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TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Han x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle masterlist

Synopsis: You and Han become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (12,9k words)

Author's note: I hope you like this one too. Don't be shy to add your feedback :)

If you were in paradise with good company and had to resist sex, could you?

We found the hottest, horniest, commitment-phobic singles and gave them what they think is the most exotic and erotic summer of their lives.

Only to reveal that one thing is off the menu is sex.

At stake is a prize of $200,000 which will plummet if they get naughty. The question is, in a world without sex, will they form deeper and more meaningful connections?

Or will the temptation be too hot to handle?

-

"I'm here!" Han announces his arrival and shouts it toward the beach.

Instead of feeling nervous, he feels good to be the first one to enter the villa. At least this way, he wouldn't feel intimidated when he sees people who are more good-looking than him.

There's not much to do with no one to interact with, he grabs one of the cocktails served on the small round table and takes a sip.

He turns the other way, sipping his cocktail while looking at the beautiful view of the sea that goes as far as his eyes can see.

"Oh, it's so gorgeous here," he says with a delightful sigh.

Little did he know, that's not the only gorgeous thing he'll see today.

-

HAN: I'm charming 24/7, that's for sure [laughs] Girls often say they like my smile [brightly smiles] and I won't disagree with that [chuckles] I'm all about a good chat, I'm good listener. I gather pieces of information, I use them at the right time, and [makes shooting gesture] That's part of the secret.

-

Han has to squint his eyes against the blinding sunlight and see two girls coming his way. He sips his drink to fuel his confidence and prepares himself to make a good first impression.

"Wow. You girls look amazing!" Han says out of wonder, not hesitating to let his thoughts out.

He hates to see women objectively but it's hard not to. Not when they're dressed in something that leaves so little to the imagination.

"We can say the same about you," The taller one says, talking as if she's half moaning.

"I'm Mikaela," she introduces herself, not hesitating to pull him into a hug.

Mikaela has shiny dark hair, plump lips, and a height he doesn't have, yet it's not going to stop him from pursuing her.

But it's too early to settle down yet. He turns to the other girl who's more his height and gives her a quick hug.

"I'm Han," he introduces his name first.

"I'm Nya," she replies.

Nya's brown skin glows under the sun and when she smiles, she shows her perfect white teeth.

"Can we drink this?" She asks in a thick British accent.

Stunned by how attractive the girls are, Han forgets about making a good, first impression. He hurriedly hands the drinks over to the girls and proposes a toast.

They're clinking their glasses against each other and take a sip at the same time.

"So, Han, what is your type?" Mikaela asks.

It may seem like a harmless question but it's actually not, she wants him to choose between the two of them. He needs to be careful with what he says if he wants to please them.

"I don't really have a type... but uh... I like eyes, gorgeous eyes," he says.

They nod at you, not quite figuring out what he says by that. He comes up with something to amuse them both, "I like a gorgeous smile too and you both have that."

That works wonderfully as they're smiling and laughing at his answer.

"Cheers to that!" Mikaela says, clinking her glass with his.

"I think the three of us can do something while we wait for the others," Nya suggests an idea.

An idea that gives Han a glimpse of what her personality is. Don't get him wrong, he likes girls who know how to have fun, he just doesn't expect it coming from Nya.

"Yeah? What do you have in mind?" Han playfully dares her.

Nya sips her drink to avoid answering his question then breaks into a series of giggles.

Sadly, the threesome must end as the second male guest enters the villa.

Han would be lying if he said he was not the slightest bit intimidated. Not only he doesn't have his height, but he also doesn't have that Greek God-like body and facial hair that enhances his masculinity.

"How are you doing, man?" He asks Han who's gobsmacked by how tall he is as he stands next to him.

"Good, good," he answers, exchanging a quick hug with him.

He can see honey dripping from Nya's eyes as she looks at the new guy, "What is your name?"

"Rio," he answers.

"Where are you from, Rio?" Mikaela asks, holding her glass close to her lips.

"I'm from Brazil," he answers, taking a drink for himself.

Mikaela giggles even though there's nothing funny about what he says. She fixes her hair as she says, "Rio, you are so gorgeous."

It feels like Han has become invisible to everyone. He quietly sips his drink and tries not to despair. There are more to come and who knows? He'll find someone more suitable to him, more of his type.

Han has to be patient as two more male guests enter the villa, successfully making his confidence shrink.

He bursts into laughter as he's standing between Peyton and Finn like two gorgeous, white pillars of a Greek temple.

And as if that's not enough, the female guest who just entered is also tall.

"Fuck. I'm so small, it's a joke," he says, trying to lighten up his mood by making a fool out of himself.

The boys around him laugh at his joke and almost miss out on the new girl's introduction.

"I'm Sawyer," she says with a cute smile.

"So, Sawyer, what is your type?" Nya asks, going straight to the point.

Han stands up straight and funnily, the other guys are lining up so Sawyer can take a good look at them. He stands on his tiptoes to match the other's heights, earning good laughs from the girls.

"Well, let's say I'm looking more into their personality..." her answer gets cut off as the last male guest enters the scene.

He looks like a textbook bad boy with long, brown hair and tattoos on his body, he has that smoldering eyes that certainly does thing to the girls as he takes all of their attention away.

Confidently, he walks around introducing himself to the girls, kissing them on the cheeks, and keeps his introduction short by only telling his name, "Asher."

So far, no one has caught his eyes or struck his fancy, he doesn't find the sparks he usually gets when he sees someone he likes.

He can only hold onto the hope that he'll find what he's looking for on the last two female guests.

On the other hand, he can't help but expect disappointment and...

"Oh, they're too fit!" Sawyer cutely gasps.

Han glances up from his drink to see what she's fussing about and the boys are howling in reaction to girls walking into the villa.

-

HAN: Oh, we're so spoiled for choice [laughs]

-

It's kind of unfair that they make you enter the villa with someone as gorgeous as Avery.

Except for the dark brown, she looks like the Malibu Barbie. She has perfect skin, that hourglass body figure, and a nice smile. Meanwhile, you look like a long-forgotten, doodled-on Barbie with tattoos scattered across your body.

"Are you nervous?" She asks with an Australian accent.

She looks so cute as she nervously giggles, "Not really," you answer.

It's everyone there who should be nervous because they haven't seen her. You're not jealous, if anything, you want to date her for yourself.

"Should we hold hands?" She offers her hand to you.

You look around at the staff preparing your entrance to the villa, "I'm not sure..."

Your words are trailing off as the staff gives the cute for both of you to start walking into the villa.

To your surprise, you don't feel nervous at all. You feel excited to meet a lot more attractive people and can't wait to know them.

You turn your head and see Avery, looking not as nervous as she seemed to be earlier.

She looks gorgeous with the sun hits her eyes, showing off her beautiful green eyes with a tint of brown in the middle.

It's kind of expected that she's catching all the attention and the boys seem to be curious about Avery that they just can't take their eyes off of her.

"I'm Avery, hi," she introduces herself.

She makes eyes with everyone and Han returns the eye contact with a wide smile on his face.

"Do you fancy anyone, Avery?" Nya asks, being the one that leads the conversation again.

Avery looks at the boys with a smile dancing on her face, Sligh nodding when her eyes hover between Han and Asher.

"Yeah..." she answers then looks away to sip her drink.

"And how about you?" Nya asks.

Everyone turns their attention to you as you quietly grab a drink for yourself. You hold your drink in your hand as you answer, "Honestly, I fancy everyone here."

You look at Nya and continue talking, "I go both ways so bring 'em all in, I guess?" you say with a sly smirk.

Nya seems amused by your answer, "I like that, girl!" She says, clinking her glass with you after.

"Please, save some for us," Rio playfully says.

You nonchalantly shrug and say, "I don't mind sharing."

You secretly steal a few glances at the guy who's been eyeing Avery the second she came into the villa. He looks so cute and cute guys are your weaknesses.

-

YOU: Hi, nice to meet you. I'm— [holds up hand] that sounds so lame, let me do it again! [Laughs] Hey, what's up? It's your girl [blows kisses] I like to keep a low profile. When I see someone I like, I just give them the eyes and they'll get it [Winks] I have standards, of course. But at the end of the day, I have the worst criteria [laughs]

-

The girls are cheering in excitement as they're the first to enter the bedroom.

There are five beds and ten people in here which means everyone has to pair up. The options are still wide open even though he sees Avery sitting on the bed with Asher.

He's half-heartedly listening to the conversation happening in the room as everyone is asking each other about their profession.

He sits on the bed to engage in the conversation as Peyton just told everyone that he works as a model which explains his perfect figure.

"What about you?" Peyton turns to Avery.

She tips her head to the side and it's so adorable of her "Why don't you guess?" 

"I think you model too," Finn guesses.

She surprisingly shakes her head, "No, I'm a singer," she says.

Han finds the opportunity to inject himself into the conversation.

"Oh, me too!" He says with such enthusiasm.

"Yeah?" Avery asks.

Han eagerly nods, especially now he has her attention, "What's your sign?"

"I'm a Pisces," she answers.

It's obvious that he can't match his star sign with hers but he won't let it get in his way, "My moon is in Pisces!" He says with a gasp.

"We have a lot of commons," he says, holding both his hands up for a double high-five with her.

"I think we should kiss," Han shamelessly adds.

Avery bursts into laughter hearing Han's proposition but to his surprise, she says, "Just a peck then."

She gets up from the bed and meets Han in the middle, their lips meet for a mere second until Avery breaks the kiss. There are various reactions from everyone but Han notices a few jealous eyes in a few of them. His way of flirting may seem random and a bit silly but hey, it works!

-

HAN: I'm feeling two or three of them but Avery... [whistles] Great body, great smile.

-

It seems like Han is not the only one who has the hots for Avery.

As he chats with Rio with his legs dipped in the swimming pool, he sees that Asher pulls her aside, talking on the wooden chair that overlooks the sea.

He turns at Rio and playfully asks, "What do you think he's saying?"

Rio lets out a chuckle and shrugs, "He's probably saying 'you're the most beautiful girl' and stuff like that," he replies.

Han chuckles at that as he keeps watching the two of them talking. He must admit that Asher wins on visual but it's not a guarantee that he'll be able to win her over with just his look.

Also, he already bagged a peck from Avery.

"How about you? Mikaela, huh?" Han says, guessing that Rio has his eyes on the beautiful, dark-haired girl.

Rio leans with his hands propped behind him and softly laughs, "She's got a banging, banging body," he says the word twice to emphasize how hot she is.

"I think I'll give it a shot, you know, and see what she's saying," Rio concludes.

Well, if he were Rio, he wouldn't worry about not getting a girl. He could only wish to have his sculpted body and he is indeed envious of him for it.

"Finn is going for Avery too," Rio informs.

"Yeah?" He asks with a painful laugh.

Rio laughs while brushing his dark curls to the back, "All I can say to you is best of luck," he says with a sly smile.

Well, the fact that he has competitions only means that Avery is that girl.

-

HAN: There's a competition going on for Avery [laughs] Well, I say let the games begin [rubs hands together]

-

This show is called Party in Paradise for a reason.

Everyone is so revved up and ready for the first party in the villa. The boys are already gathered at the beach, taking a glass of cocktail and making a toast.

"I saw my boy Peyton made his move earlier with Nya," Asher says.

"What?" Han asks in disbelief, completely clueless about it.

Peyton sips his drink with a bragging smirk plastered on his face, "It was nice, it was nice," he coyly responds to that.

"Are you trying to one me up or what?" Han jokes.

He swallows his drink before replying, "Something is going to happen tonight," he cryptically says.

Everyone raises their glasses in the air for another toast and Han wants to keep his focus sharp so he's only taking little sips of it.

Not long after, the girls are coming and dressed stunningly, carefully walking down the steps that lead to the beach. All of them look beautiful in their own way but Avery is exceptionally gorgeous to him.

-

HAN: I need to make a move on Avery. I need to make a progress.

-

The first round of drinks has been drained and everyone moved on to the next round right away. Music is blasting, sending everyone to start moving their bodies to the upbeat music.

Everyone is having fun and getting to know each other with every sip of drink, dancing with each other, not caring that the cameras are filming everything.

You've been instructed to take the lead on the first quest since everyone will take their turn anyway, you've been briefed on everything about the first quest.

When the music abruptly stops, you take it as your cue to take control of the show.

"You guys, I've been tasked to lead the first quest and..." you look at them to build anticipation.

"Don't worry, it's a fun quest!" You assure them, allowing them to stay loosen up.

You grab an eye mask that has been prepared by the staff and show it to everyone, "Each one of you will take turns to stand here," you pointed to the marked spot with a foam mat.

"And you'll put this on," you show them the eye mask again.

You take a few seconds of pause before letting them know the most fun part of it, "And any of you can come to kiss, lick, taste, bite, anything..."

You look at them and emphasize the word again, "Anything!"

Everyone is cheering in reaction, given the chance to do whatever they want to the person they fancy. You can expect a lot of lips locking and fondling in a few minutes.

"Don't get excited yet!" You put a halt to the pheromones you're spreading through your words.

You slyly smile, enjoying the little piece of authority you have over the show.

"The quest is, you have to guess who does what to you and whoever with the most correct answers," you turn around to show them the mysterious box behind you.

You step aside so everyone can look, "You'll get to open the mystery box!"

That earns a wave of applause from them, gets them wondering what's inside the box, and is determined to win the quest.

"Sadly, I don't know what's inside the box," you hurriedly tell them before they get suspicious that you know more than them.

You look around to spot any exciting person to kickstart the game. You notice that Mikaela seems eager to get something out of Rio.

"Mikaela, will you do the honor to be the first?"

She smiles brightly and confidently steps forward, squealing in excitement. You help put the eye mask on without ruining her styled hair and take a step back.

"You ready?" You ask her.

She wriggles her body, "I'm ready!"

Don't want to waste the chance, you steal a quick peck on her lips and earn a surprise gasp from some people.

"That's you!" Mikaela easily guesses.

You walk back to your seat while laughing and see that Rio is also taking his turn after you.

-

YOU: I got my make-up on, I did my hair and I'm... going to get a kiss from everyone [laughs] 

-

Peyton stirs a little chaos as he kisses Sawyer and it's not hard to see a displease look on Nya's face after, probably for the rest of the night too.

The time finally comes to Avery's turn. She carefully covers her eyes with the eye mask and with a smile, she makes gestures with her hands.

"Come and get it," she says, swinging her hips side to side.

Han wastes not another second to sprint to her and lands the first kiss on her lips. He gives everything he has to offer, kissing her with the skill he honed from years of experience and putting all of himself into this one kiss.

A kiss that he hoped would be enough to enchant her and put her under his spell.

Han slowly pulls away as his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, gasping as he looks at Avery's face.

"We share another common thing," he says.

"Huh? What?" Avery asks, still disoriented from the kiss.

"We're both great kissers," he answers.

Avery covers her mouth as she breaks into laughter and as soon as Han leaves his spot, Finn takes his turn to kiss her and he has to watch it.

"Oh, this is mad!" Rio comments while elbowing his sides next to him.

And right after that, Asher takes the next turn and kisses Avery, getting mixed reactions from everyone. That's probably because she gets the most kisses so far.

Avery takes off her eye mask and wipes her lips, trying to clean her smudged lipstick.

"Can you guess, Avery baby?" Nya asks.

She looks in his direction to get any clues on the person who kissed her.

"The first kiss is you," she easily guesses, using both hands to point at him.

Han is inexplicably proud of her for guessing right, he believes the peck helped her to identify his kiss.

"The second one is... uhm..." she bites her finger as she thinks.

She then scrunches her nose and doing it so adorably, "I think it's Finn?"

"And the last one?" You ask.

"That's Asher," she shortly answers, not having the slightest doubt in it.

Han looks at Asher who is nodding along, feeling cocky that Avery recognized his kiss. It seems like the competition has started for real.

-

HAN: The competition is... real mad! [laughs]

-

It's his turn now.

Han drains his drink that he's been sipping little by little and he needs every drop of courage to ready himself for it. When he looks at the other boys, they seem to have it easy because they're undeniably attractive and he feels slightly scared that the other will treat him differently because he's less attractive than the other.

Well, he should mainly focus on the keyword: attractive.

Han is attractive nonetheless.

The layer of anxiety is safely hidden behind his playful smirk as he takes his stand and covers his eyes with the eye mask. He licks his lips and slyly smiles as he says, "Come on! Daddy's home!"

Even though the possibility is close to zero percent, he badly wishes that he could get a kiss from Avery. He laughs as he remembers that he shouldn't take this too seriously, he's here to have fun, it's Party in Paradise.

He can hear the girls giggling and the boys cooing, he takes that as a sign that someone is approaching him. He swallows air as his heart is pitter-pattering and his chest filled with anticipation.

He's seen the other boys take their turn and everyone at least gets a smooch so he stands there expecting one as well.

Instead of that, he feels a kiss on his neck. He shouldn't feel disappointed but he can't help it. He focuses on trying to guess who it is.

Before getting his answer, he hears everyone cooing again and a few light claps.

He anticipates it and this time he believes that he'll get a kiss on the lips.

He indeed gets a kiss but not from one. He feels two pairs of lips kissing him at once and he doesn't mind it at all. It surprises him that he can only let them kiss him.

It's incredibly soft and warm, a little wet. He feels a few licks in here and there.

Too bad that he can't see it but it makes him visualize it in his head, him making out with these two girls, and fuck, it's so hot it gets him so horny.

He doesn't want to guess anymore, he keeps wanting to kiss them because they're both good at it, they know how to use their tongues, and makes him feel a bit lightheaded.

Someone pulls away first and he can hear her softly gasping while the other is still kissing him, taking a bit of his lower lip before letting it go.

Han hears another series of giggles but the sounds are fading, the girls are probably walking back to their seats. He takes a minute to compose himself, then takes off his eye mask.

The first thing he does to get his vision back is look at girls to scan any guilty faces. He can easily guess the one who kisses his neck.

"The one who kissed my neck is..." he points his finger at Sawyer and she reacts with blushed cheeks and a shy laugh, which proves that he's right.

This is where it gets tricky, he was enjoying every bit of that sexy makeout to try to guess who are they. He looks at the girls and they're giving him vague signs.

Sawyer is out of options and he knows Mikaela has no interest in him. That leaves you, Nya, and Avery.

As much as he wants to believe that it's Avery, he doesn't want to make it obvious to her. So he settles on you and Nya.

"Nah, you're wrong," Nya tells him.

His eyes widen in shock and he doesn't want to get over his head but is it possible that one of them is Avery?

He walks back to his seat with a dreading curiosity, "Who was it?"

Rio playfully punches his arm, "It's those girls!"

His eyes follow the direction of Rio's hand and he's even more surprised to know that he's right.

It's you and Avery.

-

HAN: I don't know what else to say [shrugs] I made out with the two hottest girls in the villa [smirks]

-

Not trying to compete with the other three boys but you're sure that the last person that kissed you is Avery.

"I know it's you," you point at her.

Avery may look like an angel, she walks and talks like an angel but she has the devil inside of her. You know that she's just like you, she's all about the vibe and having fun. You believe you would be good friends with her.

"I would be sad if you guessed it wrong," she says.

"I know," you coyly answer.

The game ends with you and it's time to announce the winner of the quest. It's an easy call because the one with the most correct guesses is none other than Avery.

"Come up here!" You order.

She gets up from her chair and walks up to you, leading her to the mystery box as she's the winner which earned her the chance to be the one opening it.

"I've been told that the content of this box will truly change this trip into an experience you won't forget," you inform everyone.

Avery gives you a nervous look as she grips the handle on the lid of the box.

"Are guys ready?" You ask everyone to keep the tension.

"Yeah!" They answer in unison.

You look at Avery and nod, "There's no turning back once you open it!"

You jokingly say that to scare her before walking back to your seat and joining everyone else as anticipation mounts in each passing second.

Avery looks at everyone and squints her eyes, "Count with me, please!"

Everyone agrees to start counting down together, "3..."

Avery decides to stand behind the box and holds the handle of the box again.

"2..."

You wonder what's inside the box, it looks small from where you're sitting but you have seen it up close, it could fit anything and it could be anything inside.

"1..."

Avery closes her eyes as she lifts the lid and the box unfolds on every side, exposing the content to everyone's watching.

You don't want to believe what you're seeing but then it chimes.

"Oh... fuck!" You curse out loud and you're not the only one doing so.

-

YOU: Are you joking?

-

"What is it?" Avery asks as she hasn't opened her eyes yet.

She then puts the lid away and sees what everyone is seeing, the cone that lights up in purple-hued colors.

"What is that?" She cluelessly asks.

"That's Lana!" Nya screams with a strained voice.

"That's fucking Lana!" She says again with a doomed expression.

Avery's eyes widen in horror and she drags herself back to sit, wedging herself between you and Mikaela.

You guess everyone is just in shock about the sudden turn of events and that everyone is trapped in her show. You hate that you know what's coming for you.

"This is Too Hot To Handle," Lana announces, telling everyone that she is running this show from the very beginning.

"You have been specially selected because you are all choosing meaningless sex over genuine relationships."

"Guilty!" Asher says with a hand raised like he's in a classroom.

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper emotional connections in your personal relationships."

Avery drops her head on your shoulder and grumbles, "I don't want that, Lana."

You put your hand around her, feeling what she's feeling: betrayal and devastation.

"As always, there are conditions to your stay here. You must abstain from sexual practices for the entirety of your stay."

You close your eyes and try to take the first bitter pill, swallowing it dry, and pushing it as far down as you can.

"Are you jok—" Mikaela can't even finish her sentence.

"No kissing."

"What?" Avery gasps in disbelief.

"No heavy petting."

Mikaela sighs, running her hand to her hair and ruining her hairstyle altogether.

"And no sex of any kind."

That earns a lot of gasp from everyone and there goes down the biggest, most bitter pill you have to take.

"This also applies to self-gratification."

Mikaela sighs again while Nya squeals in both pain and amusement.

"What does it mean?" Sawyer innocently asks.

"You can't masturbate, babe," Avery answers her question with a pout.

"At all?" She asks again to confirm her fear.

So they threw a bunch of hot people into a villa and tricked them into thinking that they would be partying and having fun only to reveal that they're not allowed to have any physical contact? What in the 21st century way of torture is this?

-

YOU: There goes my plan to kiss everyone... I was planning to get a taste here and there and now it's like... No [sighs]

-

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

Everyone's eyes turn green at the mention of money and the amount of it, also at the promise that they can win it.

"I'm a college student. I need that!" Finn comments from the end of the bench.

"Each time the rules are broken, money will be deducted from the prize fund."

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy to win that much money and now it looks like everyone would be leaving with nothing.

But with the rules are set and the prize is announced, the game gets serious now.

"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer," Lana finishes with the gloom casting on those words.

"Everyone gets ready now 'cause it's not Party in Paradise anymore," Nya reminds everyone with the harsh truth.

"It's hell now," Mikaela eggs in.

Han personally thinks this is worse than hell. Because at least in hell, he'd be allowed to get horny.

-

HAN: $200,000... That's a lot of money... to spend [smirks]

-

"Please, can we not?"

The last thing you want to hear is everyone complaining about the rules again and it's only dragging you down more than you allowed it to.

"I'm just upset..." Mikaela says as she takes off her earrings and puts them into a jewelry box.

"I know," you sigh, tossing your shoes into the bottom shelf of your closet.

It takes you a long time to get ready for bed but it's most likely because the girls are chatting and you can't help but join in. Trying to keep yourself away from sex is hard but being able to talk about it is what makes it bearable.

You and Avery walk to the bedroom with arms linked, you just know you'll be friends by how you identify a few traits of yours in her.

The boys are already taking their territory except for Finn, you know he's still in the dresser room. You're fine sharing a bed with anyone but you try not to make drama by getting on a bed with someone's person of interest.

Since Avery is the hot commodity, you make her choose where she'll sleep tonight.

"So, Avery, what's the bed situation?" You ask her.

A few pairs of ears perk up hearing the question and you notice that the three men competing are watching as Avery is making a decision.

She walks up to the bed in the middle, "I'll sleep here."

Asher triumphantly smiles as Avery climbs onto his bed and gets under the cover next to him.

Now that she has settled on a man, you can choose your bed partner at ease. Rio is off-limits unless you want to face Mikaela's wrath and Peyton is also out of the question, you don't want to mess with Nya.

You walk over to Han's bed and you kind of like the vibe he's giving you, you know he's into Avery but it's not like he has much of options, it's either you and Sawyer.

"Want to share a bed?" You ask.

Han glances at you and without answering, makes a space on the bed for you. He seems to take an interest in the tattoos inked your body and he notices that you're watching.

"How many tattoos do you have?" He asks.

You lean against the pillow stacked behind you, "Uhm... I never counted," you reply.

It's amusing to see the wonder in his eyes as he's looking at your tattoos, making you feel like teasing him.

"How about I get naked and you can count my tattoos for me?"

He blinks his eyes at you, "I can promise you I'll do well at that," he says.

You chuckle at his witty answer and outstretched your arms to showcase the small tattoos on both of your arms.

He turns on the bed to lay on his side facing you, "Which one is your favorite?"

You take a few seconds to think of an answer, "I think it's the one on my spine."

You take all of your hair to one shoulder before turning your back at him, to show him the tattoo you're talking about.

His finger pulls down the silk camisole you're wearing so he can take a better look at it.

"Yeah, that's nice," he agrees with you.

You lean back on your pillow again and look at him, "How about you? Do you have any favorite yet?" You playfully ask.

He slyly smiles even before he begins talking, "Well, I believe there are tattoos that I have not yet seen," he says with one eyebrow slightly raised higher than the other.

Han knows how to amuse you, he's attractive in a different way than the other guys. It makes you want to tease him more.

"You mean like this one?" You lift the front of your camisole to show him the tattoo you have under your left breast.

He almost chokes on air as he breaks into laughter, "That could be my favorite," he says.

You nod and laugh along with him, "I'll show you more but I'm afraid we have to wait for third base," you jokingly say.

That amuses him so much, he collapses on his side of the bed and covers his eyes as he laughs. He has that laugh that only enhances the hilarity and you can't help to laugh along.

-

YOU: Han is cute, yeah, I think we'll get on well.

-

The lights are on and Han would still be sleeping if you didn't shift on the bed to take your water tumbler from the bedside table.

As everyone is slowly getting up and dragging themselves out of slumber, Lana's chime startles everyone.

"Oh, it wasn't a dream," Nya groans from the next bed to his.

Yeah, right, Han forgot about the sex ban until that cone lights up on top of the small glass table in the middle of the room.

"Good morning, everyone!" Lana greets.

Han props a pillow behind his head and you take his arm out so you can rest your head on it.

"Morning, hon!" You sleepily reply.

"I'd like to remind you that you're in a retreat but I do hope you enjoy your summer of sun, sea, and no sex," Lana concludes her morning greeting, leaving everyone with the awakening truth that they're not allowed to touch each other.

Han looks over to Avery's bed and wonders how is he going to make a move on her with Lana cockblocking him?

"Right. I'm going back to sleep," you grumble, closing your eyes and nuzzling your head in his neck.

Han slips his hand in your hair, playing with it as he's listening to the talk happening in the room.

"Is anyone still pissed off?" Nya asks everyone how they feel.

Peyton is the first one to raise his hand and Mikaela adds her opinion on the matter, "I think it's impossible to connect with someone without touching them, don't you think?"

Han is too busy thinking of his game plan now that the competition is getting tough and Asher is a point ahead of him.

"I think we need to tell each other if someone is—" Sawyer's words got cut off by Asher.

"At the end of the day, just don't lie," Asher remarks.

Han turns his head to the side only to bury his nose in your hair, catching the scent of your shampoo.

"Your hair smells so good," he says to you.

You hum with your eyes still closed and splayed your hand on his chest, "And you have nice pecs."

You both softly laugh at the compliments you give each other.

Last night, you both fell asleep after having a chat about random things, getting to know each other with jokes slipped in between.

Han must say that he likes you, you're fun to be around and you don't take things seriously. But then again, his eyes are on Avery.

-

HAN: I woke up next to her and it was great, I like her but... I like Avery more.

-

After taking a quick dip in the beach, you're walking past the boys who are working out on the way back to the villa.

"Looking good wet," Asher teases you with a lopsided grin on his face.

Too bad you're immune to sweet nothings like that, you flash him a smile and keep climbing the stairs back to the villa.

The other girls are already done with their make-up and leaving the dressing room empty, allowing you to get ready in peace.

In the middle of doing your hair, Nya enters the room and takes a seat next to you.

"What's up, hottie?" You ask while looking in the mirror to make sure you don't burn your scalp with the straightening iron.

Nya grabs her make-up pouch from the other side of the vanity table and takes out a brush. She seems to have something to say to you but hesitates to tell you.

After a while, she finally confesses, "Peyton and I, we kissed last night."

You're more shocked by the fact that she shares this with you rather than the kiss itself. They're horny for each other, it's only about time that they rule break.

You softly chuckle and gently comb your hair with your fingers, "How many times?"

"Just once," she answers while applying makeup on her cheeks.

"I'm impressed!" You playfully respond.

Nya chuckles at that and swivels her chair to face you, "What do you think? Is it three grand? For a kiss?" She asks with a nervous smile.

You put down the straightening iron and lean back on your chair, "I think so, yeah."

Nya takes lipstick out of her pouch next, "I didn't give a fuck at that moment," she says.

From your observation, Nya indeed doesn't give a fuck about the rules. She broke them hours after Lana put on the sex ban and you believe she wouldn't stop there.

"You saw how he kissed me last night during the game and I was a bit horny that we're sharing the bed..." she stops talking as she breaks into breathless chuckles.

"So, Peyton, huh?"

"Well, yeah, once I set my eyes on someone, I will get them," Nya remarks, affirming her strong personality.

"Sorry not sorry, Sawyer," she adds and couldn't care less about anyone else.

Which reminds you to never get on her bad side. You continue styling your hair while keeping the conversation going.

"Yeah, I think you guys are so cute," you comment even though you're not sure that Peyton will make a loyal partner considering that he kissed another girl right in front of her.

"What about you? How are you feeling?" She asks.

This is a dating show and you're well aware that you should get a partner to make this work but no one really tugs at your heartstrings.

Well, there is Han but he's certainly not available to you.

"I came to meet people and have fun, that's what I'm here for," you settle on a simple answer because you have no idea what you can do without a partner in this show.

"Yeah, yeah," Nya half-heartedly responds, "but who are you feeling?"

You must take another pause on doing your hair, "I like Han, he's cute. I like cute guys," you honestly answer.

Nya smiles listening to you talking, "He is. He is cute."

"But I think he's into Avery," you add, not letting her encourage you to pursue him.

Nya nods, getting the gist of it since it's obvious that Avery is the most popular girl in the retreat. She swipes her full lips with nude-colored lipstick and smacks her lips together.

"Once they know about the kiss, we're going to get hated," Nya once again worries about what would happen when Lana announces the infraction they've done last night.

"I think you should just... own up to it," you suggest.

Honest is the best policy and also, you think people will be less upset if they admit their mistake right away.

-

YOU: Knowing that someone already broke the rules. It's only about time that someone else starts doing it too.

-

Han has just come out of the shower when Lana calls everyone to the cabana.

He combs his wet hair fast and walks with Finn to where everyone has gathered, sitting on the curved sofa facing the cone-shaped lady.

He squeezes himself between you and Sawyer, putting his arm on the headrest of the sofa as he waits for Lana to come online.

You look over your shoulder at him, "You smell nice."

"I showered," he simply answers with a sly grin on his face.

"That changes everything," you joke, then rest your head on his shoulder,

The cone lights up followed by the melodic chime that he should get used to hearing it. There must be a reason why everyone is called to the cabana, someone must have done something.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana begins.

"Hey, Lana," he replies, suddenly feeling nervous even though he hasn't done anything yet.

"The rules of my retreat have already been broken."

Everyone collectively gasps at that announcement and this is where they get suspicious of each other.

"Oh, no..." Sawyer sighs.

Finn sits on the edge of the sofa and clasps his hands together in front of him, "Anybody wants to come clean?" He asks.

Han gets the feeling that Finn would play the good cop here and he also senses that you know something, "Did we kiss in our sleep or what?"

"If that's the case, I wouldn't stop at kissing," you joke back at him with a gentle slap on his forearm.

Unexpectedly, what you said makes him flutter inside, he almost forgot that someone broke the rules and possibly, it involves Avery.

"I'm so confused," Sawyer says as if it's a math problem that she needs to solve.

No one wants to come forward and it creates animosity in the air. He doesn't like what this leads to, he hopes that someone comes forward so things won't get ugly.

"Who's guilty?" He throws the question in with his eyes uneasily glancing in Avery's direction.

"I thought we were going to be truthful with each other," Finn reminds everyone about the unwritten rules they made this morning.

The calm on Nya's face shatters as Rio says, "You're looking real guilty right now, Nya."

"Yeah, okay, it was me," she finally confesses.

Nya tips her head to the side then looks at Peyton, "Peyton and I kissed."

Han glares at Peyton, he expects that at least he would man up and own up to it. But Han feels a relief knowing that it wasn't Avery.

"This breach of rules has cost the group $3,000," Lana announces.

Oh? Three thousand dollars? For a kiss? That's a surprise but still, he would spend that much for a kiss with Avery.

"The prize fund now stands at $197,000," Lana updates.

"I'm so vexed, you know," Finn says, being the only one who is genuinely upset about losing money.

While the others... the others seem to have waited for someone to break the wave so they can start to rule break too.

And that includes him.

-

HAN: Best believe if anybody is going to rule break next, it's me [cackles]

-

"Hello, I'm Josh and I'm a professional tantric practitioner," the instructor for today's workshop introduces himself.

Your eyebrow raises in intrigue at the mention of the word 'tantric' and how it would help everyone to not think about sex.

"Tantric? What is that?" Sawyer naively asks next to you.

"Just listen to the instructor," you tell her with a pat on her shoulder.

"Usually, when we relate to other people, everything is fast, right?" Josh says.

You nod in agreement while shielding your eyes from the bright sun.

"Someone touches you, you touch them back. You kiss this person, they kiss you back but we don't feel it," he eloquently explains while walking around and making eye contact with everyone.

"That's what this workshop is for. For you to learn how to feel your body," he further explains.

He walks back to the middle and looks at everyone, "Pleasure is not in the other. Pleasure is in yourself."

Then Josh orders everyone to gather in the middle as he explains what we're going to do next. He holds a tray full of blindfolds for everyone.

"Usually, people relate tantra to sexuality. But that's just a really small part. Every aspect of you can benefit from increased awareness," Josh informs.

He then offers the tray to Asher who stands close to him, ordering him to get one.

"So we're going to broaden the awareness of our vision, of our breathing, our sounds, our movements..."

You put the blindfold on and tie it around your head, putting you in total blindness.

"We put the blindfolds on so the experience can just be your experience," he concludes before starting the session.

Josh instructs everyone to move their bodies, walk around, and eventually bump into each other's bodies. You get goosebumps when your body crashes with someone, you can feel their heat and feel them skin-to-skin.

Then Josh orders everyone to take a step back and blindly, get a partner to do the next session.

You catch the person that you inexplicably guess is standing in front of you and holding him.

"Oh, I found one!" You reflexively say.

Your partner chuckles at that and from the laugh, you can tell who it is.

"Got you," you tell him with a grin.

"Okay, now, breathe..." Josh instructed, "Breathe her in. Breathe him in."

You slip your hands under and around his waist while he places his hands on your back, also holding you back.

You lean your head forward and meet his head in the middle, ending up putting our heads together. This way you can feel his breath on you and every subtle sound he makes.

"It's time to reveal who your partner was," Josh finally allows everyone to take their blindfolds off.

You untie it on the back of your head and burst into laughs the moment your eyes meet.

-

YOU: I just can tell who it is the moment we touch [laughs]

-

"These emotional processes happen but they can only be experienced if you're present."

Now that everyone has partnered up, each pair takes a seat on the mat and sits facing each other. As Han puts his legs on each side of you, you decide to put your legs over his.

"You can get back to your connection through the eyes," Josh continues.

You both can't stop laughing at each other and the longer you maintain eye contact with him, the more you can't stop yourself from laughing.

"Don't lose her. Don't lose him."

"I think it would be better if we close our eyes," you suggest, holding his hands in substitute of that and pressing your heads together.

"Tantra is a way of connecting with your essence. With your feelings."

And you focus on doing what Josh told you to do, focusing on your breathing to be able to intensely feel things with your senses.

"Deep breathe, not deep penetration," Han reminds you.

Once again, you fail to keep your composure and break into a wave of laughter.

"Now, lie down. It's time for you to feel your whole body vibration."

You both lie down facing against each other with your legs still around him and he places his hand on your shin, softly rubbing the skin with his thumb.

"One must learn to connect deeply with oneself. That's tantra. A way through which you can truly connect with yourself."

Maybe because you let yourself open to it, you can feel that connection, it's as if your body is one with earth. You can feel the ground beneath, you can hear the waves crashing and the warmth of the afternoon sun on your skin.

"Now you can sit up," Josh orders.

You slowly open your eyes and sit up, meeting Han's eyes again but this time, you smile at him.

"That was good," you mutter to him.

"Right?" He agrees with you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and continue to sit close facing each other, feeling each other's bodies in a whole new way.

Josh finishes the workshop with one last instruction: a group hug.

-

YOU: I think I learned how to get to know myself better and to not hold in what I really feel [smiles]

-

"You all look so sexy!"

You compliment everyone who's getting ready in the dressing room while searching for someone. Avery gleefully smiles at your compliment.

"You look good in those sexy jeans!"

It sounds like she's making fun of it and you look down to check if you look okay in what you're wearing, "Am I underdressed?"

"No. Your butt looks cute in it," Avery assures you with a playful slap on your clothed ass.

To make room for everyone else who hasn't gotten ready yet, you move to the bedroom and find the one you're looking for. Han is sitting on the bed already dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt with the top three buttons left open.

After the workshop, you feel somehow closer to him and you get along really well, you wonder if it could be more.

"Hiya, sexy!" You greet him.

Han glances up and pats the space on the bed, gesturing for you to sit next to him.

"How are you?" He asks.

"Good. You?" You ask back while sitting down and propping a hand against the bed.

"I'm good, thanks," he answers with a smile.

There's no one else in the bedroom and you take it as an opportunity to ask him about something.

"So, where's your head at?" You ask.

Han puts his hand under his head and simply says, "It's right here."

You chuckle and tip your head to the side, "I mean... who do you like in here?"

He takes a moment to take a deep breath and you guess picking his words carefully before answering you, "I think I get on really well with you," he begins.

And it's good to know that he feels the same way about it.

"But I'm more attracted to Avery," he adds, not even hesitating to tell you about it.

Well, it's also good to know that he can openly and comfortably share things with you.

"Yeah," you say, expecting that answer already.

Yet you can't quite hide your disappointment, you look away and pretend to fix your hair. That's just him basically saying that you have a great personality but that's not enough to attract him.

"As you know the three of us are pursuing Avery and we don't know which one she likes..." he says while rubbing his chin.

Instead of being salty about it, you decide to be a friend to him and give him your opinion.

"I think if you like someone, you go for it. There's no time to waste, just go and get it," you encourage while mindlessly running your hand on the bedsheet.

"Yeah," Han's head bobbing in agreement.

"You should talk to Avery and see how she feels about you," you add.

It is obvious that Han likes Avery but he's playing the cool guy trick by thinking that he'll win her over by acting like he doesn't care.

-

YOU: Oh, well... [awkwardly chuckles] I kind of expected that answer.

-

After the workshop, Han realizes that you and he bounce off each other, you're tuned in to the same wave and he agrees that it has the potential to be something more than that.

However, Han feels like he should keep pursuing Avery. Mostly because he's attracted to her, almost magnetic, and the fact that he has competition makes him want her more.

He gets out of the bedroom after knowing that Avery is no longer in the dressing room.

Turns out, Finn is already making his move on her. He sees them talking in the firepit and having a laugh, but he can't hear what they're talking about. Finn shortly leaves after kissing her on the hand.

So he's playing the romantic guy, Han reckons.

Avery once said that he likes bad boys and so he'll be it. Bad boys don't make it obvious that he likes her, they wait until they come around.

So Han decides that should be his game plan, sitting on the sofa and you know, waiting for Avery to come around.

-

HAN: I'm not worried about Asher so my game plan is to play it cool and see where it goes. She'll come to the right man... eventually [laughs]

-

After hours of no significant result, Han walks back inside to get a new place to hang out.

He decides to go to the bedroom, pushing the door with both hands only to walk into Asher and Avery cuddling on the bed.

Now he sees the flaw in his game plan, he slowly walks back out of the room as everything backfired to him.

When it's time for bed, he couldn't be happier.

Han dives into his pillow and takes a deep breath, blowing some steam off.

A moment later, he feels the bed quaking as you get on and playfully, put your body on top of him.

"We're like the twin bar ice cream," He grumbles as your body presses onto him.

His body shakes along with yours as you're laughing on top of him, then rolling yourself to the side and onto the bed next to him.

"How was your night?" You ask, playing with his dark hair.

"Average," he shortly answers.

"I'm asking about your night, not your genital size," you joke.

He chuckles before answering, "Then it's below average."

If there's anyone that makes this retreat bearable to him then it's you. He can share everything with you and what he likes the most about it is that he can seek comfort from you too.

Han scoots closer and puts his hand across your chest which you nicely welcomed. You're caressing his forearm with only your fingertips and it's relaxing him.

When the lights are out, you pull his arm and put it around you as you lie on your side with your back against his chest.

"Goodnight," you murmur.

He hesitates but with his mouth pressed close to you, he decides to kiss you on the top of your head.

"Goodnight," he murmurs back, snuggling his head on the crook of your neck.

-

HAN: I guess nice guys do finish last [laughs]

-

The bathroom is pretty much occupied by the two tall lovebirds, Rio and Mikaela.

You almost walk in on them applying sunblock on each other's bodies and slowly, walking back out of there. Stepping into the dressing room, you find Nya there with Avery who's busy putting her hair into a ponytail.

"Hello, babes," you greet them as you take a seat in your usual spot and decide to put on your sunscreen there when you usually put it on in the bathroom because it can get messy.

Mikaela joins in not long after and sits next to you, fixing her hair with a brush.

"Has anything been going on late at night?" Nya asks her since Mikaela and Rio turned up to their bed late last night.

"We held off pretty well, I guess," Mikaela answers with her half-moaning voice.

"Yeah, but has he been getting hard?" Nya asks again, being nosy as she is.

"We're pretty close," Mikaela answers with a cryptic smile.

You look at her with a dollop of sunscreen on your cheek, "Pretty close? What's that even mean?" You tease.

Before Mikaela can answer that, Lana butts in with her familiar chime, and everyone's heads turn to the cone sitting on the shelf.

"Uh-oh!" You gasp in surprise and awkwardly continue dabbing your cheeks with sunscreen.

"Girls," Lana calls out to everyone in the dressing room.

"Yeah?" Nya replies with a shocked smile.

"Please gather everyone in the bedroom," Lana orders.

You sense that Mikaela did something last night from the horror drawn on her face with her round eyes widening in slight shock.

Nya gets up from her chair but you haven't finished with your sunscreen yet.

"I'll catch up," you tell her.

You put on a sheer top over your bikini before heading to the bedroom and see that everyone is already there including Han.

He holds his hand out for you to take, gesturing for you to sit close to him at the end of your shared bed.

-

YOU: This can't be good news [scrunches nose]

-

Other than Mikaela, you notice another pair of guilty faces. No surprise if Nya broke another rule but also, you kind of guessed that Avery did something too, she keeps shaking her leg uncomfortably.

Lana chimes and the tension is already rising in the room.

"There have been breaches of the rules," Lana goes straight to business.

"Breaches?" Finn focuses on the plural terms that could tell how much money he'll be losing today.

As someone without a partner, you can relax since no one will be suspicious of you. You put your legs over Han's and rest your hand on his shoulder.

Heads are turning against each other but no one is saying anything.

"Mmh..." Avery lets out a low sigh.

You bet she did something and if yes, who did she do it with? You look at Han and wonder if he did what you told him to just go and get her.

"I'll be honest with you guys..." Asher speaks up.

There goes your answer. Avery did kiss but it's with Asher and you don't know why you feel some sort of relief on knowing it.

"I definitely lost some money last night," he pauses to scratch his head, "I pulled Avery aside and kissed her."

Avery shyly smiles and sputters her apology, "I'm–I am sorry, you guys."

Your eyes silently shift at Han and notice that he's not pleased to hear his love interest got kissed by someone else.

"This is what I wanted and I felt a genuine connection there," Asher adds.

What a way to prove that he wants to delve further into this relationship but Avery doesn't seem to be happy to hear his man declare that she is what he wanted.

"So sorry, guys," Asher concludes.

It would be stupid of you to hope that that's the only kiss that happened last night.

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana says again and she won't stop until everyone comes clean.

You look at Nya and she's not looking at anyone. Peyton seems to have decided to keep denying it and staying quiet about it.

Mikaela sighs then closes her eyes, "Why don't you tell them, Rio," she says to the man next to her.

Rio licks his lips and opens his mouth, but words do not come out of it until a minute later.

"We kissed a couple of times last night," Rio confesses and pinches the bridge of his nose after.

"A couple?" Finn asks for confirmation.

You guess what he needs to know is how many kisses in numbers.

"Five times," Rio answers.

"Oh, my gosh!" Avery sighs while rubbing her temple.

That makes you sweat a little and you take your hand off of Han's shoulder to fiddle with the strap of your bikini, also because you sense that Han gets tensed beside you.

"I mean, I can tolerate one or two kisses but five?" You confront them and keep your tone calm to not trigger anyone.

It's not a genuine connection if you needed five kisses to convince you that you're emotionally connected so yeah, you doubt that Rio and Mikaela have it.

"If you had that genuine connection, what would you do?" Rio says in his defense.

"I don't know, maybe try a bit harder?" Han finally lets out an opinion with an insinuating tone, driven by the slight anger he gets from Avery and Asher's kiss.

"That's just a waste of money," Finn mutters from his bed and a deep sigh.

"Is that all, Lana?" You ask, wanting to get it over with.

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana shares.

You don't even hold yourself back from groaning and rolling your eyes. You didn't plan to get this mad but hearing these people kissing and spending money recklessly ticked you off.

"We'll have no money," Finn mutters again and collapses onto the bed.

"Why are you smiling, Peyton?" Asher asks.

Peyton is indeed smiling and looking calm for a guilty man, "I kissed Nya last night."

Sawyer raises her hand like she's in a classroom but that works to get everyone's attention, "Wait, I'm a little confused about it because you said you were going to pursue things with me," she drops a truth bomb out of nowhere.

Nya turns Peyton around to force him to look at her, "You said to me that you wanted me, not her," she spoils more rotten truth.

This whole thing turns into a she said, he said situation and you can only watch them, going back and forth, pointing fingers at each other.

"I hate being lied to," Sawyer mutters.

Peyton rubs his chin and concludes, "I never lied to you," he says to Sawyer.

Then he turns to Nya and tells her the same thing, "And I never lied to you."

Can't help it, you let out a stifled laugh because Peyton not only digging his own grave but also putting nails on his coffin.

The ones that benefited from this are Rio and Mikaela, the love triangle mess is taking the heat off of them.

"It's obviously not working," Nya ends things for good.

Thankfully, Lana takes control of the situation to deliver the bills.

"All of these rule breaks have made me decide to implement a stricter regime. The fines will now be doubled starting with these rule breaks."

Your jaw drops at the announcement and get dizzy thinking of how much those five kisses cost alone.

"These multiple rule breaks have cost the group $42,000," Lana updates.

You scoff at the amount of money spent on a few silly kisses and have to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.

"The prize fund now stands at $155,000."

Everyone is just as gobsmacked by how much money has been lost from the prize and if everyone keeps doing it, all of you would likely go home with nothing.

-

YOU: We might as well pack our things now and go home [shrugs]

-

A week has passed and you start to feel that you're merely wasting time here.

Not much happened around here especially after Peyton and Nya's ship sank right after that messy fight. In the end, Peyton doesn't get either Nya or Sawyer and he deserves every bit of it.

The retreat is not only about couple growth but still... If only you had someone to try to make a connection with, you would enjoy this whole experience more.

You wake up in the morning, have a few cuddles with Han, and then everyone is moving on with their day. There's not much you can do here but you try to participate as much by not breaking the rules.

As if you have someone to do it with.

Avery joins you as you walk down to the beach to swim at the beach. With the low tide, you can sit on the beach with her to cool down after swimming.

"Avery baby, tell me, how are things with Asher?" You ask out of curiosity.

What Asher did that day, defending her and openly telling everyone how he feels about her, you expect her to be swooned if not smitten.

But from what you've been seeing, it seems like things have cooled down between them.

"To be honest, I don't know..." she is just as confused as you.

"But out of all the three boys, you like him right?" You try to make it simple for her.

"Yeah, I like Asher because he's great, he made the first move and got an edge to him..." she explains.

You nod and support your chin with the back of your hand, "What he did that day, I think that's very endearing of him," you give her your honest opinion just in case she needs an assurance from someone outside that relationship.

"Yeah, he was like... expressed his feelings and telling everyone how he feels about me," Her facial expression gradually turns sour as you sense a 'but' coming from her small mouth.

"But I just don't like when people are like that to me," she says with a repulsed expression.

"I get really..." she ends the sentence with a groan.

The problem with Avery is that she doesn't know what she wants. Other than that, now you know why Asher flirted with you this morning but knowing that he initially likes Avery makes you feel like you're his backup plan.

Here's the thing about you, you don't like being a second choice.

-

YOU: You know what, Lana? I think we need more dicks in the villa [laughs]

-

Han feels like his breakfast is about to come up as he hears the sound of that melodic chime. He hears it often enough yet he feels even more anxious the more he hears it.

"Please be good news," Han mutters next to you.

You put your hand on his thigh, playing with a lint of his swimming trunk.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana greets.

He turns his head at the same time you look at him, sending both of you burst into laughter.

"Here we go," Asher mutters with a nervous sigh.

"To further aid your personal growth, you must learn to resist your urges."

That catches his interest but also makes his heart start to beat faster. Lana is unpredictable and Han hates that.

"I have arranged two dates."

That makes some people relax, at least, it's not about losing more money from the prize fund. Han, personally, has not yet recovered from losing a quarter of the prize money.

"Both with new arrivals," Lana finishes her sentence.

Other than Rio and Mikaela, everyone else seems to be excited about this. New guests mean new chances to make a connection.

"I have allowed the new arrivals to select who they want to ask out on their date."

Han is having mixed feelings about this. He knows that Avery is no longer with Asher but he's slowly losing his interest in her. Maybe the new arrivals can help him move on.

"The first new arrival is... Gwen."

So it's a girl, well, Han can do something about this Gwen. He feels hopeful once again and maybe this time, triumph will be his.

"Gwen has chosen... Rio to be her date."

All eyes are on Mikaela as she tries so hard to remain calm about this but everyone knows that she's fuming inside.

"You seem happy, Rio," Asher teases him which Rio coyly responds with a shrug.

"And date number two will be with Fabian."

His head turns as he hears hears you cooing in wonder, "He sounds exotic," you mutter.

Nya is the most excited one and it's probably because she needs to show Peyton that he's got nothing on her anymore.

"Fabian has chosen... Nya to be his date."

Han doesn't know why he feels glad knowing that this new guy didn't choose you but does that make him the bad guy? He doesn't think so.

"Rio and Nya, you may leave to get ready for the date," Lana orders.

He hasn't seen the new arrivals yet but he can imagine the amount of drama he'll witness later with Rio going on a date with the new girl.

-

HAN: The new arrivals, uh... they can't be ugly, right Lana? [Snickers]

-

The first one to return from the date is Nya and she's bringing a man who's taller than Rio and talks in a French accent.

Han can see that Nya is already all over him and he glances at Peyton who ends up with no one but his own player ass. He just knew that Peyton had it coming for him since that game night when he boldly kissed two girls.

He grabs his first drink of the day with the staff only allowed every contest to take three drinks max and when he gets back to the terrace, he sees a gorgeous girl with blond hair.

Rio is introducing the girl around while Mikaela is intensely watching him from the cabana with furrowed brows and eyes filled with fiery glints like a hawk.

When it comes to his turn, he doesn't bother making a good first impression.

"Han," he simply tells her his name.

"I'm Gwen, hi," she introduces herself.

With the few inches he doesn't have, Gwen can easily put her arm around him for a quick hug, "Nice to meet you!"

Gwen is undeniably beautiful, anyone who looks at her would agree with him. Surprisingly, he's not as excited as he imagined he would be.

Well, the last thing he wants to do is compete to win a girl over and he doesn't want to entertain the idea that Gwen would take a liking to him.

Despite all that, Rio and Mikaela remain strong. Everyone is staying on the same bed and because Nya and Sawyer refuse to sleep with Peyton, he has to share the bed with Finn.

Han feels good knowing that he doesn't have to deal with such drama, he walks to his bed and does not hesitate to cuddle you.

"Hi, sexy bunny," he mutters close to your ear.

The two of you have this inside joke of calling each other silly, childish pet names and yesterday, you called him

'tater tot' and he laughs whenever he recalls it.

"Hi, bubble butt," you reply.

He laughs at that and playfully bites at your shoulder to get back at you. Somehow, the only one he can comfortably share his space with is you and he realizes how grateful he should be for your presence.

"Goodnight, everyone," Avery says while blowing kisses to everyone.

Han tickles your neck with his nose and purposely, breathes into your ear, "Goodnight!"

You giggle in reaction to his tickling breath, "Night!"

He presses a soft, lingering kiss on your head and that's how he ends his day on a sweet note.

-

HAN: I wasn't attracted to her but now I feel bad for not giving her any attention.

-

"It's like working out with Zeus, bro!" Han says, watching Rio working out non-stop while he's sitting on the mat, drenched in sweat for doing not even half of the workout Rio is doing.

Rio carefully lowers down the heavy dumbbells and reorganizes his breath as he takes a break.

"So, are you still chasing Avery?" Rio asks.

Han sucks water out of the bottle, then licks his lips before answering him, "Honestly speaking, I'm losing interest," he answers.

He knows that it'll be different to everyone but seeing what happened to her and Asher, there's a chance that things would likely end up the same.

He's tired of chasing and she keeps hanging up on him, "I think Avery enjoys the thrill, the chase..." he adds while running out of breath.

"Yeah, I think so too," Rio agrees with him.

He then lies down on his back and starts doing sit-ups as if his abs aren't as hard as rock already.

"What about that new girl then?"

"Gwen?"

"Yep, she's pretty," Rio says, being the one who went on a date with her.

"Are you going to make a move on her?"

Han caught Asher making the eyes with Gwen last night and he's not that interested to even try.

Looking at Rio tirelessly working out, he feels motivated to continue and picks up dumbbells.

"You know, I'm feeling it more with my bed partner," Han honestly says.

"I know you like her," Rio says with a glare at him.

He stops doing sit-ups and points at Han, "You just don't want to admit it."

Han has to pause on lifting his dumbbells to continue talking. He suddenly gets flustered because that's true, he keeps denying that there's something more between him and you.

"You two vibe really well," Rio says and he has never seen him being this earnest.

Han stops working out altogether and drops the dumbbells on the floor, "it's because Avery is so my type," he simply defends himself.

"But uh..." he pauses to catch a breath.

"But when I spend time with her, it's... natural," he explains and he doesn't care if that doesn't make sense to Rio, "It's so much fun."

Han breaks down on the floor and wipes the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand, "I overlooked her because she doesn't look like my type."

Rio nods and intently listens to him speak.

"As soon as I saw Gwen last night, I was like... I still prefer her," he admits.

Han doesn't know why he can easily share his feelings with Rio, probably because he feels like a brother to him. Rio taps his shoulder hard enough that it launches him forward.

"You guys are cute together, and get along well, I don't see why you shouldn't try it, man!" He looks so annoyed and eager to see it happen.

Han laughs at that but he wishes he could easily share his feelings like this to you.

-

HAN: Maybe I should open up and accept how I'm feeling rather than keep seeking what's not there.

-

The mud is drying as you're walking back to the villa after having a girls-only workshop at the beach.

You share the shower with Sawyer to wash off the dried mud and waste no time getting ready for a party Lana throws to welcome the new arrivals.

The dressing room is crowded so you grab your make-up pouch to do it in the bathroom and you can do the hair later when it's less crowded in there.

For now, you're brushing your wet hair to the back while looking at your reflection in the mirror.

As you're about to apply moisturizer, you see Han walking into the bathroom and the first thing you see is that gummy smile of his.

"Hi, stud muffin," you playfully call him.

He would usually laugh at the pet names you called him but he only smiles in response, the kind that you've never seen on him.

"What's up?" You ask in wonder.

He doesn't say anything but leans against the sink facing you, looking at you with a cryptic smile dancing on his face.

He finally does something, walking up to you and placing his hands on each side of your waist. Slowly, he brings his mouth to your ear and whispers, "I missed you."

You reflexively burst into waves of laughter and think that he's just playing with you.

"I'm getting concerned," you tell him with a nervous laugh.

Han is also laughing and then he leans in to whisper again, "I miss you when you're not around."

You're giggling because the last thing you expect is to hear him saying that he missed you even though you've only been apart from each other for about three hours.

"Aww..." you coo at him, laughing the second your eyes meet in a gaze.

He cups your jaw then tilts your head, and you close your eyes in reflex. Instead of what you thought it would be, he softly whispers.

"I think I like you."

-

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Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙭𝙫𝙞𝙞𝙞. 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚, 𝙞 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Nov 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

On this midweek late afternoon, the parlour is pleasantly quiet.

White and aqua tiles fit the glacial theme, as do cartoon wall stencils of polar bears and penguins enjoying their ice cream. It’s a few degrees colder in here than outside. You commend their commitment to the bit, but would much prefer not being frozen out.

Good thing Minho surrendered his jacket to you. Cutie.

Streaks of clement sunlight slip through the off-white clusters of cloud. You’re admiring one such vagrant beam when Jisung nudges your foot under the table. Both he and Changbin are nondescript in appearance, having borrowed disguises of face masks and scarves from Minho for the short walk to the parlour. Now inside and seated, they’ve removed them.

Jisung munches around his banana split. “What you said back there,” he mumbles. “What did you mean?”

“What I said?”

He nods, licks chocolate sauce from his index. “You said you were sorry.”

Minho looks nonchalantly up from his vanilla sundae.

You shrug. “I felt bad about Chan.”

Changbin snorts. “Why?”

“I just—” You glance at Minho; he watches you, amused. “I blamed myself for the way he left.”

Jisung shakes his head, puts his spoon down and sighs. “What you’ve got to understand about Chan hyung is that he needs complete control at all times. Like, in everything. If he doesn’t have that, he melts down.”

“So, he’s a certified man-child that can’t stand not getting his own way, is what you’re saying?” Minho cuts.

“Nah.” Jisung puffs a laugh. “He just, like... I know he’s a lot, but he’s a good guy at heart. He worked so hard to get to where he is. We all did. But if he feels like any part of it is slipping away he’ll choke it to death trying to hold on, you know?”

“That doesn’t give him an excuse to lash out at someone he hardly knows,” Minho says.

Jisung hums. “Right. It doesn’t.”

“Can I—” You think about how to word it. “Your relationship... you guys are open? You fool around with other people regularly?”

The rappers share a look. Guilt? You can’t quite tell.

Changbin worries his bottom lip. “Kind of?”

“Kind of? You told me you were open, Jisung,” Minho glares.

“I didn’t lie.”

“But?”

“But... you are the first person I’ve hooked up with.”

Minho blinks, seemingly lost. You wonder if he regrets being the first. Being anyone’s first anything is a hefty responsibility.

“Chan said he was down to open the relationship,” Jisung says. “After we met you at your studio he said you were cool, that anyone you could introduce us to would be cool, and that it’d all be cool.”

“Yet his little tantrum would suggest he’s anything but cool about it.” Minho sighs. “He didn’t want us to come to the show, did he?”

You watch the cogs creak as Jisung’s mouth falls open and shuts. Changbin pats the struggling blonde’s shoulder. “Not really,” he admits. “He gave in for us. We wanted you there.”

“So, he was under duress last night? The whole time?” you ask.

Jisung skims a hand through his hair, puffs a breath. “We figured when we actually met you and got out, had a few drinks, he’d relax and like, get into it. He builds things up so much in his head and—”

“Why didn’t he want us there?” Minho asks.

Changbin swirls his spoon around the melty mess of strawberry in his bowl. “If I had to guess, maybe nerves? Fear?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Please. Like he’s got so much to fear from a dance teacher and barista.”

“Just guessing, man. Like I said.”

“Why do you even want to see other people?” you then ask. “Surely you’re content.”

Three beautiful men? How could any of you be miserable?

Jisung stares at his banana split. “It’s, uh... complicated.”

“We have time,” Minho says.

“It’s not that we're not content,” Changbin explains. “I love both of them, and I know they love me. The screwing around wasn’t something we ever planned on when we started out. It just, like, happened. Three hot dudes spending endless nights together writing about sex and love and all that shit? It was kind of inevitable.”

God, yes.

“None of us identify as gay,” Changbin continues quietly. He looks at Minho. “I guess we prefer the safe and all-encompassing umbrella of queer?” Minho smiles faintly. “And before all this, we never... I mean— We were each other’s firsts. Dudes.”

Jisung clears his throat. “It was so good at first, but the bigger we get as a band the more limited we are. We’re wound so tightly around each other now it’s fucking suffocating. We fight so much, and it’ll be over the dumbest shit. We haven’t had sex in weeks because we just resent each other. It’s even started impacting our producing, which, like; that can’t happen, you know?”

“Opening things up is the only way to keep us sane and keep us together,” Changbin adds. “Jisung and I approached Chan with the idea, and we could tell he hated it, but he admitted something had to change.”

“That’s what you mean when you say he ‘kind of’ agreed?” you prod.

Jisung nods. “Hyung says he’s on board, but like, it’s hard to tell for real when he does so much to appease us. Especially after earlier. I don’t know if he wants to change things, after all.”

“Would it be a problem if he wasn’t?” Minho asks, dark gaze flicking between them.

Changbin drums his fingers on the table.

“I don’t know.”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ♡ 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

well shit

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙭𝙞𝙭. 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Nov 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Three men walk into a bar. Two of them ask for sex on the beach. The third asks for monogamy and says, “Please don’t break my heart, darling.”

Oh. You wanted a punchline? There is none. At least, you can’t find it.

No, there’s nothing remotely funny about two thirds of 3racha wanting to fuck someone other than their third partner (or each other). Nothing funny about you and your roommate being potential intended’s. Nothing funny about the way the third partner must resent you and your roommate for it.

Is it possible to wreck a home before one has even set foot in it?

“This won’t, like, affect things with the track, right?” Jisung asks.

Minho’s brows knit. “I don’t let personal affect working.”

“Right. Good.”

“Assuming Chan still even wants to work with me.”

“Oh, he will,” Changbin scoffs. “He pulled every string we have just to get your number.”

“Speaking of number,” you interject, “do you have Chan’s?”

All three men blink at you. Heat crawls up your nape.

“I’d like to talk to him.”

“Honey, I don’t think—”

“Please,” you press against Minho’s warning. Jisung seems most likely to cave; you lean over the table, take his chilly hand. “Please.”

“Man,” he tuts, already pulling his phone from his jacket. “Here.”

Outside the parlour, you pace alongside the window. With every monotone ring that sounds off in your ear, your heart pounds harder. The ringing clicks sharply to voicemail, but you don’t leave one. You’re considering whether or not it’s poor mobile etiquette to ring again immediately when a text message lights up your phone.

>> Who is this?

You think about calling him again; if you text him back he might block you and be done with it.

>> I don’t answer unrecognised numbers.

Right.

<< it’s lee minho’s roommate

A minute is suspended in thick tension, the message delivered and seen. When your phone rings, you startle and drop it with a toe-curling crack against the concrete. You scramble to save it and answer breathlessly.

“Hello?”

“How did you get my number?”

“Um, Jisung—”

“Goddamn it.” A beat of silence, and then he huffs, “What do you want?”

“Just to talk. If that’s okay.”

More silence. You talk anyway.

“I, uh... I know we don’t know each other. I mean; I might feel like I know you a little, just because I’ve listened to your music so much, but we’re strangers. This makes what I'm about to say really presumptuous, but... it’s not to offend you.”

Static bleeds from the other end. You keep talking.

“Your relationship—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“N— No, please. Just wait. I’m trying to reassure you, Chan.”

“I don’t need your fucking reassurance. You don’t know the first thing about us.”

“I know that Jisung needs constant validation. I know that Changbin is surprisingly gentle. I know that you all care about each other on a level that I probably don’t even understand, and I want you to know that neither me nor Minho are trying to take that away from you.”

There’s a deep breath, and then: “What did they tell you?”

“Sorry?”

“Jisung and Changbin. What did they say about me?”

“Chan—”

“Stop saying my fucking name like we’re friends,” he suddenly snaps. “Jisung and Changbin talk a lot without saying anything. They run their mouths because they enjoy the sound of their own voices. Whatever’s been said about me—about us—it’s all bullshit. You don’t know me, and you never will. Enjoy their attention while it lasts, because it won’t for long. They know where their love lies, and I promise you, it’s not with a fucking fan and her backup dancer.”

You stop pacing; grey clouds gather above, blotting the sunlight.

“Why are you being like this? I’m just trying to tell you that I—”

“Call me again and I’ll sue you for harassment. Fucking sasaeng.”

The line dies abruptly. The first droplets of newborn rain skate over you. It’ll pour down soon.

Changbin, Jisung and Minho emerge from the parlour, the formers swathed in their disguises.

“Well?” Changbin asks expectantly.

You shrug. “Yeah. Fine.”

Minho hides his smile in his scarf.

Curse him for knowing fucking everything.

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ♡ 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

↳ Forever was simple: meet a man you love, and live happily ever after.

A hope built on lies, and when it all comes crashing down, you find a new faith inside of the atrium at the countryside.

painter!lee minho x fem!reader/prince!hwang hyunjin x fem!reader (side pairing) — arranged marriage au, historical au. royalty, slow burn, angst, idiots in love, sexual content. [26k wc] cws: themes of vaguely period-typical sexism, themes of loneliness, (heavy) pining + the poor decisions that sometimes result from that, themes of social anxiety + using alcohol to cope, heavy sexual content.

𝕀.

Everything around you glitters in the ambient light of the evening masquerade ball.

Tables lined with beautiful cloths sit along the edges of the ornate hall, piled high with decorative and delicious foods. Amber, bubbling drinks flow and occasionally spill out of long, crystal glasses held by perfectly manicured hands holding them just a little too excitedly.

The kind of night life that you have grown so accustomed to.

Your dress is stunning and perfectly to your tastes, hair styled to match and draped in decadent jewels to showcase yourself with. The suitors are dressed much in the same, though in far more drab colors as men tend to do. This is of no consequence to you, because your eye is set on only one in particular.

Crown Prince Hwang Hyunjin.

You watch him from across the marbled floor, through groups of guests who might as well not even be present with how rapt your attention is on him. He is tall and broad, far from lanky but toned enough to give the impression of a certain kind of sturdiness that has always edged a particular curiosity in you. Hyunjin's hair is black, tied back from framing his face with its length, and you watch him laugh through conversations with other women who likely desire the same thing as you.

Engaging in private rendezvous with potential suitors is strictly against the royal code, all the more reason that no one must ever find out about the edge above the rest that you have taken for yourself in regards to him.

The memories date back to the summer—winter now—a late night out with other women that you've mostly grown up with and set as your entourage. The first time, running into the royal Hwang entourage without prying eyes to watch you felt like something of a hint, and the second, more of a blessing as the night ended with soft hands against your skin, and plush lips pressed against your own.

These secret encounters carried on through the months, as well as implicit promises in relation to the royal choices soon to be made. Between the sheets and with warm breaths of air exhaled against the shell of your ear, Hyunjin has promised time and time again: "You will be my choice, you have nothing to fear, my love. It's all for show and display, isn't it?"

You believe him.

"Are you going to spend the whole evening in the corner by yourself?" A woman steps up beside you with a knowing grin, and you offer your elbow to her side lightly in response.

"I've no particular interest in showing myself off like some prized cut of meat for men to fawn over, you know this, Sana."

This woman, a friend since your earliest days, looks out across the crowd not unlike yourself just moments before, and then offers yet another smile of understanding before speaking.

"Not for men, perhaps, but for a man," she says. "Are you really so sure that you only carry interest in Crown Prince Hwang? There are so many other perfectly acceptable suitors to choose from."

You sigh, taking a small sip from your glass. "I do not doubt that there are, but when have you ever known me to be the type to spread myself so thin between any such possibilities in life? I have always been something of a single-eyed woman."

"That much I do know, yes," Sana says with a small laugh, "but I don't want you to be left with nothing in the event of things not turning out the way that you wish them to. The Prince has many hopefuls, and while he is the only prince, would it be so bad to consider a life outside of the royal court? You've never much cared for the excessive nature of their goings on, anyway."

Turning to look at her, you cast Sana a questioning glance, "I have grown up in the lap of luxury, it is all that I know, are you to imply a step down is what suits me rather than a step up?"

"I would never, but there are many levels between poverty, and royalty."

"Anything other than a step up, is a step down," you say firmly, pressing the rim of your glass to your painted lip again. Your eyes wander out towards Hyunjin once more, and a slight curve upwards takes them, perhaps some enjoyment in the fact that you know something that even your closest confidants do not. Perhaps some enjoyment in the fact that you have already won a game that the others still insist on competing in. "Besides, do you think not of me as future Queen?"

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing, just remember me and all of our times shared once you begin lobbing off the heads of people who dare to oppose you."

Feigning horror, you reel exaggeratedly, "Now who is assuming things?"

Sana's hand finds the small of your tightly bound back, and lightly pushes you forward.

"Go dance with your future husband, would you?"

𝕀𝕀.

While far from unusual for your nights to end up like this, perhaps after everything that this one has presented, the aura casts something different, something intangible and strange that you can't quite grasp despite its familiarity still.

The masquerade ball winds down three levels from where you reside now. People still dance and laugh and shout amongst themselves, though the largest collective of guests have long since begun their journeys back to their own homes. Your entourage awaits you somewhere outside for much of the same, though they have long since learned not to bother coming and finding you in the event that you have disappeared.

For that, you are thankful, because nothing good can come of being discovered like this.

The room is small—a sitting area with little more than a table, chair, window, and tall bookshelves filled to the brim with just that. Moonlight shines in as the only illumination, faint and appearing cool to the touch if one were able to. Only enough to find one's way, and plenty to remain hidden in the darkness while people engage in their disagreeable deeds.

Lips hurriedly find your own, teeth nipping at them with a needy hunger. Palms graze up the outside of your legs, dress hiked up and leg eventually along with it. The door is pinned shut by your back firmly pressed against it, your head tips back with a small thud, Hyunjin chuckles under his breath at the sound, and then drives his hips forward to give the both of you what it is that you've been waiting all evening for.

"I saw you speaking with Lady Sana this evening," Hyunjin whispers, mouth feathering against your neck. "Am I wrong in suspecting that you were speaking about me?"

He presses himself forward, pulls your body down and against the effort simultaneously, ensuring no space is left between your figures. You gasp at the feeling, and he smiles at the sound, fingernails digging into the flesh of your thighs and hips in places that you don't dare let any of your house staff see.

"You would not be wrong," you reply, forcefully maintaining some semblance of composure. "Only good things, of course."

Chest pinned against your own, Hyunjin pulls back, then presses into you again. The glide is smoother this time, and you can't help the moan that escapes you suddenly.

"Have you told her?" he asks, drives quicker and less shallow than before. "I must announce my decision tomorrow afternoon, not long to wait now."

The ability to converse is leaving you with each steady roll of Hyunjin's hips. Your fingernails grip tightly into his suit jacket, though it grants you little purchase with the smoothness of it. Harder, faster; the tell-tale signs of nefarious activities beginning to be heard in rhythmic fashion against the wood of the door, as well as the explicit, unmistakable sound of skin meeting skin.

"No," you manage to say, though barely, "I would never, would never jeopardize what we have waited so long for."

Hyunjin's lips trail up your neck, along the edge of your jaw and settle lightly against your own. He kisses you gently, then merely sits there to drink down the gasps and whimpers of you accepting him. There is little time for this—something that the both of you know—rolls and snaps of his hips become quick, erratic in order to meet his end, and so he does with the kind of rapidity that leaves you terribly wanting and wishing for more.

There is a parting kiss left to you, and Hyunjin readjusts himself so that he can reemerge into the public. Smoothing your dress and slipping out from the doorway, he cracks it open to leave but looks back at you with a smile that you can only assume to be full of sly adoration for you, and for this. The joys of engaging in such things unbeknownst to others, the excitement of deception.

"A shame that tomorrow we will put an end to this, isn't it?" he says.

A shame indeed, you think to yourself. And then he is gone.

𝕀𝕀𝕀.

Just as you had anticipated it would, the city streets come alive for the naming of the Crown Prince’s companion.

Bodies crowd around you by every inch, music performed with accompanying dancers displaying their crafts as well as shop setups lining the way selling beautiful merchandise; hand crafted with care that shines blindingly under the sunlight above.

As you move along your way, the numerous scents of charred meats and grilled vegetables infiltrate your senses, all encompassing and inviting in a way that makes you almost wish to give up on what it is that you are meant to do today. In order to keep your mind set, you remind yourself that soon you will be at the receiving end of royal chefs and all that it is they have to offer you. There is charm to the street cooks and their home grown and cut ingredients, but nothing matches the knowledge and adeptness of the throne.

You have dressed simply today, not wanting to draw attention to yourself nor wanting to appear expectant. Reaching closer to the stage, the bodies are packed in far more tightly, as do the frequency of other potentials come more into vision. So many women; hair stacked high and curled in such a lovely way, all standing in wait in their best dresses with moderate jewelry. It is cold today, and the lavish, heavy coats that hang around their shoulders allude to as much, but you are warm with a deep understanding of what you are to gain this afternoon.

 A few rows back from the front of the stage, you find Sana as well as another friend shared between the two of you, Tzuyu. A beautiful woman wrapped in dark vermillion red with black hair that hangs so opposingly to Sana's blonde. They both smile and greet you, as do you, to them.

"Are you anticipating the naming as much as the rest of us are?" Tzuyu asks, a bright, cheerfulness to her tone that gives her something of a charmingly juvenile expressiveness. "So many women are here in wait, I do wonder what His Highness has in store for us."

"A difficult choice awaits him, no doubt," Sana adds, glancing up towards the place where he will soon call his decision towards the people. "I question how these sorts of decisions could ever be made through matters of the heart, but I suppose when it comes to royalty, the heart is of the least concern."

Pulling your coat tightly against yourself, you force back the smile that wishes to take your lips. "I trust that he will make the right call, do you not?"

"I'd sooner disappear into the forest, never to be seen again than dare speak ill of the royal house and their choosings," Sana says through a laugh. "Besides, I would be banished to such a place for doing so, anyway."

"You speak in theatrics," Tzuyu scoffs, a roll of her eyes punctuating it. "The rulers of our country are not so sinister."

"One can only hope, but knowledge of the Crown Prince and his ways are not well known to the people, only time will tell if he is as benevolent of a ruler as His and Her Majesty are," Sana says.

You look at her questioningly, "You suspect otherwise?" you ask, but she is quick to shake her head.

"No, but I am realistic in all of the possibilities that lie before us. Quite the contract, in fact, I have heard rather good things."

Sana's tone is peculiar to you in a way that you find difficult to pinpoint as she speaks on the intricacies of Hyunjin's personality. Her face is simplistic enough to not give anything away, but the sound of her voice carries a sort of inflection when referring to him that settles a strangely ire spark within your chest.

You are given no time to question it further, however, because the royal guards set themselves perfectly in place along the stage, and the arrival of the throne is loudly announced from beyond.

His and Her Majesty step forward first, luxuriously sparkling with expensive jewels and fur coats that you would otherwise never hope to afford, not even from your own place of incredibly comfortable class. The two of them settle in the background, and without wasting any further time, the man that you have grown to love and adore enters the stage in long, tall strides that exude confidence and elegance both.

Thankful for your place in the crowd, you gaze up at him and await his eyes to meet your own. A scroll is handed to him by one of the royal staff from just outside of the main stage, and he slowly unfurls it for all waiting eyes to see.

Hyunjin, all white in attire and garnished with a stunning sash that weighs heavily with brooches and sigils, inhales deeply and then looks out towards the crowd. You stare expectantly, because this is your time. So many nights shared hushed and secret between the two of you, discussed between sheets and pillows of just this very moment that will be granted unto you. His eyes do not find yours, but it is of no particular concern to you, as there will be so many more times for adoring moments to be had between the both of you from this day forward.

No more secrets, no more hiding your love for one another.

"Thank you for gathering here today, it is an honor for me to be able to share this with the people of my country. I do not wish to take much of your time, as there are far more convivial activities for you to be partaking in, aren't there?"

Gentle laughter resounds through the crowd, and Hyunjin smiles ever so slightly at the sound of it before glancing down at the paper in hand once again.

"With my greatest pleasure, I will announce to you the future Queen of the Hwang throne…"

Excitement flows through your veins, head light and nearly dizzying as you await the call. You clutch tightly to your robe, knuckles white and forcing your breath steady as the seconds pass by you like decades until the name is called.

A name is called.

"Minatozaki Sana."

A name that does not belong to you.

From just beside you, a shriek falls from Sana's lips but is forced back halfway through, presumably as to not embarrass herself. Tzuyu clutches at the friend’s shoulders and the two of them celebrate with covered mouths, wide eyes, and hushed shock. The world dulls into a kind of unfelt, nonexistent quietness around you as you stare forward and towards this man; this man that you have shared your body and a bed with, so much of your time and trust with.

He has betrayed you.

You can no longer hear the other women around you, shrouded in disbelief as you gawk at him. Something within you wishes to disappear—humiliation beginning to thrum up and across your skin—there is a small token of solace in the fact that no one else knows of your engagements with him prior as it is widely and heavily frowned upon for the both of you, but this knowledge does nothing to ease the pain that swiftly starts to replace all of the other initial feelings that have befallen you in these seconds passing.

The dizziness begins to set in faster and heavier, you realize that you must take your leave now. You take a step backwards, bumping into another saddened hopeful, but don't even have your wits about you enough to apologize for having done so. Sana and Tzuyu grab at you, say something, but you cannot hear it through the thick blanket of betrayal that casts so heavily between you, and them. Perhaps you congratulate her, words leave your lips but you haven't the slightest clue of what they are. Sana is smiling, crying, so perhaps they have been adequate enough.

Another step back, and you look up towards Hyunjin again. This time, his eyes find yours, and all he offers you is the faintest of wicked grins.

You take your leave quietly, without another word. Heart hanging heavily and not allowing him to take the tears from you that he has so evilly and rightfully earned.

𝕀𝕍.

You are not given time to grieve your loss, as if to intentionally add insult to injury.

Unfortunately, your parents can only be as understanding as information granted allows them to be. The first month, you are given space to wade through your reasonable disappointment, but past that point in time, questions of your next potential suitor once again begin to find themselves at the forefront of discussion amongst the dinner table. You did not know this man, I understand your disappointment in not being chosen, but it's high time to look forward and set your sights towards other potentials, your mother says. Royalty is not everything, there are plenty of other perfectly well-to-do men to take your pick from, your father says.

You tell them that you will look, with no intention of truly doing so. Once the second month passes by with little more progress, you begin to find the signs around the house of your parents taking matters into their own hands.

Letters line the desk of your father’s library room, and one in particular causes the hair at the back of your neck to stand on end.

Only partially sticking out from beneath the stack, you just so slightly pull the corner to unearth more of the words that bring a sickness to your stomach. 

"Would be honored to be chosen as your daughter's suitor. The estate is grand and well-kept, though rather empty of life—" the sentence is cut off, you skip to the next area that you can read. "Staff around the clock. Any endeavors she wishes to engage in will be made available—"

The spin inside of your stomach has you reaching forward and clutching at the sides of your father’s desk. It has only been two months, and already there are discussions of having you shipped out and elsewhere, to a strange man that you have never met, and will be expected to placate in all of the ways that one might. While these sorts of scenarios are nothing new to you—the knowledge well known—this was never supposed to be you. No, you were to marry into the royal house, to be made Queen, and having done so through a shared love. 

Not pawned off to a stranger who intends to keep you as a moderately cared for pet. You have heard the stories of other such arrangements before; the best that you can ever hope for is a perfectly tepid and boring man who has no interest in your being there, and has only accepted it for the offerings that such an agreement carries between the families in a monetary and societal sense.

How could your parents do this to you? The truth of the matter, however, is that they do not know the intricacies of what it is that they are doing to you. The details of your prior goings on. They must never know, and god forbid potential suitors were to ever find out about your involvement with the Prince beforehand…shunned and displaced, you will forever remain.

Turning towards the doorway, you begin to take your leave. The wheels are in motion and there is nothing left for you to do. Moving forward, you will await the day that your father comes to you with the news of having come to an agreement with a man for the arrangement of your marriage, and you will grin and bear it as daughters of high class households are told to do. In the meantime, you will hope and pray that the man chosen by your father is a kind one, a simple one. Dull and uninteresting and with only enough attention to give to his own things.

𝕍.

Writing takes you by the soul, and always has for as long as you found yourself able to hold a pen.

Your timing in finding out about your father’s misdoings an impeccable sort, because it is only two days later that he finds you in the large study of your manor and informs you of the news. A decision has been made about your future—one that you have had no part in making—and you will be sent off in two weeks time to the northern countryside to live with a man who he describes as "kind, albeit a little eccentric from what I can gather." The documentation has already been signed, and as far as you are concerned in a legal sense, are now married to someone whose name you do not even know.

"Lee Minho," your father says quietly, and you can't help but wonder if the airiness to his voice is of true sadness in having done this to you, or a feigned one, only given because he believes it to be what you desire of him. "He's a painter, quite gifted. A very well-off man, you shouldn't worry about wanting for anything in the absence of our affluence."

Hand gripping the pen tightly, still pressed hard against the paper, you find yourself indifferent to whether or not he can see the displeasure washing over you.

"Understood, I'll have my belongings packed by the handmaidens in proper time."

Your tone is simple, offering nothing more than the most basic of expressions. He does not reply to you with any sort of swiftness, and instead sighs as he turns to make his exit.

"I'm sorry it had to come down to this," he says suddenly, and with no warning. "As you know, you are coming up on your age and—"

"I know, father," you reply, just as flatly as before and continuing with your work along the page. "It is understood."

He leaves, and your scribbling comes to you with a slightly more erratic speed.

𝕍𝕀.

The goodbyes shared with your family carry little weight, and while there is a large part of you never wishing for this day to have come, there is another area that finds solace in no longer having to live under the roof of people who have done so wrongly by you, and with such great ease.

All you needed was time, and you were not given that. Is it so difficult to carry empathy for people who are hurting? To cast aside asinine traditions of age and worth for the sanctity of caring for those that share blood? 

Sitting in the back of the carriage as it plods along, you stare out of the small window and contemplate just that. What is family, if not the people meant to care for you above all else? Hyunjin betrayed you with a kind of extravagant ease, but your family, he was not. What excuse do your parents have to cast you aside so eagerly? All but sell you off to a man and for no other reason than to maintain social appearances. Yes, my daughter married that famous painter, Lee Minho. How exceptional and prized such a partnership is. 

The journey is a long one, and you hope to have settled in your anger by the time that you arrive. You have no interest in maintaining any sort of exceptional appearances with this man, but perhaps at the very least, he does not need to be on the receiving end of your indignation.

Instead, you fantasize about the perfect life you may be able to cultivate upon your arrival. Perhaps there are perks to him being involved in such a solitary way of life; you imagine two sides of the same mansion, one for you, and one for him. The painter and the writer, and never shall they meet.

𝕍𝕀𝕀.

Nighttime falls upon the land before you make your arrival, and late into the evening do you come. 

The estate is seen long before you come upon it, with a handful of lights standing out against the otherwise stark darkness of the countryside surroundings. You recall a mention of the home being relatively lifeless, and so few lights on inside certainly give truth to that. Barren trees line the street and as far as the eye can see given how deeply into winter it still is. There is little snow piled up into little hills along the ground, but it is impossible to see the vastness of the land without proper daylight to guide you.

When you arrive, a handful of house staff are there to greet you. Three women smile and bow, help you out of the carriage and then move along to retrieve your things. One remains with you, and you pull your jacket tighter so as to not allow the frigid air to touch you.

"It is much colder in the countryside than what you are used to," she says gently. "You'll get used to it in due time, but it can be frightening at first."

You glance at her, though not for long. It feels strange to be attended to by staff other than those that you are used to being handled by. This strange woman—older but softer in demeanor—smooths a hand down your arm with little more than a feather-light touch, and then offers you a slight yet understanding smile.

"My name is Mai, I am the head of the housing staff, you'll be seeing me around quite often, so I hope that we can grow comfortable with one another quickly. I understand that this is difficult for you, and strange, so please take your time. There's no rush to become acquainted with myself or the estate grounds."

It's only then that you come to realize the stark lacking of someone else's attendance to your arrival. You glance around slightly, perhaps you have missed him? But there are no men, and so, you ask the question, "What about Mr. Lee?"

Mai's features drop ever so slightly, like she feels some level of sympathy for you. Her hand smooths over your arm again, then gently tugs you towards the large doorway.

"The Master of the house will seldom make himself known, I wouldn't worry too much about that, dear."

"He didn't even come to welcome me, a strange sort of fellow to not bother greeting his wife upon her arrival," you say pointedly. It garners another, particular sort of look from the woman bringing you inside.

"Yes, the Master has been referred to as strange before, this would not be the first time. Please don't take it personally, or as some sort of slight towards you individually. I'm sure that given enough time, the two of you should meet and become acquainted with one another."

You chuckle under your breath, "Husband and wife, acquainted with one another. What have my parents done."

Though your wish upon arriving has ultimately come true, you sift through the confusion in your feelings regarding Minho's disinterest in finding you. The woman that he has taken into his home, agreed to marry, surely expected to have children with—yet with no apparent interest in your being there whatsoever. Stepping inside of the home, it shines and exudes beauty, almost like a museum. Pieces of painted art and statues sit at every inch, as far as the eye can see, but all you can think about is the absence of the man who has beckoned you here.

"I apologize for the darkness of the estate, as you know, it's quite late. I hope that you will take it upon yourself to wander tomorrow during the day. Everything is yours, please make yourself at home." Mai extends a hand forward and towards the large staircase, then points upwards at the centered emptiness created by the winding steps. "At the highest level is the atrium, the only place that is strictly off limits. The Master does most of his work up there, though it's difficult to simply stumble upon, no cause for concern as far as that goes."

Continuing to gaze up at what feels like forever, you slowly bring your attention back down and then fully towards Mai.

"Why has he brought me here?" you ask.

A single corner of her mouth perks, as if contemplating offering a smile that may or may not be apt. Besides that, however, the only expression of feeling you can find amongst her features is that of compassion, and perhaps, maybe even pity.

"As you know, these sorts of things tend to be about maintaining appearances…" Mai trails off, likely on account of having nothing more to add to the fact. It is plenty enough, and indeed, you are very well aware.

"I'd like to be taken to my room now."

There's a hazy numbness that finds your limbs as the staff take your things and begin moving towards the stairs. This is your new life, your new normal for the rest of your life. A loveless existence, a loveless marriage with a man that you will scarcely meet. You wonder, albeit briefly, what you have done to doom your existence to that of such fleeting tenderness. 

Hyunjin did not love you, but he was willing to pretend, and while your body was beneath his, you could so easily believe it.

Minho does not love you, and will not even grant you as much. No willingness to try, no interest in feigning the possibility of as much. You are not so foolish to expect to fall in love with this man, but is it so wrong to wish for moments that offer themselves to the fleeting fantasy of it? Infrequent dinners, shared glances from down the hall, and if all goes well, even a kind of friendship developed amongst incapable lovers.

Your bedroom is stunning and immaculately decorated. Mai informs you that anything that you wish to have added or removed is yours to have, and that she will see to it being done swiftly. The walls are lined in a dark, royal blue and accented at the corners with incredible, gold fillings that make the estate feel more like a castle than a simple home for only one man and his house staff. 

The thought is appreciated, but you truly cannot fathom wanting for more, not in the physical sense of owning and acquiring physical things. The emptiness inside of you is so much heavier and deeper than the shade of the walls, or the perfectly waxed oak of the floors.

"Thank you," you say. The words are small, and sound far more defeated than you would like them to. Mai is heavenly, everything that you could ever want from someone that you're likely to be spending the majority of your time here with. "What time shall I come down for breakfast in the morning?"

Mai smiles in the doorway, her light gray dress swaying with every slight movement that she makes.

"Eight is standard for the house, but whenever you prefer. If you are an early riser, we can see to it that it is ready and waiting for you by the time you find your footing."

You glance at your handbag, manuscript of your writing sticking out by the corner from it and make your decision going forward.

"I am something of an early morning type. I like to write, I find that I do my best work before the rest of the world begins to stir," you say, forcing a small smile into your lips. "I don't require much, especially just for one person. Just some small breads with butter and coffee will suit me just fine."

Mai nods happily, so obviously delighted by your willingness to allow her to do what she does here. "Of course, anything you wish. If you need anything else in the morning, please don't hesitate to inform any of the staff, we want to make your transition here as smooth and seamless as possible."

"Thank you," you say again, and Mai takes her leave.

Sleep does not find you well that night, despite the weariness of your body from the travel. Instead, your mind races with possibility and wonder about the ghost that you now share a home with, and when you finally do find rest, all that is there to greet you now is the dark, faceless silhouette of a man that you may never come to meet.

𝕍𝕀𝕀𝕀.

Time at the estate feels as though it crawls, and yet slips away and through your fingers in ways that make it feel as though it doesn't really exist at all.

Another month passes you by, a new routine set into motion not unlike yours from back home. Different settings, different foods offered; scents that arrive to you like they are foreign and fabrics against your skin that feel entirely different from that which you have become accustomed to. Life here is easy, and for that, you are thankful, but the dull ache of listlessness begins to take hold of you faster than you might have anticipated it to, and your curiosities about the manor creep up and make themselves known to you without much of an ability left in you to fight them off.

You have yet to meet Minho, even in all of your time here. A month is not long to spend in one place, but feels like a lifetime to not have met the person that you live with, the man that you are married to and meant to spend the rest of your days alongside.

Writing, at the very least, comes to you with incredible ease while cased inside of these walls. Your manuscript—a sort of anonymous autobiography of your life—grows and grows like it is showered with all of the sunlight and nutrients of a lovingly kept garden. There is nothing else for you to do here, after all.

These routines come to you naturally, not one to stray from those things that come naturally and comfortably to you. In the mornings, you wake early to head downstairs to eat warm, buttered bread and take your cup of coffee; leaving towards the large study that sits looking off into the flowerbeds with a large, never dirtied window to grant you such a view.

Books surround here, as do their smells. You could never hope to read them all, though you might like to. When particularly down about your circumstances, you consider the fact that you have ample time to begin such an endeavor, as nothing else inside of this building will ever bother to ask for time from you.

One day after the mark of a month from your arrival, you stay up a little later than usual and slowly sip an aged, red wine from the shined lip of a glass. Your nighttime gown already drapes from your body, but you have no such intention of finding sleep any time soon.

For one reason or another, the atrium calls to you silently in the ambient darkness of the house.

The house staff is long asleep, nobody lurking the corridors to ensure that the inhabitants are not allowing the whimsy of curiosity to get the best of them. You step out and into the hallway, small candles lining the way and towards the stairs that lead further up, guiding lights beckoning you, asking you to follow them, telling you to take liberties not truly afforded to you.

So you do. Up so many flights, a climb that feels endless at points, until of course, you reach the top. 

Perhaps you had expected too much, built up the possibilities so much in your mind that whatever it is that you might find here never standing a chance in living up to your imagination. There is little that greets you once you climb the last step; no warning signs, no guards or traps set for intruders stumbling upon this place. Instead, you find an incomprehensible mess along the large and wide expanse of floor. Canvases sprawled as far as the eye can see—some still basking in their unmarred perfection, others splashed with color or linework—paint pots and filthy brushes, palettes that appear as though they've never seen the loving touch of water to clean them.

Furthest away from where you stand, you find a table and a single chair, though it would not seem to be used for its intended purpose with the way items have been set against and atop them. There are papers sitting on the wood, however, and your budding curiosity gets the best of you even more as you carefully step forward and over all of the belongings that coat the floor.

The floor beneath you is sturdy, and for that, you are thankful. There are no creaks of footsteps to alert anyone of your presence here, and when you arrive at the table, you find piles upon piles of letters pinned down beneath dirty, likely forgotten jars of water.

The penmanship of one draws your attention, familiar and loud as it stares back at you. It is from your father.

This date is recent, one of the few things that you can make out from where it sits. You care little for maintaining your invisibility here now, and pull the sheet out from within the others so that you can read it in full.

You realize quickly upon scanning it that you did not know what to expect, but what it is that you have found now somehow sits even more strangely in your chest. Your eyebrows furrow as you take in the words from your father—they are nonsensical in every sense of the word—incomprehensible when paired with the realism of your life at this place.

One part reads: I am happy to hear that the two of you are getting along so splendidly. Of course, it is impossible to say when putting together such matters, but I had something of a feeling that it would be right, and I am so blessed to find that this meeting has been a successful one.

He has been lying to your father ever since your arrival here.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

Your attention shoots up from the letter, which drops from your hand on account of the shock in being found. What jars you from your thoughts much more than having been caught, however, is not that fact in and of itself. Rather, it is the fact that it is the voice of a man that has questioned you.

And looking up from here, back towards the stairs, the moonlight shines in from the glass ceiling panels of the atrium, down onto the face of a man with somewhat long and relatively unkempt black hair that curtains in front of his eyes delicately. His jaw is strong, sharp; outlining narrow eyes and lips that settle into a somewhat upturned position when not forced into another shape.

Could it be…?

You do not respond right away, and neither does he press you further for a reply. Instead, the man carries himself forward and kneels down in front of a particular pile of painting supplies. Perhaps you hadn't taken careful enough notice of them, the way that the paint is still fresh and wet, now that you look at it.

His shirt is white, sleeves rolled up along his forearms and cuffed carelessly at the bend of his elbow. He appears strong, not at all the dainty, frail image of an artist type that one might typically assume someone like this to be. Somewhere within you swims the possibility that this is not the man that you are married to, merely some other person who also is granted the ability to use the atrium for its assigned purpose, but the thought seems asinine with the evidence presented in front of you.

He grabs a brush, takes a palette into hand and dips the bristles into something dark. One stroke, then another onto a canvas that has already been seen by his hand previously. He ignores you for many long moments, and as a result, you merely stand there in silence and watch as he continues on.

The brush dips into a jar of water, swirled around and faintly clinking against the glass. Then, the man looks up at you again.

"Is there?"

Forgetting that there has ever been a question posed, your mind races to catch up to what it is that he's asking. Nervousness catches your limbs, not knowing what to do with your hands, your feet, the expression on your face when suddenly and finally addressed. 

But you have no interest in answering his inquiry, and instead, pose one of your own.

"Why have you been lying to my father?"

"Ah," he says, the sound quiet and coming out with a knowing exhale. His attention drops back to the canvas and colors in front of him. "Do you make it a habit of reading other people's mail, then?"

"We've not even met once since I moved here, yet you're telling my father that we're getting along swimmingly, why?"

"Are we not?" Minho says, his engagement in the discussion confirmation enough of the fact that this is him. "No arguments, no raised tones or names called. As far as I'm concerned, we're getting along as well as one might hope, all things considered."

"We have never even met!" you nearly yell, dropping your volume at the tail end with the way that you know voice carries through the halls of the estate. This is a discussion meant for the two of you alone. "The least you could do after all of this time is introduce yourself to me, especially if you're going to be lying to my parents about the goings on out here!"

Minho looks up at you then, but his face is empty of feeling. "This is why I thought it best that we not meet, now I have to tell him that things have taken a turn," he says.

His face does not allude to it, but his tone very much does in the way that the faintest hint of amusement can be discerned throughout his words. Hearing such coyness does nothing to calm your growing resentment towards him, if anything, only adding fuel to the budding fire.

"Do you think this is funny?" you ask, anger laden in your voice. "Is that why you brought me out here? For your amusement, so that you could laugh to yourself in the late hours of the night about the woman that you're keeping holed up while I rot away inside of these walls and lament what my life might have been if my father had only allowed me a little more time?"

Stare unwavering, your eyes remain locked onto Minho's once you finish speaking, and he is not quick to reply in any fashion. Silence slips in between the two of you, only the faintest ticking of an old, antique clock stationed off to the side heard between the nothingness growing inside of the atrium.

Then, he sighs.

"I brought you out here because of the nature of our society and the expectation of certain norms therein. You know this as well as I do, what is expected of us by certain ages. Unfortunately for you, both of our time is nearly up and as a result, this is how fate would have it."

He explains it so matter of factly that the entire concept of these arrangements feels strange and foreign to you, despite its familiarity. Minho is right, and what he says to you is true, but it does little to make you feel calm in the matter. He offers you no comfort, no easiness or soft words to sort any pain that you may be feeling as a result of it. Perfunctory in delivery, Minho only gives to you precisely what it is that the two of you already know; nothing more, and nothing less.

You know this, but the dull ache of pain inside of your chest does not wane. It grows instead, so much so that you find yourself losing the ability to maintain disdain for him, or the fact that he brought you here, at all.

"Did you reach out to my father, or did he call out to you?" you ask, voice timid and broken. The details of the arrangement are of little consequence now, but you find yourself questioning it all the same. Perhaps they have only both ended up here by chance, and if so, is that the best possible outcome of all?

Lips thinning straight, it's a sort of forced smile that barely ever comes through, and Minho breaks eye contact once you present the question to him like he is aware that nothing he has to offer you will ever be enough.

The brush handle rattles against the glass once again, the sound sharp and jarring, bothersome to your ears now.

"He reached out to me," Minho says plainly, "and for that, you have my condolences."

𝕀𝕏.

Two weeks go by without so much as a sighting of the man that lives among you. In that time, however, a letter finds you from your mother. Late in the morning on a particularly dreary day, Mai comes to you in your study and hands off the envelope with a gleeful smile, seemingly thrilled to be offering you something instead of your husband.

"I was hoping that they would write to you soon," she says. "The early stages still require much conversing between the Master and your parents, but it's good that they have found the time to reach out to you now, as well."

"Yes, very good," you reply, forcing the sound of pleasantness through the words. You wonder if she knows about your meeting with Minho not so long ago, if she has been informed of your snooping and the knowledge you gained therein. "Thank you, I'll read it quickly."

Mai takes her leave and you are once again left to your things. Your finger slides beneath the flap of the envelope and pulls the seal apart, nimbly releasing the letter inside from its confines. Heart beating rapidly and not knowing what you will find, you attempt to steady your anxiety and land your eyes onto the page.

The words penned across it are happy ones, and that shifts your nerves at a sudden pace. She expresses her joy at all of the things your father has informed her in regards to his constant speaking with Minho; how well things have been going between the two of you, how worried she had been at the possibility of otherwise, and how proud she is of you. The words feel empty and as if they are not meant for you—how could they be? There is no truth held inside of any of it.

Once finished, you slip the letter back inside and tuck it away beneath your manuscript, opting instead to turn your attention towards the garden that awaits you just through the dampened window. Rain lightly pelts it, a calming sound that is very much needed in the aftermath of this reminder. 

Recalling your conversation with Minho in the atrium, you hone in on the specifics of it now. In particular, his stoic interpretation of this combination between the two of you. It was not he who intended to seek you out, and rather, the both of you share the difficulties of age and societal expectations that have been casted upon you at birth. A loveless marriage it is, convenience, even; but circumstances that the both of you are flattened beneath the pressure of.

You had once wished for him to be a man with no interest in you, and that is precisely what you have been graced with. Minho does not care for your presence, does not wish to spend time with you or converse with you in any way that people who share a home tend to do. This is what you had wanted for, so then why now does it feel so rotten to be on the receiving end of it?

A flash of lightning in the far off distance comes to pass, and it is at that moment that you come to your decision: you will make your way to the atrium once more.

𝕏.

Shadows flicker and dance across the darkness of the walls and bookcases lining the crescent shaped sides of the atrium, seen long before you reach the topmost step. There is no sound besides faint rustling, and the occasional, familiar clinking of wooden stick against glass rim.

Minho is there.

You reach the top and find him; on his knees and hunched over not unlike your last meeting in this place. His shoulders and back flex against the tightness of the white blouse that holds him, deceptively firm muscles that you are only now able to see from this angle. He stills briefly, silent acknowledgment of his knowing that you are there, but carries on with his task for a while before bothering to utter a word.

"You shouldn't be up here."

An expected warning, but it does little to deter you. Instead of turning back, you continue forward, towards him, and stop only a few more strides away. Distance given out of the goodness of your heart, and because you accept wrongdoing in ever having come here in the first place.

"Why?" you ask.

With busy hands, Minho remains fast at work, splashing blues, pinks and purples across the white canvas. His features do not twist or contort in any sort of way that one might expect from tortured artists who suffer at the hands of their crafts. Quite the contrary; he appears at ease, calm and collected in this place that is meant only for him and the creations that pour from his skilled fingers.

"For no other reason than it being my working space, and working spaces must be maintained as such." He pauses finally, drops the bush into the water sitting just beside and then looks up at you through messy, loose strands of black hair. "It is no place for conversing, especially if you wish to fight with me like before."

The reluctance in his voice, almost pained in the way that he says it, has your eyebrows pressing together with rather intense confusion. While it is true that you had been far from pleased with the discoveries made the first time you made your way up here, to call it something of a fight feels rather excessive to you, in hindsight.

"I wouldn't say that we fought, can you blame me for feeling the way that I had felt then?"

"Not at all," he admits with ease, "but you shouldn't go through my things, and you shouldn't raise your voice at me in regards to matters that are just as much out of my control as they are your own."

That rubs you wrongly, and your eyes narrow as a result of it. "They are not equally out of our control. You desired a woman to live idly in your home and that is what you received. I desired only the smallest allowance of time in order to get my surroundings back on track, and in the end, what I received was nothing more than being the aforementioned idle woman."

Minho sighs heavily, then turns back to the canvas in front of him. "How many times must I apologize for that? It's not as if I had known when the inquiry was sent to me that you would be so displeased. Is it not enough that I do not force you to engage with me?"

"That's not—"

"I ask nothing of you," Minho continues, a newfound pointedness to his voice. "I do not request your company in any capacity, no expectation of you to entertain me in any way. I do not bother you, I do my best to stay out of your way. Anything you desire, it's yours. Money, gifts, luxury cloths or even the most expensive art pieces from all across the globe…any of it can be yours, should it suit you."

His voice wavers as he reaches the tail end of his words, and the weight of it hangs heavy on your heart. Minho sounds sad, defeated in a battle that he hadn't even bothered to take on. 

Then, he looks up towards you again. 

"If a lover is what you wish to have, you may take one. I understand the difficulty in meeting people so far out in the countryside, but I'll see to it that the staff will accommodate your needs in any way."

Once he finishes, you stand silently just off and to the side of him. Your stares towards one another rest in the balance, you anticipate him saying more, but the words never come.

You frown at him, just slightly.

"What do you know about me?" you ask.

The question seems to take him aback, eyes widening slightly at the suddenness of it being presented towards him. His eyes fall from yours then, cast around the floor between you as if the answers sprawled out somewhere there. Eventually, he accepts his fate, and looks back up towards you.

"I…I don't know. Nothing, I suppose. Not beyond what your father has told me throughout our correspondence."

"My father knows nothing about me, not beyond the perfected image of daughterhood that I am expected to present. You know all about expectations, don't you, Mr. Lee?"

His watching you continues, but no words dare to be uttered by the man.

"Perhaps instead of holing yourself up here your whole life, you come down and do what is expected of you." Turning back towards the stairs that brought you here, you begin your descent down—one, two—and then pause to turn back for your final parting words.

"A man is expected to be seen by his wife, is he not? To talk to her, to know things about her, to learn. More than that, a husband is expected to do all of that, and even more. I refuse to allow you to use my invisible presence here as nothing more than a story that you can tell people while you're away presenting your art pieces. You wanted me here, and so I am. You will have to do better, because I have nothing left to lose, and the humiliation of returning home from a failed marriage is a far cry from the things I have already endured."

Minho does not reply.

𝕏𝕀.

The next morning, just as any other, you maintain your routines.

Exiting your bedroom, your feet pad along the floor one after another—simple slippers that adorn them, keeping your toes warm—the sound of it is one that you have now grown accustomed to, the echo as it carries through the emptiness of the estate.

Thankfully, as you draw nearer to the lowest level and towards the kitchen, the gentle music of other inhabitants fondly make themselves known to you. Scents mix in as well, cinnamon and coffee and vanilla all whirled together in the air that you can't help but find peace amongst it all. When you enter, you are greeted brightly by Mai, as well as the other housekeepers lending their hands to ensure a seamlessly run ship.

You offer your thanks, and head along your way towards the study. The door hangs ajar, just as you always leave it. No concern for whether or not Minho will make his way down and curiosity will get the best of him upon catching sight of your belongings; a man who has made it more than clear that he holds no such fascination in you.

The large seat situated in front of the window awaits you. Today is sunny, the short rain that tells a tale of spring soon to come, having since passed during the nighttime and bringing after its having gone bright skies and pristine white clouds. A good day, a nice day. You sit, opening the drawer inside of the desk and pulling from it the notebook that holds your manuscript. So many years of work, so personal and encompassing everything that makes you. 

With your back towards the door, you only vaguely hear the sounds of Mai's hushed utterance from just within the kitchen. Some exclamation of surprise, though it disappears with the same swiftness that it seems to have caught her. Perhaps a bug, or a misplaced knife settled within the wrong drawer—anything could be the case—and for that very reason, you brush it off and focus instead on the pen and paper before you.

Then, there's a knock at the wood of your door.

"Yes?" you call back out at it, unsure of what the housekeepers could be wanting from you. Your typical routine with them has been more or less concluded, no obvious reason for anyone to be looking for you now. "I've not finished with my first coffee yet, I'll come when I have, you need not wait on me and worry yourselves sick."

"Does the Lady of the house have a moment of her time to spare?"

Before you can so much as fathom it, your body whips around and you nearly wholly twist in your chair to look back at the place that the masculine voice has come.

As if what awaits you there could be anything else, anyone else; Minho stands in the small crack of the doorway, barely enough for him to fit half of his body through. He does not dare attempt it, waiting outside for your word of affirmation. His face is downcast, looking up through eyelashes at you like he is doing something entirely wrong of the both of you. Anticipating being turned away, expecting to be berated for having the gall to make such a brave attempt.

"Y-yes, of course, come in!" you reply, biting back the eagerness in your tone at the end of the sentence. Suddenly, you become painfully aware of the space around you and how unkempt you have allowed it to be. "I apologize, it's something of a mess. I only come in here to do some small tasks to keep myself busy and then I leave so I don't think much of keeping it tidy."

Minho steps inside, though the effort is barely there. Two steps into the room, and then he stops; looks around it like he has never been here before. Eventually, you come to understand that he is not so much looking at the things he keeps and rather, that he is avoiding eyes that belong to you.

"It is yours, you may keep it as you wish," he says. His hands dance between being cradled in front of himself, to similarly behind his back. Forward again, thumbs craned into his pockets, then out and to his sides—strangely, uncomfortably. He does not know what to do with them. "I apologize for intruding on your time like this, I—" he pauses, stops looking around once he realizes he has seen all that there is to see, and then has no other option than to look at you. This action is short lived, however, eyes quickly falling to the wood beneath his feet. "I believe that you were correct last night, in your assessment of me and our arrangement. For that reason, I want to make an effort. I want to…do what is expected of me."

Silence blankets the room, his eyes cast upwards again; "If that's all right, of course."

"Yes, yes of course it's…what I would prefer, I think." Once again, excitement that betrays your unwillingness to give too much, too fast. Even if he weren't looking at you, the glee would be heard in your voice. "At the very least, an effort made to get to know one another on a more personal basis. We may never fall in love, may never become lovers…it's impossible to say if we will ever even become friends, but I think it best for the both of us if there is some level of acquaintanceship here."

Minho nods once, swallowing so hard and through a throat so dry that you swear you can hear it. "Understood. Though I must say, I do…" he trails off in thought, returns to it only moments later, "I still intend to spend the majority of my time in the atrium, for work. I must insist that even with our new arrangement, you do not come up there. I will instead…make myself more common down here, or if you request my presence—not that I suspect you will—please inform Mai, and she will retrieve me."

"I accept these terms, but in the inception of such, it is only fair that I forge those of my own."

Eyes widening in shock, Minho seems surprised by your candor. Though you do not know him well, one thing you are thankful for is his seeming unwillingness to abide by much of the traditional social construct that exists around the expectations of the way that men and women are meant to engage with one another. You speak loudly and brashly with Minho, a man that you barely know, and he accepts as much with grace. When he wishes for you to not engage with him in such ways, he calmly asks it of you, rather than demands it through authoritarian fear.

When you wish to push back, he takes a step backwards of his own in order to grant you the space to do so.

"That indeed is fair," Minho agrees, a barely-there smile curving into the corners of his lips. "What does the Lady seek?"

"We have a meal together, most days. Breakfast or dinner, it is of no particular consequence to me. I do not know if you prefer the morning or evening hours, but based on your artistic habits and the dark circling beneath your eyes currently, one can only assume that breakfast is out of the question."

Your own smile perks up, and along with it, Minho's widens. He turns his head, looks over in an attempt to find the nearest reflective surface. Only a silver vase, his face coming out all wobbly and distorted as he looks at himself against it. The truth of your words is still found, however.

"I accept," he says. "Dinner. Let's have dinner together tonight."

You grant him a nod, and he cumbersomely turns towards the door to take his leave.

"One more thing," he adds, paused perfectly within the doorframe but choosing not to look back at you. "Perhaps we should…prepare for the conversations that will be had. It would be awfully unfortunate to waste our time together among the dead of an otherwise quiet night."

Charmed in all of the most fascinating and incomprehensible ways, you see straight through the veil that Minho has attempted to hold up. A million questions run through your mind already; regarding him, this estate, his work, where he has been, and you cannot fathom the possibility of him not experiencing the same. Rather, the second likelihood swims within your thoughts, humorously intriguing, and serving as the catalyst for your ability to begin putting the pieces of him together into something far more recognizable.

Lee Minho is reserved. Locked away in the countryside and borderline cripplingly timid in the face of anything new and not easily understood—made sense by the dabbing of colored paints onto a canvas, dragged and splotched into something that his eye can really and truly see.

Later that evening, Mai and her staff spend far more time and effort preparing a meal than is truly necessary. You worry to yourself slightly watching the lot of them hustle about—there are only two of you, after all—but Mai insists each and every time that she finds the concern spread across your features that she is actually quite thrilled to be doing something such as this for once.

"The Master does not have company often, and for that reason, does not frequently take a proper meal in the evenings," she says, delight dripping from her voice.

Comically to you, however, is the fact that Minho is here and seated at the table across from you already; spoken about as if he is not even in the room. You look him over when Mai admits as much and his features pan, somewhat pained by the truth of it all, you suppose.

"I'm busy in the evenings, more often than not, you are well aware of this, Mai."

"That's no reason not to allow us to have some fun in this kitchen." Her fists ball up at the tops of her hips, and then a handful of other staff begin making their way over to set dishes atop the table.

"You shouldn't say it like I don't permit you to do so," Minho says. He glances up at you briefly, as if to gauge how you're taking all of this. Worried you might think him to be an evil ruler of the manor. "You can, it's just—"

"Wasteful!" Mai finishes with a knowing nod, and then disappears from your side of the table altogether. Her next words are spoken from quite a ways away, down the hall and out of the dining area. "Enjoy your meal! Call for us if you need anything!" she says.

And then the room is silent.

The smells of roasted chicken and glazed vegetables quickly beckon your attention. Buttered dinner rolls in wicker baskets and already poured glasses of wine await each of you. The serving of food has already been completed, your plate piled high with items that drown in delicious looking gravy and topped with garnishes. 

You reach towards your wine glass, and make short eye contact with Minho along the way.

He clears his throat, shuffles uncomfortably in his seat after it, and then picks up his eating utensils.

"Some men," he starts, then waits, like he isn't sure that it's so much of a good idea, "some men can be strange about the types of food, or the amount, that their wives eat."

You continue staring at him, because what is the point of this?

Minho reaches for his glass, takes a large sip from it. "Uhh, I'm not like those men, so please, have your fill."

"Are you informing me that I am permitted to not go hungry for appearances?" you ask flatly.

"I—" he begins, short and cut off, not sure where to go from here. "Yes, I suppose that I am. I just wanted to be clear, in case there was cause for concern."

"With all due respect," you say through a light chuckle, "we're in the middle of nowhere, and I've not left the estate since I came. Who am I really intending to impress?"

Minho does not respond to that. He seems to be willing to relent to the conversation at just about any turn, which amuses and also confuses you. Watching him, he cuts into a piece of potato and carefully puts the chunk between slightly crooked, off kilter front teeth. Sort of charming, one of those quirks about a person's appearance that grows on you over time.

He looks up at you suddenly, then takes another sip of the wine.

"What do you do here? How do you spend your days?"

That is unexpected, though you can't quite pinpoint why. Perhaps it is the brashness of finally asking something so quizzical, so personal; a true attempt at learning something about you in a way not before seen or expressed by him. You do not answer right away, nor does he press further. Only the scraping of silverware against fine porcelain is heard throughout the space for entirely too long.

Might he think you strange for your habits? Is he someone safe to tell?

It's worth the chance, and you will yourself to be unbothered by any negative reaction that he may have.

"I…um, I'm writing a book," you say, steadying the tremble that punctures the words, "I do a lot of writing. In the mornings I wake up early, have my breakfast, and then I write in the study by the garden."

You remain nervous about Minho's reaction, but for no discernible reason you come to find. His eyebrows perk up, attention rapt by what it is that you've said. "A book? That's quite impressive, how long have you been working on it?"

"Oh, many years." Stumbling through the strangeness of his sudden exhilaration, you attempt to maintain your composure. "It is something of a memoir, so I have been collecting moments of my life for as long as I can remember."

Minho shakes his head, evidently stunned by such a possibility. "Writing is such a magnificent craft, everyday I wish that the gift of language and written word is the one that had come to find my hands."

"Painting is an incredible art, so few people are creatively capable of mastering the concepts of color or line like you have. Anyone literate can write a sentence."

Minho looks up and the two of you meet glances. It is a moment shared between people who have a newfound understanding amongst one another, and as a result, it feels special; magical. He smiles slightly, and you can't help but match it, too.

"Well, anyone can scribble color onto a canvas, but I think we both know well enough that there is much more that goes into the arts than that," Minho says, a newfound casualness that you feel as though you have only just unlocked to his tone. "Are you looking to publish someday?"

"I think I might like to, if the opportunity were to arise." You stop, reconsider the content therein, and correct for that. "Anonymously, or under a penname. Not my own."

He nods in acceptance of that, then takes another bite of food with his vision cast down towards the plate. In times like this, Minho reminds you of a small child, poorly socialized and unsure of how to move about the world with other people in it. He tries his best, has only the best of intentions, but it never quite feels as though it's enough.

Little by little, you're peeling through those layers. All things considered, so far, the journey isn't half bad.

"I'm pleased that we've decided to do this," Minho says, focused solely on pushing the broccoli around on his plate idly. "Spend time together, I mean. Getting to know one another."

Thus far, perhaps there is a part of you that cannot help but agree.

𝕏𝕀𝕀.

New routines unearth themselves throughout the estate.

Spring washes over the land in waves; flowers in their fullest blossom, live with color and birds that joyously scour the land for new perches to rest their tired wings atop. The trees fill in once more with lush greens and fruits that begin to fill in along the firm branches.

Minho makes himself more often seen throughout the manor corridors, though often brief and insistent on his having some other place to be. You learn not to take it to heart—his insistence in giving himself an out of the conversation—as it would seem that conversation with others is not a skill that comes naturally to him.

Still, you appreciate the effort. Some mornings, Minho slinks down the stairway and into the kitchen, long before his usual rising hours, and asks you about the agenda for your day. You often do not have much to offer him, but Minho watches on as you fill him in with his chin cradled in his hands and eyes that sparkle under the barely breaking dawn that washes in from the windows. He always smiles; somewhat crooked, with one side pulling ever so slightly higher than the other. It isn't a lot, but for now, it will do.

The month is April, and out of the study window you find Minho tending to the garden.

The outside grounds are not well traveled by you, partially on account of arriving to the countryside in the dead of winter. Now that the breezes have warmed and the snow has melted, it's as fine a time as any, and you carry yourself off towards the side door in the kitchen to take your first few steps into the garden that you have adoringly watched all of these months.

"Decided not to keep yourself cooped up in there, did you?" Minho asks playfully, only briefly glancing up towards you from his bent and knelt position in the turned soil. His hands are dirty—no gloves to be seen—but his forearms flex and pulse with strength as he rips at weeds and digs his holes. "People are going to start to think I don't permit you to leave."

"People? What people?" you reply. "Even my own parents have grown bored of writing to me. I don't think you live in any fear of what the people might think. Perhaps they assume that we are wildly happy together, no interest in sharing that with the rest of the unworthy world."

"Aren't we?" Minho says, chuckling lightly. 

You make an effort to ignore the question, as well as the way his muscles all appear taut and well attended to beneath his moistened white shirt. Minho is a good looking man, in ways that are a little surprising to you and even in spite of his lack of social character, but even as your husband, he is a stranger. A man that you now live with because it is nothing more than convenient for the both of you, not someone to be lusted after.

Hyunjin comes to mind suddenly. Every time you find yourself missing the touch of a man, it's him that torments you still.

"Of course." You make an effort to ignore the thoughts, and change the subject. "I didn't know you had an interest in gardening. Perhaps I wrongfully assumed it to be something kept up with by the staff."

"Wrong indeed," he says, wiping at his forehead with the rolled up sleeve of his shirt. His skin glistens under the spring sunlight, hair collecting the moisture of his face within its strands. 

You are only lusting after him in this way because you wish to be touched by a man again, you barely even know him, you reason. Some reason.

"It's something I picked up a good many years back, when I was shoved deeply into the success of my career. I spent even more time locked away with my work and my paintings, if you could even believe it," Minho says, smiling at himself at the memory of it all. "So, I had to find a reason to get out of the house. Not too far, or for too long, but something. Additionally, I enjoy the act of creation…" he pauses, picks up a small vegetable bulb and holds it up for you to look at. "What's more creative than life?"

You smile, wide and with teeth in a way that you don't remember having done in such a long, long time. Minho laughs at your reaction, and then carries on burying the plant into the ground as originally intended.

"You like to play God in the garden, then?" 

"I wouldn't say that."

"What would you say?"

Minho looks up, a surprisingly thoughtful expression etched into his features, as if really, genuinely giving the question an ample amount of thought. "I would say that I like to create!"

A beat of silence passes between the two of you, and Minho continues on with his task. You cock your head to the side, watching him quietly as he moves as if an incredibly bizarre exchange hasn't just taken place. The truth of the matter, you know without so much as even having to ask, is that the discussion is more than likely not strange to him, at all. A perfectly fine chat, nothing out of the ordinary.

Naturally, in the midst of moments like these is when Minho seems most at ease.

"You're a bit odd, Mr. Lee," you say. Calmness is heavy in your tone, marking down the potential distaste that might otherwise accompany such words. "Do you often hear that?"

"Yes, but my oddities and eccentricities are what make the mind tick, the art work and come to life. If I were anything other than myself, who knows what may come of it. I'd rather not find out. Oh, that reminds me—"

Setting his tools down and wiping his hands uselessly on his brown trousers, Minho pauses all of his toiling about to give you his full attention for the words that he is intending for you. His face appears somewhat disappointed, but there's something else mixing within the emotions that you might easily name that you can't quite pinpoint.

"At the beginning of the summer, around June or so, I will leave you to carry on with a showing. I will be gone until autumn time, perhaps November…it will be cold again when I return."

Your stomach drops, and that feeling shocks you.

"Of course, the estate is yours to do as you see fit, and you may leave it as frequently as you wish, too. All of the staff will be yours. It is all yours."

Your lips thin into a frown, and as it would seem, the reaction surprises Minho. He looks up at you in confusion, and perhaps quickly works through the thoughts by himself, because his eyes dip down and away from you, unable to share his gaze with your own with how displeased you appear.

"I'm going to be alone here…for months…"

"Well, you won't be alone…" he says quietly, offering nothing.

"We've finally begun the process of getting to know one another in a meaningful way, and now you're leaving until autumn…it'll be as though we're strangers all over again when you return."

"Surely it won't be that bad…" Minho forces himself to give you answers, but none of them quell the feeling that presses against your chest. "I'll return before you even notice I'm away. For a long time upon your arrival, it was as if I wasn't here at all."

"And I hated it!" you reply quickly, brashly. The words come out loud and honest in a way that you have not intended. Your eyes sit wide on your face, and finally, Minho slowly looks up at you again with eyes not unlike your own.

Neither of you speak for a long while, until Minho sighs and has no other option but to do so himself.

"I apologize, I…did not anticipate that you would feel this way about it, but nevertheless, there is nothing that I can do. This is a part of my work, I often must leave to do such things. The year after this one will be no different, and if it is, then the futility of fame and the fickleness of the human intrigue has finally caught up to me." He quiets again, continues trying to wipe the dirt caked onto the skin of his hands off and onto his pants uselessly. A pointless endeavor. It feels not unlike wanting to be loved. 

"I can…try to come home sooner, at the tail end of things. Sometimes it wraps up earlier than anticipated," he says, looking away from your disappointed eyes. "I've not bothered to rush home before, with nothing waiting for me. Not to imply that you are…waiting for my return…"

"I would like that," you say, simply put. "Suppose then we should make an effort to make these last two months together count, yes?"

Minho doesn't look up at you, too socially strangled to do so. It's not necessary, however, because the small perk at the corner of his mouth as a result of what you have proposed says plenty.

𝕏𝕀𝕀𝕀.

"Another lovely dinner, thank you, Mai."

She nods to Minho kindly, accepting the compliment, and then finishes up her small cleaning tasks to head out and away from the dining area. You look out and across the living room at the large window that leads into the garden—not unlike your study—and bask in the way that the moonlight shines down onto the glistening, wet leaves and petals that have since come to bloom.

"Have you been out yet? In the evening, I mean." Minho turns to you when he says it, notices where it is that you've been looking, but you shake your head.

"No, too busy with my writing, I suppose."

"You'll find an excuse forever if you allow yourself to, come on, let's go."

Minho doesn't touch you, but he waves his hand towards you and then back into the direction of the side door that leads into the garden. You follow along without much argument, wanting just as much to see what the grounds have to offer you, and perhaps now is as good of a time as any.

The nighttime breeze is cold, and you are not at all dressed to be traversing it with only a thin shawl draped over your shoulders. Immediately upon stepping down and onto the cobblestone pathway your arms fly up to cradle yourself, attempting to hug back the warmth that escapes. Minho seems far less bothered by the pricking of cold against his skin. He is never dressed in anything special or extravagant for as long as you have known him; a plain, white button down shirt with brown, fitted pants suited for not much more than becoming dirty without a care. 

Regardless, you push through. It is not often that the two of you partake in anything other than a dinner, or a coffee together. Two people so wrapped up in their own things that they nearly forget about the existence of the other. You make an effort—Minho is getting better over the weeks—but only so many hours in a day.

The two of you slip around the gray, brick corner of the home; grand in its stature. As far as the eye can see sit beds of flowers, ornate bushes, and the shining droplets of rain from earlier in the day that still collect on each. It's a beautiful sight, the way that they twinkle, and when Minho turns to look back at you, a rare and wide smile pulls at his face.

And then it falls.

"Are you cold?" he asks, concerned and rushing towards you instead. "You should have said something, only now do I realize that you're not dressed for the evening breeze."

"I'm fine, really," you insist, something of a lie with the way that you tremble. He must not be thinking clearly, too wrapped up in the sight before him to thoroughly consider all of his options. Minho reaches for you, presses smooth, warm palms to your arms and runs down them carefully before grasping gently at your wrists and pulling your body against his. He wraps his arms around you—he is firm, both in body and embrace—and he smells like the strangest combination of paint and cinnamon.

Indeed, you are warmer now.

You are not unfamiliar with the touch of a man, and it is not that in particular that dredges up the nervousness in your stomach. Rather, you have never shared a touch with this man, and this man is the one that you live with, are married to. You wonder if it is only natural to have considered the possibility of wanting him; handsome, smart, kind, who wouldn't at the very least enjoy the fantasy of such a thing.

But never to touch.

Minho's hands, surprisingly strong and confident, inch down your back to pool at the small of it as distance is created between the both of your bodies. You crave the kind of intimacy that being like this gives you, but still it feels wrong when it comes from him. Accepting this arrangement as nothing more than a marriage of convenience cements certain ideas for the remainder of your time with this man, and one of those, unwaveringly, is that love and love making will be strictly absent from it.

Yet you enjoy the way that he touches you now.

In the dark of night, and just outside of the manor, Minho pulls back from you slowly and it's like this that you are finally able to see him up close, the tiny, charming intricacies of his face otherwise missed due to proximity. A small freckle on his nose, the ever so slight crookedness to his front teeth that—while you have noticed—are so much more handsome and real like this.

His eyes sparkle looking at you, and there's a pause before anything more happens. In your mind, you beg. Loudly asking for that which you seek, no matter the outcome. You can deal with that when it comes, and perhaps you don't even know precisely what it is that you desire from him now. Still, you beg; please, please, please…

Minho's eyes fixate on yours, and then drop down, down, to where your lips sit. His own part, as if with intention to speak, or a desire to taste, one you prefer far more than the other. He does neither, however, finds eye contact once more, but his fingers grasping harder into the loose fabric sitting at the small of your back sends chills down your spine in a way that the meeting of your lips might not even manage.

Do you want, Lee Minho? Do you crave, as well?

"We should go inside," he says, a whisper that shakes. His gaze finds itself fixated down towards your lips again, and all concern aside, you want in that moment for him to have you. "You're not dressed to be out here, you'll catch a cold."

If Minho has ever desired you, even for a moment prior to this, never has he shown so much as an inkling of it. Now, he stands unraveled, pulled apart and bare for you to see. You wonder if he aches, you cannot help but wonder whether or not the need will be sated.

"Yes, let us do that," you answer, but only because you should. No part of you wishes to find warmth within the walls of the estate. 

The following weeks bring a sort of comfortable bliss to the previously cold, ominous interior of the home. One morning, however, that all changes.

Early mornings are warmer now than they once were, each passing day cutting through the chilly breeze. The grounds come to live in lush greens and colorful petals; you've even begun taking trips out of the countryside and into the nearest, small town. It has little to offer besides functional necessity, but leaving the estate is a breath of fresh air that rejuvenates your senses.

You hope to make that journey today, but first, there is work that must be done.

The manuscript is coming along, words filling each page like they've always meant to be there. With your coffee in hand, you make your way towards the study that keeps your things like an untended vault. Secrets hide inside, but no one dares to seek them out—or so you thought.

You push the door open, and what you find is nearly enough to drop the cup from your hands and to the floor completely. Your heart stops similarly instead, and for a brief moment, you cannot believe your eyes.

Minho looks up at you from inside, standing by the desk from which you often work. In his hands sit all of your deepest, innermost secrets. Things you wish not to share with him now, perhaps ever, but the look on his face is one of someone who now understands everything.

He is difficult to read from here, his feelings incomprehensible from just what his features have presented as the two of your eyes meet.

You rush inside, though the damage is done, you know. "What are you doing?" you ask, making little effort to mask your feelings on this matter. Once you reach him, you snatch the pages from his hands and shove them back inside of the drawer from which he got them. "That's not yours to read!"

He does not respond right away, and instead, the room fills with a heavy silence. Minho's hands drop slowly to his sides as he watches you, lips pulled thinly across his face. He appears neither angry, nor sad. He has the appearance of nothing, at all.

"I only wanted to understand you better, get to know you more than what we already have, I thought…" he trails off, eyes falling away from yours, "I thought this to be the best way, suppose I was not mistaken."

You don't dare make an attempt to find his gaze, not looking at one another. It's better like this. Anger bubbles up inside of you, as well as the humiliation of everything that has led you to this point, to this place with him. "So, now you know. Now you know everything."

"I don't…" Minho starts again in response, once again there are words that he cannot seem to find with the same sort of urgency that he needs them. "If it is some concern about my feelings on the matter, I'm unbothered by what you've done, by your history."

"And why should you care?" you ask, the words coming out biting and spit like a kind of venom. "We are not involved in this partnership in any typical sense of the word. This is a marriage of convenience, and convenient it shall remain." It feels bad when spoken, as if betraying your own self-interest. What you feel it to be instead is the most logical course of action given the circumstances; neither serving you nor your heart as far as any potential, budding relationship between the two of you is concerned.

Minho's eyes dart up at that and find your own, but you continue on. "A wife for show, am I not? And for show I will continue to be. No one else knows, you will never experience the same sort of humiliation as I have, if that is your concern."

"It's not." His face twists at the words you've said to him. "That couldn't be the furthest thing from my concern. Do I come off as someone who loses sleep over the opinions of people?"

There's more fight in his voice now, something you're not used to hearing from him. It rattles you, but only slightly, because you are not frightened of him or what he may do. Rather, it serves as a sort of reminder of just how little you appear to understand about him. Most men, most husbands, in these situations would be livid, and demanding of the dissolution of a partnership from which has been built upon deception. This, however, would seem to be far from Minho's interest.

"I would be dishonest if I said that I didn't wish you had told me, of course I do, but I am reasonable enough to understand why you have not," Minho says. "You have lived a whole life before ever having met me, your path leading you elsewhere. That is neither my business, nor my concern. My concern is…"

He does not complete the thought and instead turns away from you once more. Minho makes his way towards the door of the study, but gives pause just before making his exit.

"I am to leave in a week's time, perhaps the space will do us well, after all."

The reminder of all of the time that you will spend by yourself hangs grossly dense inside of your heart. Everything about this feels so wrong, not as it was meant to ever be. Birthed from some incomprehensible place is the desire to beg him to stay, to not leave you here alone despite knowing that he cannot. So much progress has been made between the two of you, only to be spoiled by this; left to fester for the summer months, and you cannot fathom a scenario in which he returns having missed you now.

𝕏𝕀𝕍.

When Minho leaves for his trip, you do not bid him farewell.

Instead, you watch from the window of your bedroom as bags and canvases are piled into the carriage. Minho, Mai and the rest of the staff all smile and say their goodbyes—you can't help but wonder if he wishes you were there alongside them.

It is unimportant. What must be done carries on regardless, and Minho sits himself inside, the carriage pulls away, and down the pathway he eventually disappears; not to return until the leaves on the trees begin to color and fall away with the soon to be onset of winter air once more.

You wonder if you will miss him, only time will tell.

The passing months bore you, and offer you little to placate your wandering mind.

Summer is in full swing, it comes and works its way to closing before you have much of a moment to enjoy it. You make many trips into town to partake in the fresh bakeries and even engage with the folk who enjoy their lives there. They seem happy, you can't help but wonder what that must be like.

Though the manor had been lonely upon your first arrival, there is a stark difference between then, and now. The knowledge that Minho was there—somewhere—within the halls somehow serving as just enough of a comfort to take the edge off of the blanketing nothingness, now gone; and worse than that, you do not know what awaits you when he will return.

Mai offers you kindness, and that is appreciated, but her dedication to her job makes it so that the line towards friendship never truly becomes crossed. You have not seen your parents, and they do not write to you as often as you might like them to. Tzuyu has sent a letter or two, but they are as infrequent as the others, as she is busy with the courtship process herself after the announcement from the prince.

Seven days into September, there is a knock at the door.

Sitting in the vast living room area, surrounded by old paintings, books and other such decorations, the sun begins to set on the home and the summer heat finally starts to wane. The book in hand—one Minho had recommended before his departure—is one that tells the tale of an old painter who traveled all around the world, and gifted a canvas of his art to every person that he met along the way. You wonder if this is the life that Minho wishes for, you wonder if eventually, you will be left behind for good as nothing more than another collectible that he has accumulated inside of the estate.

"Miss…" 

Mai comes up from behind, wringing her hands strangely, unlike anything you've ever seen from her before. Nervous. "You have a visitor."

"I do?" you question, reeling. You are not expecting anyone. "Who is it?"

"I think it might be best if you come quickly."

She has never appeared so concerned to you, and thus, you make haste to follow her and trust her word. The strides past the kitchen and through the small hallway are quick and long, there's a kind of worry bubbling up inside of you. All of the worst potential things begin to muddle your mind; what if your parents have passed away and someone has come to deliver the news in person? 

But turning into the foyer puts a different kind of nail into a different kind of coffin.

Three men stand in the doorway, one on each side of the person intended to be the centerpiece of their arrival. A simple, loose black shirt draping over broad shoulders and a thin, lithe torso, cinched at the waist and carelessly tucked into the matching black trousers there.

He nearly gives the appearance of someone normal, everyday. Just a spot above Minho's own, usual look. Fascinating, the way your mind instantly moves to compare the two.

"Hello, darling," Hyunjin says. Then, he turns to his guards. "You may go."

You feel Mai's eyes on you, and quickly turn to acknowledge them. "Please, leave us."

She nods, and you can only imagine the questions running through her head. You have not a clue how you intend on ever addressing them in the future, but there are many things that you do not understand yet in front of you.

"Your Highness," you say, and then begin to take your bow. Hyunjin steps forward with a gentle scoff, and quickly waves the display away, instead setting his hand atop your shoulder as he moves past you and into the direction from which you came. 

"That's not necessary, let us leave the theatrics of royalty for the streets, where the people might see them, shall we? I think we are a long way away from requiring that between us."

And so you do. The two of you make your way back into the common area of the downstairs and each take an end of the lengthiest couch. Hyunjin sits leaned forward, hands clasped together and resting against his knees. His hair is still long and dark, you thought he might cut it to relinquish such a boyish, juvenile look, but you find that has not been the case.

"I must admit," he begins through a sigh, "I was a bit taken aback when I heard who it was that you ended up being married off to."

"Yes, well, suppose I experienced much of the same when it came to you," you reply curtly.

To that, Hyunjin smiles slightly and stares down at the floor between his feet.

"Fair play. Unfortunately, there are certain expectations…"

"Was everything a lie? Did you never have any intention of marrying me? Did you never love me? If there are expectations then surely you knew when we began our private affairs what could come of it all, so why…"

"It's not so simple," Hyunjin says slowly, turning to look at you now. "My parents have the majority of say in who gets chosen. How lovely it would be if falling in love were enough."

You look at him, but frown. The possibility that the choice be wholly out of his hands is not one that had ever crossed your mind, too busy cursing him for a choice that may have never been his to begin with. Your eyes rake over him, his face; and perhaps there is something of a sadness behind his eyes if you dare to give him the grace of seeing it.

"Where is Sana?"

To this question, Hyunjin sits back with a heavy, loud exhale. "At home, perhaps shopping with her friends as she tends to do. Where is Mr. Lee?"

"Away for work, until the end of autumn."

"It must be lonely, being cooped up here in the countryside alone for so long."

"I…" you hesitate, unsure of how much of yourself you wish to indulge in a man who has already hurt you so gravely in the past. "I make do."

Looking towards you again, Hyunjin's gaze is heavy and narrow, full of a silent contemplation that he has not yet shared with you. Talking to someone that you know so well feels comforting, welcomed. You feel at home. He is disarming.

"Does he suit you?" Hyunjin asks.

You hadn't thought about it in such simplistic terms before. Does Minho suit you? you question yourself in your mind again.

And then you give one, single nod. "He suits me enough, I suppose. Our partnership is a bit…unorthodox perhaps, but we find joy in each other's company."

His eyebrow perks up at that, catching the hint of something unspoken hidden between the words.

"Is that so? A loveless marriage then?"

You scoff, shifting uncomfortably in your seat at the mere mention of it, regardless of how much truth there may be in the statement. "I think loveless makes it seem so much more harsh than it is. I believe we have begun to care for one another in some fashion, over the months. We talk, we have meals together—"

"But he doesn't make love to you."

Stilling your awkward movements, you slowly turn to look up and meet Hyunjin's curious gaze once more.

"No. We've not…reached that point in our relationship, if we ever do." Your eyes fall away. "Surely you are familiar with marriages of convenience, and that very much is ours. We are both at peace with it. Minho is kind, he is accepting of my interests and allows me to do as I please in order to maintain a sense of self, I couldn't ask for more."

As if taking your words as an invitation, Hyunjin slowly begins making his way down the length of the empty couch and towards you. A wry smile tugs at his lips, and though the better part of you knows better than to entertain the possibility of whatever it is that this man may have to offer you, there does still remain the wicked loneliness of a woman who misses—craves—the adoring, wanting touch of a man who desires her.

You tell yourself to create more space between your bodies as Hyunjin comes near, to stand to your feet, to ask him to leave. You are not frightened of him, not an ounce of concern laden in you that he may wish to take something that you are unwilling to give him; no, the horror lies within the fact that you very much do wish to give to him.

Hyunjin's hand finds your leg. The touch is light, tentative and testing. You do not pull away.

"That is no way to live the rest of your days, my love."

It should be harder, you imagine, to give in to his whims. The consideration should weigh heavier on your chest, not handed over so easily once his lips find the skin of your neck, and shortly thereafter, your own. Hyunjin's hands smooth up your legs and beneath your dress, laid back against the sofa. He hovers over you with long, black hair that curtains the both of you inside of this moment. Unsure whether or not it is right, or wrong. For him, the answer is a simple one, but suppose these sorts of things are commonplace among men of a royal standing; after all, who exists to cast down judgment upon them?

His touch is electric against your skin, even more so with the first, slow press of himself into you. You gasp at the feeling. Indeed, you have missed this more than even you had known.

Still, you think of Minho.

When Hyunjin takes his leave once more and bids you farewell, new thoughts and feelings run rampant through your mind as you smile and wave down the cobblestone walkway. Perhaps there had been a kind of truth in his words—that this is no way to live forever—but you cannot fathom any other way, either.

Falling into Hyunjin's touch is easy because it is one that is so familiar. The same motions repeated time and time again and to a kind of perfection, however; something is missing, something that you cannot quite put your finger on.

𝕏𝕍.

The weeks continue to draw on, as does the day of Minho's return in November.

Leaves begin to change their colors, falling away from the branches that they once called their home. The flowers litter the ground, browning and dying to spring anew in the following year. It reminds you of your first arrival upon this place, though snow covered the land then. Not yet has it fallen for the first time this season, but soon it shall.

You keep busy, trying to put out of your mind the happenings in his absence. It is of little consequence to you what has happened in Hyunjin's brief visit, and perhaps the worst part of your soul considers it a kind of unearned payback towards a friend who had taken everything you had hoped for from you. It is unfair, not the kind of person you wish to be, and you put the thought to bed just as quickly as it comes to you. You do not expect to see him again, and in kind, you decide to never delve in such foolish and unbecoming behaviors regarding him even in the event that you do.

Written off as closure, there is some semblance of peace therein. 

On the day of Minho's return, the house is alive. The keepers of the manor all rushing around to ensure that everything is precisely as it should be for the moment that he steps inside; it fascinates you to watch them, knowing full well that Minho is not the sort of man to be bothered by the occasional, misplaced item or a spec of dust left upon the mantle. Of course, this is their job, and they take it upon themselves to make sure that it is done to the best of their ability. You wait just inside the foyer as good wives do when his carriage pulls up, and the quick, anxious beating of your heart comes to be a far more unexpected guest than the man of the hour is.

The doors open and he enters. Two other men are with him and aiding with his belongings, a sight that reminds you of Hyunjin's visit, and you are none pleased by that fact. Minho is dressed differently than you are used to seeing him; far more put together, and with a heavy coat sitting atop his shoulders. Hair less unkempt, it makes you wonder if someone had their hand at his appearance before he left to begin his journey.

He greets the staff first, those that arrived with him handing off his things, and then, he turns his sights towards you.

"Welcome home," you say, fighting back the shake of your voice. "Was it a good trip?"

"It was, but long. Too long for my liking," he admits with a smile. "I'm happy to be home, and not looking forward to having to do much of the same next year, but we'll take it as it comes."

The two of you step towards one another, and to your surprise, Minho takes your hand into his.

"How have things been while I've been away? Hopefully not too dull."

His eyes are gentle as he looks at you, and there is a part of you that wonders if he even recalls the events that took place only just before his embarking. If he does, he shows no signs of it; only a captivating adoration for you.

"Things have been fine…good," you say with a nod, eyes forcing themselves away from his own. Your nervousness and secrets catching up to you, making themselves known within the room. "The days passed as they do, I took many trips into the small town down the way, worked on my book…you've not missed much along the way."

You can feel Mai's eyes on you as you tell the half-truth, and for that reason, you continue on. Perhaps a wild assumption that you would be able to keep this large a secret strictly under lock and key.

Squeezing his hand lightly, you smile ever so slightly at him and say, "We should talk, there are some things. It would be best that way, once you're settled in."

"Of course, I only need a short while. A rinse off and a change of clothes from being cooped up in travel for so long, and then I'm all yours."

Pulling his hand away to attend to his things, you wish deeply to hold on tight—afraid that this may be the last time Minho ever offers you such a genuine, cherished moment.

Later into the afternoon, the changing colors of the sky can be seen through the windows. Hues of blues, purples and oranges that decorate it so beautifully, informing all of those who can see it that the sun is soon to take its rest along the horizon.

You stand in the kitchen, a bowl of fruits sitting before you. Apples, cranberries and persimmons give off their assortment of shades to choose from when Minho quietly makes his way inside.

Eyes meet, and smiles follow after.

Minho's hair is damp from water, strewn about his head and face, entirely uncared for in appearance. He is back in his usual attire; pants with paint stains that not even Mai has managed to defeat, but that function perfectly well as far as he is concerned, you reckon.

Leaning against the counter beside you, he pops a cranberry into his mouth and then cocks his head to the side inquisitively. "You wanted to speak to me?"

Moments like this make it so much harder. You'd not wanted to disclose this to him in any case, but have since decided it better to do so. The guilt weighs so heavily on your chest—has ever since the day—and you wonder if it is selfish to put that onto a man who does not need to carry the burden. Minho is your husband, yes, but in title and legality alone. He has given you permission to carry on as you please, explicit permission to take a lover if that is what you so wish to do; so why is it that having done so feels so regrettable?

This is not a situation that you have ever found yourself to be in before, and thus, you do not know how best to navigate it. You are not one to mince words, however, and so you make the choice to simply come out with it.

"While you were away, Hyunjin was here."

Minho's chewing slows, all softness in his face melting away once the words finally come together as something that he understands the meanings of. "Here? He came here?"

"Yes, to see me."

"He came here…to see you…" Minho says slowly, thoughtfully. "If he knew to come here, then surely he must know that you've been married." He pauses briefly, thinks it through just a bit more before continuing. "As has he."

You nod affirmatively and then say, "Yes, all of this is true. He wanted to see me…I think…there was something of unfinished business between the two of us, as you know with the way that things turned out. It was a brief encounter, he was not here long. I do not think we will meet again in the future."

Minho looks at you tentatively, and you can nearly see all of the questions that beg to be asked swimming around behind his eyes. Surely, he fights back the urge to do so with all of his might for your sake alone, and instead chooses to stomach the brunt of this knowledge by himself, no matter how much discomfort it may bring.

But you do not escape them all.

"You say the encounter was…brief," he starts, though his eyes are unable to meet your own as he presses forward with what he must know. "I have little interest in prying into your personal affairs, I understand what this is—between us—just as well as you do, but I must know; did you—"

"Yes."

Rather than making him say it, you put an end to the entire thing abruptly. Minho blinks through the acceptance of it, a little awe struck, you can tell. He gives two, small nods and then swallows down hard.

"Thank you for telling me," he says. His voice is level, but you can tell as well as anyone else might that it is a facade. Minho turns towards the hallway and says, "If you don't mind, I have work to attend to. Have a good evening."

He does not appear outwardly angry or upset in the ways that you are used to men expressing such emotions, and thus, you are unsure of what to make from all of this. You watch him take two, three steps towards his exit before you rush around the corner of the marble counter and towards him. A hand reaches out towards his arm, but you do not dare make contact—unsure of what may happen if you do. Minho does not scare you, nor has he ever shown aggression, or violence towards you, but you must at all costs aim to protect yourself in such precarious circumstances.

The movement must catch his attention and he stills in place, seemingly waiting for you to reach him. Minho turns to look at you from over his shoulder, unwilling to fully give himself to your insistence of such.

Your chest feels impossibly tight, the struggling burn of discomfort creeping up and into your throat. Are these tears that threaten you? Why, you wonder. You care for him, yes, but there is little between you, and in most recent times not much more than some sort of contention. What is there to care for? And more than that, when has this man ever bothered to express as much towards you?

Still, you press forward. "Are you upset with me? It was thoughtless, but you have said before that I am able to do such things. Don't punish me for the allowances that you have offered!"

"Punish you?" Minho says, tone questioning. "I have no interest in punishing you for anything that you have done in my absence. Your personal matters are your own. If you wish to sleep with the prince then who am I to tell you not to."

"I do not wish to sleep with the prince! I wish to sleep with—"

It comes out faster than you have the chance to pull it back. Dripping with pure emotion and absolutely unbridled truth, you manage to cut it off at the tail end, though you fear that the damage has been done. The heat of humiliation curls up your spine, you take a step back and away from the man in front of you.

Too much silence creeps up between the two of your bodies, and Minho offers nothing to you in the immediate aftermath of the words. Wordlessly, you beg him to say something—anything—to cut through it, even if it is condemnation that sits at the tip of his tongue.

Much to your surprise, however, Minho turns back to face away from you fully with something of an awkward shift to his stature. He does not look at you, but the more that he chooses not to, the less you believe it to be a sign of displeasure and more so one born from a kind of strange unsureness of how to move forward, where to go with this from here.

He clears his throat loudly, one by one cracking the knuckles in his fingers as if to fill in the empty space between your bodies. Finally, he says, "Perhaps we simply move on from this, as if nothing ever happened. In any case, I'll be in the atrium, should you need to find me."

A curious thing to say from the man, one that has you reeling in shock upon hearing it. 

"Is that…an invitation?"

And to that, Minho sighs aloud.

"Must you make me speak everything into existence? Surely you've noticed I lack the capabilities for these sorts of things."

It's not perfect, but you'd not expected to leave this particular discussion with a smile pulling at your lips.

𝕏𝕍𝕀.

The atrium smells of cinnamon, paint thinner, and alcohol.

Rum, in particular. You're not able to make out its particular scent until you're much closer to the man that it emanates off of, pungent and impossible to ignore. You try to recall any other time that you've been aware of Minho's drinking, but you cannot.

Tonight must be a special night for him to be partaking.

There's a soft spot in the wooden paneling of the floor, and it creaks beneath your weight. This is enough to finally alert Minho of your arrival to this place, having not noticed you before. He glances at you from over his shoulder—not unlike the hours before—and then carries on with the mixture of colors that have already been dabbed onto the bristles of his brush.

"You came," he says.

"You drink."

Minho sighs at your response. "You know this, we have shared wine at the dinner table before."

"Yes, but not like this."

Hunched over and knelt onto the floor, Minho ignores this and instead continues painting. You opt out of pressing any further on the matter and instead, bring yourself to his side in order to see what it is that he is working on.

The canvas is wide rather than tall, with hues of blue, white and green masterfully splashed across the majority of it. The beauty of the ocean and the waves that live within it perfectly captured in time by his hand—a small ship depicted amidst it all.

"I spent some time by the harbor on this trip, and spent a good deal of my time there thinking about how my life might be if I ceased to exist here, the way that I have been, the way that I do."

You look down at him, but he does not look up. He continues with his work.

"The truth of the matter, is that there isn't much keeping me here, is there? Not much would change. I could be anywhere in the world doing this. No reason it must be here."

"Is that why you painted this? Your wish to escape it all?" you ask.

Minho stops his strokes, then drops his paintbrush into the muddied mixture of water just beside him. He stands to his feet—albeit wobbly—and stares down at the piece of artwork as if it's something not crafted from himself. A strange existence that has somehow found its way into his home, into his thoughts, but not of his own doing.

"I'm not sure that I even wish for it," he says. "I'm unsure of a lot of things. I make decisions largely because they are expected of me, because I see what everyone else does, and so I emulate it. It's easy to assimilate like this, I don't have to think about it all that much."

"Like taking a wife."

Minho looks away from the painting then and over towards you. You meet his eyes, but feel a sense of nervousness under the intensity that sits behind them tonight. 

"It has always been difficult for me to set my anxieties aside without the aid of warmth that the bottle brings. I don't partake often, I know it's unhealthy, so I keep to myself and suffer alone." Minho's hand reaches towards yours, and while you're happy to allow him to take it, that is not all that he does. Quickly you feel the gentle tug of his strength, inching you closer to him. His warm, soft palm tracing up the outside of your arm until it disappears behind your back to rest there. Now the scent of alcohol is strong on his breath, but you cannot find it within yourself to care when proximity is so tightly held between you.

Minho's finger traces down the middle of your back, an action that sends chills up the very same place. You fight back the shudder that threatens to shake you while in his grasp, and your own hands find their placement at the front of his broad, firm chest.

The alcohol indeed must be making him brave, lowering his inhibitions and the torrent of thoughts that otherwise might bar him from ever attempting this. For that, you are thankful. You glance at his lips, then up at eyes that are already watching you. Minho's thoughts and feelings are nearly indiscernible on his face; still thinking, thinking, thinking, no doubt.

He leans in towards you, so short and small that you nearly miss it entirely if not for how rapt with attention to him you are. A tentative gesture to test the waters, to see if you will pull away.

But you will not.

And so, he presses forward again, slowly still, as if to give you ample time to escape him. You couldn't imagine yourself a world where you might; heart beating hard and fast within your chest in anticipation of this, fingers gripping tightly into the fabric of his shirt with each passing second between the two of you. Truthfully, you have been wanting this, for so, so long. Longer than you could ever fathom to allow him to know, the kind of dull, anticipatory, hopeful desire that rests dormant often, but never completely able to be ignored.

It's hard to pinpoint the moment in which Minho became more than just a concept of a husband in your mind, muddied even more once his lips finally find your own. Careful and warm, he kisses you like he's afraid to break you, but the hand gripping at the small of your back tells a different story; one of forced back desire, of bitten back need. It presses your body more firmly against his, it informs far more than his words will allow for now. 

When you do not create space, the kiss becomes heavier too. Testing, unsure lips that at first only ghost against your own then expose their want for you in the careful turn of his head and ever so slight nips of teeth at the bottom of your lip. Harder, faster with every moment that passes in the atrium; you forget to breathe and gasp into his mouth, Minho finally relents in tasting you so ravenously.

Physical desire is nothing new to you, but never have you experienced it quite like this.

Minho's free hand comes up to cup your face, thumb grazing lightly against the skin of your cheek as he looks at you. Both just slightly out of breath, you can't fathom how wrecked you appear just from a kiss.

His lips part as if to speak, and then close shortly thereafter. Once again; thinking, thinking, thinking. The alcohol is incapable of disposing of it all. Then, they part again, and Minho pushes forward with the words that fail him so frequently.

"Do you still love the prince?"

The least that you can do is answer his question honestly.

"I don't know."

And though it may not be the ideal reply, Minho still appears pleased by it. Everything that you have learned about him since your arrival here points to the very same conclusion, because he smiles ever so slightly, and gives a small nod in acceptance.

𝕏𝕍𝕀𝕀.

Though not spoken of, the kiss lives on in every interaction shared between the two of you going forward.

You wish deeply for the conversation to come to a head, but by now you know Minho and the way that he functions well enough to know that that will more than likely not be the case. Still, you manage to find solace in this fact; his nervous mannerisms and the barely there catch in his voice when speaking to you on occasion, as if the memory of such has just caught up with him in real time. You smile through these instances, pleased by them in some capacity. Pleased knowing that it is not a thing that has simply come and gone.

The only person that Minho answers to in his life is his agent, and his agent insists on having a holiday party at the estate.

On the day of, it is a week into December. Snow has begun to fall, though not heavily yet. It sprinkles like sugar from the sky, only lightly dusting the windows and grounds. It is a beautiful sight, but you're thankful for not having to be the one traveling within it, and when the guests start arriving, you realize just how grossly unprepared for this volume of guests the home truly is. Not enough coat racks, not enough space for wiping off their shoes. Hats are placed wherever it is that they can go; Mai scuttling about the hallways with her staff in an attempt to make it all work.

To your surprise, Minho makes himself seen. No doubt a push by said agent, but his displeasure at doing so resides heavily within his stature.

First laying eyes on him is a sight to behold. His hair is more put together, set into place purposefully. He wears all black, but the front panel of his coat is garnished with the sparkle and shine of dark jewels that bring it to life. It's a little unlike him, you have to admit, but Minho wears it well.

Quickly, you finish up a conversation with people that your husband barely knows, that you have barely been partaking in, and go to him. He, too, is amidst something of the same, though handling it far less gracefully than you have.

You put on your widest smile, and curl your arm firmly around his own from the side.

"My sincerest apologies," you start, tone dripping with a sweet edge, "I'm afraid I must take my husband from you, if only for a brief moment."

The man smiles and nods happily, understanding of whatever situation it is that you've made up in your head in order to rescue Minho. It's late into the evening and you've not been keeping a watchful eye, but the smell on his breath of alcohol is one that you're quite familiar with, and disappearing into the halls towards less-traveled passages, you can't help but wonder what this instance has in store.

Minho drags along, but doesn't say a word. He stumbles slightly once, you try not to ascribe it to his drunkenness unfairly. You have just the place in mind, and once you reach the old, empty study at the far, opposite end of the hall, you push Minho inside lightly, and then close the door behind.

"Are you rescuing the damsel?" Minho asks, cheeky and with a smile. "Was it that obvious?"

"Only to someone with the eyes to see it," you reply. "I know that you don't enjoy these sorts of busy situations."

"One might say I hate it, in fact." Minho steps towards you, and you take a step back. Only there is nowhere left for you to go, and your back is up against the door from which you came. "Indeed, I much prefer quieter moments of peace, just between myself and another…"

His hand finds the outside of your thigh, only the thick layers of your dress between skin. He closes the space further, as much as he can, until his body is pressed tightly against your own. You've been holding your breath—for how long? you wonder. A sharp inhale takes you, though it's ragged and shudders at the feeling of being with him like this. Everything that Minho offers you feels white hot, regardless of the clothes that keep you separated, and when his mouth finds the line of your jaw, you cannot help but melt into the touch.

You ache for him. A dull throb that makes itself known, impossible to ignore. His other hand snakes around your waist to pull you closer—as if closer is physically possible. You could beg for him to touch you elsewhere, drunk with want not unlike his own intoxication.

"I don't care if you love another man," he says suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere. The abrupt mention of Hyunjin sends something of a cold chill to your otherwise hot skin. "I'm happy that you're here, I love having you here…" His lips are still lightly mouthing against the flesh of your jaw, voice low, nearly a whisper. "I love…you. Even in the event that you love another, that is of no consequence to me. Not really."

Desire has waned, flushed away quickly as if it had never even been there. You gently push Minho away so that you can look him in the eyes, but all that you find is the slightly drunken, but incredibly sincere glean looking back at you.

"You're drunk," you say, rejecting his advances for this to go any further. Now is not the time. "You always say and do such things when you're intoxicated."

"Do you assume me to be more intoxicated than I am so that you don't have to acknowledge the words?"

You don't respond to this immediately. Minho does not deserve to be told a lie, and thus, you say nothing.

He continues on. "In the atrium that night, you assumed that I was making poor choices, outside of the realm of my own logic? Things that I would never do just because of the drink? And then now, you think the same? Do you truly believe that, or is it easier than the words? Because no one understands that feeling better than I do."

"Is that why you drink, then? To say and do all of the things that you can't do when you're sober?" You scoff lightly. "You can't drink through every step of your life."

"I don't, I won't," Minho says firmly. "Think of it more…as a coincidence."

Stepping towards you once more, Minho closes in on you all over again. His lips mere inches away from your own as he gazes down at you.

Then, the door opens from behind you, and he pulls it open to fashion himself an exit.

"If you don't believe me, then you're more than welcome to nurse my hangover in the morning hours, since you'll be awake!" he says loudly, far too cheerfully for everything that's gone on. 

You smile at him, and hate that you do. This annoying, eccentric, strange man that has buried himself so deeply beneath your skin. An unshakable, ineffable and unquantifiable shine to his mere existence.

Minho disappears back down the hall and towards the guests that await him, nearly skipping as he does so. You watch from the doorframe, make an effort to steady the quick beating of your heart, and replay the words over and over again in your mind; unremittingly.

"Good morning, darling."

Bent over the kitchen counter, chin perched up against your palm, you cock your head and smile at Minho as he slowly, carefully enters the shared space. Eyes narrow, like any light pains his entire being.

"Shall we take you for your bath, then?" you add, walking towards him and circling your arm around his.

A light steam rises from the water as Minho's sore body sinks into it. You reenter just moments later with a set of clothing in hand, and sit yourself just beside the porcelain tub to aid him in his recovery.

"You shouldn't drink so much," you say, obviously.

"I know," he admits through a groan. "Every time I do this, I say it'll be the last. Then another social event comes up."

"There was no such social event in the atrium that evening."

"Sure there was, you were there."

Silence falls between the two of you in the following moments, and you watch as Minho closes his eyes, sinks his body deeper into the water to the point that only his head sticks out from the top. You take it upon yourself to lightly remove strands of hair stuck to the dampness of his forehead, and then, Minho inhales with intent to speak.

"I apologize for last night, as well as for the evening in the atrium. I apologize for…parts of them, but not everything." He pauses, eyes still closed, but forces himself to continue on. "The truth is: I do not care about your history with the prince, no matter how recent it has been. I understand there is a complexity there that I may never be able to grasp, nor do I think it necessary for me to do so. What is necessary of me—as your husband—is to be kind, understanding, and perhaps if there could be space for it; loving."

You still completely, allowing the words to wash over you and sink deeply into every crevice of your being.

He speaks again. "Suppose what I had hoped for; some starry-eyed, hopeless romantic sort of expectation in all of this that was left unspoken, is that regardless of your feelings for him, your history with him, that you might still find space in your heart to someday love me too."

An immediate reply escapes you, and you lose sight of just how tortuous such a wait can be until Minho cracks one, single eye open and peers at you cautiously through it.

"Please, say something. Put me out of my misery, if you must," he says.

Your senses come back to you quickly, shaking your head in the negative. "No! No, Minho…have you truly not noticed? Let us not forget who it was that insisted upon the two of us becoming more than strangers who share a home together…"

"Living with strangers is, well, strange. You could have meant anything by that."

You try not to roll your eyes, but fail. Instead of pressing further on this particular endeavor, you decide to revisit the original one, as brought forward by him. The entire thing remains fascinating to you—the density of his capability to understand things that come to you with such ease.

"I probably can," you say, acknowledging his hope for the openness of your heart. "I probably do."

Minho closes his eyes again, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The tension that collected at his shoulders amidst all of this falling away like weights strapped to him. You are calmed watching him unravel before you.

"Let us share an evening meal tonight, something special. Think about all of the things that you wish to say to me in earnest, and I will do the same," you offer quietly.

"I would like that."

𝕏𝕍𝕀𝕀𝕀.

Minho enters just as the large, antique clock begins to sing its tune of nine in the evening.

Candle light flickers against the walls of the dining room and illuminates the table where all of the dishes that Mai has hand crafted herself sit. A beautiful display, though hardly what you're taking an interest in tonight.

He takes his seat across from you, clears his throat gently, and averts his eyes as much as he can until it seemingly dawns on him that he cannot do so for much longer. Reluctantly, Minho looks at you, and though his appearance is not unlike his usual self, something new makes itself apparent within him.

Mai comes over and pours your glass of wine, then makes her way around the table towards his. However, Minho does not accept the gesture. Watching you the entire time.

"You're not having wine with your meal?" you ask.

"No, I've decided to come off it, at least for a time."

"For a time?"

"This time."

Surprisingly confident and almost sinister sounding, Minho no longer makes an effort to avert his eyes from you and as a result, the weight of them rests heavily on your form. There is a sort of humor to this, you find, desiring nothing more than for him to see you for so long and now feeling as though you should shrink away from beneath his gaze. Why is he looking at you in such a way? Why is it that you feel like prey?

You steady your nerves and smile. "Well, there will be other times."

"Do you wish to remain married to me?"

Your attention pulls towards him quickly and with a confused earnestness. "What? Why are you asking me such a thing?"

Minho leans forward against the table. "We agreed to have this meal together and discuss such things. I think…I have not done much to aid in the ease of your comfort here. I think we have grown a lot together, maybe even enjoy our time shared. Perhaps it is time that we decide on just how much of a married life we wish to have with one another. Thus, do you wish to remain married to me?"

"Is there really an alternative?" you question, somewhat humorously. "Of course, marriages have ended before but we hardly meet the sorts of societal requirements for such a thing."

"You have not answered my question," he insists.

You press your palms abruptly to the table, fed up by his ridiculous pushing on the matter.

"Yes! I wish to remain married to you! My goodness; we've shared meals together, our thoughts and dreams and hopes for the future together, intimacy together! As if I've not made it clear where I stand on the matter while I drag you along through all of this kicking and screaming the whole way…you don't exactly make it easy on a woman!"

"So you are happy."

"Yes!" you quickly bite back.

"Content."

"Yes, Minho!"

"But you want more," he continues on, the rapid fire back and forth between you now mounting the anticipation of where this is meant to go.

"Of course I do!"

"You desire more of me."

"Yes!" you reply, exasperated by the questioning but barely even having a moment to register what's been laid out before you. The affirmation slips out from your lips unwillingly, but it's too late to bring it back. Instead, you watch Minho's eyes narrow mischievously as a result of the grin that tugs at his lips. He must be pleased with himself.

"We should eat." Hardly convincing when you say it. Still, you pick up your utensil. "The food will get cold."

"We can eat any time," Minho says, still playfully persistent. "Is there anything that you wish to ask of me?"

"Yes! What has gotten into you?"

"You, us; the concept of it, the possibility of it." Minho pushes his chair back then and stands, makes his way around the table and towards you. He takes your hand gently, timidly, and pulls you up towards him. Protest dies in your throat before you have the chance to make it heard, because his hand slips around your back and as a result, your body rests flush against his. "Admittedly, I am slow on the uptake of such things. My thoughts get the best of me, second guessing every interaction, every word…" He trails off, the hand at your back slipping to settle at your waist, and then it tightens. "Every touch."

Minho's face dips over to the side of yours, lips edging at the shell of your ear and then he whispers against it, "But you say you want more of me, more that I've not yet given. More that I can give."

Your head swims, warm breath tickling your skin in such an enticing way. Minho's grip against you does not relent, nor do you want it to. You've quietly yearned for what appears to be now presented before you; his touch, and in ways, so much more than that.

"I've still not seen where you sleep," you say quietly, pointedly. "Only ever the atrium."

"Some husband I am, making my darling wife wait so long for such a thing." Minho's hand then slowly falls from your waist down to your hip, then further more to your thigh. His palm settles atop the front for a short moment before he then continues the journey between them, bunching the fabric of your skirt where his fingers rest. "I've not been doing my due diligence, have I?"

Knees nearly buckling at the touch, you clutch onto him by the shoulders, breath hitching as you attempt to answer him. "No, you certainly have not."

This is your best attempt at maintaining composure, but truthfully, you stand in his grasp, disoriented with want for him. Minho's lips graze your jaw, teeth bared within a smile. He says, "Allow me to make it up to you, then."

The large, ornate door to his bedroom closes, and with no more time to waste, Minho's hands begin to artfully search for the flesh of your body.

His lips hurriedly find yours, as if the only thing he ever wishes to taste is within them. Fingers adeptly unfastening the buttons and clasps of your dress while you, in turn, do much of the same at those that hold the fabric of his shirt in place. The race is won by you, and your mouths part only long enough to remove the hindrance from his body—but he follows just after—and your garment falls away, exposed to the ambient chill of the room, though not for long.

Minho leads you with a gentle urgency back towards his bed. There's a haste behind his motions that alludes to a dormant kind of desire that has been held inside of him for far longer than you have been aware of, not at all unlike yourself. As your back finds the mattress, Minho follows you over it; mouth only leaving your skin for the briefest of seconds before finding it once again.

Your legs fall apart to fit his body between them, and his hand slips beneath your last remaining undergarment soon after. Deft fingers that glide between your folds, ample pressure that has you gasping into his mouth for him to drink down and arching your back up to meet the firmness of his chest. Minho smiles against your lips as you do so, slowly and methodically unraveling you for his own viewing pleasure.

He pulls back, slinks down the length of your body and trailing his lips along the way. Warm, wetness circles at your chest before he continues further down.

Hands grip firmly into the plush flesh of your thighs, prying them apart for him just that much more. You glance down, but cannot stand to look at the sight of him; his face mere inches away from just the place that you wish for him to touch again. Minho does not leave you wanting, perhaps he cannot bear to do so, and his tongue finds you, mouth pressed flush against your own lips. The gasp that escapes from you is horrid, far too telling of how much you've been wanting to have him like this. 

Minho pulls off of you, but his dominant hand finds the place he has only just left instead. The wetness pooling is nearly humiliating if not for the comfort that you feel in his presence, and his fingers delicately trickle downward further, carefully driving into you. He watches your face as he takes you apart just that much more, but you do not have the sensibilities to muster up much for words.

"Do you like this?" he asks, the first words spoken since entering the room. The press of his fingers against you is slow, rhythmic, testing. Before you find it within yourself to respond, his mouth reattaches to the place just above where his hand works you open.

Yes falls away from you, though you're not sure how you've managed it. It appears to please him, however, and he continues on with a newly found enthusiasm. He pushes deeper, and a moan escapes you with every drive. A sheen of sweat collects atop your skin, strands of hair matted against you, fingers curling tightly into the sheets beneath your grasp.

Your skin prickles, warmth spreading across your body and muscles stiffening as he continues on. Breaths to take in become shorter and faster, the grind of your hips against the way that he works your body less and less within your conscious control. You slip a hand down between your legs, gently carding fingers through soft, black hair. His fingers curl inside of you, and as a result of it, so do yours atop his head. A whimper slips out from between your lips, and following immediately after, come the desperate pleads for him not to stop.

And he has no intention of doing so. Minho does not stop until your pleasure peaks and ravages your body within his hold. You shake and cry out; wounded gasps and moans that avalanche from you thoughtlessly, the only thing that you can manage through this feeling. Once satisfied, he slows to bring you back down gently, and once delicately seated, he removes himself from you and the bed entirely to finish the act of disrobing.

Chest heaving with exhausted breaths, you nearly miss his doing so, only alerted to the fact once the bed dips again, signifying his return to you. Minho crawls between your legs and up the length of your body just as he did the first time; kisses your chest, your neck, your jaw, only to then settle atop your lips. Teeth faintly find the bottom of your lip, already well and truly bitten raw from your own abuse. Still, you reach up to feel the warmth of his skin under your hands and revel in the way that his body feels against your own. Though release has found you once this evening, you are not truly satiated by him yet.

Minho's hand slips down between both of your bodies to hold himself in place. You feel him against you; wet and solid, enticing and teasing. You move almost involuntarily against him, hopeful to receive what it is that you desire from him now, but he is unwilling to relent to your neediness just yet.

You gasp lightly against his mouth, and Minho happily accepts it into his own, delighted by the way you come apart beneath him.

"Have you thought about it before?" he asks, a coy whisper shared only between lovers. A question that does not require further expansion, for you know precisely what it is that is being referred to.

"So many times," you reply.

At that, Minho begins the slow, precise drive of himself inside of you once more. "Apologies for keeping you waiting then."

He sinks into you, body accepting him with ease. Minho's mouth hangs slightly ajar as he does so, taken by the feeling, and settles momentarily once his hips meet flush against your own before his hips pull back and he repeats the process once more. The thick drag, hard and strong is dizzying and nearly disorienting to your senses—your fingernails dig into his skin, and for the first time, Minho groans with a sort of primal lust that has the hairs across your skin standing on end, and the fire inside of your abdomen burning just that much hotter than before.

With the ease in which your body accepts him, Minho is able to find a quick and strong rhythm. Harder and faster his hips find your own, the urgency needing this moment for so long finally coming to a head between the both of you. Your whimpers and moans echo off the walls, losing sight of the once prominent thought in your mind that the staff may hear you; instead, you beg and plead for more of him, anything that he is physically capable of giving you—he does.

Body tightening beneath him, you feel once again the familiar promise of release. Your hands glide over hot, damp skin; muscles that flex and move with every drive of himself inside of you. Minho kisses you—a sloppy attempt—but you meet it happily, and his face falls away to the crook of your neck to nip into the skin there. One, strong hand slips down to grip at your thigh, pulls you apart further and wider for him to work your body open with his own. Hard, methodical strokes; one after another, whimpers and whines punched out of you with each. You beg for more, continuously beg as if never satisfied, and Minho continues to give relentlessly to you until his own ability finally falters and gives way; rhythm shifting, failing, wavering. He hisses against your skin, choking out a pained groan, and you find your end just alongside him in bitten back cries and a final, deep sinking of himself within you.

Chests heaving and basking in the afterglow for many, long moments, he does not hurry to separate your bodies, and instead, his lips begin to work at the sensitive skin of your neck once again. You close your eyes to simply enjoy the feeling of this, of him, and hold tightly in your arms the man that has somehow come to be precisely what it is that you have always hoped for someone to become.

"Stay here tonight," he says quietly. "Don't go."

You smile, barely there. Mustering up all of the energy within your bones that you have left to expend and say, "I wouldn't dream of it."

𝕏𝕀𝕏.

The new year brings new cheer, as well as new prospects to the household.

It has been a year since you've been back to the city center, and though covered in snow and the dreadful darkness that winter brings, you feel some semblance of ease having returned.

You remember the days that you spent dreaming of being inside of these very same castle walls, though now that you're here, you can't help but feel as though they glitter less brightly than what it is that you had imagined.

Beside you, Minho stands with a forced and feigned confidence. He glances at you, perhaps having felt your eyes upon him, and offers a nervous smile that does nothing to placate your concern for him. Indeed, not all things change with ease—and some may never—but having the comfort of those who love you shouldering much of the burden instead. 

In arm, he holds a wrapped painting. One that you know well; a small ship atop a vast, brightly colored sea.

You hear the echo of doors opening from behind you, and when you turn, you are familiar with what you see.

Methodical clicks of shoes being the only thing that cuts through the silence, you watch as the prince makes his way towards the two of you—a smile on his face—and most certainly a genuine one. You've never known Hyunjin to be particularly petty, or mean-spirited; and despite all of his shortcomings, he likely does feel softness in his heart for you and the happiness that you have found.

"Your Highness," Minho says with an accompanying bow, but Hyunjin is quick to put a hand up and wave away the gesture.

"I do believe the three of us are well past the need for such things." Looking at you, Hyunjin smiles. "I see things worked out in the end, then?"

With half a mind to question how it is that he knows, you instead chalk it up to a sort of intangible, understood aura that simply exists between lovers; people who are madly, deeply in love with one another. You couldn't fight back the smile if you tried, and so, you don't. Instead, your hand finds Minho's free one, and you nod.

"Yes, indeed they have."

"Splendid news! Perhaps someday I will find myself to be so lucky," Hyunjin says, though there is a particular bite of discontentment in the words that you feel you understand far too well. "Nevertheless, you've brought the painting! I wish I could express in words how eagerly I've been anticipating receiving this piece…ever since it was put up into the auction, I simply knew I had to have it."

"I appreciate your kindness," Minho replies, squeezing your hand lightly. Just another, small offering shared between lovers.

"You will be paid handsomely for this. I am aware of what the asking was but I feel as though it is worth far more, and I'll see to it that you receive precisely that which you are deserving of."

Eyes widening in surprise, Minho glances first at you—but you merely shrug, unmoved by Hyunjin's antics—and instead, he defers to the prince, himself. "Your Highness, that's not—"

"Aht! It is. You creatives truly must value yourself higher, the world moves and exists and revolves around these crafts. Without art, we have nothing. We are nothing."

Hyunjin calls for his housestaff to take the canvas from Minho's grasp, and as they disappear down the hall, the man smiles widely at the two of you as if pleased with himself, with everything that has taken place today.

"Perhaps next in line is getting that book of yours published."

You shake your head, a sort of nervousness striking you that isn't commonplace. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea, you know, there is much of you written inside of those pages."

He waves his hand in the air again, unbothered by the fact. "So be it, I'd rather like being not just a part of history, but a part of art, as well."

"Strange fellow," Minho says, walking beside you through the city streets and long after having bid the prince farewell. "Not sure what it is that you ever saw in him."

The comment is pointedly comedic, and you judge him playfully with your elbow before responding in words. "He's handsome, and royalty. Suppose for a long time I didn't consider there to be much else outside of those things. What else could a man have to offer me?"

"As it would seem, only having one of those things is plenty to suit you," he jokes, slinging an arm up and around your shoulders as the two of you carry on. "You have been taken by my confusing whimsy and cumbersome charms."

"So it would seem," you reply, watching the sprinkle of shimmering snow collect atop a difficult, complicated head of black hair that you have incomprehensibly grown to love.

a/n: thanks for reading and i hope you enjoyed it! no pt. 2, and kind words are always much appreciated ♡

king’s play (m);

🎨 wc/pairing; professor!hj/f.professor reader (4,1k)

🎨 genre/content; college!au, fluff, smut: rushed, explicit & unprotected smut 

🎨 summary; shadowing your colleague as a new professor, you come to realize the reason why his classes are at full capacity within five minutes of registration

🎨 note; this is self-indulgent and i have no remorse you all are coming down with me.

Keep reading

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART II

Han x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle masterlist

Synopsis: You and Han become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (12,7k words)

Author's note: I had so much fun writing Han's season idk why so I hope you enjoy this one too! x

The party is in full swing.

Everyone is dancing and getting friction off each other, having the time of our lives by forgetting that everyone here is locked in this sexless retreat.

Han has his hand around your waist and you look over your shoulder at him, your eyes meet in an intense gaze. Your eyes drop to his teeth faintly biting his lower lips, getting curious of what it would be like to kiss those lips.

You drop your head against his shoulder and he leans in...

The music abruptly stops and the chime comes in. Everyone knows where to go whenever they hear it and off to the cabana we go.

All the fun and euphoria of the party seem to have evaporated once you are seated on the sofa and waiting for the boss lady to come.

The chime comes in again with her cone body flickering in purple-hued lights.

"I've gathered you all to remind you that this retreat is for finding deeper connections, not just physical ones. This information is not getting through to some guests."

As always, you can sit this one out because you haven't broken any rules yet but Lana sounds so mad and that puts you on edge.

"There has been a breach of the rules."

There's a dark cloud casting over everyone's head and you prepare yourself for what's coming, it's most certainly going to get ugly.

Asher reclines in his seat and glances at Gwen next to her, it's obvious that he did it.

"I don't want to say I lost you guys more money but..." Asher is stalling only to prolong the pain.

"Did you guys kiss or not?" Finn simplifies it for them.

Asher and Gwen exchange a look, then after a minute, Asher finally answers, "Yes."

"I thought we're here for the experience—" Gwen's words get cut off by Finn's loud scoff.

Gwen is only here for a day so it's not a surprise that she still has that mindset, that it's okay to break rules and have fun. She hasn't felt the consequences of her actions like the rest of the group.

"This kiss has cost the group $6,000."

"Mmh... brilliant," Sawyer lowly mutters.

"The prize fund now stands at $149,000," Lana announces the current amount of money in the pot.

"That is not all," Lana is not letting anyone breathe yet.

"What?" Nya gasps.

"Last night, there was another breach of the rules."

Last night, everyone behaved nicely but maybe that's just what it seemed to you. Again, you can't control everyone in here because the only one with that power here is Lana.

Mikaela is looking uncomfortable that she keeps playing with her earrings even though nothing is wrong with them. You dare to ask them, "Rio, Mikaela, did you guys kiss?"

Rio is quick to shake his head to deny it while Mikaela keeps quiet next to him.

"I'd rather speak up," Han lets his suggestion hang in the air for anyone to get the meaning of it.

"I mean..." Mikaela breaks out of her silence.

"It was an accident. We were showering together and I kind of touched," she pauses to avoid continuing her sentence.

Your jaw drops in surprise because that's just a stupid thing to do. They're struggling to take their hands off each other yet they had a shower together, it would be impossible for something to not happen in there.

"We thought it wouldn't be a rule break," Mikaela adds, in what is supposed to be her words of defense.

"It doesn't matter," Finn remarks with an annoyed look on his face.

You doubt that that's the only infraction they did in there and everyone seems to think so. You remind yourself to keep your tone calm to not upset her, "Mikaela, honey, is that it? Is that the only thing?"

Your question sends the tension soaring high but it's either they tell them the truth or face everyone's wrath. You hope they choose the former.

"We uh... we kissed," Mikaela meekly admits.

Indeed, they were aware of what they were doing and the repercussions of their actions.

"Rio and Mikaela, what you did goes against the rules of the retreat," Lana sternly remarks.

You just can't believe that they choose to act selfishly like this but you refrain yourself from talking, afraid that you'd say things you didn't mean.

"These rule breaks have cost the group $10,000."

Even Avery who's been Mikaela's supportive friend is looking just as disappointed as everyone. She has nothing to say to defend her and can only try to calm her down.

"I'm sorry, you guys," Mikaela apologizes with an exasperated sigh.

"The prize fund now stands at $139,000."

-

YOU: What are they thinking? Really? Lana is not stupid. If she said it's a rule break, it is a rule break.

-

When you think Lana is going to end this agonizing meeting, Lana continues to speak still not letting everyone catch a breath.

"Rio and Mikaela, you have broken the most rules since arriving at the retreat and have repeatedly broken the trust of your fellow guests."

You lean back on the sofa and reluctantly listen to everything, exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions Lana puts you in.

"You must now prove to them that your connection is more than just physical. You will face the ultimate test of chastity."

"Sorry?" Sawyer asks, afraid that she misheard what Lana just said.

"Rio and Mikaela, you must spend the night alone in the private suite."

Finn sarcastically laughs at that, "We're done. We're done for."

Nya looks at Mikaela and asks, "Are you going to do anything?"

That seems to trigger her that Mikaela starts to ramble, "I feel like getting negative energy, right now. We're being pointed and like... I don't understand."

Well, after what they did, it only makes sense that everyone doubts they'll pass this test.

"Please make your way to the suite," Lana orders.

And Rio couldn't take Mikaela faster to the private suite.

-

YOU: [shrugs] I think we're finished.

-

Han can't wait to sleep on it but he senses something as Lana is not letting everyone go even after Rio and Mikaela leave for the private suite.

This is supposed to be a good night for him, he told you about his feelings and it was well-received, then the party was fun.

It was great until he sees Lana's cone-shaped body. He puts his arm around to seek comfort from you and you rest your head on his shoulder right away.

"Forming meaningful relationships with people always starts with trust. My question is how much do you trust Rio and Mikaela?"

That is the hardest yet the easiest question to answer. Hard because Han trusts Rio so much, he's the closest to him amongst everyone else here but it's also easy because of what they did when they're together.

Han trusts Rio but he doesn't trust him when he's with Mikaela.

"Jeez..." Asher hisses.

"All they're doing is losing money," Finn says with a snide smile.

"If you decide to trust them and they pass the test, the $40,000 that has been lost so far will be returned to the prize fund."

Some are gasping and a few others are sighing in pessimism. Sure, $40,000 is a lot but everyone's concern is on whether Rio and Mikaela will pass the test or not.

"But if you decide to trust them and they fail the test, the prize fund will drop by a further $40,000."

"Nah, no way," Asher immediately responds with a head shake.

As much as Han wants to back Rio, he has as little faith as everyone that they'll pass the test. However, it's not just about their friendship, it's about money and the group as a whole.

"They got so much shit tonight, they're not going to do it," Gwen says.

But coming from someone who's only been in the retreat for a day, everyone dismisses her right away.

"They know they'll lose money if they do anything," Finn surprisingly takes Rio's side but Han believes it's because he wants the money back.

"Guys," Avery is taking her turn to speak now, "This is a real test. Watch them actually pass it."

Now that it's coming from Mikaela's close friend, everyone listens to her, and their minds slightly change.

"This is their chance of redemption," Avery concludes.

A moment passes as everyone tries to mull things over, deciding whether to trust that they'll pass the test or not for a chance to get a lot of money back.

In the end, it's being decided by voting.

"If you think that we should trust them, hands up right now!" Finn says.

Hands are rising to the air in favor of trusting Rio and Mikaela to not break any rules in the private suite. Han also raises his hand, going with the majority.

He then turns his head to see that you're not raising your hand along with Sawyer sitting on the other side of him, he respects that.

"Thank you. I have noted your decision. Goodbye," Lana ends the session with a grim closing.

-

HAN: I trust my boy, Rio so I'll ride with the majority

-

They're making a big mistake.

Yes, there's a chance to gain some money but they forget that they also risk losing more money for doing it. Anyway, you voted no and if things didn't go as they wanted, you wouldn't be a part of it.

You groan as Han puts his whole body on top of you, propping his hands on each side of your head with his face hovering only inches away from yours.

He flashes you that gummy smile, then leans in to whisper, "I feel like we're getting closer."

You put your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, pulling him close against your body.

"And we're getting a lot closer now," you playfully say back.

He buries his head in your neck and you can feel his warm breath fanning the sensitive skin, making you tingling inside.

You still feel the slight shock from the sudden confession he told you earlier in the bathroom and you feel the need to ask him if he was just saying it because he feels like it or...

"'I like you,' huh? Where did that come from?" You ask him with your hand on the back of his hair, ruffling it between your fingers.

Han pulls away to hover above you, he props his elbow against the mattress to support his head, "I like the fact that you're a bit silly like me," he says.

You scrunch your nose at that, "You're a whole lot of silly," you disagree with him.

"You're fun to be with, you're not taking things seriously, I... I'm enjoying getting to know you," he answers.

Han then leans in and presses his nose to your cheek, "How about you? How do you feel?"

You look away and pretend to think, "Uhm... you're alright, I guess," you add a shrug to tease him.

He drops his head into your neck as he breaks into laughter and tries to muffle it as everyone else is trying to sleep in the room.

"Well, that's what I like about you, you're so chill..." he compliments.

He looks at you as he continues talking with his hand playing with the strand of hair on the side of your head, "I've been pushing my feelings away but now, I gave in," he sincerely tells you.

You place your hand on his arm and feel his warm skin as you intently listen to him speaking his heart out.

"I admitted to how I feel and honestly, don't regret it," he finishes and brushes your hair away from covering your face.

It's heartwarming to hear everything he said and know that underneath that goofy layer of his, there's a part of him that is so pure and earnest, proving to you that he's not this cool guy he disguised himself him when it comes to someone he likes.

"I don't know what you want to do with it..." You try to articulate your thoughts into words but also avoid giving him the wrong idea.

"I think it would be cool to get to know each other and see what happens, see if something comes out of it," you tell him.

You're not trying to play his game plan back to him but you want to play it cool.

"Okay," he agrees with a sweet smile.

"You blew my mind, really," you tell him how surprised you are by his sudden confession.

"Well, I kind of want to blow you elsewhere but..."

You gently slap him on the arm and pull him, holding him close to wish him goodnight.

"Goodnight," he wishes back with a soft kiss on your cheek.

-

YOU: I do like Han but also, he did tell me that he liked Avery so... I don't want to get hurt. I can only hope that he's telling the truth.

-

Lana chimes the second the lights are on.

You groan as you force your eyes to open and squint to see the cone blinking in the middle of the room. You pull the duvet to your chest, waiting to hear what Lana has to say early in the morning.

"Good morning, everyone."

"Mmh... morning," You're slurring your words as you yawn at the end of your sentence.

"Are you feeling optimistic?" Lana asks, reminding everyone of the big gamble they did last night.

"I think we'll get the money back," Avery says, standing firm on her ground.

"Given Rio and Mikaela's history, you might be, as humans say, screwed."

Is Lana hinting that they didn't pass the test? You thought by voting no, you would be excluded from feeling guilty about it but you feel it nonetheless.

"I feel broke already," Asher groans as he tries to sit on the bed.

"I think they've got it," Avery says while twirling her hair in her fingers, looking not convinced by her own words.

You don't want to think about it but here we are, talking about it the moment you woke up and now you can't stop thinking about it.

You turn on the bed and put half of your body to overlap Han's, cuddling him as usual before starting the day. You look at his face and see that his eyes are closed, even with his face is slightly swollen and his hair is disheveled, he looks adorable to you.

You poke the tiny mole he has on his cheek, "Morning, goober."

He takes your hand away to kiss your plan then puts it across his chest, "Let's sleep for another five minutes," he mutters with eyes closed.

Feeling playful, you put your mouth close to his ear and whisper, "Okay."

-

YOU: But honestly, if Rio and Mikaela cost us any more money, I'll be fuming.

-

When Lana calls you, you drop everything and go.

You're not done with your makeup yet when she calls everyone to the cabana. You drag yourself to get there with Avery linking her arm with yours.

With the two of you as the last ones to get there, you decide to sit at the end of the sofa.

Everyone is looking nervous as they wait for anyone to come in, either Rio and Mikaela or Lana.

After a while, it turns out to be the former. Rio and Mikaela look happy and you know looking happy doesn't mean they did something but it makes you nervous seeing the smiles on their faces.

Lana chimes not long after, saving them from being drilled with questions by everyone.

"Hello, everyone."

"Hi, Lana," you weakly reply.

"Rio and Mikaela, how was your night at the suite?" Lana asks the most spending couple.

"Oh, yeah? What happened?" Finn asks with faint enthusiasm.

Mikaela looks at Rio before answering, "It was romantic."

"How romantic?" Nya asks.

"Bubble bath, champagne, rose petals... it was beautiful," Mikaela answers with a smile on her face.

You look at the ones who voted to trust them and see if anyone shows regrets.

"Rio and Mikaela's stay in the suite was the ultimate test of restraint to further their connection without surrendering to physical desires."

You half-heartedly listen to Lana as you start to get a bad feeling about everything and prepare yourself for the worst outcome.

"However, this was also a test of trust."

From the looks on their faces, Rio and Mikaela seem to not expect that Lana is brewing something behind them.

"Rio and Mikaela, when you left the suite, I asked the group whether they would put their fate on you as a couple."

Mikaela's jaw drops at the information and her face dims as if someone has turned off the lights.

"If they trusted you not to break the rules, I would reimburse the $40,000 you both lost so far."

Rio rubs his hands together and licks his thick lips, having nothing to say but you can't quite tell if it's a good or a bad quiet.

"However, if you broke any rules in the private suite, an additional $40,000 would be deducted from the prize fund."

"That's how much faith we had in both of you," Avery says and intentionally, makes it sound like a warning to them.

You take another look around and can see that most of everyone regrets their decisions already.

"I can reveal that Rio and Mikaela did break the rules," Lana announces.

-

YOU: Don't say I didn't warn you.

-

To say that he's disappointed would be an understatement.

Han can't believe that someone he thinks that's like a brother to him would do such stupid things. He knows that he should not do it, they should take this test as a way to earn everyone's trust but they wasted it away.

Not to mention, wasted some more money too.

"What did you do?" Nya asks.

"We maybe uhm... kissed," Mikaela answers.

"Again?" Asher gasps in shock.

"Did you think for a second that maybe it's not a good idea? That you knew you had to resist it?" Avery says, gritting her teeth as she speaks to Mikaela.

To everyone's surprise, Mikaela doesn't look like she's feeling guilty or shows even the slightest of remorse on her pretty face.

"And because you kissed twice, you have been fined an additional $12,000."

Han thinks that's already the worst of it but Lana doesn't stop there.

"That means your night at the suite has cost the group a total of $52,000."

"I'm sorry I failed you all," Rio finally speaks up for the first time today.

"We-we don't know you bet all of that money on us," Mikaela defends but that's so out of touch.

"But we— You were put to the ultimate test," Avery pressed the focus on the matter and that she shouldn't blame everyone when they're the ones who shit the bed.

"I know," Mikaela says, defeated but still not looking sorry for what she did.

"The prize fund now stands at $87,000. Goodbye."

-

HAN: $52,000 for two kisses? [Shakes head] It's not even funny anymore.

-

You walk back to the dressing room to finish getting ready for the day even though you don't feel like doing it anymore after losing more than half of the prize money when it's not even halfway of the retreat.

You take a long sip of water from your tumbler then sit on your usual spot on the vanity table.

Nya, Gwen, and Sawyer are there too, probably can't find anywhere else to vent but here. The room is loud with their rant and frustrated groans.

Unfortunately, Mikaela steps into the dressing room and everyone gets quiet as she takes a seat on the chair. She looks at everyone but none of them is looking at her.

"I feel like I need to come here and talk to everyone," she says.

You pick up your eyebrow pencil and carefully fill in your eyebrows with it while looking into the mirror.

"You guys shouldn't put your trust in us," Mikaela says.

Instead of sincerely apologizing, Mikaela flips it back to everyone and hopes that it'll make everyone feel better. Nya scoffs at that while the others keep on ignoring her.

"I feel guilty. I feel so bad right now," Mikaela says in the hope that's enough to assure everyone that she's sorry.

Sawyer puts down her hairbrush and starts talking, "I don't think you're sorry for doing it."

You look to the side and see that Sawyer is speaking up for everybody here.

"I think you just feel bad at how bad we're reacting," Sawyer points out.

And she's right. Mikaela only feels bad because no one is taking her side and not because she feels bad for what she did.

"I mean, is it like what? Seven times? You're obviously not sorry for what you're doing," Nya also can't help herself from adding to it.

It's clear that everyone is not pleased with Mikaela and her behavior, especially without Avery on her side to help her.

-

YOU: Mikaela, [holds up hand] please!

-

"I'm genuinely sorry from the bottom of my heart," Rio begins with a heartfelt apology as the boys gather in the bedroom.

Han is not sure an apology would ail this sense of betrayal he feels but at the same time, he doesn't know what Rio can do to make it go away.

"If you were smart, you should have slept away from each other," Finn rants.

Meanwhile, Asher is sitting still on his bed, scratching at his head with a blank expression on his face.

"I put everything on you, man..." Peyton says with a low sigh.

Han still doesn't know what to say but he guesses that Rio can see the disappointment on his face as he presses his lips together into a thin line.

"I'm genuinely sorry," Rio apologizes again.

He leans forward with his hands clasped in front of him, "Over time, you'll see that," he finishes.

If only his apology brought back the money they'd lost, Han wouldn't be this mad and so would anyone, but well...

-

HAN: Obviously, they had no idea we risked that much money on them and I do feel sorry but they should have known it's called the ultimate test for a reason.

-

"Looking like a handsome sausage!"

Han breaks into laughter as you watch him getting ready in the bathroom, then continues combing his dark hair while looking into the mirror.

"We got called to the cabana," you inform, leaning your body against the doorframe of the bathroom.

"Bleugh!" Han reacts with a groan and takes a can of hairspray for his hair.

"I know," you agree with him.

Han is indeed looking good in his red shirt and dark slacks but oftentimes, he wonders why he is impeccably dressed up just to get anxious over a talking cone.

"My belly is turning," you whisper to him.

Unluckily, Han can't give you the comfort you need when he feels the same way. He puts a hand on yours and intertwines it, resting it on your thigh.

The cone chimes and everyone gets tensed at the sound of it.

"From the date I've gathered during your stay in retreat so far," Lana skips the usual greeting and that only means she's angry.

"I must inform you that some of you have not demonstrated the capacity to make deeper, emotional connections."

Is it what Han thinks it is?

"Oh, my days..." Nya weakly gasps.

He holds your hand tighter, afraid that his thought manifested into reality.

"There are two guests that have not committed to the retreat or show signs of progress."

It's becoming real now that his heart is pounding out of his chest. At this point, he can't tell who these two people are because Lana is the only one who can objectively see everyone's progress in this retreat.

"And I must bring their time here to an end."

He can't believe what he heard but as you press your head into his shoulder, he knows he heard it right. Lana is sending two people home, right now.

-

HAN: I am freaking out. I want to get to know her and see where that might go so... I don't want to go home.

-

The possibility that this might be his last night in the retreat is there. Han puts his arm around you, pulling you close and putting his head close to you, catching that natural scent of your body as he breathes you in.

"The first person who has to leave the retreat tonight is..."

Everybody is nervous and the tension is rising, everyone is uncomfortable in their seats. Han is stressed, thinking that it would be him.

"Sawyer."

Nya, the one sitting next to her, throws her hands around her while Fabian who sits on the other side, gently squeezes her shoulder.

"Sawyer, you have failed to commit to the process or make any emotional connections. I have calculated that you have the lowest possibility of forming meaningful relationships," Lana lays out the reasons why she's being sent out of the retreat.

Sawyer sadly smiles and looks at everyone, "It's okay, you guys," she says but her eyes are glossy with tears.

Nya rests her head on her shoulder and holds her hand, snuggling up to her as if she's the one who needs the comfort not the other way around.

"The second person leaving the retreat tonight is..."

Han feels like someone is squeezing his heart dry and his throat is closing up, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Peyton."

Han is unconsciously gripping your shoulder and you end up holding him, providing him the comfort he seeks by placing rubs on his back.

"Peyton, you have continued to display behavior from your player past and you have shown no remorse or signs of change."

Peyton puts on a smile and coyly says, "I don't say much but all of you are like family to me."

Avery sniffs with her eyes wet with tears while Nya looks like she knows it's coming for him.

"Sawyer and Peyton, please leave the retreat."

It feels like he's letting them down even though Han is not the one with the decision to cut them off the show. He feels sorry for them as he hugs them and bids them farewell.

"See you again, everyone!" Sawyer says for the last time before leaving the villa.

Everyone is just as gutted as he is, sitting on the sofa waiting for Lana to finish speaking.

"I hope the rest of you take this as a lesson to take this process more seriously."

When bedtime comes, it feels not right to see one bed empty.

He feels bad for them but he's also relieved that it's not him and you, he's not ready to go home yet. Moreover, he is determined to make progress in this retreat.

He dives into your arms and lets you hold him, keeping him in your warm embrace.

As if you know he needs your comfort, you gently rub the back of his neck, "I'm still here," you whisper with a soft laugh.

He smiles hearing that and places a kiss on your cheek, "I know."

-

HAN: We've just started getting to know each other so I'm glad that we're staying.

-

It's another day in the retreat and another day of spending hours to get ready for the day.

You understand that you should look presentable because you're in a TV show but doing it for almost two weeks now, you're getting tired of it now.

"You look cute in that bikini, babe," Avery compliments you as you put on a black pair of bikini.

You take a step back to see the whole look in the mirror, "Mmh, yeah, I look good," you agree with her.

One thing you learn in this retreat other than making emotional connections is that you like hanging out with girls.

Instead of rivalry, the girls are very supportive of each other, you can see that from compliments being thrown around the dressing room every five minutes.

The only girl that isn't vibing with you is Lana.

After a very intense day yesterday, you feel like turning the other way instead of going to the cabana. It's like you can't go on with your day without seeing her cone-shaped body.

"Come, baby cake," Han holds his hand out at you.

You take his hand only to let him pull you hard until you topple onto his lap, making you laugh as he puts his hands around you.

"It's kind of suspicious to me that there are presents for us," Asher says.

You wouldn't notice the small boxes on the table if Asher didn't say anything, not sure if it's a present but it looks like it from how the lid is wrapped with a pretty bow.

"Hello, everyone," Lana greets as soon as she comes online.

You get off Han's lap to sit on the sofa since it's not a good time to get cuddly.

"I have a gift for each of you."

Lana confirms your guess but you get nervous instead of excited for it. It's never just a gift, there must be something else in there.

"What it is, Lana?" Finn asks.

"The gifts will serve as a reward for those couples who show me that they're taking the right steps toward deeper connections. They will be given the chance to take those connections further."

Everyone is intently listening, probably wondering if there's a catch behind this sudden gift-giving.

"Can we open it?" Nya asks with eagerness.

With the cue given by the staff, everyone takes one box from the table and discovers a smartwatch inside.

"For free?" Han innocently asks you.

You're cackling as you put the watch around his wrist and let him do the same with yours.

"When I observe two people forming a genuine connection, they will be given a green light like this..."

Lana demonstrates it by turning the watches green along with a melodic chime of hers and everyone is cheering in reaction.

"... where the rules do not apply for a little amount of time."

Han leans in to whisper into your ear to relay Lana's message, "Green light means we can fuck."

You burst into laughter and gently push his head away, stopping him from saying another silly thing. That doesn't stop him from resting his chin on your shoulder.

"I would like to remind you that those who do not receive a green light are not displaying enough progress."

You see that everyone is excited about these watches, well, the idea of getting a pass to rule break is nice but knowing Lana, earning a green light wouldn't be easy.

"Thank you, Lana!" You thank her nonetheless.

-

YOU: With this [shows watches] I think I'm ready to deepen my connection with Han.

-

Motivated by the promise of a green light, you pull Han aside, walking to the beach together to get some privacy to talk with him.

You both sit on rocks facing the beach with the surface of the water reflecting the afternoon sun at you. You've been meaning to talk to him about your feelings and you don't like talking about your feelings so it's going to be hard to open up.

However, you know he gave you a lot and you've only given him so little.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about us," you begin.

"Okay," Han says with a nod.

"I know I've been holding myself back a little," you admit to him with a thin smile.

"A little?"

You smile at that and corrected it, "I keep my guard up."

"I think the Avery situation plays on the back of your head, huh?" He correctly guesses.

Well, that's one of the reasons so you nod, "Yeah, it does."

Han gazes into your eyes even though he has to squint under the bright sun to do that, "I barely spoke two words with Avery, I didn’t vibe with her. It was purely physical attraction," he says.

He pulls his legs and puts his hands on his knees, "But spending time with you, getting to know you, it all feels natural, you know?"

You nod in agreement because it does feel natural like you've known him for years instead of days.

"I feel like now... if anyone else came in, I'd still stick with you no matter what," he earnestly says to you.

It feels like discovering a new side of him and this talk feels intimate because it feels like you're talking to his heart from how open and sincere he is with his words.

"It's not just that," you confess.

It's been so long that you haven't been this open to anyone that you forgot how and it scares you so much. You keep retreating even though you keep reminding yourself to lower your guard down even just a little.

"The last time I opened up to someone, I got badly hurt and it makes me scared of commitment," your heart aches as the truth escapes your mouth.

"That's my problem," you say with a nervous laugh.

Somehow, letting those hurt out sets you free from the burdening past and you feel so much lighter and better. As you gaze into his eyes, you feel like you can tell him anything now.

"Yesterday made a massive difference."

"What do you mean?" He asks with an eyebrow raised.

"I didn't want to lose you," you sincerely tell him.

Han leans forward, trying to get as close to you until his knees bump with yours. He takes your hands and holds them while keep looking into your eyes.

"I knew that you were the only one I connected with since day one," you confess and you hope it's enough to tell him how you really feel.

He smiles at you, the silly one that makes you can't help but smile back to him.

"I want to kiss you now," he says to you.

"We can't. Unless this turns green," you remind him while showing him the watch on your wrist.

He then looks at the vast sea behind you and comes up with an absurd idea, "Do you think Lana's rules still applies on international water?"

This is why you like him, he's not only tugging at your heartstrings but he also shakes it, teases it, and twirls it around his little finger.

-

YOU: To be honest, I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else but him [smiles]

-

sThe boys are off to do a workshop in the front yard and the girls are hanging out by the beach, talking about, well... boys.

"It's so hard to keep my hands off of him," Gwen shares.

Recently, a few people have been doing bed swaps. Since the night Asher kissed her, Gwen now shares the bed with him while Avery is now sharing the bed with Nya.

"How do you feel about him?" You ask out of curiosity.

Gwen brushes her hair to the side, "I like that he's so fun to be with and not afraid to make a fool out of himself," she answers.

"Do you see any possibility that it could be more than that?" You ask.

The question seems to take her aback that she takes a minute to think, "Yeah, I think so but let's see," she vaguely answers.

"It'd be amazing to have more people in here," Avery says.

Nya turns her head around to look at Avery, "And more of my type," she adds.

"Someone with confidence, masculinity..." Avery lists all of the things she wants from a man.

"And big hands!" Nya continues her sentence which sends everyone into laughter.

"We just need more meat in here!" Nya desperately wishes her heart out and hopes that it's loud enough for Lana to hear.

It's like Lana hears their prayers, someone steps into the villa but unfortunately, it's not one she wishes for.

Avery lets out a shriek and covers her mouth too late to muffle it, "Oh, my God!"

"Is that a new girl?" Mikaela asks, looking suddenly intimidated but doing a great job masking it with excitement.

The new girl waves her hands, looking at everyone with a bright smile on her face, "Hello, hi, babes!"

You hear a British accent and that explains the distinct charms she has. When she introduces herself, she holds strong eye contact with you, "I'm Portia."

You exchange a quick hug and kiss both cheeks, "You're gorgeous," you tell her in admiration.

"No, you're gorgeous," she flips the compliment back at you with a sweet smile that showcases her dimples.

The girls look fine sharing the attention with the new girl but you can see the sheer disappointment drawn on Nya and Avery's faces.

But guess what? Another guest walks into the retreat and finally, it's one they're looking for.

It's a whole lot of meat in one man, Nya will have her desired feast. He's tall, has stunning brown skin, and a charming smile, you spot a few tattoos on his body too.

"I'm Ed," he introduces himself around.

He looks pleased being the only man in the villa at the moment, "You're all so beautiful," he says with a grin.

Avery is smitten already, she can't take her eyes off of Ed. You're afraid that she has to share him with Nya and you notice that his eyes are on you.

"So, what is your type, Ed?" You ask, being the one to start the conversation so the available girls would know which one he's more into.

"I don't really have a type, just someone I vibe with," he coyly answers.

Avery laughs even though there's nothing funny with what he said. On the other hand, Mikaela seems to be worried that the new girl is going to steal Rio away from her when clearly, she hasn't even met him yet.

"What about you? Do you have a type?" Mikaela asks her.

"Tall, gorgeous, nice smile..." Portia answers with a giggle.

You almost choked on air hearing it, "That's Rio," you blurt out.

"Well, Rio and I, we've been together since day one so..." Mikaela indirectly tells the new girl to not touch his man. She may as well piss on Rio to mark her territory.

You exclude yourself from their chat and decide to join the other group of girls talking to the new guy.

"That's some sick tattoos you got there," Ed says as he looks at the tattoos on your arm.

"Thank you. You got some uh... impressive ones," you say, but it's hard looking at them when his toned abs keep distracting you.

He lightly touches your inner arm to show you which one he likes, "This. I like this."

You shudder at the contact like you've been zapped by electricity and at the same time, you see the boys are returning from the workshop.

-

YOU: New guests mean more rule breaks [laughs] I just hope that they catch up on our progress fast [laughs]

-

What is happening? Han comes back from the workshop to find that there are two new guests in the villa.

One is a beautiful brunette and the other one is a tattoed guy with tousled hair that makes him look like he's just rolled out of the bed looking attractive like that.

If Lana's plan is trying to intimidate him, no, it's not working. However, if the plan is to try to make him jealous then yes, she's succeeded at it.

The new guy touching your arm in an excuse to see your tattoo and as a player himself, he knows that it's just one of his tricks.

Everyone is going around introducing each other and he can see that Finn and Fabian have their eyes on the new girl, surprisingly, Rio too. He looks over to Mikaela and she has the right to drill a hole on her head with her laser eyes.

"Portia, what do you think about the boys? Do you like what you see?" Asher asks, representing the curious singles in the villa.

"Yeah," she shortly answers.

"I'm excited to have fun and get to know everyone," she says with her eyes daringly glancing in Rio's direction.

"Are you planning on breaking rules or what?" Finn asks straight to the point, still has his priorities right as the sex police.

Portia giggles at that and then lightly shakes her head, "I can't promise anything."

This new girl looks cute, with freckles dusted her cheeks and a dimpled smile but he senses that she's going to stir things up in this retreat.

With the two new guests, the dressing room is a lot more crowded than usual. Han dresses up in a black shirt and jeans, styling his hair with Asher putting his long hair into a bun next to him.

"What do you think?" Asher asks him for his opinion.

He looks at him, up and down to know if the whole look complements each other, "Great, man," he says.

Seeing the new guy able to land his hand on you merely a few minutes after he stepped into the villa, Han feels like he needs reassurance that you're still doing it with him, getting to know each other and making deeper connections.

It's so easy to play cool and confident but you've seen everything in him, he knows that you'll see right through him.

No one ever told him that liking someone makes him more insecure about himself.

While everyone else is hanging around the new guests at the firepit, he pulls you aside to talk on the small sofa where you both squeeze yourselves into.

Han slouches with his head resting against the sofa, looking up at you while you're propping a hand under your head and one leg draping between his legs.

You look so beautiful in that tight black dress, you smell so good and those lips tantalize him more than usual tonight.

With his arm around you, he aimlessly runs his fingers on the small of your back, "What do you think of the new guy?"

You peer down at his face and ask back, "Ed?"

He's only been here for hours and you already addressed him with his name. Again, no one ever told him that liking someone makes him think irrationally.

"Do you think he's good-looking?"

You think for a second then nod, "Yeah."

"Handsome?"

"Mmh," you nod again.

"And I'm not handsome?" He asks with a grin but genuinely curious what you think of him physically.

You crack a laugh and think again for a while, "Yeah."

"'Yeah I'm not handsome' or 'Yeah I'm handsome'?"

You're laughing instead of answering and his hand stops moving on your back, waiting for you to answer.

"Is that why you don't want to kiss me?" He asks, turning serious all of a sudden, then looks away to not let you see how embarrassed he is asking you this.

You stop propping your head with your hand and put your hand on his chest, "First of all, you're not handsome," you tell him.

"I'm super handsome, I know," he entertains himself.

"You're cute," you say with a gentle pinch on his chin, "And I like cute guys.

That makes him look back at you with a smile that blooms on his face, "How cute?"

You lean in close to tease him, leaving only a few inches of space between your lips and his, "Very cute."

Han is already dizzy with your warm, sweet breath brushing his cheek as you speak. His eyes drop to your lips as they tantalize him more and more.

"Kiss me then, I'm cute," he teases back by putting his hand on the nape of your neck, not letting you back away.

"How about Lana? The money, mmh?" You softly rub the tip of your nose against his cheek.

"I don't think they'd mind us breaking a rule," Han reckons since none of you have broken any rules yet it's more likely that everyone will let it pass.

You cup his jaw and softly swipe his lips with your thumb, "You think so?"

From the way you're looking at his lips, he knows that this is also what you want.

"Yeah..." he breathlessly says, his throat getting dry the more he craves your lips.

"Mmh..." you answer with a sultry hum.

Han can't take it anymore. He slowly pulls your head close until your lips collide in an explosive kiss, a kiss that obliterates his senses and stirs chaos inside his head.

His tongue pries open your mouth and you eventually cave in, letting him invade you, tasting more of you. He's so deep in it, drowning himself in it that breathing doesn't feel necessary anymore to him.

Oh, he loves your low moans that slip out against his lips and the hand that lingers on his neck. He also feels your leg slowly rubbing his inner thigh, inviting the other part of him to come and join.

He almost pouts when you pull away from the kiss, and you console him with a quick peck on the lips, "That's enough for tonight," you say.

He doesn't want to stop but he looks at the bright side of things, there's always another night.

"We should wipe that lipstick mark..." you sigh as you clean his lips with your thumb.

His hand flies to your lips, helping you to fix your smudged lipstick so as to not leave any evidence for everyone to see. However, touching your lips only makes him want to kiss you again.

As if you're reading his mind, you immediately retract yourself from him to get a space, you take the chance to fix your hair and then your dress.

He helps by pulling down the hem of your dress to cover your exposed thighs. He leans to your side and whispers, "That was a good kiss."

That doesn't enough for him, he then throws himself at you, putting his arms around you as he pinned you down on the sofa, "Fuck, that was so good," he sighs again into the crook of your neck.

Wrapping your arms around him, you bring your mouth close to his ear and murmur, "Don't get used to it."

-

HAN: It feels like I kissed a girl for the first time all over again [smiles]

-

Lana seems to let him go for the night and Han can't tell if he should feel lucky or what.

Eventually, Lana will tell everyone and everyone will know that they kissed, he is very well aware of that.

But God! That kiss was so good and it was worth every penny of that $6,000 he spent on it. He didn't even think of the money because he was kissing you and you're such a good kisser.

It wouldn't be like every other night, it would be hard for him to sleep next to you tonight and not try to kiss you. He licks his lips to get any taste of you that lingers in his and his head is spinning, a little lightheaded thinking of the kiss.

Most of everyone is already on their beds and he's been waiting for you long enough he starts to get antsy. Truthfully, he just can't wait to see you so he walks to the dressing room, he finds you sitting and applying something to your face.

"Baby," he calls you from the doorway.

"Yeah?" You answer without looking away from the mirror.

"When are you coming to bed?" he asks, half whining.

"In a few minutes," you reply, carefully dabbing the skin around your eyes with your finger.

"Come to bed..." he grumbles as he walks up to you only to realize that someone else is there.

The new girl, Portia, is brushing her hair on the other side of the vanity table. Han immediately gets embarrassed for acting like a toddler to you, not knowing there's someone else there.

"You guys are very cute," She shortly comments with a smile.

Han can only wait until Portia leaves the room to start talking with you, even though he's not sure if it's a good idea to be alone with you.

He watches as you dab your lips with lip balm and smack them together, inviting him to touch and feel the softness of your lips.

"Put some on me too," he says.

You hand him the lip balm to put it on himself but he refuses, shaking his head at you. You reluctantly put it on for him, and slowly glides the lip balm on his lips.

"Okay, now we're ready to kiss," he says after smacking his lips together.

You gently push him away and swivel your chair to the other way, "Told you not to get used to it," you say, getting up from the chair.

He puts his arms around you, hugging you from the back while you're putting your things back into your make-up bag. You smell so good that he can't help but plant his nose in your neck, getting himself drunk in your scent.

You start walking in the direction of the door, dragging him to you with your hands on his, "Let's go to bed."

"One more kiss," he whispers with a soft kiss on the sensitive skin behind your ear.

You look at him through the reflection in the mirror with his head buried in your neck, "We can't rule break again," you tell him.

He starts whining like a baby, humming against your skin with his arms tightening around you.

"You're just a baby, mmh?" You gently nudge his chin with your shoulder.

"It's better to get scolded for two kisses than one," he offers his idea to you.

You softly laugh at him and you seem to be more worried about anyone finding the two of you here alone from the way you keep looking at the doorway.

"I know you want it too," he teases you, then playfully bites at your ear shell.

You take his hands away from you but instead of walking away, you push him until he's pinned against the Asher's close on the other side of the dressing room to prevent anyone from walking in on you unnoticed.

"You won't stop until we do it, mmh?" You murmur, putting your body against him and dropping your hands on his shoulders.

He looks into your eyes as they sparkle and he can see that you want it too. But you get ahead of him, crashing your lips against him and knocking the air out of him.

Somehow this kiss is better than the first one and he gets even hungrier for you, opening his mouth to take more of you.

He twirls your tongue with yours and mischievously, you gently tug it between your teeth as he tries to pull away, giggling when you finally let go.

The temperature in the room seems to have raised a few degrees, making him feel hot all over yet he pulls you incredibly closer, leaving not even an inch between your bodies. He has one hand on the arch of your back and the other on the nape of your neck so he can angle your head as he pleases

With your body pressed against him, he can feel it starts to mold to his body and he wants to feel every curve of your body with his hand.

You immediately drag his hand back as he attempts to touch your rear, clicking your tongue at him as you pull away from the kiss.

"That's enough rule breaks!"

You leave him with his mouth hanging open and his lips wet from the kisses, it's cruel that you leave him wanting more.

"We can't enter the bedroom together so..."

You take steps back from him and walk in the direction of the door, "Wait for a few minutes then you can come to the bedroom," you instruct him.

He manages to catch your hand before you walk away, "One more kiss."

"No!" You refuse but with a sly smirk on your face, hinting that you're not completely opposed to the idea.

"I know you like it," he says, standing in the middle of the room, defeated.

You stop by the doorway and look over your shoulder, "I meant it, wait for a few minutes!" You remind him.

You know what? They'll eventually know so he doesn't why you bother to avoid everyone's suspicion.

-

HAN: I started paying attention to the little things she does. How she purrs in her sleep like a kitten or scrunches her nose before smiling [shyly laughs] everything about her is adorable except the kisses... her kisses are out of this world!

-

Is this how everyone feels when they know they're about to get exposed by Lana?

Surely, you can't calm down like usual since you blatantly broke the rules twice last night. You didn't even think about the money at that time and the guilt only hit you right now, fast and hard.

Well, it's not like you commit a murder or something, it's just a kiss, well... two kisses and they cost $12,000. You gulp air thinking of the money you spent on those two kisses but in your defense, it was worth every cent of it.

You glance at Han and he flashes a knowing smile at you, there's no way out of this but through.

When the chime comes, your heart drops to your stomach and you inhale air to calm yourself.

"Hello, everyone," Lana starts the session as usual with a lukewarm greeting.

"Hey, Lana," you reply with a weak smile.

Han takes your hand so you can stop playing with the frayed hem of his sleeveless top and takes your other hand, pinning your hands by the wrists on his lap to make you stop fiddling altogether.

"I must now inform you that yesterday, further rulebreaks occurred."

You turn your head at him and he's looking calm, he even winks his eyes at you which you respond with a scoff.

Avery points her finger at Mikaela and Rio, the biggest spender in the villa.

"Not us," Mikaela immediately denies.

You look at Han, giving him the signals to start talking before the tension rises. He gets the cue right away, letting go of your hands to hold it instead.

"It's us," he coyly says.

Rio says something in Portuguese while Asher claps his hands, both impressed at him. You see that the response is not as horrifying as you thought it would be.

"Did you kiss or did anything else?" Finn asks, wanting to know how much you did so he can calculate the damage.

"We kissed. Twice," Han answers.

You get so embarrassed at how proud he is at admitting the rule breaks that you start laughing next to him. You suppress another wave of laughter to apologize.

"We're sorry, guys, everyone," you sincerely tell them.

-

YOU: Everyone is taking it well and I think it's because they know we have a genuine connection here.

-

"These rule breaks have cost the group $12,000," Lana informs.

However, you know it's not going to stay this calm when the bills turn up.

"The prize fund now stands at $75,000."

Now everyone's faces dim at the amount of money left in the prize fun and it's not much. You are sorry for breaking the rules but it's not right to put the whole blame on you.

Avery crosses her hands together and warns everyone, "No more rule breaks!"

It's so easy to say for her to say now. It was easy for you to refrain from anything sexual but now that you have a partner and you try to build a connection with him, it's so hard because physical affection helps you to achieve this connection you're having with him now.

"Is that all, Lana?" Finn asks.

"As you know, I encourage genuine romantic connections so I have planned dates for our latest guests," Lana comes with an announcement instead.

That gets the new guests, Portia and Ed excited hearing it. Only Mikaela looks like she's plotting a murder plan in her head.

"Ed, please select someone from the group to take on a date," Lana orders.

Feeling like he needs to show ownership over you, Han puts his arm around you as Ed is looking at the girls to take on a date.

Ed's eyes land at you for a second before it shift to Nya, "Are you up for anything later, Nya?"

Nya smiles so brightly and pretends to not care, "I don't know. I'll have to go check my schedule," she jokingly says.

You look at Avery and she looks a bit disappointed with it. She is pretty and all but maybe Nya fits his vibe more.

"Portia, please select someone from the group to take on a date."

Han leans into your ear and whispers, "I'd be worried if I were you."

You snort at that and you're not saying that there's zero possibility for it, it's just that you know Portia has her eyes on Rio. Not sure if she's gutsy enough to take someone's man on a date.

"Uhm... I would like to try and get to know someone," Portia says and she happens to sit next to Rio.

"I'd like to take..." she stalls with her eyes secretly glancing at Rio.

"Rio on a date," she finally says.

There's no one here that is not surprised by her daring move. Portia may look adorable with her freckles and blonde hair tied into pigtails but damn, she is ballsy.

"Sorry, Mikaela," she says to her but you don't hear any guilt in that apology.

Mikaela only nods and forces herself to smile, "Here we go," she sighs.

This only reminds you that you're indeed in a TV show and you believe the viewers would enjoy this drama so much because you're secretly enjoying it too.

"Thank you very much for the date," Rio says which only takes the drama further and sets Mikaela on fire.

Gosh, you feel incredibly good for not being a part of that drama. You put your hand across Han's chest and are just grateful that what you have with him is genuine.

-

YOU: If Rio kisses Portia on their date [shakes head] all hell will break loose on this retreat.

-

Mikaela is pacing around in the dressing room while the girls are getting ready for the night, except the ones that are on their dates.

"You have every right to feel like this. It's so shitty, I know," Avery says, validating her emotion while doing her make-up.

You see that Mikaela is on the verge of crying as she holds the back of her chair and grips at it, "it's been hard for me to build a genuine connection with Rio," she says.

Avery pauses doing her make-up to give her a gentle squeeze on her arm, "I know, I know," she comforts her.

Putting the drama aside, you feel bad for her because as wild as you can be you refrain from stealing someone's man. It's girls code and you're not a fan of anyone that has no respect for that.

"Mikaela, sit down, honey," you tell her because she's looking like she's about to faint.

She obeys you, taking a seat next to Avery and rubbing her temple in distress, "If he goes in and his head turns, just know that he's making poor decisions," she stutters her words trying to hold in her tears.

You're bad at comforting people so the least you can do is listen to her and make sure she feels heard.

"He's entertaining this, he-he's..." Mikaela can't keep it anymore so she bursts into tears.

In a second, Avery comes to her aid, holding her as she's crying. You reach for her shoulder to place tender rubs on it to comfort her.

"It's just that... I haven't been vulnerable to one person in so long," she says with a quivering voice.

You can relate to that more than ever and you'd feel the same way if it happened to you.

-

YOU: That's just what happens when you get too close to someone, they'll gain the power to control your emotions.

-

Consider him lucky that Mikaela-Rio-Portia drama diverted everyone's attention away from his $12,000 worth of rule break.

But here's a new problem: Han craves it more than before.

He blames you for having such addictive kisses that he can't wait to have more of it. However, he craves for something more than just kisses now.

Yes, he's aware of how dangerous it sounds but how can he can stop thinking about sexual things when you're always looking so damn sexy.

Just like tonight, you look so gorgeous in that black silk dress with thin straps and it showcases your beautiful neck that he wants to tear it off of you.

You drain your wine before sitting on his lap, "Hi, crawdaddy," you greet him with a giggle.

He sees you licking the drop of wine trying to escape the corner of your mouth and he wishes he could do it for you.

"You look so hot," he praises you with his hands on each side of your waist.

"Mmh?" You squint at him.

"What do the kids say now?" He thinks for a moment before continuing, "Fire!"

You laugh at his choice of compliments and put your hands on his muscular chest.

"You're fire!" He says again with a sly grin.

The night is lovely with the full moon hanging in the sky and the winds blowing so softly, brushing his skin with salty, warm air.

But all he can feel is the touch of your fingertips on his neck as you look into his eyes, "What are you thinking?"

Should he tell you what is inside his head right now? Not sure if it's a good idea though.

Han tucks the strands of hair escaping your ponytail behind your ear and keeps his hand there, holding one side of your head with such love.

"We have so much sexual chemistry going on, don't you think?"

"Mm-mmh," you nod in agreement.

"And I think we can have sex," he says.

Before you get it wrong, he quickly adds, "Only if you want to have sex."

You nod again and scratch the tip of your nose with your knuckle.

He puts your hand away and leans in close, "What do you think?"

You seem to hesitate to answer him, "Hmm..."

He leans in closer and places a soft kiss on your neck, you keep a safe distance with your hand firmly resting against his chest.

"I think we should stick to the rules," you tell him.

Then you put your hand on his neck and look at him as you continue talking, "I just don't want us to have sex and suddenly things change, I don't want things to change between us."

He pulls you close and locks his arms around you, "Things are not going to change between us," he assures you.

"I know," you say, "I'm just scared that it would happen."

He completely understands what you're saying that you're afraid that sex would change things between you and him.

"I know what you mean," he tells you.

To console himself, Han places another soft kiss on your cheek and looks at you as you endearingly brush his hair to the back.

"Don't get me wrong, I'd like to have sex with you," you bluntly say with a sly smirk.

"But..." You don't even get to finish your words as you pull him into a hug but that proves you're just as sexually frustrated as he is.

You pull away to look down at his crotch, patting his thigh as you say, "Down, boy!"

Han laughs, embarrassed that you know he's having a boner when you're only sitting on his lap. He wants you so much but at the same time, he wants to prove that it's just more than physical attraction.

With or without sex, he's a happy man to be with you.

-

HAN: I've been horny as it is... [sucks air through teeth] Hopefully I can hold out.

-

Another drama unfolds during bedtime.

You're joining Avery in chatting on Asher's bed, the three of you are chatting when Mikaela suddenly comes. She looks unhappy, duh, you'll be too when your man is on a date with another girl.

"Portia has disrespected me, she said some things on the date so I will be having some conversations with her," she says.

The three of you automatically look at each other and notice that Mikaela is having a meltdown. There's a concerning thing going on in the room so you walk back to your bed and so is Avery.

Mikaela is impatiently waiting for Portia to come into the bedroom while Rio is comfortably snuggling close to her on the bed.

You don't wait to share it with Han once he gets onto the bed, telling him everything he missed while he's away in the dressing room.

"Things can get ugly and I'm worried," you tell him.

Mikaela is an intelligent person, but when it comes to her emotions, she can be intense and almost volatile. You're right to never try to mess with her.

Han offers his arm as your pillow so he can cuddle you as it gets intense in the bedroom, you can see that from how everyone is looking tense on their beds.

The wind sends the door shut and Han gets startled, thinking that it's Portia as his head snaps in the direction of the door.

"What a fucking stress!" He sighs as he snuggles to you while you're lowly chuckling at his reaction.

The drama has to end in an unsatisfying way because Portia doesn't get on the bed yet even after the lights are out.

-

YOU: Mikaela has this fiery attitude so I... [laughs] I was really afraid that there'd be a fight but thank God for Portia's long bedtime routine.

-

There's already tension between Mikaela and Portia this morning and you can only hope that the workshop will help to sort things out.

There's an instructor already waiting in the front yard and a small bonfire in the middle, you wonder why they set a fire during the day.

"Hello, I'm Amy, a relationship expert," she introduces herself.

Everyone is sitting in a circle around the small bonfire and intently listening to Amy talking.

"Today's workshop is about letting go of the past so that we can be present. Let's talk about any issues in trust that we have with men."

She looks around as she asks, "Who wants to share first?"

No one seems to want to talk about their feelings, including you. You feel uncomfortable letting yourself bare and be vulnerable, especially in front of everyone.

After a few minutes passed in silence, Gwen decides to be the first to share her emotional baggage, a shocking one about how her friend cheated with her boyfriend.

Everyone starts to share their story and when it comes to your turn, you're shriveling a little but you remind yourself that you're in a safe space.

"My thing is when I fall in love, I tend to throw it all out there and end up getting hurt for it so... I kind of become numb because I don't want to get hurt," you honestly share.

"And do you find someone here you want to open to?" Amy asks.

"Yeah," you shyly answer.

You suddenly feel like a schoolgirl falling in love for the first time all over again but isn't it what love does to people? Making you a bit loopy.

"I found someone here that I like and I'm slowly opening up to him, and I'll continue to share more of me with him," you make a promise to yourself.

"That's good. That's great!" Amy praises you.

When you look back, you feel good knowing that you're slowly changing as a person, you came in as someone who's against relationships and now, you're sharing an emotional journey with someone, together.

The workshop started as a heartfelt talk between the girls until Mikaela's turn. You get the feeling that she'll use this as a chance to confront Portia.

"I met Rio here and he's just a really special guy, I've never met anyone like him."

Mikaela is looking at Amy then as she continues talking, she looks at Portia, "Last night, I had to sit through and watch Portia take Rio on a date, and obviously, I feel uncomfortable with it," she tells her right to her face.

You and the rest are watching Mikaela calmly handle her emotions and talk it out in a mature way with Portia.

"I don't want to feel like it has to be a competition or territorial. I want us girls to be on good terms but I think you break a boundary here," Mikaela concludes, throwing the ball at her court.

Portia gets quiet and she takes it all in really well, she smiles at her before speaking, "I respect you for speaking out and I'm sorry," she sincerely says.

A smile finally rises on Mikaela's face, "Thank you so much, Portia, that means a lot," she responds.

Like a parent, you feel proud watching them solving their issues in such a grown-up way and you hope it continues to stay good like this.

Amy then hands out a piece of paper and pens to everyone and comes with a new instruction, "You're going to write the things that have happened with your life that you're ready to let go of and forgive."

It feels good to be able to share things with everyone but it takes everything in you to write things down without getting emotional.

On your paper, you write, 'Good enough, perfect, comparison.'

Amy wants you to share the reason why you wrote those things down. You take a deep breath before explaining it.

"I never feel good about myself but the girls are..." You pause to look at everyone as they smile at you.

"They're all beautiful and kind, they help me learn my differences and things I love about me."

They're all cooing at you and you know how cringe it is but you don't feel embarrassed about it at all. It feels nice to let them know that.

After everyone shares what they wrote on their papers, Amy instructs everyone to take that paper and ball it up before throwing it into the bonfire.

"Just feel like you're putting it all behind you, right?" Amy says.

She gathers everyone into a circle before ending the workshop with a group hug to let go of all the bad and take the good with you.

These girls may seem superficial but you can feel that you and them are in this together and it's a really nice feeling. Despite that you're all different, you feel this sense of belonging toward each other, a sisterhood.

-

YOU: I still have some way to go but I know that I'm learning and Lana is starting to knock down my wall [smiles]

-

Going back to the villa, you go straight to the dressing room to dress up for a party Lana suspiciously throwing tonight.

You put your bad thoughts aside and focus on dressing up for the party as it has a Black and White theme.

Han comes up behind you and playfully bites you on the shoulder.

"Ouch!" You yelp in pain.

You continue fixing your make-up in front of the sink since everyone else is crowding the dressing room, "Why did you do that?"

He puts an arm around your waist, "Because you're edible," he answers with a foolish grin.

You glance back at him and sense that he's chipper than usual. You get it that it's getting hard to stay away from each other with sexual attraction getting more unbearable every day.

Gosh! There's not a day when you don't think of ripping his clothes off and having hot, filthy sex with him.

"That's not how I want you to eat me," you joke back.

He plants a long kiss on your neck, "How do you want me to eat you then?"

You chuckle and look at him, "Want you to eat me well, that is."

He puts his other arm around you and draws you closer, "I can do that."

"Yeah?"

He breathes you in and looks at you through the reflection in the mirror, "I can show you," he says.

Before it gets dangerous, you put an end to this conversation and playfully elbow his stomach.

"Ouch!" He yelps in pain this time.

You pull him into a hug for an apology and kiss his cheek, "Let's go, hubba hubba!"

A party is necessary so everyone can blow some steam off for being locked up in this sexless retreat but it also means that Lana plans to throw everyone off.

That doesn't stop you from enjoying the night and the company you're with. You're dancing to the music with your hands draping around Han's shoulders as he slowly sways your body together to the fast-paced music.

After the workshop, you feel much lighter and better, more importantly, you feel confident about how you feel. You look at Han and you feel like you can share anything with him, you can see a relationship with him.

So you hold on to him, tighter and closer but Lana, being the ultimate cockblock she is, chimes in and stops the party.

-

YOU: I have no idea what's about to come next but I know it's not going to be good.

-

It's like the fun has evaporated and been replaced by anxiety once everyone is seated in the cabana waiting for Lana to come online.

"I am very disappointed to report there were several breaches of the rules."

When Lana skips the formality and goes straight to the rule breaks, it means that she's pissed off. You feel good for not breaking the rules with Han after the last time so you don't have anything to worry about. You can freely guess who did it this time.

"We kissed on the date," Ed is kind enough to own up to it fast.

"I think it was okay, yeah," Nya adds to it.

Everyone seems to let them get away with it, maybe because it's one kiss and Ed and Nya are a potential couple. You don't know but you sense that they wouldn't like what they hear next.

"Ed and Nya, your rule break has cost the group $6,000."

Avery is rubbing her temple while Finn seems to have had enough of people selfishly spending the prize money.

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana informs.

Everyone is tense once again, looking around to catch any guilty faces and you bet the biggest spender has anything to do with it.

Han looks over his shoulder at you, covering his eyes he says, "I may have broken the rules in the shower," he meekly says.

Surprised, you spit out, "You did what?"

Han can't be doing another rule break with anyone else, you know that for sure and that leaves with one possibility. You cover your eyes this time as he admits it to everyone.

"I did a little... uh self-gratification," he blurts out at once, aware of how embarrassing it is.

Everyone bursts into laughter at his confession as he hides his head in your neck. You can't do much about it since he didn't tell you about it

"Han, your act of self-gratification has cost the group $4,000."

-

YOU: I'm actually quite offended. Did he not want my help?

-

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Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙭𝙭. 𝙞'𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙖𝙨 𝙞 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Nov 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

In the small and unearthly hours, you were woken by a text message.

>> hey. it's changbin. lol. can we meet? just u and me?

And no more sleep was found.

Now, your shift at the coffee shop ends an hour later than scheduled, all credit to Supervisor Jin’s crippling need to train and train again. Already running late, you catch a taxi from the coffee shop to a record store downtown; Changbin’s choice of meeting spot. Said store is easily identifiable by the cartoonish vinyl disc bolted to the storefront. The bold white letters ‘h’ and ‘e’ are positioned either side of the central hole in the record; a design choice as questionable as the location. Nestled between a sushi place and block of offices, it makes an odd addition to the street.

You timidly enter in your black slacks and polo shirt; it smells like aged polish and cardboard. Racks of vinyl are stacked into long aisles, the upper spaces of wall plastered with faded posters, broken skateboards, hubcaps and general junk proudly displayed— certainly supports the eccentricity of the exterior.

“Hello?”

Intrigued, you head deeper inside, floorboards creaking under your plimsolls. There’s nobody around—even the crammed desk is unmanned. You think you might have the wrong place until your name is called. “That you?”

“Changbin? Where are you?”

“At the back!”

At the rearmost of the store, where an empty rack of shelving spans the back wall, Changbin is surrounded by cardboard boxes stacked high. In dark jeans and a sleeveless tank fitting the warmer weather, he grins on seeing you, eyes scrunching under dark, thick curls. Delicious.

“What’s up?”

You laugh gently. “What’s up yourself. What are you doing?”

He looks around. “Stacking records. Trying to. The alphabet is hard.”

“Okay...?”

“Want to help?”

“I— Changbin, what are we doing here?”

He blinks at you. “You don’t know? Man, you said you were a fan,” he tuts. “This is my parents’ place. Their store.”

“Wait—” You step back, point to the storefront. “Hoe Records is your parents’ store?”

Changbin nods. “Right.”

When in Rome?

“Sure. I’ll help.”

“Cool. Just pass me the records and I’ll stack.”

A half hour ticks by, a routine established as you fish albums from a box and read out the band for Changbin to make comment on their music and shelve it appropriately. The back and forth is comfortable, which considering you’re in the presence of someone you’d so willingly bend over for, is a strange sensation. Like the glitter around his stardom is less so vivid in the domesticity of it all, the man becomes tangible; he glimmers rather than blinds.

“You help out here often?” you ask, watching as he cranes to a high shelf.

He grunts. Down girl.

“Not so much these days. I used to a lot. Like, when I was a kid.”

“Wow. They’ve been here a long time then.”

“Yeah. Hoe Records has always been part of our lives.”

You chuckle; the man looks at you quizzically. “It’s nothing. Just—” You take out another vinyl, checking the cover. “David Bowie.” Changbin takes it from you. “Can I ask why the name?”

“Ah. My old man fancies himself a comedian.”

“So there’s no meaning behind it?” You take out another record. “Def Leppard.”

Changbin shrugs, reaches back for it. “Not really. People like to think there is, though.”

“Fans?”

He nods, slips the record on the shelf, biceps flexing with the reach. “They’re a creative bunch, I’ll give them that. Almost feels cruel to tell them it’s not all that deep.”

You hum, pick up another disc. “Van Halen.”

“Nice.” Changbin takes it.

When the box is empty and Changbin apparently tires of it all, he stretches out, joints popping, spine arching, tits heaving.

“Break?” he asks.

Me in half?

“Sure.”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ♡ 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [4] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm; mingi x reader (this chapter); 9.6k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind. also note: these chapters are very much introductory of each character & their roles, so smut is further down the line ♡.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder references, manipulation, blood, dark magic, kidnapping, emotional turmoil, injuries, smut referenced

Chapter 4:

"Do you think she's fairing well?" Wooyoung steps over a pile of debris, slipping closer to him. "The others are taking care of her?"

"What is with you and this woman?" Yeosang glances at him. Wooyoung's fingers are outstretched, his hand slipping into his with ease. The latter says nothing to deter his touch, knowing it's something that calms him. "Do you desire her?"

"Yes," Wooyoung shrugs. "But that's not the only reason. She's simple but different. She can't fall for my tricks because I can't manipulate her mind. Everything she says to me is genuine. I can't help but want her to want me. Is that wrong?"

"She is a human, nothing she says is genuine. Have you forgotten what we are?" Yeosang pulls Wooyoung closer as he steps over a fallen trunk. It's not too old – it may be no more than a few days since its demise. He places his palm against the trunk, whispering a spell before turning back to him. "Unseelie aren't kind to humans. And she will find out that you were the one who killed her lover, Woo. I doubt she'll take that well."

"I'm not going to tell her that," Wooyoung waves him off. "Besides, the male was so boring. She'll be much more entertained by our spark."

Yeosang holds up a hand, stopping him from speaking. Leaves crunch in the distance, Yeosang whispering a spell unto his free hand and pulling Wooyoung closer. He holds his breath, watching as the faeries appear in the small meadow. The spell he has cast only lasts for a few minutes or so. He can only hope that neither of them linger. The Seelie stay close to each other, rapid words exchanged.

"The human is resistant to faeries? How can that be?"

Neither of them speak, but Yeosang can feel how Wooyoung's shoulder tenses at the words.

"Yeonjun told us. He tried to penetrate her mind but she did not blink. Not one human on this Earth could stop him from entering their mind. She is the sole being."

"Then did he take her?"

"Not yet, not until he catches them off guard. Tonight he set the example, though. I doubt the Unseelie will be able to fight back after that mess. Bodies are everywhere."

Wooyoung’s eyes widen. He presses his hand against his mouth, closing his eyes to control his anger. His body trembles beneath the low light. Hongjoong instructed them that it was a brief mission, no bloodshed. But would he have guessed that the Seelie would cause their own to be deceased? Yeosang's hand grabs the side of Wooyoung's face, forcing him to look. Yeosang merely shakes his head, mouthing words.

Do not lose yourself.

Wooyoung nods slowly, taking slow breaths. They've missed a bit of the conversation.

"He will get her? That is his goal?"

"His goal is to hurt Hongjoong. Nothing else matters besides that. The human is just another body is his way."

They disappear from sight. Just as they do, the Unseelie bodies shimmer, appearing back in focus of onlookers. Wooyoung falls to the grass, fingers digging into the dirt. "They plan to kill my sunlight. My solaris. They will rid of her and we aren't there to see what they've done. We have to go back. We have to –"

"We aren't done, Wooyoung," Yeosang shakes his head. "Just a few more days. Hold on for a few more days."

"They've killed faeries, Yeosang. What if they killed one of our spark? What if Yunho–"

"You know they haven’t. Don't let yourself fall down that hole. We already have enough unstable mates, I don't need another one to fall apart right in front of me. Don't delude yourself like this," Yeosang ignores his words, sighing. "You would have felt it, Wooyoung. We are bonded. We would have felt the tear."

Wooyoung takes a long breath, "You're right. I need to calm down."

There's a pause as he stares. For a moment, he thinks that they should go back. For his peace of mind. Instead, he moves forward, hand reaching back. Without a moment's pause Wooyoung’s fingers slip into his, letting Yeosang guide him through.

—

Seonghwa wipes the floor. The stench is always overpowering. Each time a Seelie dies they leave behind such a putrid smell. A bit funny, considering how pure they are meant to be. He reaches for the knife you dropped, pausing. The look you gave them. It was like it was not you at all. He has grown used to the annoyance you've shown them, the fear when their words turned sharp. But not that kind of fear, terror. The glazed look. As if you didn't know who you are, what you were doing. It eerily reminded him of how Yunho loses himself sometimes. Seonghwa picks up the weapon, whispering. It cleanses itself at his words, harshly throwing itself back into its spot. Hopefully for good.

Jongho helped you off the floor, nearly carrying you to the room because you were so out of it. Hongjoong stared as you stepped out of the room, an unreadable expression on his face. There was nothing to be done then. Nothing they could speak about when you couldn't even think clearly. But Seonghwa just didn't like the look on his mate's face. Didn't like the slight gleam in his eye. In that moment, looking back now, he wonders if asking Hongjoong what he was thinking would change anything that’s soon to come.

He stands, flicking his hand to let the cleaning supplies pick up the rest. He sits at his table, eyeing the book he was reading once before. Seonghwa considered that you weren't a human. But he pushed those thoughts away. Assumed that he was thinking too far ahead. But now, seeing how you killed a Seelie? A human, killing a Seelie without any help? There's no possible way you're just a human.

He just has to figure out what you are exactly.

"You've been locked in here for hours."

Seonghwa barely gives Mingi a glance as he enters with hands tucked in his pockets, knowing the Unseelie would only try to calm him down. Or get angry with him, it depends on the day. "Hiding from us won't make our minds calm."

"I'm trying to figure out what's going on. Having you all speaking over each other in confusion and anger will only taint my thoughts."

"You used to find comfort in the chaos. It looks like you avoid it now. And continuously buy those toys of yours."

"You didn't have a problem with my figurines before," Seonghwa frowns.

"And I still don't now. I just can’t help but wonder why we can't be that safe place for you instead of plastic."

Seonghwa looks up from his book, finally meeting the eyes of his mate. Dried blood coats his face and clothing, white splatters burned into the fabric. He can see how his body trembles, bottom lip pulled back between his teeth. His chest tightens at the sight. Mingi lets their combined emotions affect him often. No matter how much they all insisted that he let them deal with it on their own.

Seonghwa closes his book. "You're upset."

"I want us, all of us, to be okay. But it seems like danger follows us no matter which path we take."

He sighs. "If you want us to get rid of her we will."

"I don't want that, hyung."

"Then what? What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to talk to us. Tell us how you're feeling. Stop hiding in the laboratory or library or the forest. At least try to let us in. Do you know how long it took me to calm Yunho down? I don't even think I have, he just stressed himself out to the point of exhaustion. I'm –" Mingi runs his bloodstained fingers through his hair. "I'm stuck. And I'm tired of pretending I'm okay with it all. I listen to Hongjoong's words even though I question them. I guard what you all want me to guard. I kill who you want me to kill. But I just can't stand around and accept it anymore. How long must I pretend to believe that everything is okay?"

Seonghwa watches Mingi's facade break, his rambling continuing on and on. He cannot believe he didn't notice how much it affected him. Sure, he was thoroughly involved with you, but that's no excuse to not see when one of his mates is falling into themselves. He covers his face with his hands, not bothering to wipe the blood off.

"Yunho is so lost, Seonghwa. I've seen him gone, but not like this. Not this much."

"I can talk to him," Seonghwa says softly. "You can be there too. And any of the others. Would you like that from me?"

“Yes,” Mingi murmurs. There seems to be something else in his voice. Mingi isn’t one to hide his feelings, so it comes as a shock that this is even a conversation at all. So Seonghwa continues to dig.

“And I’ll figure out how to persuade Hongjoong to take a more careful route. How about that?”

Relief seeps into Mingi’s face, nodding slowly. “I would like that.”

“Everything will be fine, Mingi. We just have to take it all one step at a time,” Seonghwa says softly. “If you’re ever bothered, I’m here. We all are.”

Mingi continues to nod, thinking. “And the human? What if we have to kill her?”

Seonghwa looks at him, unable to answer that question. Despite it being mere months since knowing of your existence, he can’t justify killing you now. Not when he is so involved with you, along with the others. Mingi seems to know the answer without Seonghwa saying anything at all. So he sits beside him, watching his mate continue to flip through the endless amount of research he has done.

After a couple of minutes, Seonghwa closes his research. Mingi watches him curiously, a box appearing on the table instead. A bit cheeky, Seonghwa places several smaller boxes of toys in front of him. Mingi picks up one, a photo of an assortment of plastic flowers branded to the side.

"I planned on gifting these to you all after I build them, but I think it'll be more fun to build together with you, don't you think?"

Mingi looks at him. He never really shares his hobby with anyone else in the spark, maybe San once in a while. Him opening up and allowing Mingi to intercept his time only makes his heart swell with glee. Mingi nods, sitting down at the table.

"It'll be fun," Seonghwa grins, slipping next to him.

—

The silence is draining.

You sit in the middle of the bed, knees tucked against your chest, head sitting on top. Mind utterly blank as you’re desperately trying to figure out why, how. What strength do you have to just murder a Seelie without help from one of the others?

You can remember the looks on their faces when they entered. Blood stinging your eyes, knife barely held between your fingers. The indiscernible face of the Seelie beneath the weapon. It didn’t look like one at all, not even a creature. Just a pile of parts. You try pushing those thoughts away, even if the image is burned in your mind each time you blink.

“Do you take us for fools?”

You barely give him any indication that you heard him at all.

“Now you pretend not to hear my words?”

“I’ve done nothing to you at all so I’m not sure why you’re even speaking to me,” you admit, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. His arms against his chest seem to cement themselves in place at your words. Him being furious with you is on the absolute bottom of your list. You haven’t even properly introduced yourself and he’s already pegged you for someone he can walk over. You’ve already been through it with Mingi. You’d rather not deal with it again.

“Your presence is threatening our position.”

“If you let me go none of this would have even happened. How is it my fault?” You frown.

San scoffs. “What a nuisance.”

“Look,” you finally turn your head, meeting the eyes of the angry Unseelie. “You can hate me all you want, but I didn’t choose to be here. Go and get pissed off with someone else for all I care, but not me. I’d rather be at home than dealing with all of you.”

“You would be home by now, but it is unsafe. I could care less, frankly. But the others do.”

“Better than dealing with a room full of strange people,” you murmur.

“It is crawling with faeries, human. If you even step near it, you will be killed. Leaving our premises might as well be a death sentence. But fine, go ahead. I doubt you won't last more than a minute outside of our borders," he turns around, giving you his back.

You don't dare test his harsh words. There's no way to prove that he's exaggerating or not, so you just settle it for yourself that it must be true. You can't help the thoughts that linger; Is Soobin okay? Would they attack him if he decided to show up at your house one day? Has he entered town at all? Have your parents tried to contact you? Why hasn't anyone noticed you're gone? There's no reason to ask San because he would just give half truths. Something you're very much used to.

You hold your fingers against your temple, humming softly. It's not enough that you're staying here. You'll only be ridiculed by one of them. Frankly, you miss Wooyoung being around. At least he was a comfort in between the angst. And what was his name… Jongho? Though your interaction was brief, he was kind to you. Calmed you down in the slightest bit. His words of comfort as he led you to this room helped.

"Do you know what you did to that thing? Why I'm standing here now? Do you even realize what it takes to take down a Seelie, human?"

"No, I don't. And my name is y/n, not human."

San stares at you. You weren't afraid of him since you've met him, but there is something in that look. Something that makes you tense. You truly doubt he would kill you at mere words. But he could kill you if he wanted to. That thought is enough for you to drop your attitude, at least for now.

"Taking down a Seelie requires strength unlike humans. Majik, unwavering strength. Mental fortitude. You have to know how to kill one, our flesh isn't as soft as a human's. We haven't been killed by one in centuries. So can you see why we're cautious of you?"

"I do," you sigh. "I do, but I don't even know how I did it? It's… there's nothing there. Nothing. When I try to think of it it's like it didn't even happen. I just remember entering the room, then Seonghwa came in and opened the door. And I had a knife in my hand. That's it."

"Why did you say what you said?" San asks.

"Say what?"

"You held the knife in your hand, you looked at Jongho. Then you said you didn't mean to. You looked terrified despite the situation. As if you didn't just kill one of the deadliest beings on this planet."

"I don't know."

"You have to know."

"San, I don't know."

Just as San steps forward your bedroom door opens. Expecting someone else, maybe Wooyoung, Mingi stands there. His eyes flick between yours and San, narrowing slightly. He nudges to the door as he looks at him. San's arms drop from his chest. He seems a bit hesitant. Mingi gestures toward the door again.

"I don't want you to be alone here with her," San murmurs.

"She won't hurt me."

It's as if you're not there at all. San continues to resist, until Mingi rests his hand on his arm. It's enough for San to nod slowly. He squeezes his arm, leaving the room. Mingi shuts the door behind him as he leaves, turning to you.

"Sleep."

"Sleep?" You repeat, and he nods.

"Sleep. We have a long day tomorrow. Yeosang and Wooyoung won't be back for days. But when they do come back, they'll have news. And we'll need to be prepared for that."

"I don't understand."

"Human," Mingi says sharply. "I get it, you're incompetent and unintelligent. But you do understand the language I'm speaking, no? You haven't the slightest idea what you have done? Did San not explain the danger to you? You killed Beomgyu, y/n."

Another name that continues to mean nothing to you. Mingi's frustration grows.

"He is a high Seelie. One of the most powerful faeries on this Earth. And you killed him. Now sleep. We must prepare you for what is to come."

He leaves.

—

You stare at your hands. A few cuts are slowly healing, scabs covering the wounds. None of them have mentioned the night. Not even San, as angry as he seems to be watching you roam around their home. Hongjoong hasn't been seen by you either. Very likely locked in that laboratory of his, experiments continuing. Mingi and perhaps Jongho, are the only two who've either greeted you or joined you in rooms. Yunho, despite how worried you are, hasn't showed up since that night. Mentioning it to Mingi wasn't the greatest idea – the painful look in his eyes made you switch the subject immediately – but you just want to know if he's okay. You saw that Seelie drag him away and there was little you could do. You ran, and he could have been killed. The least you can offer is an apology. Guilt ridden, you look up from your hands.

Mingi holds out the wooden sword to you for the nth time today. With great exhaustion, you take it from his hands. He scoffs. "You will be given a break if you knock it from my hands, human. It shouldn't be this difficult."

You hold back your frustration. "My leg is still messed up. You're taller and faster than me. How could I –"

"Use your size as an advantage. I've told you this endlessly."

"You haven't given me an opening!" Your voice rises, dropping when you see the quirk of his brow. "I just need an opening," you murmur.

"Fighting a Seelie who's trained since birth to kill won't allow for an opening. You have to defend and attack. Each time I raise my sword you freeze. You will die if none of us are around."

"I survived before."

"And you have yet to understand why or how it happened. You're at a loss just like the rest of us. Don't be foolish. Fight, because your life will depend on it."

You step back from him, planting your feet into the grass. Mingi holds no weapons in his hands. Just as you still forward Mingi flicks his fingers. Your body hits the ground again, and this time you don't bother trying to get up, groaning. "You're an ass, by the way. Didn't you all say those powers don't work on me? How can you just throw me to the ground?"

"Our influence does not work on your mind, y/n. But we can still move you. You just have to learn how to resist just like your mind has. Once you master that, we can move to true combat."

"I don't know why you can't mess with my mind!"

"Another reason why you have to stop using your pity as an excuse and help yourself. Stand and try again," he holds out his hand.

"She will be dead from exhaustion before she has even learned it," the snarky tone is one you wish you'd never hear again. Mingi stands up straighter, hands moving behind his back. He bows only slightly at the newcomer. "We have to move quickly. It is only a matter of time until one of them decides to penetrate our majik. Do you not agree?"

"I do," Mingi says simply. "But I thought you were with Yunho today."

"Jongho is tending to his care now. I've come to watch you train. By the looks of it, it only seems like torture."

You slowly lift yourself from the ground, dusting off your clothing. Mingi does not bother helping you up and neither does Hongjoong. Your legs shake as you stand, turning to Hongjoong. He rests against a fallen tree. Arms crossed, same mischievous twinkle in his eye. His gaze roams over your body, stopping when he sees the disgusted look on your face.

"What a weak, little thing. Too bad we can't just get rid of you." His fingers pull back his hair. The exhaustion riddled on his face does not move past you. All of them seem tired and drained from what's been happening. Yourself as well, body aching and limbs throbbing from your brief encounter with the Seelie you've killed. Killed.

You'd never in your life peg yourself as a murderer. And yet here you are. Gathered around many of them, yourself included. At this point you have no right to judge.

"I've already said what I needed to to you," you murmur, turning back to Mingi. "Again." You step forward and he lifts his hand again. This time you fall forward, his arm stopping you from hitting the ground head first. You push it away, straightening yourself. "Fuck this."

"You have to train–"

"I can barely walk straight and all we're going now is creating more and more bruises. What are we achieving? How have I gained anything in the past few hours?"

Mingi's brow twitches. "You haven't tried."

"I don't know if you remember but, I am a human. I can't just learn to be as strong as you by being battered over and over. I won't suddenly be able to fight against you."

Your frustration grows as you look at Mingi, a blank gaze watching you back. It's like he can't even hear what you're saying, no matter how you phrase it. Hongjoong clears his throat, distracting you.

"She's right, you know. I want you to train her. Not mangle her up to the point of her being unrecognizable." He glances at you. "y/n, do you not remember the night at all? Not a sliver of memory? It would make this all easier if you did."

"No, I don't," you say firmly. "If I did, I wouldn't let myself be thrown to the ground over and over again."

Hongjoong shrugs, "Then that settles it all, no? Mingi, change. We will be dining together shortly. Human, you do the same. Seonghwa will see you after this."

"What for –"

Hongjoong disappears from existence entirely, leaving Mingi and you alone. He steps around you, grabbing the wooden swords scattered about on the ground and placing it back in its holder. Just as he goes to leave, he turns back. "You don't seem to understand the situation we are under because of you. I've advocated for your death but everyone wants to keep you around because of your resistance to us. I hope sometime soon you find yourself useful, or I'll be the one to end your life."

There is no chance for you to twist his words, nothing that would make you believe anything other than what he's said to you. He speaks firmly and straight to the point. Very unlikely the rest of the Unseelie you've met. There's no room for interpretation. You nod, and he leaves you alone in the training field.

Ignoring the throbbing in your legs, you make your way back to the house. Despite how open it is, it’s only a facade - you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to leave. And now, knowing how much danger you’re in, you doubt you even want to.

Jongho appears through a doorway, holding a book in his hand. His gaze meets yours, flicking over you. “Are you okay?” He glances down at your leg. “Not much time has passed since you were all mangled.”

You snort, “As good as I can be.”

He joins you promptly, the two of you walking down the hall. It’s funny - his presence feels more welcoming than the others. Softer eyes, smaller smile. Nervous maybe, but still. You’d describe it as comforting.

“What are you reading?” You ask. He looks down at the book.

“San gave this to me. It’s about faeries from human tales. It’s quite interesting. Tinkling bells is my favorite,” he adds, “Ever heard of her? Apparently she’s really famous.”

“Tinker bell?” You correct, and he sighs.

“Right, Tinker bell.”

“Yes I have,” you grin, and he nods. “Why’d he give that to you? He seems like he hates humans, doesn’t seem like the type to want to learn about us. From what I’ve seen,” you add. “He avoids me every chance he gets.”

“San is…” Jongho pauses for a moment. “He protects us fiercely, yes. He hates you now because he thinks you’re a threat. But once Seonghwa figures out why you’re the way you are, things will change. It’s silly, you're slowly falling into our hearts, so he will protect you as he protects us sooner rather than later. And he enjoys human entertainment a lot. I'm sure once he gets over himself you two would get along well.” His words are easily said.

Falling into their hearts?

“You care for me? Some of you do?” you stop walking. Jongho freezes, grip on his book tightening.

“I’ve said too much,” he says quickly. “They will be angry with me,” he sighs, looking down the hall. Seemingly making the decision on his own, he turns back to you. “Yes we do care for you, y/n. Why do you think we fiercely protect you? It is not only because we’re curious about your nature. We’ve known you for a while now. Even if all of us haven’t really officially met you. We are bonded. Our care lives within us all. Mostly Wooyoung’s fault,” he scowls. “He’s stuck on you.”

“That is the spark thing Yunho mentioned to me, right? It's like a pack.”

Jongho nods, “Yes. Once we’ve chosen to be in our spark, we are glued to each other. If one of us is hurt we all know, if one of us feels strongly about something, we all feel it. So that’s why it’s so easy for us to find your presence in our lives… normal? Ordinary? I’m not really great at human words.”

“No no,” you wave off his last sentence. “You speaking to me like this is enough. And you’re very eloquent, Jongho. No need to doubt.”

His lip quirks slightly. “I can see why they’ve grown fond of you. But yes, that’s why. Ah, but more importantly,” he digs into his pocket. A rock appears in his hand, similar to one Yunho gave you at the masquerade. “Yunho asked me to place a spell on this. To monitor your health, nothing more.” He says quickly. “I cannot lie.”

“...Thanks,” you take it, staring down at the surface. “Is Yunho okay?”

He bites his lip, “He’s recovering. But it’s best if you stay away until he’s fully himself. That’s what he asked us to do. I’m sorry I can’t say anything more.”

“You’ve said what you’ve needed to, Jongho. Thank you. I’ll see you at dinner?”

He bows slightly, walking past you and out of sight. You hold the rock tightly, making your way back to your room.

—

Seonghwa doesn't come to lead you to his lab for a few weeks and that you're grateful for. Rarely have you gotten the chance to be alone. Dinner that night was uncomfortable to say the least. Silence mostly. Three seats empty. Jongho gave you small smiles and it was enough to help you get through it. But still - the future of you dealing with them watching you with caution is not one you’re yearning for.

The door to your room swings open, almost cracking against the wall. Before you can even turn to see who it is, your breath is knocked out of you. You hit the floor, well almost, he holds you up with his hand before you land. Wooyoung almost squeezes the life out of you as he holds you close, body trembling.

“You’re okay,” He whispers into your shoulder. You grip his sleeve to pull him off, and he leans back, eyes flicking over your face. “You’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. You can let me go,” you tug on him again and this time he does, helping you off the floor. Your body throbs at how he threw himself at you, bruises from whatever happened with that Seelie that night throbbing. “I see that you’re back.”

He grins, “Of course! I’ll always come back for you. I had to see Hongjoong first to report,” he rolls his eyes. “He told me to stay away from you since we don’t know what you are, but how could I leave my solaris alone?” he tilts his head, taking a small step toward you. Without thinking, you move back.

He frowns, “Solaris?”

“I’d rather be left alone, Wooyoung.”

He scoffs, brows furrowed. “What do you mean? Ah, is it because of what happened a few weeks ago? You don't need to worry, I know you won’t hurt me.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” you murmur.

“What are you saying? Don’t you know that I won’t hurt you?” It’s different from when you first met him. The snide grin, the teasing gaze. All replaced with seriousness, perhaps a bit of worry.

Are you sure of that? You know what they are, what they may or may not have done. None of them have even told you how they feed, how they hunt for their next meal. You could tell whenever they eat in front of you. The reluctance to take bites, the side glances they gave one another. You can fairly easily presume that it’s through horrid means. You’ve seen enough blood splattered around to be sure of that, at least. But will they hurt you?

Will he hurt you?

The silence must have been filling up the room too long, Wooyoung’s face dropping as he waits for your response. Would saying no be lying? It seems like each time you do lie he immediately knows. So, despite the hopeful look in his gaze, you tell him the truth.

“I don’t know that,” you whisper.

His body physically deflates, hands clenching and unclenching at your words. “You’re not lying.” It’s a statement, not a question. He closes his eyes for a moment, a breath escaping him. “I won’t hurt you, solaris. I won’t. Just as I trust that you won’t hurt me.”

His words ring as true as he means them to be, but yet… you can’t bring yourself to believe them. No matter how much you know that Unseelie cannot lie. “Okay,” you say.

“Why are you treating my words as if I’m lying?”

“Unseelie are sly.”

His eyes narrow. “I’m not lying about never hurting you, y/n. That’s not something I’d skirt around. I. Won’t. Hurt. You.”

“You say that,” you start, glancing at the open doorway. It would be silly of you to believe that you’re truly alone. All of these men you’ve met so far eavesdrop on every conversation in their home. “You say that, but if Hongjoong or Seonghwa told you to hurt me you would do it. Even if you don’t want to.”

“They wouldn’t ask–“

“But you don’t know that for sure, do you? You believe it now, but tomorrow, they could change their mind about me. What if San didn’t like my presence around here anymore? What if Yunho told you my time was up? Would you defy their words and save me? Would you?”

He stares at his hands, saying nothing.

"What if I hurt one of you like I did to that Seelie? Would you just stand by?"

"Don't say idiotic things."

"Then stop lying to yourself, Wooyoung. You do not care for me like them and you never will. Stop trying to force yourself to like me because I'm different. I don't like you, okay? I don't. So stop prying, and stop making yourself believe that there is something here when there's not."

Wooyoung stands up, shaking his head, "How could you lie?"

"For fucks sake–"

Wooyoung steps closer to you, your body sinking further into the seat. He places his hands on either side of your shoulders, eyes darkening. "You lie so easily. Why? Why do you do it?" His fingers slowly tighten. It's not enough to bruise you or hurt you, but it feels uncomfortable. If seconds continue to pass, he could just as easily break a bone.

"Let me go."

"You think we are mad? You think I am mad for caring about you? Do you have any sense yourself?"

"Let go, Wooyoung. You'll bruise her if you continue."

You look over, Mingi leaning against the doorframe. His expression is still as always, though now it rests on Wooyoung's grip. He seems to push through his thoughts, hands gone from your body. You stand up and move farther away. Closer to the entrance of the balcony. Wooyoung stares down at his hands, body trembling.

"Sorry," his tone is tight, looking up. "I got carried away."

“Hongjoong told you to stay away.”

He glances away, “I know.”

“And yet here you stand.”

Wooyoung looks at him, “Mingi –”

“Go. Before you make this worse for yourself. I won’t ask again.”

Wooyoung’s shoulders fall. He turns to see your expression but you’ve already given him your back, leaving to stand on the porch. Whatever commotion is happening behind you you’d rather avoid. Your heart hurts too much. He isn’t lying, you care for him. And you hate that you do. They’re Unseelie, beings that took you from your home because of curiosity. How could you care for them? How could you miss Wooyoung? The cool breeze hits your cheek as you slide open the door, sitting on the small stool resting against the wall. The night is clearer now that he’s back. You hate even more how the solid rock of worry in your chest is subdued since you’ve seen him. He was so close to hurting you, barely seconds away.

So why the Hell do you want to tell him it’s okay?

“He lets his emotions get the best of him,” the deep voice of Mingi fills the silence. He leans against the doorway, staring out into the night. “That’s why Hongjoong told him to stay away for a while. Though I doubt it would help that much, his excitement to see you would have only grown.”

“He cares too much about someone he doesn’t know,” you say.

“That I agree with,” Mingi nods, humming. “But you should be saying the same to yourself.”

“I don’t.”

“Human, we are Unseelie. We’ve witnessed your kind lying for centuries. I can read that expression of yours with ease,” he glances down at you. “I’m not hovering around you to pass the time. Since Yunho cannot do it right now, I’m here to watch you. Just say my name and I’ll be here. Though it is my fault right now that I didn’t come when I heard about Wooyoung and Yeosang walking around.” He rubs his face, “What a headache.”

“Thanks,” you say, looking back at the landscape. The moon is hiding tonight. “He didn’t want to listen to me.”

“Because he’s delusional,” he snickers. “Not wrong entirely, but trying to force the answer from you is very… silly. You’re welcome.”

He says nothing else and neither do you. The fear of him being around has subdued, whether it be from him getting used to your presence or not, you’re grateful. Walking on your toes is exhausting enough as it is. From the first training session to now, the two of you have grown closer. Laughs exchanged, quieter moments. None uncomfortable. Enough so that you would consider him a friend, along with Jongho. Despite this, you can't help but let your thoughts wander. It's been so long since you've seen people you actually know. One in particular that you hate you cannot get out of your head. You already have things to deal with on your own.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” he starts, closing the door behind him. He rests on the chair adjacent to yours, sitting down slowly. Ah, so he plans on staying around for a while. “Letting that weight continue will only break you in the end.”

You shrug, “It’s nothing.”

“If it was nothing you wouldn’t look so uncomfortable right now. It’s fine, I’d rather not push,” MIngi says. “But I know from experience that keeping it to yourself is not good. I may not be as comforting as Yunho or Jongho, but I’m a good listener.”

Is he? His kindness doesn’t feel fake. Still, you’re wary of his motives. After a couple more minutes of saying nothing, you push past your fear.

"I don't want to hurt anymore," you stare at your hands, watching as they tremble beneath your gaze. "I'm so tired of hurting so much, I'm tired of caring so much. He left me. He promised he wouldn't and he did. He left me, Mingi. He…" Your fists curled into themselves. "And the more I think about it the more pathetic I sound. I've been through that moment over and over again, trying to figure out what I've done, what I didn't see. But I was faithful to him, I did everything for us. I wasn't selfish. I loved him with everything that I have. And he still left me alone. Just like everyone else does. And I can't even ask him why he did it because he just left. He's gone."

A slow breath drags from between your lips. "And here I am, talking to an Unseelie about it. You probably think I'm pathetic or –"

"You keep using that word," Mingi narrows his eyes, thinking. "Pathetic. Like it's pathetic to feel emotions strongly. You know that you're allowed to feel, right?" He leans over, covering your outstretched hands with his. He’s warm. "I can't calm down your heart or tell you it will be okay, because I am just an Unseelie. We don't give empty promises. But what I can say is that you're not pathetic. His absence hurts. And you're allowed to be hurt. But you are not pathetic, y/n. Do you understand?"

There is some hesitance. Slowly, he reaches out, hand hovering over your cheek. He places it, flattening it against your skin. You warily lean into his palm. "You are not pathetic, okay?"

Eyes closed, you nod. "... Okay."

"You don't believe your words," Mingi frowns.

"Saying it and believing it are two different things."

“I told you to not lie when I can tell,” he says sharply. There’s no malice in it, frustration perhaps. But not anger. He pulls his hand away from you, standing. “Get some sleep. We’ll start again tomorrow.”

He leaves you alone on the porch. You tuck your knees close, the breeze chilly against your skin. You don’t realize it yourself, but that brief moment with him turned things for you. For some very strange reason, your thoughts no longer rested on your ex. Instead, they lingered on them. On everything that's happened since you've arrived.

They lingered on Mingi.

—

Seonghwa still hasn’t taken you back into his lab. You sit in the living room on a loveseat, eyes glued to the rest of the Unseelie. Most are here except Yunho and Seonghwa, speaking to each other about various things. San and Yeosang entwined on the seat across from you. His arm wrapped around the waist of Yeosang, words soft and quick. Almost too intimate for you to look at longer than a couple of seconds. Jongho flipping through pages of another book he has, likely given to him by San. Mingi beside him, eating an apple as he stares at nothing.

And then there’s the last two.

The feeling is subtle, at first. Hongjoong and Wooyoung laugh together. Hands roaming along each other's arms, legs entangled as they show each other the potions they have created. Annoyed glances filled with fondness. It is something that you've lost since Soobin left. Affection, especially around others, was never something he quite enjoyed. Sure, holding hands or embracing for a moment. But never this – effortless care. Whether it be from embarrassment of townsfolk noticing the two of you, or uncomfort. But watching them as an outsider just makes the feeling rise, chest throbbing. Ah, now you understand the feeling.

Envy.

"Hold this," You jump. Mingi touches your own hand with his fingers, dragging yours open to place a gray stone on your palm. "It will help that heart of yours."

Your hand closes around it, brows furrowed. "Is there something wrong?"

"You tell me. I could hear it from across the room. Thumping away."

“Thanks.”

He merely nods.

“y/n,” Jongho calls from the other side of the room. Pauses in conversation stop for a moment as he walks over, book held out to you. You take it from his hands, glancing over the words. You quickly recognize it as the Giving Tree, a novel read to you when you were a child. Jongho looked furious as he stood above you, frown only deepening. “It can’t just be a stump at the end.”

“Isn't it devastating?” San says from his spot. “I knew it'd bother you.”

Jongho turns to look at San, a scowl crossing his lips. “I wanted an entertaining tale. You gave me a book about a selfish human child.”

San shrugs, “Maybe it would finally let you let me borrow some of your things –”

“Absolutely not,” Jongho sighs. “You see what he does? He's just a nuisance.”

“Well it's one of my favorite stories,” you say, flipping through the pages. “Unconditional love with a price; hoping that it's returned but it never really is.”

“A silly story,” Mingi murmurs, but he takes the book from your hand, humming as he walks away, Jongho following close behind him. You could hear his low voice grumbling something about his book being taken away. Your eyes look over to Yeosang and San. This time, San stares at you. There isn't exactly any anger in it now, but an emotion you can't pin. It's unlike anything you've ever seen from him.

“They always bicker,” Wooyoung says, glancing back. “Don't worry too much about it solaris, a little fight won't hurt them.”

Well you aren't exactly worried about it. You don't bother responding to him, sinking yourself deeper into the couch.

“y/n.”

His smooth voice speaks through the air. Avoiding his gaze would only cause his irritation to grow, so you look at him. He holds a knife in his hand, peeling off the skin of an apple. He looks at you as he does so, taking a small bite.

“You're allowed to go.”

Everyone in the room looks at Hongjoong. The expressions range from shocked to confused. Hongjoong ignores them entirely, taking another bite. “After Yeosang and Wooyoung completed their assignment, the threat was subdued. Of course, you could have left weeks ago. All of us just needed to be sure it was safe. We put a spell around your home. No Seelie would be able to enter. No faerie can visit you aside from us. I thought you'd like to know that you can leave at any time. We would need you from time to time, but now, there's no immediate threat. And even if there were, you'd be able to take care of it better now.”

Yeosang leans up from his spot, “Hyung–”

Hongjoong holds up his hand. “Any further discussion can be done privately. y/n, leave when you'd like. None of us will stop you. And if they try,” he looks at Wooyoung as he says his next words. “They will be dealt with.”

“This isn't a joke?” You ask, slowly standing from your spot. The thought of finally being in your own home, your own place – you didn't realize how much you've missed it until this very moment. Hongjoong nods, and you would hug him if he weren't Hongjoong. Instead, you leave the room promptly. They all watch you go, presumably to your room to grab your things.

Wooyoung shakes his head, “Hongjoong, our mission wasn't successful. We did nothing to deter the Seelies. They'll come for her when they see we're not around.”

“You think I don't know that?” Hongjoong frowns, chewing slowly. “Seonghwa hasn't made any progress and Yunho cannot do experiments right now. We have no use for her other than entertainment. And wouldn't you rather our home be free of humans? Or has she hooked herself so deeply into your body you can't live without?”

“I want her,” Wooyoung whispers. “Why would you send her away?”

“She doesn't love you,” Hongjoong snorts. “It'll be a pity if you continue to delude yourself.”

“A bit harsh, hyung,” Yeosang says, moving out of Sans embrace. “If you spoke to us prior he might have been able to prepare and take the news well. Instead–”

“You know my thoughts. She was never going to stay forever. You all know this.” He passes his half eaten apple to Wooyoung, stepping around him. “I must inform Seonghwa. Discuss amongst yourselves, but it is done. She will be gone.” He waves, tucking his hand in his pockets.

Yeosang wastes no time in moving close to his partner. He can see his body begin to crumble, irises trembling at the news. His arms wrap about his mates, whispering quiet words to him.

“She's leaving, Yeo,” Wooyoung grips his shirt.

“She's leaving me again.”

—

You shove your clothing into your bag, quickly trying to pack up enough. Hoping that Hongjoong doesn't change hid mind about this. All you've known for a few months now is this mansion, this home that is and never will be yours. Being free, cord snapped, feels so … exhilarating. Never have you felt so much enjoyment to go back to that silly little down and the old bookstore. Resting on your hard mattress – ecstacy.

The bitter feeling burns your throat. Leaving them behind after knowing them for a while. Your heart hurts, to say the least. Though you kept your eyes on Hongjoong’s face as he told you the news, it wasn't only to digest it. It was to keep yourself steady, keep your thoughts solid. If your gaze ever wavered, looked over at one of the others – you would have thought twice. And if you let these thoughts stay for a while longer, you would have stayed. And that realization is enough for you to run out of here without looking back. No goodbyes. No greetings. Nothing that would make your feelings pause.

No one is in the hallways as you walk through, bag tucked beneath your arm. You step outside, rain splattering against your cheeks. As if the forest is mourning your departure. You hold your jacket above your head as you walk down the path. The feelings are too much for you to try and decipher right now.

You were in a loving relationship that ended and Soobin disappeared, leaving just a note behind. Whatever feeling that's dwelling within you right now is not what you think. You're just heartbroken, and lonely. And they're here.

It's nothing more than that.

The rain spills over the sides of the jacket, splashing against your skin. You flinch as it enters your eyes, strands of your hair sticking to your face. Just a few more steps, a few more and you'll be out of here. You won't have to see them again. You'd be free of faeries. You'd finally let go of these strange feelings.

"Won't you let me take you home?" A shimmering cloud rises from the darkness. Wooyoung conjures up in front of you, arms crossed against his chest. You stop on the path, a sigh escaping your lips.

"The bus is fine."

"Waiting for it in the downpour? What if it's late?"

You maneuver around him, frowning, "Then I'll walk."

"You live ten kilometers from our home." His footsteps follow close behind you. "And it would be safer to be with us."

"I need to get in a workout, anyway."

“You can wait a while.”

“Wooyoung,” you step over a pile of rocks. “Hongjoong told me I can go. Stop trying to stop me from leaving. This is my choice.”

“I'm not trying to stop you, solaris. I know this is your decision. But I can't help but wonder. Is it because of that estranged boyfriend of yours?" He asks, appearing in front of you again. "Is that why you're hesitant to stay over longer? Worried you're committing adultery?"

"He left me," you say through your teeth. "He has no hold over me. And I wouldn't be committing adultery since we were never married."

"Then why are you afraid of your emotions?" He tilts his head, pouting. "You care and yet you run. Everyday you spend with us you pretend to not care for us. Is that just something humans do? Run from the emotions they feel?"

"I don't have time for this Wooyoung."

Wooyoung steps closer, your foot stumbling over the saturated grass. He catches you with ease, arm hooking around your torso, pulling you close to his chest. His face is barely a breath away from you. Just as you're about to tell him you're fine, his grip tightens.

"How long will we have to wait?" His tone is soft. "For your shame of loving Unseelies to fade away?"

"I don't –"

He hums, shaking his head, "Ah ah. Don't you remember? I can't lie." He leans forward, lips hovering just over yours. "I hope we can stop playing pretend one day, my pretty solaris. I hope you can see how easily we shine together. Because I am very much drowning in my affection for you and desperately clawing for a reprieve that only your confession can grant. It is a bit pathetic," He steadies you, face pulling away from yours. The warmth of your body consumes you from his touch. If he notices it he does not mention it. He bows.

"You better catch your bus or else I'll truly have to keep you to myself," his lip lifts, gesturing in front of you. He dissipates into the night, your hurried steps running out the forest and onto the bus. There are very few others on it as it drives off, your eyes flicking out the window. For a moment you think you see the shimmer of gold between the trees.

-

“I told her you would come for her. And now that she’s gone, we’re delayed on our experimentation.”

“I said I couldn’t do anything right now without Yunho,” Seonghwa explains simply, flipping through his pages. “I’ve told you this countlessly but you chose not to listen. And you decided to let her go, not I.”

“The humans were noticing her disappearance along with her old mate,” Hongjoong pauses. “It would have brought us great exhaustion if they continued questioning what happened. I had to let her go for now.”

“Then there’s that, are we done with this conversation?” Seonghwa glances up from his research, looking across to Hongjoong. He sits on the seat that you used to occupy whenever you entered the laboratory, fingers dragging along the armrest. Somehow the action annoyed him, brow furrowing. “Hongjoong?”

“We haven’t seen you join us for dinners.”

“I’ve been occupied.”

“Occupied enough to not show your face?” He tilts his head. “I’m sure she desired your presence as well, but you’ve hidden yourself in here. What could be the reason why?”

He’s prying. Seonghwa sees it, knows he’s itching for him to tell the truth. Having a back and forth with him is the last thing he wants right now, head throbbing at the thought. So he sighs, shaking his head. "My mind isn’t itself. I want her so desperately, it's making me unreasonable, makes me want to be by her side," Seonghwa grips the desk, thinking. "This is a new sensation for me."

"This is what happens when you've rejected every advance I've given you your whole life," Hongjoong sings, hanging on the edge of the seat. "And now all you want to do is feel her around your cock because you barely fuck anyone."

The familiar warmth coats his cheeks, looking away from Hongjoong. "How vulgar. No wonder the others don't speak to you about these things."

"Is it not true?" His brow raises. "I saw as you watched her hold the knife in her hand. Her soft, human fingers wrapped around it so tightly. The way she looked for help, her lips," Hongjoong sighs, falling back into the cushions. "If I were her partner, I'd never move close to faerie territory. Why risk someone so delectable? Because of a silly dream of yours? Quite stupid."

"You're too horny to think straight. And you're only enchanted with her because she does not fall for our usual ploys. And now even more since she isn't as human as we once thought."

“I am only interested in power, Seonghwa. And she is the epitome of that. And…” he scoffs, "Me? Horny?" In the typical Hongjoong fashion, he picks at only one portion of the conversation. "You're the one clenching the table in the middle of a woe is me moment. You can barely stand straight," Hongjoong's eyes flick to his slacks. "Better take care of that. And besides, she will enjoy us."

"Saying it does not make it true. Our hands are tainted. Hongjoong. Once she finds out that we have ruined her life with her partner, she will despise us. We are tainted. Do you not see it? All of your sweet nothings, soft words to her will not work. None of it will work. There not passes a day where she does not mention him."

"But she desires us, no?"

"She does," he admits. "But she yearns for him much more. I fear there will never come a day where she does not. It is like… it feels like she is one of us. Once we choose a mate, we will never move on from it."

"She's a human."

"As far as we know, yes. But Hongjoong–"

"That means there's a chance that we will change her mind," Hongjoong murmurs. "We can change her."

"Is it wise? Shouldn't we just… leave her?"

It's as if Hongjoong does not hear at all what Seonghwa is saying, brows scrunched in thought. He looks at his mate, swallowing. "We can change it Seonghwa. She will never move on from him unless he comes back and tells her he doesn’t want her,” Hongjoong murmurs, eyes flicking across the patterns in the rug. “And he was killed before we could force him to do it.”

“There’s no going back,” Seonghwa concures.

“I agree, there’s not. But we can do something so her mourning period ends quicker.”

“And that is?”

A strange look crosses his face. "I need Mingi."

His eyes widen slightly, “Hongjoong, we shouldn’t.” Just as Seonghwa raises his hand and begins to whisper, Hongjoong dissipates in an instant, leaving the eldest alone. Seonghwa lets go of the table, pacing back and forth. He can handle this. You're just a human, nothing more. He can handle this inane desire on his own. He can handle what Mingi is going to do. Even if his own thoughts seemingly cry out to run to you, to take you as his own. He can push past that. He grabs his research, flipping through.

Seonghwa stared at the book in his hands, his eyes wide with disbelief. He had read it over and over again, but he couldn't believe what he was seeing. There, in black and white, was the answer to the question that had been haunting him for months.

He had always known that you were different from other humans since the first moment he caught your eye. You had never been truly afraid of him, even when he had first revealed his true nature to you. You had never been seduced by his beauty or his power. You had always seen him for who he was, a faerie, and you had accepted him anyway.

But now he knew why you were different. You were immune because you were not a faerie nor human at all. He had never met another being like you before. He didn't know if there were others like you out there. He didn't know if you were the only one. He didn't even know that these creatures existed. He assumed it was just folklore.

He ripped out the page, pinning it to his board. The word stands out, bold and underlined.

Lounge Act: Part One

For Yunho, living with you and San was all well and good until Seonghwa moved in and asked you to be his girlfriend. Night after night he has to listen to the antics of someone else having you the way he wishes he could have you. San just wants everyone to get along and the neighbor Hongjoong won’t stop bringing you fucking fruit baskets. 

ao3  |  m.list  

– read part two here! 

WORDCOUNT― 18.1k

PAIRING―  seonghwa x afab reader, yunho x afab reader | various lgbt+ side relationships

CONTENT― infidelity, angst, jealous yunho, comedy, halloween party, angst, curse words, possesive seonghwa, seonghwa is a little shit and knows what he’s doing (aka he’s a bad friend to yunho), hella halloween party vibes, drinking. 

SIDE CHARACTERS― hongjoong as the annoying neighbor who has a thing for every man in his life, mingi as the vibe guy who likes hongjoong, san as the chaotic best friend and room mate, wooyoung as san’s love interest, yeosang as the guy who throws the party, jongho is the nice pizza guy 

WARNINGS― this is an old fic but it’s my baby. everyone in this fic is gay except for yunho, seonghwa, and reader, meaning, all male side characters are dating or interested in each other. reminder that i do not ship these people in real life, this is fiction.  !! Reader has hickies and marks that are visible against her skin, the hickey itself is not spoken about in detail but, it is noticeable for characters in the fic so. Please read with caution if you feel it can pull you out of the story. !! 

smut tags under cut::

Keep reading

pirate!seonghwa

word count: 13k

angst, fluff (tw: attempted suicide, drowning)

“is she alive?”

“i don’t know.”

“well check if she’s breathing, you scalawag!”

“wooyoung, i told you a million times not to talk like that!”

“we’re pirates, san, how can i no-”

the sound of you choking stops the boy’s from bickering, eight pairs of eyes intently watching as salt water comes up from your lungs and spills down your chin. 

your glossy eyes snap open and look fearfully at the unfamiliar faces, immediately backing away until you slam into a hard block of wood.

“it’s okay,” you hear a voice say softly; his eyes are kind despite the slit in his eyebrow and the power in his tone.

he has the presence of a leader and captain, standing tall and confident despite his smaller stature. he walks over to you cautiously, like he’s half expecting you to jump away and throw yourself overboard. 

“i’m hongjoong,” he introduces himself, cautious gaze roaming over your face as you swallow nervously. “can you tell me your name?”

you look around at the others and find yourself pushing farther back into the hard surface, stomach twisting at the mix of wariness and suspicion in their eyes. 

they look like they’re not sure if they wanna hurt you or not and, with your track record, you know that former is probably the case.

Keep reading

Hyunjin: Age-Restricted (Part Nineteen)

Characters: Hyunjin x female reader (ft other skz members)

Genre/warnings: nanny!reader, ex-porn star/neighbor!hyunjin, generally inexperienced and painfully shy virgin!reader, fluff, humor, alcohol consumption, smut [very vanilla, protection is used wow!!!, hyunjin is just as nervous as reader lmao], if i missed anything lmk!!! (minors dni!!!)

Word count: 10,835

Summary: You think it’s luck when the new family you nanny for is so stupid rich that they rent you a fancy new apartment just so you can live closer to them. You think it’s luck when the guy across the hall is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your entire life and makes an effort to talk to you. But that’s just about where your luck runs out, because Hyunjin is more out of your league than you could ever imagine, and you’re just some hopeless virgin who never had good luck in the first place.

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Your friends were never quiet, so it was odd seeing them sit together on the couch in Changbin and Kit’s living room without screaming at each other. They were speaking quietly to each other as they glanced around the space, but that was really it. You and Hyunjin sat in the plush faux-leather armchair that matched the rest of the furniture, with you half on the arm and half on one half of his lap as you just observed, finding it all to be very amusing.

Jisung was dead silent, staring directly at the couple as they re-entered the living room with drinks in their hands. There were mostly-full cans lined up on their coffee table that your friends were sipping, and you and Hyunjin kept yours in your hands.

“I don’t even think I’ve been here,” Jeongin commented from the loveseat beside Felix. He was also looking around but seemed considerably more normal about it.

It was the first time everyone had gotten together, and you were both nervous and happy about it. You also hadn’t seen Jeongin and Felix hang out with Changbin or Kit outside of them talking to the pair from behind the desk, so it was nice seeing Jeongin in normal clothes for the first time.

Now that you and Hyunjin were official – he wouldn’t stop talking about it, but neither would you – he wanted your friends to hang out together. He thought they’d get along well, but he also wanted to include Felix and Jeongin. The two bellhops had to request the time off, but they managed to make it. But he figured if you two were going to be together, it might be best for your respective friend groups to meet considering how close you were with your four friends and how close he was with his two.

And how close you both were with Felix and Jeongin.

Your four friends were definitely nervous as hell. Chan was trying his best to be normal and be the voice for the other three, but the younger boys were obviously a little anxious about being in Changbin and Kit’s house. They were nervous about meeting the pair for obvious reasons whether they wanted to admit it or not.

Jisung did admit it very openly already. He was nervous about meeting porn stars he was familiar with, and you didn’t see any shame in that because there was no shame in watching porn. To be fair, Jisung was also blatantly excited about meeting Hyunjin properly when he first arrived.

Seungmin wouldn’t tell you he was nervous and kept saying he didn’t care either way, but you could tell he was nervous. Minho didn’t say anything, but the fact he wasn’t acting like his confident and snarky self was telling. The way they were acting was much different than how they acted when they first met Hyunjin, and you and your boyfriend — you couldn’t stop using that word — agreed it must’ve been for one reason only. 

Kit.

Both you and Hyunjin found it kind of funny and kept quietly giggling to each other, which would prompt Minho to give you a dirty look and ask what was so funny. You just told him it was nothing.

“Okay,” Kit sighed as she sat on the arm of the loveseat, beside Felix, “let’s just get this out of the way: we’re porn stars, you might’ve seen us, we don’t think it’s weird as long as you don’t make it weird. So, do we want to introduce ourselves? I’m pretty sure you’re Jisung.”

“Kittery,” Changbin whined.

But she was correct in her guess, and Jisung sat up straighter and his eyes went wider when she pointed at him. He was actually kind of star-struck realizing The Kat Valentyne knew his name.

It was obvious the couple noticed the quad’s discomfort, but they had been trying to skim over it up until Kit said something. But you kind of guessed one of them would address it eventually. You just didn’t think she would go so quickly back to normal conversation.

Just from mere guess, you figured Chan, Minho, and Jisung were familiar with both parties of the porn star duo. Seungmin seemed like the type to only really know Kit, at least in your opinion. But either way, you and Hyunjin could agree that it was her presence and energy that was more than likely making them all nervous. Changbin, despite coming across as very cool and confident, still had the ‘just some guy’ aura that made him approachable. He had a softness to him that you couldn’t explain. It was part of the reason you so easily opened up to him at the coffee shop before. 

Kit, on the other hand, was very sweet and very much a girls girl, but you would never openly go up to her unless you were maybe drunk in a bathroom at a club. The aura she let off was intimidating. It would’ve made you ask “which one?” as you got down on your knees if she asked you to lick her shoe. You weren’t sure what it was about her, but you understood why your friends felt nervous and shy as they sat on the couch and tried to drown out their nerves with alcohol. 

“What?” Kit asked. “You can literally feel the tension. I wanted to get it out of the way. Clear the air, ya know?”

“Wait,” Jeongin spoke up, “is that Jisung, though? I would’ve guessed that was the Minho guy.”

Minho almost choked on his drink before exclaiming, “Excuse you!” 

“No, that one is Jisung,” Felix confirmed with a nod.

Kit let out a small happy gasp and clapped for herself, “Ooh, I’m good at this game! Okay, my next guess is that one is the Onlyfans guy!”

Felix’s eyes went wide as his eyebrows shot up, looking at his newest best friend in surprise, “Onlyfans?”

Hyunjin smacked himself in the face with his hand, letting it stay there while he groaned out, “This is already a mess for reasons I didn’t think it would be.”

You just snorted, “You wanted to get our friends together and thought shit like this wouldn’t happen?”

“I’m not judging,” Felix quickly added on. “I just didn’t expect…you to do that.”

“Assuming she’s even right,” Changbin snorted.

“She is,” everyone who was aware of the fact – you, Hyunjin, Jisung, Minho, and Seungmin – all confirmed at the same time.

Chan’s face was beet red as he smiled sheepishly and tried to laugh it off, “Yeah, uh…good guess.”

“Felix is totally right, though. No judgment,” Kit reassured him. Then she gestured between her, her boyfriend, and over to Hyunjin. “I mean, c’mon, who are we to judge?”

“I can judge your quality and angles,” Hyunjin shrugged before sipping his drink.

“We’re kinda used to pro-grade,” Changbin nodded in agreement before sitting back in his seat and mirroring his friend’s actions.

It was actually nice having Hyunjin’s little ‘secret’ – since it was only excluding you, apparently – out in the open. Some of the jokes he made about it were funny, and you liked hearing about what goes on behind the scenes. But he also just seemed so much more relaxed, even as he interacted with his own friends. He could say whatever he wanted and not have to care.

“Okay, to be fair,” Kit spoke up again, looking at Changbin, “if they could get over meeting The Jin–” she said his name with very disappointing jazz hands like she wanted to add the pizazz to his name but didn’t actually mean it, “--then they should easily get over us.”

“Actually,” Jisung slowly raised his hand, “I’m still not over it.”

You caught the way Minho stole a glimpse to the side to look at Hyunjin. He eyed him up and down before looking back across the coffee table at Kit and Changbin. It, for some reason, made you think of the first time your three ex-roommates met Hyunjin. They had known back then, too. His weird comment about Hyunjin’s throat popped into your head.

Suddenly, you both wanted to know what he said even more, but also didn’t want to know at all.

Even now, pieces were just starting to fit into place, no matter how small.

“Well,” Kit put on a warm smile and took a moment to make eye contact with everyone in the room as she spoke – even if they may have averted their eyes only a few seconds after, “I know we’re all pretty open about our experiences, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask. It won’t be weird.”

“Yeah, I actually have one,” Minho was the one to speak up. But instead of staying facing Kit and Changbin, his head whipped around to you, eyes narrowed. “How the fuck are you over it? You’re literally dating him!”

You looked down at Hyunjin, who looked up at you. One hand was resting comfortably on your waist with the other holding his drink. He seemed just as curious as Minho was, looking up at you and awaiting your answer.

Then you looked back at Minho and replied in a tone that implied you thought that made him less cool than his friends, “Because he’s only an ex-porn star.”

As his friends laughed and even yours chuckled, you didn’t notice the look of disgust he gave you before almost pushing you off of the chair.

-

If you closed your eyes, not only did the room spin a little bit, but you would’ve sworn you were back at Chan’s apartment. Kit was loudly playing Super Smash Bros with Chan, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin; Changbin and Minho were chatting together as they came back into the room with a new bag of chips; Jisung had been sitting on the loveseat with Hyunjin for at least the last 15 minutes asking him all sorts of questions; and music was playing with the lights dimmed in the background. And you felt like you took a hit of something with how absolutely giddy you were sitting on the couch in the middle of it all. Everyone was getting along. Everyone liked each other. You and Hyunjin were together. All was right in the universe.

God, you and Hyunjin were together. In your state that was teetering the line of heavily tipsy and falling into actually drunk, you were getting so smiley and giggly just thinking about it. You watched him talk with Jisung, his full attention on him despite all the chaos going on. He laughed at something your friend had said before taking another drink, his eyes crescent moons showing he was genuinely laughing. Even though he was just in some t-shirt and baggy Adidas track pants, he still somehow looked like a God.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone look so smitten,” Changbin’s chuckle broke your eyes away from your boyfriend as the couch dipped beside you.

“I’ve been watching her stare for the last two minutes,” Felix chuckled from his other side, his controller discarded on the coffee table.

“You were just playing!” your eyebrows furrowed.

“I died a little bit ago,” he told you, still laughing. “You were staring for quite a while. I thought it was kinda cute, though. I was waiting to see how long it took Hyun to notice you.”

“Yeah, well…he’s just so…” you sighed and put your silly little lovesick smile back on. “He’s great.”

“Great, yeah,” Changbin nodded, laughing at how poorly you were articulating your thoughts but still finding it kind of adorable that you couldn’t find words for Hyunjin. “I’m glad you two worked things out. You’re good for each other. And I mean, you probably already know how in love with you he is, so.”

“He told me he is, but he won’t say the ‘L’ word in front of me because he’s afraid of making me uncomfortable,” you admitted like you were telling them the weather.

The pair seemed more than confused. Bewildered, more like it.

Felix leaned in toward Changbin to talk a little quieter to ask, “Are you… Do you…not– I mean–”

“Have you not told him you love him?” Changbin asked for him since the younger boy clearly couldn’t find a way to phrase it that didn’t sound, well, kinda bad.

You sighed deeply and rolled your eyes like the whole thing was annoying. Which it kind of was, at least your part of it. It sounded so cheesy and lame.

“So…I’ve never been in love before,” you admitted, also keeping your voice low so it was masked by the sounds of Kit and Seungmin swearing at each other, and the music, “so I don’t know, like…how to tell when it happens.”

“You told him that, though?” Changbin guessed.

You nodded with a hum, “We’re really working on communication.”

“Thank God,” Chan sighed as he suddenly turned toward the three of you. He was sitting on your left and was apparently out of the game from the way he put the controller down on the coffee table in exchange for his drink. “I mean, no offense. Why’re we talking about that, though?”

“_____ doesn’t know what being in love feels like,” Felix replied with a warm smile.

“Ooh!” Chan gasped like he was a girl in an early 2000’s movie at a sleepover, and he angled his body toward the three of you.

“Okay,” Changbin shifted a little on the couch, much like Chan had, “then let’s help you through this. How do you feel when you’re around Hyunjin?”

“Happy,” was your immediate response. “I feel…butterflies still. But I feel…mostly comfortable. I still feel nervous about some things, but I know I’m always safe with him.”

“That’s very important,” Chan nodded before taking a drink.

“To be fair, I’ve never felt more comfortable with anyone else,” you added. “So that’s also something. He’s good at making me feel more comfortable.”

“How do you feel when you’re not with Hyunjin?” Changbin wondered.

You looked back at him and plainly replied, “I wait until he calls me so I can see him again.”

The three started laughing, and Felix even squealed, “Ah, so cute!”

“Look, I dunno how to describe my feelings, okay?” you stated. “I just look at him and I think about him a lot, and I feel like I wanna start squealing and giggling, and my heart feels like it’ll literally explode from how much I like him. When I’m not around him, I want to be around him. I want to make him happy and make him feel loved and important like he does for me.”

“What about the porn star stuff?” Changbin asked. “That never bothered you?”

You paused for a second to think, eyes looking upward as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You knew the fact Hyunjin slept with a lot of other people before you – and very publicly, at that – didn’t bother you, but there were aspects about it that made you feel insecure, but that wasn’t necessarily because of him. That was your own thing you needed to work on.

“lt doesn’t necessarily bother me, I just– …Something I’ve thought about before is, like, comparing myself to the people he’s slept with,” you admitted truthfully. “But I think that’s more of a me problem. I’m just anxious and insecure. I need to work on that and it’s nothing to do with him.”

“What if it affects your next job?” Changbin continued to press.

You shrugged, “I’ll find another. There’s gotta be one out there that doesn’t care.”

“What if it means you can’t be a nanny again?”

“I could work at a daycare. When would Hyunjin ever show up there? Or I could just work in another field.”

“But you love nannying,” Chan stated, seeming sad at the fact you’d give up working with children.

You turned your head and opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You didn’t have a rebuttal. You’d just give it up if you had to. If you wanted to be with Hyunjin, you’d give it up.

“But she loves Hyunjin more,” Changbin said for you with a smirk in his tone.

And when you turned your head, there was the smirk you suspected. He was sitting back in his seat now, bringing his can to his lips, “Really sounds like love to me, honestly.”

“Your feelings for Hyunjin have only gotten stronger over time from what I can tell,” Felix said. “Love gets stronger over time. Infatuation starts out strong and then fades away.”

“You thought you were just infatuated with him?” Chan snorted. “_____, you were basically incapacitated when he ended things. I think even a metal bat could tell you have strong feelings for him.”

“But I’m basically obsessed with him,” you stated in confusion. “Is that not infatuation?”

“Yeah,” Changbin scoffed, “and he’s obsessed with you, too. It’s still love.”

You looked back at Hyunjin again, processing this. All these feelings you felt toward him that made you feel like some giddy schoolgirl, the feeling like you could never get enough of him, the intense urge to always reassure him whenever he thought he wasn’t good enough for you because of his past line of work. All of it was love the whole time, and you were so afraid of it not being that.

Even with three people telling you it was love, you were still afraid to admit it and you didn’t know why. You were afraid of being wrong. But why? Did you think you’d wake up next to him in a week and decide you didn’t want to be with him anymore? You knew that wouldn’t happen. You knew you wanted to only wake up next to him and nobody else.

“FUCK– NO!”

The sudden yell had you looking at the screen, already knowing it was caused by the game – it happened back at the apartment far too often. You saw Zelda’s final smash, and Kirby was shot off of the map in a strip of bright light, and the game was over. Zelda’s victory screen played, but you couldn’t remember for the life of you who Zelda even was, but you sure as hell knew it wasn’t Seungmin from the way he whined and dropped his head back.

The screen changed to show all the players and their ranks. Zelda in first was Player 5, who was named CUNT. Right, that was Kit. Second was Player 2, who you knew was Seungmin. The pre-written name he’d chosen from Kit and Changbin’s list was ironically enough: kit. In third was whoever was named 2dad and played Dr. Mario. And then you kind of stopped caring because you didn’t know who was who.

“How did you get out before them?” Hyunjin called over to Felix, addressing him with a head nod. 

Hyunjin had told you before that Felix is some insane gamer – well, at some games. He was still bronze in LoL and wasn’t allowed to live it down because it had been several years since he picked the game up.

“Kit targeted me again!” he laughed, pointing at the current reigning champ.

All she had to say about her win was, “Get fucked, idiots.”

If you wanted to know what you looked like when you looked at Hyunjin, it was Minho at that moment. He looked at Kit as she went back to the character selection screen looking like the human personification of heart eyes. Then he turned around toward the rest of you on the couch.

“I like her,” he nodded.

Changbin sighed, his eyes closing as he started to chuckle to himself.

“Another poor man lost to her charm,” he muttered before he downed the rest of his drink. As he crushed the can, he said, “Can’t blame him, though.”

“Alright, losers,” Kit stood with her own empty can, “I need another drink.”

As she walked toward the kitchen, you decided to get up and follow her. You missed Kit. You wanted to talk to Kit. You were surrounded by a bunch of men other than Kit. You needed to be around Kit for a minute.

“Hey!” she noticed your presence as she was bending over into the fridge. “Need another?”

“Yeah, but I also just wanted to talk. It’s been a minute,” you replied.

“Dude, I know! I missed you!” she grinned as she turned around, two drinks in her hand, and one she held out to you. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to hum Hyunjin out the window when he first told us about ending shit. He’s so emotional sometimes and only thinks with emotion rather than being rational.”

All you could do was smile and shrug. You knew he was emotional and that it had its downsides, but overall, you knew his strong sense of emotion was what made him, him. It fueled his inspiration in art, and was probably a big reason why his art was so great. It made you feel loved because he felt so strongly and just had to show it, even if sometimes it was a little too cheesy. Hyunjin was emotional, but it wasn’t entirely a bad thing.

Do I love Hyunjin? you asked yourself once again, like you had been doing ever since Hyunjin confessed.

“How’ve you been?” she continued, popping the can open. “What’s new?”

“Nothing, really. Started updating my resume the other day, and that’s about it,” you shrugged, opening your own drink. “What about you and Changbin?”

“Huh?” the man in question asked as he entered the kitchen as well, apparently also looking for a new drink since he dropped his can in the bag the pair used for recycling.

“You’re not entertaining?” she asked him, seeming exaggeratedly appalled by that.

“Well I was entertaining Minho’s little crush on you, so I was bragging about my amazing girlfriend to everyone,” he told her with a too-cute smile. “But now I’m not doing anything. I need another drink.”

Seungmin and Jeongin then entered the kitchen together, Jeongin talking about something while Seungmin nodded and replied with a lot of ‘yeahs’. The younger of the pair downed the rest of his drink before both of them discarded their empty cans.

“Nice game, Innie and Minnie,” Kit was grinning and giggling at her own nicknames for the pair. “Wanna make the next one more interesting?”

For once, Jeongin didn’t seem phased by Kit. But Seungmin was beet fucking red. It almost made you start giggling. You never saw Seungmin flustered except on a couple rare occasions when you first started getting comfortable with him. But that was years ago.

“Oh yeah?” Jeongin asked with an interested smirk. “How so?”

“Losers do shots.”

“Oh, so it’s that kind of party now?” Hyunjin asked as he sauntered in along with the remaining people in the living room.

Suddenly, said party had moved into the kitchen.

“Shots?” you immediately asked, perking up at the idea.

“God, don’t say shots around this one,” Chan groaned, nodding his head toward you as he went to grab a new drink from the fridge. “Once you get her started, she doesn’t know how to stop.”

You didn’t have a rebuttal. He was right. You liked to party with your friends and you had a hard time telling them no when they offered even more alcohol.

This, however, was new information to Hyunjin. His eyes went from Chan to you with a spark in them. Not that he was going to use this against you or anything. He would absolutely never. But he was a little interested in seeing what you were like properly drunk. Just out of pure curiosity. Would you become bolder, losing all inhibitions? Would your confidence boost to a place it should be in his opinion? 

Though, if he got to decide your confidence levels, he’d turn you into a pompous asshole, probably.

Minho seemed to be the one to notice. Despite being under the influence – both of alcohol and Kit’s charms – he was still keeping sharp eyes on your boyfriend. 

“Don’t get any ideas, pretty boy,” he warned sharply, pointing a finger across the room at him. Hyunjin’s hands immediately went up by his head in surrender. “The last time you had an idea, it sent my baby into a spiral, and if you do anything to hurt her again, you will be able to suck your own dick for your next adult film. That’s a threat and a promise.”

Kit let out an amused scoff, a few pairs of eyes going to her instead. Not Minho’s, though. His stayed on Hyunjin.

“I like him,” she stated, jutting her thumb toward Minho.

Then it was Minho’s turn to turn beet red, though he tried to pretend he didn’t since he was trying to be intimidating. 

“I feel like that kind of video would actually do surprisingly well…” Jisung mused quietly, but mostly everyone heard it.

“Especially coming from him,” Changbin scoffed in agreement, finding the fact amusing. “Jin could shit in his hand on video and it would sell.”

Suddenly, Kit turned back to you, “Have you still not seen Jinnie in action? You must’ve when you found out, right?”

Every pair of eyes were on you now, invested in the answer. Now that the conversation had switched back to porn, obviously all of your friends were more inclined to listen. This shit was interesting to them since it involved literal porn stars.

That also meant Hyunjin’s eyes were on you. If anyone was anticipating the answer, it was him. 

“I mean, Jisung showed me a video because I asked, but I only saw Hyunjin standing in the room,” you shrugged. “I was a little busy goin’ through it, so. Didn’t really want to watch him rail somebody. Or get railed. I don’t really know what the plot was, actually.”

“You watched porn with Jisung?” Minho asked, looking absolutely disgusted. You were sure you haven't seen him look more disgusted with you in your life.

“No, I watched Hyunjin stand in a room with Jisung,” you corrected.

“Why’d you ask if you didn’t want to see that?” Kit wondered, genuinely curious.

You couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing that everyone had been drinking because now all of you were being so much more open with each other for no reason.

“It was when I found out he used to do porn and I guess I needed to see it with my own eyes. I couldn’t believe that he was a porn star for whatever reason. Like, I guess I couldn’t believe I…sorta pulled a porn star.”

“Sorta?” Changbin rolled his eyes. “You had him fully obsessed with you since the day he met you.”

“Not the day we met,” Hyunjin scoffed, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

“What was that thing about ‘having a good feeling’ and ‘knowing vibes’ or whatever?” the older man reminded him before rolling his eyes again. “Shut the hell up, Hyun.”

-

The night carried on. The losers of the next round did shots, and you decided to play Smash that round because you knew you’d lose.

Chan was right. You liked shots.

Then Jisung asked if you’d do a shot with him so he wasn’t alone.

Then Kit wanted to teach you to properly do a tequila shot which included licking salt up her torso and taking a lime from her mouth. You might not have been down to do that in front of people sober, but drunk you was totally down and Hyunjin had to be the one to put his foot down. So instead you did a shot but she made you loop your arms and take them together.

“Party’s not over ‘til _____ overdoes it,” Minho said his usual slogan for when you guys used to drink on Friday nights. 

That meant it was time to go home.

Chan and Hyunjin were DD’s that night and started having water about halfway through the night. So Hyunjin was well enough to drive the two of you back to The Brooke after everybody else left.

Hyunjin had also started asking you to drink more water, along with Chan and Changbin. While they did want to have a good time and get a good drunk-ness going, they weren’t looking for people to get blackout. They wanted to make sure you’d be okay later when you got home, as well as hangover-free in the morning.

But still, because of your state, Hyunjin asked if you wanted to sleep over so he could look after you just in case.

He lent you a baggy t-shirt of his to sleep in, and he changed into a t-shirt and some shorts before you both got into bed. You were in your underwear and just one of his shirts, and the alcohol in your system was making you feel much bolder and more confident. Any anxieties you may have still had left about intimacy with Hyunjin had gone out the window, and you had managed to initiate a makeout session that Hyunjin was perfectly fine with.

Up until you kept going further.

Hyunjin had no qualms with letting his hands explore your body. That wasn’t super new. He was fine with you starting to rut against his thigh while your tongues moved together. But when his hands gripped your bare waist and you took that as an invitation to try and take your own shirt off, he knew something was up. He simply pushed your hands back down instead of saying anything. He was afraid of hurting your feelings if he verbally denied you.

But you mumbled against his lips, “I think I’m finally ready.”

He had to laugh softly at that, breaking away from your lips, “Babydoll, you’re drunk. You can’t make that decision.”

You pulled away further to look at him, “It’s only mild now. And besides, it helps with confidence. So it’s better this way.”

Hyunjin looked deep into your eyes, looking at you very seriously as he held both of your hands to his chest, “_____, I need you to understand how much I want you and how insanely in love with you I am. Okay? But I cannot let you make these kinds of decisions under any sort of influence. We’re waiting until you’re sober and ready.”

“I want to lose it to you sober, too!” you pouted. “I’m just not as confident to do it then. Then, I’ll panic. But I’m brave now!”

His heart was beating a million miles a minute in his chest hearing that. You wanted to lose your virginity to him. This was something you had thought about and considered. You wanted him to take it. You trusted him to take it.

“I don’t need you to be brave, I just need you to be comfortable,” he chuckled, trying to ignore his own feelings for a moment just to make sure he let you down as gently as he could. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel unwanted or to just straight-up cry. “If you start panicking, we’ll work it out like we always do. So please wait to do that. For me?”

You let out a sigh, but he could tell it meant you were conceding. He smiled warmly at you and pressed a kiss to your nose.

“Are you sleepy?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you told him.

“Here.”

He shifted the two of you until you were laying with your head on his chest and one of your legs was swung over his hip. He laid on his back, staring at the two of you through the mirror above. The warm glow of the lamp made it easy to see and made everything seem so cozy.

In the silence, he went through things that happened at Kit and Changbin’s. Specifically, the question Kit had asked popped into his head.

“Have you still not seen Jinnie in action? You must’ve when you found out, right?”

You had seen part of it, but not the whole thing. Part of him wondered if now that you two were alright, if you ever got curious. Had you just lied at the party because you were embarrassed? Had you finished the video or even looked up a new one? Had you actually seen him before?

“_____?” 

“Hmm?”

“Did you really only see that one part of that video?” he wondered, looking down at you.

“What?” you looked up at him in confusion.

He chuckled, “My film Jisung showed you. Did you ever go home and finish it by yourself?”

“No,” you replied truthfully.

“Have you…ever wanted to watch me?”

“I’ve gotten curious, yeah,” you admitted, going back to your original position. Even a little drunk, you felt flustered admitting this to him and didn’t want to look at him while you spoke. “Especially now that we’re okay again and you said you love me and everything. I don’t know, I’ve been more…curious, I guess. But I didn’t want to look you up unless I knew it was okay with you. It felt like some kind of invasion of privacy.”

Hyunjin was actually touched you didn’t look him up without asking first. And honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to – at least not yet.

“I don’t mind if you watch my videos,” he said slowly, “but maybe only after we’ve actually had sex first.”

He wasn’t sure why he felt slimy saying that, but he did. He even made a face even though you weren’t paying attention.

“Can I ask why? Not that I’m upset,” you quickly added. “Just wanna understand your thoughts.”

He took a deep breath before letting it out all at once, “I just… I guess I’m scared you’ll have these expectations of me. I don’t want to feel like you’re expecting porn for your first time. I know it’s about what you want, but if I am the one who takes your virginity, I want it to be sweet and special. Not whatever video of mine you watch.

“And I want you to see me for yourself first,” he smirked down at you before kissing the top of your head. “Don’t spoil the surprise, dummy.”

“I have literally had your dick down my throat already,” you reminded him, looking back up with him with your own teasing smile. “Who’s forgetting things now, huh?”

“I’ll take that reminder in the morning,” he smirked back before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Go to sleep.”

You got comfortable on his chest again, but you still weren’t tired. Your mind was also wandering. You thought about him telling you that he did want you, and obviously that turned you on even more so you were currently just trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. But, of course, your mind wandered. You thought of the short snippet of Hyunjin you had seen in the video. How he pressed the girl against a wall and said something seductive in her ear. You hadn’t necessarily thought about watching one of his videos until that night when you were asked, but now you decided you really wanted to.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he had said lowly in his counterpart’s ear, looking like he could devour her.

“Hyunjin?” you spoke up suddenly, your voice sounding somehow sadder and quieter than he expected. Like you were a child not wanting to disturb their parent.

“What’s up, baby?” he asked, gently stroking up and down the skin of your arm with his fingertips.

“Remember when we met and we said we would be friends and reach out and stuff?”

“Yeah?”

“You told me you’d hold me to it.”

“Where’s this going?” he asked softly.

“That was the line you said in the part I watched,” you explained in a quiet voice. You were worried this was going to open up another can of worms, but you needed to know why he said one of his own lines from a porno to you. 

Hyunjin let out a soft sigh like he didn’t want to tell you something. And it wasn’t necessarily anything bad, but he was worried the way it sounded would’ve made things worse considering your original fear was that he was using you. He had just hoped this conversation wouldn’t have been brought up until maybe you were married or something.

“I kind of just…assumed people would recognize me, so I thought maybe you would, too, when I met you,” he explained, looking up at the ceiling. He was currently watching the way your fingers played with the material of his t-shirt. “When I first saw you, I just thought you were cute and I was kinda hoping to maybe…hook up with you. Which I don’t usually have one-night stands, but it had been a while and I mean, my neighbor was this cute girl around my age so what else was I supposed to do? I dug down deep for that porn star confidence and I guess that line was burned in my brain somewhere.”

He chuckled, but was also pausing to gauge your reaction. You let out a soft hum of a laugh, and that was good enough for him.

“But,” he continued, “you didn’t end up taking the hint to come knocking on my door later, so nothing came of that. You didn’t even really go out of your way to talk to me, actually,” he scoffed, finding your shyness amusing. “So I tried going out of my way to talk to you, and that’s when the crush started. I just thought everything about you was cute. And then I found out that you weren’t as experienced, and all I wanted after that was whatever you were comfortable giving me.”

It was silent for a moment, and Hyunjin was worried he’d upset you.

“Baby?”

“You were trying to use your porn star rizz on me?” you finally asked.

He laughed, but it was to cover up his sigh of relief that you weren’t upset. He was scared you’d go back to thinking he was using you, and while his intention at first was just to sleep with you, that all quickly changed.

“It worked because here we are,” he pointed out, holding you a little tighter.

“Not well enough because you still never got laid,” you snorted back. But then you lifted his head and looked at him with a ‘what if?’ face. 

He rolled his eyes and pushed your head back to his chest, “Goodnight, _____.”

“I’m serious, though!” you insisted but kept your cheek against his chest. “I want you to take it. I just need to be less judgy of myself.”

“You shouldn’t be judgy. I think you’re absolutely beautiful and I lo– …I really like every part of you.”

“You already dropped the ‘L’ word once tonight.”

“Yeah, to get a point across so you wouldn’t think I was denying you. I don’t want to make you feel obligated since I know we’re not really on the same page there yet.”

God, that was gonna send you down that rabbit hole again. You already spent so much time wondering if you were feeling love or not. You over thought it constantly, and you were still scared you were wrong even after the reassurance from your friends. You wanted to talk to Hyunjin about it, but you were worried that he wouldn’t take you seriously if he knew you were still buzzed. So you just thought about it silently.

But you did eventually get tired, only focusing on Hyunjin’s fingertips on your skin. Your eyelids got heavier and your breathing got slower.

“_____?”

He hadn’t noticed you slowly falling asleep in his arms. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, wondering where you stood with him. You hadn’t really talked about the love thing since he first confessed, so he wanted to know where you stood now. He wanted to know if there was maybe anything that needed to be clarified or talked through. He knew you were essentially lost with all of that.

The soft hum you replied with told him you were barely awake, too sleepy to even form words.

So he just smiled to himself and pulled you in a little closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, “I love you.”

You hummed again.

-

Hyunjin had learned you were a relatively light sleeper. You had told him you wake up whenever he moves, but you’re usually able to just go right back to sleep. You wake up if he doesn’t close the door quietly enough when going to the bathroom. You wake up over most things, but usually just go back to sleep within the next 60 seconds. But he figured because you were trying to sleep off the alcohol that you wouldn’t wake up when he left to go to the kitchen.

He barely slept. What sleep he did get was in a half-asleep state that didn’t feel refreshing at all. The clock said it was almost 3am so he’d only been laying in bed for a few hours. His mind had been racing ever since you fell asleep and he was left alone with his own thoughts. He thought over everything you two had talked about before you fell asleep, and that ultimately sent him spiraling.

He got some water, hoping it would calm him down. He just needed to sleep it off. He was only this anxious because it was nighttime and his emotions were higher. If he woke up in the morning and still felt this way, he could talk to you about it. You’d understand, anyway. He just had to get through the night. It was nothing to worry about right now, anyway. It wasn’t like anything was going to happen tonight. You were dead asleep.

He finished his glass and walked back upstairs to his bedroom. But upon opening the door, the lamp was back on and you were sitting up on your phone.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked quietly. “Do you feel okay?”

You nodded, “I’m good. Not nauseous. A little hanxiety but that’s it.”

He chuckled as he walked over to his side and got back in, “Why’re you on your phone?”

“You left the bedroom so I wanted to make sure you were okay when you got back,” you told him, locking your phone and looking back at him. “Where’d you go?”

“I…couldn’t really sleep,” he admitted, looking down at the duvet. “I’ve just been thinking a lot.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you offered, resting your phone back to charge on the nightstand before giving your full attention back to your boyfriend.

Hyunjin ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a deep sigh, “Honestly, I’m… I’m really nervous about taking your virginity.”

That genuinely surprised you, eyebrows raising, but otherwise, you tried to keep your expression neutral. Hyunjin was nervous about having sex with you? The tables really turned in a way you didn’t expect.

“I know it sounds silly since I used to have sex all the time,” he chuckled before you could figure out how to reply, “but I’ve just…never taken someone’s virginity before. And I know we both just kind of…assumed it would be me, but hearing you say before that it would be me and that you wanted it to be me, I just– I don’t know, it really hit me then. And, like, I know virginity isn’t even real and it’s just a social construct and whatever, but it’s a big deal to you and it’s a big deal to me. I know you said the thing about me making it perfect was just a joke but I really do want it to be perfect.”

He turned to look into your eyes, and you could see the fear and uncertainty of himself in them, “And I’m scared it won’t be everything you want it to be. I’m scared I’ll somehow ruin the trust you have in me.”

You scooted closer to him and held his face between your hands. You held eye contact with him so he knew you were absolutely serious.

“If it’s with you, I know it’ll be perfect,” you told him. “It sounds so cheesy and lame that I didn’t even wanna say it, but it’s true and you need to hear it. I know I can trust you. You always make me feel safe. You stop when I need you to. You guide me but you don’t push me. You can’t mess up anything. Yes, I’m nervous to lose it, but not because I think it’ll be bad. It’s just…being perceived. It’s all me stuff that I’m worried about. Absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“Well I’m worried about me…” he mumbled with a pout.

“Hyunjin,” you said his name a little intensely, trying to get him to understand how serious you were. “I wouldn’t have told you I trusted you to take my virginity if I didn’t mean it. I trust you. If I didn’t trust you that much, I wouldn’t have done any of the other things with you.”

He let out a deep sigh, his head falling back against the headboard and slipping from your hands, “I don’t know… I can’t shake the anxiety of it. I think this is the closest I’ll get to feeling how you feel.”

You both shared a soft laugh at that, and you got on your knees to straddle his legs so he had to look at you. You studied his face as his hands immediately rested on your hips, your hands gently rubbing over his shoulders. You weren’t sure you’d seen him this stressed before. You could see it all over his face and deep in his eyes. This was getting to him and it was kind of endearing how much he cared. Still, you didn’t want him to be this worried about it.

“Jinnie, I’m absolutely 1000% sure everything would be perfect just because it’s with you,” you promised.

“Because I’m a porn star?” he joked, gently rolling his eyes. “I just know what I’m doing?”

“Because I love you.”

His head snapped up and his fingers gripped your waist tighter.

You didn’t mean to say that. You just thought it and it came out before you could overthink it. You just…felt it. It felt right to say. You knew losing your virginity to Hyunjin would be everything you could ever want simply because it was him you were losing it to, because you loved him.

“You love me?” he asked, his eyes wide as a smile started to creep on his face.

Your cheeks felt warm as your fingers started to play with the ends of his hair, “I’ve been wanting to say something for a while but I was overthinking it because this is the first time I’ve experienced being in love and I don’t know how it’s supposed to feel so I’ve just been second guess–”

“You’re spiraling,” he chuckled, bringing a hand up to your cheek and gently rubbing your skin with his thumb.

You inhaled deeply before letting it out in a sigh, “It’s just scary, I guess. But I know I mean it.”

“Love can be scary, but so are a lot of things we’ve done together,” he reminded you. He gently guided your face down to his, moving closer and closer. “Can you say it again?”

You giggled softly and told him, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he replied in a whisper before his lips were on yours.

Immediately, the kiss was passionate. Still soft and slow, but his tongue almost instantly slipped past your lips to deepen the kiss. His hands moved to your back to pull you as close as he possibly could, making you shift on his lap. He let out a soft groan at your movements against him, and the way it instantly sent butterflies in a frenzy in your lower stomach had you gripping his shoulders harder.

What if this was it? All this talk about losing your virginity to Hyunjin definitely had you thinking that maybe this was all leading up to something, and the more you talked about it, the more you wanted it to happen. It made you feel nervous and excited all at once. Like you wanted to throw up and also start giggling. It actually…kind of turned you on.

It wasn’t very long before you could feel Hyunjin’s semi starting to poke at your clothed core. You couldn’t resist ever so slowly making the smallest movements to rut against him. But he could still tell, letting out soft moans into your mouth. One hand held your hip while they ground down a little harder with every pass, and the other was cupping your jaw as your tongues and lips continued to move together.

Gently, he began moving you. He was rolling so he was straddling you, your lips never disconnecting. He slid the two of you down until you were laying down on your back with Hyunjin above you. He continued to slowly roll his hips into you, no doubt leaving a big wet patch on your panties. Your knees locked around his waist as your hands went to tangle in his hair.

“Jinnie,” you murmured into the kiss.

“Hm?” he hummed as his lips started to trail down your jaw and to your neck.

“W-want you…” you admitted, though it made your cheeks heat up and your voice was shaking even though you meant it. “Can we…?”

“What do you need from me, baby?” he asked like he was asking if you needed a glass of water. His lips left big, wet kisses across your neck in between words. “Do you want my fingers? Or my tongue?”

“No, Hyunjin,” you guided his face back up to yours and looked up into his eyes. “I want you…”

Hyunjin swallowed thickly. For a split second, he looked like he could’ve pounced. But it went away as quickly as it flashed across his face, so you wondered if you imagined it.

His expression was soft, almost like he felt bad for you.

“Not tonight, love,” he told you in a soft voice. “You were really drunk earlier and you might–”

“I’m completely sober,” you told him, refusing to break eye contact even though you were feeling beyond flustered having to admit any of this to him.  “I’m making this decision with a sound mind. I want to do this with you. Right now.”

“Now?” he repeated. “You don’t want to have flower petals and candles and–”

“No. No theatrics. This is what I want. Just us in your bedroom at 3am. I want this. Right now.”

He seemed to be thinking it over. You wondered if he wanted to pull out all the stops. If maybe this had burst his bubble of how to make everything perfect. If maybe he was going to say no because his anxiety over perfection would get the best of him.

To him, all the theatrics were part of the perfection. Didn’t everyone want that big romantic gesture? The red rose petals across the bed? The candles? The lingerie? The music? Why would you just want him in a t-shirt and shorts on a random morning at 3am? What about this was romantic or perfect?

“Please?” you asked softly, trying to pull an answer from him. “I don’t want you to agree if you’re really not comfortable, but I promise I’m sober and I want this with you. I don’t want anything more than just you.”

He bit his lip, looking into your eyes and searching for any amount of doubt or uncertainty. He refused to go forward with this if you were even the tiniest bit unsure, but all he found was you looking back up at him with wide eyes that were so sure that you meant everything you said. He saw how much you trusted him and how much you loved him all in your eyes.

Truthfully, who was he to tell you what scenario for losing your virginity was perfect?

“Please tell me to stop if you want to stop,” he requested. “Even if you’re the tiniest bit anxious, we’ll stop or pause or whatever you need to do. Okay? You need to tell me.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging on your lips, “I will.”

Already, your heart was hammering in your chest knowing that this was it. But you wouldn’t tell Hyunjin that. He’d assume this anxiety was bad and he wouldn’t do it. But this, for once, was good anxiety. It was a healthy anxiety, you thought. Because of course any new thing would make you anxious, but you were with Hyunjin. You were absolutely positive you were in safe hands.

His lips reconnected with yours, and slowly, your hands began roaming each other's bodies. Hyunjin was making sure to take the lead, and he was going to lead slowly. He was going to make sure the entire time that you were comfortable, taking time to lead up to every next step so you could be properly adjusted to everything and nothing could take you off guard or make you too nervous.

His shirt was the first thing to come off, your hands immediately running over his warm skin. Then his shorts were shoved off. But he waited until almost last to even think about beginning to run his hands up underneath your shirt. He already knew how you felt about yourself so he was going extra slow with undressing you, waiting for you to either feel comfortable enough to let him, or waiting for a sign to stop.

You felt that familiar bad anxiety starting to creep up as his palms slowly moved up your stomach, pushing the shirt you’d borrowed up with them, “H-Hyunjin…”

“You want it on?” he asked, his hands immediately freezing in their place, just under your breasts. His face was just far enough away that he could look into your eyes. “I can leave it. Are you still okay?”

You nodded in small movements, “Y-you can take it off, just…don’t look at me too blatantly, okay?” you let out an airy, nervous laugh, but Hyunjin fully chuckled at your wording. “Don’t be obvious.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sneaky about gawking at my beautiful girlfriend,” he promised through soft laughter as he kissed your lips again.

Hyunjin was the king of distractions until you were comfortable, though. You had already learned that, but you had forgotten until now. He kissed and sucked at your neck and played with your nipples under your shirt to get you lost in all the good feelings. You were so caught up in the stimulation and your soft moans that you didn’t even realize he’d pushed your shirt up until he was breaking away from you to lift it up and off your body. But, as promised, he immediately went back to kissing you instead of sitting up to finally admire your body underneath your clothes. 

But he was sneaky, and fuck, did he think you were beautiful. He’d never seen you without some sort of top on, and now he wondered how he could keep you from ever wearing a top again. He understood why people had insecurities, but he almost became that person who scoffed and wondered how you could be insecure in the first place. You were so gorgeous and he wanted to physically fight whoever had made you think in your life that you weren’t. 

“I didn’t think I could get more obsessed with you,” he chuckled as he kissed down between your breasts until he reached the center of your torso while hands kneaded the soft skin of your hips. “I don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you from now on.”

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, looking up at him.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who’s in love with me, so.”

Suddenly, you felt pressure on your clothed clit. Hyunjin was rolling small circles with two fingers and kissed you just in time to swallow your quiet moans. He could feel how wet you already were through your underwear, but he was going to make absolutely sure you were prepped enough before he even got your underwear off. He didn’t care how painfully uncomfortable he was getting in his own underwear.

He slid his hand underneath the material and tried sliding in two fingers, finding they fit pretty easily. He thrusted them slowly while skillfully rubbing your clit with his thumb. He may have been subtly rutting against your leg to get some relief of his own, but what else was he supposed to do when you sounded so beautiful and every small scrunch of pleasure on your face made his dick twitch?

Finally, he guided you to lift your hips for him to take your underwear off, followed by his own. He straddled you, continuing to softly but passionately kiss you while he expertly reached into the drawer of his nightstand to grab a condom. You could hear him rummaging around and you knew what was coming and it sent your heart leaping up into your throat. Was it going to hurt like you were told in sex ed? What if you didn’t like the feeling? What if you were just one of those people who didn’t like penetration like you’d seen online? 

But you still never felt compelled to tell Hyunjin to stop. You told yourself you’d both figure it out if it came to that, because you knew that was what would happen. And everything would be okay.

Condom on, Hyunjin pulled away to tell you, “I’m gonna go slow.”

You just nodded in reply, keeping your eyes closed to prepare for whatever feeling may come next.

His hand cupped your cheek, coaxing you to open your eyes. When you did, he looked concerned, “Are you still okay?”

You nodded again, but this time vocalized quietly, “I’m okay.”

“Just hold onto me,” he told you gently, rubbing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “It shouldn’t hurt, but just tell me what you need, okay?”

“Okay.”

He dropped his head back down to your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses there just in case you needed the distraction as he slowly pushed into you. For a moment, his hips stuttered and you heard him take in a sharp breath, muttering a soft curse to himself.

You were so tight. He thought he was going to lose his mind. Even with a condom, he could feel how absolutely wet you were, and the fact your walls were pressing so tightly around his cock was making him worried he was going to cum after the first full thrust.

Your eyes were closed – you were still afraid of making eye contact with yourself in the mirror above his bed – and your eyebrows were furrowed but it didn’t hurt. It was just…different. It was definitely a stretch that you weren’t familiar with, but that was the most uncomfortable thing about it.

Hyunjin let out a breath as he bottomed out inside you. He finally looked up to check on you, resting his forehead against yours. Even in the dim lighting, you could tell his pupils were absolutely blown out.

“Good girl. You’re doing so good,” he breathed, cradling your face between his hands. “Still feel okay? Doesn’t hurt?”

You shook your head, “Doesn’t hurt. Just…weird.”

He chuckled, “It’ll get better, I promise. Do you want me to move?”

You nodded. He slowly pulled back out, biting down on his bottom lip, before he thrusted back in with the same slowness.

While he was feeling absolutely everything, he could tell you were too in your own head again. You were waiting to feel whatever you thought you were supposed to feel, rather than letting yourself go to just be in the moment and get riled up. You were overthinking it, thus, not in the right headspace to experience what you were looking for.

As always, Hyunjin was the master of distractions. Passionate makeouts, sucking marks all over your neck and chest, playing with your clit, and of course, non-stop whisperings of praise.

“Taking me so well, like you were made for me,” he’d murmur as his plush lips explored your chest.

“My baby’s doing so good for me,” he kept breathing with his lips right by your ear as he picked up the pace. “So, so, so good.”

He wasn’t sure why the hell he’d keep talking to you when you clenched around him every single time, which slowly stole his sanity away. He was holding on by a prayer at this point, but thankfully, you were starting to let out soft moans, nails scratching lightly at his skin.

“Feel good, baby?” he asked with a small smirk.

“Y-yeah,” you whispered out, eyes still closed. “Feels s-so good, Jinnie…”

Back during his sex days, he was a man of hard and fast sex. He liked things rough and dirty. He could never imagine ever having an actual good time during slow and soft sex because he hated those shoots the most. He found them boring and he had the hardest time for a while trying to even get himself to finish by the end. But god, he was pretty sure holding you close while he thrusted slowly and deep inside of you was tied for first now. He couldn’t have been happier. He didn’t want the moment to end.

But it would eventually, because not only had he been ready to cum basically since the beginning, but you were feeling him in places you didn’t think anything could reach. You felt that full feeling that you’d seen and heard people talk about, and mixed with Hyunjin’s skilled fingers and his constant praise between his own moans, you weren’t going to last much longer either.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked in almost a coo.

You nodded in quick, small motions. He could see it all over your face. Your eyebrows furrowed and you were biting your lower lip. You were clenching more and more and harder and harder and it was driving him crazy. But he wanted you to cum first. He needed you to cum. God, he needed to feel you cum around him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he promised, his forehead resting against yours like it had been most of the night. He only moved to lean in enough to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Cum for me, love.”

“Hyunj-jin,” your whimper was so high and quiet that he almost didn’t even make it out.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“L-love you,” you breathed between moans that got higher and higher in pitch. “Love you s-so much.”

“Say it again,” he panted. This was the push he needed. He wanted to hear you tell him that while he came. “Please.”

“I love you,” it was almost inaudible because you were right on the edge, and as soon as you got those three words out, your jaw fell open as you continued to look up right into Hyunjin’s eyes. 

Nothing even came out of your mouth as you came the hardest you had in your life. He inhaled sharply as your walls clamped down around him, fluttering and pulsing as he helped you ride out your high, but that triggered his own. His lips crashed into yours, swallowing his moans in wet kisses as his lips gradually slowed. You were whimpering softly by the time he completely stilled, his softening cock still buried deep inside you.

He pulled away only to slowly leave soft kisses all over your face, brushing hair away from your skin that was coated in a light sheen of sweat. Your eyes closed as you caught your breath, and you wondered how you could even feel tired when you didn’t even do anything. Hyunjin did it all.

“I love you,” he murmured between kisses. “I love you so much, ____.”

“I love you,” you replied as one hand lazily raked through his hair.

He lifted himself up enough to really look at your face, chuckling as he brushed the back of his knuckles against your cheek. Maybe you were right about now being perfect. There was something so romantic about just holding each other close in the warm glow of his lamp in his bedroom.

“God, I’m so in love with you,” he smiled softly as he just watched you lay beneath him, still completely naked. Your eyes opened and you looked up at him, wondering what prompted him to say that, but a smile creeping onto your face nonetheless. This was something he could get used to. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

————✧♡✧————-

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Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙭𝙭𝙞𝙞𝙞. 𝙜𝙤 𝙖𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙧𝙮, 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Nov 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

“Either my eyes are playing major tricks on me, or you’re positively glowing, darling.”

Minho’s observation takes you not so much by surprise as by the throat. In fairness, the chances of returning to an empty apartment were slim. You knew this was coming.

“Who, me?” you scoff.

“No, all the other people here.” He rolls his eyes. “Yes, you.”

You turn to your phone as an alternative to facing Minho’s discerning eye, all-seeing fucker that it is. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He hums, unconvinced, closes his laptop, and stretches his legs out from where they were tucked under him. “How was your shift?”

You shrug, scrolling very deliberately. “The usual caffeinated nightmare. Supervisor Jin kept us an extra hour for ‘training’. There’s only so many ways to make a damn coffee, you know? I mean; I guess he has, like, a quota or whatever to hit with staff training so I get it, but he could at least make it interesting. Or beneficial. Or marginally better than what I imagine death to feel like.”

You glance up; Minho regards you with cool complacency, chin in the palm of his hand. Blinking slow. You keep talking.

“It makes me wonder on his personal life. Like, he must not get many chances to interact with people outside work. He’s the kind of guy that wants to stay an extra hour because going home is worse than being at work which, like; imagine that? Couldn’t be me. I just think he’s—”

“Baby.”

Minho’s calm address is a sledgehammer to your rambling.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

You blink, shrug. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on.”

“You’re spiralling.”

“No.”

He huffs a sigh. “Do I have to make this an argument to get the truth out of you? I’d really rather not.”

Guilt kicks in your chest. “No. No, you don’t. Sorry. I just—” You toss your phone to the sofa. “I did a thing.”

Minho shifts his laptop aside, rises from the armchair and slots gracefully beside you on the two-seater. He takes your hand to stroke it. Warm. Comforting. Him.

“Tell me,” he says.

“I don’t know if I can. Feel kind of guilty.”

“Well, now I'm intrigued.”

“Min...”

He pats your hand. “Guilt is usually born from regret. Be upfront with me and you’ll have no reason to feel guilty.”

Which makes a sort of sense, you suppose. You didn’t tell Minho you were meeting Changbin, didn’t tell him of your attraction (glaringly obvious though you feel it is). What exists for you as fact has been dirtied by the brush of secrecy— you wouldn’t normally protest, and yet:

“I fucked Changbin.”

Minho’s brows knit, then relax, then come back together. His hold on your hand loosens. His mouth opens and shuts. He runs his hands through his ash-blonde waves.

“You had sex?” he asks, pitch higher than usual.

You nod.

“I— When?”

“Just.”

“Just?”

“Today. After work. At his parents record store. I met him there, we hung out a bit, and—”

“Then he put his dick in you.”

He did. God, he did.

Minho folds his arms. “So?”

“So, what?”

“Was he good?”

“Min—”

“No, come on. We can talk about it. It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. I want to hear about it. If you’re down for sharing.” He drops a hand to your thigh, breath hitching. This scenario only exists in the filthiest recesses of your little black box, amongst the cobwebs and discarded gimp masks. He shouldn’t want to know. Why would he want to know?

Heart pounding, you answer him. “He was good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

His hand travels up your thigh. Whatever he’s easing you into, you’re not sure you’re equipped for it. Fear that it might debilitate, because a single sentence—a single word—from him could expose her; the pathetic thing that writhes beneath your skin and would push through given half a chance.

Then he says it.

He says it, and it’s just—

“Tell me what he did to you.”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ♡ 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

mists of celeste ➻ eighteen

➻ pairing: ot8 x fem!reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 6.6k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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mists of celeste act two ➻ part eight

​​​

Seonghwa steps out of the bathroom with a towel in hand and wet strands of hair clinging to his forehead. You glance over at him from your place on the bed, body already showered and bundled up under the layers of blankets and sheets. Seonghwa’s gaze is as soft as his smile as he looks over you. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open though, and if you stay bundled up like this, you’ll fall asleep at any second.

“You look tired,” Seonghwa says as he rubs the towel over his dark hair.

“Do I?” You huff out a small laugh. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“I went easy on you,” Seonghwa remarks, smile stretching his lips wider. You roll your eyes at his light-hearted comment and pull the sheets up to your chin.

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mists of celeste ➻ twenty-four

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ word count: 6k ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ chapter warning: depictions of an explosion in this chapter, as well as short mention of torture. please read with caution ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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act three ➻ part six

​​​

You’re off the ship again today. Despite Hongjoong’s near breakdown yesterday, Seonghwa dropped by early in the morning to say that everyone had a day off to relax and recover. He and Hongjoong still had meetings to take care of, so even with Hongjoong’s insistence about a lack of time, he can’t do anything about it quite yet. Not until the end of his meetings today at least. Yunho was the only person excited to hear the news, and that’s only because he wanted to drag you out by the heels to visit the capital today. Something about seeing that festival he had mentioned to you before and showing you all the beautiful things Reinig has to offer? Said man is currently speaking to you, but his words go in one ear and out the other. You don’t intend to blatantly ignore him; something else occupies your attention, and that’s the white flakes falling from the sky.

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mists of celeste ➻ twenty-five

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 5.5k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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act three ➻ part seven

​​​

“Sorry to interrupt, but… Hongjoong asked to see you on the bridge, Y/N.” A breath of hesitation, just long enough to cause a spike of anxiety in your gut. “Alone.”

“Of course,” San says, tone not shifting in the slightest. He nods at Seonghwa before stepping away from you. His hand lingers on your arm a breath too long, and when you meet his gaze, the eyes looking back at you are filled with… something. You can’t read it or understand it, but you don’t have much of an opportunity to do so anyway. Instead, you let San move back and head in the opposite direction, turning to face Seonghwa once San’s back is to you.

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mists of celeste ➻ 23.5

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 3k  ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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act three ➻ part 5.5

​​​

If Seonghwa had the choice, he would opt not to go to Hongjoong’s quarters and confront him, but after the rage he exhibited on the bridge, Seonghwa knows that he can’t leave the man alone right now. It’s been quite some time since Seonghwa saw him that angry, so much rage in his body that he even pushed it onto Seonghwa once the crew left the room. It was merely a quick push and a hissed order that told him to leave Hongjoong alone until further notice. Still, Hongjoong has never been angry enough to hit him, let alone shove him.

And Seonghwa understands – he truly does. He knows how important this lead was to Hongjoong; he knows that the captain held the highest hope for this one over any other that they’ve had in the past two years. To have it fall apart and crumble before their eyes? Seonghwa would be lying if he said that he wasn’t upset as well.

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@dsudis​ : When the Reckoning Arrives, and Jole’s perspective throughout that series. It has stuck with me, and I return to it often. I love Bujold’s work and think there’s such rich stuff to explore there (relationships, social dynamics, philosophy), but there’s not much fic out there in her ‘verses, so finding that series was like water in the desert. Apart from that, it’s a quietly devastating, intimate, empathetic, and intricately imagined portrayal of the ways one character’s mind was shaped by living in an environment whose militarism and homophobia is both like and unlike ours. So I admire it as a feat of social analysis, of literary commentary, and of enjoyable writing.

Reblog if you're a fanfic writer and you wanna know what your followers' favorite story of yours is ❤

So this series is one of my guilty pleasures... I don't normally read slow burns because I am impatient and a chronic binge reader but I promise that is one is worth waiting for updates on. Yoongi and Y/N are so interesting together and their relationship is a little complicated because they like each other but that contract is going to make it weird, I can tell. I can hardly wait to see where the plot goes.

The Arrangement Ch. 26 (b)

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: Eat Jin and heading home

AN: We needed the rest of this chapter yall 

Previous Chapter here

You had just refilled your glass when the door opened. ““How much do you think we eat YN!?”  Jin appeared with two bags full of food.

“I mean, I know I eat a lot.” You replied as you grabbed one of the bags from him and sat it down on the counter. 

“Korean classics? A great choice,” Jin commented as he started to remove the contents from the bag. “YN would you mind taking these over to the dining table? I’ll grab chopsticks and plates.”

“Sure,” you complied, taking several trips.

“Yoongi-ah, come on over. Did you fall asleep?” Jin yelled into the living room.

Yoongi got up slowly and headed over, “Nope. Just had to do some work stuff on my phone real quick.”

“Yoongi you always work.” Jin commented as he placed the wine and whiskey bottles onto the table.

Yoongi shrugged, taking a seat. “I love my job.”

“What were you working on?” You asked.

Was he blushing? “Lyrics.” Yoongi cleared his throat. “Pass the noodles, please.”

Jin handed the container to Yoongi. “Oh yeah, you have a Comeback in a few months. I’ve had a few things come across my desk about it. Your last photo shoot looked good.” Jin paused for a moment while he chewed. “It’s going up in the Subway in a few weeks.

“Yeah well we have one tomorrow in the freezing snow,” You said angrily.

“Oh really? I’m surprised Namjoon didn’t push it back.” Jin raised his eyebrows.

Yoongi didn’t comment. He knew that Jin and Namjoon had been friends for years. This budding friendship with Jin was probably just because Namjoon was busy with the auction. Yeah. Why would Jin want to hang out with you? It’s just because his real friend is busy and his girlfriend dumped him. Yoongi blinked; the intrusive thoughts doing their damage.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should tell your friend Namjoon that it’s shitty to make people work out in the freezing weather. Not just Yoongi and me, but the photographers, stylists, lighting crew, catering. Ugh. It’s a mess. And it’s supposed to snow so we had to rent extra equipment to keep the electronics dry. I’m so over it.” You lamented.

“Did you tell him that?” Jin asked

“I did and he told me. Wait…let me…” you took out your phone. “Ahem, “Your concerns are noted. However, BH is a professional company who has been doing this for years. May I suggest, since you have been here for a month, you take this as an opportunity to learn about how real photo shoots work and what real hard work looks like. Life won’t cater to you and neither will this business. Your request to move the date has been (obviously) declined. In the future, don’t bother asking. If BPD decides to cancel something, you will be informed.” You put your phone down. “Such a dick.” 

Jin chewed his food some more and then swallowed. “Damn. I’ve heard he could be a prick to people, but damn.”

“Yeah. Anyways. Send warm thoughts our way tomorrow.” You sighed. You looked over at Yoongi who had grown very quiet and looked borderline miserable. “Hey. It will be OK, I ordered lots of heaters and gloves. If I have to, I will build you a fire myself to keep you warm.” You teased.

Yoongi shook his head, “Yeah. It will be fine.” 

The three of you continued to eat in relative silence. Occasionally you would comment about how the food tasted or about a memory you had eating something similar. Yoongi remained quiet the rest of the meal; a stark contrast to how he had been earlier in the day.

“Thanks again for ordering the food, Y/N.” Jin stretched after wiping his mouth. “Are you two going to stick around? We could watch a movie or play a game?”

You looked over at Yoongi who was still acting differently. “No, I think we’ll head out. Tomorrow is going to be a long day and I still have to do a little bit of work.”

Yoongi nodded, glad you had answered that way. 

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Journey's End by xambedo

Summary:

A journey to reunite old friends. A friendship turned to romance. Finding Aquarius means nothing if it means losing Natsu along the way. Lucy always knew tampering with E.N.D.’s book would have consequences, she just didn’t know how soon. And now the truth could cost her everything. Haunted by Zeref, it’s only a matter of time before Natsu fully awakens, and the bond they so cherish is put to the test

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

Thoughts:

Thank you so much for this wonderful piece if fan fiction!! I haven't read anything in a while because I got so caught up in different things in life. This sparked my love for reading and writing again. Thank you! ❤

Multiple Characters x Reader...

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Works by @miniwheat77

Sizes. 141+Alejandro x Reader: Who has the biggest dick?

By Nature, She’s Naughty: Y/n was a wild one

Works by @mistydeyes

Hunk-o-mania Pt.1: The boys thought wrong, now they’re performing

Playboy Bunny Pheonix Edition Pt.2: The boys are very pleased with the solution

Opposite Occupations Pt.1: They realize that all the long hours are worth it

Take A Walk In My Shoes Pt.2: A day in your life

Almost Military Wives GC Pt.3: What goes on when the boys are deployed

Works by @sprout-fics

Afterburn: Just 6 dudes taking care of their girl

Poly 141 x Reader: It takes weeks, month for you all to put the place in order, and by the end of it all, you’re exhausted

Works by @loveindefinitely

Need To Listen To Me: that was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room

Lust for Life: You’re suddenly all too desperate to get back at your father and experiment a thing or two

Works by @the-californicationist

They Help You Practice: You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 

The Window, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7:

Works by @charliemwrites

From SpecGru With Love

Men at Work

Works by @tojisun

Nosy Neighbours

Sugar, Spice, Everything on Ice

Keeping Him Quiet

141 + König First Word Reactions by @starstruckmiraclekitty: Reactions to their babies’ first words

Be Gentle Man Pt.1 and Be Gentle Man Pt.2 by @rileyslibrary: Etiquette training

Breeding Team by @sirenmoth: AU where reader is an omega who took suppressants

Strip Poker Pt.1 by @catsnkooks: Soap’s CO brought out some cards

Cachorrita Pt.1 and Cachorrita Pt.2 Los Vaqueros x Reader by @lxstfathier: Caught in the middle of narco violence, you are taken in

Four Big Guys by @antigonusyuki: And oh, all the blood rushes to John’s cock

Civillian Asset by @cuckoo-on-a-string: There’s blood under your nails and a threat to your life

Price’s wife = the wife of 141 by @ghosts-cyphera: and you managed. of course you managed. you were price’s good little wife

Sparrow by @diejager: Their tense shoulders slouched, finally knowing where you went

Mafia!141 by @groguspicklejar:

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star by @vellichor-of-the-solivagant: Now, he made music out of you

Home is Where You Are by @1-ker0sene-1: "Taking good care of our boys John…You always do…Making sure you all come home to me again”

Cook!reader x 141 and The Assistant by @bookbrokelibrarian:

Lift Me Off My Feet by @lovifie:

Cherry Bomb by @swordsandholly

FFS Riley Collection by @dozeydaisy

Dad!141 x Mama!Reader by @baduzzxy

Mafia!141 AU, Ext. by @ghouljams

Suite 141 by @mangowafflesss

Contractors!141 by @kyletogaz

Down the Hatch by @syoddeye

Frozen Hearts Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, Pt.6, Pt.7 by @lushrve

Can’t Stop Thinking About Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Pt.8, Pt.9, Pt.10 by @a-b-riddle

Free Use by @bzurk

Really Good Neighbours by @dragonnarrative-writes

Whole Other Notebook by @auspicioustidings

Retired!141 x Rancher!Reader by @purple-moonbeam

Lifeline by @indigosunsetao3

Ranking by @gardenthatneversleeps

You’re Only Sixteen by @siddyyyyyyyy

On The Run by @devil-in-hiding

Hair Series by @kyletogaz

Secret Baby by @gloomwitchwrites

The Office AU by @flowerfreya

Loop by @eevee-of-eternity

Restaurant Au! 141 by @disgustingtwitches

Blue-Collar!141 x Reader by @xo-codbby

Naps to Lovers by @i-love-you-just-the-same

Y/N Being Feral for Her Future Husband by @feralgoblinqueen

Mafia!141 by @cordeliawhohung

Dividers by @cafekitsune