” You ask, following him to the car. “Well,” you pause, eyeing him over. “I guess we don’t look alike at all.” 

“People don’t assume the opposite sex can be just friends anymore I guess.” He scoffs, opening the passenger door for you. “He was right about one thing though, you hungry?”

“Starving.” You reply, tossing your bag onto the seat. “But first.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows lift, taking a step back as you begin to remove your shirt, mouth hung open confused. “What are you doing??”

“Told you, I’m drenched.” You say, fanning your chest. “I’d take off my bra too..” you shyly smile, shaking open the new shirt your step-brother just paid for. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

Tugging on the shirt, you reach around beneath to pull off your bra straps, struggling to unclasp the back. “Sorry Hee, can you help?” 

He swallows, eyes gone wide and nodding. “Uh, yeah sure..”

Heeseung moves behind you, pushing the shirt up to your shoulder blades and biting down on his tongue to not comment on how soft your skin feels. No. That’d be weird, right?

“I think the clasp is stuck..” he mumbles, nervously toying with one of the bra clasps that won’t unlatch.

“Ugh, fuck.” You sigh, swatting the air behind you. “Just rip it off.”

Heeseung tightens his lip, air pushing out of his nose to not groan. “Okay.”

He pulls the connected material apart, the sound of seams snapping and popping open under his strength following.

“Jesus, get a room man.” A drunk concert goer slurs out as he passes by, your bra coming undone finally right as your step-brother curses and presses in close to hide your exposed lower back. 

“Fuck off.”

“You know what? He has a point.” You laugh, shaking the t-shirt down your torso. “My step-brother removing my bra for me should probably be done behind closed doors..”

Heeseung can feel his chest rumble from your laughter, shoulders and upper back shaking against him. Instinctively taking a step back before vibration can travel lower as he imagines exactly that.

“Pizza sounds good.” He changes the subject fast, moving to get inside and get the engine warmed up. “You down?”

“Pizza sounds great.”

The two of you fall into easy conversation, excitedly discussing your favorite songs and parts of the concert. Easily finding a place open for 24 hours on the way home, albeit the slices of pizza more stiff and cardboard-like at this late hour with only one employee working the night shift.

“I hope it wasn’t too hard on you, having to watch out for me.” You say apologetically. 

“Wasn’t a big deal, seriously, don’t mention it.”

“I felt really bad though.” You lament, helping him by carrying the box of pizza. “You still got to enjoy the show, right?”

“Are you serious?” Heeseung waves you off, reaching for the passenger door again before you can open it yourself. “Best concert I’ve ever been to.”

“Right?!?” You joke, settling back into your seat with a laugh. “I say as if I’ve ever been to any others, but I have a feeling this will be one of my favorites.”

“I’ll take you to more concerts.” Heeseung hums, tapping the steering wheel before taking off. “Do you wanna go home right now? Or like..”

“Nah, mom will kill my dopamine high if I have to talk to her right now.”

“You’re right.” Snapping his fingers, he mentions the time. “There’s a park not too far from home, it’s empty by now. We can go there to eat and rush home fast if our parents get mad about the hour.”

“Sounds good.”

The parks nice and quiet, a few street lamps barely lighting up the small area where you settle at the top of the jungle gym and sit facing the street with your legs dangling from the top level of the structure.

“Pizzas not that great.” Heeseung laughs, shrugging, stuffing his mouth regardless.

“It’s perfect for a midnight snack.”

Agreeing, you fall into a comfortable silence, attempting to hide your shiver as a chilly breeze passes through. It’s too nice to head home now, unwilling to unless your phone starts to buzz with your mother shouting on the other end.

“Cold?” Heeseung removes his hoodie before you answer, leaning over to lay it down on your shoulders.

“Now you’ll be cold.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

He nods, looking away to admire the speckles of stars scattered between smog and clouds. Heeseung’s really nothing like his brother. No, because Sunghoon wouldn’t wish to spend time with you in this way, unless it involved his dick in your mouth or wherever..

“Hee, can I ask you something?”

Turning to face you, his lips tremble a bit from the rising crisp night air, raising goosebumps along his arms. “What’s up?”

“This is probably..” you hesitate, pulling his hoodie in tighter to your chest. “I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to..” The skin between his eyebrows folds together, head bobbing up and down for you to continue.

“It’s just, Sunghoon..”

Heeseung sighs, leaning back on his palms and dropping his head back. “I don’t know what he thinks about you, he doesn’t talk to me.” He says calmly before you can finish, laying back down flat with his eyes shut. “Sorry, can’t help.”

“It’s not that—well I mean..” you lower, laying on your side to watch his eyelashes twitch against the tops of his cheeks. “You guys really don’t talk and I guess I’m nosey..”

“Oh.” Heeseung blinks, eyes going wide at the realization of how close you are. “You mean like why we don’t talk?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugs, nibbling his bottom lip from side to side nervously. “We used to be really close, inseparable until our parents got divorced.” His eyebrows furrow, smoothing his palms together onto his stomach. “Hoon lived with our mom for a few years, he was always her favorite.”

Regret begins to seep through your chest, feeling like an asshole for even asking now. Of course their rift had to be more personal than some petty feud between brothers..

“We were still somewhat close during that time, but much like now, dad favored Hoonie too. He’s the baby, you know how it is. He needed more attention and coddling I guess.” Heeseung shrugs again, mostly to keep the topic light. “When we were kids he really looked up to me.. at least I always thought so.”

His breath deepens, releasing longer exhales and shutting his eyes again. “Mom got sick, really sick..”

“I’m sorry Heeseung, you don’t have to tell me..” 

“It’s okay.” Tucking in his upper lip, his eyes squeeze tightly, taking deep breaths before continuing. “I kind of dealt with her illness.. maybe improperly? I don’t know, I was a kid..”

“I’m sorry..”

“Hoonie..” his eyes stay shut, squeezing together at the mention of his brother. “When she passed away, I think he really needed me. I couldn’t be there for him.”

Silence thickens between the two of you, laying back down fully by his side in hopes of offering some type of comfort, a silent one of upper arms flushed together.

“I sort of lashed out..” Heeseung goes on, voice more strangled. “I blocked him out when he needed me the most and when the time came that I needed him,” he shrugs softly, huffing. “He wasn’t there for me anymore. I can’t blame him.”

Anything you can think of to say evades your mind, coming up blank with words that would be enough to show your sympathy. Without much thought other than how nice your step-brothers been, you reach for his hand and loop your fingers between his; bringing them down between your sides with a squeeze.

“He looked up to me when we were younger.” Heeseung at least sounds less tense, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes relaxing. “It didn’t really help that he was getting bullied at school too back then. He was a runt, small thing.” There’s an evident smile in his tone now, small enough to barely lift the corner of his mouth.

“I should have stepped in and defended him but..” he grips your hand tightly, thumb brushing back and forth. “Don’t think I regret anything more than those years.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“In some ways.” Heeseung clears his throat, lips pouting. “The least I could have done was take care of him, he’s my baby brother after all..”

“Nothing could have prepared any of you for what happened. Someday he’ll understand that..”

Heeseung wishes he could agree, but while his mourning period led to sadness and a crushed sense of hope, his brothers landed him in darkness. A cold bitter darkness, gradually day by day stripping away the last specks of light that once made up all of Sunghoon. 

“Yeah.” He lets out a tired sigh, head shaking and forcing a smile. “I’m sure someday we’ll live our own lives and he’ll see me as his trustworthy older brother again.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” 

“Haven’t talked about this in such a long time honestly.” He smiles, lifting your hands to rest on his stomach again. “Dad would be shocked by how much we’re getting along right now.”

“It’s weird, right?” You laugh meekly, eyes drifting to your conjoined hands. “That you’re like…” drifting off, your nose crinkles; recalling your friends joking about which of your step-brothers you’d be hooking up with first. “My brother.”

Heeseung’s eyes open up, stomach folding in from shooting up, letting out a hollered laugh. “Oh that was really weird, especially after having to hear that you’re my girlfriend from random strangers for the past 3 hours.”

He sits back up, easing his hold out of yours to smooth a palm down his nape out of nervous habit. 

“I can understand them.” You sit up with him, grabbing onto one of the steel bars to lean in closer to him. “We don’t make a bad looking couple.”

Heeseung’s thankful for the lack of lighting as heat rushes up his neck and burns its way under his eyes, cheeks more than likely bright pink full of blood. “Ah—well, good thing I’m not your type.”

“What?”

“You like Sunghoon.” He says nonchalantly. “Everyone likes him, he’s my brother so like—no I don’t get it.” He chuckles awkwardly. “I see the way everyone fawns over him though, pretty used to it by now.”

“I don’t like Sunghoon.” You grumble. That’s a lie, possibly, or maybe a conversation you’re not ready to have with yourself, let alone your step-brother. “And honestly, you’re way more my type than him.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious!” You shriek, reaching for his bicep. “Oh my god, you’re freezing!”

“It’s not that bad, feels good after being stuck together in that pit.”

“Come here,” scooting closer to him, you pull him into your chest, arm wrapping around his back to draw him into your warmth. “Can’t have you getting sick on me, we have concerts to go to now.”

Heeseung blinks furiously, tucking his chin in to ignore the rapid pace his heart gains, beating against his chest fiercely enough to fear that even you can feel it. “You’re right.” He keeps it short, lips trembling more due to his nerves than the temperature.

“This feels nice.” 

He nods, shifting slightly to rest his arm around your lower back and make the position you’ve ended up in more comfortable. “We should probably head home though, before your mom realizes you’re not safely tucked in bed.”

“I don’t know Hee.” You murmur, digging your nose into his now dried head of hair, a tangy scent of sweat and shampoo left behind. “I don’t want this night to end.” Or to have to see your brother again, let alone deal with whatever that was all about earlier..

Heeseung shivers against your chest, more from his excitement, but accepts the coo you let out and soothing rub down his spine. “Okay okay, don’t want you to catch hypothermia. You’re right, it’s getting late.”

“Sorry,” maintaining eye contact with his lap, he removes himself from your hold, taking deep breaths to ward off his thoughts. 

She’s your sister. She’s your sister. She’s your sister.

Step-sister.

“Before we go, I really do want to say thanks for everything.” You say, completely unaware of the mental war your step-brothers battling with. “From getting me out of the house, the concert, this cute shirt.” You lean back, pulling at the hem, only pronouncing your breast more through the material; not allowing him much of a choice but to look and notice how hard and obviously perked your nipples poke through. Right.. your bras currently residing in the backseat of the car..

“The pizza, bringing me here.” You list out everything, sporting a giant smile. “I seriously haven’t felt this happy in awhile. I kind of.. really needed this before losing my mind.”

Heeseung returns the smile, sharing your sentiment silently. “I’ll do my best from now on to make this a part of our routine.”

“It’s really a shame.”

“Hmm? What is?”

“That our parents ended up together.” You mumble, scanning his face anxiously. “You’re better than—I don’t know.. kind of lame to admit but I tried to picture different scenarios in which we’d somehow get to know each other.” You struggle to say, sucking air between your teeth. “Ah, I guess I kind of had a crush on you? Not really? But kind—“

Heeseung’s thighs bounce against the jungle gym, resisting the urge to lunge at you and smother you in kisses. The need grows harder and harder the more you go on and demurely shift around to avoid his gaze. It’s the whiny pout you fall into while saying you may or may not have had a crush on your step-brother that sets him off; pushing his upper half toward you and dropping the weight of his mouth upon yours with heated urgency.

It’s harder and sloppier than he intends for, swatting away every thought and emotion that could fully develop since the day you stepped inside of his bedroom with a curious glint in your eye. Beyond physical attraction, Heeseung can’t stop the annoying itch in his chest, the one warming him up from inside out everytime you’ve looked at him tonight. His nose crushes into the side of yours, the seam of his lips engulfing more of your top lip than managing to act out an actual kiss.

Drawing away with flushed cheeks, he licks his lips and begins spewing out an apology, shaking his head embarrassed. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I’m—“

The back of his head bounces against the metal walls behind him, hissing against your lips shoving into his. Mouth more commanding than his as you scramble to invade his space and drop your bottom onto his lap. 

“Sorr—“

“Shh, kiss me back, kiss me.” Between rushed bated breath and a messy lock of lips, you rock further into him, reaching for the holes scattered around the jungle gym walls to bury your fingers in and cage his head between your arms.

Heeseung’s hands flail for a minute, slapping down on your hips to grab onto something with a groan as your tongue probes between the line of his lips for access. The wet slip of your tongue glides through easily, making him gasp inside of your mouth as you wiggle a way through to taste the spit gathered at the sides of his tongue.

“Woah,” he draws back, lips already swollen from the short kiss. “What—we can’t!”

“Why?” Your eyebrows lift, concerned but dropping your bottom onto his lap hungry for more. “You don’t feel it??”

“What?!” Heeseung sits up, belting your waist to keep you in place, regrettably as you swivel in place right against his groin. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you like me?” You say pathetically, nearly ready to give up the more humiliating this becomes.

“Of course I do!” He laments, massaging up your sides. “I think I like you way more than I’m supposed to.”

“Hee, you’re not my brother.” You state, tucking his cold hands inside of your shirt to warm up against your stomach. “There’s nothing wrong about us kissing.”

Heeseung swallows, telling himself- well that’s simply not true. Other than that fact alone that you are… sleeping with his younger brother. 

“It’s late.” Heeseung sighs, pretending to yawn. “Let me take you home and we can talk about this after a good night's rest.”

“You can’t be serious.” Half offended and with a last stitch of effort you grab onto his hands, pushing them up your stomach, brushing along the underside of your breasts. “I know you feel it.”

Heeseung gulps, head dropping back against the jungle gym with a groan. “Yeah I.. I feel that..”

“It’s okay Hee, I want you.” Leaning in, you capture his mouth once more, sucking in his bottom lip as your hands encourage him to squeeze your chest. 

As hesitant as he feels, Heeseung can’t stop himself from squeezing your breasts, eyes fluttering shut as his length throbs inside of his boxers. “I want you too, you have no idea how bad I want this..”

“Let me see,” you say between kisses, rubbing your tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Show me, do anything you want with me.”

Heeseung’s stomach sinks, unable to stop his mind from drifting to the rough sounds he heard coming from his brother’s bedroom. What if you’re expecting him to be like Sunghoon..

“Please, let me take you home at least. I promise..” he breathes between your lips, softly layering kisses. “I’ll show you.”

“Ugh, fine.” Reluctantly you agree, it is cold out here after all and anyone could walk by, not that you’d mind the idea of getting caught..

Heeseung struggles to tear away from your mouth on the way back to the car, spending another extra 5 minutes with you pressed up to the door and his hands roaming freely under your shirt again. “If you don’t drive me home right now I am going to take off my clothes right here.”

“Okay okay.” He chuckles, running around after getting you inside and clicking your seatbelt. Heeseung mentally pats himself on the back for choosing a park not far from home, especially when you pull his right arm away from the steering wheel to guide him between your thighs.

“I’m so wet for you Hee.”

Practically crashing as he turns into your neighborhood, he coughs, squeezing your inner thigh and speedily parking to get out as fast as he can. “My room.”

Heeseung wraps your arms around his waist, a soft smile spreading across his lips as you both struggle to get up the stairs with your limbs locked around each other. “Your room because you wanna play DJ?”

He blushes, turning the doorknob behind his back and draw you into his bedroom. 

“That obvious?”

“You’re really cute.” You confess, bunching the sides of his shirt up in your fists to keep your bodies close. “Like really really cute.”

Heeseung’s cheeks could alert the fire department, burning up his face hot enough to make his eyes water up. “Ah, you think I’m lame.”

“I think you’re..” the two of you shuffle toward his bed, slowly lifting his top up to his waist. “Sexy..” 

He pulls it off the rest of the way for you, tossing the shirt aside, feeling shy even in the dim lighting entering from the window; breath caught in his throat as you duck to lick his chest, lips trapping one of his nipples with a gentle suck. Fingernails trail down his abdomen, grabbing onto the waistband of his jeans.

“No no..” taking a hold of your hands as you start to unzip him, he stammers taking in your mouth falling to a frown. “No! I mean, feels really good, but..”

Heeseung squeezes your hips, lifting you off your feet for less than a second to set you down on his bed. “Let me show you.”

Running a hand through his hair, he blushes furiously, positive you can feel the heat radiating off his face. He makes fast to the record player, dropping the needle in place to start the album he’d been listening to earlier, your favorite one.

Bending over your body, he bites down on his lips, softly pushing your shirt up your torso as the gentle hum of music reverberates around you.

Don’t wanna take it slow, I wanna take you home and watch the world explode from underneath your glow

Heeseung leaves your shirt just beneath your breasts, hovering over you to kiss along the top of your ribcage, following a path downward to your navel until his mouth meets the button of your shorts. The slow rise and fall of your chest calms his worry, unbuttoning you and easing your bottoms down to your ankles for you to kick away. He shifts down to his knees, prying your thighs open gently, allowing him a perfect view of your drenched through panties completely molded to your core.

“You’re sexy.” Perfect even, Heeseungs says to himself, planting kisses up the sensitive skin lining your inner thigh. “Cute, pretty, hot.” Kissing his way up, he takes extra time to suck on the tender skin where your thigh meets your center. “So so so sexy..”

A low whine sounds above him, your back arching upward the more he teases, tracing the dip between your center and shoving the material of your underwear into your entrance. “Hee!” 

“Shhh…” he licks the dip, tongue stiffening to push your underwear between your slit, tracing up to your clit to suck on through the soaked ruined fabric. Heeseung can’t take it anymore, innate hunger winning against his willpower as he holds your thighs open, planting them to spread out on his bed and drag his nose between the seam taking in a deep inhale. Slurping up the mess of wetness that seeps through the material of your underwear, most of it hitting his chin, trickling down onto the bed.

The groan vibrating against your core has your hips lifting, seeking a way to close your legs out of embarrassment that he could be smelling everything. “Hee, thats—“

Greedily sucking the rest of the wetness that’s smeared along the insides of your thighs, he has to shove aside how hard and painful his cock throbs. That can come later, figuratively and literally.

Playing with the trim lining the waistband of your underwear, he rubs the fabric between his fingers before rolling it down past your knees with practiced finesse; quickly clutching your thighs in a firm grip before you can manage to shut them, he pushes them down as wide as they’ll spread, fully exposing your core. 

Heeseung’s breath catches, nearly groaning at the up close visual of your swollen aroused cunt, dripping a lewd amount out all the way down to his bedding. “So pretty.” He blows, sending a tremor up your thighs. “Just as pretty down here as you are everywhere else.”

Leaning in before you can let out another shattered cry, he licks a thick stripe from your entrance up to your clit. Humming in the back of his throat as your arousal pours down to the back of his tongue. Velvety engorged folds spread out against the pressure of his wide tongue working back and forth to touch each crevice between your legs.

Heeseung can hear your breath quicken and grow louder, plunging into your pulsating wet hole with his nose rubbing against your clit. He groans, dizzy, drunk and brainless as he rubs his face back and forth. Lapping past the resistance of your muscle, he licks and sucks, collecting the wetness pouring from your dripping pussy to swallow down like water. The fingers reaching into his hair pull him to bury in deep, jaw stretching until he hears a crack. He grunts from the pulls on his scalp, slipping free from your cunt to lick up the sides, between your folds, outside and in until his tongue has tasted every inch. 

“Oh my God Hee!” Your feet kick, just barely under his unrelenting hold to keep you spread open. Dragging his tongue up and down repeatedly until a mess of slick covers him from chin to forehead. “S’too—too much, ah—“

His lips press to your clit, sucking the fat nub between his lips with extra force that has you biting down on your hand to not scream. “You’re—no, I’ll—I’ll cum!” Whining, you grow more impatient, unable to stop your hips from twitching up even under his large palms pressing you down. Heeseung could care less, 

lost in the scent and heat of your cunt, he sucks and licks your clit mercilessly, flicking the bud roughly with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh!” Your face squeezes tight, head pushing off from the bed, arching against his mouth giving you no rest. “I’m cumming—I’m cumming!” You chant, mouth hanging open without breathing as an intense orgasm rips through your body, choking on your breath and finally writhing free from Heeseung’s hold when he doesn’t stop; lapping at your freshly spilled entrance like a thirsty dog.

“E-enough.” You tremble, shutting your thighs and turning onto your side, shirt drifting up under your neck and armpits leaving you mostly bare.

Heeseung sits up on the bed, kissing up the side of your thigh to your hip. “Wouldn’t have stopped, you taste so good.”

Now it’s your turn to hide, tucking your face into one of his pillows with a whine. “Ahh, don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” The clink of his zipper lowering follows, turning back around to lay flat and remove your shirt just in time to see Heeseung kick away his pants and boxers, cock standing hard against his stomach; high enough for the head to hit his navel.

He’s big too. 

Biting your lip, you sit up to kiss him, making a face at the amount of slick still coating his chin. Heeseung had no plan to clean any of it off. 

He stares at you wide-eyed and breathless, leaning over you until you lay flat on your back again, brushing hair away from your face. Going in for the kiss first this time, he opens your mouth up with an aggressive push of his tongue; licking inside of your mouth similar to the way he ate you out, messy, greedily drinking the spit that escapes past your lips. More swollen and bitten raw once he settles against your chest and scoops the back of your thighs around his hips.

Leaving your knees bent to cage around him, Heeseung smooths a palm down between your breasts, down past your stomach to grab a hold around his length. He bites down, already covered in your arousal in less than a minute of your lower halves touching. “So wet.” Mumbling to himself, he delivers a few strokes to his length, spreading your slick down to the tip, not that you need the extra lubrication.

Heeseung’s hand trembles around the base of his cock, a reminder of how nervous he actually is as he drags the tip between your folds, dipping in and out of your entrance just enough to have your head spinning. Pawing at his chest to give you more as he teases and groans at how loud the sound of your wetness radiates; pushed in and out against the kisses meeting his cockhead.

“Hee, please, please fuck me.” You say, feeling delirious with each empty deceived clench from your body, chasing after the stretch only his cock can give you.

Finally pushing in past the tip, his chest lays flat against yours, stealing the gasped moan you let out with a fierce kiss. Burying in deeper until he meets obstruction and lets a broken cry inside of your warm wet mouth. 

“F-fuck me baby,” you moan, sucking his bottom lip in with hard bite. “Show me, show me.”

Heeseung’s forehead wrinkles, biting down and grinding his teeth to not whimper between short staggered breaths. He won’t last if he fucks you the way he really wants to. The way he needs to.

Nodding rapidly, he tries to memorize every squeeze that your soft wet wall's pulse around him. Wet, so insanely wet, pouring down to his balls, forming a mess between even his thighs. Heeseung lifts back with heavy eyes to watch your face fall apart, tongue lolled out with nothing behind your eyes but unruly lust. “Fuck me.”

He lets go, rolling his hips forward as hard and deep as you can take him.

“Oh fuckkk!” Heeseung gasps as you arch against him, slapping his chest with balled up fists. It’s better than either of you could have imagined, chasing a fast release off instinct alone while still holding back to make each sensation last longer.

“You’re so tight,” Heeseung says with a linger of pain in his tone. Taking a hold of your wrists, he pins them to your chest, gently shushing your cries. Slowly dragging his cock out halfway and back in to ease the stretch. “You okay?”

A choked moan passes through your lips, nodding fast. “S-so big.”

Kissing your chin, Heeseung nods and loosens his hold on your wrist, easing your hands to lay flat by your head. “Relax for me,” taking a deep breath, he pushes in to the hilt, lower back aching the more he holds himself back from fucking you in earnest and pounding you through his bed. “Can you do that for me?”

A faint ‘yes’ shudders out, losing your breath as he starts to drag his dick out, hissing with each reflexive clench you give him. Heeseung tries, he really tries to hold back, pushing through your heated resistance slowly, but with each glide back in a mess of slick wetness drips out past the intrusion of his size. The smear of wetness leaking down to his thighs in fat wads now, coating the back of your ass and thighs, making each collision of your meeting skin more debauched. 

Another squeeze around him has a broken cry ripping from his throat, moistening the backs of his eyes as he finally breaks and snaps forward to bury in balls deep, making you feel every inch. Heeseung rides through your clamped heat, thrusts turning erratic with his digits finding purchase in your wrist; painfully digging his nails into the soft skin hard enough to leave behind marks of crescent moons.

Rapid tightening pressure around his cock draws more effort on his part, planting his knees on the bed to fuck you with more strength behind his hips. Through the wet layer fogging his gaze he finds your eyes, blown wide with your mouth hung open pouring saliva from the corners. His heart jumps fiercely enough to make him fear it could erupt, ears gone numb to all other than the wanton sounds of your whimpers traced between the song playing.

No one else has a hold over me like you do

You open up the covers, you lure me in

Tackle me anxious, back into bed

Well, I hope to discover all of your ways

This place is death, I know you feel the same

He can’t stop the embarrassingly desperate noises that drip from his mouth as he fucks you with renewed urgency, pressing down until you are chest to chest to snake his hands under your ass and push your hips against his. The new angle gets him in even deeper somehow, nose scrunched up as a strong wave of heat runs rampant in his stomach, tightening up the heavy weight between his thighs. “C-close—I’m so so c-close.”

Struggling to keep up his thrusts the more you tighten up, Heeseung shifts, smoothing down the side of your thigh to wrap around the back of your knee and push your thigh up. The mind-numbing pleasured cry you let out has him fucking into you with abandon, desperate to get you off before he can finish. 

“Come on,” he grits, fingers digging into your leg, calve jostling by your head under the force of his weight pummeling against you. “C’mon baby.” He hits deep, the head of his length kissing your cervix, grinding with a low growling moan.

“P-plea—“ breaking off, your neck bends back, eyes meeting the back of your skull letting a silent cry fly free. Heeseung tries to fuck you through it, beginning to sweat down his face as he grips onto your leg harder and rams forward. 

“Fuckmefuckme,” you babble deliriously between whimpers, tears spilling down your cheeks. “W-want it, cum inside me, f-fuck—want it, want it!” You moan, half pained by over sensitivity the longer he goes, reaching to run your fingers through his hair in search of something to pull on.

Heeseung grunts, leaning in to lick the droplets of salty tears dangling from your chin, gone senseless beyond the addictive warmth sucked around his cock. “I-I’m—fuck!”

A handful of sloppy thrusts more has his balls clenching up, so heavy where they slap and land against the crevice of your ass. He curses, burying himself as deep as your body can take to spill inside. Cock thrumming madly with each shot of hot streaks of cum pouring out. “C-cumming” he gasps, mouth gone dry with spit covering his chin, slumping down onto you with a long sigh.

“Hee..” you cough, leg dropping from his weakened hold. “Can’t breathe.”

“Sorry sorry..” Heeseung bites his lip, pushing his upper half up on numbed arms, slowly drawing his hips back. “Ugh..” he has to look away as white creamy release chases after his length, cock throbbing from the sight of your needy hole gaping open and shut. “Sorry for that..”

“It’s okay.”

He reaches for your shirt before settling back next to you, eyes heavy with sleep and cheeks bunched up from a lazy smile.

“I should probably go to my room before my mom wakes up.” You say sadly, dragging a finger down his lips. “Don’t want to.”

“Don’t want you to.” Heeseung kisses, chasing after your finger with an open mouth. “We can just tell her the truth, that you slept in here.”

“The whole truth?”

“Well, no..” he says, capturing the tip of your finger to suck around, slowly sliding off with a wet pop. “She’d probably never let you out of the house again if she found out about..”

“Yeah..” you share a look, sighing sadly. “Try not to dream of me too much, lover boy.”

Stepping back into your underwear with a grimace, you throw your shorts into his hamper, winking at him and ordering that he wash them for you before you exit.

Heeseung can feel his cheeks itch with heat again, covering his eyes with a smile. How can he still feel shy after all of that..

“Goodnight.”

“Nighty.” You say, cheeks aching from smiling so much. 

“Well well well.” Sunghoon stands across the hallway as you do your best to quietly tiptoe your way out of Heeseung’s bedroom, jumping up and covering your mouth to not scream at his shadowy figure looming nearby. “What do we have here?”

“Hoon?” You say after a night of listening to Heeseung use the nickname over and over again. “What the hell are you doing out here? It’s like 3am.”

“I should ask you the same thing. What the hell are you doing sneaking out of my brother's bedroom in the middle of the night, huh?” Sunghoon steps into the small streak of light coming through the hallway window, jaw flexed tight. “I told you that I’d find out.”

“What? By standing out here with your ear pressed against the door like some creep? What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Don’t change the subject.” Sunghoon corners you, pushing your shoulders against the wall. “And keep your voice down, you’re lucky our parents room is on the other side of the house with those dying animal squeals you were screaming out.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“Anyway,” he traces down the side of your face, flinching away from his touch only for his hand to cup around your jaw and keep your eyes on him. “No more of this, I’ll let it go just this one time because you’re pretty dumb.”

“I don’t need to listen to anything you say.”

“Oh, but you do, don’t you?” He speaks softly, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “And you will.”

“Why? Because you’ll run and tell my mommy that you made me suck your dick for some test answers?” You sneer, slapping your palm on his forearm. 

“I’m giving you a warning.” Sunghoon pecks your upper lip and Cupid’s bow, leaving out any mention of why. Not because he likes you or anything, not Park Sunghoon. “Take it seriously or don’t. Either way you’ll learn to listen to me.”

Pressing a firm kiss to your lips, he lingers, pecking the top and bottom over and over again. “Hate to think you let him defile that pretty mouth, almost repulses me to kiss you right now.”

Sunghoon backs up, raising an eyebrow and grabbing onto your elbows. “Let’s get you washed up before you go to sleep at least, you smell like cum.”

“Hoon, stop!” You whisper, panicked as he leads you to his bedroom. “Where are you taking me!”

Sunghoon kicks his bedroom door open, maneuvering you to his personal bathroom. “You can’t be this stupid.”

“Let me go!” 

“Shut up.” He snarls, pushing you toward the shower door. “Get in there, and make sure you clean yourself good.”

“What the fuck is your problem?!” You whine, forced inside as he barricades the open glass door and leers at you, nodding his chin at your shirt. 

“Tick tock, I’m waiting.” Sunghoon eyes the shirt hanging on your frame, reaching for the collar to pull on. “Is this Heeseung’s?! You’re wearing his clothes now???”

“Let go! You’re stretching it!”

Ignoring you, he pulls more, not even fazed by the slaps you deliver as he reaches for the hem and pulls the material up over your face leaving you no choice but to let him take it off. He lets out a sound of disapproval, reaching for the sides of your underwear. “You didn’t seriously let that asshole bust a nut inside of you.”

“Stop!” 

Sunghoon growls, pushing himself inside the shower until your back meets the chilled tile wall with a shiver. “You’re more disgusting than I thought, when did you start fucking him? Before or after our parents got married.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer, turning the shower on with the water beating down on your head. “Can’t believe he fucked you before me.” He mutters, shoving your now completely soaked underwear down. “You probably think he’s so fucking nice, don’t you?”

Tears well up in your eyes before you can blink them away fast enough, slapping the heel of your palms on his drenched shirt. “You are the only asshole here.”

“You fucking like it.” Sunghoon smirks, uncapping a bottle of body wash to squirt on your chest. “Clean it all out, it’s bad enough I have to fuck you after he did.”

“What?!” He throws a brand new washcloth at you, stepping back to the door dripping water all over the bathroom floor, head snapping with command. 

“Hurry up, my dicks getting hard watching you act so helpless.” He winks, reaching for the shower head to aim between your thighs, focused on the remnants of thick white cum seeping out from between your clenched thighs. “You let him fuck your ass too?”

Sunghoon asks as you turn away from him to reach between your legs and push out the last bits of Heeseung’s cum, nose scrunched in disgust from his comment. Pinching your buttcheek, he laughs, moving back to discard his wet clothing into a dirty hamper. “I guess you weren’t lying about not being a virgin after all, shame.” Licking the backs of his teeth, he scoffs. “My dicks bigger than his anway.”

“I’m going to my room.” You say, turning off the shower after rinsing the soap off of your skin. “And you are going to leave me alone.”

Sunghoon lets out a slow fake laugh, dropping his pajama bottoms when you turn to look at him. The white bathroom background illuminating his porcelain complexion, defined muscles flexing as he reaches for the top of the shower door, showing off his bare naked body. “Am I now?”

“Why do you even want me?”

He hums, making slow movements to bring down his arms and circle the ring on his finger, leisurely sliding it off and setting the silver band down on the bathroom counter. “Why do you think?

“You can have anyone you want.”

“Exactly.” Sunghoon tips his chin in, fitting his gaze down your wet chest and stomach. “And I want you.” Stepping back into the shower, he moves forward, a smile growing on one side of his face with each step back you take until you hit the wall again, chest rising and falling more rapidly as he looks over your figure. “Hard to believe, right?”

Tapping your nose, his index finger drags down from there, tracing the outline of your lips to your chin and the center of your neck. “Heeseung and I have always shared a similar type though.”

The mention of his brother makes you flinch, stomach churning with guilt as his finger lowers and flicks your nipples, breathily laughing the more you twitch under his taunting touch. “Or maybe he just always wants what I have.”

“You don’t have me.” You seeth under your breath, turning away from his steely gaze. 

“Don’t I?” Continuing to trace, he circles your navel, smoothing the pathway lower to the heat between your thighs. “You want me to stop?”

Lack of response and eye contact pulls another laugh out of him, crawling his digits down past your mound to your upper thighs. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Lack of air clears your lungs, finding it impossible to breathe, shutting your eyes to ignore the guilt clawing through your chest from inside out. Sunghoon hums, sliding a knee between your thighs for access to your center. “Look at me.”

With a gulp, you blink, slowly lifting your gaze to find his eyes. Black large pupils stare back at you, ridden with lust and desire, he leans closer, mouth hovering yours. “Good girl.”

The middle of your chest caves, shoulders slumping in as he cups around your core and groans, lips pulled over his teeth. “Can’t say no when you’re already this wet.”

Sighing, you accept your fate knowing in the back of your mind that you could have tried harder to stop him, you should have tried harder to stop him…

Sunghoon’s eyes stay locked on yours, tickling lower until the tips of his fingers find your entrance and scoop up the embarrassing amount of slick that’s already begun to pour out. It’s only because his brother just fucked you, that’s what you say to convince yourself. 

His hand raises between your faces, mouth dropped open letting out a dramatic gasp. “Look at that, so fucking wet it’s dripping down to my wrist, you dirty little..” he breaks off into a grin, shoving the coated fingers to your lips and pushing inside for you to gag around. “Taste it, that’s all for me. That’s your body begging for me.”

It’s not your fault he’s right.. even as you choke and spit around his digits finding the way to the back of your throat, you can’t deny the spike of heat building from your lower belly. 

Sunghoon swipes his fingers clean of your wet arousal and spit over your chin and cheeks, further adding to how degrading he treats you. The way your heart hammers through your chest makes it hard to convince yourself that you hate it..

He lets out a throaty chuckle, licking the mess off your chin and biting down on your bottom lip. “You really are something.” A smug smile pulls at his lips, reaching up to move your wet hair behind your ears. “You even look pretty out of the shower, you know that?”

“..really?”

Sunghoon’s tongue prods between his lips, licking at one side proudly, eyebrows furrowing as what he just said settles. “Yeah..” stifling his breath, he backs away with a fake cough, stepping out uncomfortably. “I’m not going to fuck you in the shower though.”

Silence hangs between the two of you for a minute, telling yourself you could still try to leave… you could..

He backs up to the door, grabbing onto the sides halfway out of the bathroom into his bedroom, full eyebrows raised at you before turning away.

He’s right, you are stupid.

Sunghoon’s standing with his back faced toward you, waiting for you to make the next move. Reaching for his shoulder, you gingerly lay your hand down, already short of breath. “Hoon..”

“You want it?” He asks, voice deep, carrying a hint of a smile in his tone. 

“Yes..”

Turning to you fast he pushes you to the wall, breath knocked out as his palms circle your waist. “What do I get out of it? Your used up pussy?”

“You get to fuck me.” Your mouth goes dry, lip shaking half from nerves, half out of anger. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“I can fuck you regardless.” Amusement carries in his voice, sliding one hand to your throat. “Better than he can too, wanna find out?”

With burning cheeks you duck your face in, tongue heavy in your mouth keeping your lips shut tight. “You really like him, huh?” He huffs, cursing under his breath. “That’s fine. I can change that.”

Sunghoon squats down, arms curling under your thighs to lift your feet off the floor, a cocky smile stretching across his face as he catches your shocked gasp. Propping your back against the wall, his teeth grit, hoisting your weight into his hold with added renewed strength, more determined to fuck your brain into nothing but a puddle of liquid. “Because believe me, he’ll never fuck you like this.”

His arms slide behind your knees getting a firm grip on your hips, cock dragging between your folds. “God, you’re so wet.” He sucks in a sharp breath, knees bending to get the head of his cock lined up with your hole. “Get this wet just from me being mean to you or what?” 

His teeth grind, still managing to breathe a chuckle through his exertion. “Just wanna get fucked? Doesn’t matter if I put it in your throat or pussy, probably even let me fuck your ass right now wouldn’t you?”

“N-no..”

The tip of his cock tugs at the muscle of your entrance, prodding no more than the slit in, arousal jolting through you with each teasing pass. It takes a second between your chest tightening and stomach flipping over to realize Sunghoon’s palms have lowered, landing a stinging slap to cup your ass; slowly dragging your back upwards on the wall to allow for his cock to fully enter inside in one fell swoop.

“What was that?!” He growls, cock throbbing.

“Yes!” You breathe in, eyes rolling back, chest heaving up and down. “Please—fuck me, a-ah, fuck me!”

and Sunghoon listens, thrusting forward with a firm grind, cock fully sheathed rearranging your insides. “That’s right. Want me to fuck your pussy real good? Want me to fuck that pussy the way it deserves to be fucked?” He spits, eyes ablaze with a crazed want, need to release. The stretch from his cock still manages to burn and sting, unable to lock your legs around him from the position he holds you in, full control over your body left to his arms flexed around you; pushing past the clenched up fight of muscle wrapped around him.

“God so fucking good.” His hips pull back, snapping forward at a maddening pace; rocking into your heat hard and rough, enough to make it hurt. “Such a good girl.”

Shivers rock up your spine, powerless to his strength over you as you weakly grip onto his shoulders for balance and security out of fear of falling. “Hoonie..”

He groans, head tipping back listening to your muffled broken moans, the call of his name shooting straight to his cock. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you.” He stammers, sweat collecting on his brow bone the more he exerts, hips unrelenting with each skin-slapping piston he delivers. “Don’t even know how fucking good you are.”

The veins lining Sunghoon’s neck pulsate violently, picking up his pace even more, balls slapping loudly throughout his bedroom with every thrust. The sound of wetness gushing between your bodies drills fear in your chest, loud enough that anyone passing by outside would be able to pick up easily on. “H-hoon… I’m—cum, I’ll c-cum..” you try to say clearly, on the verge of bursting around the unforgiving slam of his length.

“Fucking cum then! cum around my cock.” He doesn’t slow down, gaze focused carefully on watching the juncture where his dick disappears past your pulsating dripping wet cunt. Sucking in another sharp breath, he slaps your ass again. “Cum.”

That sends you flying over the edge, groaning out loud, arms gone limp over his shoulders; whole body jerking back against the wall from the overstimulation. Sunghoon fucks into you roughly as your release drenches past his cock, clapping the wet mess from his thighs to your ass, and it hurts, shocking your neck ramrod straight with wide eyes. “No—h-hurts!”

“Did I fucking cum yet?” He says between clenched teeth, dropping your jelly-like limp legs from his arms, punctuating the question with a particularly rough thrust. Breathing out harshly, he looks animalistic, wild eyes glaring at you before ripping your shoulder from the wall to slam you against it on your front; chest hitting hard stealing a gasp of breath from your lungs.

“I say when we are done.” He says, splitting your ass open to push his length back in. “You asked to get fucked, so you’re going to get fucked.”

Sunghoon groans, fingertips finding your hips to bury into, thrusting too hard and fast for you to fully enjoy. Round after round between the two brothers finally taking it out of you, whimpering in over sensitivity as he hits deep inside of you and rips another orgasm out of you, much weaker than the last. “Oh that’s so good,” he grunts, fucking into you harder. “The way your pussy sucks around me just like that.”

He keeps at it, muttering about how good your cunt feels the tighter you get. “I’d never fuck my girlfriend like this.” Sunghoon breathes into your ear, eyelashes fluttering wildly at the way you grip around him, and then he’s cumming. Cock buried deep inside, pumping out drop after drop of his release between breathless groans. “Fuck.”

Sighing, he drops flat against you kissing your sweaty nape.

“Now you’re going to listen to me once and for all.” He thrusts again, pushing out his cum with each backstroke. “And end this shit with my brother, or else I swear..” biting the shell of your ear he pants heavily, licking down to your earlobe. “I’ll make sure you both regret it. Don’t want that, do you?”

Layering kisses down your cheek, he bites your jaw down to your chin, burying inside to the hilt again. “Be a good girl.”

“Fuck off.” You mumble, more than past sensitivity between your thighs. Emptied and exhausted you fall back, slapping his forearm around your waist weakly. “No more.”

“Be quiet.” He grunts, turning you both around and throwing you down on his bed on your stomach, mounting your hips to line his cock back up to your hole. “And take it.” 

Sunghoon’s an idiot.

At least that’s what you can’t help to think as he stomps into the kitchen and lets out an overdramatic wheeze at the sight of you squished against his brother’s side at the kitchen island.

“Well.” Popping his lips, he tucks them in, dimples pinching deep holes into his cheek. “Aren’t the two of you up early.” He says, eyes laser focused on you. “Did you even sleep?”

Heeseung stiffens up, swiping away from one of the videos he recorded during the concert; locking his phone and moving to stand.

“Hee, where are you going?”

Sunghoon scoffs, opening the fridge up aggressively in search of a protein shake, mouthing ‘HEE?!’ where he faces away from you.

“Uhm,” Heeseung scratches his neck, quickly glancing at his brother and then back at you. “Back to my room.”

“You have fun in there.” Sunghoon interrupts, mixing his pre-workout. “You.” Snapping his fingers in your face, he melts you in place with a sleek angry glare. “Tutoring in an hour, your professor emailed again and you have a test this week.”

“Yeah no.” Getting up to follow behind Heeseung, you flip Sunghoon off on your way out. “Can’t meet with you today, sorry! Don’t worry though, I’ll find a way to get some studying done.”

Sunghoon crushes the now emptied protein shake carton in his grip, stopping himself from running after you to drag you to his room by your hair. “What a little..”

Brushing off your attitude, he swipes open his phone to open up a chat with your mother to inform her of your negligence; emphasizing how worried he is over you passing this class, adding in that at this rate you will without a doubt fail.

He response comes in shortly, thanking him more than once for putting up with you. ‘She won’t be wasting any more of your time, I’ll be sure to cut off her subscriptions if she tries to pull this. Please give her one more chance Hoonie, you sweet darling boy❤️’

Smirking, he pockets his phone, counting down his fingers for the sound of your scream after the telltale ring of your cell phone carries from upstairs.

“What?! Mom! No!” 

Feisty. Sunghoon laughs to himself, pleased on his way back to his bedroom only to be stopped by your figure running toward him.

“What is your problem!” You hiss, lightly shoving his shoulder. “You seriously fucking called my mom to snitch on me?”

“No,” Sunghoon pouts innocently, breaking into a smile. “I texted.”

Practically foaming at the mouth, you grab him by the shirt, pulling him toward your bedroom. “Listen to me asshole!” You shriek, using all of your strength to push him inside of your room, kicking the door shut behind you. “How many times do I need to tell you to leave me alone?!”

Sunghoon smiles, shrugging as he begins to look around your room. “You’re kind of turning me on, try saying it again.”

“Sunghoon!” Charging at him, you throw your body forward at his chest, knocking him back enough for his ass to plant on your bed, surprise drawing his eyebrows up his forehead.

“What happened to.. what was it again?” Snapping his fingers, he taps his chin, eyes widening. “Oh right! Hoon! Hoonie!!!” He drags out, moaning in a high pitched tone.

“Last night was a one time thing.”

“Sure,” Sunghoon leans back on his palms, biting a smile away as he eyes you. “Sucks that you left me to wake up alone though..”

Coiled heat spirals through your gut, forcing yourself to look away. “I don’t need to get in trouble because of your ass on top of everything, luckily for me I managed to wake up after you fucked me until I passed out. Asshole.”

“You liked it,” he smirks, sitting up to rub up and down the sides of your thighs. “Just like you like this…this rough-housing between us, the hot banter and childish little arguments.”

“You’re delusional, I don’t like any of this.”

Sunghoon pouts, pulling you to stand between his parted thighs and hug around your hips with his chin perched on your stomach. “You don’t like me?”

Heeseung clears his throat from your bedroom door, too caught up with his younger brother to even think that he’d come looking for you after bursting out of his room to ‘kill Sunghoon’.

“Sorry,” he says, beginning to back up. “Didn’t know you were busy.”

“Hee! No!”

Sunghoon stands up fast, pulling you into a full body hug so that you can’t turn around and chase after his brother. “Yeah Hee, we’re busy, scram.”

The older nods, slowly pulling the door shut with a broken expression. “Heeseung please!” You scream as a last stitch of effort. “Please! Don’t leave!!”

Sunghoon sighs, rolling his eyes and shoving you away. “Fine, let’s settle this shit right now.”

Heeseung pauses, eyes wide and alert bouncing back and forth between the two of you, the panic in your gaze pulling him inside like an invisible string to come in. “Settle what?”

“This.” Sunghoon repeats brazenly, motioning between the three of you. “You’re fucking her, I’m fucking her, better too.”

Heeseung scoffs, shaking his head.

“And I don’t like that.” Sunghoon continues. “So, what are we going to do about this? Big brother.” He carps, managing to make the title come across as an insult. 

“Sunghoon, stop this!” You intervene, getting between them. “What about your girlfriend?!”

“Yeah Hoonie.” Heeseung says from behind you, moving closer until his chest meets your back. “You think Miyeon would love to know about how you cheat on her every other weekend with random sluts you meet at parties?”

Sunghoon shakes his head with a smug sneer, eyes rolling between an anxious blink. “And you Heeseung? Should I tell dad about your weekend adventures? The real reason you’re flunking out of uni? The truth behind why you’re such a fucking failure?”

Heeseung stiffens behind you, clutching at your shirt by your lower back. “Hee?”

“It’s not what you think Hoon..”

“What? So I just made up all those times I’ve had to watch you embarrass yourself, stumbling out of parties high and drunk off your ass?” Sunghoon huffs a cruel laugh. “Real nice, how you’d clearly rather fuck up your head than evolve, better yourself and try to not be such a low life prick.”

“Enough!” You interrupt, sensing the tension radiating off Heeseung’s body. “God.”

Taking a deep breath, you have to pause, remembering that you have only heard one side of this story…

“I’m doing better..” Heeseung whispers behind you, the bottom half of his face buried in his chest to hide. “Haven’t been going out the way I used to, I know I need to stop Hoon. I’m trying..”

“Oh Hee..” you turn, slinking your arms around his waist. 

“Ugh.” Sunghoon pretends to gag. “Bullshit! Trying my ass! You’ve never tried to fix anything!”

Heeseung frowns, slumping in your hold, eyes falling shut. “I don’t know what else you want from me, Hoonie.”

“I want you to get the fuck up off my gi—“ Sunghoon catches his breath, pausing and stepping back, lips twitching furiously. “Fuck.” He turns, hands set on hips visibly shaking from the rage coursing through his body.

“You can’t just..” you start, chewing on your bottom lip, weighing if you’re overstepping boundaries too much. “Talk?”

Heeseung trembles, clearly living in some fear of his brother. A similar cycle to the one you’ve found yourself racing through..

“No!” Sunghoon snaps, twisting back around to face the two of you, features tight and full of anger. “I have nothing to say to him.”

Heeseung nods, rubbing down your back reassuringly. “It’s okay, I have a lot to explain to make this fair.”

“It’s okay Hee, really..”

Sunghoon sneers, muttering under his breath about how repulsive this is, regretting his need for confrontation. 

“No no,” Heeseung continues. “Hoonie’s right, I’m a fuck up.. fucked up our relationship, fucked up my education. I fucked up my life, I know.” He reiterates, nodding and agreeing with Sunghoon. “I should have been there for you back then Hoon..”

The younger flinches, tearing his gaze away, jaw twitching. “Don’t bother, you’re too late.”

“Come on Sunghoon..” you say shakily, reaching for his hand, only for him to snatch it away. Taking a few steps back to create distance between you.

“Yeah..” Heeseung swallows, throat dry as tears gather at his waterline. “I know, but you’ll always be my little brother, and if you ever need me.. I’m here for you.”

“No you’re not.” Sunghoon sucks between his teeth, licking his lips and rubbing his eyes frustrated, using the fast action to clear away moisture. “If you’re serious then leave her alone, let me have this for once.”

“Hee, no, do not listen to him!” You speak up, glaring at the younger. “I’m not some fucking conquest Sunghoon, I’m a person, not a trophy to hold over your brothers head just because you have bad blood.”

“I didn’t say that.” Sunghoon snaps at you, baring his teeth. “Why are you even getting involved?! You’re just making this worse!” 

“Hoon, come on dude.” Heeseung moves in front of you, shielding you as if his brother would do something that would require that.

Sunghoon’s eyes bulge, bloodshot with his temper skyrocketing, pushing up to his brother nose to nose, a spark of pride roaring through his chest at the lack of difference in their height. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Heeseung’s gaze lowers, running his tongue along the backs of his teeth nervously. “Nothing man, nothing.” Holding his hands up defenseless, he turns toward you, face drained of energy. “Sorry about all of this.”

“It’s okay baby,“ you console, burying your face in his chest, arms seeking his waist to squeeze around tightly until he gasps for a breath and breaks into a smile. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”

“I can’t believe this.” Sunghoon barks, gaining your attention again.

“Hoon, listen..” without releasing Heeseung, you turn to face him, lip tweaking down slightly. “It’s not personal, but I like your bro—“

“Enough!” He shouts, stomping toward the door. Refusing to hear that for the second time in his life, one unforgettable heartbreak was enough already.

Sighing, you return to rubbing your face in Heeseung’s warm embrace, releasing the built up stress and negative energy circulating around you. Big hands soothe down your spine, setting soft barely there kisses on your forehead, mumbling under his breath. “Thank you.“

Sunghoon backs out quietly, blinking away the itch behind his eyes. Typical of his brother to never let him have anything, even the last days with their mother when he selfishly pushed his younger brother away and told him to stay in his room. Fucking asshole could never be there for him the way a normal sibling should be. Heeseung never once chose him over a woman, not their mom, not you, and not her.

He nods to himself, clicking the door shut behind him with his jaw set tight. It’d be too easy to walk away now, accept defeat, allow for Heeseung to kick dirt in his face once again… 

But Sunghoon has never liked taking the easy route.

“Did you honestly think that was it?” Sunghoon leans against your bedroom door, stepping in and kicking it shut behind him, startling you as he makes his way in with a venomous glare laser focused on you. “Think I give up that easily?”

“Get out of my room!” You hurriedly whisper, getting up to push him back to the door. “What the hell is your problem!? Why do you keep showing up?!”

“You. Him. You’re both my problem.” Sunghoon sneers, taking a hold of your wrists to pin them down by your sides and press your back flush against the door. 

“There’s nothing to give up!” Continuing to hiss, you thrust your weight forward, barely shifting his figure back enough to take a deep breath and lighten him off your torso. “You. Have. A. Girlfriend.”

“Semantics.” Rolling his eyes, Sunghoon waves off your annoyance. “A girlfriend, what’s a girlfriend to you anyway? The girl you met, shook hands with, and then proceeded to fuck her boyfriend anyway?”

“You!” Huffing, you beat his chest, using your strength to shove. “You know why!”

“Oh, because we made a fair trade? Your grades improve and I get in a nut once in a while.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Big fucking deal.”

“It is a big fucking deal you prick.”

“It wasn’t, until you did exactly what I told you not to do and fucked my brother.” He glares at you, forehead wrinkling at the mention of Heeseung. “The one thing I fucking asked of you, and now here you are, in love or some shit.” He says, hands raised to make quotations with a disgusted leer tugging his face down.

“You never told me to not..” sighing, you slump against the door, head aching as you wonder how this could possibly be your life. “Why do you even care?! I don’t get it.”

“You wouldn’t.” Stepping back, he saunters to your pinboard of clippings from magazines, quotes and poems about different parts of Europe you’ve dreamed of every summer. “But maybe you will, eventually.”

Sunghoon traces one of the phones of a couple skiing through the Swiss Alps, scoffing under his breath at the idea of you and his brother venturing off together on some romantic getaway. Chuckling under his breath he rips off the photo of the Venice Canals, turning back to face you.

“I’ll be sure to have my father’s assistant only book the best accommodations for us.” Sunghoon grins cockily, placing his hand along the side of your neck. “Five stars only, my princess deserves the best.”

“What?” You sneer, slapping his arm away. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Our dream summer vacation.” He says dumbfounded, mouth hung open offended that you dare to forget. “The one you’ve been working your ass off to better your grades for.”

“Hoon, what—“

“Because you don’t really believe you can just run off to Europe easypeasy after fucking not only one, but both of your step-brothers?!” Sunghoon gasps, grabbing at his chest dramatically. “What would your mother say?! Man, with how strict she is, she’d probably ship your ass off to live on your grandmother's farm in the middle of nowhere. At least that’s what she said over dinner that one time with Miyeon..”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t?” He smiles, batting his eyelashes innocently. “Can you be so sure?”

“But why?” You ask desperately, head beginning to throb from this back and forth.

Sunghoon shrugs sarcastically, eyes bulging out to mock you with an expression that flat out says ‘are you stupid?’. 

“Summer in Europe.” He opens up your door, peering over his shoulder with a dazzling sharp grin. “Can’t wait.

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so incredibly well written and well researched. I loved reading your thoughts on isohel as well, and I ADORE how passionate you are about it.

joshua was so well written too, I just wish we had a little conclusion with advisor lee and the reader's mom...but it was so good

ミღ isohel — h. joshua x reader

i·so·hel (noun) a line on a map connecting points having the same duration of sunshine

description. fairytales can be rather misleading, can't they? when you and your mother are ripped away from your life at the castle, you spend over a decade resenting the royalty. so naturally, when you find prince joshua at your doorstep, you’re more than eager to shut the door on him. but as your life takes twists and turns, you happen to find yourself in the arms of a man you never thought you'd have to see again.

↳ genre. slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff ↳ tags. prince!joshua, developing relationships, slut shaming, allusions / references to greek mythology, dialogue heavy, implied sex ↳ fic playlist ↳ w/c. 26.2k ↳ a/n. lwk don't like the beginning but i swear it gets better🙄 thank u @cheolhub for beta reading & @jeonghantis & @gyuswhore for reading it over and helping out w this bc i think i was going insane over this story by myself >_< ... i highly suggest listening to the song isohel by eden! it was a major inspiration for this whole story and i think it encapsulates the vibes really well c: hope u enjoy!

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears.

It’s common in the sweltering heat of the summer when the air is hot and sticky. Maids running around to tend to the evenings balls and parties only for the sweat to breach their fingers and suddenly their stack of fine china goes tumbling to the ground.

A bed of hyacinths sits in front of you as you bring up the hose and spray them down, watching through the tinted glass as two male helpers rush to the woman on the ground, quickly helping her clean up the shards of glass.

Turning your attention back to the plants in front of you, you turn the hose off and roll it back into the corner as you skip to the end of the greenhouse where there’s your mother’s desk space. It’s a measly little space but she hardly sits there anyways, always tending to the gardens in the courtyards, leaving the floral and herbal greenhouses under your care while she’s away.

After all, your mother is a gardener and botanist in the Hong palace, and having been a trusted employee for the past half decade since your father passed, she exudes the little privileges of getting to bring her daughter to work.

At least that’s what you think, because you’re only nine years old and naive.

She teaches you well—you’ve only been accompanying her on the weekends when you don’t have school, but you’ve already picked up on how to tell the differences between an infected plant and an unaffected one, the characteristics of a good caterpillar and the characteristics of a bad one, the exact amount you should water each species, and exactly when you should let the vapor run down.

It’s easy work, and you love it.

You love sitting at your mother’s desk and imagining what it’d be like to be her—successful and working in the castle, doing what you love instead of working some stupid nine to five. You love looking out the glass of the greenhouses every few moments when you pause reading your book. You love the rare moments when you get to lay your eyes on one of the members of the royal family walking by.

You’ve started to pick up on their characters in the small frame of time you get to see them when they pass by. The Queen has kind eyes, the King is a bit intimidating, and Prince Joshua … Prince Joshua has soft features you can’t quite read.

“He’s only a year older than you!” one of your friends from school said when you told her that you stayed at the castle during the weekends to help your mother. “You should marry him and become princess!”

You had to push her away and watch her disappointed eyes when you told her that you hardly get to see him for more than ten seconds, even on the rare occasions that he crosses your vision.

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears, but hearing it more than twice in one hour does have some alarms ringing in your head. When you glance back up at the window, time stops.

Your mother is on the ground. Limbs sprawled out with eyes wide in horror, she scrambles against the rough stone path as a man looms over her. He dons a deep purple robe—the kind that belongs to the advisors of the Court—and your young mind races through the possibilities of what warrants the disgusted look on his face.

“Sneaking around with royal blood. Who do you think you are?”

A man watches, dark and brooding from the corner, and then you recognize him. Advisor Lee. He stops by the greenhouses sometimes—a high advisor of the Counsel and distance relative of the King’s. You’re nine years old and naive, but you are not dense.

Something had happened between your mother and Advisor Lee. Something tells you it’s more than you can understand, but in this moment, you feel you understand perfectly.

“You whore,” the man in the dark robes spits out, punctuating his disgust with a stomp of his feet right by your mother’s leg.

You’re only nine years old, but that is old enough to know that that is not a nice word. Nine years old, and you know that that means a very bad thing. Nine years old and when you look at your mother’s grief stricken face, you are certain that everything is about to change.

Your house was always on the edge of the town. Before the affair between Advisor Lee and your mother, it was because she liked having the space to open a garden in your backyard. The city is crowded and full of bustling roads and buildings—it’s no fit for the small cottage that she wanted.

Now, after the affair, your house is on the edge of the town for a different reason.

The first day after your mother is fired from her position at the castle, you go to school with your head hanging low. It’s in the city, and for the first time in your five years of schooling, your mother tells you to go alone.

“I can’t—I shouldn’t drive you anymore,” she tells you as you pack your backpack. She walks you to the bus station and hands you a paper telling you which stop to get off at and how to walk to school from there.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you two walk up to the little stop by the street, but when you approach the small crowd of people waiting for the next bus to come in, their chatter hushes. Sparing glances at you and your mother, they whisper—some hushed, some blatant, some sad, some angry.

That’s where she stops and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. “You can take it from here, yeah?” she asks, but you know it’s not really a question. Nodding, you slowly walk towards the crowd of people as the next bus parks in front of the stop.

You don’t turn around and look at your mother because you know that’d be a mistake. Instead, you let your neck droop, following the quiet crowd as they pile into the bus, clutching the strings of your backpack.

There aren’t any places to sit, so you reach for a pole but suddenly the bus starts and you lurch forward, falling to the ground. There’s black and brown dust on the palms of your hand as you push yourself up, no one saying a word or bothering to help as you keep your head down and grip onto a pole.

The knees of your stockings are dirtied, and it’s the only thing you look at the whole ride, it’s the only thing you look at when you silently take the walk to school, and it’s the only thing you look at when you make your way onto campus.

It’s the whispers again, and as you quietly sink into your normal seat, you hear them louder.

Did you hear about her mother? She isn’t allowed in the castle grounds anymore. What did her mother do? I can’t believe she showed up, I’d be crying at home. I wonder what she’s thinking—

Nothing. You think nothing when your teacher announces that class will be starting. All you focus on is the board and your notebook. You spend your recess and lunch at the school’s library, and as soon as the final bell rings, you scurry off campus and towards the bus station.

It isn’t like the morning—people don’t hush and stare, but nine years old is smart enough to know that it’s because they don’t know you’re your mother’s daughter. There aren’t any empty seats just like the morning but this time, a nice gentleman offers you his spot.

You can tell he isn’t so sure of his decision though, when you finally get off at your stop and you run off to your mother who’s waiting for you by the bench. From the corner of your vision, you watch the man through the bus window, jaw tight and gaze cold as he watches you slip your hand into your mother’s.

Your mother doesn’t talk on the short walk home. She doesn’t ask you about school and she doesn’t ask you about what the other kids said. You figure that she doesn’t need to hear it anyways, and so you purse your lips together.

You have a lot to get used to.

Your life doesn’t change much, and you get used to it.

School days are spent with your head buried in a new book with every break you have. Your time at home is nothing but studying and your mother teaching you how to tend to the garden in your yard.

Soon you are graduating and moving on with your life as you make the transition to college, although you can’t say much changes. You study, you read, and occasionally you commission a project. It’s usually just renovating a citizen’s yard, sometimes it’s designing a public garden, but it’s never anything too serious.

Right now, you’re perched on a wooden stool, elbows leaning on the counter as you swipe your thumb over your tongue to flip the next page of your book. The paper is worn through, soft under your touch as a show for all it’s been through—bought second hand from your boss.

Your boss is a kind old man who happened to be a friend of your late grandfather’s, and when his little bookstore was teetering on the edge of being forgotten, you couldn’t refuse the offer to step in to work.

You’re around halfway through the book when you hear the familiar ringing of the bell above the door, head snapping up only to see your boss at the front door with a few envelopes in one hand, a plastic bag in the other.

“Holding up the fort, I see,” he greets with a low chuckle as you stand up and walk over, taking the bag from his hand to help out.

“As always, Mr. Min,” you reply, setting the bag of books down on the counter. “Are these—”

“They’re your mothers. I was walking by your house this morning and she asked me to take these and add them to our stock, since she said she doesn’t need them anymore.”

“Huh,” you say softly, taking out the various books about plants. “Not sure how big the market for gardening books is anymore, but I’m sure I can add it to our catalog after hours today,” you mutter, setting them on the table behind the register as he places the letters in his hand.

“Your mother also told me to give you this,” he says, his tone an octave lower as he plucks out one the envelopes and hands it to you. You knit your eyebrows together, wiping your dusty hands down on your pants before taking a look at it. “It’s from—”

“The castle,” you whisper, holding the envelope closer to your face to make sure you’re seeing it correctly. “Oh my god—it’s from the castle.”

“Yeah. Must be important if your mom felt the need to send it through me instead of just waiting for you to come home and take a look at it.”

“A-are you sure this is meant for me?” you manage to ask, flipping the envelope over a few times to make sure you read your name correctly.

“Yup,” Mr. Min replies, pointing down at where the intended recipient is listed. Sure enough, it’s your name listed in dark and bold ink in one corner, and then there’s that stupid royal emblem of the sun in the other corner.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at the possibilities of what could be inside, raking your mind for an answer. Was something wrong? Was it about your mother? Or was this just some big mistake?

Dear Madam,

The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.

Your reputation with your mother’s work as well as the operation of your own gardens throughout the city, along with your academic achievements at our very own Hong University have reached our ears, and we believe you possess the skills required for a special project we have in mind.

You will have the opportunity to lead this project as you please and earn a notable financial sum in payment for your efforts.

Please indicate your acceptance by replying to this letter at your earliest convenience. We eagerly await your response and sincerely hope that you will be able to grace our kingdom with your talent and presence.

Thank you,

Hong Royal Counsel

You don’t have to read the letter more than once before you scoff, tossing the crisp paper and letting it drift down onto the counter before muttering under your breath, “Who do they think they are?” Crumpling the envelope and letter up, you throw it down into the trash can by your chair.

Knocks on your door aren’t normal. The delivery and mailmen know better than to do that, leaving your packages and mail by the doorstep and doing no more than that.

Knocks on your door usually mean Mr. Min is here for something—picking up some of the veggies your mother grew because the store prices are too high, dropping off a book, or indulging in some pleasantries and casual small talk.

It’s eight in the morning when you hear the soft rapping against your front door. Your mom is in the kitchen and your room, right next to the foyer, has walls thin enough to let the sounds through. You’re on your bed though, and it’s comfortable, warm, and it’s too early to be out and about anyways. You’ve just spent the past nine months laboring away at college, so you’re granting yourself these few moments of peace in the morning.

Pressing your head into the pillow, you try to drown out the noise of your mother conversing with Mr. Min this early in the morning. After you hear the door open, there’s a silence and for a moment, you think you’ve succeeded in plugging your ears well enough.

You’re about to smile to yourself and drift back into a heavy sleep before you hear a loud gasp.

It takes a lot to surprise your mother—you’ve come to learn that in recent years. It takes a lot to stun her, to have her gasp as you just heard. Scurrying out of bed, you press your ear against the wall in hopes to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

All you hear is silence.

It hardly takes a second for you to shove off your blankets and throw yourself into the hallway, rushing towards the foyer where you see your mother standing in front of the open door. She stays unmoving and you wince for a few moments, eyes still adjusting to the morning light as you make your way closer to the door to see what exactly has her so shocked.

And then you catch it: a glint of that wretched, golden sun emblem stitched onto a purple velvet coat.

“What the f—”

Your mother’s hand flies up and grabs your wrist tightly. It’s the first time you see her move, and as she turns around to face you with dark, warning eyes, you press your lips shut as you glance over her shoulder. In front of your doorstep is a man you never thought you’d get to see in person again, not after that day.

Prince Joshua is just as handsome as the tabloids and social media make him out to be, and his presence in your life also seems to be equally infuriating.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss, pulling your mother closer to you so she’s close enough to hear you.

Her eyes are somber, and you silently wonder how she can be so calm, so docile, so—so tame. “They’re here for you,” she whispers, turning her whole body so her back faces the prince.

“What are you talking about? Why would—”

“The letter sent to you from the kingdom. I thought you told me it was a mistake.”

“It was,” you mutter, eyes glancing at Prince Joshua behind her. His gaze is averted, presumably out of respect for the conversation you’re having with your mother right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to appreciate him for it.

“Then why is he asking for your name?”

You gulp anxiously, eyes flickering between your mother’s eyes and the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to him. It must be important,” she orders, walking forward and toward the kitchen and you grab her shoulder quickly.

“Are you kidding me? Why—why would I talk to him? Why would I talk to any of them?” you argue louder than you intended, and your mother swats your hand away sharply.

“They’re royalty,” she says, voice strained with caution.

“And? It’s not medieval times where they actually rule over us so—”

Your mother sighs heavily and then it hits you that no matter how much logic you try to expend, it’d be futile. “Talk to him. It isn’t quite like you have a choice.”

“You of all people shouldn’t put up with this,” you state and the second the words leave your lips, you regret it. Her face hardens and there’s a cold feeling that sinks in your stomach as she frees herself of your grasp and marches away.

You’re left watching her back fade into the rest of your house as your eyes are wide and you’re becoming increasingly aware of the presence of another person behind you. A person who is very important and very famous and very much a representation of all the things you loathe.

Turning on your heel, you don’t bother to push your lips up into a morning grin facing Prince Joshua with tired eyes and frown etched into your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you glance back at your mother who is in a far off room, deciding that whatever he needs to say to you, she doesn’t need to hear.

Slipping on some slippers, you quickly walk out of the house and close the door behind you, putting you right in front of Prince Joshua who waits for you with bright eyes.

“Hi,” he greets, voice airy and light as he takes a few steps back so he can bow, of which you begrudgingly return. “Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, I was just taking care of some work in the area and was told to stop by and talk to you about something.”

He sounds sincere, and his lips curve into a pleasant expression when he speaks, and you wonder if he’s plain stupid playing dumb to save you the humiliation of the situation—a royal prince speaking to the daughter of ‘a slut who seduced the royal advisor.’

So unable to decipher anything about his true intentions, you ask bluntly, “Is it about the letter I got from the kingdom two weeks ago?”

Prince Joshua chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and you catch the fancy white fabric of his buttoned up shirt underneath the coat. “I mean, yes it is and—”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why do you guys even bother sending letters? It’s the 21st century, you know? Emails exist.”

His face reddens, looking away before pursing his lips together. “Some things are just kept out of tradition,” Prince Joshua reasons quickly. “But I totally understand that, we’ll keep emailing in mind. But for the meantime, that’s, uh, kind of what I’m here for. We didn’t hear back a response, and I would like to take your answer back to the castle for you.

“Isn’t no response enough of a response?”

“Well—”

“My answer is no, if that wasn’t obvious,” you say, turning back to the door. “Is that all?”

“Wait!” he exclaims, grabbing your arm with his white leather gloves. It’s a bit surprising, really—he seems awfully timid for a prince and you’re a bit unnerved by how he hasn’t reprimanded you yet for being disrespectful. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to take on the job? If there are some specifics, maybe we can adjust the arrangement so it’s more to your liking.”

Your eyes widen, bewildered. “What? No I—I don’t care for anything like that, I won’t take the job.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” he mutters under his breath before his eyebrows knit together as he looks at the ground, seemingly trying to figure something out. “Is it the money? We can negotiate your salary,” he offers and you shake your head.

“No, it’s not the money—I don’t care about the money,” you say harshly. “It’s not any of that, I just don’t want to.”

“Can you tell me why? It’s just, I’ll have to report this back to the Counsel and if I’m not able to recruit you, they’d at least want some reasoning for why.”

Inhaling sharply, it takes all your self control to not let your eye twitch and slam the door in his face. “Are you really asking me why I don’t want to?” Pursing your lips together, you glare at him harshly. “You were there that day, weren’t you?” you ask more quietly, and for a moment you see Prince Joshua falter. “Not that I’d expect you to care but surely you can at least understand why I don’t want to.”

“I-I’m sorry, but I really can’t change the past.”

Scoffing, you turn on your heel and open the door. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Wait—just wait a sec’!” he calls out, stopping the door with his palm before you close it. “You’re in your second year at Hong University, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “We’ll pay for the rest of your tuition.”

The air in your lungs seems stuck for a passing moment, and you shake your head to yourself, stepping into your house and turning around one last time with cold eyes and a deep frown. “No.”

The prince looks around hastily before blurting out, “We’ll do all of it!”

“All of what?”

“We’ll pay for all of your tuition—reimburse you for what you’ve already paid.” You don’t care. You shouldn’t care. “All of it, plus your hourly wage,” he adds, and you don’t even have a chance to think before you feel your mother’s hand on your back.

“She’ll do it.”

Your mother chuckles as she helps you tie the lavender colored robe around your waist. You’re not sure what she finds so funny about this, but you bite your tongue when you start to catch on how she ties the ribbons with such ease.

Over ten years of being away from the castle can’t erase the time she spent there, tying her own robe every morning before she was stripped of her title, and in turn, also the life she worked so hard to build up.

As you look down at the smooth fabric sent to you a week earlier from the castle, you’re forced to begrudgingly admire the intricate embroidery. The collar and ribbons are decorated with a darker purple stitching that runs in all sorts of twists and turns and swivels around the curves of your body.

“They’ve made them look nicer since I’ve last seen them,” she thinks out loud, matting her hands down your shoulders to smooth the fabric down one last time before taking a look.

“I don’t understand why you’re still so—” You inhale sharply and press your lips together, warning yourself to not say anything more when she shoots you a cautionary look. “Sorry,” you mutter, turning away so you can glance at yourself in the mirror. You do look pretty nice, if you had to admit.

“Just think about the money,” your mother encourages. “They’re covering the cost of all your schooling—all those days spent at Mr. Min’s can now go towards things you enjoy, rather than paying for your university.”

“I guess,” you grumble, adjusting your hair one last time before grabbing your phone and keys, walking towards the foyer.

“You know the way right?” your mother calls out as you slip on your shoes and walk out onto the front porch.

“I wish I didn’t,” is all you say, low and under your breath as you make your way to the car.

The castle lies in the heart of the city, so it’s quite the drive. You’re careful as you try to keep your robes clean, bunching it up to your thighs as you drive, and once you’ve made your way to the castle, you’re sure to make sure the hem of the bottom doesn’t hit the ground.

Reporting to the entrance that was given in your email (why they send emails for instructions but not the actual invitation to your job still remains a mystery to you), you carefully tuck your phone into a crevice of your robes.

The entrance starts at a gate on the east end of the castle, and you make your way to the little hut that sits at one end where a woman in a lavender polo and dress pants sits at a desk. Knocking on the window, you smile nervously as she looks up from her papers.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” you say, holding up your phone and pointing to your first day instructions. “It’s my first day here, and I’m not sure how to get inside and all.”

“Did they give you a code?”

“Uh, yeah let me check again,” you murmur, looking back at your phone to find the 5 digit code you were sent. “It’s, uh—32423.” The lady hums and nods, checking something on her computer before looking up at you with a smile.

“That’s correct. From now on you can just come through the smaller gate on the side—it should be to the left of this big gate, and just put in whatever code you have. It changes every few days but you’ll be notified with the new password every time it does.”

“Thank you,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to look at the gate she’s talking about.

“For now, just follow me. Since it’s your first day, I’ll show you the way to the … where was it you need to get to?”

“Right here it says the Advisory Quart?”

The girl’s eyes widen as she sits up from her seat and walks out of the hut, leading you toward the smaller gate. “Seriously?” she asks as she punches in the code, the gate automatically opening once she’s done.

The gate leads to a narrow pathway that runs slightly uphill in the midst of a lush field of trimmed green grass and sparse flowers that was previously hidden from you by the large stone halls. You remember the scene vaguely, but it’s a lot lovelier in person than you remember. Glancing up the pathway, you catch sight of the large castle in front of you, and the vision has an uneasy feeling floating in your stomach.

“Uh yeah, is that surprising?” you respond, hoping the small talk will distract you, even if it’s only a little.

“I mean the Advisory Quart is no joke. Those people work like crazy dogs—” she says with a laugh before looking at you with wide eyes. “Wait, I’m sorry—please don’t tell anyone I said that, they’ll—”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. But please do continue—what were you saying? I haven’t been in that castle in a long—I’ve never been to the castle before, so I’m not up to speed with all the different Quarts and sectors and stuff.”

“Oh well, it’s just that the Advisory Quart does a lot of work … I swear they’re always running around, talking about some new project they’re working on,” she says as you follow her up some steps, nearing an entrance to a building connected to the castle.

“What kind of projects?” you ask curiously.

“Oh gosh, everything, I tell you, they do pretty much everything. From helping the King with his own decisions to doing absolutely random, huge projects, there always seems to be someone who’s on top of everything. I remember I had a friend whose husband worked up there—they were working on designing a whole new ballroom and no one had any idea why! So what are you going to be doing there?”

Chuckling nervously, you aren’t sure if you should tell this girl that you don’t really know. “One of those random projects, I assure you,” you tell her because you’re pretty sure it’s true. After all, you’re almost positive they won’t have you be doing anything that’s worthwhile.

“Ah, well you’ll probably be swamped either way,” the girl says with a sigh as you reach a large wooden door. “Anyways, we’ll part ways here. Just go through these doors and there’ll be a big hallway. Ignore all the different corridors and doors on the side, and just go straight and you can see there’s an open room at the end of this hallway. That’s where your check-in will be, and the people there will direct you to wherever you need to go.”

You blink a few times, taking in all the information before nodding meekly, bowing and thanking the girl for her time as she walks away. Taking a deep breath, you open the door with a loud creaking noise, stepping into the grand hallway.

The walls are beige with ornate accents lining the bottom and top, intricate designs carved into the ceilings that hang chandeliers in intervals. Your sandals clack against smooth travertine marble as your eyes roam the entrances to different corridors and rooms, doors dark and wooden, similar to the one you just entered through.

There aren’t many people in the long hallways, passing by only a few others who seem to have their attention busied by papers or their phone. Some of them are wearing similar fashioned robes to yours, while most of the others are wearing the same lavender colored polo and white slacks as the girl who brought you here.

Smoothing the fabric below your waist one more time as you near the large open room you were directed to, you glance around and find a desk with a kind looking receptionist talking to a man wearing your kind of robes.

Quietly approaching the desk, you stand a few feet behind him, patiently waiting for them to finish so you can step up. Neither of them seem to notice, being caught up in a conversation that seems a bit of a mix of professional and leisurely.

Twiddling with your fingers behind your back, you rock side to side on your feet as you wait for the two to finish up talking about how they’re excited for the next ball that’s coming up, not bothering to think about who these people might be and why they’re even invited to it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man at the counter calls out, “I can help you.” He smiles and waves you over before nudging the other man on his shoulder. “Seokmin, go—you’re distracting me.”

The man he pushed is a handsome looking guy, light brown hair falling just above his eyes as he turns around and gives a small smile, stepping to the side but not fully backing away. “Ah, sorry about that. Go ahead, we were just catching up.”

“No worries,” you say quickly, walking up to the receptionist. “I’m here to find the Advisory Quart I think? I was told to report to this entrance, and the lady at the front told me to come here—it’s my first time here so—”

“Your first time in the castle?” the other man asks you with wide eyes.

“Uh, well—”

“Don’t mind him—Seokmin, you know better than to mess with the newbies,” the receptionist murmurs, and you frown at the word. He catches on and looks up at you, holding a hand out. “No offense.”

“N-none taken. So could you help me—I’m really not sure where to go.”

“Yeah of course. Does your email say who you’ll be reporting to?”

“It says here ‘Mr. Park.’”

“Oh okay, his room number’s going to be 77, right down that corridor right there,” the receptionist tells you kindly, pointing at one of the side hallways you saw while walking here. “Since it’s your first day, I’ll let him know that you’ll be coming down so he can be ready. I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Thank you so much,” you say bowing, quickly telling him your name. So caught up in the kindness of these peers, you almost forgot why you were so reluctant to come here in the first place, but no worries, this receptionist does a good job of reminding you.

His lips press into a thin line as raises a brow, asking you to repeat your last name again. When your answer slips from your lips, it’s much quieter. A heavy cloud sinks over you as you realize that even after years away, your family name is still tainted.

“Okay,” the receptionist finally says briskly, and you’re taken aback by how cold his voice has become. “I’ll let him know you’re coming down. You can proceed now.”

He doesn’t give you a ‘good luck,’ or a ‘have a nice day,’ or a ‘do you have any questions,’ despite his cheery attitude from before. Now he’s looking at you with an expressionless face and eyes that won’t meet yours as you shamefully turn away.

So caught up in the disappointment, you hardly notice how the other man—Seokmin—is still watching the scene unfold. As you walk away from the open room, there’s a hand on your wrist. Whipping around, you’re faced with a Seokmin whose face seems unreadable, just like the receptionists. Except something is … different. He seems sincere, and you feel safe.

“You might get lost trying to get there,” Seokmin says rather casually, letting go of your hand and walking next to you. “Come on, I’ll show you the way—I’m working under Mr. Park too actually, I’m his intern—so I know the way pretty well and can fill you in on what he’s like.”

You wonder why Seokmin isn’t acting like the receptionist. Your family name is still somewhat taboo in the city outside the castle, so you were pretty confident when walking into the actual place of the ‘crime scene’ that you’d be even more … generally disliked.

Seokmin seems to be different though, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Seokmin lets you know Mr. Park is mean when he wants, which seems to be always. Direct with his words but also, you have to read in between the lines sometimes if you don’t want to get scolded. You’re not sure what to do with that information, because Seokmin doesn’t tell you much else.

You walk down the corridor with him before stopping in front of a wooden door to your right, labeled with that familiar sun emblem and a golden plated plaque reading ‘77.’ “C’mon, he should be in here right now,” Seokmin says, pressing against the frame and pushing the door open.

Inside is a room unlike the others you’ve seen before. The ceiling is much lower and baskets of plants hang from it, vines lining the limestone walls, and pots and beds of plants sit by the smaller desks that litter the area. There’s a larger desk at the end opposite to the door, and you see a man with grey hair and firm eyes sitting at the ornate chair, reading through a stack of papers.

“Ah, Seokmin,” he says, standing up when he notices the two of you by the door, and it’s not you realize that this man is Mr. Park. Both you and Seokmin bow hastily. “I was waiting for the two of you to arrive.” His gaze then turns to you, and it’s sharp. “What took you so long?” His tone is harsh and you almost wince. “It isn’t your first time in the castle,” Mr. Park says bluntly, and for once you are taken aback because no one has addressed the cloud hanging over your head so directly yet.

“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been here in—”

“No excuses. Don’t be late again.”

“Y-yes sir,” you reply meekly, faltering in your step a little.

Mr. Park sighs heavily and looks at Seokmin, waving him off. “Go to the Ballroom and ask around to see if they need anything for tonight. Don’t be slow like last time.”

“Yes sir! Right on it,” Seokmin says with a nod, quickly turning on his heel and scurrying out of the room.

“And for you …” Mr. Park mutters as he takes in your figure with an unnerving look on his face. “I need you to lead a project.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “Lead a project? I don’t even know what—”

“Word has it that the Prince himself had to bribe you with a whole four years of Hong tuition to get you here. Surely you didn’t think you’d be given light work.” people knew about that?

“Well, I didn’t know much about anything and I don’t even know what work I’m supposed—”

“You’ll figure it out, soon enough,” Mr. Park tells you briskly, walking over to his desk where a large chalkboard sits to its left. Using a stick, he points at a word written in a corner. Garden. “The Queen has a courtyard that she no longer likes the look of. It’s been stripped down, and you’re in charge of turning it into a garden of her liking.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “A-a whole courtyard?”

Mr. Park raises a brow. “Are you saying that it’s too much for you?”

“N-no!” you exclaim quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I don’t get why I would be chosen to do this.”

Mr. Park huffs, and you wonder how such a tiny old man can fit so much sass in him. “If you must know: the Queen loved how your …” he pauses and within a fraction of a second you have a feeling where this is going, “… your mother designed the gardens on the West end.”

Mr. Park walks towards his desk and sits down, not looking at you as he cards through a few binders. “The Queen wants a similar style for this courtyard but since we can’t exactly have her back …”

You wince for real this time as you conclude, “… you tried to get the next closest thing.”

Mr. Park nods, not returning a snarky comment this time, much to your pleasure. “I’m the head of Design & Architecture, by the way, if you have any questions ask me—as long as it’s not stupid. You lead your project—design it and plan it. When you need people to work on it just talk to Seokmin and he’ll assign someone. You have three months to finish it. If you need an extension, you’ll have to get it approved by me.”

“Okay,” you respond quickly, trying to take in all the information at once. “Is there, like, a theme? Anything she wants in particular?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Mr. Park says bluntly and you frown as he points at a desk behind you. “Your desk is there. Any information you need will be there.”

“Y-yes sir, thank you,” you say, bowing and turning on your heel to sit down at your new chair. The desk is dark, wooden, and completely barren except for a thin folder set in the middle. Opening it, there’s a single paper inside with only a few bullet points typed out, and it hardly takes you a moment to read through all of it.

It’s vague—your only real requirements are the adherence to the kingdom’s symbolic purple colors, and inclusion of a general theme throughout the courtyard.

You furrow your eyebrows at the lack of guidance—were you really left to make such major decisions about such a large space in a castle you haven’t been in years? There’s so much room for error and disappointment and rejection, and after the past years of being treated like your family was nothing but a mistake, you aren’t sure if you can handle any more of it.

Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly nod to yourself in a silent promise. Closing the folder, you stand up. “Mr. Park, sir, do you know where the courtyard—”

“There is a map on the wall. Figure it out.”

You huff, glancing at the large map of the castle next to the chalkboard. This is going to be harder than you thought.

You run into Seokmin just as you leave 77, and he helps lead you to the courtyard. “So you’re working on this one, huh,” he says under his breath as you both appear in front of a large plot of land surrounded by castle buildings on all sides. You’re both standing on the East entrance to the courtyard, and there are four adjacent and opposite entrances on all other sides.

“Uh, yeah,” you say steadily, glancing back down at your minimal instructions before looking back up at the courtyard. It’s a square, and if you had to estimate, each side would be around 50 yards long, leaving quite a great deal of space for you to work with it.

“Pretty big project, huh,” Seokmin says, although his tone seems much more lighthearted than your mood. How the hell are you supposed to transform this in three months?

“Yeah,” you mutter, squinting at the bright sunlight as you analyze the plot.

“You know, I can totally help if you want,” Seokmin begins to say, and you take note of how quickly he talks. “I don’t know if Mr. Park told you but you can basically ask me for help on anything and like, I’m really doing this whole interning thing for fun—” Who the hell works as an intern for Mr. Park, for fun? “—so I’d be happy to help.”

“Thanks. I’ll ask if I need anything.”

“Great!” Seokmin cheers, clapping his hands together before looking behind your shoulder and letting his smile brighten. He waves at someone behind you and you purse your lips together, wondering if you should brace yourself for yet another salty interaction.

“Minnie!” a deep voice greets and suddenly, your feet seem glued in their spot. You know that voice.

“Shua, hey!” Seokmin says cheerily, and you silently cringe. “Crazy running into you here, gosh, I haven’t seen you since last week!”

Prince Joshua laughs, and it reminds you of all those years ago when you watched him from inside the greenhouse. You hate how you remember.

“Yeah, my fencing instructor let me off earlier so I thought I might browse around the castle for a bit,” he explains, and when it all goes quiet and you realize that he must be looking at you, but you don’t dare to turn around.

“Oh,” Seokmin exclaims, as if he’s just realized that he forgot something. You feel a tapping on your shoulder, and for a second you debate just running the other way and never letting yourself return to the castle but for something, you’re planted in your place. “Hey, look,” he says quietly in your ear, “It’s the Prince.”

Like you don’t fucking know that. Nodding, you slowly follow his lead and turn around, eyes trained on the ground as you bow.

“Oh, well if it isn’t that little ray of sunshine,” Prince Joshua says, and it takes everything to not let your eye twitch as you finally look up at him. He’s wearing the same royal uniform you say to him when you showed up on his doorstep and his eyes are crinkled as he smiles widely.

Your face burns as Seokmin’s eyes flicker back and forth between you, and your lips are pressed together in an awkward silence. “You know each other?” His face displays nothing but perplexion for a few moments but then it seems that some of the cogs turned and his lips open wide into a large ‘o,’ and Seokmin waves his finger while nodding. “Oh you’re the girl Shua said he had to offer four years worth of—”

“Seokmin,” Prince Joshua interrupts, putting his hand over his friend’s mouth after catching the look of mortification on your face for bringing it up. “Mr. Park was calling you, I’m pretty sure.”

“Ugh, are you kidding me? I thought this would be fun for the summer but he actually has me doing stuff!” As the two converse casually, you wonder how hard it’d be to quickly slip away.

“Not sure what you expected,” Joshua chides his friend before Seokmin groans and you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking away. He calls out your name once and your eyes shoot up as you bashfully wave your hand at him, bidding goodbye.

You’re left in this corridor with the empty thoughts in your head and the goddamn prince of the kingdom. You half expect him to just wave at you and go about his own business, but it seems like you still have a lot of learning to do.

After all, Prince Joshua is a fickle man. “It’s nice to see you again, Sunshine,” he greets, and you think you might pass out from embarrassment. Glancing around, you see a few maids overhear him using the name and murmuring their own whispers amongst themselves as they rush away.

“H-hi,” you say nervously, suddenly aware that much attention is on you now that the prince is speaking to you.

“So this is what you’re working on?” he asks curiously, not paying a single mind to your awkwardness, walking toward the door which leads to the East entrance to the courtyard.

“Yes sir,” you murmur. You could be snappish outside the walls and in the boundaries of your own home but here, you’re bound by royal courtesy and witnesses that surround you. Compliance is all you can manage out in the open.

“Don’t call me sir—you’re around the same age as me, so it feels weird,” Joshua says dismissively, and you furrow your brows at how casual he’s being. “So,” he starts, looking out at the empty yard of dirt, “you got any idea of what you’re going to do with it?”

“Not a clue,” you reply honestly, keeping your answers brisk. Joshua seems to catch on and he pouts at you. How can a man act so childish? The thought lingers in your head for a moment before he starts talking to you.

“So cold. Brighten up Sunshine. I’ll stop in soon to see how it’s going here—I’m interested!” he says cheerily before stepping back and nodding. You bow as he walks away, waving to you one last time before leaving you in the corridor with not a single thought in his mind.

There seems to be a distinct odd air around the prince, except you can’t quite place why that is.

It’s been three weeks since you started working at the castle—time passes quickly when you have loads of work to do and not much time to do it. You spent the first week hunched over at your desk simply raking your mind for ideas, for anything that would give you even a smidge of inspiration.

77 is rather sparse. It’s only really you and Mr. Park actually working in there, with the occasional Seokmin running in and out to tend to everyone’s miniscule needs.

And then there’s Jihoon, who is the only other person who actually works at his desk, even if it’s only for an hour a day. Jihoon is slightly brooding and always has his nose buried in some work, but he seems standoff-ish to just about everyone. He isn’t unkind though, just … just reserved, and you feel thankful that there’s another person somewhat like you here.

77 is kind to you and your heart. Everyone works on their own schedule and is in their own head, and no one seems to treat you extraordinarily different. You wish the same would go for the rest of the castle.

On the second day of your work, the embroidered name on the fabric over your right breast was clear enough for people to start learning who you were and recognize your face.

But you’re used to the stares—both the subtle and obvious ones—and you are used to the whispers, the guessing games about whether or not you’re a slut just like your mother was.

You’re not, by the way, but you’ve had enough experience with these kinds of people to know that they can guess all they want but you know the answer, and the truth will come to light at some point. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, they'll figure it out on their own. Eventually.

By the second week, you figured out a plan and needed to get to work on executing it. Seokmin seemed to be pleased when you asked him for help on that.

“I need people who can build a pathway,” was all you needed to tell him and then he was on the phone, and then the next day you had ten men ready for you by the dirt field ready to work. “I want stone tiles and it needs to curve exactly like this,” you told them, showing them a scaled down map of the area with a long, curvy line running from the North to South ends, and another even more curvy one running from the East to West end.

They didn’t ask questions, which you’re grateful for, because coming up with it was a whole feat on its own. Explaining it would be a whole other story.

As you walk up to the castle’s entrance today, you catch sight of a girl who sits in her little hut in front of the East gate. She’s the same girl who helped you on the first day, you realize. She was kind then, you remember, but now as you meet her gaze, she turns away and pretends to go back to her phone.

You don’t frown or let the gesture sear your heart because in all honesty, that’s exactly what you’re expecting. Sighing, you make your way to the smaller gate and walk the small way up to the actual castle grounds before heading straight to 77.

Jihoon is sitting at his desk but is just about to get up, sending you a quick nod as he stacks his files and walks out of the room. Mr. Park isn’t here, for once, although you did overhear some information about a ball happening tonight so you figure he must be busy.

You’re thankful Seokmin is here, and you catch him watering one of the plants. “Hey, what are you doing?” you ask him hastily, walking up behind his back before grabbing the watering pot from his hands.

“Um … watering … the plants?”

“These are yarrows,” you emphasize, pointing at the white flowers he was just watering.

“Okay … I am really not sure what to do with that information,” Seokmin says slowly as if he isn’t quite processing your words.

Huffing, you tell him, “Yarrows don’t need a lot of water. You aren’t watering them … I think a better word would be drowning.”

“Oh,” Seokmin mutters, looking down at that pot that’s now rich with soaked soil. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know,” he apologizes, and you purse your lips together because he does sound sincere.

“It’s okay … sorry for being mean about it,” you add quietly, returning the pot to his hand. “I can send you a list later—of all the plants here and how much water they need.”

Seokmin’s ears perk up. “Really? Thank you, but you seriously don’t have to, you know.”

“I know, but I enjoy talking about plants and stuff. And I’d rather the ones in this room be taken care of nicely, so the least I can do is help you,” you offer before retreating to your desk. “I think I need your help by the way, so can you come with me?” you ask, pulling out a measuring tape from a drawer.

Seokmin nods, dropping the watering bucket by his own desk and following behind you as you leave the room. The journey from the Advisory Quart to your courtyard, which is located near Royal Residence Quart, is quite the walk, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit pleased that you had someone like Seokmin as company.

“How’s the project turning out?” he asks as you make your way down the long hallways. You catch a few other workers spare the two of you glances and you try to hold your head up and look forward when you respond.

“I’m a little behind,” you admit. “But the construction manager told me that they should be finished with the pathway today, and I asked them to start tilling some other parts of the field so I can get some flora in there soon.”

“Oh really That’s nice—I stopped by the place just the other day and the pathway was looking pretty cool—the color fit in really well.”

“Hm, that’s good … I was worried about that,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully, pulling out your phone so you can glance at the list of things you need to get done before heading back to 77. Tucking the device back into a crevice of your robe, you smile as you near the East end courtyard entrance. “I gotta get a plaque up here or something,” you remind yourself, looking at the empty space above the entrance.

“You want me to get on that soon?” Seokmin offers and you shrug.

“I guess. I’ll still have to come up with a name for this place …” you say, walking into the courtyard.

“Wow,” Seokmin mutters as he follows behind you. “The pathway looks great!” He pats your back and you throw him a small smile when you look over the two twisting paths that connect the 4 ends of the courtyard. “What was it that you needed my help with again—Oh hey! Shua!”

Oh for fuck’s sake—

“Seokminnie!” that familiar, smooth voice appears from behind you as Seokmin turns on his heel and scurries toward his friend. Slowly and carefully, you tuck your hands behind your back and bow when you turn around and are met with the sight of Prince Joshua. “Sunshine,” he greets with a smile after exchanging his casual pleasantries with his friend.

“Good morning sir,” you murmur as Seokmin bounces up and down on feet from a newfound excitement. How does he have this much energy at nine in the morning?

“I thought I said don’t call me sir,” Prince Joshua tells you, scrunching his face up when you let the word slip from your mouth. “Feels weird.”

“I’m sorry but you’re kind of the prince. I don’t think there’s anything else for me to call you other than ‘sir,’” you huff lowly before slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re not scared of what Joshua might do, per se, but the thought of someone else overhearing your snarky remark has you reminding yourself to be more careful.

Joshua only chuckles. Is there anything that bothers him? “You’re funny,” he comments. “You can call me Joshua, like Minne over here,” he tells you, patting Seokmin’s shoulder affectionately.

Your face sours and you shake your head, “I’m sorry that doesn’t feel right.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore what you said and instead looks around the courtyard. “Nice pathway. It’s cool that it isn’t straight—is it supposed to be something?”

“Sort of,” you say, turning around to look at the stone on the ground. “It’s confusing.”

Joshua scoffs. “Try me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Why Prince Joshua—or as he would like you to call him, just Joshua—is so curious about a random courtyard is beyond you. “They’re just lines that follow the movement of sunlight. I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“That’s cool,” Seokmin chimes in when he sees you pulling out a roll of measuring tape. “Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t get to hear what you said you needed help with.”

“Oh yeah, I just want to measure a—”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Joshua says, and you frown when he pulls out a buzzing phone, holding it up to Seokmin’s face. “What did you do this time—why is Mr. Park calling me?”

Seokmin’s eyes widen in panic as you watch the scene unfold. “What?! I haven’t done anything wrong recently. Well I don’t think I did and I’m pretty sure—”

He’s cut off by Joshua pressing his finger over his lip, effectively shutting him up. You almost laugh at the way Seokmin complies so quickly, but hold it back as Joshua holds the phone up to his ear. The sounds that come from the call are muffled but you can vaguely make out the voice of your boss before Joshua sighs and ends the call.

“What are yarrows and what did you do to them?” he asks his friend, and this time you actually do stifle out a giggle. Joshua glances at you as you quickly press your lips back into a fine line, both of you turning your attention back to Seokmin whose ears are turning bright red, shoulders tensing up.

“Oh no—I really don’t want another scolding!” he whines.

“Well buckle up, because he’s asking for you back at 77 right now,” Joshua shrugs as Seokmin huffs, stomping off back into the corridor and presumably back toward the Advisory Quart. “Sorry,” he says, turning to you, “I keep sending your assistant away when you need him.”

“It’s fine,” you say gruffly. “I, uh, I can still do this all by my stuff so it’s not really a big deal.”

Joshua narrows his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t have fencing for another …” He glances down at his star studded wrist watch for a second, “… thirty minutes so I can help out.”

To say you’re mortified by the offer is an understatement. A prince helping out you? He must be fucking with you because—

“Stop giving me weird looks. I know how to help out around here, you know?”

“Duly noted, but I’m not sure how it would look on my end if the prince was helping me out with—” you gesture to the field around you, “—yard work.”

Joshua laughs, and once again you’re left in perplexity. “Weren’t you the one who reminded me that this is the 21st century? I don’t just sit around and do nothing, you know that right?”

“But still,” you mumble.

“Okay fine. If you’re so obsessed with this royal hierarchy thing, then I, as Prince Joshua, am officially requesting you to let me help. Surely you won’t turn that down.”

This man is so weird.

“Fine,” you relent, holding up the measuring tape. “You see that little circle in the middle where the pathways sort of curve around? I need to measure the circumference of it.”

“That’s it?” Joshua asks casually, grabbing one end of the measuring tape as you make your way to the plot. “Oh, I mean I guess it’s kinda big,” he adds, glancing down at the measuring tape. This one only goes up to 15 feet.”

“You’re right,” you mutter to yourself. “Okay here, let’s just use this,” you say, pulling out a roll of thin string and handing one end to Joshua. “If you stand here I’ll just circle it around and measure the length of the string,” you explain, unraveling the roll and walking around the outer edge of the circle, trailing the string behind you.

Joshua just stands in the spot that you placed him, holding the string and frowning. “I feel like I’m not helping much.”

“Trust me,” you reply under your breath. “You’re helping me just enough.” You don’t mean it to come out bitter, but it does anyways.

“What happened to all the royal hierarchy stuff that you were on about?”

Your eyes harden on him as you’ve made it halfway around the length of the circle, pausing to make sure he notices your subtle glare. “If you didn’t know, this is kind of my job on the line, and while you’ve made it clear that what I say doesn’t affect you, I’m not sure the same could be said for what other people see. So I’m sorry if I don’t want people looking at us and getting the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean the wrong idea?”

Huh. And here you thought that with all those royal tutors, the prince would be smart. Too bad for Joshua, but right now, he’s coming off as just about the densest guy alive.

You’ve been working at the castle for five weeks now. Since your last meeting with Joshua (he insists you get rid of the ‘Prince’ and ‘sir’ so diligently now that even in your head, you’ve removed him of those honorifics), you’ve only seen him twice.

The first was three days after he helped you measure the length of your soon to be pond. You were on the phone with a construction contractor in 77 when Joshua popped in to say ‘hi’ to Seokmin (how and why the two are friends, you don’t know, and you don’t care enough to ask). Noticing you were here past the regular working hour of six, he waited for a few moments to let you finish up your call before walking up to your desk.

“You know you don’t get paid overtime, right Sunshine?” he asks, confused on why exactly you were still here.

“Well work needs to get done,” you sigh heavily, taking a few seconds to clean up your desk and throw away a few old designs you sketched earlier.

“Hey, those looked cool, why’d you trash them?”

“They didn’t work,” you tell him, rummaging through more papers to find the few that you actually wanted to keep.

“Told you,” Seokmin comes up from behind Joshua, patting his shoulder. “She’s a tough judge—even on herself.”

“I get what you mean now,” Joshua murmurs, nodding along with his friend.

Your eyes snap up. “Why are you talking about me as if I’m not here—wait, why do you guys talk about me when I’m not here anyways?”

“You’re like the only one that’s nice to me in 77! Well, sort of,” Seokmin reasons with you.

“I mean you do kind of suck as an intern—”

“Hey! I just happened to get distracted a lot. I’m an honest worker, trust!”

You huff, finally finding the paper that you were looking for. It’s a design for a couple plaques that you want posted above the entrances, and you tuck it into a folder.

“Is that in Latin?” Joshua piques when he catches a glimpse of the wording.

“Uh, yeah—you know Latin?”

“He’s a prince. Of course he does,” Seokmin tells you, turning around to nudge his friend on the side. “This spoiled brat has been learning Latin since he was six!”

Joshua scoffs. “Who’re you calling a spoiled brat? You were in those classes with me too!”

You consider wondering about who exactly Seokmin is and why he was in those classes with a prince, why he’s so close with Joshua, and a plethora of questions run through your mind, before you remind yourself that you really don’t care.

“Yeah but—” Seokmin tries to reason with his friend before you stand up and both of their attention are directed at you.

“You’re right Pri—Joshua. I don’t get paid overtime, so I’m gonna get going now.” You bow at him and then Seokmin, grabbing your folder and bag before pushing in your chair and heading to the exit. Awkwardly, the two boys say bye to you before glancing at each other.

“That was weird,” Seokmin says, and Joshua shrugs.

“I guess.”

“Did you actually understand what she wrote or were you just bluffing? I don’t remember shit from those Latin lessons.”

Joshua rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but I only got the second word. Said ‘invictus,’ I think.”

“Huh, cool. Got no clue what that means.”

“It means undefeatable, dipshit,” Joshua groans. “Seriously, how’d you pass that class!”

“Hey, I was a great student—I just have, uh, bad memory,” Seokmin pouts.

“Yeah I can tell … seriously, how did you manage to fuck up the yarrows even after she,” Joshua gestures behind him as if to point at where you exited just a few moments earlier, “sent you all those instructions and all!”

“God, don’t remind me. I actually feel really bad, ‘cause Mr. Park yelled at her too for giving me ‘the wrong instructions,’ but I really just forgot what she told me.” Cringing at the mental image of both you and Seokmin being scolded by Mr. Park, Joshua shakes his head—that is not a pretty scene.

Joshua sighs, the two of them making their way out of the empty 77 and walking down the corridor towards the Royal Residence Quart. “Why’re you even interning for him? You don’t need a job, especially not as one being an assistant.”

“My dad’s pissed at me, remember?” Seokmin tells his friend gruffly, and Joshua purses his lips at the mention of the older man.

“Right.”

“Wanted to punish me for the summer or whatever, but I guess it’s not too bad. The staff are actually pretty funny, and your Sunshine girl is really bossy so she gives me a lot of work to do.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complaining or celebrating.”

“Both, I think,” Seokmin replies, the two of them laughing together. “Why do you talk to her so much? She’s even snappier to you than to me, and trust me, I can be pretty damn annoying.”

“Like I don’t know that,” Joshua mutters teasingly, earning him a punch on the arm. “But anyways, she seems interesting. Like cool, you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Seokmin says absentmindedly. “Wonder what my dad would say about that.”

“Okay well your dad isn’t the King so I don’t really think it matters what your dad says about it.”

Seokmin raises a brow. “You sure? My dad almost had me transferred out of 77 because he heard I had to work with her.”

“Well that’s his own problem I guess. Just don’t let him bring it up with my dad because I’m not keen on having any more drama in this castle,” Joshua mumbles, stopping in front of the big door that leads to the residence.

Seokmin nods at one of the guards standing by the door, and she presses a code to a small box on the wall and the doors open. “You coming? Dinner’s about to be served,” he calls to Joshua when he walks forward but realizes his friend isn’t by his side.

Smiling, Joshua shakes his head and waves Seokmin off. “I’m gonna take a breather for a bit. Tell them to start dinner without me.”

Seokmin laughs. “You know they won’t do that.”

“I know, I know, but it’s the gesture that counts anyways. I’ll be back in twenty, trust.”

The second time you saw Joshua was yesterday evening just as you were just leaving 77 to head home, your arms full of papers to look through in the night. After getting the pathways cleaned up, you needed to work on adding more structures to the courtyard, but were at a loss of what to make and what to make it with.

With your stack of papers that were littered with different possible materials and architectural structures that you promised yourself to get through by the end of the night, even if it meant pulling a whole damn all nighter.

“Is Sunshine leaving at a normal time for once?” Joshua asks with a faux gasp as he comes across you in the hallway.

With the paper’s digging into your arms, you can only manage to grunt out a short, “Thankfully, I am,” before increasing your pace so you can get all this stuff to your car as quickly as possible.

“Hey, wait!” Joshua calls out from behind you, and you almost whine because your arms are killing you and you aren’t sure how much more of this you can handle. “Do you need help? I can—”

He’s cut off by the sound of your phone slipping from your pocket and crashing to the ground. “Shit,” you whimper under your breath as you try to balance all the papers on one hand while crouching down to pick up your phone with the other. You’re wobbling under all the weight, and you have half a mind to give up right here and now but then a larger hand is pushing itself into your vision.

“Here,” he says, quickly turning over the device to check for any cracks on the scene. In that fraction of a moment, your phone turns on and flashes your very bright and very embarrassing lock screen. Your face burns as you snatch the phone from his hands and tuck it back into your pocket. “Is that Percy Jackson?”

Adjusting the papers in your hand, you shuffle your feet and start walking toward the exit. Joshua follows, as expected. “Uh, yeah—I know it’s embarrassing but—”

“Uh, you did not just say that,” Joshua scoffs, and when you catch the oddly offended look on his face, your annoyance dissipates for a moment. “Percy Jackson is not embarrassing. Those books were like the defining character of my pre-teens.”

You chew on your lip, wondering how you should respond to this. “That’s cool. I used to like the stories too …”

“Seems like you still do, considering it’s like, your lock screen and all.”

“Look, I just have it ‘cause it looks cool,” you tell him bashfully, speeding up the pace of your steps in hopes that it’ll bring this conversation to end faster.

“Uh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.”

“I’m serious,” you huff. “I liked the books ages ago, but now I’m only interested in Greek mythology. It just so happens that the best art of Greek gods comes from Percy Jackson fan artists.”

“Sure. sure,” Joshua says blankly with a smirk teasing at his lips. “Again, totally believe you.” You don’t know why his subtle teasing has you gripping onto your papers so tightly, why it has you gritting your teeth together. And then you remember who this is and it all makes sense.

Joshua is playful and lighthearted, but he is still the Prince, after all.

Your sixth week at the castle, and you’re nearing the halfway mark for your project’s timeline. You’ve spent the past week working on getting some stone benches built into the courtyard, and just this morning you sent in an order to get some plaques engraved.

Mr. Park stopped by when you were checking out your progress earlier, glancing at the pathways and the nearly completed seating. He didn’t say anything, simply nodding and walking along, and you figure that that’s the best you’ll get from him.

Your day goes by fine, for the most part after that. When you take your lunch break at the cafeteria, Seokmin tags along and you’re pleased that for once, you won’t have to eat alone. He has to leave soon after though—apparently Jihoon called for his help, and so you’re left to take care of this afternoon’s work by yourself.

Not that you mind—people let you be in the castle, and it’s actually quite nice for getting work done. When you return to 77, it’s only occupied by Mr. Park who, as always, pays no mind to you. Taking a look at your schedule, you aren’t sure if you feel like smiling or frowning when you see your next activity lined up.

Visiting the greenhouse.

There’s an odd feeling that blooms in your stomach as you walk there. You haven’t been to this side of this castle yet, partly because you don’t need to, but mostly because you don’t want to.

It’s when you leave the walls and take your way out to the Northeastern gardens of the palace that the pathways start ringing bells in your head. The familiar green bushes that you remember your mother tending to. The fields of daffodils, and the little built in canals that lead toward the row of greenhouses—it’s all flooding back to you, and you can’t figure out if you like it or not.

When you first came to the castle, you figured that you could avoid confronting the remnants of your past, but you should’ve known that everything eventually goes full circle.

Which is how you find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse where everything—your life, your mother’s life, all of it—ended on that day over ten long years ago.

Taking a deep breath, you go up to the door of the largest greenhouse ,tentatively tapping on the blurry glass before pushing it open. Peeking inside, you’re met with the familiar sight of flora arranged in neat lines of soil beds.

As you step in, the air is moist and stuffy—when you inhale, you’re reminded of those early Saturday mornings where you sat by your mother’s desk and watched her tend to the plants. The humidity was usually uncomfortable, but you learned to love it. Right now, you learn how much you missed it.

“Can I help you?” a gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, and you whip your head around to find an elderly woman glaring up at you.

“Hi, I called earlier and you said I could take some of the hyacinths. I just wanted to ask which greenhouse they’d be in because—”

“31C,” she says bluntly, immediately turning back around to tend to whatever she was doing earlier.

You watch her for a few seconds blankly, before snapping out of your haze, “O-okay, thank you.” Pursing your lips, you let your head hang low as you start walking toward the door.

“That damned slut,” the woman mutters quietly. You don’t think you want to hear it, but you continue to listen anyway. “Thinks she can just send her daughter over and—”

“And?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been more happy to hear Joshua’s voice.

Looking up, he’s just entered through the entrance you were about to exit through, and while you would usually mull over the possible reasons he would be here, you’re far more focused on watching the bewildered look on this woman’s face

“Nothing sir!” she replies quickly, back straightened as she presses her hands behind her back. 

“Good to hear,” he says simply. You watch from the side as Joshua gives her a look that you can’t really gauge before turning to you with a brighter look on his face. “Seokmin told me I would find you here?”

“I—yeah, he was right.”

“Well I can see that Sunshine,” Joshua chuckles and waves your hand in a gesture to follow him. You don’t have any other choice than to follow him out the greenhouse and into the much freer, lighter air. “What’re you doing here anyways?” he asks when you start finding your way to 31C.

“I need to look at some flowers.” Joshua asks you quite a bit about the courtyard, and although you don’t really get it, you’ve learned that it’s easier to just reply to his questions honestly than try to avoid them.

“For the courtyard?” he piques as you finally find the smaller greenhouse, opening the door to thankfully find it empty of anyone else.

Your gaze lands on a bed of hyacinths as you reply, “What else?”

“Okay, you need to stop answering all of my questions like I’m stupid.”

Huffing, you pull up a pot from under the bed and fill it up with soil before digging your hands into the dirt around one of the hyacinth plants. Your fingers search under the earth before feeling against the roots and carefully pulling out the plant.

“Maybe stop asking stupid questions then,” you suggest.

“Seeing as you think I’m dumb … do you want to tutor me?”

“What?” you deadpan, looking up at him with your hands still in the dirt. “Why?”

“I mean like, you’re smart and all, plus we get along—”

You click your tongue, finally pulling the plant out of the soil and pressing it into the pot. “Not so sure about that second part.”

“Okay well we have some shared interests and stuff—”

“Like?” you counter, walking over to a sink so you can wash the excess soil off.

“Percy Jackson. Greek mythology?”

Your ears perk up at that. “You like Greek mythology?”

“Yes! See! That’s like, already two common interests, Sunshine.”

“More like only two. And one of them is a book series I haven’t read in about nine years so I’m not even sure it counts,” you rebut.

“Oh no, it definitely counts,” Joshua counters, watching you pick up the flower pot and head towards the greenhouse exit. “Wait, we’re diverting from the point here.”

“What is the point again?”

“You need to tutor me!” he whines as he follows behind you, up the pathway back to the castle.

“I need to? Uh, sorry, but I don’t think tutoring the Prince is under my job description.”

“This is a different job though!”

You knit your eyebrows together. “Am I getting paid?”

“You might,” Joshua smirks. “I’ll pay you by the hour.”

Pondering, you chew on the inside of your cheek, before you finally respond, “How much are we talking?”

Joshua grins, shaking his head. “Should’ve known money was the way to your heart Sunshine.”

“Money is not the way to my heart. It’s just the way to get me to tutor you. Don’t mix those two up.”

“Don’t worry Sunshine, I wish you all the best in finding your sugar daddy husband eventually.”

Glaring, you chastise him. “Joshua!”

“Why did you ask me to do this again?” you ask, stepping into the room Joshua has just led you to. It’s near the Royal Residence Quart of the castle, and you’re a bit on edge. Joshua assured you earlier that no one would question why you of all people would be here with him, but you’ve also noticed that the boy can be a bit distant from reality.

“Because,” Joshua starts, watching you look around the room (it is a very nice room; bookshelves line the walls and there’s a grand desk in the middle, a rolling chalkboard on one end and a vintage map on another rolling board scattered off to another end). “I don’t like the royal tutor they have, and you’re smart,” he says casually.

“You can’t ask for another one?” you murmur, raising a brow as he moves to the desk and hands you a folder.

“I could, but my mother would get upset if I keep running through them. I’ve changed my tutors far too many times by now.”

“Ah,” you say dryly. “The extreme difficulties of the royalty. How unfortunate.”

“Sunshine,” Joshua grins, ignoring your snarky comment. “Can you at least pretend you want to be here?”

“Um, I’ll think about it,” you reply honestly, pursing your lips together as you glance at his chalkboard which has a list of things he needs to go over. “What is it that you need help on?”

“Well I’m good at math and stuff but Literature and Chemistry are quite literally killing me,” Joshua says with a sigh, sitting down at his desk.

“Literature?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “You’re the Prince—isn’t Literature supposed to be like, I don’t know, your forte?”

“Who told you that?” Joshua asks with a pout, pulling up a packet of papers and letting it down on his desk with a thud.

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed they’d be having you read Machiavelli or something like that from the age of two.”

Joshua scoffs, holding up the book so you can read out the title. Oh, it’s The Waste Land. “Okay I get that this is a kingdom and all but seriously, who even uses Machiavellianism anymore? That’s from like six hundred years ago.”

“Less than that,” you correct, but shrug anyways and sit down at the chair on the other side of his desk. “But whatever, you need help with The Waste Land?”

“I mean, yeah I’ve read it a bunch but I just never get it and my mom is obsessed with it for some reason and I really don’t want her to make me sit through another read of it so I really need to write up something good on it that will satisfy my Literature instructor and my mom so I can get it out of the way.”

“A paper?”

“Yeah, you know: analyzing themes and stuff.”

“Okay I know what a paper is,” you snap and Joshua rolls his eyes.

“Look now you’re just picking fights over everything I say. Just relax and—”

“I am relaxed,” you huff, but the tension in your shoulders says otherwise. To be honest, you’re still not sure why Joshua decided to choose you of all people, as if you haven’t made it clear multiple times that you weren’t his biggest fan.

You can respect the effort, you guess, but the way he seems so unbothered by your snarkiness is getting a little bit irritating.

“Whatever you say Sunshine,” Joshua says with a shrug, turning the packet and handing it to you. The poem is littered with annotations, underlines, and highlighter marks all over, and you squint for a moment trying to remind yourself of what you remember from the last time you looked at the work. “You read it before? The Waste Land?”

“Uh, yeah, ages ago though. Like back in high school,” murmur, flipping through the pages to jog your memory.

“Why were you reading The Waste Land in high school? Seems like too much, no?”

“Well not everyone was granted the freedom to do as they please with whoever they please,” you tell him, eyes flickering between Joshua’s curious face and the packet in front of you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joshua asks, and his voice is slightly whiny.

“It means that people didn’t want to talk to me so I had to spend my time reading. Even if it was ‘too much,’ or whatever you said.”

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice is quiet. See, you remind yourself, clouded from reality is what Joshua is. “Well I—”

“Forget it. I think I’m going to have to go home and reread The Waste Land if you want me to be of any help. What else do you have to work on, or do you just want to do Chemistry?”

“Uh, sure we can move onto Chemistry,” Joshua replies hastily, tucking the paper back into his folder haphazardly before shoving it into a drawer and pulling out a much thicker notebook. “I kinda need help with a lot of it. Like—I’m sorry I just don’t get it—what the hell is an electrophile and a nucleophiles and why the hell I need to know them for alkanes and—”

“Slow down,” you say, sticking your hand out. You grab the notebook from his desk and skip over the contents before looking back up. “If you want me to do this for you, we’re going to have to start from the basics, okay?”

Joshua gives you a look which tells you he doesn’t think he needs to do that, but you open the notebook to a new page, pulling out a pen. Begrudgingly, he nods and leans his head in to see what you’re writing.

He’s oddly compliant when you ask him to be, despite his jumpy and bubbly personality, and for a fraction of a second, you wonder about his potential. Quickly, you push that thought out of your mind.

It’s late afternoon when you reach the courtyard, smiling at the progress. You told the workers to get started on digging up the pond this morning, and you’re pleased to see that there’s already a large dugout in the century.

“Good work!” you chirp to Jungho, the contractor you talked to over the phone. He seemed nice enough over the phone, but you soon realized within the first time that you two met in person that he was just as standoff-ish as the rest. “But we’re going to need to get the insides patted down and compressed so when we put the water in, the soil won’t just soak it up,” you try to tell him casually.

Jungho points his thumb behind him at some of his men. “Yeah we have a guy for that,” he says gruffly, not even meeting your gaze.

“Thanks … maybe have it finished within a week?”

“Okay. Anything else?” Jungho looks around awkwardly, before adding. “Want us to get the water in there too? Then we can get outta … outta your hair and stuff and don’t have to keep coming back.”

“Uh, no—there’s some lining I want to do with the pond, and I’ve got to do that before there’s water in it. But it’s something I want to do myself, so you can just take care of compressing the soil and I’ll take it from there.”

Jungho gives you a weird look but you brush it off. “Alright. We’ll have it finished by tomorrow,” he finalizes, and with that he turns on his heels and walks back to his workers who you can tell were watching him from the corner of their vision.

“Why are those guys looking at you like that?”

You whip your head around, seeing Joshua standing just a few meters away from you on the pathway coming in from the East entrance. He glances around and finds a marble bench that’s just been made, sitting on the edge casually.

“Joshua, you’ve seen people look at me like that before and I think you know exactly why,” you mutter, walking over to where he sits. Joshua doesn’t respond and instead averts his gaze to the ground.

There’s a stray kitten bouncing around at his feet, and he’s quick to drop to his knees on the pathway and engulf her in his large hands. It would be an endearing sight, you think. Sorta, you guess.

“Whatever. You’re still coming in on Sunday right? My instructor prepared this stupid Chemistry exam for me on Tuesdays and I know you can’t help out on Mondays so I kind of really need you to help me on Sunday so I can prep. So please, please, please—”

“You know I’m gonna come in, so you don’t have to pester me so much about it,” you say with a sigh, putting your folder down and crouching on the ground so you can pet the kitten. She’s cute, with wide slanted eyes and soft brown fur, the wet kitten licks feeling warm against your palm.

“But you put up with it, don’t you?” You roll your eyes but Joshua still grins when you don’t disagree.

“I don’t understand you,” you mutter, truthfully speaking your mind as the kitten rolls around in Joshua’s lap. You smile without thinking, and Joshua carefully watches your usually taut face unravel in front of him.

“Are you kidding me? I’m literally an open book. You know Sunshine, you can find my whole life on Wikipedia.”

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that, and it’s hard to tell who is more surprised between the two of you. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you murmur, struggling to hold back another laugh, the kitten jumping out of his lap to play around on the ground under the gentle hands of you and Joshua.

“Not that I would know. You think I’m stupid anyways.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Oh my god, please don’t even try to counter that. When I told you I didn’t know why helium was named helium, you looked at me like I was the dumbest person to ever live.”

“Okay that’s only because you say you like Greek mythology! How could you not put that together—it’s so obvious! Helium and Helios sound totally alike, and everyone knows helium is like, one of the most abundant elements in the sun.”

“Maybe you know that. You’re also insanely smart,” Joshua counters.

“Whatever you say. But for the record, I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe a little dense, but that’s it.”

Joshua pouts. “Aren’t those basically the same thing?” You know he’s only being playful, but something about the way he says it makes you think twice. He’s being sweet. So sweet, it feels almost bitter.

“No. You have a smart head, Joshua. Honest. I think you just gotta learn how to use it,” you tell him, more softly this time.

“Thanks Sunshine,” he replies gruffly and you frown, realizing that your attempts to make him feel better haven’t quite worked.

“I’m serious. What? You don’t think I’m serious?” Joshua shakes his head, and you roll your eyes when you pick up the kitten yourself and pull her into your lap.

“You’re mean. So no, I don’t think you’re being serious.”

You gasp, using the hand that isn’t playing with the kitten to place it over your chest dramatically. “I am not mean. I’m just honest. I’m being honest right now.”

“Whatever,” Joshua quips, turning his nose and looking away pettily.

“Okay, are you actually upset?” you groan, cradling the kitten up to your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re more annoyed because you can’t tell if Joshua is upset, or because you might be the reason he’s upset.

“Who knows. Not that you would care.”

“I obviously care, because I’m asking,” you deadpan, letting the kitten roll around in your arms, letting out a squeak of surprise when one of its claws gets caught in the belt of your robe, making a tear in the silk.

Joshua gives you a funny look when he says, “You can be quite pestering when you want to.”

“Congratulations! You now know how I feel.”

“See what I mean! You’re mean. I want the kitten back.”

You clutch the little close to your chest and nuzzle your face into her neck. “No can do. I’m afraid she’s mine until you admit you know I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Oh my god, is this how it feels when I annoy you?” Joshua grumbles, throwing his head back. “Remind me to never pester you again. Ever.”

“Self awareness is great and all, but like I said, you’re not getting her until you admit it.”

“Fine. I don’t think you think I’m stupid. Happy?”

You hum and shake your head. “Mm, no. Gotta sound more convincing.”

Joshua knits his eyebrows together. “If you’re so insistent on this, then I guess it must be true. I don’t think you think I’m stupid,” he repeats, but his tone is gentler this time.

“Good work.”

Joshua stands tall on a hill. His broad shoulders are sharp with his straightened back and taught jaw. The sky is orange and you watch him from below, the clouds moving slowly above his head in the background.

He’s looking out at something, but you can’t quite tell what. It’s off in the distance, but his eyes are dilated and unwavering for a few long moments.

Wind whistles in your ear, and then the sky grows brighter and brighter until it’s no longer orange and suddenly turning yellow and then white. So white that it hinders your vision and you’re wincing through the light until you realize Joshua is not on the hill anymore.

You look around frantically to no avail—you can’t see anything but white with black spots in your vision and you feel like you’re going blind. And you want to scream but when you open your mouth no sound comes and the blowing of wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like you’re at the beach.

Looking around, you see your legs knee deep in ocean water and you’re no longer hearing the rampage of wind and instead the crashing of waves against rocks. There isn’t a hill anymore, there’s a cliff, but still no sight of Joshua.

It’s still so bright, so bright and you close your eyes tightly again until you feel a shade fall over your figure. A gasp escapes your lips when you see what’s above you.

Wide wings, ornate with white and golden feathers, perched over Joshua’s back as he hovers above you. He’s not looking anywhere else now, only you.

His face glows and then he smiles and you close your eyes one last time but when you open them again, all you see is darkness.

You’ve never been great at remembering dreams. More often than not, you wake up with no remnants of the life you lived in your head the night before, and on the rare occasions that you do happen to recall something, it’s only just random snippets that also hardly make sense.

Last night was no different, although you do wake up with an uneasy feeling, not because of what you dreamed about—you don’t remember that—but because you know you dreamed about Joshua. It’s just the wake up call you need to tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, you’re spending more time with him than you should.

It’s a Saturday morning as you trudge out of bed and to the kitchen, trying to settle the weird feelings that course through your veins when you see your mother brewing a pot of tea. “How’d you sleep?” she asks, not looking up from the boiling water.

Shrugging as you grab a home-grown orange, you respond, “Well enough.”

“Can’t believe they have you going to the palace on the weekends too … I never had to work on Saturdays or Sundays.”

You wonder how she brings up her time at the castle so casually—you don’t know if you’ll ever understand her. “I really don’t have to—I can work on my own schedule basically whenever, as long as I get the courtyard finished by the end of three months.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Behind schedule. Obviously. That’s why I’m heading in again.”

Your mother smiles and walks over, ruffling your hair. “I’m glad you’re working hard on this—I can tell you’re enjoying it, as much as you didn’t want to go there.”

“It’s nice, I guess. I get to be creative, and get paid. Really, getting the money is all I care about,” you tell her casually, taking the peel off the orange and popping a piece into your mouth.

“You don’t talk about it much, but I’m assuming people don’t give you that hard of a time? You always come home fine.”

They do, it just doesn’t happen to be anything you’re not used to. Your mind flashes to Joshua and Seokmin for a moment, and you’re once again reminded of the unnerving fact that you did dream about the former, and you can’t even remember what it was about. “Things are fine.”

You’re three tutoring sessions in with Joshua, and it’s finally the day that you pull out your own copy of The Waste Land. “Oh thank god,” he says with a breath of relief when he sees it. “This paper has been bugging me forever—if we didn’t get started on it soon I might’ve combust.”

“I appreciate the vivid imagery,” you say dryly, “but I really did not need to picture that in my head.”

“Sorry,” Joshua says with a shrug as you sit across from him. “So what’re we gonna do today, Sunshine?”

“Hmm, get through the first part hopefully. We can read it back and forth and talk about it together, so you can take notes. It might be easier that way, so you can get all your thoughts and ideas out, and then it’ll be easier for you to write that paper.”

“Sounds boring.”

“I guess I’ll just pack my stuff and—”

“Okay! Okay! I was just joking. Let’s start, please,” he complies easily, and you smirk as you sit back down.

“Good to hear. Read this part.”

You’re around an hour and a half into the lesson, still working through the first part as Joshua frowns when you finish another stanza.

“Do we have to keep going?” he whines.

“Yes we do. Let’s work with this part now. Read it out for me,” you instruct, pointing out a stanza on your own paper.

“Why—” You give him a look. “—okay fine.”

‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oed’ und leer das Meer.

When he’s done, Joshua looks up at you blankly. “If I’m being honest, I have zero clue what this means.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve said that every time you read a new section, but I know that’s not true, because you literally always come up with something.”

Joshua scrunches up his face and slaps his hands to his cheeks in frustration. “But now I’m being serious! This is making no sense to me—I hate Literature, okay? My brain is dead right now and I don’t think I can do any more Sunshine.”

“We’ve been doing this for less than two hours,” you say bluntly. “Look—you said you like Greek mythology right? Try and draw some connections. Maybe that’ll make this more enjoyable.”

“I hardly think T.S. Elliot could produce anything I enjoy,” Joshua huffs as he tilts the page so he can read it better, “But fine. I still don’t get what about this has anything to do with mytho—oh!”

“Finally! You get it?”

“Hyacinthus!” You nod eagerly, gesturing your hands to tell him to go on. “Uh, it was that story with Apollo. Shit, what was the story again?” He looks up and taps at his chin, but when you open your mouth to help him out, Joshua sticks a hand in front of your face and shakes his head. “No wait, I remember. The one where they were in love but Apollo accidentally killed him when they were playing a game!”

“You’re right. The blood of Hyacinthus was eventually turned into flowers by Apollo to honor his death or something like that. In the context of this poem … the giver of the hyacinth flower is almost like a sign of—”

Joshua snaps his fingers in the air and grins. “Forgiveness!”

“Well, not exactly giving forgiveness, but asking for it.”

“Kind of like … saying you’re sorry?” Joshua smiles brighter when you nod. “Holy shit, maybe I do enjoy T.S. Elliot.”

You roll your eyes and point at his notebook and pen. “Good, now write that down. You are going to have to write about this, remember?”

Joshua pouts, but picks up the pen nevertheless. “Whatever you say Sunshine.”

“Joshua told me to tell you that he thinks T.S. Elliot sucks,” Seokmin says, coming up to you in the cafeteria as you polish off your own tray. It’s a large and grand area—an old ballroom that turned into a commonplace for the workers.

Large mirrors plate the walls, and across from you, you can watch Seokmin’s reflection as he sits down next to you. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him, “He’s only saying that because I told him to write the paper himself.”

Seokmin furrows his eyebrows as he places a white box, a little larger than the size of your hand, on the table. Glancing around, you catch people in the mirror watching you with wavering gazes before turning away when they find you looking at them.

Huff lightly, you turn your attention back to Seokmin. “What’s this?”

“Joshua told me to give it to you.”

That’s new. Tentatively, you lift the lid a little to peek inside, only finding a haphazard mess of stuffing paper with something purple concealed underneath. “Would it be a smart decision to open it right now?”

“Oh my gosh, it’s not an explosive or anything.”

“You don’t know that!”

Seokmin rolls his eyes himself this time. “Yes I do. I packed it.”

“Ugh, even worse. I’m not opening it if you’re around. That’s embarrassing.”

“Is not! I think that you should—” Seokmin is cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, cursing under his breath when he sees the caller ID. For a moment, you consider peering over and taking a look, but Seokmin stands up too quickly. “I gotta go for a second. I’ll catch you before you leave!” he calls out when he’s already pushing his chair in and rushing off into the distance.

You laugh at his hurry, wondering what could possibly ensue such nervousness from the boy, but you quickly remind yourself that this is Seokmin and he gets the jitters when he even has to think about being around Mr. Park for more than twenty minutes.

Soon, you start to clean up your area yourself, putting your trays away and throwing away your trash in the weirdly fancy bins they have scattered around the hall. As your lunch break nears its end, you grab the oddly light box, your phone, and make your way back to 77.

The room is empty, safe for Jihoon who’s got his head buried in his laptop, and you think it’s a good time to check what’s inside. If it is an explosive, you’ll just have to apologize to Jihoon in the afterlife.

Opening the lid, those same, crumpled papers lay on top, but this time you notice a little white card in the middle. Pursing your lips, your eyes flicker to your side to see if Jihoon’s watching (he never is, but it doesn’t hurt to check), and when your privacy is confirmed, you flip the paper over.

There’s a message written in purple pen, adorning a handwriting that you can distinctly recognize as Joshua’s.

Thank you for all the help. I really owe you one.

You aren’t quite sure what he’s talking about, and you make a mental note to ask him about it when you see him later. Right now, you rummage through the papers, hands feeling the space beneath them before they land on a smooth layer of fabric.

Confused, you pull it out, only to see it’s a ribbon, much like the one tied around your own waist. Same color, same material, same emblem, the only difference being …

You glance down at your own robes where the ribbon has a small tear at one end from where the kitten had pawed at you. You have to blink a few times to realize what Joshua’s intentions were, and when you do, you can’t help the warm smile that begrudgingly makes its way onto your face.

Quickly, you tug the ends of the ribbon around your waist and let it unravel, taking the new ribbon and tying it just as your mother taught you. It’s the same thing as the one before, yes, but this is different. This is a gift.

Donning Joshua’s (your?) ribbon, you start to clean up your desk space and tuck your old ribbon back into your bag. You forgot to tell Seokmin you’re tutoring Joshua this afternoon, so as you pack up you text him a sincere ‘thank you’ message, and let him know that you might not be able to see him before you go. You don’t get a response, which is slightly odd since Seokmin seems to always be on top of things, but you shrug it off and remind yourself that he’s busy.

Today, you make your way down the smaller halls with a little skip to your step. Joshua showed you this pathway earlier so it’d be easier to get to his study room without being seen; it’s a nice little series of corridors that are a little dimmer and narrower, but still hold the lavish feel you always get walking through the palace.

You can hear the voices of a few people, but it seems quiet, hushed, and somehow a little heated—in other words, caught up in their own world. Being in the castle for almost two months now, you’ve learned to realize what kind of situations need your caution and which ones don’t. This is the latter.

You smile to yourself, smoothing your palms over the new, not-torn silk ribbon around your waist, as you near the second entrance to his study, about to enter another hallway to the final stretch and—shit.

When you turn a corner, your heart stops.

You turn back and run down the corridor. You don’t know if Seokmin saw you, and quite frankly, you don’t care.

It didn’t take you more than a second to put two and two together and suddenly you’re pushed back into your nine year old body—you don’t really know what’s happening or why it’s happening, all you know is that it hurts.

You’re going to have to apologize to Joshua for flaking on him. Surely he’ll understand that you were just a little bit upset by the sight you had to see.

After all, you did just witness Seokmin, quite literally your only real friend in this damn castle, speaking to Advisor Lee, the man who tore your mother’s life down. And now is when everything starts to click, because you realize that Seokmin is Advisor Lee’s son.

Of course he was close with Joshua—he probably grew up on these very castle grounds. Of course they attended the same classes—his father was the King’s advisor and cousin.

It makes sense now, and in your bleary haze as you make your way back to 77, you’re not sure what to do. You rush past a few other staff members murmuring under their breath when they see you, and you usually wouldn’t be bothered by the sight but now you remember that this is the first time you’ve cried since you got here, and it’s all because of that man who started this all in the first place.

As you lock yourself in one of the staff bathrooms, you catch your disheveled appearance and furiously wipe at your cheeks. Fuck. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t be crying over this, because god knows you did not spend years thickening your skin for it to be cut open like this.

You should’ve known. Should’ve fucking known.

You try to stop your tears, telling yourself that they’re all the same. That you shouldn’t have expected anything more from these people, that you should’ve picked up on how Seokmin was definitely someone important, that you should’ve never fallen for his and Joshua’s sweet games.

“Shit,” you gasp out as a sob rips from your throat, and you clutch the side of the sink as uneasiness bubbles up in your stomach and spreads through your limbs until you’re trembling.

Maybe you let him get so close because you thought he saw you for something else. Maybe you believed that he saw you as more than a pity project. More than someone who was defined by their past.

Joshua and Seokmin—they knew. They knew everything this whole damn time.

And now you’re angry—you’re so fucking angry. Tugging at your hair, ripping up your clothes, and thrashing your limbs around kind of angry. The kind of anger that poisons your bones and makes your body ache until you can’t take it anymore. The kind of anger that wraps its hand around your throat and squeezes the air out of you until you can do nothing but relent. The kind of anger that has you looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking, what the fuck.

The worst thing is you can’t even be mad at him. You want to be mad at him and you want to be mad at Joshua. You want to have the will to go up to them and slap the smiles off their faces because how dare Seokmin be the own flesh and blood of Advisor Lee, and how dare Joshua know and not have the guts to tell you.

Because after everything, Seokmin and Joshua were your friends and—fuck—they were some damn good friends. Your best friends, maybe, if you ever had the liberty to even know what that means.

And it wasn’t because they were overly nice, or excessively cheery, or because Seokim was always grinning and Joshua was always smirking, but because when they talked to you, they were talking to you, and not some shell of your past.

Finally, now, when you press your face into your hands as your last attempt to calm yourself down, you feel like you can breathe. You’re not sure where your head is at, and something tells you that it’s gonna take a damn long time to figure it out.

You’re a little lost.

You were just trying to get to the South end entrance of the courtyard but you must have taken a wrong turn or something because you’re walking down a corridor you’ve quite literally never seen before. It’s similar to the hallways of the rest of the palace, but it’s slightly taller and a bit more narrow, and the workers walking through wear faces that you aren’t familiar with. You’re a little nervous about where your feet are taking you, and you consider just turning around and retracing your steps when you hear a voice.

Seokmin’s voice is loud when he calls your name, and you press your lips together tightly when it rings in your ears. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come down to the South e—” he starts to say when walks up to you from a corridor to your left.

“Nothing,” you reply briskly, turning on your heel so your back is pretty much facing him. “I was just leaving actually.”

“What—hey! Slow down! Where’re you going?”

“77,” you mutter under your breath as you speed up your pace.

“Slow down!”

You don’t relent. “Seokmin, don’t you have stuff to do right now instead of following me around?” You can’t see the look on his face, but you can only imagine it’s one of defeat.

“I—” his voice is quieter this time, “Okay.”

The footsteps that were one following you die out, and as you browse the corners of your vision, you conclude that he’s finally left you alone. You should feel relieved—happy that he’s not bothering you now—but sometimes uneasy churns inside of you, and you aren’t sure what it is.

The rest of your day goes as it usually does in a palace. You tend to your work and as it hits late afternoon, you start making your way to Joshua’s study. Once again, you’re not sure where your head is at.

“Is everything alright?” Joshua asks you the second you walk in. “Seokmin told me you looked upset and wouldn’t talk to him so I—”

You inhale deeply before, putting your hands up in a stopping motion. “I can’t tutor you anymore.”

Joshua looks at you weirdly. “What, why?”

“Or talk to you,” you add.

“What—”

“Just—just don’t talk to me. Or ask me to tutor you. Or ask for my help, or ask to help me—you know what just like—I dunno, stay away from me.”

“Sunshine, where is this coming from?” Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose, and you don’t think he’s understanding the weight of his words.

“Why do you even talk to me?” you snap. “Like seriously, if you can bother any worker in the castle, why does it have to be me?”

Hurt flashes in Joshua’s face for hardly a second before he frowns deeply. “I—what’s going on?”

“Do you and Seokmin think this is funny? Being nice to me like—” You throw your hands in the air. “—like I’m some kind of joke?”

“What? No, Sunshine, what are you even talking about?”

“I know who Seokmin’s dad is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “So if Seokmin still wants to know why I don’t feel like talking to him, maybe consider telling him that I’m not interested in being around someone whose father is literally the reason me and my mom’s lives have been so fucked up.”

Joshua winces at the last statement. You’ve been irritated with him, annoyed with him, and all that petty stuff, sure, but this is different.

“Seokmin isn’t like that, okay? He isn’t—you know—like that.”

“And how would you know?” you snap. “Prince Joshua, what do you know about having people be, quote unquote, above you? You have everything in front of you, and when people look at you and Seokmin it’s not ‘cause of some fucked up scandal which pinned your mom as the kingdom’s slut of the century, it’s ‘cause they literally bow down to your presence and—”

Something tells you to stop yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you know you’re not actually angry at them. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so fucking tired of being angry all the time that you can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that when you finally look him in the eye, Joshua looks sad.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says meekly. “Seokmin should—we should’ve let you know earlier. I promise we didn’t be your friend just ‘cause of that,” he rambles. “I mean obviously we knew about it but we didn’t wanna bring it up because everyone was bringing it up and—I’m sorry. You know Seokmin isn’t like that.”

“And you?” you quip, but you know your retorts hold no weight. “How do I know you aren’t like—like that.”

Joshua falters and you watch him gulp. He looks tired and his lips are red from how hard he’s been chewing on them as you speak. “Y-you know,” his voice is quiet, “You know I’m not.”

You have your answer before you even have to think about it, but you pause for a few moments, waiting to respond. All that comes out is a shallow breath as you look down and squeeze your eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I just—” You sigh weakly. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” Joshua doesn’t respond—he knows you’re thinking.

You wonder what to do with yourself. You’re not angry. Not sad either. Uneasy? Maybe. It’s the uncertainty of it all. You don’t understand why you’re not mad, and you don’t understand why you want to forgive him so easily, but you’re starting to realize that you should stop trying to understand the things that might never make sense.

Finally, you nod. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry again. I guess we didn’t wanna make that whole thing all about you. Because like, you’re you, and whatever happened is separate.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Thank you.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

You glare at him. “Dipshit, no it wasn’t!”

“I’m taking this as a sign that you’re feeling better. Am I correct?”

You bite back a smile and shrug. “I guess.”

“Cool, ‘cause I think you’d like to know that my mom stopped by the courtyard the other day.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say? This is all for her isn’t it—hopefully she liked it.”

“Yeah no, she said it was great. She thought the patterns of the pathway were cool and so she asked me if I could figure out why they were designed like that and I said no. By the way, why did you design them like that?”

“There’s this song I like. It’s called Isohel, and when I first heard it, I liked it a lot,” you explain. “Searched up what it means and stuff and then a few weeks later I was taking some filler class for the credits and my professor goes on some tangent about god-knows-what, and somehow he brings up pictures of an isohel map. An isohel—it’s basically a line which maps out the places that have the same duration of sunshine. Pretty cool, I think.”

“Is that what the pathways are? Are they—what is it—an isohel?”

“Mhm. On an isohel map, they’re not always just lines—they come around full circle sometimes so it looks like these funky, squiggly ovals sometimes,” you ramble. “So I took one of those circle-ish things and broke it up and pieced it together like a pathway.”

“That’s really smart.” Joshua pauses. “You’re really smart.”

It’s not the first time someone’s told you that. Fuck, it’s not even the first time Joshua’s told you that, but it feels different now. He means it, you know it in your bones.

“I-I dunno,” you stammer. “I guess. It just relates to the theme of the sun. My mom taught me about it when I was younger—I loved the sun.”

“So that’s what the theme of your courtyard is? Me and Seokmin have been betting on that for ages.”

You scoff, “You guys bet on that? Seriously, do you have nothing better to do with your time?”

“Clearly not!” he shoots back, causing you to laugh. “Are you really feeling better now?” Joshua asks sincerely, and when you smile and nod, he grins. “Hey, I just realized you talked to me about your feelings—”

“Don’t mention it,” you snap gruffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua clicks his tongue and chuckles. “There’s the Sunshine I know.”

It’s the next day when you walk into 77. Jihoon’s desk is empty, Mr. Park is just about to leave as you enter and you bow to him quickly as you settle in your desk. Seokmin is in the corner watering the yarrows, seeming to not have noticed you yet.

You watch him closely, smiling softly when you notice he stops before he can overwater them. Quietly, you set your stuff down and Seokmin begins to talk. “Oh, Jihoon, Mr. Park was just looking for you—oh,” he cuts himself flat when he turns around and sees you.

You’re not sure what to do, because Joshua didn’t exactly tell you if he told Seokmin about your conversation and what not, but the look on Seokmin’s face is telling you that he’s just a little behind on the news.

“Hey,” you say casually, throwing a hand up to wave at him as you set your bag down on your desk. Seokmin opens his mouth and then closes it a few times, as if he’s searching for the right words but they don’t quite come out for a few moments.

“Joshua told me that, uh, you know that—” He pauses and glances at you, trying to watch for any hints of anger on your face, but none comes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a shrug, and Seokmin has to blink twice because he’s not sure he heard you correctly at all.

“W-what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I said don’t worry about it,” you state again, and then add more softly, “You’re not your father. I get it.” You get it more than anyone. “Anyways, did you get the workers to start planting the hyacinths?”

Seokmin shakes his head once to snap himself back into reality and then shakes his head again a second time. “Wait no, I mean—wait, yes! I mean yes! I did do that—I should go remind them to get on that,” he rambles quickly, clearly a little flustered.

You chuckle. “It’s good to see you’ve been watering the yarrows properly now. Mr. Park finally beat it into you?”

“Y-yeah I guess. I’ve been getting better at remembering them all,” he tells you, starting to fall into a more casual tone. It’s normal, you think. Nice and normal. Nice and normal and just what you need.

“What are you doing here?”

When you turn around with your bag slung over your shoulder, you’re surprised to see Joshua. “Um, working?”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he states, lips pinched together in a funny expression, like he can’t figure you out.

“I think I know that,” you chuckle. “I didn’t know if I could come in on Monday—I need to stop by the university campus for something—so I just came in today to take care of some stuff.”

“You’re a dedicated worker huh … you should just work here forever—the pay is great.”

“Mm, I’m not sure about that,” you say honestly as you look him up and down. It strikes you now that Prince Joshua truly is a handsome man. Dark velvety robes that are even more grand than the ones you’re used to seeing on him, well fit dress pants against his legs and shiny leather shoes that seem to fit his image perfectly. “Anyways, I heard there’s a ball tonight? You’re not going?”

Joshua shrugs as he turns around and starts walking, waving you over to follow him. “C’mon follow me.” You contemplate your choices before telling yourself, what’s the worst that could happen, scurrying on after him. “I left—it got boring, so I got about twenty-five minutes before someone calls me and asks me to come back. My bets are on it being Seokmin ‘cause he’ll get bored.”

You snort at that as the familiarity of this route starts to sink in. “Hey are we going to my …”

“Yeah. Seokmin told me you finally got it named, and I want to check it out.”

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur bashfully—you hadn’t expected Joshua to be that interested in it. You walk through the empty corridors to the hallway that has the North entrance of the courtyard, and Joshua cranes his neck up to look at the golden plaque that rests above the entrance.

“Sol Invictus, huh.”

You nudge him on the side playfully. “You know what that means, Mr. Latin Genius?”

“Of course I do,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. “Sun god, or whatever,”

“God of sun, but you were close enough I guess,” you mutter as you walk through. The courtyard looks different in the night. It’s nearly done, and as the little warm lights you had placed in intervals along the path light up the scene, you can’t help but feel overwhelming pride with how well you’ve done.

“C’mon, let’s sit here,” he says, pointing down at the circular patch of grass that surrounds the pond in the middle. Joshua sits down first and you watch him carefully before quickly sitting next to him as well.

The grass is cool under your skin, but as a comfortable silence envelopes you and Joshua, you start to think you really don’t mind.

“I think lots of people think I’m stupid or something,” Joshua finally speaks up, and some uncomfortable feeling boils in your stomach at the words. “You know, the only thing people usually compliment me on is my fencing, really. And fencing is one of those things that, if you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you sort of gotta be good at it.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I know. Thank you.” There’s a silence as he reaches over the stone lining of the hyacinth beds, plucking a few from the shrubs.

“Joshua!” you complain. “I had those planted just last week.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, handing the two he plucked to you. You don’t hesitate to keep your palms open for him, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms as he does so. You rub the smooth petals between your fingers and a thumb, bringing one close to your chest before taking the other and handing it back to Joshua.

He looks at you, eyes clearly confused, but holds it to his own chest anyways. With your hands behind you on the ground, you lean back and look up at the sky, letting your shoulders relax. The night air pinches at your skin, but the soft fabric of Joshua tuxedo is warm as it brushes next to you.

“Why’d you name this pond Eridenus?” Joshua asks, pointing at the plaque by the pebble lining which spells out the word in fancy lettering.

“You don’t know where it’s from?” you sigh, lifting your head so you can shoot him a stern look. Joshua rolls his eyes and nudges your cheek with his shoulder, motioning you to lean back down at him.

“You know I’m a rascal—I’m forgetful. Tell me what it means.”

“It’s confirmed: you’re a fake mythology fan. I’m suing the universe.” Joshua chuckles and pokes you, egging you to go on. “Do you remember the story of Phaethon?”

Joshua hums. “Uh, son of Helios. Didn’t believe that he was his son. Asked to ride his carriage but lost control and almost burned the Earth?”

You shrug. “Well that’s most of it I guess. He’s racing down to the earth and everything is chaos—rivers boiling, forests on fires, people turning to ash—and so Zeus throws his bolt at him and kills Phaethon right in the sky.”

“Kind of like the story of Icarus. But the opposite I guess. Instead of getting too close to the sun, he brings the sun too close to the earth.”

“You could put it like that. They have the same meaning, I think. But anyways, Phaethon falls out of the carriage and as he dies he falls into this river called Eridenus.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s voice is quiet as you both watch the gentle water lap back and forth in front of you. The small waves hitting the stone barriers of the pound is the only sound that permeates the night sky, besides your shared breaths and the occasional whistling of wind.

“It’s kind of like—” You.

“Don’t say it.” Joshua’s words are crisp and short, and he doesn’t look at you. You want to say the words—I’m sorry—but they get stuck in your throat and ripple through your limbs as you scoot closer to him.

“Anyways,” Joshua finally says, but the word is only followed with silence.

“I think you need to get back to the ball,” you tell him quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your skin burns from where it was previously pressed against him and you silently chide yourself for letting yourself get so close.

Joshua finally turns to face you, and you’re surprised when he chuckles. “So eager to get rid of me, Sunshine?” You scoff, pushing him away gently.

“I-I just don’t want you to get in trouble!” you stutter as you push yourself off the ground, Joshua following suit.

“Aw, so you care about me?” His eyes crinkle up in that familiar way when he says it and you can’t help the childish grin that makes its way onto your face.

“More like I don’t want you to complain to me about how you got scolded!”

“Mm, sounds a lot like you care about me,” Joshua counters, returning your smile with one of his own. You roll your eyes and carefully skip in your dress toward the exit on the North end of the courtyard.

When you almost trip over your robes, Joshua catches you and his rough palm presses against the small of your back as you regain your balance, the two of you giggling together as he drops you off at 77 before heading to the ballroom.

It’s almost laughable how happy you are. Silly you for forgetting that fairytales don’t happen in real life.

The walls look brighter, the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling seem to glitter a bit more, the ground seems smoother; you enjoy walking through the castle in a way you never thought you could.

It’s a normal evening and you’re nearing the end of your time at the castle, but you choose to ignore the odd feeling you get when you think too long about leaving this place. There’s still more work to get done, and you don’t want to spend your time focusing on things that you know will only distract you.

You’re in the middle of Sol Invictus today, looking through a paper and phone as you go through some old plans and checklists, trying to figure out if there is anything you should do before you pack your bags and head towards Joshua’s study.

Just as you’re about to unclick your pen and tuck your things away and head back to 77, someone speaks to you from behind.

“A lovely courtyard we have here.” You know this voice. Everyone knows this voice.

Your blood runs cold as you turn around and face the King, neck craning down immediately as you bow down, stepping away while you hold your hands behind your back.

“G-good evening sir,” you stutter, almost tripping over the stone of your own pathways when you stand up and straighten your back. It’s your first time in years seeing him in person, and you tell yourself as your stomach churns that this was bound to happen at some point.

“Care to tell me about what you’ve got going on here?” he asks, walking around the little stone circle that surrounds Eridenus. “You’re the head of the project, is that right?”

“Yes sir,” you reply quickly, bowing again slightly when he finally goes full circle stopping next to you. His hands are behind his back as you watch him look over the almost complete fields of flowers. “I—uh—it’s called Sol Invictus,” you say. “The—”

“God of Sun.”

“Y-yes sir. Apollo and Helios,” you begin to explain. “Which is why I’ve used these flowers—they’re from one of Apollo’s love stories. They’re quite beautiful, if you ask me, and they fit the kingdom’s colors well.”

The King hums in response. “That’s interesting,” he finally tells you, looking down at Eridenus in front of you. You follow his gaze, staring down at the clear water as you feel your heart rise to your throat in anticipation. You don’t really know what you expect, but if you were preparing yourself for anything, it wasn’t the King saying, “It’s my understanding that you talk to Prince regularly, is that right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and lodges there along with your heart. “Well, I wouldn’t say—”

“I was speaking to Mr. Park just yesterday.” Oh. “You seem to be a very smart, professional young lady, and it shows in your work.” This can’t be good. “However, I am obligated to remind you: there are boundaries within these walls between the family and its staff.”

“Of course sir. I understand.”

The King watches you carefully, and just when you think he's done, he continues. “There are guards around the castle at all times. there isn't much they miss, I’m sure you know.” This isn't good. This really isn't good.

“It's quite impressive,” you agree, thumbs pressed against each other behind your back. You hear the king take a deep breath, and you wonder if he sucked the air out of you doing so.

"I've heard the pond here is named Eridenus.”

"Y-yes sir."

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Phaeton asked for a bit more than he could handle, didn’t he?" the King chuckles but you hardly hear it over the way your heart pounds. "Let mistakes be learned from, alright?"

You feel your knuckle might buckle. Is this how your mother felt? All those years ago?

The King’s words aren’t nearly as harsh as the advisor who berated your mother, but still, your body sways—you can’t tell if it’s all in your head with all the thoughts that race through, or if it’s the sheer weight of his words that has you almost stumbling.

“It was good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed what you’ve done with this space,” he comments finally, and you step away to face him 

“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you bid, bowing as he turns and walks back to his assistants who whisk him away. You watch the King fade into the distance and disappear to the North end.

He spoke to you for a reason, and the King was right. You are smart. You are smart and professional, and tonight, you know exactly what you must do.

“We need to talk,” you state firmly, closing the door behind you in Joshua’s study. You’re supposed to tutor him tonight, and he doesn’t look up at you as he writes away in his notebook, a smirk making its way onto his face as he starts to speak.

“That’s all I get, Sunshine? No ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” he teases, but then he looks up at you and catches the grim look on your face and the sound of him dropping his pen echoes through the room. “What is it?”

He stands up so quickly that his chair falls down, but Joshua pays no mind to it, his hands gripping the end of his table as his eyes bore into yours. “What is it?” he asks again and this time he’s hissing it. You know he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but your heart sinks even further than you could imagine.

“Joshua,” and when you say it, your voice is meek. You shouldn’t cry over this—fuck, you hate crying, especially if it’s because of his people. You’ve done more than enough crying over them in your life—you can’t cry over any of this anymore.

“Sunshine, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Joshua eggs you on worriedly, moving away from his desk so he can walk over to you. One hand cups your cheek, and you’re struck by the realization that this is the most intimate he’s ever been with you.

What unfortunate circumstances, you think.

“Your father,” you say, having half a mind to push his hand away from your face, but you keep it there because you don’t think you’ll have the will to keep on talking if he’s not touching you.

“What about him?” Joshua asks hastily, grip on your jaw tightening.

“He knows, Joshua, he knows.”

“What are you talking about?” Joshua furrows his eyebrows and asks the question but there’s that voice in his head telling him that he already knows the answer.

“A guard saw us at the courtyard and—”

“We didn’t even do anything,” Joshua tries to protest and with just one look at his face, you can tell he’s trying to figure out ways to rebut whatever that stupid guard saw that night.

“Joshua, you know we can’t do anything about this,” you say exasperatedly, your voice a little louder now that you clutch the elbow of his arm that’s holding your face. “I overheard him talking to Mr. Park.”

Joshua’s eyes widen. “Mr. Park knows? What about your job? Are you going to get to finish the project? Are you—”

“Joshua,” you choke out, and for once you cannot stop your tears. “I don’t care about my goddamn project, I care about you.”

“You love that courtyard,” Joshua argues, and you wince at the way he’s still thinking about that damn courtyard. You brush his hand off of you and for a second it looks like his heart has just broken in two, but then you reach for his face and hold his cheeks with your own two hands.

His skin is smooth and supple with the light grain of stubble that itches against your palm near the underside of your jaw. “Joshua,” you whisper, and it’s now that you feel the warm drops of water hit your skin. Joshua is crying and you don’t think you’ve seen anything that saddens you more. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you beg, fruitlessly wiping away his tears as he silently cries into your hands.

“Why’re you acting like this is the end?” he hiccups and he must hate the sound because he slaps a hand over his mouth and buries his face into it.

“Joshua, no,” you murmur and pull him into you so that his hands can fall and you can cradle his head into your neck, letting your own tears drip onto the silk of his shirt. “It’s not the end,” you try to reason, but he pulls his head away to look down at you with glassy eyes.

“You—you’re lying to me,” Joshua says harshly.

“What are you talking about, I don’t—”

“I know you. I-I—fuck—I fucking know you,” he spits out, causing you to falter backwards. “Why do you think we can’t work this out? I’m the prince, I can—I can change everything and we can be together—”

“Your father —”

“Who gives a fuck, I’ll be king soon anyways and—”

“What if he does something?! What if he revokes your title?”

You’re met with stillness and you think Joshua might just comply with your silent plan but suddenly he’s shaking his head vigorously.

“Okay, then let him. I don’t care about being prince, I—”

“You can’t throw your life away Joshua, not for me!” you protest, holding his face again so you can focus his gaze on yours.

“It’s my life—why, why not?”

“Because I love you. And you can’t sacrifice this—this amazing life—for me!”

“I-I can’t—I don’t,” he stumbles and searches for words as tears fall from his lashes and roll down your hands, your wrists, your arms, “—can’t do it, not without you.”

“You’ve been doing it for years, Joshua, you’ll learn,” you tell him, using one hand to grip his cheek, the other to wipe away at your own.

“You don’t love me,” he chokes out. “You—you wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me.”

“Don’t say that, please.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes because you can’t bear to look at his tear-streaked cheeks any longer. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can’t help but think that this is the calm before the storm.

“We’ll work it out,” Joshua finally whispers, pulling his head back and cradling the back of your neck with his hands. You don’t say anything, and Joshua doesn’t give you the chance anyway. “Let me have you,” he begs. “We’ll work everything out and it’ll be okay,” he says over a strangled sob, “Just—just be with me tonight.”

And so when you nod, he wipes his tears and pokes his head out of the study to make sure the corridor is empty before tugging your wrist and pulling you to his room. It’s big and grand, just as you’d expect for the prince but Joshua doesn’t want you to look at the intricate walls or the tall ceilings or the golden furniture.

Joshua makes you focus on his burning touch and lets you explore his mouth, his body. And stripped, your bodies are so hot and with wet lips against sheen skin, you feel you might melt into each other’s bones.

Teeth against teeth, nails scraping against skin so hard it digs into the muscle, bruising holds, and sloppy kisses—the feeling is so intense and it crashes onto you and Joshua so hard that you have no other choice but to grip onto each other as you would a lifeline.

And your bodies move so languidly through the sheets, like waves against a shore, or like the wind whistling through the air, until you're trembling and drifting off in each others’ arms.

It would have been perfect. Perfect, if only Joshua had woken up and you were next to him.

Joshua is lost.

After a frantic hour of running around the palace, asking if anyone had seen you, looking for Seokmin to see if he had any answers, Joshua finds himself in the middle of Sol Invictus. And he racks his brain for answers, for a smidge of anything that gives him a reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t in his arms this morning.

Joshua is lost.

He’s staring at the ground now, and all Joshua can wonder is if it was all a dream. If that moment you both looked out his glass window at the stars before you kissed him on his bed was just a figment of his imagination.

He wonders if you actually did thread your soft fingers through his messy hair and hold him close as both hit your peaks together, and he wonders if your lips really did ghost over his skin as he drifted off into sleep.

Joshua almost doesn’t feel Advisor Lee’s hand on his shoulder. He only hears his voice, really, and when he does, the sound grates against his ears.

“She’s gone.” Advisor Lee’s voice has always been harsh, and Joshua wonders how the same man could’ve produced something—someone—as lovely as Seokmin.

“What are you talking about?” Joshua is good at feigning ignorance, but his voice still quivers.

“I know. Your father and mother know too.”

Joshua is lost.

Joshua’s eyes snap up and suddenly his hands are at Advisor Lee’s collar. When the older man doesn’t seem surprised, Joshua sags. “What the fuck do you know. What—” He inhales sharply as he lets go and steps back, inching closer to Eridenus. “—what did you do to her?”

“She left herself.”

“What are—” Joshua heaves. “What?”

He’s doing it before he even realizes it. Stumbling toward Eridenus with his lungs and heart mushed together so tight he’s got a hole in his chest, Joshua steps over the stone lining and crashes into the shallow water.

Seokmin’s face pales when he walks in on the scene. Coming into the courtyard from the South end, he sees Joshua’s figure before he even recognizes it’s him.

That’s not Joshua, he thinks as he watches his father stand in front of Eridenus where the prince sits. That’s not Joshua.

Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp and his eyes are bright. Joshua’s smile is full and his hands are always ready to love.

This isn’t Joshua, and Seokmin feels it in his gut when he approaches Eridenus.

Joshua sits in the middle of the pond. His knees are bent and the cold water stops at the middle of his chest, leaving the upper third of his body dry. His royal coat and velvet pants, his polished shoes and silk button up, are submerged and rub against the algae coated rocks on the bottom of Eridenus.

Advisor Lee doesn’t speak as Seokmin stands next to him, Eridenus in front of the two with the prince in the middle. Joshua doesn’t say a thing. In fact, it seems like he doesn’t even know Seokmin is here now. His neck is tilted down and he stares at his soaked slacks blankly.

Seokmin is stunned.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp but now they are hunched over and hardly moving, even as he breathes short breaths through his pale lips.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s eyes are always bright but now they are dull and dead. Seokmin knows Joshua’s eyes are always bright, but he failed to realize what exactly it was that was lighting them up.

Seokmin thought it was the sun but he was wrong, because even now, as Joshua sits under broad daylight, he is still and his eyes are dull.

Two weeks since you’ve seen Joshua’s face and you miss his smile.

You miss his smile, the one that crinkles up all the way to his eyes when he laughs at one of your snarky comments. The one that shines his teeth and the one that seemed to never leave your sight when you were with him.

You miss his smile, but his laugh still rings in your ear, early in the mornings when you blink awake and late in the nights when you gasp in hearty breaths and try not to cry. When you take the walk through the city to your work at Mr. Min’s bookshop, the ringing of the street vendors’ bells are bright and cheery, and sometimes you can hear Joshua’s laugh in the mix.

One month since Joshua last looked you in the eye and he wishes he didn’t know why you left. He wishes he was oblivious, because then he could be angry at you—he could have a reason to forget, to move on, to stop loving you.

Joshua knows why you left and it hurts more than anything because this is nothing like a betrayal at all. You left because you love him, and Joshua cannot dispute that—not now, not ever.

Sometimes he walks through Sol Invictus and plucks a hyacinth, letting it blow off into the wind. He hopes you’ll find the lost petals one day.

Two months since you’ve been in the castle and your life is normal. Well, as normal as it can get for you.

Your first semester of the new year started a few days ago, and you’ve since moved into an apartment near your campus. Your mother thinks it’ll be good for you, and you understand her sentiment but you don’t think she understands.

Ironic, you think. You’ve gone full circle, really. Maybe it does run in your blood, like all the whispers said.

You realize you’re okay with that. Maybe you made a mistake with Joshua, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you almost royally fucked up your reputation more than it already was (thankfully, the Royal Counsel was better at keeping it under the wraps this time), maybe no one cares. Maybe your life is a little bit more messed up now, but again—you’re okay with that.

You miss Joshua. You don’t think you’ll ever stop missing him. You’re also okay with that. You’re starting to realize that you’re okay with pretty much anything when it comes to Joshua. And once again, you’re okay with that.

Six months since he’s seen you and Joshua’s chest aches. Partly because he was distracted during fencing and took a jab straight in the middle but mostly because he misses you.

He stands on the balcony of the royal dining hall, waiting for lunch to be served as he looks over the palace and the kingdom that spread beyond. Joshua sees the tall buildings, the rows of houses, and the infamous Hong University that lay in the middle of the commontown around the hill the castle sits on, and he wonders.

You told him you’d be taking an astronomy class this semester, which should have started a month ago. Joshua is old enough and smart enough to know that collegiate astronomy is more than just the moon and the sun and the pretty little dots that button the sky, but still, he wonders.

The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.

Will you think about him?

Joshua doesn’t need to wonder—he knows.

The sun is bright today and even though it’s winter, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. It’s a bit of a rare occurrence for the cold months, but Joshua doesn’t mind. When he looks at the blue sky and briefly glances at the sun, his shadow on the stone floor, the reflection of light against the railing, Joshua breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs deeply.

He knows.

Eight months and you still hear Joshua’s laugh.

You hear it when wind whistles in your ear as you walk to a flower shop to buy a pot. You hear it when you look up at the sun and imagine you’re in the middle of Sol Invictus. You hear it when you crouch down on your balcony, placing the little hyacinth into the pot and packing soil around the base.

You miss Joshua, you miss his smile, and more than anything, you miss his laugh. Right now, as you bathe in the memories of a man so far yet so close, you realize that you can miss him all you want, but you won’t forget. You can’t ever forget.

Ten months later and Joshua’s chest still aches, but he’s okay with that.

He sucks in heavy breaths as his lungs search for air on the fencing match, his trainer leaving the room, leaving Joshua after his request to take a break. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Joshua hardly hears the door behind him open.

“Mingyu told me you’ve been struggling with fencing recently,” his mother says, approaching him. Joshua shuffles in his fencing gear, throwing his helmet to the side.

“I’ve just hit a stump.”

“Something tells me this is more than just a stump,” she inquires as Joshua kicks off his boots.

Joshua scoffs, “What makes you say that?”

“Joshua, what’s wrong?”

He pauses, about to pull off his gloves when he looks up at the Queen. “Everyone in the Royal Counsel knows. I’m sure you know too.”

His mother sighs heavily when he stands up, and she follows him out the training room and toward the Residency Quart. There’s a silence that gaps the mother and son—not that Joshua isn’t used to it. He still smiles and grins, he hugs and he bows, and oftentimes it is genuine, but there’s a silence that always follows. A silence that he never forgets.

A silence he holds when he watches the same kitten you held cross his path when he walks through Sol Invictus, slightly bigger but just as nimble and heart warming. A silence he holds when his eyes gloss over the set of Percy Jackson books in the shelves of his room. A silence he holds when he sinks into his covers and presses his nose to the sheets, wondering if he’ll ever be able to taste your skin on his tongue again.

“I won’t ever understand what went on between you two,” his mother finally says.

“There isn’t anything for you to understand,” Joshua tells her, heading towards his room, but his mother stops him and he narrows his eyes. “What? I felt bad for her, alright? When I saw her all those years ago when it all happened out in the gardens—”

“Joshua, what are you talking about?”

“That’s what you want to know, right? Why I talked to her? Why I—I love her?” His mother gives him a stern look, but Joshua doesn’t relent. He’s starting to realize he’s been too comfortable with this silence. “I never asked you to understand it, but I’ll tell you anyway. Maybe because I pitied her or felt sorry for her or all the same stuff, and maybe I didn’t think she deserved to be ostracized for something she never did but—whatever. I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you to leave it alone.”

“You’re my son, Joshua.”

The Queen is Joshua’s mother and she doesn’t understand. She may never understand, and Joshua is okay with that because if he’s being honest, he doesn't think anyone will ever understand. He’s okay with that too.

You will understand, and for him, that’s enough.

You get two letters from the Royal Counsel in your lifetime. You received the first over a year ago—the one you opened with Mr. Min standing across from you in his little bookstore under dingy lights and over the dusty counter. The one you crumpled up and tossed into the dustbin without as much as a second though. The one that led you down a long, winding path which brought you to Joshua.

You receive the second now, standing in your apartment as you look down, except this time you aren’t staring at a paper, you’re staring at the screen of your laptop. You giggle quietly to yourself; Joshua must have taken the Royal Counsel up on still sending letters.

You’ve only looked at the subject of the email so far. It’s got your name and the word “request” written in bold, and you wonder what they want.

Glossing over the text, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. “The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.” Same shit, huh? “You will have the opportunity to lead a project as you please and earn a notable compensation in payment for your efforts.” Yeah, pretty much.

It’s the same thing, you realize. They want you back—for what, you aren’t sure, but you have a feeling that it doesn’t really matter. Because signed, at the bottom of the email isn’t the usual, “Hong Royal Counsel,” but instead is, “Hong Royal Family.”

The little sun emblem sits below the signatures of the King and Queen, and you press your eyes shut and hold the screen close to your chest, silently praying under your breath that is not a dream.

You don’t know what happened, don’t know what Joshua told them, but to be frank, you don’t care. You’re smart enough to read between the lines.

I don’t understand, they're telling you, But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

It’s your first day at the castle. Well, your second first day.

When you park your car at the base of the hill, you smile down at the silk over your waist. You abandoned the new ribbon sent to you by the Court, instead donning the one that came to you in a little white box ten months ago. Sometimes, when you hold it close enough, you still think you can smell Joshua’s skin.

You wonder how long you’ll have to wait for him, but as you look up at the sky, you have your answer.

Something speaks to you when you return to 77. Mr. Park is still gruff and cranky but you swear you see the peek-a-boo of a smile on his lips when you walk in. Jihoon’s there too, he greets you regularly.

And of course there’s Seokmin who is hugging you so tight, it reminds you that he is a full grown man and not a child trapped in a large body. You think he almost cries when he laughs with you about how he almost killed the yarrows again (but he brought them back to life! Trust!), and then he beams and tells you that you gotta check out Sol Invictus.

It’s beautiful.

Bright hyacinths that line from east to west and your heart is happy because Seokmin told you he’d get everyone to finish planting them and he did. The purple petals let wind whistle through its stems and leaves, the rustling echoing off the walls of the castle that surround Sol Invictus.

The water of Eridenus gleams under the sun, the stone of your pathways glows brightly, and as your eyes flicker around, you notice something new. In each corner field of Sol Invictus, sits a medium sized sculpture, each of a pegasus but all slightly different in pose and manner.

And then you see him, his back facing you, standing in front of one of the statues that sits in one of the fields on the west end.

Walk the line.

Tracing the pathways—your pathway—from East to West with your shoes clacking their short heels against the tiles—you know he can hear you, but still, he doesn’t move. His hands are neatly holding each other behind his back as his neck tilts slightly upward to stare up at the pegasus.

“Aethon, Aeos, Pyrois, and Phlegon,” Joshua says when you finally stop next to him, shoulders barely brushing against each other. “This one is Pyrois.”

“Helios’ pegasi,” you murmur, glossing over the fine details and intricacies of the statue.

“I thought you might like them.”

You don’t say anything for a moment and grin, watching his eyes light up from the corner of your vision. “I love them.”

“Thank god. You were taking so long to respond, I thought you were going to yell at me for fucking up Sol Invictus.”

You laugh and shake your head, both of you shuffling as you face each other.

“Hi,” you say so lightly it comes out as a breathy laugh when you both finally look each other in the eye.

“Sunshine.” Joshua smiles, holding out his hand. The light is warm when it hits your skin, and Joshua’s dark hair glints a light brown under the beams. You take his hand and run your fingers over the calluses of his palm; his skin is warm when his fingers grasp around yours and as you look at his eyes, you feel it in your bones.

This is Joshua, this is Joshua, and every path you follow will always lead you back to him.

edit. thanks 4 making it this far! if ur interested i expand on the concept of an isohel more here and little tidbits here, and it's honestly just a ramble but i hope it makes clear why i made some decisions w the story if ur interested :3 a/n. aaah it's done! as per em's request, i will be posting a one-shot of these two and their lives in the future bc i feel like i robbed u guys of a possibly fluffier ending so keep an eye out for that ... anyways, i hope u enjoyed, comments / reblogs would mean the world to me and >_< thank u for reading!

taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @nishloves @woozarts (strikethrough could not be tagged)

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spring walk with seungkwan 🌸

LAVENDER — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐

summary. you really don’t want seungcheol to go to work, so you give him a million reasons to stay at home with you.

wc. 3.7k+

warnings. whew… dom!cheol, teasing, very needy f!reader, morning sex, f. masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of dirty talk, pussy drunk cheol <3 rough but very passionate sex, size kink if you squint, heavy praise, heavy use of pet names [pretty/sweet girl, baby, love] (im not sorry) — MINORS DNI 18+

note. happy birthday to cheolhub (not me, my account. she turns 1 today ^^) we will celebrate with a self indulgent fic. i was blinded by need for him one morning a while back and then BOOM, this was born. so here u guys go, i hope u enjoy. p.s. the title has nothing to do with the fic, stream lavender by dreamer boy :p

early mornings are the absolute worst for seungcheol. the tedious morning routine, watching the sun peek from the bleak, dark sky, and worst of all, parting from you. he hates leaving you before you can even form a coherent thought, body wracked with last night's sleep. he hates leaving you ‘cus you look so adorable while you’re drooling over your pillows, whining at him to get back in bed.

but this morning was different. normally, you’d be sound asleep by the time he had to leave, but you had been tossing and turning all night so by the time seungcheol’s alarm had gone off, you were well awake. you frown at him as he takes a deep sigh, forearm coming to rest on his forehead once he snoozes the alarm. 

you scoot closer to him, snuggling into his side and wrapping an arm around his naked torso. he hums at your touch, “g’morning, baby,” his raspy voice sends a shiver up your spine.

“nothin’ good about this morning,” you mumble passively, pressing your face further into his side. 

cheol raises an eyebrow. you sound too awake this morning. “did you sleep at all?” he pressed, noticing the lack of tiredness in your voice. the arm on his forehead comes down to wrap around your frame. he takes your vow of silence as a no and he whines cutely at you, “angel, why didn’t you wake me?”

“‘cus you had to wake up early, cheollie,” you pout. “and i didn’t wanna bug you.” 

“you could do no such thing,” he defends, his hand rubbing your hip. “why couldn’t you sleep?” 

you shrug, shyly. you could tell him about how you had imagined him fucking you all day yesterday and how you needed him horribly while he was at work, but your embarrassment keeps you from admitting your desperation. 

but, cheol is smart. maybe a bit too smart. especially when it comes to you. he can read you like an open book, knows you like the back of his hand. 

“aw, was my pretty baby horny?” he coos feeling the way you wordlessly nod your head into his side. “yeah?”

“yeah… missed you all day yesterday,” you murmur, pressing chaste kisses to his naked, warm skin. “ needed you so bad, but you seemed tired when you got home… ‘n, like i said, i didn’t wanna bug you, so,”

seungcheol shakes his head disapprovingly as he maneuvers his body to hover over yours. “what did i just say? you could never bug me, Y/N.” he reprimands and you pout once more. “tell me what you need, baby, hmm?” his voice drops an octave and you feel yourself melt to putty. “what does my pretty baby need?”

the sheer dominance that emits from his body has your insides churning in anticipation. “need you…” you can barely breathe out. 

he chuckles, “yeah? ‘m right here, love.” the lilt to his voice signals he’s teasing and you let out a soft whine. “did you need anything else?”

“need you in me,” you exhale.

“that so?” he questions, raising his eyebrow, feigning awareness, “i dunno baby, doesn’t seem like you actually need me…”

you squirm under him, your panties soaking as his patronizing tone arouses you to no end. “please, i do,” you whimper. “i need you so bad, cheol, please.”

his breath hitches and his previous teasing manner suddenly vanishes. before he can say anything, though, his second alarm rings indicating he has to get ready. forreal this time. 

you’re saddened at the thought of him leaving… it would be totally selfish of you to provoke him, right? especially so early in the morning while he should be getting ready for work… 

but he did say that you could never bug him…

“cheollie,” you mumble. “can’t you call in for the morning? just go in a lil late?” you ask, hopeful. 

the sigh that he lets slip his lips is one you know all too well. it’s a heavy sigh that comes right before he’s about to tell you something disappointing. something you don’t want to hear. “baby…”

you deflate before he says anything else, huffing out, “fine.” he smiles at the pout that etches into your lips but it’s quickly wiped off his face when you sulk out your next words, “guess i’m just gonna have to fuck myself all day while you’re gone.” 

“huh…is that so, baby?” his soft tone is gone, replaced with one that makes you immediately submit to him. he leans into you, a sinister smile creeping back onto his face as thoughts roam through his mind. “yeah? gonna shove those pretty little fingers in your cunt and pretend it’s me making you feel good?”

you exhale sharply, gulping when you feel your throat dry up. “y-yeah.” your stutter doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, yet he plays along with your cute little game. 

“guess that means i don’t have to make you cum this morning then, huh?” 

you gasp, snapping your head back to look at him, eyes filled with regret. “what?! wait, no, no, i-i want–”

he cuts off your stuttering while wearing a faux pout, “what happened, baby? i thought you wanted to fuck yourself? i think you should go for it, you don’t need me.”

“no, cheol, i do– i’m sorry, i do need you.” you tell him feebly, a whine following your words. 

he coos, “aw, really? then why don’t you show me, sweet girl.” 

“but you’re gonna be late–”

“don’t worry about that, baby, just go ahead and touch yourself for me.”

you whimper, nodding your head. you hook your fingers into the elastic bands of your sleep shorts and wet panties, lifting your hips up to pull the thin pieces of fabric off your body. your heated core is now exposed to the cool air, chilling your feverish body the second it fans over your cunt. 

seungcheol can see the way your pussy glistens with the soft light peeking in through the window. blood rushes straight to his cock and it throbs almost painfully under his loose shorts. he doesn’t feel like going all the way to work like this, nor does he want to be there with the thought of you touching yourself without him. 

your hand trails down to your pussy, two of your fingers finding your clit. your eyes flutter close, shifting and getting comfortable on the bed before moving faster. 

your eyes don’t need to be open to see him staring intently at you. you can feel his gaze burning holes into your skin and knowing he’s sitting on his knees above you…just watching makes you squirm a bit. adrenaline continues to pump through your veins, exciting you further. 

your breath hitches and a soft, “fuck,” tumbles out of your mouth. your fingers pick up their pace, rubbing into the swollen bud with pure desire.

your lips tug up a bit when you hear your boyfriend’s shuddered exhale. you decide that— maybe— it’s your chance to put on a little show for him. 

your free hand comes up to fondle your tits, squeezing the fat with vigor. you arch into both of your hands helplessly. your eyes screw together and your jaw goes slack as moans come out of your open mouth. 

and, fuck, you bet you look so lewd to him. playing with your tits through your thin shirt and panting like a bitch in heat, all the while you're desperately grinding your hips for more.

and then you give him something he can’t deny. something he can’t ignore even if he wanted to.

“mmm, fuck,” you moan, fingers dipping down into your pulsing core.  “fuck, ‘m so wet, cheol.” 

when he doesn’t reply, your eyes crack open and shoot to stare at him. with your eyebrows knit together, you moan again, curling the fingers trapped between your warm, velvet walls. you speak as if he’s not inches away from you, as if you’re not staring directly at him while you fuck yourself with your fingers. “wish you’d just come ‘n fuck me, cheollie. wish my fingers were your cock so bad.” 

the wet sounds of your fingers curling and scissoring inside of you fill the room and it’s driving him absolutely insane. heat begins to radiate off his body and he realizes he can’t take this much longer–

“need your fat cock to fill me up so bad–” you pant, eyes rolling to the back of your head, the sight of him disappearing and your vision fades to black. “need you to split me open, make me take it all.”

and you’re not that close– even though your fingers feel fucking amazing– but stretching the truth never hurt anyone, so you whine out, “m close.”

he finally cracks..

his hand spans over your tummy and his thumb finds your clit, circling the puffy bud faster than you could imagine, “so soon, baby?” he asks with a low voice, words heavy and dripping with sheer dominance. “you’re that horny? gonna cum after playing with your pretty pussy for five minutes?”

you weren’t close before, but the stimulation to your clit along with the fingers in your messy cunt and your hand on your breast have you tensing up. your tummy tightens and your brain goes a bit haywire, his vulgar words not helping the situation in the slightest.

“needy girl… so fuckin’ dirty.” he murmurs. “talkin’ about getting split open on my cock. need me to fuck you back to sleep, don’t you?” 

you nod eagerly as his fingers work you faster, swiftly rubbing into you. he’s grinning at the way your movements are inconsistent, how you’re unable to keep your speed from faltering– your hand is probably cramping up inside of you. 

his free hand catches your wrist, pulling your fingers out causing a mewl to erupt in the back of your throat, but before you have a chance to complain, his longer, thicker fingers are replacing yours. he’s mocking your actions, but he’s making it feel so much better as he stretches you further and hitting all your spots better than you were. 

he hums, “you sure you can even take it? you’re squeezin’ my fingers so tight—”

your eyes snap open again and you protest through a moan, essentially cutting him off, “i-i can! you know i can!”

a deep, dark chuckle reverberates through your room as he nods, “you’re right, huh? you always take me so well. my good girl.” 

you really are going to cum now and seungcheol can feel it. you clamp around his fingers and your own curl around his wrist in attempts to ground yourself before your impending orgasm washes over you. 

“is this really how you wanna cum before i’m off to work, baby?” another faux pout appears on his face. “you don’t wanna cum on my cock? don’t want me to cum with you?”

you cry, shaking your head incessantly, preparing to have pure bliss cruelly ripped away from you. “cock, want– fuck, cheol– i-i want your cock.”

his pout morphs into yet another devious smirk as he pulls both of his hands off of you, abandoning you to cry and mewl in disappointment. the orgasm bubbling up in the pit of your tummy quickly flees, dissolving into nothing and leaving you with a dull ache in your needy core. 

seungcheol quickly strips his boxers off, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. he doesn’t need to with how wet you are, but he still lets a trail of spit coat his angry, red tip. 

you’re still heaving, recovering from your loss of orgasm and seungcheol is very aware. he can see that you're heavily anticipating the feeling of his dick finally pressing into you, doing your best to be patient and he has to fight off the urge to tease you for being so desperate. 

but, in all honesty, he’s doing no better than you. his hands eagerly find the backs of your thighs, spreading you open and then pushing them back till your knees knock against your chest. you gasp when you realize the position he’s put you in– 

he’s really going to give it to you. 

he slaps the heavy tip of his cock against your clit a few times causing your hips to jolt after every strike. he laughs quietly to himself, savoring the sight of you like this even though he knows he’ll have you like this again tonight and tomorrow and for the years to come. he’ll still burn the image of you before him into his brain every single time. you’re just too beautiful not to.

he runs his head through your drenched slit and you can’t resist the impatient groan that comes out of your mouth. “god, cheol, don’t tease. please.”

“you’re so cute when you’re worked up, though.”

“i’m a lot cuter with your dick inside of me,” you mumble, clenching around nothing as another flash of arousal courses through your body. “taking all of you.”

he can’t argue with that. 

he finally trails down to your drooling hole, slowly and steadily pushing into you. daunting inch by inch. he lodges his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting back an embarrassing moan over how incredibly tight you are. 

he’s only a quarter of the way in and you’re almost in tears. the pain from the stretch is one you’ll never get used to, but you breathe through it. he guides you through it. 

“good job, baby, just breathe. it’s gonna feel good, just relax.” he gets out with a strained voice as you let out an incoherent string of words.

you give him a broken nod and moan, doing your best to control your labored breathing and physically unclench.

he decides to just go halfway for the time being, gently thrusting in and out of your vice-like pussy till the pain subsides– till you’re able to take it all. 

and it’s not long before said pain turns into fervor and immense pleasure. 

“ch-cheol– oh, my god.” your words are something between a whine and mewl. “so big, oh my… fuck. you’re so big…”

he groans, cock twitching at the praise. he doesn’t mean to, but he fucks another inch (or two) into you, driving himself deeper into you. when you gasp at the intrusion, he swears he won’t be able to last long. 

he moans out his words, breathy and a bit stuttered. “d-don’t say that… swear to god, you’re gonna drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

you give him an airy laugh– though it quickly dies and turns into a whimper– and say, “you can give it to me.” 

a growl bubbles in his chest at the implication of your words. before he moves, he asks, “you sure?” and when you give him a soft yes, he doesn’t hold back, the switch– the sanity switch– in his mind and body flipping off.

he grabs the back of your thighs for support before pushing the rest of himself inside of you in one go. his hips meet yours and it has your eyes rolling back, an array of mewls and moans bouncing off the walls of your room mixing with his loud groans. 

he holds himself there for a second, but when you clamp around him tighter than before, he pulls his hips back and slams back into you. he repeats his actions, almost completely pulling out and pushing back in over and over till he gains a steady, consistent pace. 

he’s in deep, the tip of his cock scraping against your sweet spot. he hits it persistently while spewing praises left and right. 

“such a good girl. fuck, you’re so good, you know that?” he rambles, stars in his eyes as he watches your face contort and your body twitch at the sweet words. “feel so fuckin’ good, shit–”

you wish you could reply. give him back some praise about how his cock is fucking incredible, how he’s perfect, how he’s the most beautiful man ever, but the words escape you, as does your mind. instead, you tighten around him, velvety walls molding to the shape of him.

a guttural groan leaves him and he moves faster, forcing himself in and out, “not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

you do it again, clenching around him as he’s keeping up his impressive speed. “f-fill me up.”

“i fucking will,” he growls as if that were his plan all along. “but you’re gonna cum for me first.”

he discreetly snakes his hand between the two of you, hand splaying over your stomach as it did earlier except, this time, he’s pushing down and feeling himself inside of you. he groans at the sensation as his thumb catches your clit. 

“cheol!” you gasp, shockwaves running through your body at the contact. 

“come on, baby,” he coaxes in his sultry, breathy voice. “you can do it, can’t you? you can cum for me?”

you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, body becoming overstimulated at the onslaught of pleasure. your tummy tightens, just like before, and you feel the knot reforming with his deep strokes filling you to the brim and skillfully hitting your spot every time. 

“y-yeah– fuck, yes,” you pant, eyes screwing shut and body arching. you squeeze him tight– so tight he’s scared you might not let him leave. every nerve ending in your body is tingling, electrified– you may have the best orgasm of your life at six in the fucking morning. “cheol– cheol! cheol, i–” you sob, each version of his name getting louder and more incomprehensible than the last. 

looking at you, he thinks he’s in heaven. or maybe he’s in hell because his cock is twitching uncontrollably and he’s just barely hanging on. a pretty whine– one that he finds a bit embarrassing– escapes him before his wavered voice says, “fuck, i got you, baby. cum for me. cum all over my cock like the pretty girl you are.”

your body jerks and vision goes white at his command. the knot in your belly unravels rather quickly and you persuasively drench his length in your syrupy arousal. a silent scream leaves your mouth and you’re squirming under him as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm before your entire body goes lax.

you whine out little, mindless babbles, begging him to cum while he picks up his pace, fucking into your near lifeless body with so much vigor. 

“gonna let me fill this pretty pussy, huh?” he grits through his teeth, pulling his hand from your tummy in favor of putting it on the back of your thigh again. he pins your legs to your chest with a sense of urgency, nearly folding you in half. “tell me how bad you wanna get fucked full of my cum, baby.”

you shudder at the thought of him pumping you full. you nod dumbly, “p-please, cheol. wanna feel it inside of me so bad.”

“yeah?”

“fuck yes,”

he groans, his nails digging into your flesh. if he wasn’t close before, he’s going to fucking explode now. 

his hips stutter, thrusts growing sloppy before he stills with his tip nestled at your hilt. his abs contract and he twitches and pulses in between your walls. a soft cry of your name falls from his plush lips right as he shoots ribbons of warm cum deep into your cunt.  

the warmth of his cum causes a wanton moan to escape you. there’s so much of it that it’s hard to keep it inside of you. so much that it ends up spilling and dribbling out of your hole as he slowly pulls out. 

he watches in awe, dick twitching in excitement at the sight. he shakily exhales, holding himself back from shoving it into you again. 

you’re so sore. coming down from your euphoric high, you let your legs down, stretching them out due to the strenuous position, and try to regulate your breathing.

 a few minutes pass and you finally feel like your heart rate is back to normal. you still feel his load slipping out of you, so your hand comes down to your messy pussy, swiping up some of his seed and bringing your fingers to your lips. 

seungcheol groans at the moan you let out at the taste of your mixed cum. “you’re such a tease.” he mutters, hands soothing over your body. 

you pull your fingers out of your mouth and smile lazily at him. “we’re meant to be then.”

he cracks a wide grin, “we are, huh?”

“very.” you nod.

he leans down, whispering a soft i love you and pecking your lips. right before you can wrap your arms around him and tangle up with him again, he moves away. 

you groan in annoyance, “you’re not still going to work are you? after that?!”

“baby,” he laughs. “i’m already gonna be late. i have to clean you up and then get ready.”

“noooo, stay with me.” you whine making grab hands at him. “we could have so much more fun here. for example, i could suck you off.” you say in joking matter though you have never been more serious in your entire life. “orrrr, we can do some of the things you’ve always wanted to try.” you whisper, a taunting smile on your face. 

he gasps, face flushing, “baby, don’t play.” he shakes his head, pushing his dirty thoughts to the back of his head. “while the offer sounds tempting–”

“just today, cheol,” you plead, a pout on your face. “for me? please? just don’t wanna be away from you.”

he wishes that you weren’t so persuasive, but, unfortunately for him, you are. he can’t resist the pouts or the pleading eyes or how cute you are when you’re clingy. an exasperated sigh slips his lips. he’s going to have to play catch-up tomorrow, but the idea of spending the day with you instead makes it seem worth it.

“fine, i’ll give them a call. tell them i’m sick or something.” he says, a smile playing onto his lips. “just for you. just for today.”

“yay!” you cheer, sitting up on your messy bed sheets. “round 2 in the shower? then maybe we can work through your bucket list.”

“you are literally insatiable.” he scoffs as if he isn’t pulling your arms to get you out of the bed. 

“seems like you’re way ahead of me.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

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double take — preview

synopsis: you wanted to take home the oscar. he wanted to retire after making a masterpiece. in the world of camera flashes and red carpets, both of you were rivals—yet somehow, you make it work.

pairing: actor!joshua hong x actor!female reader genre: rivals to lovers, fake dating!au, actor!au, celebrity!au, old hollywood!au | romance, angst, smut, slow burn, drama preview word count: 440 (estimated: probably in between 10k and 30k)

preview warnings: alcohol consumption note: this fic is inspired by the song 'double take' by dhruv and the book 'the seven husbands of evelyn hugo' by taylor jenkins reid!

Joshua Hong might just be the most insufferable man you’ve ever laid eyes upon.

Caramel brown hair, slicked back to expose his forehead; a tight-fitting suit that accentuates the slope of his shoulders and strategically unbuttoned to showcase the column of his throat—you almost want to laugh. Only Joshua Hong would think to wear a suit to the Green Room, the current hotspot for all celebrities and whatever shenanigans they’re up to. In the span of fifteen minutes, you’ve met and exchanged niceties with at least half a dozen famous personalities.

Jeon Jungkook, known for his boyish personality and charming looks; Kim Taehyung, a familiar figure on the jazz scene, with his lean figure and warm eyes; Yoon Jeonghan, with his angelic smile and devil-may-care attitude, the son of two famous actors back when silent movies were the norm and who took the same path as them to become one of Hollywood’s most famous actors. You make eye contact with Irene Bae, famous for her stunning and realistic portrayals of the characters she always plays—and quite possibly the closest thing you can call a friend in this cutthroat industry.

You drag your eyes back to the man in front of you. Joshua Hong sits still, idly tracing the rim of the wineglass in front of him with his pointer finger. He has a ring, you notice, a thin band of rose gold that sits snugly on the base of his finger.

You take a sip of your strawberry daiquiri, just so you have something to do. Joshua’s silence is deafening, and despite the booming music from the speakers and the chatter of all the guests around you, you still feel unsettled.

“Y/N.” His voice is soft but smooth, like the downy softness of a silk pillowcase. “I’m afraid I don’t understand the terms of your… proposal.”

You grit your teeth. “What part of it is difficult to understand?”

He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers over his thigh. Against the plush cushions of the Green Room’s chairs and with the dim lights shrouding his figure, he looks ethereal. Once again—and not for the first time this night—you’re struck with his easy beauty. No wonder he was scouted by entertainment companies all over the country.

It doesn’t change the fact that he is being incredibly aggravating about this.

“Everything.” Joshua smiles, a harsh twitch of his lips. He leans forward, careful not to let the wineglass placed in front of him touch his dress shirt. “I’m not someone who does things for free, Y/N. So your proposal begs the question: What do I get out of it?”

author's note: i'm so excited to work on this fic!! i'm posting the preview so that i get motivation to continue this HAHA please send an ask/comment if you would like to be tagged in the full fic!! ♡ thanks for reading! :)

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happy cheolhub day sar!!! 🎉🫶🏽the banner for your bday post is so cuteee i love the colors! i might be too late for the bday bash, but if i’m not can i ask for “as much as i'd love to have you choking on me, i'm impatient and there's something else i want more” + joshua, please? 💗

7:15 p.m. — joshua hong

prompt. “as much as i'd love to have you choking on me, i'm impatient and there's something else i want more.”

wc. ~1.9k

warnings. slight exhibitionism, lots of teasing, bathroom sex (bathroom belongs to cheol oops), mirror sex, needy joshua <3, reader is a menace, dirty talk, pet names [baby], unprotected sex, creampie [MINORS DNI 18+]

note. hi cherry!! thank you lots <333 i kinda… pulled this out of my ass so forgive me if you hate it lol >< as always, this was not proofread so if any of u see a mistake, pls ignore it

event closed

there are many things you love and appreciate about joshua hong. he’s caring, for one, willing to bend over backwards just to see you smile. he also just so happens to be one of the funniest men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and while he is a menace 99.9% of the time, you can’t imagine not having him by your side. 

and, well, you can be a bit of a menace yourself. 

if there’s one particular thing you love the most about joshua, though, it’s his ability to be completely and utterly patient in almost every situation. he’s always cool, calm, collected– for the most part– and he knows how to wait for the things he wants till the right time comes. (read: things he wants being you) 

and you wish you could say the same about yourself, but you’re not even the slightest bit patient. to you, waiting is pointless and essentially time-consuming. screw “good things come to those who wait.”

nonetheless, you love this trait of his because you thoroughly enjoy testing him and watching his patient resolve crumble with your every action. especially in public. especially at your weekly movie nights in seungcheol’s house.

“stop,” he hisses, swatting your hand away from his thigh. “i already told you, you can have whatever you want when we get home.”

a faux pout etches into your lips, you quietly whine out, “but josh… i want it now.”

“no.” he says sternly, turning back to the movie. technicolor flashes over his face as something happens on the screen. he wish he knew what the plot of this flashy movie was, but all he can think about is how you’re silently begging for his dick right next to him even though a handful of his best friends sit on the floor in front of the two of you. 

you scoot closer to him, lightly ghosting your lips against the underside of his jaw, trailing up to his ear. “please, baby… i miss your cock.” you whisper. “wanna taste. i can’t wait, been needing it all night.”

your hand presses down onto his covered cock, palming him through his shorts. you pant, breath fanning against his ear causing a shiver to run down his spine. 

you nearly salivate as you feel him harden under you, your mouth craving the weight of his cock on your tongue. it’s obvious his patience is wearing thin because his protests have stopped and he’s become much more compliant. 

“josh,” you bring your voice just above a whisper. “please, i’ll do anything to have you in my mouth right now.”

his hand wraps around your wrist, roughly pulling you away from his aching hard on. he leans in close to you, whispering, “go wait for me in the bathroom upstairs.”

you don’t think you’ve ever moved faster, nodding your head before detaching yourself from his side. you quietly step around the boys on the floor with hushed, “sorry’s” and “excuse me’s” in reply to their grumbles. 

“where’s Y/N going?” seungcheol asks, turning back to look at joshua with a raised brow. 

the lie slips out of his mouth so easily, “ah, she had to call her boss. something about a file she forgot to turn in. i’ll go check on her if she’s not back in a bit.” when seungcheol nods, turning his head back to the television screen where the other eyes are, he lets out a silent breath of relief.

a few minutes pass with joshua twiddling his thumb, cock throbbing in his pants knowing you’re waiting for him just a few steps away. he finally stands, stepping away whispering a ‘be right back’ to which seungcheol and jeonghan mumble in response, too engrossed in the stupid movie to care about what the two of you are doing anymore.

he walks up the steep flight of stairs and into the guest bathroom where you’re sitting on the wide expanse of seungcheol’s countertop, gnawing on your bottom lip and swinging your legs back and forth. your head snaps up to see your boyfriend with a stony expression striding over to you. 

“you’re such a fucking tease,” he murmurs, hands immediately finding purchase on your waist. “putting your hands all over me in someone else’s home, are you that desperate? couldn’t wait an hour till we got home?”

you nod your head, lips spreading into a cheeky grin, “i’m always desperate for you, joshie.” 

your words come across as taunting, but you are beyond desperate for him. the heat pooling in the pit of your tummy and the puddle forming in your panties tells you so. 

“menace.” he scoffs, squeezing the clothed skin beneath his large hands. 

“you’re one to talk.” you flash a toothy grin at him, hoping off the counter and onto your feet. “now, let me suck you off before they realize we’re both missing.” 

joshua hooks a hand under your arm, halting your attempt to drop to your knees. he leans in, voice low as his breath fans against your face. “as much as i'd love to have you choking on me, i'm impatient and there's something else i want more.”

your own breath gets caught in your throat, “josh–” you try, but you don’t get to say what you want before joshua spins you around and bends you over the counter, your heated cheek flush against the contrastingly cool quartz.

a whine bubbles in your chest when his hands pull your shorts and panties down in a single go. the chilly air hitting your pulsing heat has another sound slipping your lips, louder and clearly audible.

“shhh, you don’t want them to come up here and find you taking my cock, do you?” he mumbles, pulling his length out of his shorts and dragging the tip through your drenched folds. you gasp at the contact and he chuckles, “actually, that might be exactly what you want, huh?”

“josh…” you pant exasperated, wiggling your ass before him. “please, just fuck me.”

joshua feels his length pulse in his hand at the breathless version of his name, brain short circuiting at how pretty it sounds on your lips. every remaining ounce of patience withers away to nothing and he’s aligning himself with your drooling hole, pushing himself inside of you. he grunts softly, lodging his bottom lip between his teeth to prevent the likes of a needy moan from exiting his mouth. 

your eyes screw shut and your mouth cracks open to let out the quietest mewl. joshua has always had a knack for gently fucking and stretching you open, but when he’s like this? at his wits end, worked up beyond belief, and undeniably needy for release? he’s near animalistic– forcing his cock into you in one go and gripping at your supple skin so tight that it leaves evidence of the action. an absolute force to be reckoned with. 

but despite joshua’s rough gestures at this very moment, he’s very glad you decided to test his patience tonight because he honestly didn’t realize how badly he needed this till he bottomed out in your slick, tight pussy. nothing beats the feeling of your cunt struggling to the shape of his cock even though he’s fucked you a thousand times. 

he throws his head back as he pulls out completely before shoving himself back into you, his tip nestling at your hilt for a few seconds.

“baby, you’re gonna be the death of me.” he says breathlessly, actively trying not to make a sound. when you clamp tightly around him, he delivers a sharp thrust into the spot that has your eyes rolling. “you’re fucking evil.” he grunts, his bruising grip on your waist unrelenting. 

your palms lay flat against the counter and you use the remainder of your strength to push yourself up to look at him in the mirror’s reflection. “you love it,” you manage to respond, albeit in a strangled voice. 

a lazy grin forms on his face, “you’re right. i fucking love it.” he agrees. he slams into you with more vigor, cock pistoning in and out of you. “i love it when you fucking test me.” he mindlessly admits. 

you bring one hand to clamp over your hand, leaving the other pressed against the counter to keep you up. you muffle the moans that grow louder with every thrust, but some of them inevitably spill out anyway.

it’s music to joshua’s ears. he’s reveling in the way you moan, uncaring of how his four friends can probably hear you just downstairs. if anything, it spurs him on. he’s savoring the way your throbbing heat wraps around him, squeezing him so tight that he might bust prematurely. he’s loving every second of this and he can’t believe he almost turned the offer enticing offer down. 

tears spring to your eyes as the fiery knot in your belly tightens. joshua groans when your pussy involuntarily flutters and he gives you a knowing look through the mirror. 

“you’re close, aren’t you, baby? gonna cum all over me, yeah?” he asks hotly, words breathy and laced with slight desperation. his pride won’t let him cum before you. 

you sob into your hand, nodding your head. “joshua.” the muffled version of his name has his cock twitching and he can’t stop the guttural groan from bubbling in his chest. 

one of his hands snakes around your body till the calloused pads of his fingers find your sensitive clit. he rubs quick, yet consistent, circles into the hardened bud till your body goes taut under his. 

“that’s it. cum for me.” he coaxes gruffly. he prays that the walls aren’t paper thin because your mewls– even while the sounds are muffled by your hand– mixed with the sound of his balls slapping against your heat are positively loud.

you soak his cock in arousal, specks of white flashing in your vision before you nearly collapse. your body goes limp as joshua continues to fervently thrust into you. 

watching you cum has him twitching wildly between your spasming walls and letting out quiet, yet keen moans and groans of pleasure. 

“gonna cum inside you and you’re gonna go back out there with all of it inside of you.” he grunts, thrusts growing more and more brutal. “gonna act like nothing happened with my cum inside your insatiable little cunt, got that?”

you nod, weakly clenching around him again and giving him a pathetic whimper. 

his thrusts grow sloppy and inconsistent before he buries himself inside of you and spills his seed with a breathy moan. he pants, keeping his cock nestled in your ruined cunt till his labored breathing returns to normal. 

after a minute or so, he pulls out of you and quickly pulls your shorts and panties back up to keep his earlier promise. he tucks himself back into his shorts and smiles at your fucked out face through the mirror.

“hope that satiated you,” he says gravelly. “next time you decide to test my patience, i won’t be so nice.” 

you offer a throaty laugh, a lazy smile tugging up your lips, “i’ll be looking forward to it.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

this was so hot omg cannot wait for psycho I was the same after these photos dropped

JUNE!!! what if biting his pecs right before the pictures were taken so that's why he's wearing that blazer 👀

member | bf!jun x reader genre | smut, idol!au word count | ~850 smut warnings | no descriptions of reader anatomy but jun uses "good girl" as a nickname so do with that what you will, making out (like hard), dry humping, a lot of detail about abs (duh), marking, reader is a little bit possessive about the marking, somewhat dom!jun, everything is very fast and rough and steamy notes | if you wanna know how i'm doing after these pics dropped... you don't wanna know (hint: not well)

“fuck,” jun moans breathlessly as he bucks his hips up into you, his fingers holding your waist in a death grip against his lap. “you know my stylist fucking hates you, right?”

“like i give a shit,” you scoff, grazing your teeth over his hard nipple. you can feel the noises he makes vibrating deep in his chest, a low grumble beneath your lips as you let your mouth wander across his skin. “they put you in an outfit like this and expect me to not want to fuck the life out of you?”

you’re sure somebody must be looking for him by now, and people are probably starting to get angry that he’s late for the next round of photoshoots, but when he’d pulled you into his dressing room to get your approval for his outfit, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to get your hands on him, not when he looks so good so exposed like this.

it won’t be the first time his makeup artists will have to cover the fading bruises you’ve left all over his body. but in this outfit that shows off his defined abs and leaves little to the imagination, this time there’s no fabric to hide your marks from the camera. though no one ever mentions it, you know everyone notices, and it gives you a selfish sense of pride knowing that you alone are the one responsible for them.

the exhilaration of having so little time together makes your heart race with a kind of desperation you’ve never felt before. you’ve had plenty of quickies in bathrooms and closets, backstage rooms and changing areas, but never like this. sitting in jun’s lap, fully clothed, both of you frantically grinding against each other as you make it your mission to put your mouth on every inch of him as fast as you possibly can.

jun nearly growls when you rake your nails down his torso, his hands quickly moving up your body to cup your chin and pull your face towards him to capture your lips.

you push your hands flat against his chest, feeling his firm muscle beneath your palms as you desperately work your mouth with his, the sounds of both your whines mixing with the sloppy noise from your kisses.

his hands tighten in your hair, pulling your head back quickly as you both gasp for air. “god, i wanna fuck you so bad right now, but there’s no time,” he murmurs, and you can feel the heat from his breath washing over your lips.

your hands fall to his hips, tracing the deep ridges of his v-line with your fingertips as he tosses his head back with a choked moan. you lean forward to smash your lips against his, and just as you’re about to follow the trail of hair on his stomach down lower, there’s a loud knock at the door and a voice calling jun’s name urgently.

“fuck— baby, i really gotta go,” he groans as he pulls away from you, your bottom lip caught between his teeth for a second before his mouth leaves yours. “you’re gonna make me cum in these pants, and then they’ll really be pissed.”

you whine in annoyance and your fingers grip onto the collar of his jacket trying to tug him back to you, but he grabs your waist to lift you off of his lap, and reluctantly you let him stand up. he curses under his breath as he grabs at his crotch with shaky hands, trying to adjust himself quickly so the tent in his pants isn’t quite so obvious.

he wraps his hands around your waist and drags you toward him, giving you another kiss. “be a good girl and i’ll let you ride my abs when we get home later, okay?” he says in a hoarse voice, his fingers trailing down your jaw. “i know how much you like that. and then after that maybe i’ll let you lick me clean, as a treat.”

“god, that sounds so good. please make this fast, jun, please,” you moan.

“my needy baby,” he chuckles, still a little out of breath. “i’ll try, but we’re already behind schedule, and you know how long these things take.”

“i can think of something else that’s long that i’d rather be taking right now,” you pout at him. you run your hands over his chest once more, and he laughs and pulls you back in for one last rough kiss before heading for the dressing room door.

“i promise i’ll be as fast as i can, and then you can have me all you want. i’ll see you after.” he winks, and a second later he’s gone.

the door slams shut and you fall back down onto the chair with a sigh, leaning your head back as your hand slips down between your legs. you’re impatient, and you’ve got nothing but time to kill waiting for jun to finish working. but the thoughts running through your head and the lingering feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips is more than enough to keep you occupied until he comes back.

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— DRUNK BOYFRIEND JAKE ! 💭

➙ drunk boyfriend jake thoughts

pairing: jake sim x gn!reader

genre: fluff, some humour/crack

request: " hcs abt clingy drunk jake bc he seems like a clingy drunk LOLLL "

warning: mentions of alcohol and drinking, not proofread, lowercase intended, reader accused of being a 'kidnapper' by drunk jake

a/n: I honestly wouldn't mind drunk jake, clingy cute jake is my favourite, thanks for this request anon, hope you enjoyed it :)

jake was already clingy when he was sober, but he becomes 100 times clingier when he's drunk be it around you or his friends (mostly with you though)

so much more affectionate with you, always wanting kisses and hugs and gets pouty when you don't give him

extremely talkative

like he's a motor and he will mention the most random and silly things that most of the time are slurred and don't make sense

definition of talking just to talk

probably singing Justin Beiber songs at the top of his lungs on top of a chair

"WHEN I WAS 13, I HAD MY FIRST LOVE SHSGDGGSJSISNDB ABOVE! SHE HAD ME GOING CRAZY- what's the rest again?"

starts from the top singing another pop song and turns the entire place into a jake karaoke session

super giggly and out of it to the point where the others are concerned and they end up calling you to come get him

when you do come around he may forget who you are in a daze

"STRANGER DANGER! HELP ME, THEY'RE TRYING TO KIDNAP ME!"

"Jake baby, it's just me, have some water to sober up."

also a stubborn and pouty baby

accuses you of ruining the fun and being a party pooper

when he does give in and starts recognising you he will be all over you with the sloppiest kisses

"Guys, my lovely (y/n) is here! Hi baby, when did you arrive?"

you'd been there the entire time but he was too drunk to notice

"Crazy story though, I almost got kidnapped before you got here but you came to save me." he says with a sheepish smile

"I'll always save you angel." you tell him kissing his forehead laughing softly at your drunk boyfriend

jake is glued to you now with his arms around you and his head on your shoulder

he ends up going from 100 to 0 real quick

all that energy he had before disappears and he becomes quieter and sleepier

in the end he probably just passes out and one of the other members has to help you get this big boy into the car for you

he wakes up to find a whole bunch of embarrassing photos and videos of him doing the oddest things

I'm talking about a video of him sent by sunghoon hugging a streetlight claiming it was you

he will never hear the end of it from both his friends and you for the next coming weeks

jake learnt his lesson and he'll be sure to be more watchful of his drinking now