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#Kpop angst
jhdyuiee · 2 days
Text
Where are You?
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✪ pairing: BIKER!yuta x GF!Y/N
✪ warnings/tags: smut!, angst, fluff, arguing/fighting (verbal not physical), make-up sex, name calling (brat, slut, baby, good girl, princess), breast play, oral (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, riding & doggy, tit sex (?!), spanking, fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex (only on pill), cum eating, rough yuta
✪ w.c: 2.4k
✪ a.n: hii!! this is 1 of 2 fics i release today 😆 ! yesterday was my sisters birthday so i wasnt able to upload but im back with 2 stories today yay! anyhow i hope yall enjoy this one && thank u all for the love and support on Mirrors 🤍
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3:40 a.m
I turned to the clock once more, the minutes and hours passing with still no sign of him. Yuta promised to be home by midnight, but 3 hours later he’s still not here. His race should’ve finished by now. I tried calling and messaging him but no response. I was about to give him one last call, when the front door opened, keys dingling.
I rushed out and was met with the man. Yuta was taking off his leather jacket, his black tank underneath. His muscular body under the moonlight that shone from the windows made him look even more attractive.
“Where have you been?” I questioned.
He looked up, his eyes meeting mine. “Racing, where else?”
“I know that, but what took you so long? You said you would be back by midnight,” I said, slightly irritated.
“Johnny got into an altercation with the other team when they wouldn’t shut up about the win being rigged,” Yuta explained.
“Yet you couldn’t answer my messages or calls?”
“Look, Y/N I’m tired. Let’s talk tomorrow,” he said softly. However I wasn’t having it. Honestly, this wasn’t even the first time he’s ever done this. For the past months or so he’s been coming home late after his races. In which I have grown suspicious about.
I scoffed, “Sure you are.” Before he could let another word out, I went back to our bedroom. As much as I wanted to give him a peace of mind, I was too tired from staying up waiting for him.
“Y/N,” Yuta yelled when I sat down in the bed. He came storming in. The patience in him evaporated. “What the fuck is wrong, huh?”
I slightly flinched at his words. I looked up at him, “You, that’s what’s wrong.”
Yuta came closer, “Me? What the fuck have I done?”
“You never come home! You’re always back so late,” I said, my voice slightly rising.
He chuckled, “That’s it? Really?”
‘Why was he treating this as a joke? Laughing? Nothing was funny about this.’ I got up from the bed, “Yes, I’m your fucking girlfriend for fuck sakes and I barely even get to see your face nowadays.”
He took another step closer, “Sorry, I’ve been so busy I didn't know my girlfriend was lonely.” Yuta didn’t seem sorry at all. “Nice try at a lame apology,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Another step, “Why are you acting like such a brat right now?”
I didn’t respond, I couldn’t. Brat. The word sent a chill down my body, in a good way.
“Huh? What’s wrong now?” Step. “Oh, I got it now,” Yuta said with more enthusiasm. His face brightened up like everything clicked to his head.
He brought a hand down my body, placing it above the curve of my ass. I felt as he fondled it, until he went further down and cupped my sex. I gasp at the touch of his hand on my sex.
He leaned into my ear, “You’ve been needy haven’t you? Is that why you’re so upset?” His hand separated from me, he separated from me. He stood there looking at me as I began to lustfully yearn for his touch.
“Answer my question baby.”
Fuck. He was right. I missed his touch, his kisses, his praises, his cock, his entire being.
“Y-Yes. I missed you so much Yuta.”
He smirked, coming back to me. “Sorry for that princess, I’ve been rather neglectful of you. I’m sorry,” he said, kissing down my neck until he reached my mouth.
His tongue entered my mouth, playing with mine. Our kiss was intense, filled with want. This was something not only I, but what we both needed. Our kiss deepened even more until I ended up back on the bed on Yuta’s lap.
His hands roamed over my back in delicate touches, until they ended up back on my ass. I moaned into our kiss when he smacked it. Soon, Yuta pulled away from the kiss—our saliva connecting—and stared at me with lustful eyes, eyes of an animal ready to pounce on its prey.
“Get on your knees,” he commanded, and so I did. He began unbuckling his belt, his cock springing out. It was already hard, leaking with pre-cum. “Suck.”
I looked up, his hand reaching to grab my hair, pulling me closer to his cock. I sucked in a breath, I wanted nothing more but to get him inside my mouth.
“I don’t have all day,” he reminded me.
I started kissing his cock, tip to base. Then licking him as slowly as possible, making him year for more. “Fuck. You- take it like you always do slut.”
I decided to stop teasing him and took his cock inside my mouth. He’s too big. The tears pooled in my eyes quickly. “Shit. That’s my girl, taking me so well,” he groaned when he felt the sensation of my moans around his cock. His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and started bobbing my head up and down until he relaxed his grip on my hair, allowing me to take him out. I went into a fit of coughing, and my jaw was starting to hurt.
“Done already?” Yuta teased. I glared at him, “You nearly choked me with your fucking dick.” He laughed at my statement. “Take off your clothes,” he said, when he finished laughing.
One by one my clothes were gone. His hands came in contact with my breast, fondling them and pinching my nipples.
“Such pretty tits,” he said. Then next thing I knew his cock laid rested in between them. He squeezed them together as he thrusted in between them, his pre-cum allowing easier movement. The more he thrusted, the harder and faster he went.
Yuta fucked my tits until the ropes of his cum painted my face and tits. He swiped a finger over some cum that splattered on my face, bringing it to my mouth. I swallowed every single drop he gave me.
“Open up your mouth princess,” he said, when I finished taking in his cum. I opened it, and even stuck my tongue out. With another movement his cock buried itself in my mouth again. This time though he didn’t move me, so I started bobbing my head up and down his shaft, my hand following along. I swirled my tongue around his tip, earning a moan from him.
“Just like that,” he said, stroking my hair. He was close again, so I continued my movements on his cock. Finally then he exploded inside my mouth, the white ropes of his cum filling up my mouth once more. He slid his cock out and gathered the cum that had slipped past my lips, and pushed it back in.
“Such a good girl,” he said proudly. “Swallowed every drop right?”
I nodded, “Please… I need you, I want to cum too.” I pleaded with the man, I was so soaked, I felt it on my legs and thighs.
“Come up here then baby, lay down for me,” he said, patting the bed. “I’ll take care of you.”
I did as he said, laying down while he got on top of me. He spread my legs apart, a smile appearing on his face. His fingers slid down my cunt at a slow pace. He then brought them to his mouth, licking them clean. Yuta let out a satisfied groan, “Always tasting so good.”
“Please,” I whimpered.
He looked at me, descending in between my legs. He spread them apart, and placed them on top of his shoulders. “Fuck, you’re leaking everywhere baby. Sorry, I neglected you for so long, but don’t worry because we’ll take care of this,” he said, kissing my clit.
His tongue then darted out, licking a strip up and down my cunt, repeating it over and over. I squirmed at his touch. He drank up all my juices like a starved man, a man deprived of water. I gripped onto his hair, pushing him a little further in.
“Fu-Fuck right there,” I moaned, when his wet muscle intruded inside my cunt. He added to the intensity when he brought his thumb and began circling my sensitive clit. I was close to cumming, just a little more. “I’m gonna cu-cum!”
Yuta’s tongue went out, causing the sensation to be lost. Fuck. “Then cum baby, you deserve it, don't ya?” Soon his fingers came to replace his tongue, plunging in and out of my cunt while his tongue now lapped and played around with my clit. Yes this was what I needed. A couple more thrusts from his fingers, and I came all over his arm. My chest heaving, trying to catch some oxygen. It was too good.
“Good job baby,” Yuta said, kissing my temple. “You ready now?” he asked.
“Ye-Yes please put it inside.”
“Get on all fours then,” he says. I flipped over, my hands and knees on the bed, awaiting him. I felt as his hand fondled the flesh of my ass, before he landed a hard smack on it. I yelped, not expecting that. I turned back, and was met with Yuta stroking his cock while looking at my drenched cunt. He moved in closer, I felt as his tip touched my cunt.
“So tight, so wet. You feel so fucking good,” Yuta muttered, as he pushed further inside me. I felt the delicious stretch of his cock inside my pussy, and how it reached me deeply inside.
Once he was all in he wasted no time. Yuta thrusted into me like a wild beast, going at an uncontrollable speed and pace. His cock was so deep within me that I felt so full already. The sound of our skin slapping and my moans echoed in the room. I turned my head back, and was met with Yuta’s lustful eyes. He looked so drunk of pleasure.
The grip on my hips was sure to show up bruised tomorrow. My eyes rolled back when his tip kissed my g-spot. We just started but I was already so close to cuming.
Suddenly Yuta’s hand tugged on my hair roughly as he continued his excruciating pace. My tongue lolled out, he took it as an opportunity to spit in my mouth. I swallowed it unconsciously, I was too high on the pleasure to comprehend what I was doing.
“Such a good slut,” he said, letting the grip on my hair go and thrusted even harder. His hand once again came in contact with my clit, pinching it until I finally came undone. My orgasm passed through me. I clenched around his cock, erupting in groans from him. “I’m cumming,” he said and unleashed once again. His hot white cum painting my walls white this time.
I barely had time to recover before he said, “Ride me.” I looked over and Yuta was already head against the headboard awaiting for me, his cock still hard. I weakly crawled over, placing myself on top of him. I grabbed his cock, and pushed myself down as his cock entered me once more.
Once I was in I began moving. Up and down, his hands guiding my hips. Slow, then fast, slow, then fast, slow, then fast. I kept this pace up, but it began to feel not enough. So I started bouncing on him even fast, my hands gripping his shoulders. I kissed his lips, melting into the pleasure he was giving me.
I didn’t stop, until I began growing tired. “Let me help you,” he says. Yuta took over, using the grip on my hips to plunge into me. My tits bounced all over his face, until he no longer could resist the temptation and took one in his mouth. He sucked on my breast, then swirled and flickered my nipple. I was approaching my next orgasm, and clenched around him. He detached himself from my nipple with a pop, “Cum for me baby.”
One thrust, then two, and three. The knot in my stomach unleashed, I came once again on his cock once more. But it didn’t stop there, Yuta had yet to cum. Luckily it didn’t take long. Yuta came after a few more thrusts, I probably milked him dry today.
We stayed in that position for a while, trying to catch our breaths. Yuta hugged and soothed me, gently kissing me. “Let’s get us cleaned up,” he said after a while. He walked us over to our bathroom, placing me on the tub as he ran the water. I was growing drowsy, the sex had tired me.
Once the water was done running, he placed me inside and joined in. I didn’t know what happened afterwards as my eyes shut closed, falling into a deep slumber.
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the next morning.
I tried shuffling to turn the other way, but something heavy was preventing me from doing so. I stirred my eyes, trying to get them to focus. Once they came into focus the sight in front of me made me widen my eyes.
Yuta lying beside me…
Typically the guy would be gone by now. ‘Was he running late?’ I thought. I shook him lightly, softly repeating his name. His eyes stirred, until they finally opened. He smiled.
Yuta smiling in the morning?!
No yeah perhaps I was still dreaming. I pinched myself, and when I felt the pain I knew this wasn’t a dream.
I finally decided to speak up, “What are you doing here? You’re usually gone by now.
He looked at me, his face softened. “I’m sorry Y/N,” he said, pulling me even closer. His embrace felt so warm and comforting.
“I’m sorry I’ve been acting like an asshole lately. I should’ve been prioritizing you over anything, you didn’t deserve that baby.”
I looked at him, my eyes watering. “Don’t cry Y/N, it aches my heart,” he said, wiping the tears that had started falling down my face.
“I love you so much. You are the most beautiful woman in this world, and with the most beautiful soul too. I am so very lucky to have you Y/N.”
Oh fuck. His words made for more tears to come streaming down my face.
“I love you Yuta, I love you so very much. Thank you for your apology, Thank you for understanding. I love you,” I said, as I caressed his cheek.
“I love you so much more.”
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© jhdyuiee
24.03.26
62 notes · View notes
baby-yongbok · 3 hours
Text
Ex : Part II
Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
⇝ Genre: Angst then Smut then angst again. Dirty Drama.
⇝ Summary: There's only one thing on your mind after 'welcoming' Hyunjin back into your life.
⇝ Warnings: Themes of Cheating, Arguing, Oral sex, Hyunjin is toxic - the manipulative type - and he seriously thinks he did nothing wrong. (I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!)
⇝ Word Count: 3.2k
⇝ A/N: SO MANY of you wanted a part 2 to this so I tried my best + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ I hope that you enjoy the drama! 💕
✧ Part One ✧ Masterlist ✧
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It took you a week. A week of crying and screaming, a week of avoiding your friends, a week of him ignoring your calls for you to realize that Hyunjin has you fucked up if he thinks that you’re going to let him get away with what he put you through. At first you just wanted to talk to him, you thought that maybe you could convince him to cut Yara off. You thought that you could change him - how cliche. You called him for three days and when you got sick of getting his voicemail you called his best friend, Jeongin. He was surprised to hear from you but he was even more surprised when you told him everything that happened. 
“Are you fucking serious?” For the first time since Hyunjin left you crying on your bedroom floor you let it all out. You told Jeongin every dirty detail of the encounter. You cried and he was there for you, he did what Hyunjin hasn’t done for months. “Is there anything that I can do? Anything you need?” 
The line fell silent as you processed his question. Your brain is telling you one thing while your heart is telling you another. You sigh as the two battle for dominance over what comes out of your mouth next. You’ve let your heart make all of the moves for the past three days. You’ve cried and you’ve screamed all in favor of lifting the crushing pain off of your chest for an hour or two. Now it’s your brain's turn to decide and it only wants one thing. 
“Ya know there is something that you can help me with.” Your heart pleads for you to choose something less drastic, less dramatic but your brain yells for it to shut up. Why should we let Hyunjin have all the fun? “Anything, you name it.”
“Revenge.”
Hyunjin came to your place four days after you spoke to Jeongin. He had cherry red roses in his hand and an apology plastered on his face. His eyes were pleading with you before he could even open his mouth but to his surprise you hugged him. You held him tight and smiled, taking the flowers and making a home for them in your favorite vase. He was stunned to say the least but he didn’t comment. He needed you. His ex did exactly what you knew she would, she took all that she wanted from him and the second that she started to get attention from somewhere else she acted like he didn’t exist. 
He tried to be the boyfriend that you’ve been wanting him to be over the next couple of weeks but he couldn’t seem to get a hold of you. Each and every time that he’d plan a date or show up to surprise you, you were already out or you were leaving to meet with your friends. You barely answered his texts and he’s more than positive that you’ve been sending him to voicemail for the past week. It’s been a month of him putting up with you blowing him off and he’s sick of it.
He decided to show up at your place two hours before your plans to talk to you, maybe he can get you to stay home and spend some time with him tonight. He misses you more than you could even imagine and he thought that you’ve been missing him too. Shouldn’t you be dying to spend time with him? 
His face drops when he gets to your front door and his key doesn’t fit into the lock, did you change it? He rings the bell, tapping his foot anxiously as he waits for you to open the door. His eyes meet yours when it swings open and you smile at him, welcoming him in. 
“My key didn’t work.” He comments as he kicks his shoes off.
“Really? That’s odd.” You shrug as you make your way to your bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.” You call to him as the bathroom door closes behind you. The click of the lock draws a sigh from Hyunjin. Not even a kiss or a hug? Just a friendly hello like you’re not even dating. He drags himself to your bedroom and throws himself on your perfectly made bed. His thoughts project onto the ceiling as he stares at it. He feels like he’s going crazy, why are you acting so weird? No affection, barely talking, barely hanging out and you’re always on… Oh no. He sits up quickly, his eyes dart around the room until it finally lands on what he’s looking for on your bedside table.
Your Phone.
He glances over at your bedroom door before grabbing it. The screen lights up and a picture of you and your friends presents itself to him. That’s funny, wasn’t your wallpaper that picture of you two from when you went to the aquarium for your second date. You always said that that was your favorite picture. When did you change it?
He glances towards the door again and swipes your screen, his brain is busy thinking of possible password combinations but there is no password. His brows pinch together in confusion, you always have a pin on your phone. He decides to worry about that later and quickly starts searching all of your apps. He goes from your instagram to your snapchat but there’s nothing. Just a bunch of reels being sent between you and Jeongin, the last person you sent a picture to on snapchat was also Jeongin. How can his best friend have time to talk to you but he doesn’t have time to text him back? He’s called him an unimaginable amount of times over the past month but he hasn’t heard a single thing back. His finger hovers over your text messages for a second too long. What if he doesn’t like what he finds? What if you’re cheating on him? How could he handle a betrayal like that? With one more quick glance towards the door he taps the app and it opens up to a conversation. Hyunjin’s heart drops when he reads the name at the top. 
“What?” An incredulous sigh escapes him as he starts scrolling to the top of the conversation. Pet names are being thrown left and right, plans are being made every single day and there are back to back facetime calls in the dark hours of the night. 
Hyunjin’s heart is pounding in his ears and his fingers are moving so fast that he didn’t even realize that he went into your shared media. He freezes and his heart drops to his ass as he takes it all in. Nudes, videos, everything that he could imagine, all of you and his best friend. All of you and Jeongin. He opens a video and his mouth goes dry at the lewd sounds that fill the room. He’s fucking you from behind with a fist full of your hair to keep your head up. You’re drooling and moaning and Jeongin is smiling, he’s fucking smiling at the camera. His shirt - wait a minute - that’s not his. Hyunjin’s eyes go wide as he studies the fabric, his best friend is wearing his clothes while he fucks his girlfriend? Unbelievable, this can’t be real.
He quickly exits the video and scrolls through your pictures. You and Jeongin in the car, in your bedroom, your living, you on your knees and him on his. Hyunjin doesn’t even bother to look at the door to make sure you aren’t coming. He can’t hear anything but the thoughts racing through his head. His finger slips and another video opens. The sound of skin against skin echoes through his ears as the video plays. Jeongin is shirtless, fucking you in front of your bathroom mirror. Actually, he’s naked, did you two shower together? Hyunjin balls a fist in the blanket under him as he watches the video.
“Say it again, baby, say it to the camera.” A broken moan escapes you as you try to follow Jeongin’s order. “Y-you’re so much better than him, fuck me so good, Innie.” Hyunjin swears that his heart broke at the sound of you. Why would you say that? You don’t mean it do you? What did he do to deserve this?
He pauses the video and drops your phone against the mattress, your texts stare back at him and he can’t help but to scroll. “That’s not yours.” He jumps at the sound of your voice and you laugh. You wander over to lazily flip through your closet with a towel wrapped around your hair and your rob loosely tied around your body.
“What the fuck is all of this?” His voice is small, much smaller than he meant for it to be but you can hear the heartbreak laced in it. You almost feel bad for him. But that’s your heart speaking, she’s not in control right now. “You’re fucking Jeongin?”
You pick out a dress and move to your mirror, you tilt your head as you hold it against your body. “Think this is too much for a dinner date?” Hyunjin scoffs, moving to stand from your bed.
“Answer me, tell me that everything that I just found is fake. Tell me that you didn’t betray me.” He has some nerve talking about betrayal. You face him, staring back at him with faux sympathy. “I was lonely when you left, what was I supposed to do?” 
“Wait for me to get back.” You turn your attention back to your closet but he calls your name before you can pick out another dress. “You haven’t been going out with your friends have you? You’ve been with him. What in your right mind possessed you to fuck my best friend?”
“Do you really care, Hyunjin? Do you really want me to tell you? Cause I’ll tell you everything but that’s not what you want to hear, is it?” He watches as you slowly step towards him, like a vixen with her eyes set on a prize. “You wanna hear me say that I love you. You want me to say that I’ll stop seeing him because I need you.” 
He’s stuck in place as he watches you, heavy breaths passing his parted lips as you read him like a book. That’s exactly what he wants, he wants you, that’s all he’s wanted for the past month. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” His voice is a mere whisper once you reach him, like he’d scare you away if he talks too loudly. “That’s what I want.” He shudders when you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. 
“Are you touch starved, baby?” His soft gaze pours into yours but he doesn’t recognize the look in your eyes. It’s not what he wants but he’ll gladly take it. At least you’re looking at him. “Didn’t your ex touch you while you were away?”
His heart sinks and a smile creeps onto your lips. “She - she did but -” You tsk, cutting him off before he could stumble over his words further. 
“She didn’t make you feel like I do, did she?” He shakes his head, guilty eyes staring back into yours as you reach down to palm him over his sweats. “Is that why you’re back? She didn’t take care of my Hyune?”
“She’s not you.” His breath is heavy and his eyes roll back as he answers with a thick groan. You run your fingers over him with expert precision. You’ve always known what to do to get him going. “I want you, not her. Always you.”
“Untie my robe.” You whisper and he quickly obeys, fumbling with the loose knot until the fuzzy fabric falls open and reveals your naked body to him. “Wanna show me how much you want me?” He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss but you dodge him before he can. A disapproving whimper escapes him and you puff out your lip in a fake pout. 
“Gotta be patient, my baby. Can you do that?” He nods, whimpering out a pathetic ‘yes’. His eyes follow your frame as you sit on the edge of your bed. Your eyes wander from his down to the floor in front of you and back up again. He quickly follows your unspoken instruction, falling to his knees in front of you and drooling when you part your legs before him. “Show me.”
Hyunjin latches onto your core like a desperate puppy. His tongue wastes no time exploring every inch of you that he’s missed. Hums and moans vibrate through him as he tastes you and you match each sound with your head thrown back and your fingers laced in his hair. At least he remembers how to eat your pussy the way that you like it, though you must admit that you’ve gotten used to Jeongin’s mouth on you. 
Your bed creaks as his hips buck against it in a desperate attempt to feel half as good as you do. “Fuck, come on, Hyune. Don’t tell me your best friend eats my pussy better than you.” He groans in protest, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep you open while he works against you. You gasp in pleasure, so he’s competitive? He swirls his tongue in imaginary patterns, sliding it between your folds as he takes turns sucking on your clit and fucking your pulsing hole. His hips grind restlessly against the edge of your mattress and desperate grunts fill the air once they vibrate through your core. 
“You missed me didn’t you?” You pull him back with your fist in his hair, his swollen lips glisten in the low lamp light and his eyes are glazed with fuckout desperation. “Yeah, missed you.”  He’s too deep into the brain fog to hear just how pathetic he sounds but you’re more than happy to take it all in for him. A strangled moan escapes you as Hyunjin's tongue explores deeper. You grip his hair tighter as he laps up your juices, and you arch your back to meet him. 
His thrusts against your mattress become more desperate as laps at you, The mess of your drooling cunt makes a mess all over his chin as he works desperately to get you to the edge but that’s not the part that gets you close. It’s the thought of him hoping and praying that hi tongue is fucking you better than Jeongin ever did and as you get closer to coming undone you find yourself clenching at the thought that his best friend does it better. “Shit, Jeongin, I’m gonna cum.” 
 Your orgasm rips through you with a loud moan and your body shudders in pleasure. You hold Hyunjin's head in place against your core as his tongue continues to work diligently in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm. Once you’ve come down from your high he pulls back slowly, a single string of spit still connecting him to your cunt.
“What did you call me?” He mumbles, not even bothering to wipe his mouth clean. You stare down at him with not an ounce of care in your eyes. 
“Don’t remember.” You pull your robe closed and slide from in front of him to pull yourself up to your feet. “And I don’t care.” Hyunjin’s heart dissolves as he watches you shrug and wander back over to your closet.
“What are you doing?” He mumbles and you scoff.
“Will you stop with the pitiful tone?” He scrambles up from his knees quickly, a surge of anger running through him. 
“Come on.” He stalks over and wraps his arms around you, leaning in to kiss your neck but you push him away before he can. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“I have a date to get ready for.” You flip through your clothes and it’s only now that he notices the empty space in your closet. “Where are my clothes?” 
“I told you to take all of your shit last month.” You shrug, pulling out a dress and holding it against your body in the mirror. “You didn’t take it so I gave most of it to Jeongin. Thought about burning the rest but I donated it instead.”
He watches you silently, jaw hung slack in a frozen state of disbelief. “Are there fucking cameras in here?” He looks around, half desperate for that to be the case. “Is this a joke?”
“The only joke here is you. Did you think that you could come back here and I’d act like nothing happened?” A venomous laugh erupts from your chest. “Be fucking forreal.”
“But we just fucked, I just ate you out why would you let that happen if you’re still going to see Jeongin?” 
“You got a phone call last time. You owe me, remember?” Hyunjin can’t decide if he should be livid or desperate. He wants to yell and curse you out for being so ridiculous but at the same time he wants to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He had hoped that you understood what happened a month ago. He thought that he could count on you to see that he only did what he had to do. Yeah he cheated but if you really loved him you could move past that. 
“You’re excused. I need to get ready.” You push past him, bumping your shoulder with his but he grabs you by the waist before you can get too far, pulling you against his chest. “Don’t be like that, angel.”
 His hands run smoothly up your side, taking in every curve of you. “I know I upset you but you can’t act like you don’t want me. What happened to you forgiving me?”
His lips brush over yours slowly as he whispers. “I want you so badly, I wanna be with you tonight. Stay here with me.” You smile against him as the towel containing your hair slips off of your head and your damp curls curtain around the two of you. You run your hands up his chest, taking in each and every toned dip before you whisper back. “Get out.” You peck his lips and push him away from you with a smile.
“You’re making a mistake.” He pleads with wide eyes blown with anguish. “He doesn’t make you feel like I do, you know that.” Your ringtone bounces off of the walls before you get a chance to answer him. You reach across your mattress and smile when you see Jeongin’s name.
“You’re right.” You shrug, swiping to answer the call. “He makes me feel so much better.” Hyunjin’s jaw clenches as you press the phone to your ear with a smile. You greet his best friend with a sweet tone that used to be exclusively for him. Hyunjin is practically invisible to you as you buzz around your room grabbing accessories and planning your outfit. It isn’t until he grabs your wrist on your way to your vanity that you look at him again.
“Please don’t do this.” Jeongin’s voice is heard from the receiver before you can answer the man in front of you.
“Who’s that, baby?” He asks, and you smile as Hyunjin deflates.
 “No one.” You shrug off Hyunjin’s hold and he deflates as you passively wave him away. “That’s no one.”
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Tag List: @dessianna1, @foxytoxxic, @snxfall (If you asked to be tagged and you weren't it's because you did not have your age in your bio. You MUST have your age in your bio to be tagged )
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linopls · 7 months
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linopls kinktober list '23
depending on the prompt, it could be a drabble or a 2k-4k words. please let me know which one your most excited for and please leave requests for the 31st !! (i ran out of ideas lol.)
choking jeongin x reader
titfucking seungmin x reader
makeup sex minho x reader
roleplay hyunjin x reader
first time jeongin x reader
teasing minho x reader
virginity chan x reader
breeding hyunjin x reader
oral chan x reader
praise kink changbin x reader
humiliation minho x reader
somnophilia jisung x reader
size kink changbin x reader
orgasm denial felix x reader
degradation seungmin x reader
double penetration vocalracha x reader
foursome 3racha x reader
voyeurism danceracha x reader
spanking jeongin x reader
shower sex felix x reader
lingerie jisung x reader
bondage seungmin x reader
deep throating chan x reader
sex toys hyunjin x reader
edge play changbin x reader
masturbation jisung x reader
sexting felix x reader
daddy chan x reader
public minho x reader
overstimulation jeongin x reader
request !
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gyusrose · 4 months
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➵ their reaction when you call them another member’s name prank -> enha
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⚠︎ angst? lil bit of fluff ? just the boys getting angry real quick, mild cursing
someone requested this but i accidentally deleted the request i’m so sorry 😭‼️‼️
_______________________________________________
heeseung -> you know you shouldn’t pull such prank on hee, knowing how jealous he gets you were pretty much starting something you won’t be able to finish. you were feeling silly that day and decided to do it , why the hell not?
heeseung was sitting next to you on the bed you guys shared. he’s just gotten back from practice so he was very touchy and clingy. kissing all over your face and neck repeatedly , completely missing the camera facing the both of you. this was the perfect time. you giggled as he kissed you trying to push him away slightly.
“sunghoon stop-“ you said in between laughs.
the moment that name fell out of your mouth, he stopped. his whole demeanor changed in a matter of seconds.
“what did you just call me?” his voice was deep and serious.
“heeseung? that’s your name isn’t it?”
“no no no you said sunghoon, i heard it clearly, the fuck’s going on with you and him hm?” you looked at him like you were confused on what he was talking about.
“ what? nothing! i said heeseung you’re just paranoid.” he scoffed, now getting out of bed and made his way out of the room.
you giggled as you grabbed the phone recording and ran up behind him.
“babe !! it was just a prank, don’t leave!” he looked at the camera and rolled his eyes, facing anything but you.
“aw come on hee, it was funny !! you should’ve seen your face”
“don’t you scare me like that.”
sunghoon -> you and sunghoon were driving around the city. it was such a nice peaceful night. the two of you were just talking about your days when you thought of a not so great idea.
when sunghoon wasn’t looking you pulled up the camera app on your phone, knowing you’re gonna want this reaction saved. propping your phone were the two of you were on frame but also not making it obvious.
sunghoon was talking about something when you butted in.
“yeah that’s i’m saying jake- hoonie…sunghoon.” sunghoon stayed silent, side eyeing you slightly while still watching the road. you also stayed silent after your ‘mistake’ , waiting for his response.
the sudden break of the car startled you.
“say his name one more damn time..” sunghoon sternly said, now facing you.
“it was a mistake, you know i meant sunghoon!”
“you both are not even that close, we’ll not that i know of, why did his name come out of your mouth before mines? your own boyfriend?” his eyes never left yours, low key making you scared, you could feel his anger.
“you’re overreacting, just keep driving.”
“if you like the fucker so much then go be with him since-“ he stopped his tracks as he saw the small camera from your phone pointing straight at him.
it all immediately clicked in his head rubbing his temples and shaking his head in annoyance. you in the other hand couldn’t contain your laughter.
“smile you’re on camera” you said giving him a peck on his cheek.
“you had me thinking jake was better than me or something.”
jongseong-> going into the kitchen, smelling the enchanting smell of breakfast was the best feeling of the world, even more so, seeing the sight of your gorgeous boyfriend making it.
“ my princess is awake! sit down it’s almost ready.”
you sat down on the stole in from of him, watching him make the omelette on the skillet.
although you just woke up, you couldn’t help but think about this one prank you’ve been wanting to do on him for a while now. what a perfect way to start the morning right?
you started secretly recording as you continued the conversation with him like normal.
“ you look so fine right now heeseung, you’re perfect.”
jay’s hands dropped the fork he was using and slowly looked up at you.
while you looked at him with wide eyes ‘confused’ .
“ i’m sorry?” he was very offended, how could you even compare him to heeseung? what does heeseung have on you that would make you say his name all of a sudden?
“what ? you don’t like me calling you perfect?”
“you know what you said, y’all got something going on or?” he was not standing with his arms crossed, the most serious expression i’ve ever seen on his face.
“oh my god no jay! what makes you think that! i don’t even know what i did!”
“my name doesn’t even sound close to heeseung’s! you know what, i’m calling him right now an-“
“no no no babe stop stop it’s a prank look!” you showed him your phone recording.
his head leaned back letting out the biggest sigh.
“ it’s too damn early for this, don’t do that to me ever again.”
jaeyun -> “ babe let me teach you this new dance pleasee..” you said panning up the camera ask as you started recording.
jake sat up from his seat making his way to where you were standing. he was more than pleased, he loves this stuff.
“alright so you do this, then lift your arms up and then..” you kept explaining to him the made up dance you’re making him do, him following your every move. jake’s never seen this dance before, nevertheless he continues to copy you.
“but do this part really fast.” jake nodded at you doing the part you told him to do. now’s the time.
you shook your head, “ no jungwon, not that fast, like this!”
jake stood still, looking at you intently. “what? you did the move too fast now we gotta restart.”
“stop playing with me, the fuck did you just call me? jungwon?”
“ugh jake you’re probably mishearing, i said your name.”
“not at all i heard it very clear, what up with that?” he was annoyed and mad. what does jungwon have to do with any of this?
“jake calm down, i just mistook you guys, there’s a lot of you so-“
“but i’m your boyfriend! or is he? i don’t know what to believe anymore!”
you should’ve been laughing but you weren’t, you felt bad. you pulled jake into a tight hug catching off guard.
“it’s a joke, look. you know i love you and only you jakey.”
jake didn’t respond and kissed your lips passionately, you could feel the anger dissolving as the both of your lips connected.
sunwoo -> the two of you were occupied building a lego set. you loved spending time with sunoo like this, you were both pretty good at it.
y’all were conversing as you build your tower. sunoo was never in a bad mood with you, his smile is always present with your presence, so arguments almost never happen.
you shouldn’t have wanted to do this but you wanted to see how he would get, how would jealousy look on him. obviously not too harsh as well.
“ jay- i mean sunoo could you pass me the red piece over there.” you said signalling.
sunoo just stared at you in confusion, did he hear that correctly ?
“ say what?”
“could you pass me the piece?”
“no before that..”
“sunoo could you pass me the piece?”
“no, you said jay could you pass me the piece, then sunoo. why jay huh? “ his voice got louder making you startle.
“erm-no i just- i meant you. not him.”
he rans a hand through his hair sighing in annoyance. jay? really?
you couldn’t hold it in anymore and pinched his cheek. his eyebrows furrowed at your actions. how dare you do that after you pretty much cheated on him.
“it’s a prank baby, the camera’s right there! don’t be mad at me…” sunoo just sulked and pouted on his seat. no matter what, he always managed to look adorable.
“that wasn’t funny.”
jungwon -> the two of you were cuddling in bed watching television. every friday night would be spent like this and you weren’t complaining. having barely anytime for the two of you, times like these were immensely enjoyed by the two of you.
you didn’t want to ruin it but curiosity got the best of you. as jungwon’s eyes were on the television, you placed your phone on the nightstand to get at least the view of jungwon.
“ri-ki could you turn up the volume? “
his hands that were once tangled around your waist, disappeared hearing what you just said.
“ excuse you? i’m not ri-ki, since when are the two of you close like that? “ he sat up on the bed looking straight at you anticipating for your response.
“i meant to say jungwon, you. i got nothing with ri-ki.”
jungwon scoffed, “his legal name even, you’re not fooling me, what’s he to you?” your eyes widened at his demeanour. he was very angry. it was a rare sight to see.
“calm down, i just made a mistake. that’s it end of story.”
“you know what maybe you should be with him instead of me since apparently he’s more important than you own boyfriend.” he said getting up from the bed ready to leave.
“wonie! i’m just kidding, it’s all a joke.” you said showing the phone recording.
“oh my god you’re evil !! why would you do that? also why didn’t i notice the obvious phone looking straight at me?” he rolled his eyes walking back to the bed.
riki -> “don’t cry if you lose again.” niki said as he grabbed the controller and pressed the rematch button.
you rolled your eyes at his words. you were not bad but not good at the same time. he should be making you feel better instead of just laughing at you every time he kills you. as the two of you fought the last round, showing the K.O on the screen you sighed in frustration.
“babe just admit it, i’m just too good.” he chuckled, you weren’t going to take it. you smirked at the idea that just popped in your head, grabbing your phone and discreetly started recording.
“one more time.” you said, niki shook his head at your stubbornness but agreed on it anyways.
as you were fighting, y’all were just yelling stuff at each other trying to make the other lose.
“sunoo, can’t get up?” you said loud enough for him to hear you over the game.
his thumbs left the game controller giving you more than enough time to beat him and win (for the first time)
as you cheered, you looked over at niki and saw an emotionless face on his end.
“aww someone’s mad they lost!”
“it’s not about that, at all.” he glared at you.
“oh really?”
“sunoo? are you for real?”
“what are you talking about?”
“you called me sunoo, don’t play dumb. do i look like sunoo to you?”
“no ni-ki, you must be mistaken, i said ni-ki.” you said emphasizing his name.
he rubbed his forehead in frustration, he’s getting gaslighted right now.
“so you and sunoo hm? how’s it going for y’all?”
“ni-ki what? you know sunoo’s like a brother to me!”
“yea that’s what they all say..” he said under his breath.
“i’m not staying here, i need some space.” he said not before you grabbed his hand and engulfed him in a hug. ni-ki, though, pulled away.
“ask sunoo to give you a hug.”
“ni-ki!! it’s a joke! a prank you know? there’s my phone, right in your face!!”
ni-ki was still annoyed, he hated pranks on him.
“don’t prank me like that! it’s not that funny.” he said looking at you laugh in his face.
“so you can prank me all the time but i can’t?”
“exactly .”
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mnwrld · 1 month
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do you still hate valentine's day? | yang jeongin x fem ! reader
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ANGST & FLUFF & SMUT & BEST FRIEND ! JEONGIN & FEM ! READER & MORE UNDER THE CUT ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
valentine’s day is kind of dreary when you’ve been in love with your best friend for years. it’s even worse when said best friend goes on a date with another girl. 
warnings. swearing, love confessions, lots of kissing, slight dry humping (?), penetrative (p in v) sex, protected sex, fingering (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, slight possessiveness, cumming together, sweet aftercare, smut w very little plot
word count. 3.9k words
note. i haven't written like... just smut in a while so hopefully this is okay </3 happy valentine's day everyone !! enjoy my little gift to you <3
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Your throat burned and your lungs ached as you willed tears away. You were determined not to cry. You refused to. And still, as you watched your best friend walk hand in hand with a girl who wasn’t you, you cried. You held yourself together as long as you could, but it was in vain. Bit by bit, broken pieces of your heart drifted away, just out of reach, and you couldn’t seem to grab them back. Your stomach was a mess of knotted feelings. Anger? Not quite. Jealousy was probably more accurate. 
You couldn’t understand what you’d been doing wrong. You were the one who was there for him all these years. You’d thought your feelings were obvious. Maybe they were and he just didn’t care. And of course, you knew you couldn’t make him feel the same way for you as you did for him. Still, the rejection burned. You felt invisible. Were you a ghost? A figment of some poor soul’s imagination? 
But when he showed up on your doorstep after his date, grin spread wide across his perfect face, you knew you were real. The pain was evidence enough. 
“Hey!” 
You stepped aside, letting him into your apartment. “Hi, Jeongin.” 
Jeongin turned to you, frowning a little. It wasn’t very often that you called him “Jeongin.” You usually only used his name like that when you were upset with him. He was too used to the nicknames you’d always called him that it was a clear sign something was wrong when you called him by his name. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, hoping he would just drop it. You sat back down on your couch, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders and unpausing the movie you’d put on. 
“Hey, come on,” he pouted, sitting next to you and placing his backpack on the floor in front of him. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Cheer up!” 
You’d tried so hard to be optimistic. Sometimes when he looked at you or spoke to you, you could almost imagine that he liked you. But a second later, it was back to “just friends.” Did he think you were a foolish child? Maybe you were. Foolish to think he’d ever have his eyes on you. It would never be more than just a dream you rarely dared to dream. 
“You know I don’t really like Valentine’s Day, Innie,” you mumbled, trying not to let the tears that had pooled in your eyes spill over. 
You heard him digging around in his backpack but you didn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at him. He sat up again and leaned into you. “Well, I got you something anyways. I knew you’d just be sitting here alone, so I wanted to do something for you.” 
You looked over at him finally, eyes widening at the things he held in his hands. A small box of chocolates. Your favorite flowers—the ones that grew in his family’s garden. And a stuffed animal you’d told him you wanted months ago. Moments like these, it was hard to believe he didn’t have feelings for you. Considering he just went on a date, however, you knew that he didn’t.
“Innie, you didn’t have to.”
“I know,” he smiled at you, pushing the items towards you. “But I wanted to. You deserve something nice on Valentine’s Day, even if you don’t particularly like the day.” 
A voice in your head was screaming at you to get out before it was too late. The voice told you it was time to give up. The voice told you to make him leave. The voice told your heart to stop beating so fast when his fingers brushed over yours. You wanted nothing more than to listen to the voice in your head. You wanted to get out before it was too late, wanted your heart to stop beating so fast when he said your name. And yet, you couldn’t let go. Having these quiet, painful moments with him were better than none at all. 
“Well, thanks Innie.” 
He grinned and nodded in response. After a few minutes of silence, Jeongin started to tell you about his date and the girl he’d been with. You tried to pay attention. Tried to listen. Tried to be supportive. But you couldn’t stop the insecurities that ebbed into your stream of thoughts—couldn’t stop the jealousy. Of course he wanted her. She was beautiful and funny and smart and she wasn’t like a sister to him.
“She sounds great, Innie.” 
“She was cool, yeah.” Jeongin looked like a giddy little kid in a candy store. But the happiness left his eyes when he looked at you, trying to hold back your tears (and failing miserably). “Hey, don’t worry! We’ll find you someone too!”
But you didn’t want just anybody. You wanted Jeongin. He could never be yours, but you wanted him. Of course, you couldn’t tell him that. So you just offered him a weak smile and nodded a little before fixing your eyes forward on the TV again, ignoring the burning in your throat and the painful beating of your heart. 
Another friend of yours had told you to stop pining after Jeongin. If it was that easy, you would have already done it by now. You wish you could listen to the voice inside of you that warned you not to chase after people who didn’t want you. You wished you could listen to your friends when they told you to save your energy for people who would willingly invest their time into you. But it wasn’t that simple. Not when Jeongin unintentionally gave you hope with every gummy smile, every brush of his hand against yours, every kind action and word. 
Since you couldn’t give up on him, you would just smile and say that you were fine if anyone asked how you were doing. You didn’t think anyone would understand if you told them it felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. You didn’t think you could say that the only person you wanted was the only person you couldn’t have. You couldn’t explain that it was that very person who had ripped out your heart and who held it in their hands. 
You wanted to scream at him. If you’re going to be with someone else, just stop giving me false hope! But you couldn’t. Because he didn’t even know you liked him. And you wanted it to stay that way. So you kept your mouth shut tight. You couldn’t let this secret slip past your chapped lips. 
“Do you want me to stay the night?” 
Jeongin’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Did you want him to stay the night? Would that even be a good idea? It would just be another contributor to the hope you couldn’t harbor. But he was your best friend and you’d had plenty of sleepovers before. If you said no would it be suspicious?
“Sure, if you want to.” 
He smiled and nodded. “Do you still have some of my clothes in your closet? I want to wear something more comfortable.” 
“Yeah, there should be some sweatpants and t-shirts in my closet that are yours.” 
When Jeongin left your side you allowed yourself to think again. You thought about what it might be like if he loved you. You thought about him and his perfect smile and his perfect hands and all the ways he made you laugh. You thought about how he knew you better than anyone else did. Jeongin… You pushed it away. You had to stop.
He walked back into the living room and sat beside you once more, closer this time. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling the blanket over his body and yours. And it was like a dam broke. The only thing in your mind was his name. 
Jeongin. Jeongin. Jeongin. Jeongin. 
“You’ve been quiet all night. What are you thinking about?” 
You.
“How shitty this holiday is.” 
He laughed softly and brushed your hair away from your face. You didn’t look at him as he spoke. “You only say that because you’ve always been single on Valentine’s Day.” 
“Maybe.” You fell quiet again. Was he right? Did you hate Valentine’s Day because it was a stupid capitalist holiday that made money off of people’s love? Or did you hate Valentine’s Day because you’d never had someone special to spend it with? 
“Seriously though,” he turned you over in his arms so that you were looking him in the eye. “What’s got you so sad? I know you hate today, but I’ve never seen you so sad.” 
Today is the first Valentine’s Day that you had a date for. Why couldn’t it be me?
“It’s nothing, Innie, I promise. I’m just feeling more tired than usual.” 
“See, if I didn’t know you, I might buy that. But I know you. Better than anyone. Better than myself. You know you can tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was gentle, but it didn’t make you feel better. 
I can’t tell you. You’re the only person I can’t tell. 
“It’s really nothing. I promise.” 
“Pinky promise?” 
He held out his pinky and you looped yours through his nodding and smiling at him. You would never tell him what was really wrong. You would never risk your perfect friendship over something like this. You could suffer through this as long as it meant you could keep him in your life. 
Jeongin sighed and kissed your forehead, suddenly looking anxious. “Can I tell you a secret, yn?” 
“Of course you can,” you breathed back, trying to calm your racing heart. 
“I didn’t want to go on that date tonight.” He was quiet for a long moment, but you had the feeling he wasn’t done yet, so you stayed quiet. After another long moment, he sighed again. “I just wanted to stay with you and watch a shitty movie and eat shitty convenience store snacks and tell you those shitty pick-up lines you hate so much. It wasn’t the same without you.”
“Jeongin, I—”
“I think that… I think maybe I’m in love with you.” 
You breathed in sharply and pushed away from him, panicked. Wasn’t this what you’d always wanted to hear? But what if he didn’t mean it. What if it was a lie? What if it was a prank or a dare? What if it didn’t mean what you thought it meant. “D-don’t say that—”
“Maybe I’m stupid for falling for my best friend,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You can hate me in the morning. But can I at least have tonight with you?” 
You whimpered as he buried his face in your neck, wanting nothing more than to spend the night with him. You couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. They spilled over your cheeks and you tried to keep your body from shaking so he wouldn’t notice. 
“I’ll never hate you, Innie. But I don’t know if this is a good idea.” 
He looked up at you, his own eyes filled with tears. “Why not?”
“You don’t mean it.” 
“What do you mean? Y-you think I don’t mean that I love you? That I’m in love with you?” He sat up quickly, pulling you with him so that you were seated in his lap. He grabbed your hands, fear playing in his eyes. 
“I-I mean, how could you? This is coming completely out of the blue and you just went on a date with someone else—”
“I love you.” He stopped you, eyes big and sad as he ran his thumbs over your knuckles absentmindedly. “I love you so much. And I’ve been in love with you for, like, three years now. I just never knew how to say it. And honestly, I didn’t think you’d love me back. I didn’t want to ruin what we had. And then this year, when that girl asked me to go on a date with her for Valentine’s Day, I didn’t know how to say ‘no’ and I figured you didn’t like me anyway, so I should just try to move on. But then I came back here after the date and I knew I couldn’t be with anyone who wasn’t you so I—”
“Jeongin, breathe.” You stopped him with a hand on his chest, placed carefully over his heart. You could feel how fast his heart was beating and you knew yours was beating just as fast. 
He placed a hand over your heart too and took a deep breath. You felt his chest expanding beneath your fingers. “I love you. I know that I do. And I know it’s not just as a friend. I’m in love with you.” 
Really, this was the best outcome you could have hoped for, but you were still wary. If you admitted you felt the same and he eventually broke your heart, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to put the pieces back together. Then again, if he was being genuine and you let him think you didn’t feel the same, it would break his heart, and that almost hurt more. 
“Jeongin, I love you but I’m terrified.” 
“Why are you scared?” He leaned in, forehead against your shoulder as he breathed out in relief. “It’s just me.” 
“That’s exactly it though. It’s you. And you’re perfect. You’re funny and smart and kind and so handsome and you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and I’m so scared that I won’t be what you’re imagining.” 
He laughed again and looked up at you, his head still against your shoulder. “I’m not imagining anything. I know you. Did you forget the part where we’ve been best friends pretty much our whole lives? There’s practically nothing about you that I don’t know. And there’s certainly nothing about you that I don’t love.” 
“Whatever,” you scoffed, pushing him off of you playfully. “That’s definitely a lie because just yesterday you told me that it was annoying when I—”
“Sure there are things that annoy me sometimes. I’m sure I’m annoying too. But those are habits and quirks that are a part of you. And I love all of you. So even if it’s annoying, I love it. Because I love you.” 
“Jeongin,” you whispered, suddenly serious. 
“What?” 
“I want you to kiss me.” 
He wasted no time pressing his lips to yours. It was everything you’d hoped for—dreamed about. Of course he was a good kisser. Of course his mouth on yours was perfect. Of course it felt like he was made for you. You felt giddy and restless and you pushed him away—only for a second, only so you could breathe. 
“Jeongin,” you whispered against his lips. Not for any particular reason. You just wanted to say his name. Wanted him to hear it. You hoped he could hear how desperate he made you. How much you wanted him. 
He pulled away further and you pouted. He shook his head. “I-I can’t—I mean, if we don’t stop now, I don’t—I don’t think I can stop myself from wanting more.” 
Oh. Your sweet boy. Could you even call him yours? It didn’t matter. He was so sweet and thoughtful. 
But you didn’t care about sweet. You’d been dreaming about him for years and you were feeling a little insatiable and you needed him. You pulled him back to you and kissed him. He kissed back, of course he did. His hands fell to your hips and he held you still on his lap. 
“Yn,” he gasped your name and you felt lightheaded. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me. Sh-shit, do you want this? I don’t—don’t wanna force you—fuck—” 
You rolled your hips against his, biting back a whimper as you felt him hardening beneath you. You wanted to know what he would feel like inside of you. Jeongin didn’t exactly sleep around, but he was well-known as a good fuck. And wouldn’t it be even better since the two of you were in love? You wanted him so badly.
“God, yes, Jeongin—I-I want you. Want this. Please.” Your voice felt airy and choked and you knew you sounded absolutely fucked and he hadn’t even done anything. You didn’t care. You’d wanted this for so long and Jeongin wouldn’t judge you for wanting him. Because he wanted you too. At least, that’s what he said.
He nodded and his hips bucked up into yours. He threw his head back against the couch, a light moan falling from his lips. He sounded so hot. “Fuck, okay—o-okay. Do you—can we—I don’t want our first time to be on your fucking couch, can we go back to your room?” 
“Please—”
He pushed you gently and you crawled off of him. He led you back to your room, kissing your hands. “C’mon baby, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.” 
When you made it to your bedroom, you settled into your bed and he followed you, hovering slightly over you so he didn't crush you beneath him. You reached up, threading your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him into another bruising kiss, desperate for more of him. All of him. You’d wanted him so badly for so long. 
He slid his tongue into your mouth when you groaned softly, and you let him, eager for him in a way you didn’t realize you could be. He ground his hips down into yours, moaning lowly as he tried to resist, but you just made it so difficult for him. You dragged your hands down from the back of his neck, over his chest, stopping at the hem of his sweatpants. He pulled away from you to watch as you pulled them down his legs.
He sat up and tugged his t-shirt over his head before leaning down to kiss you again, nipping at your lips softly. You pushed him away slightly, guiding his hand into your shorts to feel in between your legs. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck, you’re so wet already—” 
“For you—” 
“Shit.”
He pulled your shorts down and reached for your shirt, asking you silently if you wanted it off. You answered him by grabbing the hem and taking it off yourself. He groaned again at the sight of you, braless before him, moving quickly to kiss your neck and your shoulders and your collarbones before finally stopping to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking perfectly. You whined as he mouthed at your skin, groping your other tit with a skilled hand. He eventually moved to give the same attention to your other nipple, showing you so much care you felt like you might explode.
You’d always wondered what sex with Jeongin would be like. You hadn’t imagined it would ever be this good.
"J-Jeongin," you moaned, "I need you so bad."
 "Gotta stretch you out first,” he murmured, reaching to pull your panties off too and leave you completely bare before him. “Get you nice and ready for my cock. Don't wanna hurt you, baby."
You gasped as two of his perfect fingers pushed their way slowly into your entrance, sliding in easily because of how wet you already were. He wasted no time pumping them in and out of you and scissoring you open, trying to stretch you as much as possible to make it easier to take his dick. He added a third finger for extra measure and you felt like you were on cloud nine. You grabbed his wrist, stopping him from pumping into you again.
"Don't wanna cum yet, Innie. Wanna make this last. I-I love you so much."
His heart swelled at the sweet nickname and your profession of love and he kissed you chastely on the lips, slipping his boxers down and grabbing a condom from the top drawer of the bedside table when you opened it. You giggled as he rolled it onto his length and he eyed you warily, pouting a little. "Why are you laughing at me?"
"It's just cute that you’re so eager for me. I guess you have wanted me for a long time."
“Oh, shut up. You have no idea. O-Of course I’m desperate for you. You’re my best friend, I love you so fucking much, and you’re hot as fuck.” He rolled his eyes before positioning his tip at your entrance. His dark eyes connected with yours, once more asking for permission and you nodded. You were just as eager to know how he would feel inside of you. 
He took a deep breath and slowly pushed in, hissing at the feeling of your tight walls around his dick. You moaned at the stretch, eyes rolling back in your head as he fully sheathed himself inside of you, pumping in and out slowly to give you time to adjust. “Oh my god, you’re fucking perfect. Holy fuck.”
"You can go f-faster, Innie," you whined, reaching up to grip his shoulders tightly and pull him closer to you.
He grabbed one of your legs, carefully throwing it over his shoulder so he could pump his cock in deeper. You moaned loudly as his tip nudged against your g-spot with each thrust, borderline screaming as he increased the pacing of his hips. He was so perfect. 
“F-feels so good, Innie."
"Yeah? You like that? Fuck, you're so tight, yn. Love it so much. You take my dick so well. Like you were made for me to fuck you. Made for me," he gasped in response. Your brain was fuzzy and you moaned at his words, feeling yourself drawing closer and closer to your high. All you’d ever wanted was to be his.
You squeezed your eyes shut tight as he continued to ram into you, “So close, Innie. I'm s-so close. Gonna cum."
"Fuck, baby, me too. Wanna cum with you. Just a little longer." He continued thrusting rhythmically, holding you as close to him as possible as he thrusted as deep as he could. "You're doing so good for me, baby. So so good. My good girl."
You moaned loudly, clenching around his dick as he thrusted particularly hard, sending you over the edge. You clung to him as he helped you ride out your high, spilling his seed into the condom moments later. He rolled off of you, pulling the condom off and tying the end. He crawled out of your bed to discard the condom and get a washcloth to clean you up. You pouted as he left.
He came back only a few minutes later with a glass of water, a warm washcloth, and fresh clothes for you to wear. He laid back down beside you, cleaning you up gently with the washcloth and setting the clean clothes on the bed beside you. He offered you the glass of water and you drank it all, handing back the empty glass. Only then did he wrap you in his arms again, holding you close to his chest. 
“How are you feeling?” He asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. 
You smiled up at him. “I’ll be sore in the morning but it’s worth it. Thank you. For tonight. For everything.” 
“You don’t have to thank me,” he shook his head, eyes falling shut. “I love you. Like, a lot. I’m really glad we… did this. And I’m really glad you love me back.” 
“Me too.”
After a long moment of silence, Jeongin spoke again. “So, do you still hate Valentine’s Day?” 
You couldn’t help but laugh. The answer was pretty obvious. Of course you didn’t hate Valentine’s Day anymore. Not when you finally had everything you’d ever wanted. 
────────────────────────────
i hope you all enjoyed 'do you still hate valentine's day?' and are looking forward to more of my future works. if you enjoyed this and would like to be added to my permanent taglist, please fill out the taglist form here !
© mnwrld 2024
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midmourn · 14 days
Text
break ups with nct dream
♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre angst warnings break ups, unhealthy coping, insecurities, some members dont think of themselves very highly, unintentional manipulation maybe ?? ( library )
mark who can’t stop pretending like everything’s fine. mark who is for once thankful of his busy schedule. because when his mind isn’t preoccupied, he finds it always going back to you. now, you only come to his mind late at night when he’s about to fall asleep only to wake up in four hours for yet another schedule. there’s a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realizes the heartbreak is just as fresh as it was the moment it happened. thinks he let you go to easy but also respects you too much to argue. at this time, he’d be too busy talking to you on the phone to fall asleep. something he used to momentarily regret the next day, but now something he yearns for. he turns around and begs hypos to let him sleep.
renjun who wants to scream at the world and god and ask why is this happening. renjun who refuses to talk about it. he doesn’t understand what happened. he thought you guys were doing perfectly fine. you seemed happy, anyway. he can’t tell if he was just too blind to see that you actually were unhappy or if you were just a good actor. he finds himself thinking about what you’re doing, even when he’s busy. he misses you so bad that he’s so angry that you left. he gets even angrier when he sees you with another guy a couple weeks later. but he’s more angry at himself for letting you go. he thinks it’s easier to be angry than upset.
jeno who cries and then gets his emotions out at the gym. jeno who hits the punching bag so hard it manages to fall off the chain. he moves onto the wall next. he ignores the concerned stares from others about the bruises and split knuckles, but is the exact same otherwise. he thinks he’s doing okay, getting his emotions out in the form of his fists, because at least he’s still doing what he needed to do, right? he’s fine, he swears. when he’s laying in bed alone, he can’t help but wonder what you’re up to and type up a message that accidentally seems too much like a booty call. u up? wyd?
haechan who doesn’t have the energy to be his normal self. haechan who is too quiet, blends in with the walls when he’s normally the life of the party. his voice is literally hoarse from crying and begging you to stay for so long. he sends countless messages to you, enough to the point where you blocked him. people wonder where he is only to find out he’s been right next to them the entire time, thoughts consuming him. he spends time overthinking every decision he made in the last six months that led you to break up with him. he can’t find one. it must be him, though. you’d never break up with him without a reason, right? he wasn’t good enough for you, so he has to be better. and with that, he gets off his ass and forces himself into the conversation. he will be better, for you.
jaemin who is so mature when you bring it up. jaemin who doesn’t cry or act like he’s upset about it in front of others. people think he never loved you with the way he acts. that couldn’t be far from the truth. the only way he’ll grieve over your relationship is in his room, alone, with his babies. he accepts your decision, but the what if’s consume his thoughts. what if he hadn’t done that one thing you got angry at him for? what if he hadn’t missed your anniversary date? but he knows he was a good boyfriend, too. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over you, doesn’t want to, but he knows he has to. he can only hope that you two will find each other later in life.
chenle who fights harder than he’s ever fought. chenle who wants to work it out. ultimately, you win. he cannot help but be a little bit pissed on how difficult you’re being, how you refuse to talk it out and avoid him. he doesn’t even know what happened. he doesn’t think you’re going to stay broken up so he doesn’t even bother shedding a tear. he thinks it’ll be something you two will laugh and then bicker about in fifty years. thinks you’re trying to make him jealous when you try to move on, and it works. doesn’t think before finally cornering you. he gave you your space, now it’s time for you to give him the answers he wants.
jisung who doesn’t understand the concept of space. jisung who has attachment issues. he’ll text you “good morning” and “good night” and tell you about his day without thinking about it because it’s like a routine for him by now. feels so bad and accidentally makes you feel bad for him with his countless apologies. will tweet about you on his priv and forget you’re still on there. doesn’t even want to think about you moving on, and him moving on is out of the question. he truly thought you were his soulmate, but he wanted you to come back to him in your own terms. he’ll spend forever making it up to you, anyway.
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yuyu1024 · 2 months
Text
Escape
Pairings: Yoongi × y/n
Genre/tags: Arranged marriage
Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, Smoking, jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, oral (m/f receiving), mention of blood/violence
~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 5.8k
Disclaimer:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
Note: continuation of Prisoner.
I hope this is a good part 2. 🙏🏻 took me a while coz idk if i should or not. 😅 sorry guys.
(This may continue a bit more...? But please be patient 🙏🏻 as I do have work & usually I try to write before i sleep but lately i've beeen so tired and drained that I cant even function 😅)
***
Another day, another event to go to. You are wearing your best 'pretend' smile. The smile you have practiced for months, to be your default expression whenever you meet anyone in any formal event. It's not that your trying to be fake. You just want to represent your husband the best that you can. And being a shy person, this is what you can do to help yourself.
Although, you wish, that even just one time, Yoongi would show up to these events with you.
At the first month of your marriage, he did. He did that to introduce you to everybody. You could still remember how you two were holding hands and always together. Those were the days when you have spent so much time with him.
But... Now, it's just always you. Alone. Amongst everyone in the whole place, you are the only one who always arrives with no partner.
"Excuse me?"
You twirl around and find the prettiest girl you think you have ever seen in your life. She looks like a goddess.
"Ahm, yes?" Your voice sounded so weak. You haven't said a word in the last hour.
"You are the only one wearing a corsage with a hint of lilac flowers in it... I'm guessing... you are Yoongi's wife?" She asks
"Ah, yes. I am." You look down at the flower pinned on your chest
She's smiling at you. She looks sort of happy to see you. "Finally... I've met you."
You haven't said a word. You are not sure how to approach this. You have no idea who she is and why is she approaching you. Plus, You are sort of intimidated by her. She is a beautiful, a sophisticated woman. She have this energy from her that says she is different than anyone else. You could feel your difference with her. Though you are covered with all highend brands of clothing and accessories. You can still see it.
"Oh, sorry... if I'm invading your personal time..." she says, "I am a friend of Yoongi... well... an old friend... from University" she explains. "Sarang."
"Oh." You smile and bow. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N... I'm sorry... I've not met any of his friends yet so...I didn't know..."
"It's fine. I understand."
She looks like she came from a regal family, the same level as Yoongi. Also, her beauty.... takes your breathe away. She remind you of how you reacted the first time you saw Yoongi. In awe.
"Thank you for coming here also..." she says as she walks you around the gallery. "I hope you find something to your liking here that... would be a part of your home or either a gift to anyone you love."
As you two talk more, you learned that she's the one that threw this charity event. She gathered all these arts from known artists, to auction. She says that 100% of the earnings from it will go to the children's hospital that she have been donating ever since.
You have just met her and you are already at amazed by her. Not by just her prominent looks but also the way she talks and speaks her mind is very inspiring and uplifting. Because of her words you find it easy buying two items in the collection. You know all of the money will go and be used for something good.
You chose the items, the two that caught your attention the moment you entered the gallery. Both are paintings of a beautiful flowerfield which reminds you of your past. The field where you would always go with your friends and have picnic during summer break.
Such beautiful memory that you wish you could've not taken for granted. You wish you could re-live those moments again. And the paintings, those paintings you chose might go well in your own study room.
"It's nice meeting you..." she says, cutting you from reminiscencing your past
"Thank you too for inviting us.. though... my husband couldn't come..."
She smiles, lips pressed together. "He hasn't changed at all. Not very social and just focused on just working..."
Hmm.. The way she talks, the way she describes your husband is very detailed. She seem to know him pretty well. 'They are friends' you say to yourself but then at the back of your mind, a thought, just a tiny thought about him and her, is peaking through.
'Is she an ex of his?'
'If not an ex... probably... someone who liked him?'
I know, this is no place nor time to think about these but you can't help it.
Look at her and then you look at yourself. You two are totally opposites. From status to looks. And probably from personaly to intelligence. She is more than you. She is perfect. You think that he and Yoongi might or will get along more than you and him.
"Ahm... I ahm..." you start to feel uncomfortable with all of your self pity thoughts. You need to get a hold of yourself. "Sorry... I'll... I'll just go to the bar and have some drink..." you say as you clutch on to your dress.
"Oh. Okay." Sarang says. "You want me to accompany you...?"
You shake your head, "No... thank you... don't mind me... please go ahead and tour the rest of the guest." You say pointing at the newly arrived guests.
You turn around immediately before she could response again.
This is weird. You're not sure why you suddenly have the urge to drink. Even though you don't drink. Also because, you can't. Literally, can't.
You only drink red wine when you are offered to drink, by Yoongi of course. It's only when he asks you to join him during nights when he needs company or if you two are to discuss things about the family.
You don't drink also because you are a lightweight. You get tipsy and red easily. One time when you had more than three glasses of red with your husband, you instantly changed personality. You have no idea how and what changed besides the stories that your maid said the day after which were embarassing.
You have no recollection of anything besides the fact that you were on the sofa, inside Yoongi's home office, butt naked and only have Yoongi's blazer on you.
"Mrs. Min, what can I get you?" The cute guy behind the bar asks as you reach your destination.
"How... do you know who I am?"
He smiles, "We had the lists of the guests coming tonight... with photos." He pours water into a glass
"With details...? who can and cannot drink... I suppose?"
He nods. "Your husband noted... to not serve any alcohol to you Miss."
"Even... I want to? Or... pay?"
"I'm sorry Miss..." he says, "If you like we can offer you our non-alcohol champagne?"
You sigh heavily. You badly want to drink. Even just one glass to calm yourself. But...you can't. Yoongi have rules and you cannot avoid and disobey them.
He does give you the freedom to do whatever you want but when it comes to what not to do or what he likes, he have a handful.
1. Don't cut your hair short
2. Don't drink when he's not present nor ordered by him
3. Don't leave the house without atleast one body guard
4. Don't wear perfume (he gets dizzy)
5. Use the safeword during sex
And etc.
The rules are quite simple. Nothing to weird nor to hard to follow. It's just you compromising. And also, you do have a hard time saying no to Him.
"Thanks." You mumble, sighing as you take the glass of water and walk away from the bar.
After figuring out you can't drink to calm yourself, you decide to just go somewhere outside, away from the crowd and peaceful to get fresh air. Lucky you, you found an exit that leads you to the garden.
As time have gone by, you're not sure how long have you been there, staring at the fountain, the flowers and even starring down at your feet every now and then. You thought being out here will leave your head empty. Not worrying about anything. But then you'd catch yourself pouting and comparing yourself to all the ladies you have seen in the event, especially the last person you have talked to.
Your self pity and low self-esteem is thriving today than usual. Is it the lack of sleep? Or because of the one guy from earlier giving you a judging look that made you regret wearing the dress you picked? What happened?
These thoughts are not very helpful. Especially lately, well probably more on daily basis, you do wonder why Yoongi chose you. To marry.
They've said, more particularly his parents said, that he didn't like the ones they suggested for him; so he decided to pick you. To marry you instead of those women who is on the same level as him or close to his family's wealth.
Odd isn't it? Why would someone like him, an elite bachelor, pick a girl from a lower class family to marry? What did he see in you? What made him randomly pick you? You are not special, inexperience about life and not alluring as the other girls in his world. What did he saw? How did he even saw you? You were sure you two never met before. So did he hire someone to find a daughter from a poor family or what?
Instead of clearing your mind, you suddenly had these outburst of questions.
"What are you doing here?"
Your eyes widens after hearing a familiar voice. You didn't dare to speak. You just slowly turn your upper body around to see him, walking slowly towards you.
He's wearing a tuxedo. His hair is slightly slicked back and his scar. His beautiful scar. It's him.
You can't believe what you are seeing. He's really here. Why? He's been away for a week because of work and when did he came back?
"Y-yoongi..." you mumble, standing up
"I asked you..." he says as he stands right in front of you. Then you see his eyes darts down at your glass of water, sitting beside you. "Your bodyguard said... you asked for a drink." He looks back at you, his expression is so serious.
"I ahm... sorry..." you lower your gaze.
"You know... you can't drink."
"I'm sorry..." you whisper softly
"Let her have fun." A woman's voice says. "She just wants to have a glass of wine. It won't hurt."
Slowly raising your eyes, you see her, Sarang, standing from afar from you and Yoongi.
Her stance at this moment is unidentical to her persona earlier. It feels like she is a completely different person, though her appearance is the same. Something shifted.
"She did an amazing job.. representing you earlier." She adds
Your eyes then goes to Yoongi. You want to see his reaction to the angelic woman speaking. You are curious. No one talks to him directly like that, blunt and straight forward, even you.
Sarang is brave to talk casually to him.
"Ready the car..." Yoongi finally speaks after a monent of silence. Ordering one of his men to move.
That was it?
"I'll return the items. Keep the money. I don't care." He says while he's looking at you, straight into your eyes. Though you know, even his eyes are on you, he's not actually speaking to you.
"Yoongi le---" she tries to speak again but he didn't allowed it.
Yoongi just slightly turned his head to give her a side eye. He is not pleased. "My wife and I are leaving..." and then takes your hand to hold onto. "Let's go home..." he says that only you can hear.
"Ahm...ahh... okay." You say, lost by the sudden fierceness from him
***
"Get in." He orders you
Carefully climbing in the car, you move to the other side making sure there is a space betweem you two.
"Home please." Yoongi says to his driver as he shuts the door.
"Sir." The man answers, nodding and then pushes a button that closes the opening between the driver to the passenger seat of the car.
We are now isolated.
He looks so tired. Looks like he just came back and went straight to event to pick you up.
"I have my driver with me... you could've rested at home." You say
He sighs and closes his eyes. "I'm fine."
Did he purposely pick you up because he wants to see you? Did he missed you while he was away for a week?
Your mind is filled with questions and curiosity but you cannot dream of these questions to be real. You have to remember, he just married you because he have no other choice. There is no love in between you two. You are married by paper only that is worth a lot of money. Everything you are doing for him is to repay all of his kindness to you and your family.
This is all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy.
"Come closer..." he softly says. His eyes are still shut but his arm is arching, gesturing for me to take place in then. "Y/n..." he opens his eyes, calling my name. You scoot over his side. He immediately puts his arm around you, making sure you are close. "You're shaking..." he utters as he goes back to closing his eyes, resting his head back. "You're almost naked with that dress of yours..."
"Sorry..." you say looking down at your knotted fingers. "I thought it will look good....that's why I wore it."
He sighs. "You do look good..." then he shifts in his position and makes sure you're looking back at him. Then he starts leans in, to kiss you.
"Wait..."
He pauses, confused by your reaction. You have never denied his kiss before.
"I'm sorry..."
"What for?" He asks
"Well..." you look to the front, where the driver is. "Do we just kiss or..." you whisper
Yoongi didn't expect your question which made him smile. "It depends." He is looking straight into your eyes, your face are just inches away.
"He might hear us..." you whisper
"I don't fucking care." He moves forward and finally catches your lips.
***
After travelling for almost half an hour, you finally reach home.
"Welcome home, Miss..." The maid greets the second you slide out of the car. she then sees Yoongi, coming out from the other side of the car. "Master!" She bows again. "Welcome..."
They are suprised to see him. They didn't expect him to arrive with you. Looks like none of them knew he went to pick you up.
"Do we have anything to eat?" You softly ask the maid, then you realized that it's already late and that they have to rest too. "Oh... Sorry... never mind... you may go and rest." You give her a faint smile.
Then slowly walking towards the elevator, you could see your husband's reflection through the glass doors. He is busy already with his phone.
"Y/n..."
You glance up, peaking through the reflection. He is walking towards you. So you wirl around and waited for him to stand in front of you.
"Ask your assistant to remove all charities or event under the Lee's tomorrow. Even parties." He says as he undo his bow tie. "And... to not accept any invitation from them...again"
"Why?"
He didn't answer. No answer means he's serious.
"Okay..." You just answer before turning your back at him again.
Thinking about what you are in his world is heart breaking in a way. You are nothing but someone he owns. You just go with the flow of his world.
Yes you do had an idea what you've signed up for but its still shocking nonetheless how everything is unfolding and is doing.
"Aren't you getting in?"
You look up and see that he is in the elevator already, waiting.
"S-sorry..." you say before entering. You try your best to not make eye contact with him.
After both of you settled in, the maid follows and taps on level 3. That is where both your rooms are.
Oddly, Yoongi taps on the Upper ground after her. "Can you please cook something light before you leave? My wife needs to eat." He orders
"Yes, Master." She answers just in time when the elevator stops on UG.
"We'll both be down after we shower and get rested a bit."
"Understood, Master." She exists the elevator, bows and immediately walks off.
'My wife'. It is the second time he said that today. He never says that.
"Don't skip meals." He mumbles as the door closes
You didn't answer. You didn't mean to skip a meal or two today. And maybe a few days before too. You were nervous. One main reason is the dress you're wearing right now is very revealing. A satin black backless maxi dress. You wanted be perfect in the dress thats why, even though you know it's not achievable.
*pings*
The elevator door opens on level 3. You step out and about to turn to your wing when you hear him call your name again.
"Where are you going?" He asks
"T-to my room..." you sound so weak, "To shower..."
"Shower here." He says, suggesting the shower in his wing. Meaning in his room. Meaning his bathroom.
"Hmm?" You are lost in translation. Why is he asking you to shower there all of a sudden.
"To my room." And then he undo the first two buttons of his shirt.
"W-what? Why?"
He didn't say another word. He just continued to walk off towards his room leaving you.
"W-wait..." You take two steps forward but then stops.
"Y/N...." you hear the heels of his shoes stop hitting the marbled floor. His back is facing you. "I said, shower here. I didn't ask you to decide." he then turns around and you see his white top basically open now. "Will you go and shower with me or do you want me to peel that dress off you and carry you to my room?"
Flusttered by his remark, you just released an unsolicited shaky breathing. "Ahm... yes... I'm... I'm coming..."
***
[Flashback to Yoongi's side]
(Earlier... as soon as Yoongi arrived at the charity event)
Some of the people in the event went silent for a few seconds the moment they saw you enter the building. They all didn't expect you to show up since your wife was already present. But of course, they still greeted you with a smile and tried to make small talks. They want to be on your good side. They know what you are capable off. What power you hold in this world.
However, you don't care about these fuckers. You dropped by because you received a call from your wife's bodyguard that Y/N is not looking okay.
"Where is she?" You ask the man standing behind you.
"She just left the bar, Sir. And went out to the garden." He reply.
"I see."
One step, you just took one step and somebody already stands in your way to your wife.
"Look who's here."
"Sarang." You say her name, bitterly. You are not expecting her to be here.
"You have been ignoring my invites for quite some time now... I thought, helping others is one of your goals in life that's why you work 24/7?"
"I thought this event was by the Lee's?" You hiss at your male assistant.
"It is, Sir. By--"
"Lee Do-Hyun..." she cuts off the assistant. "My husband..." she proudly says. "Aww.. That kind a... hurts my feelings...that... you have no idea I got married..."
"I don't keep tab on people who's not important to me."
She scoffs but she sounded a bit insulted and her ego got hurt. But she's good at pretending that it didn't bothered her. "You say that now...but a few years ago... I was your muse..." she tries to move closer to you but your body guards stands in between quickly.
"Was." You look away from her and try to search for your wife through the window not far away from where you stand. "My mistake for socializing to a liar, back stabbing... leech like you." You say, then giving her a side eye. "I wish your husband good fortune... or that he loves spoiling you... or esle... he'll found out his wife's true color..."
You're about to walk away, again, but this bitch still wants to talk to you.
"You think... she'll not get tired of you? Of you controlling her? Especially getting married with you... with no love at all?" She snorts a laugh again. "Or maybe... she will not..." she mumbles under her breathe, "Now... It figures... why you picked someone from a low class family... someone with no choice but to stay with you because her family needs your money. I see..." she laughs again, "poor girl... if I were her, I would milk you all of your money so it will be worth it... after all she married a controlling, dominant, and a freaky person like you."
You know Y/N is not like her. She is a nice person. She's not into money like this bitch is. However, you do think about how Y/N thinks about you and her marriage to you.
You admit that you are very controlling when it comes to her. It is one of your negative trait that you cannot put away. It comes natural with you because of the life you have been brought up and your business. You want things to happen in your way and you are also possessive. You do try to controll it when it comes to her but you are not sure if you are doing it right.
Well how could you know, you never talk about it. Even with your wife. You never asked about her feelings and opinions.
"Watch your mouth." You mumble. "You might think you know me from the years we've been together. But you haven't seen half of what I can and would do... if anyone picks a fight with me.." you glare at her. "Consider this a warning."
[End of flashback from Yoongi's side]
*************
"Miss..."
Slowly opening your eyes, your eyes carefully adjusted to the light. You could see the ray of sunshine peaking through your dark thick curtains.
"Miss..."
You turn your head to the side and see your maid bowing.
"It's noon Miss..."
"Oh."
It has been a quite a few days now, since you start waking up this late. You are usually up early. You are a morning person. You also do jogs or walks around the property and sometimes go to the home gym to move, always. But something shifted in your routines.
You are tired, less motivated and no will to get up your bed.
"I think we need to call the family doctor now, Miss." The maid suggested. "You've lost a bit of weight and you look pale."
"I'm fine." You say as you push your duvet off your body and slide down off your bed. "I'll take a quick bath..." you mumble
"Understood." She is ready to come along with you.
"No... I'm fine... I'll just go alone... just prepare food for me please."
"But... Miss..." she usually prepares your bath and always stays with you there. After the little accident you had a year ago when you first experience a hot bath on the tub. You fainted because you fell asleep. Too much enjoyment and you forgot it is not good to stay long in there.
"I'll be fine." You smile and requested for her to leave
"Okay Miss... but... I will be back after half an hour to check."
"Sure."
You slept last night, wearing your silk robe and your fancy cream nightgown, his favorite. You were expecting Yoongi to come home last night as per usual schedule. But he didn't. He didn't even informed the staff that he'll not be home for a longer period.
What happened? You don't know.
The last time you talked to him was the night he asked you to come to his room and shower with him.
Everything that night was magical. For you atleast. But then you ruined it.
When you both entered his dark room, he immediately clung onto you. He held you like everything depends on it. It was more intemate and hungry than the usual and you liked it for some reason. After all the self doubt and insecurity you felt in the party, the intemacy made you feel more than what you feel.
And when he peeled off your dress from your body, you didn't expected him to go down on his knees and lick your soul out of your body. His tongue did more than you know he could do. It brought you to another level of high. And you didn't know you could screech like an animal because of it. He really made sure you are on cloud nine or even beyond that.
"Fuck me... please..." you begged him after you knees weakened and fall down the floor where he is.
"No." He said. He was sturn. "No request for tonight." He said and then he positioned you underneath him where he could properly see you crumble because of him.
"Y-yoongi... please.... I need... I want to come..." you begged
He brought you to cloud nine but then hold onto your pearls when you were about to orgasm.
"I'm punishing you right now..." he said as he lowers down and starts to run his tongue from your chest up. "Next time... don't wear any sort of revealing clothes...when I'm not around.. do you understand that Y/N?"
"Y-yes..."
"Another rule to add... are you okay with that?" He hummed the last words on your ears before he let both his hands squeeze your breast. "Answer me..."
"I don't... mind..." you were squearming underneath him. He was playing your nipples then. "I... I don't mind... Yoongi..." you repeated, pleading.
His punishment continued for another few minutes. It was too much. You were struggling catching your bliss but he's playing you. However, you are patient. You know his kinks and you know what he wants and so you do whatever and accept whatever. Coz you know it is from him.
"Scream my name." He grunted as he pounds you with no mercy.
You were holding on to his massive bookshelf on the wall, your legs were lifted and hanging over his forearm whilst he was thrusting deep in you. You were getting hurt from your back hitting the shelves but it didn't matter. You don't know why but for some reason you can endure everything just for Yoongi. Even pain.
"Nnggghhaaa..." you threw your arms around his neck as he went faster. "Please!" You cry on his neck. "Aaaahhh!!" You screamed the orgasm you have been keeping for a while. You felt relieved and content.
And as you two were catching your breath. You uttered words that surprised the both of you. You said 'I love you' to Yoongi.
It should not be a surprise. You two are married right. However since yours are different from others, those words were never said or mentioned ever after the wedding. It is like a forebidden phrase though there are no rule about it. It's like an unspoken deal that no one says those words since THIS.. YOU TWO... is just a fantasy. You two got together with no love. It is not real. You are just one of his property.
And so, after that night. That magical night for you ended up into this cold, quiet and empty prison. Again. You are back to nothing.
You thought you are on a journey escaping that confinement. You thought that something is going to change. You thought... that you were wrong about him. But who are you kidding? You were just having sex like you used to. It is nothing special. It is the same crap. So you saying you love him is... worthless.
"Did I even mean it?" You ask yourself as you lay down in your hot bath. "I said it... after sex.." you are trying to understand how those words slipped out of your lips. If it all just happened because of such high from the sex.
You can clearly remember how you said it. You paused, looked into his eyes and carefully said it. You know you said it with the intent for him to hear it but when you saw his reaction. It made you realize what a big mistake it was.
"Am I having feelings for him?" You mumble as you lower yourself more into the water. "I should not right?"
You know the answer to your own quesion. Look at him even ignoring you for almost two weeks now. Who are you even kidding thinking it will have an effect on him?
After the 'I love you' incident, He eat dinners without you or he let you eat first before he comes out of his home office. And then when he leaves, he does not inform you now. You just get the news of him flying off somewhere from your maid. Even his men are being cautious with you. He must've ordered them to be distant but at the same time protect you.
How funny that these are his responses to you. You know you deserve it but you're a little bit hurt, your not going to lie.
"Who am I for him to love?" You sigh. "Maybe... I should just prepare myself for the ending of this fantasy..."
*********
"Master." The maids bows as they suddenly sees Yoongi enter the main entrance while they are all cleaning.
Yoongi have not been home for a while. He has been... busy.
"Give them all my clothes." He says to his right hand man. "Sorry if it's quite a lot today." He then says to the maids as he removes his black coat revealing his white button up shirt, stained with blood. A lot of it. No one reacted to the visual that is shown. All the staff are used to it. They know how his world is.
"Where is she?" He asks as he loosen up his tie
All the maids in the corredor suddenly turn heads to the youngest one at the end of the line. She is Y/N personal maid.
"Master." She steps forwards and bows again. "Miss is in her bath."
Yoongi frowns. "Alone?"
"Ahm..." she suddenly stutters. "Sorry, Master! She... Miss wanted to... alone... but I told her after half an hour I will go back."
"How long has she been there?" He then throws his tie on the ground.
"Twenty."
"Okay." He takes a deep breathe and tries to collect himself. "Just go and be on standby in her room. She can't stay any longer."
"Okay, Master." She bows again and briskfully walk back to Y/N wing.
"Are you not going to... visit her Sir?" His male right hand asks. "She have been messaging you since..." he pauses for a bit. "And calling too."
He didn't answer. "Ready my bath please." He orders and just continue walking his way to his room.
"Understood." The man replies
"She can't see me like this." Yoongi mumbles as he walks
"I see..." his right hand man smiles at his master's response.
"Why are you smiling?" Yoongi asks, one eyebrow up.
"Nothing, Sir."
"Just spit it out."
The right man, Mr. Kim have been Yoongi's right hand man ever since he was in his teens. Mr. Kim saw him grew up and be the man that he is now. And for sure, if something changed he would be the first one to notice
And now, the tiny changes in Yoongi's mood and decisions, He might not know or see it but it is obvious for Mr. Kim. He knows it is something about his wife.
"2nd week of your marriage, Sir. She saw you coming home with a bloody lip and injured knuckles. You said you don't give a damn if she sees you looking like a murderer."
"So? What's your point?"
"It's just lately...."
Yoongi pauses and turns around to see Mr. Kim, wearing a smile.
"What are you implying? Just... say it."
Mr. Kim bows and says, "Nothing Sir."
"Hmmm..." rolling his eyes, he continued to walk.
*****
"Miss..." your personal maid rushes in your room, "Master have return." She says.
To her suprise, she sees you standing in the middle of the room, wearing your bathrobe and a towel in your hair already.
You take a deep breathe, not letting your eyes look away from the view you are seeing from your window, a clear blue sky.
"Miss.. shall I prepare your clothes?"
You close your eyes and then removed the towel wrapped around your long hair. "Please..." you softly answer
"What do you prefer to wear today, Miss?" She asks she she begins to walk towards your walk in closet.
"A black dress..." you say as you follow along. "Maybe the one with the longer sleeves."
She nods and then continues to search for the dresses you have that matches your description while you on the other hand looks at yourself in the full length mirror while you undress from your robe.
You stare at your body and see how you thin you are. Not super thin but thinner than what you used to.
It's your own fault. You have been skipping meals when you are stressed and it's not good.
"Miss?" She then lays three dresses on the sofa in the middle, for your choices.
"The middle one." You says.
You then open the drawer for your undies to grab a black lace matching underwear.
"Ahm, Miss...?"
"Yes?"
"Are you going to eat with Master, in the dinning today?"
"Hmm... what did he say?"
"Nothing. He just asked me to stay with you when I told him you are in your bath."
"Did he say if he wants to see me?"
The maid didn't answer.
"I guess not." You scoff as you getting into the dress. "Just bring my food in my study room. I'll eat there while I do some reading."
"Understood." She bows and exists the room.
"I'm not gonna wait for him anymore." You say to yourself while looking onto the mirror. "If he's going to avoid me or ignore me... then... that's what I'll do as well..."
Starring once again at yourself on the mirror, you look at your face and then your eyes goes down to your belly.
"I have to learn to go on with my life... with or without him..." you mumble. "I should start to escape this fantasy... a dream that maybe the 'us' will be something."
Part 3 - Twilight
575 notes · View notes
won4ver · 30 days
Text
✈︎ no contact
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It really wasn’t his fault that he got jealous when other men talked to you, even with your little no-contact situation.
pairing : ex!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings + genre : suggestive. profanity. mentions of fighting. exes to ??. brief jealousy. switch!heeseung. switch!reader. no smut.
wc : 1.8
a/n : literally been on a heeseung craze lately
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“You done with those little boys now?” You flinched as hot breath blew onto your neck, a pair of familiar hands wrapping around your waist as he pushed his hips into yours.
You rolled your eyes with a scoff, biting your tongue as you removed the hands from around you in a haste manner.
You turned your body around, briefly whipping the taller man with your updo. You looked up at him with dark eyes, eyelashes framing your eyes in a way that made his knees weak.
“What park about no contact do you not understand?” You hissed at your ex-boyfriend, glare unresisting as he maintained your eye contact. His eyebrow rose at your stare, making a show of looking down your body, pausing at your chest before he connected your eyes again.
“I love it when you’re mean to me” A loud sound akin to the one a cat makes hissing left your mouth, top lip curling up as you look at him with disgust. “Makes my body feel so good” He purred, leaning his head down to your height as a coy smile played on his lips. Your gaze trailed down, watching the way his lips quirked at your gaze. “Promise they’ve only ever touched you” Your eyes snapped up as your face burned with embarrassment, “I don’t care” you lightly hit against his shoulder as you passed him.
Heeseung watched over his shoulder as you opened the door briefly pausing as you adjusted your outfit. He chucked to himself as his eyes trailed down your body, pausing at a specific spot on your lower back. A groan almost made its way through his lips, the memories playing through his mind the longer his gaze lingered.
As if he had x-ray vision, he could see everything beneath your shirt. The bruises that he left on your hips, purple with the marks of his procession. He could see your tattoo, the thorns wrapping around the dragon in swirls of spikes.
Most of all, he could see the way it looked while it rocked back against him. His head tilted back, resting against the wall as he regained his posture. He could feel the tightness of his jeans, the ghost of your hand rubbing against him as his scenarios played out.
“Fuck” Heeseung grunted out loud, fists tightening as the door slamming echoed across the room. In hindsight he knew he shouldn’t have followed you into the washroom, he really did.
But he couldn’t help it, especially not when he noticed that the men you were earlier entertaining watched as you entered, their eyes narrowed in on your swaying hips.
And so he didn’t stop the urge, he allowed his feet to follow you into the women’s washroom. He basked in the feeling of the heavy eyes watching him, he didn’t even have to look at them to feel the envy mixing in their gaze.
Was he making a claim on you, even after you both agreed to go no contact? Yes, he couldn’t let his girl go home with anyone other than him.
Losing you was the second worst thing that’s ever happened to him, first was agreeing to the no-contact bullshit you insisted on.
He agreed because he knew he’d get you back, it really was a no-brainer. Well to him at least.
You ignored the gazes on you as you made your way to an all but familiar table, filled with faces you’ve avoided since your big breakup.
Jake nodded towards you, tilting his head to the side as he observed the way your fists clenched against your side. “You alright?” A hand touched your shoulder, and the feeling of the calloused fingers almost immediately made you recognize the man attached to it. You looked to your side, eyes Jay with a look he recognized all too much.
“Tell your fucking best friend to leave me the hell alone, he’s pissing me off” Sunghoon scoffed at your words from across the table, tilting his shot back to fight the words crawling up his throat.
You looked over at the man sitting further from you, eyebrows furrowed as you glared at him. “What?” Sunghoon matched your stare with one you identified as amusement. “No” You raised your finger, closing your eyes as you shook your head.
Sunghoon heaved a laugh in response, his teasing smile broadening on his teeth. “You already knew what I was going to say, Doll.” He shrugged at you, his leather jacket hitting against the table in the process.
The air tensed as the three men looked over your shoulder, their eyes following the man walking towards you.
“Hey beautiful” a random man brushed Jay’s hand off your shoulder, replacing it with his own. The four of you cringed, Jake fake gagging as the man oogled you.
“Fuck off, she’s off limits” Jay pushed the hand off of you, grabbing a napkin from the table as he cleaned your shoulder off.
The man looked at all of them with a weird face, raising his hands as the three men all glared at him. “Woah my bad, didn’t know this pretty girl had little guard dogs” He went to turn around, freezing in place as he bumped into a large chest.
“Woah” He rebounded, his legs hitting the table as he went back a few feet. He looked up in confusion, eyes widening at the man standing above him.
Heeseung could feel his blood boiling, hot spores rising on his skin the second he saw a random man advance towards you.
“Heeseung-“ You stepped towards him, preparing to break up the fight he was about to cause. He barely looked at you as he pulled you behind him, his trembling hands grabbing onto one of your own.
Heeseung turned around, storming out of the club as he pulled you behind him. Even as he imagined all the ways he could hurt the man who touched you, his hands remained gentle with yours.
“You’re lucky she’s here, he literally would’ve smashed your head into the table for just looking at her” Jay shook his head at the terrified man, a small smile on his face as he saw the way Heeseung held the door open for you, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders the second you stepped outside.
“He’s literally insane” Jake rolled his eyes at the man standing beside them, rolling his neck to the side as he cracked it. “Nah, we all would’ve done it for her” Sounds of agreement came from the other two men beside Jake, all making a show of cracking their knuckles.
The entire way back to your apartment was spent in silence, Heeseung spent the entirety of the time staring at you with a stupid little lovesick expression. The soft look in his eyes made both your heart and pussy pulse, his gaze stirring something deep within you.
The second you entered your apartment building the doorman greeted the both of you, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the man beside you. “You’re back together?” He whispered shouted, his hand over his mouth and he giddily looked between the two of you. You only rolled your eyes at him whereas Heeseung beamed, a small smile on his lips as he shrugged his shoulders.
“Did you mean it?” Heeseung looked up from your heels dangling in his hands, his confused expression almost melting your facade. “Did you mean it when you said your lips haven’t touched anyone else?” You cleared your throat as you looked straight at the elevator doors, trying your best to act nonchalant.
“I’ve never kissed anyone except for you” You had to bite your lip to keep your smile down, opting to just nod your head as you faced away from the man beside you.
Heeseung took your question as an invitation to start a conversation with you, one that had his intentions clear from the beginning. “Um, have you kissed anyone else since we broke up?” He tried to remain casual, ultimately failing when his voice fell at the end of his question.
You merely shook your head, setting your lips in a line as you watched his reaction from the corner of your eye. “But you knew that, don’t think I didn’t know that you were watching me.”
Usually in situations like this people would opt to freeze, maybe even argue and try to defend themselves. Heeseung however, was different. He just stood there with a proud smile, nodding his head at what you were saying. “Of course, couldn't let my girl get swayed by anyone” He said it so confidently that if anyone outside of your small circle heard his words they’d be giving you whatever numbers they could pull out of their head.
You hummed at his words, eyes now looking up at the numbers displayed above the elevator door. three floors until yours. And as the next number lit up, as did your mind.
Within seconds you had Heeseung pinned, your smaller hands pressing him against the wall. “I’m a lot of things, but I'm definitely not your girl.” You whispered in his ear, lips touching the sensitive part of his neck as goosebumps rose on his arms.
You could feel Heeseung’s mid-body touch yours, small movements that wouldn’t have been noticeable if you weren’t already pressed tight against him.
“Aw, is my baby getting needy?” You mockingly cooed at him, baby-talking him as you allowed him to use your body for his pleasure. A soft sound left his mouth as he reached a certain angle, the perfect position for him to rub himself against your center.
“It’s really pathetic, the way you have to use me to get yourself off.” He whined in your ear, cheeks blushing as you continued talking down to him in his ear. “Your hand couldn’t compare to my pussy, could it?” He frantically shook his head back and forth, tears gathering in his eyes at your cruel attempts to break him.
You cooed at the sight, one hand leaving his wrist to caress his soft cheek. “That’s too bad, bad boys don’t deserve to feel good” You completely removed yourself from him, ignoring his pained gasp at his denied pleasure.
The elevator beeped right before it opened, the bright number symbolizing that you’ve reached your floor. “But I guess you could make it up to me, only if you promise to show me how those pretty lips work.” You took your heels from his hand, walking straight out the door as another, older, couple entered the elevator.
Heeseung had no time to allow the embarrassment to creep in, ignoring the horrified looks of the other couple as they saw the wet patch against his pants.
It was rare that Heeseung let you take charge, but he loved it more than anything. Your mean words always made him feel things he never knew he was even capable of feeling before he met you. He’d let you ruin him over and over, all long as he fell asleep with you in his arms.
628 notes · View notes
itsbeeble · 4 months
Text
TRY HARD
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SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)
GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst
PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)
WC: 8.7k (oops)
SERIES MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn
18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff
A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.
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The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you. 
And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel. 
“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin. 
“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff. 
“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.” 
“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.” 
“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?” 
“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”
“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”
“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.
“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”
“Please don’t—”
“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”
“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”
You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand. 
College Hunks Hauling Junk!
Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)
Scan HERE to book your appointment!
“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?” 
He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.” 
“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?” 
“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.
This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)
“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.” 
You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier. 
“I’m good, thanks.”
The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room. 
Fucking try hard.
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The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers. 
At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you? 
Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.
“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl? 
“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”
“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back. 
“Listen, stripper boy—”
“Juyeon—” 
“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain. 
“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”
“Stripper boy,” you warn.
“…is that there’s a chance?”
“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.
“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”
“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”
“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff. 
“Pretty girl.”
“Because you are a pretty girl.” 
“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it. 
“And then…?” He teases. 
“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”
You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks. 
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“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles. 
“Just someone I know.” 
“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl. 
“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”
The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks. 
“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal. 
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It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.
For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you. 
That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.
It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.
Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him. 
“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.
“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.
“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather. 
“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.
“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze. 
“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff. 
“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers. 
“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.
“Do you have anywhere that you go?” 
You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.” 
“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first. 
“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment. 
“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile. 
“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?” 
“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”
“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?” 
You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.
“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.
“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches. 
“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?
“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”
“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”
“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable. 
“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.” 
“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”
“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue. 
“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”
“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle. 
“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.
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Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him. 
“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place. 
“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket. 
His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made. 
The bed.
The one bed in the room. 
“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.
“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth. 
“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”
“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.
“Then where am I gonna sleep?” 
“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?” 
“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.
“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.
“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”
“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?” 
You stare at him for a moment.
Then another.
And then another.
And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you. 
“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”
“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.” 
“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?” 
“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?” 
“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.
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Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—
Wait.
Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart. 
He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.
It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.
He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over. 
Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out. 
Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him. 
Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat. 
He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.
It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart. 
God, he’s so fucked.
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"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you. 
Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay? 
“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.” 
Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought. 
“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand. 
“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand. 
“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”
“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.
“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”
“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.” 
“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.
“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs. 
“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side. 
“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?” 
“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him. 
“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.
“You made fun of me!” 
“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”
“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.” 
“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”
“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”
“I do not.” You groan. 
“You do!”
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
“Do no—” 
Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest. 
You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?
Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.
His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him. 
You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance. 
Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine. 
Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did. 
And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly. 
“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”
“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.
“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”
“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.
“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”
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It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.
Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you. 
He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.
“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.” 
“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together. 
“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it. 
“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”
“True.” He nods and lays back down.
“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”
“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”
“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”
“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”
“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that. 
“Oops…” 
“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.
“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.” 
When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon. 
Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.
“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”
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It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?
There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—
You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much. 
“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks. 
“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him. 
“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?” 
“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—” 
“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”
“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”
Plan A is a bust, then. 
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Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out. 
Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door. 
Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon. 
“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?” 
Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.
“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”
Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.” 
“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.” 
“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”
“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”
“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”
“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes. 
“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”
“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” 
“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?” 
There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.
“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you. 
“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?” 
He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides. 
“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.” 
“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 
“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”
“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours. 
Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your. 
This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin. 
Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room. 
“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away. 
“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response. 
“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!” 
“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.
“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.” 
You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him. 
“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?” 
There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that. 
With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot. 
“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again. 
You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own? 
“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.” 
You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you. 
“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand. 
He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you. 
“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”
“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth. 
“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.” 
His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction. 
“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy. 
“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”
“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”
“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body. 
Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him. 
You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. 
“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?” 
“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms. 
When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips. 
His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists. 
“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest. 
“That’s what you get for making me wait.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”
“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.
“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face. 
“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”
“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.
“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.
“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”
“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully. 
“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.
“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.
“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.
“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."
“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”
"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.
"Does it matter?"
"I mean...I guess not?"
"Exactly."
“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.
“Fuck, no.”
“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”
“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”
“Not at all, boyfriend.”
“Yes, you are.”
“…Try-hard.”
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© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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toruro · 9 months
Text
— ✧ isohel
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i·so·hel (noun) a line on a map connecting points having the same duration of sunshine
pairing. hong joshua x reader
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 se
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 >_&lt;; ... 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!
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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!”
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“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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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“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.
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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.”
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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find an alternate ending here!
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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haknom · 13 days
Text
NEVER AGAIN — SIM JAKE
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SYNOPSIS: fake dating your best friend to get back at each other’s exes was one thing, but falling in love without him liking you back? never doing that again.
PAIRING: fake-bf!jake x gn!reader
WARNINGS: unrequited love and angst. WORDCOUNT: 672 words
NOTE: wasn’t even supposed to be sad LMAO but if i ever write a fic on this… don’t be shocked.
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“YOU’RE GRIPPING TOO HARD, IT HURTS.” YOU WHISPERED, PLACING YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF JAKE’S.
“Oh, my fault. Is this better?” He asked softly as you nodded at the looser grip. His hands gently held your waist as you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck
The two of you moved to the rhythm of the song that played in the banquet hall.
Honestly, you and Jake weren’t a serious couple. Both of you were previously friends who decided to come together and make your exes jealous.
Which only helped to explain why you two were each other’s prom date.
“Do you even know how to dance?” He asked, hinting at the way your feet continuously stumbled over one another.
“Hey. Yes I do.” You said, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you.
“Just not like this…” You mumbled.
“Yeah, right.” He teased while scoffing. He stopped his movements and adjusted his hands that rested around your waist.
“Here, follow my movements.”
Jake’s voice was clear and tender as he took a step to the left. You looked at him confused and he nodded his head with a smile.
“Just follow.” He whispered while moving again, causing you to look at your formal shoes and his black Oxford’s.
You followed the path he created until you two were moving in sync.
“See, it isn’t that hard.” Jake said as you hummed in response and smiled.
You were actually having fun for once.
A few moments of silence passed through the space between both of you, but luckily, it wasn’t awkward.
It was comforting.
However, it wasn’t long before it was interrupted.
Jake looked up at the sound of chuckles and grimaced at the sight.
“Don’t you feel annoyed?” He asked as you looked up from the ground.
“What?” You replied, confused. He cocked his head at the two who danced with one another and smiled at each other like there was no tomorrow.
You shifted your gaze to where he stared. Turns out, he was referring to your ex and ex-best friend.
Usually, you would feel a sharp strike at your heart when you saw the two together, but right now, you didn’t.
“Not really.” You replied, eyes still on the two, causing Jake to look at you with knitted brows.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“Even if she was my friend for most of my life…” You paused, looking back at the boy.
“So were you,” you explained, “I might’ve lost a friend and a possible lover, yet I’m not as phased anymore.”
“Because I might’ve fallen in love with you,” was what you wanted to say last, but couldn’t.
“Because I still have you, right? That’s enough for me.” You said instead, not wanting to make things awkward.
He was probably still hung up on his ex-girlfriend, and judging from the way he rolled his eyes when he saw her and her new boyfriend together, you definitely weren’t wrong.
“Well, I am.” Jake said in a harsh tone as you tilted your head in confusion.
“I still hate seeing those two together.” He explained, his hands tightening around your waist again.
“Jake, too tight.” You winced, trying to shimmy out of his grip.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He apologized with a sheepish laugh.
Yes, the sound made your heart flutter, yet you knew anything you did wouldn’t have an affect on him.
“Here, let’s take a break. Would you like something to drink or eat?” Jake asked, removing his hands completely.
It would be nice to get a break from your heart constantly thumping at an immense pace.
So, you nodded at his request in agreement. He flashed a smile at you once more before leaving to visit the serving table as you returned a more awkward one.
Once he was gone, you looked over at your ex and your ex-best friend, then at Jake’s ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend and sighed.
Wow, was this what unrequited love felt like? If so, you hated it.
Never again.
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Ξ ©HAKNOM, 2024
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thevampywolf · 11 months
Text
Sparkle
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Genre: husband!Chan, angst, fluff
Warnings: none
Request: no
Characters: Chan, Y/N
Word Count: 2.2k
When Chan traipsed out of his home office at near four in the morning, he let out a hefty sigh. It caused the hair that had fallen over his tense forehead to tremble, and he shuffled up the stairs one at a time, his hand resting against the railing with a heavy touch.
He was exhausted, to say the least. Not to mention incredibly angry … not for the first time did he wonder if perhaps the career he had so heavily adored all those years ago was beginning to rub off on him in a negative way. Not for the first time, Chan had begun to ponder the decision of putting an end to it. He had been denying his true feelings for a very long time now, and the past three hours working with an incredibly arrogant member of staff had tipped him over the edge.
Perhaps it was time to focus on his own happiness. Properly. Perhaps he was too old for this … he had never felt so unattractive and unsuitable for his current job as he did now. In an industry that was so dependant on looks and physique, Chan felt as though his time had long passed. The joy and the thrill he had experienced all those years ago were no longer there, and the passion that was once like a fire roaring in an exquisite hearth had ebbed away to nothing but a pile of ash, the glow and the warmth long, long gone.
Chan winced as he continued his way up the stairs. His shoulders were as hard as brick, his neck painful with the smallest of movements. His wrists seemed to be screaming for help under the fabric that he'd wrapped around them for support.
Biting his lip, the man blinked away hot, angry tears that had begun to prickle at the back of his fatigued eyes. He clenched his jaw and instantly regretted it when it triggered the beginnings of a tension headache around the circumference of his skull.
With some difficulty, Chan managed to make his way to his bedroom. He pushed open the door as quietly as he could; his eyes immediately softened when they landed on the dark shadow in his bed. His wife's slow, rhythmic breathing told him that she was indeed fast asleep, her hair tousled against the pillowcase. She was sleeping on his side of the bed again, and Chan felt a pang of guilt deep inside of him. It echoed like a drum in his soul as he walked up to the bed, his gaze watery as it landed on her sleep softened face.
Another heavy exhale left his lips. Chan gently sat down on the edge of the bed beside his wife and with trembling fingers he reached out and tenderly sweeped Y/N's hair away from her face; her cheek was warm and soft under his touch. She automatically leaned into his hand despite still being asleep, and the small movement immediately made the man's eyes flood with tears all over again.
"I think … " He whispered as he caressed her cheek lightly. "I think you're the only thing in my life that I don't regret."
Leaning back against the headboard of the bed, Chan shut his eyes. His hand stayed resting in his wife's hair, the familiarity of her comforting him more than he realised.
"What do I do?" Chan murmured softly. "Is it time to just … let go?"
He looked down at her sleeping form and sniffed quietly. "Would you be disappointed in me?"
He let his eyes fall shut again, his tears slipping down his cheeks. "I thought this was what I wanted … I thought I wanted to do this forever. I thought I could do this forever. But … I don't think I can anymore. I can't do it, Y/N. I can't keep doing this … it … it's not making me happy anymore."
With his free hand, Chan rubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. "Maybe if I was more handsome like the others … or maybe if I was stronger, or if I had a better body … maybe then I'd feel different. Maybe I'd be able to keep going. Maybe I'd be happier then. But I'm so … I'm so tired, Y/N. I know I pretend like I'm not and that everything is fine but I haven't felt fine in a very, very long time."
He gulped as a sudden lump formed in his throat. Even though Y/N was asleep, the thought of saying those words made a chill run through Chan's body; he had never explicitly admitted his job was making him unhappy before. He had never really cared, either. The more unhappy he was, the more he focused on his work to distract him … and the more he worked the more unhappy he became; it was an endless cycle that he couldn't seem to escape, and it was driving him insane.
"I used to be so happy doing this … " He continued, his words slurred and quiet as if they were leaving his mind on their own accord. "Helping people … giving them a safe space through music. Getting to do what I loved the most. But somewhere I think … it just became more than that. Somewhere along the lines that initial goal became lost and now I don't even know why I'm doing this anymore."
Y/N stirred in her sleep; she adjusted position, her hands wrapping around the top of her duvet as her face rested against her husband's thigh.
Chan held his breath. He braced himself for her to wake up. But she didn't, her chest rising and falling slowly again as she resumed her peaceful slumber.
"I'd be breaking my promise if I stopped … " Chan continued in a lower tone when he was sure she was asleep again. "I said I'd be here forever. I said I'd be here till the end … they're going to hate me more than they already do."
His shoulders were trembling now, his tears seeping into his shorts as they dripped off of his chin. He couldn't remember the last time he had poured his heart out like this; it wasn't that his wife was unapproachable. She was more understanding than he ever could have wished for. But he still hated burdening her … he wanted to be her strength, not give her another reason to worry about.
His fingers carded through her hair as he tried to regain his composure again. "Marrying you was the only decision I ever made for me. For my happiness. Maybe I was selfish for it … but you're the one thing that I could never give up."
He smiled then, his fingers trailing down Y/N's chin as his heart warmed at the sight of her. She truly was the one thing he had never regretted. Even the mountains of hate he had received after he had announced his love for her wasn't enough to deter him; to him, the entire world could turn against him and he wouldn't bat an eyelid. Not as long as he was waking up every morning next to the girl of his dreams.
"Maybe I should start thinking about my own happiness for once instead of everyone else's … " Chan mused, leaning his head back again as he looked up at the ceiling. He laughed under his breath. "Or maybe I'm delirious because it's so late."
"Or maybe, you're finally in your right mind."
Y/N's soft voice caused Chan's eyes to widen; he froze as Y/N shuffled and slowly sat up, a hand stifling a yawn. She smiled at the horror evident on his face, and a sleepy laugh left her as she witnessed his nose and wet cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
She reached over to her side of the bed and pulled a couple of tissues out of the box. Moving towards her husband again, she took the man's face in her hand and gently mopped up his tears with her other. She dabbed at his skin before doing the same to his fingers. They were dripping with his tears, now cold, and the cuff of his hoodie was equally as soaked and she smiled.
"Look at you," she murmured, kissing the back of his hand. "You're like a toddler."
At that, Chan couldn't help but laugh. He sniffed loudly as his wife smiled at him with her loving eyes.
"I thought you were asleep … " Chan whined, another shy chuckle bubbling out of him. " … did you hear everything?"
"I was asleep," Y/N said. "Until you started blubbing about how you used to be happy and you're not anymore."
"Hey!" Chan laughed and he playfully grabbed a cushion, hitting her arm with it as she giggled mischievously. He placed it back down again before she held her arms out to him, and suddenly wanting nothing more, Chan fell into her embrace. He let her wrap her comforting arms around his shoulders, his face falling into the crook of her neck. She smelled like his favourite place on earth; home. He smiled as fresh tears pooled in his eyes, and he shut them, his lashes fluttering against her skin.
"Do what makes you happy," Y/N hummed. It was her turn to caress his hair … she smoothed his unruly curls down with her fingertips, each one of the pads of her fingertips kissing his scalp and his forehead and his temples. "You've spent so much of your life working for the happiness of others … work for your happiness now. You're getting old, my darling."
A mixture of tears and laughter fizzed out of Chan at her last words. "I'm not that old."
"Who are you kidding?" Y/N joked, and she grinned when her husband's body shook with silent mirth against hers. "I know you're not that old. But you still deserve to start working on what makes you happy."
"But I'd be breaking my promise if I stopped … " Chan murmured. "You know I hate breaking promises."
"I do know that. But technically you're not breaking your promise … it's not like you'd disappear completely. I know you, Chris. You'd find a different way to keep in touch with the people who rely on you and need you … I know you wouldn't completely abandon them."
At that, Chan raised his head. He studied her face with his blurry eyes, and when he saw the clarity in his wife's, he smiled.
"You know me better than I do," Chan hummed, and Y/N smiled. She smoothed his fringe back before kissing his forehead.
"You know I'm going to support you no matter what you choose," Y/N whispered, caressing his face in her hands. "But I'd like you to be happy. I want to see you sparkle … but at the moment my angel isn't sparkling. This career has taken his sparkle away."
"My sparkle … " Chan repeated with a giggle. "What am I … a shiny Pokémon?"
"The rarest of rare shiny Pokémon," Y/N nodded, and her husband laughed as his nose burned red all over again. "But at the moment you're just a normal Pokémon. You need to find the shiny."
Chan smiled. "That's not how it works."
Determined, Y/N kissed his nose. "It's how it works in my world."
Chan leaned forward and hugged her around her middle. He smiled widely as he rested her cheek against her stomach, her hand soft in his hair. "I like your world."
He squeezed her tightly, suddenly overcome with a rush of affection for her. He rocked her side to side and Y/N giggled, sliding her arms around his shoulders. She breathed him in and kissed his hair as he seemed to melt into her body.
"Oh, and by the way … " Y/N suddenly pulled away and frowned down at him. "You are not ugly. And your body is beautiful. Maybe it's not the way you want it right now but it doesn't mean that it's any less beautiful, baby."
Chan sighed. He dropped his head against her again. "I know you keep saying that … but I just don't see it."
Smiling sadly, Y/N tightened her hold on him. "I know. But just you wait … I'll help you see it one day. I promise."
"Promise is a big word, baby."
"I believe in it," Y/N said. Then she grinned. "You stubborn mule."
Barking with sudden laughter, Chan moved away again. He suddenly tugged at his wife and pulled her down so they were both laying face to face under the duvet, their hands entwined and their hearts syncing.
"I believe in you," Chan yawned, resting his forehead against Y/N's shoulder. "So maybe one day I will see it."
"That's the first smart thing you've said today," Y/N said, and Chan burst into a fit of giggles all over again. He nuzzled his nose against the crook of her neck as she wrapped her arms around him like a heated blanket, insulating him with as much love as she could.
"I love you," Y/N whispered. She patted his head before resting a cheek against his hair, his hands going to rest at the small of her back. "And I'm always going to love you, no matter what you choose. That's another promise."
It was all Chan could do to nod against her chest. His eyes filled with tears all over again, and he bundled his fingers into her t-shirt.
---
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baby-yongbok · 3 months
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Ex
Boyfriend!Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
⇝ Genre: Angst then Smut then angst again. Dirty Drama.
⇝ Summary: We all have that one toxic person that we can’t let go of.
⇝ Warnings: Cheating , Arguing/Yelling, Dry Humping, Crying, Hyunjin is toxic - the manipulative type. (I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!)
⇝ Word Count: 2.9k
⇝ A/N: I'm sorry in advance. I live for the drama, I'm so so sorry. My depresso has been prompting me to write angst and this is what I came up with today. It might be intense? I don't know honestly. All I know is that writing angst makes me happy lol + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ I hope that you enjoy! Please don't hate me 💕
✧ Masterlist ✧
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It started with him forgetting coffee dates. The small chunks of time that the two of you carved out of your day to spend with each other quickly turned into bottled Starbucks drinks and ignored texts while you made your way to work. He said that it was because of his schedule and Hyunjin would never lie to you. 
Next were your nightly video calls. The two hours that you’d spend talking about your days and making future plans morphed into double and triple texting him until he replies with a lackluster night time send off and a declaration of love that you have no choice but to imagine leaving his lips. You haven’t heard from him in forever but it’s okay, you can fix this. 
You’re an artist, a digital artist for a living but a painter as a hobby. This trait is one of the many things that you and Hyunjin bonded over so when you proposed that the two of you do Paint and Sip dates on Friday nights he was all in. Everything was fine for a couple of weeks, you’d pick the picture and you’d both get to painting while you listen to your shared Spotify playlist. You’d talk and laugh while sipping whatever wine he brought with him, everything was finally feeling normal again but there was one thing that kept bothering you. 
His phone.
 It kept blowing up, vibrating, dinging and lighting up throughout the night. You’ve always understood that Hyunjin is a busy guy and his friends may need to reach him at odd hours of the night but there was something more to what you saw. He would ignore a message or two from Jeongin or even decline Chan’s calls from time to time but whenever his phone lit up with that damned flower icon he’d drop his brush like his life depended on it. 
You figured that as long as he’s here with you everything is fine. You never liked to micro manage and you're not the jealous type so snooping around wasn’t something that you were very into, until he canceled on you. Again. This is the third week that he’s said that something has come up and that he’ll be over at your place late. When you read his text you were already staring at his laptop wondering if it was really necessary to snoop through his cloud and read his texts. Surely he had a reasonable explanation for this right? Hyunjin would never lie to you. Right? You wanted to be right so badly and when you opened the computer, put in his password and clicked on the cloud you found out that you couldn’t be more wrong.
“What are you still doing up?” Hyunjin asked as he tiptoed into your bedroom. You were sitting at your desk with your phone in your hand, staring at your screen.
“How was your night?” You ask as you swipe on your phone, your eyes never leave the screen but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to notice.
“It was fine, got a lot done.” He turns towards your closet door but stops when he processes the mess around him. “Are these my clothes?”
“Yeah, you’re going to pack all of that along with whatever else you have around here and you’re going to leave.” He stares at you with pinched brows and then he takes in his scattered belongings again.
“What?” 
“You’re going to pack your shit.” You stand from your chair, glaring at him with narrow eyes. “And you’re going to go stay with her.”
You can practically hear him choke on his inhale once your words hit his ear. “Who are you talking about?”
“I can always make time for you just give me the date and the place.” You read from the screenshots illuminating your screen as you stalk towards him. “I hate when you ignore me, you know how much your attention means to me.”
“Stop it.” He turns to face you completely, watching you with worried eyes glazed with guilt.
“It doesn’t matter who I’m seeing, you know that you come first.” You project your voice so that it echoes off of every surface, he doesn’t get to avoid this. “Call me, I need to hear my baby.”
“How did you find those, you -” He sighs as you cut him off, practically yelling the next message.
“You left too many hickies to cover this time, I’ll return the favor on Friday.” 
“Enough of that, enough.” His tone tries to match yours but it fails, falling off into a pitiful whisper at the end. “You went through my computer?” 
He looks over at you with a cocktail of disbelief and disgust smeared over his features but you’re more than sure that the look on your face has got him beat. “ You’re fucking your ex.”
“It’s not like that, it's -” You cut him off, taking a wide step towards him.
“It’s not like that? You’re begging her for her time. You’re texting her every minute of every day. You’re fucking her and then coming here and fucking me, Hyunjin.”
“I know, okay I get that you’re mad, I’m sorry I just can’t let her go yet. It’s like there’s a piece of me that only she has possession of and no matter how much I try to ignore it I just can’t.” He runs his hands through his hair, his eyes taking in the way that your gaze cuts into him. 
“It’s been a year. I’ve been with you for an entire year. When did you have time to start this? How long have you been fucking her?” He shakes his head, turning towards the bedroom door to escape the situation in front of him. You follow hot on his trail, repeating your question. “How long?” You ask over and over until he finally snaps, yelling his answer in the middle of the living room.
“A couple of months, I don’t know five or six? Maybe even seven I don’t fucking know.” You scoff as rage floods through your veins and you pick up the nearest object and chuck it at him with all of the force you can muster. He dodges it easily but he doesn’t have as much luck with the remote that follows the path of the last item. “ Yara, stop it.”
The hiss in his voice turns into a loud gasp once he realizes his mistake. “Excuse me?” He called you by her name. His ex's name. 
“Fuck, I- I didn’t mean to call you that, angel, I swear it’s because we’re talking about her. That’s all. You’re not her, you’re so much better I swear. Let’s just - just talk about this okay?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I want you out of my house, now. I’m done, Hyunjin. I’ve been begging for your attention for months and you’re off giving it to someone who’s using you for sex and attention. I did so much, I’ve done everything, but clearly you love fucking so much that you fucked me over. Are you proud of that shit? Are you happy?” He takes a couple of slow steps over to you as you stand there, chest heaving and heart heavy with the sadness that has allowed your burning anger to be the star of the show until now. Maybe if he shows you that he wants you, maybe if he says that you two can fix this you’ll consider believing him.
We all have that one toxic person that we can’t let go of. He’s not at fault for being bound to her so tightly, even if he broke your heart in the process. 
“Listen, angel, I love you so much. I want to be with you, I really do, no one else has fought for me and my time like you have. I don’t want to lose that, please let’s just talk about this. I’ll do anything for you, I swear.” Your glare softens, call it wishful thinking or maybe you’re blinded by the desperate burn of love in your chest but you believe him. You believe him just enough to let him splay his long fingers over the curve of your hip and pull you closer to him.
“Why do you need me if you have her?” You stare at the middle of his chest, watching it rise and fall.
“Because you love me in a way that she never could and never will.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple as he brings his other hand to your waist. “She doesn’t see me like you do.”
He kisses over the shell of your ear, making his way down your neck. Your body is pressed against his as his hand kneads at the swell of your ass and he runs his tongue over the sensitive skin of your neck. You exhale heavily, bringing your hands up to rest on his biceps. You want to push him away, you want to get to the bottom of this and talk to him, so why are you pulling him closer? Why are you allowing small moans to leave your lips as he hypnotizes you into forgetting what he’s been doing to you.
“Hyunjin, stop it.” Your voice falters on the last word, giving way to the whimper fighting to escape your throat. 
“Push me away.” He whispers into your ear, his soft lips brushing against the shell of it and setting your nerves on fire. “If you mean it then push me away.” 
He stops everything, he doesn’t kiss you or squeeze you, you can hear the soft sound of his breathing and feel the gentle beating of his heart as his chest is pressed against your own. You can’t do this, you shouldn’t do this, your brain is screaming at you. You know better than to fall for this, push him away, now. Do it. 
“Don’t stop.” Your eyes flutter shut when he squeezes your ass again, pressing your hips into his so that the bulge in his pants pokes your belly button as it twitches in anticipation. 
“Say it again.” He plants a whisper of a kiss over your temple. “Say it again, angel, say my name.”
“Don’t stop, Hyunjin, please.” His kisses get sloppier as he gets closer to your lips, he plants a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth before catching your lips with his plump ones. You sigh into him, your hands fisting his shirt as your tongue tangles with his. He moans into your mouth, his hands tracing your hips as he takes some steps back, leading you both to the couch. 
“Tell me that you forgive me, baby.” He sits once the frame of the couch hits the back of his legs, dragging you down with him so that you're straddling his hips. His bulge pressed firmly into your dripping heat and you can’t help but to grind against him. Before you can settle into a steady rhythm Hyunjin grips your hips, holding you still against him. “Tell me.”
“I forgive you.” You mumble, the words sound just fine when they roll off of your tongue. They taste sweet as you lick your lips, staring into your lover's eyes defeatedly. You’re too deep into the brain fog, too desperate to feel the love that you’ve been chasing for months. You’d say anything just to feel Hyunjin touch you. You’d do anything to keep him here. 
“I knew you would.” He smiles up at you, starting to guide your hips against him. You throw your head back, your face contorting into a mask of pleasure. Hyunjin's fingers trace your jawline, sending chills down your spine. You close your eyes, allowing him access to any part of you he desires. “You need me too. Just like I need you, don’t you?”
You nod your head, picking up the rhythm of your hips as he starts to roll into you, matching your pace flawlessly. “I do, oh my god, I missed you.” You babble into the hot air as your hands find purchase on his shoulders. You can feel the night scarf covering your hair slip over the crown of your head and fall to the floor, your unruly hair frames your face and Hyunjin can’t help but to moan at the sight. 
“I missed my pretty baby too.” He grunts, eyebrows pinching together as he watches where your clothed cores press into each other. “Oh, fuck, I missed you so much.”
His hands are all over you as you move against him like he’s trying to memorize the pattern of your skin. He’s reintroducing himself with every pulse point that he can reach, lighting every inch of your skin aflame with desire. “Tell me your mine. Tell me you love me, please, please say it.”
“I’m all yours, angel. All fucking yours.” His hips buck up into you as your movements become more sloppy, your climax is dangling right in front of your face. It’s burning in the pit of your stomach, a strangled moan drags from your lips as you get closer to it.
“Again p-please, please, so close ‘s so close Jinnie, again.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, whimpers following your fucked out sentence as your eyes watch Hyunjin. You watch how he bites the tip of his tongue as he gets lost in this bubble of pleasure with you. Your own perfect shield of hot desire. 
“I love you.” He moans, throwing his head back against the couch, his grip on your hip tightens. The strength of his grasp is brushing yet delicious. “I’m yours. I’m all -” 
The melodic sound of Hyunjin’s phone ringing cut him off before he could finish his sentence. His head snaps up as his eyes widen and he stops moving against you. “Get off.”
You whimper, confused eyes staring down at him through your fucked out fog. “Angel, move.” He pushes you to the side much rougher than he intended and you watch him as he stands quickly, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and swiping the green button immediately. 
“Hey.” He clears his throat trying his best to not sound like he was seconds away from coming in his pants. “Yeah I can do that, just give me like twenty minutes, okay?” 
You listen, coming out of your haze just enough to process the situation. That ringtone sounded familiar, it’s the one that he always answers… It's her.
“Hyunjin.” You reach forward, grabbing his wrist but he pulls away, glancing back at you for just a second before turning his attention back to the phone call. 
“Nothing, that’s no one, I’m on my way.” You scoff, watching as he ends the call and starts to frantically fix his clothes. “I have to go something um - something came up.”
“You’re fucking kidding me.” Hyunjin ignores you, making his way over to your bedroom with you following close behind, a mirror image of what happened minutes ago. “You’re going to her? 
“She said that she needs me and I don’t -” 
“You just told me that you were mine. You just said that, Hyunjin.” You grab his wrist, prompting him to turn to you. He stares down at you with furrowed brows and glassy eyes like he’s in a fog, like he’s been hypnotized to follow a specific instruction. 
“And you said that you forgive me.” He reaches up to cup your cheek and your body melts into his touch before you can even fully process it. “I’ll be back tomorrow, angel. I’ll be yours tomorrow.”
His touch is gone just as fast as it came, leaving you with an empty ache in your chest as you watch him grab his bag and jacket. You stay rooted in place, feeling like your heart has been ripped out of your chest. “Hyunjin.” 
There’s a tremble in your voice as you say his name but he doesn’t seem to mind, it’s like he didn’t even hear you. “I love you.” He leans in to kiss your temple but misses completely, planting a half hearted peck against your hair as he rushes towards the door. You watch as he leaves, quiet and stunned. There are a million thoughts going through your head but you still feel unable to process what had just happened. The sound of the front door closing is what draws you out of your thoughts. 
The silence surrounding you allows room for the reality of the situation to echo around you, bouncing off of the walls and drowning you in this painfully unfamiliar feeling in your chest. You take a sharp inhale as tears start to prick at the back of your eyes. What was supposed to be a stable step towards your bed leaves sinking against its frame. You find yourself grasping one of Hyunjin’s shirts on the floor beneath you, your eyes trail from that garment to the next frantically. He’s everywhere. You can smell him, the soft cotton of the shirt makes you feel like you can feel the beating of his heart beneath it. Tears blur your vision as you sob into the fabric, clutching onto it like it’s all that you have left of him. Maybe it is. You gasp, a choked sob struggling past your lips as the true weight of the moment finally settles on your shoulders.
We all have that one toxic person that we can’t let go of.
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bread4innie · 4 months
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me: i love reading angst
me reading angst:
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moniescove · 4 months
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like him
snap!
"shit" is all jaemin can think as the girl he didnt even bother asking for a name peppers sloppy kisses along his neck. Her touch suddenly feeling nauseating as the flashes keep going off.
In a quick move Jaemin pushes the mystery girl off of him, hoping and praying that the camera was all his own imagination.
"What's wrong-" the puzzled girl starts before he cuts her off.
"Please just get out of the car I need to go." Jaemin says in a slur of words trying to get her out as quickly as possible. "But Jaem-"
"Please. Get out." Sternly he looks at her while unlocking his doors awaiting her leave.
"Ugh you're such a dick Na Jaemin." pouting the girl leaves the car and slams the door to head back to wherever she came from.
In the silence of the car his heart beats out of his chest before rushing home. But not before stopping at a flower shop to pick up a peony boquet. Your favorite.
Standing outside of your shared apartment Jaemin can only hope some higher power out there really can hear him and help him out. They just took the pictures, theres no way they've gone around yet. he tries to convince himself but being in this buisness for as long as he has, he'll be lucky if they aren't plastered on billboards right now.
With one final breath, boquet in hand as the other shakily reaches for the knob he goes in.
Relief washes over his anxious mind when he sees you watching television with nothing but nonchalance on your face as you witness the characters on screen laughing.
"Hey pretty lady" coyly he says as he approaches your shared couch with the boquet behind his back. Feeling relieved by the second realizing you havent seen anything yet.
"Hey Jaem" you say with the usual smile on your face. Skeptically eyeing him as he approaches with his hands behind his back. Finally standing in front of you he crouches down to land a kiss on your cheek before revealing the boquet he bought you.
"Aw you didn't have to babe." with a smile on your face you plant a kiss on a beaming Jaemin before getting up to look for a vase.
"Just felt like getting my princess something." Jaemin says following behind you before grasping your arm to pull you into his chest. Embracing you before planting a kiss on your forehead.
"Whats up with you today?" you giggle looking up at your boyfriend who can only grin back at you in order to mask his anxieties of you figuring him out. "Can't I just love my girlfriend?" Jaemin says before reaching in for another kiss.
"Which one?" you ask. His heart stops as the color begins to drain from his face.
"'nct Jaemin caught in car with girlfriend'" recalling the title of the article name as you look up at his aghast face. "I didn't know we went on a date today" you continue with not a single change in the smile you send his way. "From what I remember I've been here all day."
Jaemin's mouth opening and closing trying to form words but with no avail. All he can feel is guilt. In an attempt to save himself he starts "I don't know what you're talking about babe." he tries but fails.
"Jaemin" seperating from his grasp feeling repulsed you gulp down the lump forming in your throat. "Don't act stupid with me, I saw everything. The pictures the articles, everything." Unable to keep up the facade your face drops as your emotions finally come up to the forefront. Jaemin watches as your clear eyes become glossy with a blink, the way your face contorts into that of heartbreak and betrayal.
"B-baby you know those tabloids lie-" he lets out hesitantly trying to convince you to believe him as he walks towards you.
"Stop." finally the tears breaking through your eyes down your face all you can do is cry before continuing. "Please Jaemin, just leave I really don't want to play this game with you just please." All he can do is watch with unease as the one girl he shouldve loved and protected is hurting because of him.
"Please baby it was a misunderstanding, I don't even know that girl-"
"So all these years we spent together was worth a girl you didn't even know? Thats all we amount to? That's all I amount to? Because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants you decided to throw it all away?" through your messy tears you continue to break down. "You threw me away for a short high Jaemin." Throwing the boquet at his feet you finish. "I hope it was worth it."
Trying to push past his way Jaemin grabs your wrist. "Please baby I'm sorry it didn't mean anything." going on his knees to express his sincerity. Refusing to meet his eyes you attempt to pull your arm away to no avail as he brings your hand to his lips and lands a chaste kiss before sliding it to his cheek. "I know I fucked up please baby I promise I'll make it up to you." Jaemin continues to spill out to try and break through to you. All you could do is let out an exasperated laugh before finally looking at him kneeled before you with pleading eyes. The same eyes that promised you his future, the eyes that had all the answers you needed. The same eyes that threw it all away for a second of bliss.
Hurt and anger leaving you feeling nauseated as the tears kept falling down your face. You felt so betrayed that he could do this to you and so unabashedly beg for your forgiveness after crushing your heart like it was something as accessible as whats under his pants.
"You promised me you wouldn't be like him Jaemin. You promised you wouldn't hurt me the way he did." is all you could cry out without continuing to break down. And just like that Jaemin is left stumped trying to find words that won't come out, any word that he hoped would change your mind but nothing formed because he knew he lost you.
All the feelings of betrayal, insecurity, heartache, grief, new and old consumed you as the wounds in your heart continued to drive deeper with every aching memory that rushes back to you until all you feel is complete numbness watching the man who was once the love of your life hurt you in unimaginable ways. With not another word you turn around, walk out that door and never turn back.
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mnwrld · 2 months
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babysitter.com | hwang hyunjin x fem ! reader
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FLUFF & SMUT & SINGLE DAD ! HYUNJIN & FEM ! READER & MORE UNDER THE CUT ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
hyunjin's whole life changed when his daughter was born--it was the single best day of his life. but parenting was harder than he thought it would be, especially when he also needed to work to be able to provide for the light of his life. maybe a little help wouldn't hurt? where else could he look but the notorious 'babysitter.com' ?
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warnings. oral (fem rec), marking, p in v (penetrative) sex, protected sex, swearing, praise, sweet aftercare, eunji finds a vibrator under hyunjin's bed, hyunjin's ex is awful, reader is in college (university), hyunjin is very sweet with his daughter
word count. 7,681 words
note. okay our repost of dad hyunjin is here ! PLEASE PLEASE reblog / comment / send asks & let me know what you think ! i would greatly appreciate it ‹3
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Hyunjin was young when his daughter was born. Too young, his parents argued. But the moment his daughter was born, Hyunjin was in love. He loved her tiny hands, the shape of her small head, the way she cooed when she looked up to see him, and her beautiful eyes. So, he couldn’t understand why his, then, girlfriend handed her over after holding her for two minutes, looking utterly repulsed.
“I don’t want her.”
Hyunjin looked at her in shock, “What do you mean you ‘don’t want her?’ She’s your daughter.”
“I mean,” she snapped, looking at him coldly, “I don’t want her. I’m still young. I want to live my life. This is your fault anyways. If you’d worn a damn condom, we wouldn’t be here in the first place. Look, we’ll just give her up for adoption and—”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“What did you just say?”
“You must be fucking insane if your first thought is to give your child away. You held her for less than two minutes and you’ve already decided you don’t want her? That’s so fucked. No, you know what? I’ll take care of her. Like you said, I helped conceive her, so if you won’t do it with me, I’ll do it alone. I’m not giving her up.” Hyunjin held the small girl closer to his chest, almost as if he wanted to shield her from the hard gaze of her mother.
She scoffed, “Whatever. That’s your choice.”
Thankfully, she agreed to take care of the baby the few days she was required to stay in the hospital, but then she was gone, and it was up to Hyunjin to figure out how to raise his daughter on his own. He’d named his daughter Eunji—determined that her name, meaning kind and wise, would be her legacy. He bought books on parenting, researched which diapers were best for newborn babies, researched which formula would nourish his daughter the best, bought clothes, and all the necessary things a baby and a new parent might need.
And damn, it was hard.
There were many sleepless nights, many long days spent in his art studio still holding his daughter in his arms while in the midst of a finishing a painting for a class of his because he didn’t trust her with anyone else, many tears shed in private out of fear that he would never be good enough for his daughter. But when his mom stepped in to help, things got a little easier. Some of the stress was lifted off of his shoulders. He could work on his final projects without worrying about leaving his daughter. 
But when his daughter turned three, he finally made a name for himself in the art world. He attended gallery showings and sold several paintings at each of them, he gained new clients to commission for, he was successful. But his mom became too busy traveling around with his father to visit and take care of Eunji, so Hyunjin was left to find someone else who could watch her—she wasn’t so small that he could bring her to work anymore.
Finding a suitable babysitter was harder than Hyunjin would have anticipated. Most of the people he looked at were either too young for his liking or slightly older than he was comfortable with. Their resumes were incomplete, or they didn’t have the right experience or personality he was looking for. And just when he’d thought he’d found someone, the reviews people had left were terrible.
With a heavy sigh, he looked over at where Eunji lay napping on the couch. He focused his attention back on his laptop, determined to find a babysitter he could at least interview. He checked website after website after website and still he found no one. Until he was about to give up.
He refreshed the page and a resume showed up at the top. Ln Yn. He read through it and when he found that he was satisfied with the content, he called your number.
You hadn’t been expecting a call so fast. After all, you had just uploaded your resume to the website. But you tentatively answered the phone, hoping to sound professional and put together rather than as nervous as you felt.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this, yn?” A male’s voice spoke from the other end of the line.
You nodded, even if you knew he couldn’t see you, “Yes, this is yn. How can I help you?”
“Yeah, uh, my name is Hwang Hyunjin, and I saw the resume you just uploaded to babysitters.com. I’m hoping to find someone who can watch my three-year-old daughter, Eunji, on a regular basis. Would you be interested in coming in for a brief interview so I could get to know you and you could meet her? You wouldn’t have to commit to watching her even if you decide to come in for the interview, but I would really appreciate the help and you’re the only person I’ve found so far who fits the criteria I’m looking for.”
You were silent for a moment, thinking it over. You needed the job, quite honestly. And if you got there and felt like you didn’t mesh well with the kid or the dad, you could always say no. Besides, this was the whole reason you put your resume on that website. So, you took a deep breath, “Sure! When did you want to meet?”
“Do you have any free time this afternoon?” he sounded nervous to ask you to meet so soon. But it was a Saturday. So, you weren’t doing anything.
“Yeah, I’m free all afternoon.”
“Great, would you mind meeting at my apartment at 3:00pm? I’ll text you the address.”
“That’s perfect. I’ll look forward to meeting you then,” you smiled a little to yourself, proud that you managed to get the job so soon. You said your goodbyes and then hung up the phone squealing to yourself about how you were already succeeding.
As you got yourself ready to meet Hyunjin and his daughter, Eunji, you felt yourself growing increasingly more nervous. What if Hyunjin didn’t like you when you were there in person? What if his daughter didn’t like you? What if you said the wrong thing or dressed the wrong way?
Your afternoon passed quickly as you paced nervously around your apartment. You decided to pack your bag with the toys and books you’d typically bring to entertain the children you watched, hoping it might win over Eunji and show that you were serious about wanting the job. Half an hour before you were supposed to meet Hyunjin, he texted you his address and you were on your way.
You were standing in front of his door five minutes early, giving yourself a pep talk and trying to calm your nerves. With one final deep breath, you raised your hand to knock on the door of his apartment. It only took him a few seconds to open the door and you could hear him talking to, who you assumed, was his daughter through the door.
“Hi,” he breathed out when he opened the door, offering you a half smile and leaning against the door frame. His daughter peeked out from behind his legs. “Yn?”
“Yes. You must be Mr. Hwang—”
“Please, call me Hyunjin.” He shook his head and ushered you inside.
You paused to crouch down and say hi to Eunji, who still clung to Hyunjin’s legs. “And you must be Eunji. I’m yn. It’s so nice to meet you.”
She smiled back shyly at you, waving her small hand in greeting. You stood and followed Hyunjin into the apartment, sitting down at the kitchen table.
“Do you want anything to drink?” He asked, opening the fridge and peering inside.
“Just water is fine.” You watched as he got two glasses down from the cupboard and filled them with water. “If you don’t mind me asking… how old are you? You look… pretty young, but I don’t want to assume.”
He laughed a little and shook his head, “It’s fine. I’m 25. I’ll be 26 soon, though. My ex and I had Eunji pretty young. It wasn’t planned, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love her more than anyone.”
“And is… your ex in the picture?”
“No,” Hyunjin scoffed, setting the glass of water in front of you and then settling himself across the table from you, lowering his voice slightly so that Eunji, who was playing in the living room, couldn’t hear him. “After she was born, my ex didn’t want anything to do with her. So, I took her. I was in my final few weeks of university and had a part time job as a barista at a coffee place down the road. It was a lot of work, but my mom has been helping out. She’s not able to come over anymore though. Now that I’m a little more successful in the art industry, she’s decided it’s a good time for her and my dad to do some traveling.”
You nodded, taking a small sip of your water. He had your resume printed out and laid in front of him. He seemed to take everything very seriously when it came to taking care of his daughter, which made sense to you, but it still made you nervous.
“Okay, so I hope you don’t mind if I walk through your resume with you? I’m sorry if this seems too… formal for a babysitting job, but I just really want to leave my daughter in good hands.”
“No, of course I don’t mind. It makes perfect sense,” you shook your head and folded your hands together on the table in front of you to keep yourself from fidgeting.
“Perfect. So, you’re a college student?”
“Yeah. I’m in my last year of university. I take a couple night classes as well as online classes, so if you’re looking for someone to watch Eunji during the day, I would definitely be free.”
He hummed as he read through your resume again. “It says here that you have experience nannying and babysitting. How many families have you done that for?”
“Well,” you thought back to when you started babysitting and nannying, “I’ve babysat for a lot of different families, but I’ve only nannied for three. I stopped nannying for them when they didn’t need a nanny anymore, but I was never dismissed for my character or actions.”
“And I see that all three of the families you nannied for are listed here as references. If I were to call them, they’d give you a good review?”
“I’m sure they would. They always told me they appreciated my work ethic and attitude. I’ve also been told numerous times that I’m really good with kids. I’ve always loved children. I’m resourceful and can handle multiple kinds of situations with ease. I’m easily adaptable and get along well with kids because of that. You know how unpredictable they can be.”
Hyunjin nodded along as you expressed to him your skills and qualifications. He asked you a few more questions pertaining to your resume and when he was satisfied with your answers, he pushed the paper to the side and stood up. “I’m going to get Eunji so you can meet her properly. I’d like to see how she feels about you.”
“Of course!” You agreed, standing as well and migrating to the living room.
A few moments later, Hyunjin returned, guiding his small daughter to sit on the couch next to you. “Can you say hi, sweetheart?”
“Hi,” Eunji said in a small, shy voice, smiling a little at you.
“Hi Eunji! I have some games and books in my bag, do you want to check them out?” You knelt on the floor in front of her, opening up the bag. “You might already have some of these, but if there’s anything you don’t have, you’re welcome to look at it, play with it, or whatever.”
Eunji sat down on the floor in front of you, looking through your bag and pulling out books, toys, and games she’d never seen before. She looked up at you, very seriously, “Are you good at reading stories?”
“Oh,” you leaned in to whisper, looking around as if someone other than her might hear, “I’ve been told I’m one of the best at reading stories.”
“Really? Do you do the voices?”
You put a hand over your heart, pretending to be offended that she would even ask. “Of course, I do the voices. It’d be a crime not to!”
Eunji giggled and you looked up at Hyunjin who was already smiling down at you. He could already tell you’d be a great addition to their home.
Your first day watching Eunji honestly couldn’t come fast enough. You already adored her and the prospect of getting paid so well just to take care of her certainly was an added bonus. Not to mention, Hyunjin himself was hot and you appreciated that he made you feel comfortable in his home and with him and his daughter. You could not have thought up a better situation if you tried. Being Eunji’s nanny really was the most ideal job situation you could have asked for.
You showed up at Hyunjin’s apartment ten minutes early, too eager to wait. When Hyunjin opened the door, he looked happy to see you. He stepped aside to let you come inside the apartment. “Thanks for being early, yn. Eunji’s kind of having a rough morning, so it’ll be better for both of us to be here for a few minutes so she’ll do better when I leave for work.”
As if on cue, Eunji sobbed loudly from her room down the hall. Hyunjin’s face blanched and he turned on his heel quickly to meet Eunji in her room. You followed behind him, stopping in the doorway to watch as he hugged Eunji, speaking to her softly.
“My love, I’ll be back after work like always, okay? I promise. I’ve always come back, haven’t I?”
Eunji sniffled, rubbing at her eyes as she pulled away to look at Hyunjin’s face. “Y-yeah. You always come back.”
“Right. So don’t worry that I won’t come back this time. I’d do anything to get back to you. I always will, okay?” Hyunjin smoothed Eunji’s hair with his hand, then he adjusted her shirt, straightening it on her shoulders. “You’ve already met yn, so you know she’s nice. She’ll be here until I’m done with work. So you’ll never be alone.”
“O-okay, dad.”
Hyunjin looked relieved that she was no longer crying. “Give me one more hug before I go.”
Eunji wrapped her small arms around her dad’s neck, hugging him tight. Hyunjin sighed softly, holding his daughter impossibly close, “That’s my girl.”
“Dad,” Eunji whined, giggling a little at the end, “you’re holding me too tight.”
“Sorry, my baby.” Hyunjin reluctantly let go and stood, “Why don’t you play with your toys while I talk to yn real quick?”
She nodded and sat on the floor, playing with the various dolls scattered on the ground. You moved out of the doorway to give Hyunjin room to walk past. He sighed as he tugged his jacket on and gathered his messenger bag. “I hate leaving when she’s upset like that. If she starts crying again, just give me a call. I can cancel the couple meetings I have today and put the painting off a little longer. My mom’s phone number is also on the fridge in case you can’t get ahold of me. There’s food in the pantry and the fridge. She’s allowed to watch two hours of TV, but preferably no more than that. She’s got plenty of toys and practice level books or there are board games in the closet. Hm, I think that’s it. I’ll probably be home around 6:00 or 6:30 this evening, so you don’t need to worry about dinner—I’ll make something for Eun and I when I get back.”
“Everything will be fine, Hyunjin—you don’t have to worry. I’ll be sure to call if needed, but I’m confident we’ll be just fine.” The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you pushed Hyunjin towards the front door, “You should go now before you’re late for that meeting at the art gallery. Eunji will be fine.”
Hyunjin nodded and then called for his daughter, “Eun! I’m leaving! Come say goodbye.”
The small three-year-old came running out of her room, jumping into her dad’s arms to say goodbye one more time. You watched as Hyunjin said his goodbyes, reminding Eunji to behave while he was gone. He set his daughter back on the ground and waved goodbye to you. You couldn’t help but think of how sweet and domestic everything was. One thing you were sure of: Hyunjin was a really good dad.
“What do you want to do first?” You asked as you picked Eunji up, balancing her on your hip.
“Do you wanna play dolls with me?” She asked you, eyes wide and hopeful.
“I would love to,” you smiled, carrying him back to his room. “Which doll do you want me to be?”
“You can be the doll with the purple hair and I’ll be this one. Let’s pretend we’re trapped in a tower, and then I escape the evil witch but you’re stuck there, and you ask me to help you but then I just help myself and…”
Yeah, you were going to love this job.
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You watched Eunji almost everyday. It was rare for Hyunjin to have a whole day off these days. He was quickly gaining a clientele and was, thus, much busier. But you didn’t mind. You liked spending time with Eunji. You had a system that worked well. You arrived at Hyunjin’s apartment at 7:30am, played games with Eunji until lunchtime, put her down for a nap after lunch, watched an hour to two hours of television when she woke up, and then played some more until Hyunjin arrived back at home.
When she took her nap, you worked on your homework or did chores around the apartment. It wasn’t in your job description, but you knew it made Hyunjin’s life much easier, and you didn’t mind doing it for him. 
But sometimes, on special days, you would take Eunji to the park to play. And on days even more special than that, Hyunjin would join you. It was one of those special days. One of those very special days. 
“Thanks for letting me join you guys today. I always love spending time with Eunji. And it’s nice when you’re there too.” 
Hyunjin grinned at you. “You don’t need to thank me. You’re pretty much a part of our family at this point. I-I mean, in the sense that you spend so much time with Eunji and everything. Oh, look! That’s a friend of mine, Lee Felix. Let me introduce you to him.” 
You followed behind Hyunjin as he led you to another young man sitting on one of the park benches. He had his arm around the shoulders of a woman and was talking animatedly to two young girls standing in front of him. Hyunjin called out to Felix and all four people turned to look at him. One of the little girls—a sweet girl with freckles that matched her father’s—squealed and ran toward him. 
“Uncle Hyunjin!” 
“Hey, Hoyeon,” Hyunjin laughed as she jumped into his arms. He hugged her tightly before setting her down on the ground. 
The other girl was a bit more shy when coming up to Hyunjin. She hid behind Hoyeon partially and smiled a little when she waved her small hand. “Hi, Mr. Hyunjin.” 
“Hi, sweet Hana.” He opened his arms, silently asking if she wanted to hug him. She grinned widely and approached him more quickly, hugging him back. 
Hyunjin stood and nodded at the woman sitting beside Felix before leaning in to hug Felix, who had stood up as well. “Hi, Felix.” 
“Hey, man. Long time no see! Hoyeon was actually just asking about you. Wanted to know when she could visit you and Eunji again.” 
You looked over to where Eunji was now playing with the two slightly older girls, giggling and running along behind them gleefully. You turned back to Felix and stretched your hand out in introduction. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m yn.” 
“Oh?” Felix shook your hand and then smirked at Hyunjin. “Are you Hyun’s girlfriend?”
Your face felt hot as you blinked rapidly, trying to process what he had said. “N-no! I’m the nanny. I watch Eunji when Hyunjin is busy with work.” 
“Ah, right, right. He did mention he had gotten a nanny recently.” Felix nodded in understanding, but his deep voice still sounded mischievous and the smirk was still evident on his face. 
“Don’t pay him any mind,” Hyunjin scoffed, slapping Felix’s shoulder lightly and rolling his eyes. “He’s an idiot who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 
“Actually, I’m pretty sure you’re the idiot in this friendship. Remember that time when—”
“How about you sit back down next to your girlfriend and stop trying to expose my most embarrassing moments to my daughter’s nanny.”
Felix laughed at that but shrugged and nodded before sitting down next to the woman on the bench again. “Don’t worry, Hyun. We’re leaving soon anyway. We have a dinner with my parents soon.” 
Hyunjin nodded and then crouched beside the bench to talk with Felix until it was time for you to leave. You struck up small talk with his girlfriend, connecting quickly. You found out that one of the girls, Hana, was her daughter while the other, Hoyeon, was Felix’s. You also found out that she had only met Felix after their daughters became friends at school. The story left you feeling fuzzy inside and ignited the hopeless romantic in you. 
“Hana! Hoyeon!” Felix called, pulling you away from your conversation. “Time to go girls!” 
The two girls came running, little Eunji hurrying after them so she could say goodbye. Both of the “big girls” (as Eunji dubbed them) hugged her before turning to hug Hyunjin and wave a shy goodbye to you as well. You exchanged numbers with Felix’s girlfriend and hugged Felix (you’d quickly found he was a hugger). 
After the four left, Eunji pulled on Hyunjin’s fingers to grab his attention. “Can I play for a little longer?” 
“Sure, my love,” Hyunjin agreed, sitting on the bench where Felix had once sat. “But make sure you stay where I can see you.” 
Eunji agreed and then made her way toward the playground. She quickly made friends with another girl her age on the playground and they set to playing, their small giggles drifting to you and Hyunjin on the wind. 
“How are your studies going?” Hyunjin asked, eyes still fixed on his daughter. “I hope I’m not pulling you away from them by having you watch Eunji so often.” 
“They’re going well. Don’t worry, Hyunjin. I wouldn’t agree to watch her if I didn’t think I could manage it.” 
He nodded and then looked over at you, smiling gently. “I’d like to paint you someday.” 
“I—you—what?” 
“I want to paint you. You have a lovely smile.” Hyunjin’s gaze was sincere and his words were kind. You found it hard to resist him. You’d been watching Eunji for just over two months and you found your heart beating faster around him these days. 
You knew you were catching feelings for him, and that terrified you. “Oh, well… Thanks, Hyunjin.” 
“I have an unrelated question.” 
“What’s your question?” 
Hyunjin turned back to look at Eunji out on the playground. “Do you have a boyfriend?” 
“Why do you want to know?” You teased, jabbing him in the side with your elbow.
He shrugged, grinning slyly but still not looking at you. “Just curious, is all.” 
“To answer your question… I do not have a boyfriend.” 
“A girlfriend, then?” 
“No. No girlfriend either.” 
“Any sort of significant other?”
You shook your head, pushing at Hyunjin’s shoulder for being so ridiculous. “No. I’m not in a relationship.” 
“Interesting,” he hummed, crossing his arms. He couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his lips. 
“What about you? Felix seemed to think you had one.” 
He laughed a little, shaking his head and turning to look at you again. “Nah. Felix doesn’t know what he’s saying half the time. But I’m not in a relationship. I haven’t been since Eunji was born.” 
“Would you like to be?” 
“Maybe,” he shrugged, eyes glistening with unspoken happiness. “If I found the right person.” 
You opened your mouth to say something when Eunji came skipping back to the two of you. “Dad, I’m hungry. Can we go back home and eat dinner?” 
“Of course, darling,” Hyunjin scooped his daughter up, kissing her on the cheek. “Let’s go home.” 
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“I’m home!” Hyunjin called as he unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside, dropping his things by the door and shrugging off his jacket.
Eunji went running out of her room, “Dad! You’re back! Guess what, Dad? Yn says that I’m a big girl now!”
“What?” Hyunjin pretended to be shocked, picking Eunji up after rolling his sleeves to his elbows, “That’s not possible, you’re still my little baby!”
“No, I’m not! I’m a big girl now!” Eunji giggled, squirming in her dad’s grasp.
You watched from the living room with a smile. Hyunjin looked over at you and grinned slyly. “I may have to let yn go for putting such silly ideas in your head, then.”
“No!” Eunji pouted. “I like yn. I want her to stay.”
“Okay, okay,” Hyunjin laughed, “Then we’ll keep her around. But she better not put any more funny thoughts in your head. Especially not about being a big girl. You’re growing up fast enough as it is. Stay my baby for just a little longer.”
Eunji didn’t answer, she just wiggled out of Hyunjin’s arms and ran over to sit on your lap on the couch. Hyunjin looked a bit surprised but then he smiled and slipped his shoes off, moving to sit beside you as well.
“What did you two do today?”
“We played dolls and read books and yn made me a sandwich for lunch and we watched a movie and played more games!” Eunji rattled off excitedly, settling into your lap. “Can yn stay for dinner?”
You stopped her, “Oh, I don’t know if that’s—”
“Yn can stay for dinner if she wants, but let’s not force her, alright sweetheart?” Hyunjin interrupted you, putting a hand on your knee and smiling gently.
You felt like your stomach was doing backflips when his skin touched yours. Your brain was short circuiting at the small smile playing across his lips. You’d been watching Eunji for almost three and a half months, but you’d never stayed for dinner. As much as you wanted to, you tried not to get too close to Hyunjin—for the sake of professionalism, you told yourself. Really, it was just because you were scared of getting attached to him and Eunji and then getting your heart broken.
“I…” You paused before continuing, looking into Hyunjin’s hopeful eyes. “Yeah. Sure. I don’t have any other plans, so I would love to stay for dinner.”
“Great. I’ll get started, then.” Hyunjin stood up, shooting you another quick smile and ruffling Eunji’s hair as he walked past.
“Let’s go play princesses while Dad makes dinner!” Eunji scrambled out of your lap, toddling off to her room, expecting you to follow behind her. So, you did.
Thirty minutes later, Hyunjin stood in the doorway, watching you play princesses with a giggling Eunji. He finally cleared his throat, making you look toward him, “Dinner is ready, guys.”
You stood, grabbing Eunji’s small hand and guiding her to the bathroom, “Let’s go wash our hands, Eunnie.”
Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile as you helped Eun wash her hands before dinner. A thought flashed through his mind—you looked like you were meant to be there in his house with his daughter—but he quickly dismissed it. He couldn’t possibly get attached to you. You were just his daughter’s nanny. That was all.
When the three of you were seated at the dinner table, you also couldn’t shake the thought that being there with Hyunjin and Eunji was so natural—so right. You thanked Hyunjin for making dinner—a beef bibimbap—and carefully took a bite under the scrutinizing gazes of both Hyunjin and Eunji. It was just as delicious as it smelled and you smiled at Hyunjin after you swallowed, “It’s great, Hyunjin. You’re a really good cook.”
His face turned red and he scratched the back of his neck shyly, “Oh, it’s nothing, really. I’m mediocre at best.”
“No, seriously,” you placed your hand over his gently, “it’s really good.”
He stared at you until Eunji started giggling. You pulled your hand away and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Eunji spoke through her fit of giggles, “Dad, you were looking at yn with your mouth open like a fish!”
Hyunjin’s face turned red again and this time, the embarrassed flush covered the tips of his ears as well. You giggled along with Eunji, “He did look like a fish, didn’t he?”
“Hey,” Hyunjin pouted, crossing his arms in mock upset, “don’t make fun of me. I just spaced out for a second, is all.”
“Sure you did,” Eunji rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m pretty sure you were just staring because you think yn is beau—”
“Okay, that’s enough of that. Eun, finish your dinner so you can take a bath before bed,” Hyunjin stopped his daughter from finishing his thought, but it was still clear what she had been about to say. It made you happy to think that maybe Hyunjin thought you were beautiful, considering you felt that way about him.
The rest of dinner went by smoothly and you avoided embarrassing yourself successfully. Hyunjin stood up, corralling Eunji to the bathroom before turning to you, “I’ll get her bath started and be right back.”
You nodded and watched as he followed Eunji to the bathroom before standing and bringing all the dishes to the sink. Hyunjin came back out when you were finishing up the last plate. He stood beside you at the sink, watching as you dried the plate and set it on the drying rack.
“You didn’t need to do that, you know I could have done it. You’re our guest.”
You shook your head and smiled at him as you leaned against the counter, “It didn’t feel right to just sit there and do nothing. It’s the least I can do. You know, to say thank you for the job. It’s been so great getting to watch Eunji and the money definitely helps me pay my rent.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Hyunjin said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “Having you here to watch Eun is more than enough.”
“If I didn’t have to pay for rent and college, I’d watch her for free,” you murmured, trying not to get lost in Hyunjin’s eyes.
He took a step closer to you, his hand holding the crook of your neck and his eyes never leaving yours, “Yn, I—”
“Dad! I’m done!” Eunji yelled from the bathroom, pulling Hyunjin from his stupor.
He looked at you for a second longer before calling back to Eunji, “I’m coming baby!”
You took a deep breath and fanned yourself with your hands, trying to cool your face and calm your racing heart. You sat back at the table, waiting for Hyunjin and Eunji to come back. It didn’t take very long though, and soon Eunji was running toward you, wrapped in a fluffy pink bathrobe over her Frozen pajamas. She tugged on your fingers, pulling you out of your chair.
“Come read me a bedtime story!”
“Hm, what’s the magic word Eunnie?” You asked, allowing her to lead you down the hallway to her bedroom.
“Pleeeeaaaase?” She begged, looking at you with the puppy dog eyes you never could ignore.
So, you nodded and helped her get tucked into bed while Hyunjin watched, leaning against the doorway like he always did when he watched you take care of Eunji. You picked out a book—one that Eunji liked a lot—and sat on the edge of her bed to read her the story. She fell asleep quickly (she didn’t even make it to her favorite part in the story) but you read the entire thing anyways just in case she wasn’t really asleep. And when you finished, you kissed her forehead, not even thinking about the intimacy of the action.
“Goodnight, Eunnie,” you whispered, brushing her hair away from her eyes and pulling the blankets up a little higher before turning off the lamp and switching on the nightlight.
“You’re so good with her,” Hyunjin murmured as you closed Eunji’s bedroom door behind you. “No one’s ever been that good with her other than me. We did try a few other babysitters before my mom was able to help. And then, not even she was able to get her calm so quickly. She really likes you.”
“Oh, i-it’s nothing, I just—”
“I really like you too.”
You just stared at him for a long moment, searching his eyes for any sign that he was kidding. There was no way this was real. You just weren’t that lucky. But he looked genuine and you couldn’t find any hint of insincerity in his eyes. You reached up slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck, a sudden surge of bravery taking over you.
“Yeah? How much?”
He breathed out, his brain going fuzzy from your close proximity. “So much.”
“How about,” you stepped just a little closer, your chest almost touching his, “we have a glass of wine and you tell me how much you like me, yeah?”
He had been expecting a very different statement so it took him a moment to fully register what you had actually said to him. But slowly, he nodded his head and stepped away from you, holding your hand and taking you back to the kitchen where he poured two glasses of wine for the two of you.
“You’re not… uncomfortable knowing that I like you, are you?”
“Obviously not,” you laughed, taking a small sip of the drink in front of you. “I thought I was pretty clear about my feelings in the hallway.”
“Girls are confusing. They always think they’re being clear but… clear would be you saying, ‘yeah Hyunjin, I like you too’ instead of making my brain foggy with your little mind games,” he huffed, pouting as he took a long sip of his own drink.
“Yeah Hyunjin. I like you too,” you whispered, not looking up from your drink.
“Fuck, I can’t do this,” Hyunjin stood up and you looked at him, eyes wide and worried. Had you misread the situation?
But he grabbed your wrist gently, even amidst his haste, and took you into his room, wine half finished and left behind as he locked the door after you. You leaned against the door, your eyes adjusting to the dark and your heart pounding out of your chest as you felt his body pressed against yours.
“You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?” He gasped, craning his neck to lay his head on your shoulder. “You don’t fucking know how badly I want you.”
“Show me.”
His lips were on yours in seconds, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you with him to his bed. “This is so wrong, yn. You’re my daughter’s babysitter.”
“I know,” you gasped between kisses, tugging your shirt over your head when you broke apart.
“She’s in the next room—”
“I know.”
Maybe we shouldn’t—”
“Hyunjin, I want you to fuck me.”
He groaned low in his throat, pulling his own shirt off and leaning over you to kiss you again, teeth and lips and tongues clashing against one another as he pressed closer and closer and closer to you fervently. He moved on to your neck, leaving small kisses scattered across your smooth skin, but not marking you—he didn’t want to risk his daughter seeing and asking too many questions.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, nipping lightly at your stomach and leaving fluttering kisses across your chest and ribcage. “So, so beautiful.”
You gasped as his hands skillfully undid the clasp of your bra, pulling it off and tossing it to the side. His hands were warm. Everywhere his skin touched yours felt like magic—felt right. He felt right. It was almost too good to be true.
“Hyunjin,” you whispered, holding onto his shoulders tightly, “need you now.”
“Yeah?”
He looked at you, leaving a small kiss to the hollow space between your collarbones, and unbuttoned your pants, sliding them down your legs and throwing them with the rest of your clothes. He played with the elastic hem of your underwear, “Do you want me to keep going?”
“Yes, please.”
“You can stop me at any time. We’ll only go as far as you want.” Hyunjin’s voice was quiet but firm. It made your heart swell to know he cared enough about you to consider what you wanted and to assure you that he wouldn’t pressure you to go all the way if you didn’t want to—though now that you were nearly naked in front of him, you couldn’t possibly stop. You were almost desperate.
“Okay. But I don’t want you to stop. I want you to touch me.”
He smirked at you and tugged your underwear off, settling between your legs and hooking them over his shoulders. “I’ll do you one better.”
He kissed up your thighs, biting gently and leaving faint marks over the soft flesh. You shuddered when he pressed a gentle kiss to your clit, giving you an instant of pleasure and relief where you needed him most. But he pulled away again as quickly as he came.
“Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes Hyunjin. I’m positive. I want this. I want you.”
He nodded and buried his face between your legs, licking a slow stripe over your entrance, “God, you smell and taste so good. You’re actually perfect, what the fuck.”
You hummed in response, too distracted by the way his tongue and his lips felt against your body. He groaned as you threaded your fingers through his hair and pushed his face harder against you. Maybe it was because you hadn’t had sex in months, or maybe it was because it was Hyunjin (or maybe it was a little bit of both) but you felt your orgasm drawing close faster than you thought was even possible.
“H-Hyunjin, stop,” you moaned out, pushing his face away from you. He looked up at you, your arousal dripping from his chin and his eyes wide and worried. “I just… wanna cum when you’re inside.”
He smirked at you and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before moving up your body to kiss you again. He sat up to unbutton his own pants and push them down his legs, followed by his boxers. He leaned over you to pull a condom from his nightstand.
“Hm, how many girls have you had sex with recently for you to keep condoms in your drawer?” You teased, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him roll the condom over his painfully hard dick.
Even in the darkness of his room, you could tell his face was flushed. “N-none… I just… wanted to be prepared in case I met someone.”
“I’m teasing,” you giggled, pulling him down to kiss you again once the condom was on, “I know how you feel about one-night stands.”
He felt like his heart was melting when you said that. You didn’t stay late often. In fact, you had never stayed as late as dinner and putting Eunji to bed before that night, but you had spent occasional Saturdays at the park with the two of them and you had talked with Hyunjin about a lot of things. The fact that you remembered he wasn’t a ‘one-night stand’ kind of guy somehow made his heart swell with happiness.
“Are you ready?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumb gently over your cheek as he looked into your eyes.
“Yes.”
He positioned himself at your entrance and pushed in slowly. You squeezed his shoulders and gasped softly, trying not to make too much noise. If you woke Eunji up, you would bury yourself alive—there would be no way you would ever be able to face her again. He groaned deeply right into your ear, hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure you’d have finger shaped bruises in the morning.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” Hyunjin moaned quietly, breathing heavily as he tried hard to stay still and give you time to adjust to his size.
“You can move,” you finally whispered, kissing his shoulder, “Please move.”
He started slow, thrusting his hips at a slow, steady pace. You bit your lip and peppered small kisses across his chest and shoulders to keep yourself quiet as he slowly sped up. He whispered sweet affirmations in your ear as he thrust into you, the tip of his dick hitting every perfect spot inside of you.
“I really fucking like you, yn,” he moaned, “I haven’t liked anyone this much in years.”
“I like you. So much,” you whined out, vision blurry as you drew closer to your high, “Hyunjin, I’m s-so close.”
“Me too, sweetheart. You gonna cum with me?” You nodded quickly, humming softly as you forgot how to speak. He grinned wolfishly and thrusted his hips even harder, “Fuck, I’m coming, baby.”
You whined softly as you came hard around his dick. He held you closer to him as he moaned as quietly as he could and you felt his cum fill the condom. He sighed happily and pulled out slowly, trying to be careful since you were still sensitive. He pulled the condom off carefully and tied it off before throwing it in the trashcan in the bathroom.
“I’ll be right back, sweetheart, I’m just going to get a washcloth and some water for you, okay?”
You nodded tiredly and rolled onto your side to watch him walk away. You tried hard to keep your eyes open so you didn’t fall asleep before he came back. Thankfully, just as your eyes were closing, he came back, a glass of water and a washcloth in hand. He sat down on the edge of the bed and helped clean you up before holding the glass of water to your lips to help you drink.
“Will you stay the night?” He asked, looking at you hopefully as he crawled under the covers again.
You giggled a little and curled into his side, making yourself comfortable, “I’m too tired to leave, so you’re stuck with me for the rest of the night.”
“Hm, I don’t mind that.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and held you as close to him as was physically possible. “I would… really like to take you out on a proper date… if you want to, of course.”
“I would love to, Hyunjin.”
“Thank god, I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no.”
“You probably would have died from the embarrassment,” you teased, rubbing your hand up and down his side soothingly.
“Hm, yeah.” He was quiet for a moment before sighing. “I don’t know what to say to Eun…”
“Just tell her the truth. Tell her I’m going to be around more and that you like me. I think she already knows you like me, but she’ll appreciate you telling her anyway.”
Hyunjin nodded slowly, “Yeah. That’s a good idea…”
His voice trailed off and the two of you drifted off to sleep. You rested well in the arms of the man you had developed feelings for, happy that for once, your feelings weren’t unrequited. And Hyunjin rested happily, wondering if maybe, just maybe, you’d stay for good.
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“Hey Dad! What does this thing do?” Eunji asked, holding up a handheld, bright pink vibrator. It had been almost a month since you and Hyunjin had admitted you had feelings for one another and you had been spending a significant amount of time at Hyunjin’s apartment—to the point your things were scattered in random places throughout his apartment.
“What thing—oh my god, put it back, Eunji!” Hyunjin’s eyes widened as he took the vibrator from his daughter frantically, “Where did you even get this?”
“From the secret box under your bed! There’s a lot of toys like this. But they don’t look very fun. What do you even do with them?”
Hyunjin looked at you, completely distressed, and you took this as your cue to take over. “Eunji, honey, these aren’t toys, they’re tools. Your dad uses them for some of his important projects. You shouldn’t touch them since they’re not yours, though, okay?”
“Oh. No wonder they don’t look fun,” Eunji pouted, handing the vibrator to you, “Dad, you need to find a better hiding place for your work tools. Under your bed is where your favorite, special toys go, silly!”
“Toys actually should get put away in your closet, my love, but I’ll be sure not to leave my work tools under the bed anymore, okay? Now can you please, put it back yn?”
You laughed and patted Hyunjin on the shoulder as you walked past, “I’ll put it back, but we’re just going to be using it again later.”
“For the love of god, you are going to kill me!”
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i hope you all enjoyed 'volcano : part one' and are looking forward to more of my future works. if you enjoyed this and would like to be added to my permanent taglist, please fill out the taglist form here !
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