#reaching new heights fic

[regulatedstrawberry]

Hi everyone! I was on a writing kick the past few days, so I got the next chapter out a little earlier than expected. Hope you enjoy!

Reaching New Heights: A Tails Adventure Chapter 11

After the mainline events of Frontiers, Tails, Amy and Sonic go their separate ways to grow stronger, travel the world, and reflect on their experiences. But when Tails stumbles upon a mysterious relic, and natural disasters disrupt the world and its future, the three heroes attempt to take matters into their own hands. As they search for answers in a race against time, they continue to uncover the threads of the Ancients’ forgotten history, the fantastical power of the Emeralds, and the very being that seeks to destroy them.  Rating: T Chapters: 12/? Words: 54.1k

Click here to start from the Prologue!

As always, thank you to my partner in crime, @franticmelody for being an awesome beta reader. Please check out her work!

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #amy rose #sonic frontiers #sth #sonic fanfic #strawberry talks #reaching new heights fic #and if you're reading the tags this far #i just wanted to say #thank you so much to all my readers #i am so so thankful that you all have shown my fic so much love #and of course #happy april fools

[starship-buccaneer]

Steve: Well yeah, Eddie flirts with me constantly and touches me all the time and I do it back and everything, but we're just two guys horsin' around, y'know?

Everyone: No Steve. We do not know.

Steve: Yeah, Eddie's fruity with me, so what? Just because I'm a guy and he likes guys doesn't automatically mean he's into me. He's just comfortable being himself with me!

Everyone: Steve. He's sitting in your lap, playing with your hair. He calls you pretty boy, Steve. He's wearing your sweater, Steve. Steve, please.

#steddie #this is essentially the plot of the fic im writing #steve has-never-had-a-healthy-male- friendship harrington assumes that his friendship with eddie is what good normal male frienship is #everyone else watches on in abject misery as steves obliviousness reaches unbelievable new heights #steve briefly wonders where his interest in pursuing a romantic relationship has gone #then immediately comes to the wrong conclusion that he's simply transcended romance through the power of friendship #meanwhile eddie is tragically pining after a man who could not act more like his boyfriend but is tragically stupid #robin has become the conspiracy board meme from its always sunny #her board has IS STEVE BISEXUAL in big bold serial killer cutout letters on it. theres red string connecting pictures of him and eddie #and also him and bruce springsteen #its all very scientific #dustin and max add to it sometimes #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things

[amethystina]

Girl you're calling that a sex scene? That was the ART OF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. You are the best at what you do and I'm sorry I know I'm shameless but your fic got me thinking, understanding the boys as good as you do, how do you think Yo Han would react if he got some indications or evidence that Ga On is cheating on him? Not that I'll ever believe Ga On to be capable of it, but I'm just wondering if some signs pointed that way, what do you think Yo Han would do or think?

I have to say, this ask nearly gave me a heart attack x'D Because the notification only said: "Girl you're calling that a sex scene? That was" before it cut off, so I definitely had time to start panicking, wondering just how terrible that sex scene must have been. A part of me didn't even want to open the ask x'D

It was fine once I did, obviously, but man, I was scared there for a second.

ANYWAY. I think Yo Han's reaction depends on how long they've been together. And also what kind of hints and evidence he's seeing, of course, but his actions depend mostly on how long they've been together and how secure he feels in their relationship.

Like, I think that after a couple of years, once they've gotten settled, gotten better at communicating, and Yo Han has learned that no, he won't actually end up devouring Ga On because Ga On has enough darkness of his own to withstand whatever Yo Han can throw at him, he'll calm down significantly. He'll realise that Ga On doesn't want someone else and, even if Ga On did, he's bold enough to just flat-out say that. He wouldn't go behind Yo Han's back and cheat — he'd tell Yo Han to his face that he's found someone else and wants to separate.

Not that Ga On ever would, but he's too honest and righteous to sneak around and lie, basically.

So, like, after a certain point, even if they ended up in the cliché, dramatic scenario where Ga On comes home with lipstick on his shirt collar, Yo Han's first thought wouldn't be: "Are you cheating on me?" but rather: "Did someone try to assault you?"

Quickly followed by: "Who is she?" and "Where does she live?"

Yo Han, NO.

And when Ga On explains that he was just trying to help a drunk woman get a taxi home and she collapsed against him as they were waiting and must have smudged lipstick on his collar as she did so, Yo Han would just go: "Yeah, that checks out. That's definitely something Ga On would do — and much more reasonable than him cheating on me."

(Partly also because Yo Han kind of expects that if Ga On truly was cheating on him, despite all odds, he would be much better at hiding the evidence. He trained his sugar baby better than that, okay?)

But if it's earlier in their relationship? When Yo Han still thinks that he's going to suffocate or scare Ga On away? And Ga On hasn't learned to open up yet? So he won't tell Yo Han what he's feeling and thinking? Then things might develop differently — and can turn quite ugly, unfortunately.

Like, it can start with something as simple as Ga On being tired. Perhaps work is being difficult — forcing him to stay late a lot — and maybe it's getting close to the anniversary of Soo Hyun's death and Ga On is closing himself off more than usual. But Ga On doesn't want to bother Yo Han with something as silly as him being tired, or reawaken the jealousy Yo Han feels towards Soo Hyun, so he just doesn't say anything. And tells white lies when Yo Han asks if something is wrong. But Yo Han would notice that Ga On starts brushing him off, is home less often, and probably isn't as physically affectionate as he usually would be.

And once the thought that Ga On might be cheating on him appears, it'd be difficult for Yo Han to let it go. He'd probably push it aside at first, with the very reasonable explanation that, no, Ga On is too honest and good for something like that. But it would resurface the next time Ga On brushes him off, and get even worse when Ga On seems tense and a little awkward when he hugs Yo Han — as if he's feeling uncomfortable.

Or guilty.

And Ga On is feeling guilty, because he's missing Soo Hyun and he knows that Yo Han wouldn't like that if he knew. And so Ga On clams up even more, refusing to talk about it. But Yo Han would assume it's because of something else — something even worse.

And, sadly, once the suspicion gains hold, I think Ga On would be guilty until proven innocent in Yo Han's mind. Because Yo Han is never wrong, right? So, clearly, it's just a matter of finding the evidence. And so he'd try to find said proof by invading Ga On's privacy, having him followed and investigated — all that unacceptable shit Yo Han does. Because now Yo Han has something to prove and he'd lose sight of the fact that, in doing so, he might just be causing an even bigger problem that will, sooner or later, blow up in his face. He'd lose himself to the hunt.

Because it's not like there will ever come a time when he goes: "Okay, I've had Ga On followed for three weeks now and he hasn't done anything, that probably means he's not cheating on me." It'd be: "He just hasn't slipped up yet."

On pure habit, he'd start treating Ga On like a target — like someone he has to expose.

And since Yo Han can't exactly talk to Ga On about this — who is now one of the few people who'd try to hold Yo Han back when he crosses the line (R.I.P. K, we miss you) — there's literally nothing stopping him. And so it just becomes a question of what happens first: Ga On figuring out that Yo Han is having him followed for some reason, Ga On catching Yo Han invading his privacy, or Ga On getting unsettled enough by Yo Han's behaviour to ask what the hell is going on.

Because Yo Han wouldn't be able to just keep behaving normally. He's a good actor, yes, but Ga On knows the difference between Yo Han's genuine affection and when he's trying to fake it. And Yo Han has to start faking it after a while, once his doubts grow strong enough. Because it's difficult to keep giving it your all when you think your partner is cheating on you.

And Ga On would be able to tell when Yo Han starts acting weird. But there's also a danger that he might assume that it's because Yo Han has figured out what's going on with Ga On. As in, Ga On thinks that the displeasure he's picking up on is lingering jealousy over Soo Hyun, not this new threat that Yo Han has conjured up in his mind. Because the day Soo Hyun died is a date both of them know, and all that. So, maybe, Ga On wouldn't actually say anything at first, afraid that would just make Yo Han more agitated.

Meanwhile, Yo Han would be so goddamn confused because he really didn't think Ga On was this good of an actor. Because despite a bit of awkwardness, Ga On is still mostly himself, not showing nearly as much guilt as Yo Han had expected. Yo Han is surprised that Ga On can act that well.

(It's because he's not acting, you pickled cucumber)

So, most likely, I'd say that it all comes to a head when Yo Han gets caught snooping. Either because Ga On figures out that, yes, he truly is being followed, or catches Yo Han looking through his phone or something. And the resulting argument would, uh, not be pretty.

Because even if some part of Ga On could probably see that Yo Han's actions are mostly founded in insecurities — Yo Han thinking he doesn't deserve Ga On, being sure he'll scare him away eventually, thinking Ga On can easily find someone better, etc. — it's also incredibly painful to hear that Yo Han thought he'd do something like that. Like, I think Ga On could forgive the invasion of privacy and light stalking relatively easily, but the fact that Yo Han genuinely thought he'd cheat on him? That his trust in Ga On and Ga On's devotion to him is apparently that weak?

That hurts.

And, sure, Yo Han's doubts are understandable to some degree but, as per usual, it's the way he chooses to act on them that's the biggest problem. Instead of having Ga On followed like a criminal, he should have just asked to have an adult conversation about it.

Not at all helped by the fact that Yo Han would, of course, get defensive when Ga On points this out, and insist that he had very good reasons because Ga On was behaving so weirdly. Which of course means that Ga On has to explain why that is, and then Yo Han does end up feeling jealous over the whole Soo Hyun thing again, but also kind of terrible because Ga On has been suffering for weeks and he didn't notice. Like, jealousy and all that aside, Yo Han still loves Ga On with every fibre of his being and wants to protect him from everything that can hurt him — including the lingering grief after Soo Hyun's death. Ga On shouldn't suffer, period.

And it's not until after he's had that thought that Yo Han suddenly realises just how badly he's fucked up. Because Ga On would definitely be crying by then, in between the angry yelling. Like, Yo Han only has to look at him and see how devastated Ga On is, and then he'd realise that's all on him. It's Yo Han's fault.

He did that.

And, in that moment, Yo Han would also realise that he isn't immune to the concept of self-fulfilling prophecies. Since, in all the time he and Ga On has been together, this is definitely the closest he's actually come to scaring Ga On away. Because Ga On would, at the very least, move out of their shared bedroom for a while after that. If he still has his apartment, he might even go so far as to return there, too hurt and humiliated to stay at the house.

(Let's hope Elijah is somewhere else — exploring the world or something — because, otherwise, she would smack the everloving shit out of Yo Han)

And so they would both be miserable for a while and, not so surprisingly, Yo Han would feel terrible. Like, that man would spiral, probably faster than he ever has in his entire life. Because, understandable trauma and insecurities aside, this is his fault. The situation got out of hand because of his choices. And Yo Han can't say for sure if Ga On will be able to forgive him.

Meanwhile, Ga On has the dubious benefit of being the wronged party. Which, in theory, means you'll be hurt and angry, but don't have to take the blame onto yourself quite as much. Or at least it would — unless you're Kim Ga On. Whose abandonment issues run so deep he's rivalling the Mariana Trench. He'd of course begin to wonder if, just maybe, it's his fault. Maybe this happened because of something he did. He must have done something to make Yo Han doubt him that much.

And, tragically, that's probably what will eventually make him reach out to Yo Han again. Because Yo Han certainly won't try to approach Ga On but, for once, it'd be more out of guilt than pride.

And he'd be wary — then horrified — when Ga On comes to him and instead of being angry, Ga On is just sad and subdued and asks what he did wrong. What did he do to lose Yo Han's trust? Should he have been kinder? Less abrasive? Less angry? What can he do to earn it back?

Had he made Yo Han feel unloved? Neglected? Unappreciated?

Or was the love Ga On had to give simply not enough?

Should he give Yo Han more? Try harder? Be less of a burden?

And Yo Han would shatter.

Because there is not a single part of Yo Han that sees Ga On as a burden. And of course Ga On's love is enough. It's literally impossible for Ga On to give more than he already is.

It would break Yo Han's heart, especially since he can tell how desperate Ga On is. That if Yo Han told him that, yes, he has to try harder, Ga On would. Ga On would do whatever it took to try and fix this problem he now thinks he's the cause of. And, what's worse, Yo Han knows he could use that to push the blame away from himself. If Yo Han wants to spare his own pride and come out the victor, all he has to do is let Ga On believe it's his fault. And it would be so easy, since Ga On is already halfway there, all on his own. Ga On wouldn't even argue.

Suddenly, Yo Han has to make a choice between his own pride — his own kneejerk reaction to never admit to a fault, never appear weak, and never surrender — and Ga On's well-being.

And the only thing Yo Han has to guide him is his own sense of morals.

Which, as we all know, are not only questionable but, a lot of the time, entirely optional.

He'll obviously pick Ga On's well-being in the end — he loves him too much not to — but Yo Han hates himself for even considering the other option. Never mind that it's based on childhood trauma and years of abuse, Yo Han hates that his first instinct is to save himself, at Ga On's expense. That realisation, more so than admitting he's done wrong, makes him feel weak.

(... many of these answers are just (unintentionally) turning into various ways to make Yo Han break for some reason?)

And, to be entirely honest with you, I can't say exactly what Yo Han's reaction and actions would be without writing it in detail and following his thoughts more closely. Mainly because there are a couple of options and which one it ends up being will depend on literally the smallest shift in his and Ga On's expressions and mannerisms.

But what I can say is that it would be a struggle for him, both to find his words and keep his emotions in check.

And he would cry.

In that way we've seen him do in the drama, where his emotions overwhelm him to the point where not even he can stop them from spilling over. So not violently or anything — he'd try to talk through it, pretending it's not happening — but he would cry. Because he'd feel so wretched over how far he's accidentally pushed Ga On. Like, forcing Ga On to the point where he'd go: "Should I be less angry? Should I give you more? Will you love me then?" is exactly what Yo Han has always criticised Soo Hyun and Professor Min for. And now he's done it himself.

But, thankfully, that also means he's going to be pretty damn motivated to fix this. Sure, some part of him might feel that, maybe, he should just let Ga On go if this is what happens when Yo Han is left to his own devices, but he's a little too selfish for that. And, deep down, he knows that Ga On wouldn't actually want Yo Han to let go.

So they would Talk.

And it would be awkward and kind of stilted for them both, but, in the long run, they both love each other too much not to. And sure, the pain and doubts wouldn't magically go away, but they'll keep working on it. And, if nothing else, the whole disaster will teach them just how important it is to communicate — even if the issue might seem small at first glance.

Like, yes, Yo Han shouldn't have jumped to conclusions and gone to the lengths that he did, but if Ga On had been a bit more open, maybe Yo Han wouldn't have. That's not to say it was Ga On's fault — Yo Han was the one to blame — but it could have been avoided if Ga On hadn't tried to keep his suffering to himself.

Communication is key, and all that.

SO YEAH.

Something like that.

There is also a middle option that would probably happen when they are, unsurprisingly, somewhere in between these two scenarios. As in, they've been together for a while so Yo Han feels a bit more secure (and his Abyss tendencies have softened a bit), but not secure enough to just brush it off. Then I think he would be tempted to have Ga On followed and that whole shebang but, after some thinking, he'd realise how much Ga On would hate that. And, eventually, he decides to just ask Ga On instead.

And Ga On will look at him and go: "I'm sorry, what? And give you a reason to start planning another unhinged, ten-year-long revenge plot?"

Which, Yo Han can admit — fair point.

And then they'd actually talk it through, too, and Yo Han can (grumpily) explain why he's feeling insecure and Ga On can (patiently) explain why he doesn't have to. And smother Yo Han with little kissies until he stops being such an idiot.

... at this point, I'm basically writing fics in these answers, aren't I? x'D

AH WELL. Thank you so much for your kind words (even if they gave me a scare) and thank you for the interesting question! Clearly, I had a lot to say on this subject.

Take care! 💜

#Amethystina Replies #Anonymous #The Devil Judge #Long post #My replies are truly reaching new heights #Or lengths #As it were #I think it's partly because I've allowed myself to look beyond Who Holds the Devil #I was holding back before #But if I give my brain free rein it'll take whatever it finds interesting and RUN #Maybe this could actually become a fic if I had the time #But that's a big if x'D #But I admit I'm tempted #Because I genuinely don't know exactly what Yo Han would do #I'd have to be there to figure that out #Which is interesting #That rarely happens #Curse this man

[cloud-somersault]

Hey, just wanna say a few things since people clearly don't know this. If you create a bookmark on ao3 that's NOT private and leave tags, the author can read those tags.

so maybe don't leave tags being rude about the work on there (why are you bookmarking fics you don't like????)

I just got a bookmark with rude tags on it and guys, i literally can't stand shit like this. I have to deal with this type of entitlement and rudeness on my other account, too, and while I expect it more here, I thought people would act with discernment and reading comprehension, but let me just reiterate some things.

You do not have to read any fic you don't want to. Don't like the direction something is going? click that back button.

leaving tags about the stuff you don't like isn't going to change anything. it will get you blocked/muted, though.

you always have the option to write your own fic, and then it'll be exactly what you want! neat, huh?

on the notes of EVERY chapter of this fucking fic, I said this is an alternate universe where SWK did a murder. I said that. Hey, if you don't like that or agree with it? Again, click that back button!!

THE FIC ISN'T FINISHED YET!!!!!!

You just read 78K words for FREE!! And you're going to gripe and complain about that content you VOLUNTARILY consumed??

Look, I hate to make a big deal about this, but this type of behavior makes me not want to share my writing. Because I don't HAVE to, I don't have to share it with anyone. I'm making that choice, so maybe show some respect and decency.

I work too damn hard and put too many hours and shit into this fic, I don't have time for this kinda bs. I appreciate all the comments and questions and theories and engagement, I really do, but this kinda stuff just really angers me.

#constellations fic #the gall of people insulting my writing and leaving that on the bookmarks for me to just. read. #gotta say; this is a new low in my writing career. way to go 2023 we are reaching new HEIGHTS!!! #im just not gonna check bookmarks anymore #usually friends or people i know leave nice words #but this is ridiculous

[inhumanfuckingdogman]

If i had to pick (and lbr you do) between either roman or tomgreg being canonically gay and explored in the series id pick roman 100%. Tomgreg going canon would set gay rights back by like 40 years

#like its still a big tv show they can only have one gay person on it #succ #i think tomgreg will always be reaching new insane heights of whatever the fucknis wrong with them #but roman. roman. #the gerri thing was completely a mommy issues deal #roman ‘for reasons of … we dont know why i cant pee next to other men’ roy #i enjoy watching his torment and quite frankly i cant think of anything that would turn him inside out with misery #quite like the slow tortuous realization that everything his father is disgusted by in him #are the things that make him feel happy and at peace and loved #i hope his interactions with mattson are confusing and scary and addicting and he keeps going back #mencken works too but im sorry that more boring.2 me. ohhh hes into it bc facism bad but he likes when thing bad we get it. #thats the same thing hes been doing tho #now imagine: rome but hes in a relationship with someone whos a little fascinated by him #this dettached deadeyed weirdo who doesnt roll his eyes when he speaks #and instead seems to listen to every word and remember what he says #and who maybe. just maybe. even cares about him #like mattson would definitely treat him like a bug under glass but roman ‘dog cage and chocolatte cake’ roy #would easily mistake that for love #idk not articulating it well. might write a fic abt it. we’ll see #tomgreg canon truthers btw no hate i lov the ship sorry if this shows up in the tag #but theyre definitely going to be in weird limbo forever & ever #i think at best tomgreg will become canon? (audible question mark) #i think they could fuck nasty and weird on screen and tom would start gaslighting greg into thinking it didnt happen #because nothing like. nice or good happens in the show its about misery #i want tomgreg to stay on ao3 so i can read abt tom healing after leaving waystar #anyways! #chatter

[dreamcatchers-husband]

A Business Proposal

Male Reader X Fromis_9 Nakyung

Length: 12.6k+ Words

Tags: Angry sex. Teasing. Creampie

A/n- So the winner of the poll was was post it now. So here you go. Been a while since a new fic but this is in honor of my two years of writing smut on tumblr. Hope you enjoy.

Business proposals. It probably isn't a lie when you say they probably happen every day. Sometimes they can be rather fair for both sides but in your case, you couldn’t be more annoyed. 

“What do you mean I have to marry her? And in a month and a half also?”

Your parents rolled their eyes as they then placed a contract in front of you. 

“Look. Their company has always been a great partner of ours and this could help elevate both of us to the top. This union will combine both our profits and make our wealth reach new heights. The day you marry her, you will officially become the chairman of C Industries. If you don’t marry her then we will look for another board member to take the place. Please don’t make us do that.” 

Your mother and father were hard workers. It took them 27 years but they managed to develop a company that was second to none. Now what was this company focused on? Honestly? Everything. C industries were just a jack of all trades. Tech development, construction of apartments, agriculture. Those were just a few things. It always amazed you how they managed to build their empire and you knew it was yours eventually until now. 

You were destroyed hearing those words. Years of hard work would be ruined over one decision your parents made without warning.

“Shit. Are you going to make me do this?” 

“Yes, Yejun. Now it’s it a yes or a no?” 

Sadly there was only one answer. 

5 frantic weeks went by as both companies got together and worked out the merger. Most of your days went by with you attending meetings from 7 in the morning until 8 at night. You met with lawyers from both sides as well as your parents and future in-laws but one certain lady was always missing. 

Despite this marriage being forced on you. You were going to be a good husband and love and support your wife. So of course you were wondering about her after all this time. Currently, your meeting was ending with the Lee’s so you knew it would be the best time to ask. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Lee. If I may ask, where has Nagyung been this entire time? Me and her will be running this company together yet she hasn’t even shown up for a single meeting.”

“Ah. She has been very busy deciding things for your wedding with the planner. We haven’t seen much of her either. We just get updates over some phone calls. You must be excited to meet your future wife. Why don’t you go give her a visit? She has her place in the city and I’m sure it would give the Two of you some time to connect. I will send you the address as well as the passcodes to enter.” 

“Are you sure it’s ok for me to enter?” 

“Of course, Yejun. You will be married in a few weeks. If she gives you any problems just tell us.” 

“Very well Mr Lee. I will head over tonight when I get a chance.”

“Very well. I wish you a good night and hope to see you soon again.” 

With a handshake, everyone in the room parted their own ways. Your parents didn’t even stay as they gave you a wave goodbye. Looking to the right, your eyes looked up at the clock and saw that it was 5 pm. Today was one of the lucky days you all ended it early. With the idea of visiting Nagyung fresh in your mind, you quickly gathered your things and went towards the elevator. 

After a few seconds, the familiar ring echoed out in the hallway. The doors to the machine opened and you entered. The ride down to the garage took a bit as you were on the 45th floor. After about a minute and thirty seconds, the same ding came back and doors opened. 

Respect is what could be felt in the air. As people passed you, they all took the time to stop and give you a bow. Of course, they would show that kind of respect to the future CEO. Despite that, you felt a bit weird and appreciated when they treated you like anyone else. You never wanted the money or power to get to your head. You hope it never does. 

As you finally arrived at the black vehicle, your hands brought out the key fob and unlocked the car. The little chirp from your Toyota brought a smile to your face. You had just bought it a few days ago and loved having a state-of-the-art car for the first time in your life. Once in the driver seat, your foot stepped on the break and you pressed the start button. As the car roared to life, you waited a few seconds until the display screen in the middle of the console was active. Once up, you could see there was a Message from Mr.Lee. In the text was the address so you just clicked on it and your car put it in the GPS. With the instructions not playing in the speakers, you put the car in drive and took off. 

A few minutes passed as you drove away from the company building. Taking a glance at the time, you saw it was 5 pm and a typical dinner time. With the GPS saying you were 5 minutes away, you began to glance around and look for some food. With your eyes scanning all the buildings, they eventually saw a large neon sign that caught your attention. 

Seeing an open spot near the store, you turned your wheel and parked right in front of the building. Turning the engine off, you quickly jumped out and walked to the front door of the restaurant. The name “Very Very Good Chicken” certainly caught your attention. 

As you pulled the glass door open, the strong fragrance of chicken hit your nose. By just a few smells you got, it was going to be good. Going up to the counter, a young man could be seen just standing behind the counter. His attention was facing down, so you could tell he was just on his phone. 

As you finally reached the register, it took the young. Man, a minute to notice you were there. The sudden jolt from the man scared you since you scared him. Both of you began to laugh at this and calmed down after a few seconds. 

“Sorry. Welcome to Very Very Good Chicken. What can I get for you?”

“Hi. Could I get half and half of the Ganjang and Yangnyeom flavors?” 

“Of course. So half and half of the Ganjang and Yangnyeom flavors. Would you like any drinks to take with you as well or just the chicken?” 

“Hmmm. How about a bottle of draft beer?” 

“A bottle of draft beer. So in total, it’s the chicken and the beer. Your total will be 35,000 Won. How would you like to pay?” 

Handing over your card the young man quickly swiped it and then handed it back. 

“Please give us like 15 minutes to get that ready for you sir. Thank you for buying with us.” 

Nodding towards him, your legs brought you over to an empty seat and you waited for the food. The 15 minutes went by in a flash as you saw the young man walking over with the bags of food. Standing up, your right hand extended and you took hold of the plastic. 

“Thank you for buying. Hope to see you again!”

“Thank you!”

Walking out of the building, you immediately arrived at your vehicle and placed the food on the passenger seat. Getting back in the car, you took a look over your left and pulled out of the spot. Your GPS continued to direct you toward the large apartment building. After the Five-minute drive, you pulled into a large parking lot that was across the building. Your Toyota certainly stuck out from the various nice-looking cars that were stationed there. 

Despite that, you parked your car in the first spot you could find. With the engine turned off, your hand took hold of the plastic bag and hopped out of the vehicle. Your footsteps brought you to the front door where a doorman was ready to let you in. Thanking the man, you made your way inside the building and took a look around. The giant glass chandelier in the center of the lobby certainly brought all eyes to it. 

Moving past it, you eventually made it toward some elevators in the backside of the lobby. Pressing the circular button, your leg began to bounce as you waited for the elevator. A few more seconds passed until a ding echoed out in the lobby. With the door in front of you opening, you quickly hopped on the elevator and pressed the button to the 22nd floor. With the doors closing, all you could do was wait until you were on the correct floor.

A little jingle played in the metal cage as you stood there with the food. Honestly, you weren’t quite sure how to say Hi to Nagyung. Well hi was the least of your concerns. What would you talk about with your fiancé?

Your time to brainstorm ran out as the same Sound as before hit your ears. With the doors opening to your desired floor, you began to walk off the elevator and take a look around. On both sides, apartments lined down the hallways. In front of you was a sign. In the black font, you saw that on the right-hand side were all apartments from 2210- 2220. On the left-hand side were apartments 2200-2209. With a glance at your mobile device, you took a glance at the text and saw that Nagyung lived in apartment 2220.

As you moved down the right-hand side, your eyes scanned all of the apartment buildings until you reached the end of the hallway. With the number in front of you, your right hand went up and formed into a fist. Hesitation is what you felt until a sudden boost of confidence brought you to knock on her door. 

Silence was all that could be Heard. A few seconds passed as you were getting ready to knock again. Before your right hand could hit the door, the sound of the lock being undone began to come from the door. As the white door pulled back, your eyes were met with a strange man who happened to be shirtless. 

“Fucking finally. Forty-five minutes for damn fried rice.”

You didn’t even have time to react as the bag of food was snatched from your hand. A wad of cash was then thrown at your face as the man slammed the door. Were you at the wrong Apartment? Taking your phone back out, you decided to send a message to Mr. Lee. Your message only repeated the address back to the man. It didn’t even take ten seconds for the name to respond saying it was correct. 

Now you were beyond confused. Who the hell was that man? Bringing your ear to the door, muffled sounds passed through but you could hear laughter coming from a couple of people. It could be seen as rude but now you needed to know what was going on. With the keypad on the left side of the door, your fingers put in the code that was given to you. 

12418 imputed. You then pushed the door and were met with a house hallway. Stepping in, you gently closed the door behind you and lurked forward. A couple of nice-looking jackets were on the right-hand side. On the left side was a small wooden table with some car keys. The Bentley logo was very easy to see from the back of the key fob. Obviously, she had a very nice car. As you finally arrived at the end of the hallway, your eardrums picked up about three different voices who were joking around. 

“What the fuck? This is chicken, not fried rice. I’m gonna yell at this place!” 

Walking out of the hallway, you were met with The three individuals who happened to all be undressed. Nakyung as well as the man from the door yelled but you also noticed another young woman who just ran to cover her exposed body. 

“YEJUN! WHAT THE FUCK?”

“Your parents said I could come and visit you. They gave me the code to your door.”

“Wait. You know this creep? Isn’t he the delivery boy?”

“Are you really that stupid Sangjun? That’s Choi Yejun. The future CEO of the company once the merger happens.”

“That doesn’t explain why he’s here?” 

“Well, I came to visit my Fiancé. I didn’t expect to find her naked with another man and woman.”

The man’s expression changed from anger to shock when he heard those words. 

“FIANCÉ? YOU TOLD ME THE MERGER WAS JUST THE MERGING OF THE COMPANIES! YOU ARE MARRYING THE NEW CEO?”

The young man quickly threw on his pants and then bowed before you. 

“Sir I am so sorry. She never told me she was going to be married. I can’t lose this job!”

“Leave, and never disrespect a delivery driver like that again.” 

“Thank you, sir!”

As he ran away, you took a glance at Nagyung and the other woman who were now clothed. 

“Saerom unnie. Can you please give me and Yejun some privacy?”

The young woman gave your fiancé a nod and then walked deeper into the apartment. 

As your eyes met with Nagyung’s, you could tell she was beyond annoyed.

“My parents really gave you the code to enter my home?”

“Your father said it was ok since we are going to get married soon. I’m sorry I’m still just confused. Who were those two?”

“I don’t think you deserve to know that info considering you broke into my home.” 

“Look I know I did barge in but your father said I could. Who were they?”

Nagyung rolled her eyes and began to walk away from you. Following behind her, the two of you eventually reached a nice kitchen. The expensive appliances as well as granite countertops let you see the girl lived in such luxury. From a topside cabinet, the young woman pulled out a glass and a bottle of scotch. Pouring the brown substance into the glass, Nagyung took a seat in the nice leather chair and looked at you. 

“Saerom Unnie is one of my assistants. I have a couple of other girls who work for me. Sangjun is just someone in the marketing department of my father's company.”

“That still doesn’t explain why he was naked. Or why your assistant was naked as well.” 

“You can’t be that’s stupid. What do men and women do when they are naked together?”

Sure you weren’t dense but somehow your brain was trying to convince you that they were participating in some other activity. 

“But why? We’re eng-“

“Engaged? That wasn’t my idea. The only reason this is happening is because my father said I had no other option. The company merger was going to happen. This way my family still kept their wealth and power and a say in the company. Did you want this to happen? I can’t say I would blame you for wanting to marry such a beautiful girl like me.” 

“No. I didn’t want this. My parents threaten to take away my birthright. I would not be the CEO of C Industries unless I married you as a favor to your parents. Now I didn’t want this b-“

“I’m going to stop you there. We both didn’t want this so why are you getting mad? I’m going to be very blunt right now. I love sex. I honestly can never have enough of it so I sleep with any man or woman who even gives me a fuck me look. We are going to get married but I’m still gonna be looking for sex. Look Yejun, you look like a sweet guy but you probably can satisfy me at all in bed. I will act like a good wife in public but I am going to live my life how I want. So if you are now well informed then get the fuck out of my house.”

The way Nagyung spoke to you made you angry yet you also felt sad. Your body reacted on its own as you began to walk towards the exit. Everything was a blur as you were finally back in your car. The anger and sadness remained. Angry that your future wife thought you less of a man. Perhaps you were wondering why you were sad. Well, you always thought you would marry a woman that loved you back. Now that dream. No, fantasy is now gone. 

As you pulled out of the driveway, you began to drive home in an almost robotic state. Fifteen minutes passed as you arrived at your apartment building. Pulling Into the garage, you made your way over to your designated spot and parked in it. Stepping out from your black vehicle, your legs brought you to the entrance where you scanned your keycard. With it unlocked, you made your way over to the small dinky elevator that was already there. Hopping in, the doors slowly closed with a bit of squeal behind them. 

With the elevator going up, you didn’t have to wait more than twenty seconds to reach the 3rd floor. Walking out of the elevator, you walked to the right side and made it to the first door there. Taking out your key, the piece of metal then entered the key slot and turned to the left. Pushing your door open, you then made your way in and closed the door behind you. 

Taking your shoes off, you left them near the door and walked to your couch. Unlike Nagyung, your home honestly was not the best. You didn’t see much of a need for an expensive home. It was all about what you made with the space you had. Wasn’t much but you loved this place. As you slowly removed some of your clothes on the couch, your phone began to ring in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw it was Mr.Lee.

“Hello, Mr.Lee. How are you?”

“I’m doing well, Yejun. Did you go see my daughter?”

……..

Silence. What could you even say to him? 

Oh yeah, I went to see her and she told me she’s gonna be getting railed 24/7 by men and women who aren’t married to her. How she’s told me she’s going to constantly cheat on me? Should you say something?

“Yejun? Are you still there?”

“A-Ah yes. We had a little bit of a chat. She was busy with the preparations so it was just a short talk. I’m sure we will talk more.”

“Oh I’m sorry she was busy but I’m glad you got to talk a little bit with her. Why don’t I schedule a dinner for you and her so you get to know each other better.”

“Oh you don’t have to-“

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll set it up for tomorrow night. 7 pm and I will send you the location.”

You didn’t even have time to respond as the phone call ended. How would dinner even go? Guess that was a problem for tomorrow. For now, you should just rest. 

7 pm came faster than you anticipated. Your future father-in-law reserved a dinner at Lotte Tower. Honestly, it was all uneventful as you arrived at your table. The view out into Seoul was just amazing. You had personally never eaten at this place but you were plenty excited now. A young waitress at the time walked over and placed a glass of red wine in front of you. With a nod, you grabbed the glass and took a sip. Looking at your watch you saw it was 7 pm exactly, so your date of sorts would be arriving soon. 

One minute passed, then two, and then three. Soon it was ten minutes. By this time you could already imagine what happened. You were stood up. At least you thought you were until a young woman walked up to you. 

“M-May I take a seat? I’m here on behalf of your fiancé.”

With a nod, the young woman took a seat across from you and grabbed the cup of water. Bringing it up to her red lips, the girl began to drink the glass of water until the glass was empty. Placing it down, her eyes met with yours and she quickly looked down.

“Hello, sir. My name is P-Park Jiwon and I will be your new personal assistant.”

“When did I hire you?”

“A-Actually, your Fiancé assigned me to the position. I was working at The Lee company already as her assistant but reassigned me. She already spoke to your parents and hers and they approved.

You weren’t even married yet and this woman was already making decisions for you. 

“And let me guess. She’s currently not here because she went to meet up with one of her appointments.”

“Y-Yes sir.”

“Of course she is. Well then I guess-“

At that time, the young waitress brought over two plates of food and placed them in front of the two of you. 

“Well, this food shouldn't go to waste. Eat with me. Let’s get to know each other if we are going to be working together.”

Jiwon looked a little hesitant but as you raised your wine glass to her with a smile, she nodded her head and raised her own. 

Two hours passed and your table was full of laughter. This nervous girl was wacky and funny. You could tell that working with her was going to be a fun time. Since your dinner was over, the two of you walked out to your car and you helped her get in. You would end up dropping off at her home and then going back to your own.

A week passed and you found yourself moving things into your new office. As you placed your knick-knacks on the shelves on the right wall, a knock was heard at your door. From behind the door; Jiwon came and smiled at you. 

“Ok, I think that’s everything, Mr. Choi. That last of your things were in the box.” 

“When we are alone you don’t need to call me Mr. Choi. Yejun is fine. And thank you for the help.” 

“Of course Mr.- I mean Yejun. So what’s next?”

As Jiwon walked over, her eyes didn’t notice one of the empty boxes near you. Before you could warn her, the young woman tripped and started falling forward. Extending your arms, you managed to catch Jiwon before she smashed her face into the floor. 

“You ok Jiwon?” 

“Y-Yeah. Thank you.” 

“Well, don’t you two look nice and cozy.”

You took a look in the direction of the voice and were met with a glare from your fiancé. Jiwon quickly stood up and got away from you. Bowing towards her, Nagyung got closer and got face to face with Jiwon. 

“Why don’t you go get me a coffee, Jiwon?”

“Yes, Ms.Lee.” 

Running out of your office, Nagyung came over and glared at you now. 

“Was it you?” 

“What was me?” 

“Did you tell the media we’re getting married?”

“No. I did not.” 

“DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME.”

“Watch your fucking tone with me. Why the hell would I tell the media?”

“Because it played out exactly how you would want it. Everyone now knows I’m engaged and going to be married. No man wants to risk pissing you off so they all cut their ties to me. None of them will fuck me. Sure I still got some girls to mess around with but I need a man to please me.” 

“Nagyung. I did not tell the media. It probably just made its way out. Maybe this will be a way for you to stop this little habit you have.” 

“Oh shut up. You’re probably looking forwards to fucking your assistant. What the hell did I walk into?” 

“She fell. I caught her. Don’t try to assume you know me.” 

“Whatever. Since the news is out, the media will be outside our wedding. When we pass the camera’s we will be the perfect couple. Do what you need to do so that narrative will play out.” 

You hadn't noticed Nagyung had a tight hold on your arm until she let go. Walking towards the door, Jiwon almost bumped into Nagyung as she was returning. Nagyung took the cold cup from Jiwon's hand and left your office. That nervous girl you had met at dinner returned around her. It’s something you hated to see.

“I’m sorry about that Jiwon.”

“It’s ok. She’s been like that for the two months I worked for her.” 

“Well, I will make sure it stops. Don’t you worry about that.” 

Jiwon’s frown turned into a smile when you told her that. In a short time, you already cared for this girl. You would make sure to protect her the best you could. 

The chirping from birds let you know it was the next day. A little look from your crusty eyes saw that it was seven am. You had to be at the shop to get your hair done by eight. Begrudgingly, your legs threw your covers off of you and made their way to your slippers. Standing up, you managed to tumble your way to the shower and hop in once the dirty pajamas were off. 

You knew your time was short so you made your shower quick. That cold water surely helped you to wake up. Since you were in a bit of a hurry, you took your time in the shower to also brush your teeth. Some people might be disgusted but you do what you need to when you're short on time.

Getting out of the shower, you managed to empty your bladder and run back out to your room. From your dresser came a casual pair of underwear, sweatpants and a shirt. Throwing them on, you then made your way to your kitchen and grabbed a few cookies from a container. Shoving them in your mouth, you then got to your shoe stand grabbed the comfiest pair of sneakers, and threw them on. Looking up at your clock on the wall, you saw it was 7:20 already. 

Grabbing the keys to your vehicle, you rushed your way towards it.

The drive was uneventful as you arrived at the shop with 15 minutes to spare. With your parked near the building. You then made your way to the entrance and met with the Receptionist. The young woman smiled at you as she saw you. 

“Well if it isn’t the man of the hour. Welcome, Mr.Choi. Please follow me, I’m sure you're ready to start getting spiffy for your future bride.” 

With a nod, you began to follow the young woman down a pair of nice granite steps. This shop was amazing. As you finally got down the stairs, you saw plenty of workers running around getting different things ready. 

As you passed a small section of the shop, your ears could hear why people were running all over. The voice of your fiancé was telling people instructions on how she wanted to look. The receptionist pushed you forward into an area with other males that were waiting for you. 

“They will be responsible for getting your hair and other stuff ready. Your fiancé already brought your suit in which you will be married. They will make sure it fits you perfectly despite having your measurements beforehand. Have fun.” 

With a nod, you walked over to the men and gave them a bow. 

“Please make me look good today.”

The men all smiled and Instructed you to sit down. 

Hours went by. It wasn’t just your hair that was getting done. By orders of Nagyung, light makeup was being applied to you. Somehow light makeup took nearly 4 hours. Wouldn’t that be heavy makeup? Either way, it was noon by the time your hair and makeup were done. The staff had ordered some small sandwiches for you all to snack on before you went to put on your suit. With your simple ham sandwich gone, you went and looked at your suit.

The black tux seemed to be custom-tailored to your size. You probably had your parents to thank for that. You could have sworn a suit of yours was missing from your wardrobe. Pulling a cover, you proceeded to remove the tuxedo from its hanger and laid it on a table. Removing your clothes, you proceeded to throw on the white dress shirt and buttoned it up. Grabbing the pants from the table, your right leg went into the right slot and the left leg into the left slot. You had plenty of practice with suits and such. Putting them on wasn’t hard at all. 

After two more minutes, your belt was in the buckles and you had your pants and dress shirt on. The white bow tie that remained on the table stood out to you. Most women made their partner wear the same color their 2nd dress would be. This being the color could either mean she wanted you to look bad, or her dress after the wedding would be white as well. Either way, you proceeded to pick up the bow tie and put it on. The final piece of your outfit was the nice black jacket. As you put it on, your eyes looked into the mirror in front of you. Your outfit was complete. Honestly, it was a perfect fit. 

Pulling back on the cover, you proceeded to walk out towards the stylists and they began to pass a lint roller all over your tux. 

“Perfect sir. Your bride is going to be very happy.”

“Yeah, sure she would.”

“Your wedding is being held at 3 pm in the Seoul Cathedral. That’s about a 30-minute drive from here. It’s 1:30 pm so it’s time to head out. Good luck today and don’t forget to say I do.” 

Giving the men a bow, you began to head back out the way the receptionist had brought you. It was nothing eventful until you found a giant limousine waiting for you. The older man waiting by the back door gave you a bow and pulled it open. Giving the older man a bow, you quickly entered the limo and the door closed behind you. After a few seconds, the man went to the driver's side and hopped in. Before you knew it, you were on your way to the cathedral.

Honestly, it surprised you how many times you were using the same word to describe your wedding day. Uneventful. The 30-minute drive was uneventful until you finally arrived at your destination. The flashing cameras began to surround the vehicle as well as yells from the media. Security was already outside and began to push the men and women away as your vehicle inched forward to its final spot. Once there, the large men who helped push the media away helped you step out of the limo. 

Despite being pushed back once, the various news sites came piling back over once again. The yells of your security were all you could hear as they were throwing the men and women back. Step by step you began to go up the steps of the cathedral. You aren’t even sure how much time it took until you were finally at the entrance. Once past the wooden doors, you could finally hear yourself think. 

As you began to move further into the church, various men and women began to walk toward you and say their hellos. Despite it being early, the church was already filled with various people. A large majority of these people were businessmen and women who wanted to get on your family’s good side. Doesn’t surprise you most of them are there to kiss ass. 

The repeated motions of your arm going up and down were annoying. Sure everyone knows how simple a handshake is but once you reached 30 people, it was just bothersome. With the random businessmen out of the way, next was saying hello to the executives of The Lee Company. As you stood in front of the 6 men and women, your head went down and gave them all a deep bow.

“I welcome you all to my wedding. Thank you for taking the time to come to this event. I’m sure all of your schedules were packed.”

The oldest of the bunch came over and shook your hand. 

“Of course, we need to attend to meet our company president. Some were hesitant but this merger will help make us all a lot of money. I speak on behalf of all of my colleagues here. I am Ru Sangki.” 

“Mr.Ru. I thank you all for coming. Will you be joining us for the festivities after?” 

“Who could ever say no to free alcohol?”

With a small laugh, you proceeded to make your way to the end of the church where your parents were waiting. As your mother's eyes met with your own, you could see she was beginning to tear up.

“Sweetie. Y-You look amazing.”

“Thank you, Mother. Please don’t cry. You know I hate that.” 

“I just never thought I would s-see the day.”

“Well, it’s here whether we like it or not.” 

Placing a hand on your shoulder, your father looked at you. 

“L-Listen Yejun. Your mother and I know this wasn’t your favorite thing but we appreciate you doing this. This will help our families rise to new heights. I guess we’re beginning to sound like broken records but this has already had an impact. Our stock prices have risen 7% since the first word of your wedding. New investors are lining up. The two of you will make this into a worldwide empire. I’m sure of it. You’re both young. I’m sure you will learn to love each other.”

You wanted to roll your eyes but as a matter of respect, you just nodded your head to your father. 

“OK then. Your wedding will start in a few minutes. Why don’t you go stand up there and we will get started once your bride arrives.”

“Yes, father.” 

Walking up on the stage, you began to just wait and give everyone a nod as they got to their seats. Minute after minute passed as your foot began to tap on the wooden floor. You were in your own world until the sound of an organ playing spooked you. The stereotypical tune from weddings began to play for everyone’s ears. Everyone was sitting for a minute until the sound of the doors could be heard. 

The crowd now standing, looked back and began to take pictures. Your eyes first noticed the older man with her arm intertwined. Next to him was the young woman who had a white dress. Nagyung’s wedding dress wasn’t like other women’s. Most women had massive gowns that could fall to the floor. The fluff from those dresses was always a lot yet Nagyung didn’t dress like that. 

Your fiancé’s dress was short. Her legs were on full display for the crowd to see. The two straps on her shoulders showed her soft skin. The white down her body showed her beautiful curves that could make any man drool. Around her neck, the collar of her dress seemed to have jewels all around to just show a look of elegance. 

Step by step, the young woman got closer as her father held her arm. Small cries could be heard on the left-hand side. As you looked, your eyes noticed Nagyung’s mother crying at the sight of her daughter. You could tell she was just happy her child was getting married. After a few more seconds, Mr.Lee and Nagyung were finally at the front. 

Walking down the five steps, your arm then extended to take Nagyung. Mr.Lee in that moment caught you by surprise as he hugged you. 

“Look after her please.”

You were a bit shocked by this action but after you composed yourself, Mr.Lee revived a nod yes from you. Taking Nagyung’s arm, the two of you went up the 5 wooden steps and met with a priest who seemed to appear out of thin air. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. I would like to welcome you all here today. It’s not often family, friends and loved ones get the chance to gather all together but you all took the time to come here for a very special moment. The moment when a man and woman become one. This is a sacred event that has stood the test of time. One that plenty would feel blessed to have, and I am sure these two feel just that way. Choi Yejun and Lee Nagyung have brought you here today for this. Their marriage. Now as I stand before these two, I can see the nerves on their faces. What couple wouldn’t be nervous on their special day but this just shows the love the two have for each other.”

You could almost laugh hearing those words but you needed to keep the act up. Nagyung smiled at the priest and nodded her head. 

“Now Yejun, the duty of a husband can be tough. Sometimes you will be a friend, other times a confidant but you will always be the head of the family. You will be responsible for the needs your wife will have. Be that someone to talk to or someone to just enjoy time together. The key to all this will be communication. Communication will be the thing to help your marriage last as long as people like your parents. I hope you can fulfill the needs of your family. Now Nagyung. That same goes for you. The role of a husband can be hard at times but you will be his friend and confidant. The two of you will also have the struggles of running a business but if you communicate, then you can stand everything thrown at you two. Now I know plenty of weddings like to go on for an hour and bore you all with different sorts of speeches but I’m not going to do that to you all. I’ll make it shorter than average. We will now move on to the vows. We will start with Yejun. Repeat after me.”

At least this wasn’t going to be long.

“I, Choi Yejun.”

“I, Choi Yejun.”

“Take you, Lee Nagyung.”

“Take you, Lee Nagyung.”

“To be my wife.”

“To be my wife.”

“To have and to hold from this day forward.”

“To have and to hold from this day forward.”

“For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer.”

“For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer.”

“In sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”

“In sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”

“Now Nagyung. Repeat after me. I, Lee Nagyung.”

“I, Lee Nagyung.”

“Take you, Choi Yejun.”

“To be my Husband.”

“To be my Husband.”

“To have and to hold from this day forward.”

“To have and to hold from this day forward.”

“For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer.”

“For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer.”

“In sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”

“In sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”

“Thank you, both of you. Now I must ask. Should anyone have any reason these 2 should not be wed today, please speak or forever hold your piece.”

Silence in the church.

���Well then. As I said I wouldn’t make this long. By the power vested in me by South Korea and god, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

As you looked at your bride. Your eyes met with hers and saw she was smiling at you. You could tell it was fake but you had to play the part. Putting your hand on your wife’s waist, you then pull her closer and put your left hand on the back of her head. Tilting your head to the left, you then pulled Nagyung’s face toward you and connected your lips. The kiss was simple, just your lips touching but your heart was racing. It had been years since you kissed a girl. You were ready to push your tongue forward until Nagyung pulled her face back. 

Cheers filled the church as the two of you faced the crowd. Smiles were on everyone’s faces. Your parents as well as your in-laws seemed happy. With the feeling of happiness in the air, you couldn’t help but give a genuine smile. At that time, Nagyung pulled your head closer to hers. 

“Carry me to the limo. Make it seem romantic, idiot.”

Now your fake smile is back. Picking the young woman up, you began to walk down the wooden steps and go down the aisle. The cheers continued as you went down and gave everyone a quick nod. Nagyung pulled herself up a little and began to kiss your cheek. Each step you took brought you closer and closer to the doors. Security was ready as you finally reached the end. Your parents and in-laws managed to keep up with you and were ready to go out. 

“Take a few pictures for the media and walk to the limo. We will join you there.”

“Ready, Nagyung?”

“Let’s do this.”

With security pushing the door open, your eyes were immediately blinded by the flashing lights of cameras. Yells from your security as well as the media hit your ears once more. You thought they were crazy before but now that your wife was in your arms, they almost lost it. You were now the power couple of South Korea. Each push on the men that were in front of you wasn’t fruitful. It took a couple of tries for you to make any progress towards the limo. 

More of your guards came and began to pull the cameramen away from you all. Taking a chance, you posed with Nagyung and she smiled for the cameras. After an intense struggle that lasted five minutes, you were finally at the limo door. For one final picture, you looked at Nagyung and attached your lips to hers. The kiss was the same as before, just on the lips. It made your heart skip a beat until your wife pulled away again. 

Putting your wife down, the young woman stepped into the limo and you followed behind. Your parents as well as in-laws also hopped in the limo and then closed the door. Unlike before, security already had them away from the vehicle and you were able to take off. Hugs were passed around as everyone hugged their parents. Your parents then hugged Nagyung and your in-laws hugged you.

“Your dress was stunning. So different from other brides.” 

“Thank you, Mrs.Choi. I-“

“Call me Mom please.” 

“Thank you M-Mom. I had the dress custom-made by some famous stylists at Versace. It was worth every penny.” 

The rest of your ride was filled with Nagyung talking about her dress as well as the different jewelry she had on her person. For not wanting to get married she truly went all out for her dress. Fifteen minutes passed as you reached the venue for the reception. A hotel.  Your wife had reserved several rooms and suites in this massive hotel. As the limo parked at the entrance, security stood guard and helped you get out. Helping Nagyung get out, you extended your arm once more and began to walk in with your family. 

“Now me and your in-laws will finish setting up the reception. You two go over to the conference room and we will come get you when it’s time.” 

“Ok, mom.” 

Walking to an adjoining room, you and Nagyung found a couple of reclining seats and sat in them. The only noises that could be heard were the music as well as the staff workers who were setting up. You Weren’t sure how much time had passed until you heard a small grunt from Nagyung. Looking in her direction, the young woman was standing up and walking towards the door. 

“You ok?”

“I’m gonna go do something. I’ll be back.” 

You didn’t get the chance to respond as your wife pulled the door open and left. You were getting ready to follow behind her until the door opened again. A smile filled your face as you saw it was Jiwon. 

“Congratulations Yejun!”

“Thank you Jiwon. I didn’t know you were in attendance.”

“Well of course I needed to come. I want to support you and be here in case you need something. So where is your bride going?”

“She said she would be back. That’s it.”

Jiwon’s smile turned into a look of sadness when she heard that. 

“I think I know where she went. Follow me.”

Should you?

Jiwon didn’t wait as she grabbed your hand and began to pull you towards the rooms. The first floor seemed to have a few hotel rooms. As you went down this hallway, Jiwon reached one of the many doors there and pulled out a keycard. Scanning it, the green light appeared and she pushed the door open. Walking in, you were met by a sight that angered you. Nagyung had her arms wrapped around another woman and was kissing her neck. Somehow they didn’t even notice you. 

“Nagyung. You’re married now. W-We shouldn’t.”

“It’s ok. I’m sure he won't mind it being another girl, Seoyeon.”

You weren’t sure why you were surprised. She said she was going to keep cheating but with the men avoiding her, you thought the women would too. Your eyes seeing this were suddenly met with the worried young woman. You could see the fear in her eyes as what she worried about happened. 

“M-Mr. Choi.”

Nagyung at that time turned around and saw you. Most people would act shocked when caught cheating. Nagyung just rolled her eyes. 

“Did you bring my husband here?”

Jiwon was silent for a second until she nodded yes. 

“Next time keep to yourself. Or you will be out a Jo-“

“You will not be out of a job Jiwon. I give you my word on that. Nagyung. I truly thought that maybe you would not do it but I’m here and you couldn’t give a shit. Wow.” 

As you began to walk out of the room, you could hear Nagyung scoff and yell at you. You paid her no mind as you and Jiwon returned to your waiting room. Once there, you took a seat again and just closed your eyes. While anger was coming off in waves, you felt a hand touch your arm. It was Jiwon and you could tell she was sorry for you. In a short time, this girl was already proving to be a better friend than any you had before. 

“Sorry. I know this wasn’t your choice but maybe if you have a normal conversation with her then she will listen and stop.” 

You were just silent. It could seem stupid but it only really hurt because Nagyung was keeping stuff from you, lying.  At that time your fiancé returned and took a seat. The two of you were just glaring at each other now. Tension was all that could be felt in the air. Nagyung could have probably jumped on you until a knock on the door caught everyone's attention. It was the party planner. 

“Everything is all set. Let’s go show everyone the lovely couple.”

Your feelings would have to wait, you now had to be the perfect couple. Standing up, you and your wife met at the door and intertwined your arms. Both of you put a fake smile on your faces and walked toward the reception hall door. The doors were quickly pulled open and music began to play. You and Nagyung began to playfully dance to the tune while going into the reception hall. Cheers echoed in the venue as the two of you made your way to the center of the hall. 

You were ready to continue walking toward your seats until a slow song began to play. Normally the first dance would be later on but it looked like it was at that moment. Placing your hand on Nagyung’s thin waist, the two of you began to stumble a bit and go in the opposite direction. To everyone, it was just nerves when in reality you had never practiced this with your wife. 

“Get your shit together and dance. I better not be embarrassed by this.”

Looking to the right a bit, Nagyung began to follow you and you both swayed left and then right in tune. Your dance wasn’t amazing but it served its purpose. A couple of minutes passed as the song stopped and everyone clapped. Directed to your table, the two of you took your seats and looked out into the crowd. It would be a long rest of the day. 

Hours went by. To say it was horrible was an understatement. Every few minutes Nagyung would pull you closer and complain about something you did. Insult after insult continued to go in your ears. How were you going to have a calm conversation with your wife? You were angry. She was angry and annoyed. Would your emotions cause problems in this chat? A sudden pinch on your arm brought you back to your senses. The two of you had been bowing toward everyone who came to the weddings and it had ended. As people packed the dance floor and music blared in people’s ears, your parents and in-laws walked over and placed a few folders in front of the two of you. 

“We know it’s been a long night, and it’s still technically a little early but we couldn’t wait any longer. In front of you are the deeds to your new home. Now C Industries has been developing a new mega building near the heart of Seoul. Well, the penthouse is already done. This home would be worth several million but it’s our wedding gift to the two of you.”

Both you and Nagyung were surprised. The two of you thought it would be time to go home shopping soon but your parents gifted you one. Both you and Nagyung bowed your heads and the massive gift you both received. 

“Finally. In front of you are the transfer of ownership documents for both you and Nagyung. It’s all set. You both just need to sign and Yejun will be the CEO while Nagyung will be the COO.”

Pulling the cover to the manilla folder, the documents were all there and you began to give them a look over. There were no tricks in the end. This was the moment you had been dreaming about your whole life. Picking up a pen, your hand went down to the bottom of the document and began to sign. Once your lengthy signature was done, you took a glance to the left and saw Nagyung was done signing as well. Your wife was smiling and u like her previous ones, this one looked genuine.

“We are proud of the two of you. Welcome the new leaders of C Industries!”

Finally after everything today you were happy now also. 

“We know it’s a bit early but the presidential suit was reserved for the two of you tonight. Here are the keycards so you can enter. Go ahead and leave whenever you want. We love you both.” 

With your parents and in-laws leaving, Nagyung immediately took one of the cards and looked up at the clock. It was 10 pm. 

“Well, I will be heading to the suite. I’m done with all these fake smiles I’ve been giving. Have fun dumbass.”

Standing up, Nagyung made her way to the exit and bowed at everyone as she left. You were left alone at your table now. It felt awkward. Should you just go to your room also? Wait, what if Nagyung was meeting with another person again? 

Your mind began to go in circles as you asked yourself that question repeatedly. Your body reacted on its own as you made your way to the exit. After saying your goodbyes, you quickly made your way towards the elevator and waited for it. After a minute, the metal cage arrived and you walked in. Scanning your keycard, you then pressed the button to the presidential suite and the doors closed. As you went up, your leg began to bounce as you waited to get to your room. 

A loud ding brought you back to earth and the doors opened. Right in front of you was the entrance to the suit. With the card scanner on the handle, you quickly scanned the rectangle in your hand and saw the green light. Walking in, the door was pushed almost all the way but then stopped by a pair of white heels. Pushing your way past the door, you continued your way further until you reached the living room. On the couch sat your wife. The bottle of champagne on the table in front of her was opened and she was enjoying it. 

“Why are you up here?” 

“I have just as much right to be in this room Nagyung.” 

Grabbing a glass, you then poured some of the contents of the bottle into it. You didn’t even hesitate to down the entire glass of champagne. Nagyung scoffed at this action and filled her glass once more. 

“You’re acting like you had a tough day. I had to act like the perfect wife.”

“And you are acting like you aren’t a nightmare to deal with. I tried my best to be kind towards you all day yet all you did was treat me like trash.” 

Nagyung’s scoff returned as she then stood up. 

“I have been treating you well, all things considered.”

Your wife at that time walked towards the bedroom, leaving you shocked at her words. Following behind you raised your voice a bit. 

“That was treating me well? How the fuck is that treating me well?”

“You got to kiss a gorgeous woman like me. I think that’s pretty good for a loser like you. Plus you ruined one of my chances to destress. I could have slapped you for that.” 

“First. You need to stop calling me a loser. I don’t get where you got that idea and secondly, you went to do shit like that on our wedding day. You don’t even care.” 

“I don’t care. I told you I love sex. A wimp like you can’t satisfy me.”

Getting closer to Nagyung, your glare met with hers.

“I have asked you already. Stop calling me a wimp. I’m getting tired of this.”

“Wimp, wimp, wimp.” 

Our anger was ready to boil over. You had this rage you wanted to release but you didn’t know how. You hadn’t noticed how close your face was to Nagyung’s until you could feel her breath on yours. The two of you were angry and needed to get rid of this feeling. 

Your bodies reacted on their own as you both grabbed each other. Your lips were connected to Nagyung’s before you knew what was happening. This wasn’t like the short kisses you had before. You had wanted to push your tongue forward before and now you had the chance. 

As your tongue moved into her mouth, the two of you began to fight against each other. You would have figured Nagyung would push you away but she continued to kiss you. The young woman’s tongue was shorter than yours, yet she managed to put up a good fight. Your tongues were pushing against each other and then circling, chasing each other.  With your pent-up anger, you finally pushed your tongue against hers and took control in her mouth. Oxygen was something the two of you didn’t notice until your lungs felt empty. 

Pulling back, both of your chests heaved as they took in as much air as possible. Still, your face ended up back in her body only now her neck. First, you began with small pecks on her soft skin. A few pecks later you began to nibble on her skin and pull a bit. The combination of your kisses and bites began to leave a red mark on your wife’s neck. Soft moans hit your ear as Nagyung held you close. 

You weren’t sure when but after a little bit, Nagyung was already pulling off your jacket and ripped off your tie. Your hands stopped being idle after those actions and followed her lead. Your wife didn’t have much clothes on, so it was easy to begin to raise her white dress. Pulling back from your bride's neck, she began to help you remove her wedding dress. As the clothes began to leave her body, your eyes were blessed by the sight of her nude breast. Nagyung didn’t have a bra on this entire time. Just that thought made your already stiff cock to twitch. 

Nagyung seemed impatient as the young woman ripped the buttons to your shirt open. With that out of the way, your hands went down to your belt and unhooked it. Pulling the leather belt off your pants, Nagyung quickly unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down. Raising both your legs, your pants were finally gone and you were matching Nagyung. Only your undergarments remained. 

“Not bad for a wimp.”

“Shut up you bitch. Why am I even doing this?”

“Please, I'm asking myself that. You probably have a little shrimp dick.”

Nagyung’s hand reached out and took hold of your clothes shaft. Your wife had a smirk on her face until she began to feel around. 

“Take a look then.” 

Your wife rolled her eyes at the cockiness in your tone and dropped to her knees. As she went down, her hands wrapped around the band of your underwear and pulled it down. As your cock was freed from its confines, it accidentally hit Nagyung in the face as she got closer. A small gasp left her mouth as she stared at your dick. Raising her hand slowly, your wife’s dainty fingers wrapped around your cock. 

“Well well well. I guess my husband is blessed with a nice cock after all.”

Slowly, Nagyung’s hand began to move up and down your length. With each small stroke, a bit of precum left your tips and began to move down your shaft. The clear slick began to slick up your wife’s hand a bit. Her hand was soft and moving slowly, yet it felt great. Nagyung. Could tell these small actions felt amazing as she then sped up a little bit.

“Awe. Your cock is heating up a bit. This is probably the most a girl has ever done to your length.”

“I’m not a virgin Nagyung. I just don’t Sleep around with anything that breathes.”

“Well you should be happy your wife loves sex. Because that means I’m an expert at this.”

Goosebumps filled your body as you felt something warm wrap around your cock. Looking down, your eyes met with Nagyung’s as her mouth trapped your tip. A few small sucks began to attack your cock head. A slight groan left your mouth as Nagyung continued this action. Sure it felt great but it would quickly bore you. 

Nagyung seemed to have read your mind as she smirked a bit. Lower and lower went your wife’s mouth on your length. You weren’t sure how but Nagyung managed to move your entire length down her throat. After five seconds, Nagyung pulled her mouth back and off your length. Your wife then began to move her tongue on your length and moved it from the base to your tip. Left then right went her tongue around your cock. Moving down to your balls, Nagyung began to move her tongue around them and played with them. Your wife’s hand while she sucked on your balls stroked it up and down. 

After a minute, Nagyung returned her mouth to your length and began to suck on your cock head. Down went her head on your length inch by inch until you filled her throat. The same action repeated two more times until Nagyung hit you with something new. When you filled her throat once more, you felt a vibration around your length as well as a constriction. Nagyung was somehow massaging your cock with her throat. It was unlike anything you had felt before. If you truly were a virgin, you would have blasted your load down Nagyung's throat at that moment. 

Pulling back, Nagyung giggled a bit and just looked at you. 

“How does that feel dear? I told you I’m talented. Or maybe you are just a virgin.

“T-That was….. ok.” 

“Well. If it’s just ok then fuck my face. Dump a load down my throat.”

With the same insult being repeated, you decided to take her up on this invitation. Both of your hands took hold of Nagyung’s head and your waist began to move back and forth. At first, it was slow but when your eyes met with Hers, you saw she rolled them at you. With a sudden thrust, Nagyung’s throat was filled and her eyes shot out a bit. Back and forth your cock entered and left her mouth. Your wife’s throat was getting filled every second with your action. Despite this, she would take deep breaths when she could and took it. She truly wasn’t a rookie at this. Once again, Nagyung began to constrict your length with her throat. The feeling every time felt like the first time. The girl certainly wanted you to cum. 

“F-Fuck. Guess you can do more than just complain with that mouth.”

You felt almost embarrassed but you knew you were close. Using as much strength as you could, you pounded into your wife’s throat. You didn’t have time to warn Nagyung as you thrust into her throat a final time, blowing your load. Shot after shot of your cum went down the young woman’s canal. A small pur left Nagyung’s mouth as your semen filled her stomach. It was one of the best orgasms you had in a while. Letting go of your wife, Nagyung pulled back and began to suck on your tip. Your whole body jolted as you were still sensitive.

“Fuck. I haven’t swallowed a load that big in a while. You must have needed to let one out for a while now.”

Your head just nodded a bit as Nagyung stood up and laid her back on the bed. 

“Hurry up and eat my pussy. I better cum from that worthless tongue of yours.

After finally catching your breath, your legs dropped down and you brought yourself up to Nagyung’s legs.

“Sit back and enjoy, bitch.”

Wrapping your arms around Nagyung’s thick thighs, you then pulled your wife closer. Deciding to tease Nagyung, your lips went to her legs, and began to kiss them. Each peck down her leg brought you closer and closer to her panties. Nagyung being impatient wrapped her hand on her panties and pulled them down. With her privates uncovered, your kisses got closer and closer until you hovered about her pussy. Her slick had covered her legs already and you had a taste, but now you wanted more

“Fucking eat my pussy.” 

You would have liked to leave her there frustrated, but you decided to be nice and gave her pussy a kiss. A little moan left her mouth and you gave her lips another kiss. You repeated this action as your hands moved up to her folds. Spreading them open, your tongue took the chance to push in and began to lick around. More moans left Nagyung’s mouth as your tongue began to swirl in her cavern. 

With her folds parted, your eyes managed to see your wife’s clit. With your left hand, you began to run her nub in little circles. Letting go of Nagyung’s folds, you then used your right hand and pushed your index finger into her. The small moans were replaced with swears as your fingers moved in and out of her pussy. All 3 actions made your wife begin to jump around. She wasn’t ready for you to please her. Nagyung was truly caught off guard. 

Adding two more fingers at once, Nagyung’s legs began to shake at the combined efforts of your hands and tongue. In and out your fingers pistoned Nagyung’s tunnel faster and faster. Your tongue with its continuous flicks on her clit began to speed up despite your mouth getting tired. Nagyung was close and you could tell.

Pulling back, you looked up at Nagyung and heard a groan from her. 

“Why the fuck did you stop?”

“Maybe we should just leave you here as payback or-“

Nagyung wasn’t happy and pulled your head back into her snatch. Should you keep going? Nagyung didn’t wait as her fingers began to rub her clit. Your three fingers pushed back into her snatch and your tongue licked her folds. It didn’t take long for Nagyung to get close to her orgasm again. Moving your fingers as fast as possible. 

“F-Fuck. Just a l-little more.”

Keeping the same pace, Nagyung soon began to jolt around and yell. A rush of fluids hit your face and you then opened your mouth. Each squirt of your wife’s fluids filled your mouth quickly. Drinking it, your body shivered as you had the best-tasting drink of your life. Pulling back, Nagyung was panting for air and had a bright smile on her face.

All of this made you hard again. You thought you were turned on before, but now. You wanted to fuck the life out of your wife. You didn’t hesitate to stand back up and line your length with her folds. Nagyung saw this and smirked. 

“Look at you. Taking charge. I wonder if that cock can make me cum.”

“I already made you cum.”

“That was with my help. I doubt you can do it on your own but go ahead and try.”

“Let’s see if that loose pussy can make me cum.” 

Your cock head began to push forward and wrapped around your length. You didn’t hesitate to go as deep as possible in that instant. Every inch of your length was wrapped by Nagyung’s walls, and it was the greatest feeling ever. Pulling back, you began to move back and forth. 

“Mhmmmm. Such a beautiful cock but I’ve had better.” 

Your anger returned as you wrapped your hands on her hips. Harder and harder your cock began to shove itself into your wife.

“Little better but I think I should go find a better cook than you right now.”

Adding a bit of speed, your hips thrusted more and more into Nagyung’s pussy. Achieving a steady speed, you continued to fuck Nagyung. 

Clap clap clap

Those were the sounds that could be heard in the room. Finding a bit more strength, you began to move harder. Grunts left your mouth as Nagyung moaned. 

“T-That’s fucking it. Keep going, wimp” 

Grabbing Nagyung’s hair, you aggressively pulled your wife’s upper body closer to you. 

“S-Stop calling me a wimp.” 

“Y-You want me to stop. Then make sure I cum.”

Lowering your hand, your fingers began to search until you found her clit once more. As your wife did before, your fingers began to move her clit in circles. You could feel your wife begin to constrict her walls on your length from this action. You hadn’t noticed Nagyung had her arms wrapped around your neck until now. Letting go of her upper body, your head moved down and went into her breast. 

With your mouth wide open, you managed to find Nagyung’s right nipple and wrapped it around your lips. At first, you began to give it a few teases but soon you began to suck on it harder. You were never the best multitasker yet you managed to keep fucking Nagyung, playing with her clit and sucking on her breasts. Raising your head, you then moved your mouth to her left breast and began to suck on her nipple. 

“Fuck. I-I’ve needed this.”

“M-Me too.”

You were surprised at that moment as Nagyung pulled your head back. You thought she was going to push you away until she brought her lips to yours. The two of you were in a battle once more. Your tongues fighting for dominance. This kiss was aggressive, yet you could feel almost a sense of care in it. Pulling back from the kiss, Nagyung smiled at you and kissed your cheek. 

“B-Babe. Keep going, please. I���m going to cum if you keep this pace.” 

Your heart fluttered a bit when she called you that. You were going to help her cum. Keeping your thrusting pace, your fingers sped up and stimulated her clit even more. Nagyung at that time began to yell once more and jump around in your arms. Your wife’s eyes began to roll back as she continued to jump around. The construction around your length was just as good as her throat, you were ready to cum. With a few more thrusts, your length reached the end of your wife’s caverns. Your seed began to flood your wife’s snatch as you fell on top of your wife. Your cock throbbed more than five times as you filled her to the brim with your semen. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed as you felt Nagyung kissing your neck. Getting back up, you looked down and saw your cum leaking out of your wife’s pussy. Nagyung brought her fingers down at that moment and grabbed some of the semen that was dripping. 

Raising it to her mouth, your wife playfully spun around and raised her ass towards you. 

“Put another load in me.”

You didn’t need to think twice about that invitation. Despite everything, your cock was still plenty hard. Nagyung at that time reached back and lined your length up with her folds. With a push, your length was enveloped in your wife’s caverns once more. 

“Fuck. How are you so tight?” 

“How do you have such a nice cock?”

Picking up a little speed, your thrusts began to get harder. Nagyung at that time brought her upper body up and you took hold of her arms. From your wife’s delicate arms, they began to go up and take hold of her breast. Your lips once more went to her neck and you began to pepper it with kisses.

“God I love that. Maybe I really won’t need another cock after this.” 

“Here y-you go again. This is the only cock you are going to have from now on.”

“M-Maybe but you get a pleasure other men have never had.” 

“And what’s that you whore.”

Nagyung’s walls got tighter with that word. 

“None of them got to fuck me without a condom. Let alone fill me with cum.” 

“Then let me fuck a-another load into your loose pussy.”

Nagyung moaned when you insulted her again. Your speed began to increase when you could imagine another load in your wife. Letting go of her left breast, you immediately raised it and slapped her ass. A grunt left Nagyung as you then slapped her ass again. 

“Y-You can do better dear. Fuck me like others have before.” 

Your slaps continued on her ass after she said those words. 

“S-Shut up you whore.”

“W-Whore? Yet you’re fucking me.”

“B-Because this is my pussy now.” 

Your thrusts increased and Nagyung began to grunt like you. 

“C-Choke me.” 

You would have never thought of yourself grabbing your partner's neck during sex but with the way Nagyung spoke to you, there wasn’t any hesitation. Both of your hands wrapped around the young woman’s neck and began to squeeze a bit. This seemed to turn Nagyung more. The constriction around your cock got tighter with each squeeze you gave her neck. Nagyung began to lower her hand down to her clit but you saw this and slapped her hand away. 

“Y-You come when I say so.” 

Your right hand continued to give a few squeezes to her neck while your left hand went to her clit. Rubbing it in circles once more. Your combined efforts were bringing Nagyung to her orgasm, and you were soon to follow. Should you be ashamed about cuming so soon again? Probably not when you were making her cum quickly also. 

Every one of your actions went as fast as they could. The rubbing of Nagyung’s clit, the choking of her neck, and the thrusting Into her walls. 

“P-Please. Just a little more.”

With your constant pace, you saw Nagyung’s body begin to shake as her third orgasm of the night came. A rush of fluids hit the bed as you gave her neck one final squeeze. Just like your hands. Your wife’s walls squeezed around your cock and tried to milk you of all you had. Letting go of her neck, your cum began to fill Nagyung. Pants for air and mains filled the room, just like you filled your wife. 

After a minute, Nagyung pulled her body away from yours and pulled the covers to the bed. Hoping under the covers, you followed her and wrapped her in your arms. 

The room was silent until Nagyung broke the air. 

“Can I be honest?” 

“Sure.”

“That was some of the best sex I’ve had in a while. You were great but I still want to sleep with other partners. I have been doing this for so long and it will just be so hard to change myself. 

You began to chuckle a bit hearing that. 

“I have a compromise. Why don’t you let me sleep with other women and you can sleep with other women as well?”

You were amazed at what you just heard. You were mad about your fiancé trying to sleep with others but now your mind was debating if you should take this offer.

“It’s called an open relationship. And to stay clean I will only sleep with women I introduce you to and you can sleep with women I introduce you to. You already proved that cock can satisfy me. I won’t lie to you anymore or try to trick you but please let me continue this life, dear.”

Should you do it? should you change your morals just to have more sex?

“I’ll let you fuck Saerom unnie first if you would like.”

Your cock twitched at the thought of fucking her. Her beautiful body certainly had never left your mind when you saw it. This deal would be in your favor. 

“Fuck it. Let’s do it. So much for being angry at you for trying to sleep with others."

Nagyung laughed and hopped back on you. The young girl smirked and began to kiss your neck. 

“I hope we can wake up early. Our flight to Jeju is at 7 am. This week is going to be filled with fucking. Let’s see if you can keep up, wimp."

“One way to find out.” 

Plunging Nagyung back on your rod, the young woman began to bounce as you pulled her down for a kiss. 

This relationship is going to be Interesting.

A/n 2- Thank you for reading. Not the best but i hope you enjoyed it. Not sure when i will come back with another piece so until then. Thank you for reading, sorry for typos and see you next time

#kpopsmut #smut #fromis9smut #female idol smut

[reiderwriter]

Smutty part two of the hand to hand combat fic plz

A/N: Your wish is my command! I think a lot of people were frustrated at where I left the first part off lol, so here's a special treat for everyone who lowkey hated me after that lmao. Enjoy! 18+ MINORS DNI Also it is a crime that there aren't more gifs of Spencer wet, I have used most of them ㅠㅠ

You can read the first part here!

Warnings: shower sex, fingering, suggestive washing idk, Intercrural sex (he fucks the gap between her thighs for a while), no contraception, PinV sex, slight cum play? I guess?

You can also find my masterlist here, and if you enjoy my 18+ works, I'm partaking in kinktober, and you can find out about all of my plans here :]

As you washed off the day's sweat, standing in the shower rooms of the FBI gym, you cursed the gods above for making you such a coward. 

If you'd been bolder during your sparring session with Spencer, you could've ended the day in a much more pleasurable way, or you'd at least have the memory of whatever you'd do to aid your fantasies. You thought back to your humbling defeats of earlier that day. You really thought you could get the upper hand on Reid in at least one of your rounds, but no. He’d got the jump on you all three times, leaving you squirming under his touch on the mat as he enjoyed his defeats. 

The second-round had been close, having the initial upper-hand being in the assailant role, but he’d used his extra height to throw you off balance, pinning you to the ground from behind, his hands trapping yours against your lower back. You’d blushed at the compromising position, your ass raised suggestively, his bodyweight pushed on top of yours, crotch to your centre, as you tried stay calm despite the very thin materials of both of your work out gears that separated you. 

Not that you were complaining about the extra contact, but you weren’t beneath using it as an excuse for your loss. In your final round, he’d let you think you hand the upper hand for a second, teasing you about enjoying the view from your place above him, straddling his waist as you pinned him down. By that point, you were beyond horny, reaching near orgasmic levers of desperation to feel him push up into you, and he’d let you enjoy the feeling of your core grinding into him for a few minutes. Just long enough that no one else would notice that your movements weren’t simply struggles to keep him pinned. Then, he’d gone and ruined it by thrusting his hips up quickly and using the momentum and your shock to buck you off to the side, returning you to your earlier pinned pose. Despite the losses, you couldn’t really find much else to complain about other than the fact that you hadn’t kissed him right then and there, having not thrown caution to the wind. 

With each pulse of water from the shower head, you tried to clear your head, but he'd consumed your thoughts. You didn't think you wanted him this badly, but apparently one touch was all it took for you to become aware of the desire you had for him. You let your own hands trail between your legs as you decided to deal with your bodies pent up frustrations.

The door to the bathroom opened, though, just when you were about to get going and you had to pull your hand away as you called out to your new friend. 

"Pen? That you? God I'm so fucking sweaty from that work out." You laughed a little as you greeted her, but the other person didn't make any other noises, stopping dead in their tracks. 

"Y/N?" Somehow your blood ran cold as your body heated up. 

"Spencer? What are you…?" You whipped your head around to get a look at him over the glass shower stall door, pulling your hands over your chest, reflexively. 

"Morgan said the men's showers were broken, and he was heading home to shower. But I can't sit for that long on the subway without getting rid of all this sweat. He said there'd be no one else in here since we stayed so late…. I can… I can leave if you need me to?" 

"No! No, it's okay, it's not like we're using the same shower or anything, and I don't want you to feel so… Uncomfortable." 

He thanked you, then slipped into a stall a three away from your own, as you tried your best not to watch the flex of his arms as he firmly gripped his towel around himself. 

Turning back to your own shower, you decided you needed to speed it up, actually get on with it so you could escape this awkward, tempting situation. You were almost sure this was some kind of divine punishment. You lathered up your hair and began to massage your head when the water suddenly ran so cold it burned. 

"Ah, shit," you whimpered out as you ran from the water as quickly as possible. 

"Um, Spencer?" 

"Y-Yeah," he responded, having heard your moans and immediately perked his head up. 

"Your shower stall, it's the second from the door right?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"Shit, I should've mentioned something," you ran a hand through your hair as you turned off your shower. "That one doesn't work too well, when you use hot water in that one for some reason, it makes the rest of these showers run cold for the rest of the day." 

"Oh, I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't realise." 

"No, it's good, I guess it's just cold shower time for me now." You sighed in a huff of annoyance, and turned your shower back on. 

"Do you… Do you want to come and use this one? My water's still hot and the cold water really won't be good for relaxing your muscles after all that work." 

"With you?" Your eyes meet his over the walls of your shower stall and you try not to sound too eager. Maybe this could be your chance after being such an idiot earlier. 

"Yeah, I guess. I still need to, you know, wash up?" 

You nodded at him then, and began collecting your things, your towels in your hands covering your sensitive areas, but only just as you stepped into his space.

He pressed himself against one of the walls as you entered, doing his best to cover his cock with his hands, but failing pretty miserably. You shot a single look down there, hoping he didn't notice. He was hard, and God did you want to help him out. 

But unsure of how to broach the topic, you ignored it and put your things down, before turning in to face the shower. A little sign of contentment fell over you as you felt the heat against your skin again, body relaxing as you began washing off your hair once again. 

You felt him move until he was a shadow at your back, close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. 

"Y/N, let me help you clean your back. I don't want you to flare up that arm injury, and you're not reaching that well." 

"What?" Ill advisedly, you turn to face him. His eyes trail over your body, landing on the swell of your chest as you stand only millimeters from touching. Gently dragging his eyes back up, he repeats his plea, and turns you around, grabbing your body wash.

"Trust me, I'll help." But you know this isn't going to do any good easing the tension in your body, his hands on you being as distracting as they were. You almost jusmo a little when his bare hands finally come down on your waist. 

"S-Spencer I have a loofah!" You almost moan out as he begins to rub circles into your skin with his fingers spread. He's closer now, and with his hands out of the way. You can feel his cock, bare against your ass, twitching as you realise he's getting a lot of pleasure out of this. 

"Do you know how much bacteria can live on one of those things? You wanted to get clean, right?" It's all you can do not to buck back into him as he releases the words, hands coming up to your shoulders as he works his strength into your skin. His hands feel so good against you, that you barely notice them slipping around your front, as he begins to work on the plains of your stomach as well.

You throw your head back against his chest in pleasure as he slips higher and higher, hands eventually cupping your breasts as he slowly lathers them up, taking his time to feel every single inch of your skin. You whimper in your pleasure, and you hear his heavy breathing similarly pick up. 

"Spencer…" You don't know what your words are asking, begging for, but it's clear he does, as his hands spread. One goes up to your neck, wrapping around you tightly as you gasp out a breath, the other washing hanging in the air as he rids it of soap before trailing down between your legs. 

His fingers find your clit and you whimper. 

"That's it baby, I'm just gonna help you get clean, okay? Gonna make you feel good, too." You nod at his words, giving him the silent confirmation he needs to press his cock in between your thighs and start rubbing it up against you, not yet pushing it in. You're pushing your ass back into him now as he starts to fuck the folds of your sweet cunt, writhing in pleasure everytime his tip catches on your hole, pleasure rolling off your tongue in waves. 

His hand on your neck keeps you from gaining volume, keeping you grounded as he gets you close to that euphoric bliss. You're desperate to actually feel him inside you though, squirming in the hopes that one of his thrusts will accidentally land on target. 

"Spencer, please…" You know what you want now, and you're desperate for him to listen, as you turn your head to the side, grabbing the back of his own as you pull him down for a sloppy kiss. His hips still as he falls into the kiss, tongue dragging over your lips and begging for entrance. His hand stays on your clit though, and within a few more rubs you feel yourself twitch in his arms, fully held up by his hand on your neck. 

"Spencer, please, need you…" 

"Are you sure, Y/N? This is still a public bathroom, and I don't want you to think you have to do anything just bec-" You cut him off with another kiss, and that's all he needs before he's pressing you back into the shower stall, wrapping your legs around his hips and pushing his cock inside of you. 

You pulled his lips down to yours again and again, desperate to taste him, shower abandoned behind you. His pace picked up and soon he was slamming into you, with the full force of his body, the weight that had earlier been used to pin you down now being used to pleasure you to the fullest. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, letting his eyes fall to the place where your two bodies met, his grunts filling the space as you tried your best to bite your tongue. You knew that if you let yourself be as loud as you could've been in that moment, someone would definitely notice. 

"Just like that, Spencer, fuck, just like that." Your hips bucked wildly against his as he pulled your other leg up and around him, holding you fully off the ground as he continued his movements. 

You gripped his back, letting your nails find any purchase they could, dragging scratches down his skin, marking him as yours. You didn't feel so bad about the pain you must've been dealing him though, not when his hands were leaving red handprints on your hips from his tight grip, the sharp discomfort only fuelling your passion. 

"Spence, I'm… Fuck I'm close." Your head slumped into his neck. 

"Cum for my, Y/N, need to feel you clench around my cock." He grunted, and somehow your body listened to his demands perfectly, spilling over the edge with his next thrust. 

He moaned out quickly, lowering your legs to the floor, still holding you up, as he pulled out and stroked his cock a few more times. His white release painted both of your stomachs with his climax, and you fell against each other in your bliss, trying to both gain back your normal heart rate and calm your breath. 

"Spencer, I think we need to get back in the shower," you smiled up at him, and dragged him back over to it as he flushed, not finding the words needed to apologise for his mess. 

You pulled him in for a kiss under the water and mentally thanked Morgan for putting you through hell that day. He pulled away from you to attempt to talk, but you didn't want to let him. 

"You know," he started, but you tried to shut him up again, wanting desperately to feel his lips right back on yours. 

"Y/N, please," he laughed pulling your head away from him as you whined out childishly. 

"You know, Morgan was lying about us needing to do this physical thing." Your eyes bulged at the confession, as you tried to stammer out a reply. 

"What? I… What?" 

"He pulled the same act a year or so ago, too. Y/N, Penelope is never in the field, she doesn't have to do physical training, and we both have enough case hours to cover any further requirements." 

"So he… ThatThat son of a bitch." You muttered angrily to yourself as he ran a hand through your still damp hair, smiling down on you peacefully. 

"Wait, Spencer… If you knew that he was making this whole thing up, why did you go along with it?" 

"Needed an excuse." He pulled you in for another kiss, this one slow and languid, as you felt him twitch to life again at your thigh. 

"An excuse for what?" You moaned out as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving behind a trail of love bites you were sure would bloom into purple bruises, just another decoration for your neck alongside his handprint. 

"An excuse to touch you. You're very good at following professional boundaries, you know?" You laughed at him once more and let him pull you close into him again. It took you an extra hour to shower that day, but it was worth every second. 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #maturereiding

[rachalixie]

forgive me for what i haven't done

summary: you arrive at your enemy's kingdom under the guise of making peace. the prince being nice to you wasn't part of the plan.

genre: strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort

warnings: she/her reader, reader's father is emotionally manipulative and physically harms her, mentions of violence

word count: 17.5k

a/n: absolute massive thank you to @sulfurcosmos, @isilentprincess, and @woahfruity for reading this through and giving me your honest feedback. i truly appreciate you <3 this fic has sent me through the five stages of grief.

you can’t ignore the bruising grip your father has on your arm as he walks you to the steps of the large palace. the journey here was a mere two hours, but it feels like this palace was built out of another world altogether. it’s shorter than your own, absent are the dull reaching peaks and towers of your home, traded for warm bricks covered in snaking ivy and the shining sun peeking through powdery clouds. where it lacks in height, it makes up for in its expanse. the building was wider than any you’ve ever seen. 

it was more beautiful than any building you’ve ever seen, too. 

you hope your nerves don’t show as you throw one last glance back at the carriage you arrived in; it would soon take away your handmaidens that had made the journey with you, and you wouldn’t see them again until you went home. it makes your heart ache that the only people you felt comfortable with were leaving you behind. you try and focus on the present instead, knowing that wallowing in self-pity would get you nowhere. you had hours of meeting strangers ahead of you, making polite small talk with them and learning whatever information you could about the royal family until you could go to bed and be upset in private. you weren’t here for pleasure anyways, your father had reminded you as the carriage had pulled in. you were here for a reason.

the first person you make eyes with is the king, a kind looking man, hair and beard speckled with gray and a soft smile on his face as he takes in his visitors. he had invited you and your father here, a gesture of goodwill, an unspoken plea for peace between your two kingdoms. 

“they want peace,” your father had scoffed, throwing the letter from the neighboring king to his desk. you watched as it slid off and fluttered to the floor. “the scum that killed your grandfather want peace, and they dare ask me to negotiate a treaty with them.”

“well,” you started, swallowing down your nerves like you did every time you spoke to your father. since your mother passed, all those years ago, you had taken over the role of his confidant, like he did with her. though, he never listened to your advice when you gave it; you were simply a body for him to talk at, to pour out his grief and frustration out on. “did the king not overthrow his own father? he is not the man that hurt our family, and i assume neither are his sons. can we not let the past stay in the past?”

the two kingdoms are small - a unity between you would open opportunities for new trading, allies in battle, new paths to resources that your people don’t see.

“their bloodline is rotten,” he says, definitive. “i would be doing the world a service by ridding it of their pitiful existence.”

his words of extremity did not surprise you; he spoke of all of the neighboring kingdoms in this way. he was not one for alliances, keeping the borders of his territory locked to outsiders, deeming them not fit to enter his kingdom. you can barely remember a time when foreigners or immigrants inhabited the now barren lands.

“and the people in their kingdom?” you question. “they are truly innocent. will they be given refuge here once their kingdom has fallen?”

“i do not care!” he spits out at you, eyes burning in anger, and you shrink back a little. “they will burn along with their miserable rulers. i will find a way to take them down, all of them, to make them pay for what they did to my family. and you, gods help me, will do as i say.”

and you would. in truth, you had barely even considered going against him. you were alone, you had no options other than following through with his wishes, no escape from him and his cruelty. you had nowhere to go that he would not find you. and yet, he remained vexed as he moved closer to you, speaking quietly in a manner that was more terrifying than if he was yelling at you. his fingers curl around your upper arm, like a warning-

“welcome,” the king’s voice breaks you out of your memory, and you muster up a smile for him. “thank you for making the journey here. and please, call me stephen. you are esteemed guests here, no need for formalities.”

your father doesn’t offer the same notion back, nodding coldly at your side. king stephen furrows his brow for a moment, and it’s clear on his face that he’s caught off guard. so expressive for a royal, you muse as he shakes his head and the smile returns to his face.

“my sons,” stephen gestures to the boys standing by his side, the ones you had yet to lay your eyes on. “crowned prince christopher, his betrothed, the lady roseanne, and our youngest, felix.”

betrothed? you did not know the older son was engaged. this complicates things. you can feel the anger coming off in waves from your father, and you place your hand on his forearm for a moment. not now, please, you mentally beg, and you almost sigh in relief when the tension leaves his body, turning your attention to the two royals in front of you.

the taller of the two dons a mop of curly hair under his circlet, cleanly pressed clothes shining with the royal blue of their family. a striking woman is at his side, an arm loosely curled around his. as he moves forward to greet your father, linking arms like the king had, your attention is drawn to the boy left standing alone. 

the shorter boy is what you can only describe as ethereal. his features are sharp in all the right places, smoothed out by soft planes and dips covered in starlight scattered freckles. his clothes are similar to that of his brother’s, but no crown adorns his head. 

he might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. it makes your knees weak. 

“i am felix,” he says, his voice deeper than you would expect from the gentle features of his face. he dips his head a bit, a sign of respect, as he takes your hand and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it. your voice is steady when you respond with your own name, and you’re glad for it. 

his attention is diverted when your father’s hand lands on your shoulder, his touch more gentle than it ever is whilst away from prying eyes. 

“my daughter, princess y/n,” he announces, a proud smug on his face when you shyly curtsey. he must think your timidness is a ploy to get their trust, and not as a result of the raging nervousness boiling under your skin. 

“it’s an honor to meet you, your highnesses,” you meet each of their eyes, looking for any sign of malice, but you find none.

“come inside, please,” the king beckons, and the circle of knights that had been flanking him move aside gracefully to make way to the tall archway leading inside the palace. you’re once again taken away by the beautiful architecture inside, melting candles lining the walls made of warm brick. “we will begin the peace talks tomorrow, spend the day settling from your journey.”

“we will go freshen up,” your father states, cutting your exploration short with a poorly concealed fake smile donning his face. you hope no one else can see through him the way you can. “and we will meet you for dinner?”

he doesn’t wait until the king answers before he pulls you off to a hallway, beckoning over a servant and barking at him to show you both to your chambers. you pray to the gods that your hosts see your father’s unorthodox behavior as a difference in customs, rather than rudeness. the servant looks flustered, eyes wide as he directs you to your adjoined chambers, and you almost feel bad for him. you’re sure he can tell when your father’s anger returns, getting stronger the further you walk from the royal family, and you keep your head bowed until the two of you are behind closed doors. 

he lets go of your arm harshly, almost throwing you off of him in his haste and if you weren’t so afraid you would remind him that he probably shouldn’t yell as you’re sure he was about to do.

“he is engaged?” he growls out, teeth gritted together in fury. “this was not in the intel that i was given. this does not fit into our plan!”

his plan was for you to woo the prince, get him to fall in love with you, and then to kill his father and take the throne. nevermind the extensive gaps that he didn’t care to think out, that you weren’t brave enough to tell him about. the thought of the prince not going along with the neighboring king taking over his kingdom never crossed his mind; it was either extreme hubris or immense stupidity on his part. perhaps it was both.

“will i have to marry him? the prince?” you asked, avoiding his eyes. you kept your voice as leveled as you could, but you couldn’t completely mask the apprehension you were feeling.

“you will do whatever is necessary to gain his trust. if the boy proposes, you will accept.” he said, clinical and cold like he wasn’t gambling with your life. if your father was correct, these men were murderers, men who killed others in cold blood. what would the prince do if he discovered your father’s plan? how long was he expecting you to keep up this charade?

“control yourself,” he says when he takes in the tears pricking at your eyes, the wobbling of your lips as the gravity of his words sink in. “those of our class do not weep so easily.”

“what do we do now?” you ask, regretting it almost immediately when his anger turns towards you. you had wished, foolishly so, that he may forget this revenge-fueled nonsense and let you go home. 

“i do not know, stupid girl. why do you not think of something instead of having me do everything for you?” you pray that no servants were listening in through the door, and no knights were making their patrol past the hallway. with how loud he’s speaking, there would be no hiding his ill intentions. “i thank the gods you were born a woman and i can marry you off. with how useless you are, there would be no helping my kingdom with you as a ruler.”

the words sting, your heart aches at the cold insult he’s thrown at you, but it’s not the first time he’s said something like this. it’s at the tip of your tongue to tell him that this wasn’t even your plan, that you didn’t want to betray this kingdom in the first place, that you’re tired of being his pawn in a game only he wants to play. you want to tell him that you would be a better ruler than he is if given the chance, that you almost hope for the day that he keels over and dies because you would be free of him. but you’ve learned to hold your tongue in times like this, knowing that he only says these things out of frustration; flashes of the kind man he used to be when you were younger play through your mind, calming you down as you scramble for some kind of answer. 

“i will go after the younger one,” you start, a half-baked plan forming in your head. “if king stephen and christopher are out of the way, he is next in line for the throne, is he not? we just have a couple more people to get out of the way. befriend the king, distract him and make him trust you. i will handle the prince.”

you disappointed yourself by expecting some kind of verbal affirmation, some kind of praise for doing something right, but all you get from your father is a curt nod and a gesture to leave his chambers.

a nod was better than nothing. a nod was silent assurance that you were doing something right, that he was wrong about you. that you could think for yourself. 

when you enter the hallway, you catch a glimpse of the servant from earlier peeking around the corridor. you smile at him, hoping that he had heard nothing and that your face didn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions clouding around in your head. he simply smiles back, foxy eyes crinkling and he nods at you before disappearing. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

dinner was an incredibly awkward affair; all throughout the meal, you couldn’t avoid meeting eyes with felix from where he was sitting across from you, and you flushed and looked away every time. his eyes were striking, soft browns highlighted with specks of gold reflected from the candlelight. this was the boy you were supposed to woo and manipulate, and you couldn’t even meet his eyes. gods help you.

you weren’t sure if your hosts could sense the concealed hostility in your father’s voice, but you could. he was doing a poor job of hiding his apathy, answering king stephen’s questions with short words or grunts. he eyed his food with judgment and took hesitant bites, even though you thought it was exceptionally made.

even the banquet hall itself was remarkable, banners of blue and gold hanging from the tall ceilings and plants of various kinds lining the walls. light shone down from the high windows, bathing the royals in front of you in a golden light.

“is the food not to your liking?” king stephen asked, a small frown gracing his features when he saw your father’s mostly full plate. 

“this is amazing, like nothing i have ever tasted before,” you voiced, directing the attention to yourself. your own plate was nearly scraped clean, and you might have licked it to savor the flavors if you didn’t have your royal dignity to uphold. 

your heart pounded in your chest from addressing the king so directly. 

“good, i am glad,” stephen smiled warmly at you, quelling your nerves, and his smile reached his eyes in a way your father’s hadn’t for years. “i shall make sure to send your compliments to our main cook, he was worried that the meal would not suit our guests’ tastes.”

“minho worries too much,” christopher laughs, meeting eyes with his fiancée. the way he looks at her sends warmth up your spine, like you’re witnessing kindling sparkling into a burning flame. “his cooking is the best in the entire kingdom.”

it might have turned you off that he was boasting like that if it wasn’t about someone whose status was below his. a crowned prince, giving compliments like that to a palace worker? kitchen staff, at that? it was different, for sure. 

the thought stuck with you for the rest of the night, even as your head hit your pillow at night. though you weren’t so naive to think that first impressions were indicative of their entire nature, it seems that the image of this royal family that your father painted for you might have been more skewed than you initially thought.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

while your father spent the next day with king stephen and their advisors, beginning the process of drafting and scrapping and rewriting peace treaties that you knew would never come to fruition, you were left to your own devices. venturing out of your chambers where you were bound to run into strangers was unsettling, but you pushed the feeling aside as you got dressed.

your father no doubt assumed you were jumping right into spending time gaining felix’ trust, but you didn’t know how to approach the younger prince to fulfill your part of the deal. you didn’t even know how to find him, or who to ask for his whereabouts; the sheltered walls of your home did not provide many opportunities for you to practice talking to people. 

the people here did not seem to have the same problem. wherever you turned, visiting nobles and palace staff sent you smiles, casual how are you’s and i hope you slept well’s handed out to you like spare change. it made your head spin, and the desire to retreat back into your chambers was strong.

you found your way outside instead, through an archway made of brown stone. the fresh air often helped you think. 

your casual walk allowed you to take in details that you couldn’t when you first arrived. the trees and greenery surrounding the palace were things you did not get at home, the forever winter killing off any color you longed to see. crops and livestock were held miles from the palace, outside of the reach of your vision and the invisible leash your father had kept you on, but here they thrived under the midday sun. you had a horse that you called your own, but you were only allowed to use him to travel to nearby towns on the outskirts of the palace property, right outside of the strong walls that surrounded it. none of the villagers there spoke to you past cold formalities, no matter how hard you tried, so eventually you gave up, settling for spending your time inside the castle.

here you found that you simply had to step outside of the palace walls to feel the soft grass beneath your feet, to smell the earth under your nose, to drink in the vibrant pinks and purples of the flowers in the gardens. there were so many trees, tall and strong with no walls blocking your vision of the soft foliage. you found a quiet bench under a tree, leaves and twigs decorating it’s surface from disuse, and you decided to call it your own despite having no ownership of any part of these grounds. 

no ownership yet, if your father had anything to do about it. 

you sat there for hours, drinking in the scenery as the sun made it’s path across the clear sky. you had expected boredom to creep around the edges of your mind, but it never came. the tranquility was so addictive that you found yourself back there, on that same bench, the next morning. and the next, your feet carrying you there before you were even fully awake.

“penny for your thoughts?” a deep voice disrupts your peace on that third day as a slender body sits on the bench next to you, just close enough that the warmth of his body touches your skin. you’re equal parts relieved and distressed when you see that it’s felix, and you smile at him in greeting, hoping that it didn’t come out as a grimace. this time when you meet his eyes, you make an effort to not look away.

“i do not get to see things such as this at home,” you wave your hand towards the garden, towards the birds chirping and the gentle sound of a stream bubbling. “it is beautiful. serene, you know?”

you don’t know how to act around him, and you certainly didn’t expect him to approach you. your words came out awkward, sounding unpracticed and superficial, and you try and hold back a flush from taking over your face. you hoped it wasn’t outstandingly clear how uncomfortable you were in his presence. do better than that, your father’s voice rings in your head.

“i agree,” he turns away from you, drinking in the picture-perfect view in front of you. “i am very lucky to call this place my home. what is yours like?”

“gray,” you deadpan, and the responding laugh he grants you makes your heart skip. better.

“there must be something beautiful there, it cannot just be you, right?” he says, a playful smirk tugging his lips upwards. 

“flattery will get you nowhere, my prince,” you shoot back, enjoying the moment of quick banter between the two of you before your words turned sober. “when my mother was alive, she would paint the hallways and the walls of our chambers with beautiful flowers and vines and clouds. the flowers were my favorite part, she painted them in such beautiful shades of purples and yellows. most of them have been painted over, but the ones in my chambers remain. those are my favorite part of the castle, the most beautiful things i have ever seen.” 

“i would love to see it one day,” he says, adamant and genuine as he takes your hand in his to squeeze it once before letting it go.

“maybe you could visit?” you look up at him through your lashes, a fake gesture to toy with him that left you feeling staticky and wrong. it was a complete lie - you would never subject this beautiful boy to the somberness of your home, lest it dull his brightness. even though he might not have a home soon, you push away the thought.

“only if it means i can see more of you, and not having you hide away,” he says, pointedly, though his face shows no malice. 

“it is overwhelming, for me,” you explain, embarrassed at having been caught. “to be surrounded by strangers.”

“yes,” his eyes are far away for a moment, his head deep in thought. “i understand.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the next morning you had only just left your chambers, planning for another day exploring the greenery around the palace, when you spot felix leaning against the wall opposite of the door. he approaches you with a warm smile and takes your hand, his skin soft under your fingertips. how long had he been waiting there for you?

“my lady,” he bows his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips to press a kiss there, as he had done when you first arrived. “would you care for a walk around the palace? it would be my honor to be your escort for the day.”

“if you ask so nicely,” you smile back, humor seeping into your voice naturally. “how can i refuse?”

“excellent,” his smile widens and he holds an arm out for you to take. “i’ll take you to meet my friends! that way, you will have friends here, too, instead of strangers.”

his friends, you thought, would be nobles and lords and other members of high class that you would have to make fake pleasantries with. while his gesture was sweet, you had no interest making relations with the elite members of this court, the ones whose lives you were planning on upending. the last thing you expected was for him to take you straight to the kitchens, down winding hallways and corridors, marked by the ever increasing aroma of delicious baked goods and mouthwatering herbs.

“minho!” felix exclaims, bouncing on his heels excitedly, catching the attention of a man who was frowning deeply at a pot bubbling over a fire. “this is y/n, i am taking her around the castle today. y/n, this is minho, the king of our kitchens, and a dear friend of mine.”

the way he introduced you, so casually, was perplexing; no one had ever spoken your name without princess or lady preceding it. even more so was his casual use of king when talking about someone of lower class, a term that should be solely reserved for his father. 

“hello, my lady,” minho looks up, his lips turning up into a graceful smile, slightly crooked teeth peeking through his lips. his hair curls around his ears a bit, dainty jewelry adorning his lobes, and his features look almost sculpted in perfection. he’s absolutely beautiful.

“is everyone in your kingdom this pretty?” you blurt out, forgetting yourself, and minho barks into laughter. felix’s hand moves to lay on your arm, right at the crook of your elbow, and if it wasn’t for the amused smile on his face you may have thought you upset him.

“you are one to talk, my lady,” minho says, delight on his face that quickly morphs into exasperation as the pot he was monitoring earlier begins to bubble over.

“careful, min,” felix drawls out, his fingers curling further into your arm. almost possessively. interesting. “she is our guest, not someone for you to flirt with.”

“alright, your royal highness,” minho says distractedly, stirring vigorously. “now stop distracting me, unless you want raw meat and vegetables for dinner tonight.” 

felix grins in response, shooting a wave at the cook before leading you to a door in the back of the kitchens. it follows outside to a set of fields you hadn’t laid eyes on before, a cobblestone path winding through it like a river.

“so, do you think i am pretty too?” he teases as he leads you down the path, towards a set of men - knights - sparring in the midday sun. “or is that reserved for minho?”

“well-” you laugh, startled at his boldness. “i will not lie, you certainly are beautiful. but do not let it get to your head.”

“well as you said, flattery gets you nowhere, my lady,” he laughs too, and the two of you break all composure as you lean into each other. it’s almost too easy to be casual with him, too natural to break the carefully taught formalities that were drilled into you. you thought it might be a challenge, or awkward at the minimum, to get close to the prince, but you’re finding it to be quite an enjoyable experience thus far.

as you approach the knights, sweaty and panting from the exertion of their practice, you point out two men stand out from the rest, wearing armor with the royal colors showing proudly rather than the simple silver of the other knights. they held themselves with grace, power exuding off of them almost effortlessly, and they spark your interest.

“changbin and jisung,” felix points them out. “chris’ most trusted knights, and our friends. i pray for you if you ever get into a poker match with those two, they’ll cheat you out of every coin in your purse, the rascals.”

his voice is fond as his words are teasing, a juxtaposition that fascinates you. you don’t think you can recall a time where someone has used an insult as a term of endearment as he had just done. you lock this away in the back of your mind to ponder on later as you take in the two knights in front of you. the shorter one is clearly fond of exercise, if the muscles that even his heavy armor can’t hide is any clue. his hair is as dark as a raven’s feathers, curling from sweat, and his face is kind. the one next to him is slimmer, but no less strong. his face is round, cheeks swelling from the gummy smile he’s wearing, and his eyes are so pretty. 

“felix!” the more muscular one, changbin as felix had pointed out, beams at the man beside you. “care to join? your moves must be getting rusty with all the sitting around you royals do.”

felix sends a glare to changbin, no heat behind the gesture, and him and jisung laugh in response. 

“i have company, you scoundrels,” felix complains, almost in a whine. “could you not just boast about my prowess on the battlefield? you had to make me look bad?”

“please, lix,” jisung teases before turning his attention to you. “he may not be the most powerful warrior, but he is quick. the most agile swordwork i have seen, probably. it is like he is dancing with his opponent.”

felix flushes, shy under the compliments of his knights, his friends. 

“hyunjin and seungmin must be around here somewhere,” felix muses as he walks you down the corridor lined with knights, back inside and down a hallway you haven’t seen before. “this is where mine and chris’ chambers are. hyunjin is chris’s personal secretary, and seungmin is mine. though, i would consider him more of a menace than anything else.” 

his voice is lined with fondness again, like the way he spoke about minho and changbin and jisung. it’s the same manner as how he talks about his father and his brother, his family. it was like they were all his kin, regardless of blood.

“you are on a first name basis with the staff here?” you ask after a lull of silence, curiosity winning over your hesitance. your own handmaidens did not address you by name, the women who were your closest companions since you were young girls. you had never even thought to grant them the privilege of doing so.

“we treat everyone with the same respect, regardless of status or bloodline,” he says, words sounding a little colder than usual. 

“do not misunderstand,” you quickly correct, not wanting to offend him. because you want him to trust you, your mind supplies. not because you want him to like you. “i think it admirable. it is…different, to how things are in my kingdom. i am simply not used to it. i would prefer it this way, if i had the choice.”

it wasn’t a complete lie; you were searching for words that would win him your favor, but it surprised you how naturally they came to you. 

“do you not?” he furrows his brow, looking at you in confusion. whatever iciness he had before had melted into befuddlement, like he genuinely didn’t understand. “have a choice, i mean.”

you don’t know how to tell him you don’t have many choices at all. 

the silence takes over the both of you again, less comfortable than before, but he remains quiet as if he can sense the thoughts whirling inside of your head. it’s only when you reach the limits of the palace property that you’re thrown out of your mind, glancing at him with unspoken question.

“i thought we could take a stroll through the lower towns to end our day,” he explains, no signs of lingering animosity from your previous conversation. “it is my favorite place to go to get away from the palace once in a while.”

the lower towns, like most things in this kingdom, were not what you had expected. there were children playing in the streets, laughing and screaming while their parents watched on in exasperation. markets lined the cobblestones you walked on, selling vibrant fabrics and jewelry, freshly baked goods and crisp produce, and a variety of trinkets that overwhelmed you in the best way, patrons were striking bargains for products on every corner, trading goods for coin, a smile on each face you encountered.

it was a good distinction from the towns you were used to, where knights patrolled to ensure nothing was amiss. people there lived in fear, not in joy. everywhere you turned, people smiled at the prince beside you, and he would wave back or offer a small nod, ever polite. the few times you had managed to sneak into the lower towns to buy paints and canvas or trinkets as gifts for your handmaidens, you had gone in a thick cloak that covered your face lest you be recognized. here, walking around in your day dress, you felt almost naked. 

a child runs up to felix and wraps his small arms around his legs, bouncing excitedly on his heels.

“prince lixie!” he squeals, and felix leans down to ruffle his hair, a large smile on his face. it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “is that a princess?”

it takes you a moment to realize that the child is asking about you. you don’t interact with children much, your father would never allow them to touch you like the boy is with felix.

“yes, she is,” felix whispers, like he’s sharing a secret. “a very beautiful princess. why don’t you say hello?”

“hello,” the boy turns shy, peeking his head out from behind felix’ leg. the child, you found, could be forgiven for his lack of decorum when addressing you. he had a lot to learn at his young age. “i am joshua.”

“hi, little one,” you say, a little awkward as felix’ eyes are trained on you. “i am y/n.” 

you were at loss for words, but the few words you managed to give had the boy practically beaming at you in response. you watch as felix tells him to return to his friends, because you and him were on official palace business, and the boy nods sagely before scampering off.

“sorry about him,” he says once lucas is out of sight. “i have been visiting him in the village since he was very little. i have taken a liking to him, naughty as he is. he is the son of one of the merchants here, and he lost his mother years ago. i see myself in him.” 

“he is precious,” you take his arm again as he continues down the path. “i always wanted to visit the children in the orphanages at home, but i-” you cut yourself off, a habit you’ve taken to since arriving here. i need to learn to think before speaking. “i have not gotten the chance.”

“the children here are lovely,” he says. “i like learning from them. they keep me humble, remind me that not everyone is born with such privilege.”

he says it so simply, as if it’s his right to question such things; a man born into royalty surely has no business spending time with lower-class children, learning from them. it is one thing to offer them a coin, something that the kingdom could clearly spare. but what could they possibly teach him that his well-respected tutors could not?

you didn’t bring it up, afraid that he would react the same way he had earlier, when you questioned his informality with his staff. afraid that maybe, he would react in anger, though you couldn’t quite imagine the perfect lines of his face twisted into anything but peace.

before the two of you leave, he stops at one of the many stands selling an array of sparking jewelry and scarves, and he asks you if you would like anything. you want to say yes, the handmade twists of metal and dyed fabrics captivating you, but you shyly shake your head. 

you almost miss his forlorn expression when you refuse, turning away from the stand. it’s better this way, to not receive gifts from him. there will be nothing in your possession to remember him by, then.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

as felix drops you off at your door in the evening, the day comes crashing down on you - he’s so kind. everyone here is, from the royal family to the staff and the people living in the villages outside the gates. throughout the entire day you spent with felix, you did not once think about why you were here, simply enjoying his company and learning about him, not the secrets you were tasked with uncovering. 

it’s given you a lot to think about.

as he leaves, he runs a gentle hand down your arm from your shoulder to your wrist, squeezing gently before walking away. even his strides are made in lovely, even steps that makes him look other-worldly.

you lean against the doorframe, taking a deep breath to try and settle yourself, and it’s then that a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye captures your attention. 

a servant is standing just down the hallway opposite from the one felix disappeared into, the same servant who had walked you to your chambers the very first day. the first person here who had smiled at you for no reason other than to be kind.

“hello,” you call out softly, beckoning him closer to you; you don’t know who looks more nervous out of the two of you as he approaches you with uncertain steps. “what is your name?”

“jeongin, my lady,” he almost whispers, hesitant, wide eyes trained on you. 

“nice to meet you, jeongin,” your lips tug upwards. he’s adorable. 

“we have met before,” he blurts out, smacking his hands over his mouth. “i am sorry, i spoke out of turn. i just meant…” 

he trails off, looking down shyly. 

“meant what, jeongin?” you ask, sure to keep your voice light and free of demand despite the curiosity starting to burn in you. what did he mean, you’ve met before? surely, he means within the palace earlier that week, right?

“i used to live in your kingdom,” he admits, his fingers playing with them hem of his tunic. “when i was younger. my mother was a servant in your castle.”

“really?” you gasp, understanding and puzzlement taking over simultaneously. 

“yes, but i left when i was still young,” he explains. “i remember you, though. you were always kind. i admired you for that.”

“thank you, jeongin,” you manage to force out, knowing that you did not deserve his kind words, even as informal as they were given. he was wrong; you were just as wicked as the rest of the nobles in your court. perhaps you were simply better at hiding it.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•──���

your father pulls you into an empty corridor near your chambers the next day, his strength harsh enough to make you stumble over your feet.

“what have you learned,” he speaks in hushed tones, scared of being overheard. it’s more of a demand than a question, as if he simply expected you to have what he needs after such little time.

“i spent the entire day with him yesterday,” you start, choosing your words carefully, lest he discover that you’re actually enjoying yourself here. “he took me around the castle, and i have an idea of the layout, in the case that we need to make a hasty exit.”

“anything else?” he pushes, leaning further into your space. 

“they are…unusually fond of their staff here,” you divulge, more reluctant to give up this information. “they might be of use.”

“good girl,” his smirk is like frost, and he reaches out to cup your cheek. a gesture that, to others, may have seemed paternal, protective. though his touch sends an unpleasant shiver up your spine, his words satisfy some sick satisfaction within you - the need for his approval was met.

“your mother would be proud.”

as he walks away, it makes you queasy how those words make you straighten up, proud. pleased. living in the echo of your mother’s footsteps for so long made you doubtful that you would ever be able to fill them, but maybe this was a start.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you see felix later, walking to the banquet hall with another boy dressed in simple clothes. they pause by the entrance, deep in conversation, and you duck behind a pillar, out of their sight. you’re just close enough to hear snippets of their conversation, when their voices raise from their hushed whispers. they must not want to be overheard, you realize, straining your ears harder. this was your chance to gather some kind useful information for your father.

you close your eyes and listen, picking up puzzle pieces of she’s sick and time off and you’ve almost completed the puzzle when it hits you - though any conversation they might have had was not meant for you to hear, this one in particular felt like a breach of privacy. not of felix’ but of the boy standing before him. 

his secretary, seungmin, that he had spoken about the previous day. the boy who, as you had just learned, had a sick mother, and was requesting some time away to care for her. as you peek around the pillar, you see felix rest a hand on his shoulder, leaning close to the boy before pulling him in for a gentle hug. 

he’s friends with his staff, and he touches them so casually? this didn’t fit. it fit nothing of the way you were brought up, formality and proprietary trained into you, and it fit nothing of the picture your father had painted of the royals that ruled over this kingdom. it seems that with every observation, instead of answers you were left with more and more questions. 

“what are you doing?” a voice sounds from behind you, too close, and you nearly jump. 

“what?” you breathe out, turning to see jeongin standing behind you, eyes wide.

“you were just standing there with your eyes closed,” he explains. “is everything okay?”

“my lady,” you correct, the words leaving your mouth as if it had a mind of its own. “is everything okay, my lady.”

“oh,” he says, twisting his bottom lip between his teeth. “apologies, my lady. there is no such need for formalities here, i had forgotten.”

“it is alright,” you assure, watching as he relaxes and lets out a breath. 

“just, a word of advice?” he says, continuing before you could tell him that no, you didn’t want nor need his advice. “if you are going to be here for some time, you should try and adapt. not to overstep, my lady, you just might find yourself more comfortable if you relax a bit.”

he walks away with a smile, and you’re left alone to reflect on his words. he did overstep, but it does not mean he didn’t give you something useful. adapt, he had said, and perhaps he had a point. felix seemed to be more open with you when you were agreeable, when you didn’t question his strange impropriety. 

maybe becoming one of them, even through a facade, was the key to unlocking whatever you needed to find.

he arrives at your door as the sun was setting, light knocks accompanied by a call of your name that you almost couldn’t hear. you call out softly for him to enter, a delighted smile taking over your face when you see what he has grasped in his hand, held out in offering.

a beautiful bouquet of flowers, wrapped in creamy tulle. the petals were a vibrant purple, highlighted by sharp yellows and soft whites towards their center. they were violas, your mother’s favorite flower. 

you hadn’t seen one since she had passed. your father had forbade anyone from growing them on his lands.

“how did you know?” you gasp, smiling at him brightly as you take them from him. you move them closer to your face, and if you were alone you might bury your face into them, savoring their powdery sweet smell. “that these were my favorite flower?”

“you told me,” he says, ears turning pink under your attention. “that your mother painted your room in purple flowers. i just guessed, but from your reaction i hope i got it right?”

how had he remembered such a small detail that you had given him, when you knew little to nothing about him?

“oh, felix, they’re perfect. you remembered such a small thing?”

“there are a lot of things i wish to know about you,” he confesses. 

“likewise,” you smile at him. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

smoke, creeping through the gap between the floor and the wooden door, rising in curling pillars towards you. snaking around your neck, entering your throat and your nostrils, burning your lungs to ash. you scramble for the doorknob, but the moment your fingers hit it you’re snatching your hand back - it’s icy hot, unable to touch. 

there is no escape.

the windows - covered by royal blue curtains, catch fire from below, and you throw them back. you need air, something to clear out your crumbling lungs, but when you look outside the city is on fire. red-hot flames lick up the side of the palace, trees turned barren and flowers burned to a crisp. 

in the center you can see felix, flames surrounding him but not touching. he’s whispering something, and you cry out that you can’t hear him. speak louder, please, you beg. help me.

“this is your fault,” he speaks, his voice right in your ear, but when you turn towards it, it’s not felix next to you. it’s your father.

his hand slides around your waist, pulling you close to him, embracing you. 

“good work,” he says, proud smile on his face as the both of you watch the city fall to the flames. “i knew you could do it.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

since the younger prince had taken you on a tour of the castle, you’ve seen him every day. sometimes he would greet you at breakfast, disappearing afterwards only for him to show up at your door later to ask you on a walk around the grounds. other times he would be waiting for you outside your chambers when you woke up with a basket of fresh pasties baked by minho for you to enjoy together, and he would watch in delight as you savored the flavors. on rarer days, you would only see him in passing while he was between duties, but he would stop to press a kiss to the back of your hand, every time. 

you played along with him, accepting his flirting and responding in turn. it came instinctively, and you often forgot that you were meant to be luring him into a false companionship, not a real one. he was alluring, smart with a fragment of recklessness, soft with sharp edges, a perfect balance of everything. 

as the days passed, he would get bolder. his touches lingered for longer, the searing heat of his hand pressing on your arm, your shoulder, on the small of your back. his kisses moved from your hands to your cheeks and your temples, to the crown of your head, and it left you aching for more. he didn’t hold back his compliments, reflecting not only on how beautiful he found you but also how thought you were clever, intelligent, good-natured. you never thought those things about yourself, but something in the way he said it made you think they were true.

in the times that you weren’t with felix, you spent time with jeongin. the boy was as sweet as he looked, the the more time you spent together, the more his shyness melted away to reveal sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. you found your own walls dropping around him too, his easy companionship making it difficult to remain closed off to him. he reminded you of the home of your childhood, the one that you missed fiercely, and you were grateful to have him by your side. he kept you humble, holding you accountable for the way you acted, even though a spark of fear remained within him any time he spoke his mind in that regard. you managed to hold back your annoyance at his remarks, and soon you found that it simply faded out of reach. you became fast friends, almost too quickly, evidenced by the way he would raise his eyebrows at you when he saw you with felix, like he could see right through you.

you were lucky that your attraction to the prince was all that he could see through. the weight of your impending betrayal was like a shackle on your ankle, following you wherever you went, impossible to truly forget about. while you had yet to learn anything about the royal family that could serve as a benefit to your father, you saw your relationship with felix as a betrayal in it’s own right. if you were better, you would leave him alone - you would leave this kingdom entirely, and refuse to play any part in their downfall. but you couldn’t physically stay away.

you couldn’t stop from filing away small bits of information that might serve to be useful, either. the prince’s brother’s favorite meal, in case the opportunity to poison him came along. his father’s daily schedule, told to you by felix freely when you had asked, your fingertip running down his arm from his shoulder to his wrist. the likely areas where secrets may have been hidden, restricted to you and glossed over by felix when he would walk with you around the castle. you hated it, categorizing this information into handy little parcels that you would deliver to your father.

a welcome distraction came in the form of the very thing you should be avoiding; on a few occasions, felix had christopher and his betrothed, roseanne, accompany the two of you on whatever excursion he had planned for that day. 

a simple picnic in the garden, juicy fruits picked just that morning and fresh baked bread and crumbly cheeses to snack on while the four of you talked. conversation came easy with chris and roseanne, once you broke out of the too familiar anxiety that surrounded you when with new people. felix’s warmth from where he was settled next to you, allowing you to lean into him, helped more than you wanted to tell him. chris was so similar to his brother, sharing his kindness and his humor, though his jokes were cheesier than felix’ dry sarcasm. roseanne was lovely, someone who you could see as a close friend under different circumstances. 

a on a visit to the lower towns, just as lively as it was the first time you went. it was then that you officially met hyunjin and seungmin, the prince’s assistants. the way they bickered with one another, and their royal counterparts, made you laugh so hard that your stomach ached with it. even they were striking, and it left you wondering whether one’s disposition on the inside reflected their beauty on the outside. 

your friendly chatter continued into mealtimes, where the kings would join you, the very few times where you would get to see king stephen at all. he bantered with his children, asking them about their days and their plans for the next ones, acted like a father instead of a king with them. it sent a pang of longing through you - your father had been like that, before. you don’t think he remembered how to be a father, anymore.

as much as you loved the prince’s company, you hated the approving nods you would get from your father whenever he saw you and felix together. the acknowledgement that you craved for just weeks ago felt near futile now - he didn’t see that instead of making the prince fall for you, the opposite was taking place. he didn’t see the genuine connection between the two of you, the way you craved for him, the way nothing else seemed to matter when he was in front of you. he didn’t care about your heart, about how it would likely break beyond compare when he he was finished here. he didn’t care about you. 

the you that was falling for felix. for his compassion, for his gentle nature, for his quick wit and effortless beauty. for the way he treated those around him, for the way he spoke to you like you were more than a pawn in a cruel game of chess. it made you sick to your stomach to think about what was to come, what you hopelessly wished you could avoid. you find yourself wishing, not for the first time, that you and your father were truly here seeking peace. that you could imagine a future here without guilt gnawing at your chest.

the closer you grow to felix, the stronger the gnawing feeling in your stomach becomes. but you can’t stay away from him, even if you tried; the sparking light in his eyes drew you in and you were helpless to his magnetic pull. the way he would beckon you over with his hand, palm facing upright as if waiting to join with your own, left you no choice but to go to him. you knew you were selfish, spending time with him out of your own desires while doing nothing to warn him of what was to come and making no actions to follow through with your father’s wishes. you knew your time here, living in peace, was running short, the last dribbles of sand slipping down an hourglass.

and yet, when he finally pulled you into an empty alcove and held you close so that he could press his lips gently to yours, you let him. you responded in kind, moving together with him like some kind of dance. 

when he invited you into his chambers and into his bed, you didn’t say no. even then, when he gave you all of himself, you took it. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

fire, this time contained in a ring of wooden slats, smoke curling up into the night sky. felix, by your side, you tucked into his side while the two of you claim it’s warmth for your own.

“why?” felix says, running a hand up and down your arm. you hum, snuggling further into him when a breeze makes it way to you through the trees surrounding you.

“why what?” you ask, voice syrupy sweet.

“why did you do it?” he turns towards you, the flames still visible in his eyes. he glances over your shoulder pointedly before turning back to the campfire, pulling you into him again. you look behind you, and a firestorm meets your vision. you can barely make out the outline of the beautiful palace through the inferno, but a figure stands out in the center of it. you move closer, the heat threatening to scorch your skin, to see your father strapped to stake. burning. dying.

you turn back towards felix, question dying on your lips when he’s not there. a sick feeling enters your stomach as your gaze returns to the fire, and where your father was is felix in his place.

you let out a horrid scream.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

waking up to the sight of felix, blonde hair illuminated by the morning light like a halo around his head, was something you think you could never get used to. even if you were allowed this under better circumstances, if the two of you had fallen together after meeting at a ball or a diplomatic meeting, his beauty was something that you truly could not comprehend. 

you have half a mind to scold both him and yourself for breaking proprietary, for falling into bed with one another out of wedlock, as parts of two separate kingdoms that have yet to establish ties. you don’t, though; you were as much at fault as he was, and you had enjoyed it too much to ruin it for either of you. you do not acknowledge the guilt that was creeping up inside of you from your dishonesty, or the remainder of fear that lingered from your dream. looking at felix while he slept seemed like a much better way to spend your time.

he is equal parts pretty and cute when he mumbles, smacking his lips together as his eyelids flutter, holding onto the last pieces of sleep he can. when his brown eyes peek through his eyelashes and land on you, you can see the smile in his gaze.

“morning,” his deep voice rumbles, and he pulls you close to him by the waist. you land almost on top of him, his movement making you lose your balance from where you were perched on your elbow watching him, and you both let out breathless laughter at your undignified flailing. you settle against him, his chest pillowing your head while you trace senseless patterns into whatever patches of skin you can find.

you can still feel the phantom touches that he had imprinted on you the night before, as he held you more gently than anyone ever had. you can feel the silky smooth strands of his hair under your fingers, the ghost of his breath panting against your neck. you can hear the sweet sounds you pulled out of him over and over. 

“penny for your thoughts?” he asks, just as he did when he met you in the gardens the very first time. 

“mm,” you sound, not wanting to break the peaceful silence the two of you were basking in. “just thinking about my mother.” 

“oh,” his face drops in sadness. not in pity, but in compassion. in empathy, for of all people he would understand; he lost his mother, too. “can i ask how she passed?”

a refusal is at the tip of your tongue, as it is when anyone asks about your mother, but it fizzles out when you look at him. you found yourself wanting to talk about this with him.

“she was sick,” you start, early memories of your childhood filtering into your head. “since i can remember, she was sick. it took over her body slowly, it took years for her to succumb to being bedridden. she would paint for hours and hours, back then, until she collapsed. but then, it took over her mind too. that was the worst part, her forgetting who my father was, who i was, forgetting who she was. when she passed, it was almost a relief, i could not stand to see her in that state of pain anymore. i was twelve, when it happened.”

“i am sorry,” his voice is deep, thick with sadness. “that sounds like something a child should never have to go through.”

“what about…” you trail off, not wanting to make it sound like the two of you were trading secrets like giggling children. 

“she was murdered by bandits, in the lower towns, just a few years ago,” he answered your unfinished question. “she went further than she was supposed to go from the castle grounds, and she always refused to bring knights with her. my father blames himself, and i blamed him for a long time too. but it was not his fault.”

“i am sorry, too,” you place your hand on his cheek, hoping the weight of your caress would surpass the lack of words you offered him. 

“as strange as it is to say, i-” he cuts off for a second, letting out a strangled laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “i am glad that you understand. it is hard telling these things to people that have not experienced that kind of pain.”

you don’t think it’s strange at all. it settles something within you, the part of you that had felt so alone for years. for all of his charms, it was this display of raw honesty that transformed what you had thought to be superficial attraction into something more, something deeper.

“i feel the same,” you close your eyes, trying to tamper the nausea that arose at those words. you’re going to take his father from him too, your back-stabbing mind informs you. and his brother, you don’t deserve his comfort. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

your father calls for you that morning, sending a note to your chambers. you only see it when you finally get out of felix’ bed and make it to your own to freshen up, a smile present on your face that you can’t help. 

every step you take towards your father’s chambers feels more and more like you’re signing your death wish, and the sound of his door opening several moments after you knock on it sounds like cannon-fire in your head.

“you asked for me?” you move closer to the desk where he had sat, and from your position you could see messy piles of paper with words that had been angrily scrawled on them. 

“i have asked you for many things,” he starts, voice dripping with condescension. “but it is good to see that you can manage to follow simple orders.”

his passive aggression makes your blood boil; after weeks of being treated so kindly by your hosts, your patience was wearing thin in the face of your father.

“i am trying to earn their trust fully,” you try to reason. “it is taking longer than expected.”

“and sharing a bed with him is not enough? whoring yourself out to them has not given you the opportunity to find out what you need?” his words were almost enough to make your skin catch fire. how did he possibly know what you and felix had done? “complete what i have asked of you, now. the faster we finish this, the quicker we can leave this horrid place.”

leave this place, and go back to what? an empty castle where you are disrespected, forgotten, ignored? a place with no life, no joy, no laughter? you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore, but you were certain that going back was not a favorable outcome.

“i’m not a servant that you can bark orders to,” you bit out, regretting it almost instantly when he stood up so fast that his chair fell to the floor behind him. 

“watch your mouth,” he growls, stalking towards you, and you take a few steps back from him. “it seems that the only thing you’ve learned from the insolent brats here is how to be weak. how to disrespect your king, the one who has clothed you and fed you since you were born.”

your king, he said. not your father. 

he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back, back, back until you’re up against the door, his grip strong enough that you knew would leave behind a ring of bruises. you wish you could deem this unfamiliar, but the sensation of feeling pain caused by his hands was not uncommon.

“i am growing tired of your excuses. you think they care about you? they would kill you in an instant if they knew what you have been hiding.” he moves closer, until his face is inches from yours and you cannot look anywhere but at him. “if you know what is good for you, you will stop this insolence and do as i say.”

when he removes his grip from you, your knees give out, and you brace yourself against the doorframe to keep from falling. he returns to his desk, not sparing you a glance as you leave his chambers and close the door behind you.

you don’t notice the frightened frame that had been standing outside the door through the tears clouding your vision.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you’re sitting at the fireplace in your chambers when you hear your door open, jeongin slipping in and closing it quietly behind him. he settles himself next to you, taking in your haggard appearance.

“your father is not here to make peace, is he?” he asks, his voice quiet and free of judgment. like he was confirming what he was already known to be true, not making an accusation.

“no,” you answer simply, too exhausted to try and lie to him. your friend. maybe the first real one you’ve ever had.

“you are helping him.” he says, letting a crumb of distress loose into his voice.

“yes.”

“you have come here under the illest of intentions, gained our trust,” he starts, calm. quiet.

“i know,” you sigh.

“you are going to hurt a lot of people.“

“i know.”

“you are going to do it, even though you do not want to.”

“i know, jeongin!” you snap, feeling guilty when he jumps a little.

“it’s just,” he’s playing with his fingers, a tell of his nerves. “i remember what it was like, at home. before, and then after. when things changed, when people became meaner. more cold, and closed off. that is why we left, and came here. don not make us go through that again.”

“i am sorry,” you whisper, a heavy, uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach at his words. all you can offer him is an empty apology, useless as it is.

“i had hoped that you would be different. that you would stay true to who you were, or who i thought you to be.” he’s looking into the fire, not blinking as if mesmerized. as if he’s trying to dissociate from this moment in a way you wish you could. “when i saw you here, you still had it. that light, from before.”

“i do not want to do it, innie,” you choke out, echoing his words while your eyes burned. “i do not know what to do. i never wanted this, i hate it.”

“i know,” he says. “i can see it. in everything you do, your hesitation, the way you hold yourself back. but you do not understand.”

“understand what?” you’re exhausted, you don’t have it in yourself to be frustrated at him.

“that you have a choice,” he says, as if it was a simple thing. “that you can choose to end this, choose to do what you know is right.”

“i am scared,” you wobble out.

“being scared is good,” he finally breaks away from the fire, but the light in his eyes burns just as bright when he looks at you. “it makes you genuine. that is what makes you different from him. but you do not have to let that stop you.”

“i do not know how,” you whisper, voice barely carrying over to him. 

“figure it out,” he says, just as quiet. “or i will do something, that you will not like. i will not let you harm my friends, no matter who you are.”

he leaves you then, slipping out of the chambers as quietly as he had come in, leaving you to your thoughts and what felt like a never ending stream of silent tears flowing from your eyes.

the next morning, you hand jeongin a note to give to hyunjin for christopher. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the sun had been set for hours when you wrap a scarf around your neck to hind the greenish blue splotches forming around your neck and secure the buckles on your boots. you hadn’t seen felix all day, but you knew that if he asked you to spend the night with him that you wouldn’t be able to follow through with what you were about to to.

your cloak shrouds your face from anyone who might be awake as you quickly make your way through the gardens, to the bench that you often inhabited. christopher is already waiting there for you, a grim look on his face.

“why did you ask me here, my lady?” he asks, clearly confused. 

“please, i need you to listen to me,” your voice is hushed, like you’re scared of anyone hearing despite the hour of day and the concealed location you had chosen.”i am going to tell you things that you will not like, but i need you to listen until the end.” 

“are you alright?” he looks concerned at how desperate you sound, but you shake your head. now isn’t the time for him to worry about you.

you tell him everything. the things your father had said about his family, the plan he had concocted before even stepping foot in this kingdom, the way his demands have been increasing from your lack of progress. the way you had changed as a result of being around the people here, that you didn’t wish to play in your father’s game any longer. you watch as his face morphs from surprise to anger to betrayal and back again, a cycle of emotions that might be comical under any other circumstance. 

there were many ways you could have done this; telling the king for one, but this would open the chance of him ending your life along with your father. trying again to reason with your him, making it clear that you weren’t going to comply with his demands, but you could never see him compromising his mission. there was one single thing that you had thought of that had a chance of succeeding, with your head still attached to your body.

you end your speech with a demand, simple as it is, and that’s when he shows disbelief.

“you want me to kill your father?” he asks, incredulous. 

“i may have loved him once,” you admit, voice thick with emotion. “but not anymore. he is not my father anymore, he is a tyrant. there is not a single soul in the kingdoms that would benefit from him being alive.”

“how do i know i can trust you?” he raises a cool brow, indifference masking whatever he was truly feeling underneath. “what if this is part of your plot?”

“you do not have time to consider my legitimacy!” you cry out, desperate. “i have tried to delay him, to think of some way out of this. he is getting angrier by the day and i fear that he will do something without thinking, something bad, and soon.”

“why not just leave then?” he asks, as if giving you a test. for all it was worth, it was a test that you wanted to pass. “why go through all of this when you could just get out, save yourself?”

“that would not be fair to my people, to leave them with him,” your words come out more passionate than you expected them to. “they deserve better than that. and it would not be fair to you, either. you have shown me more compassion than anyone has since my mother was alive. i will not repay that kindness by leaving like a coward.”

“has he hurt you?” the question catches you off guard, as does the concern filtering through his gaze. you bite your tongue; you want to answer, tell him yes, but that tiny, frightened version of you inside stops the words from coming out. you want to pull down your scarf, show him visible proof of the way your father treats you, but your hands feel like lead. he takes your silence as a confirmation though, nodding and cursing under his breath. 

“i will not kill him,” he says, and you open your mouth to beg, plead for him to listen, but he holds a hand out as he continues. “but i will keep my guard up. i will not take this lightly; my father’s life is in danger, and i will take every precaution while i gain information.”

you sigh through your nose, defeat making your body sag into the bench. this was your last chance; chris may as well have just sealed all of your fates.

“please understand,” he says, weary. “i cannot go to my father with accusations when i have no proof. i believe you, i just need evidence before i can act.”

“please, just,” you say as you stand, not wanting to ask him for another impossible task he might refuse. “do not tell felix? i cannot have him getting caught up in this. i do not want him hurt.”

“you care about him.” he states, as if he is already sure of your answer. 

“more than i thought possible,” you answer, and it is the truth.

“i cannot promise you that i will keep him in the dark. he is my brother,” he frowns. “we do not keep secrets from one another.”

“please,” it’s all you can say before you walk away, pulling your hood back over your face. you can only hope that he will listen to your plea. if not for your sake, but for felix’.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you should go to your own chambers, should stay away from felix until things were figured out, done and over. but your feet take you to his door instead of your own, and you’re inside his chambers before you can second-guess your stupid decision. you can tell he’s awake by his breathing, irregular and short, and it both pains and excites you that you are allowed to know things about him in that capacity.

“hi,” you keep your voice low, almost a purr as you climb into the bed and throw an arm around his curled up form. his nose scrunches and he wriggles a little bit, almost dislodging you, but you keep your grip strong. you don’t know when you will get this again. 

“you smell like outside,” he complains, his body going lax. “where were you? i missed you.”

“just checking on some things,” you mumble into his skin, your lips finding home on the back of his neck. “i am all yours now.”

“do you not have people to check on things for you?” he asks, opening his eyes finally and turning his head towards you. you’re glad for the lack of light that keeps him from really seeing you. seeing the stress pinching your brows together, and the guilty frown that you can’t get rid of. “i have told you, my staff are there at your disposal. for whatever you need.” 

“why trust others to do things i can do myself?” you quip back, the guilt of not telling him eating at you. you bury your face into his neck, hiding yourself, and the hand he tangles into your hair soothes you a bit. you feel tears welling up against your will and you let a shaky breath out into his honeyed skin.

“are you alright?” he tries to move your head up to look at you, but you refuse, shaking your head.

“i just really care about you, you know that right?” you admit, the last words you spoke to chris echoing in your head. “i didn’t expect to ever care about someone this much.”

“i care about you too,” confusion laces his words, and he runs a hand up and down your back. “are you sure you are alright?”

“i will be.”

so will he. you would make sure of it, somehow.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

felix is out of bed by the time you awaken the next morning, but it isn’t something unusual to wake up to cold sheets next to you. he is a prince, after all, and he can’t spend all hours of his day with you. if anything it’s better that he’s gone today; it will help you keep the distance that you failed to keep the night before.

you’re slow as you dress, the decision you made before you succumbed to sleep weighing heavily on your shoulders; you were going to speak to your father, for a final time. you were not going to give him a choice, you were going to rob him of the basic right that you he so often deprived you of. you were going to make him listen to you, for once.

but when you enter his chambers, he is absent from them. you try and dampen the dread creeping up your throat; surely, he wouldn’t act now? only a couple of days after you last spoke?

you approach his desk, looking for any sort of clue that might lead to his whereabouts, but what you find is worse than you’d imagined. pages upon pages of plans, detailed imagery of how he wanted to kill the king and his sons, how he wanted to enslave the people here, how he would take the resources here and let the land rot and decay, all scribbled down in near nonsensical sentences. 

stupid man, leaving these out for anyone to see. you swipe them off the table, folding them neatly and tucking them into the bodice of your dress where no one would find them, just as your father enters the chambers. your hand flies to your chest, covering up what you had just done, but your father must think it an act of surprise from his lack of acknowledgement.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, eyes narrowed on you. you hold your head up even when you want to cower before him. 

“the crowned prince knows of your betrayal,” you inform, watching as his eyes filled with anger. no fear, as you had expected.

“how,” he growls, making quick steps towards you and taking both of your arms in a harsh grip. his rings dig into your flesh, 

“i told him,” you say, surprised when the words come out clean and leveled and your head stays up high. “i will not help you any longer. the king will know soon, and you will be thrown in prison.”

it was an empty threat; you knew the king was still unaware of what was going on. 

“you would trade me for these people you barely know? the same people who killed your moth- your grandfather?” and it clicks into place. he made a mistake, he misspoke, and it showed the last of his cards that he had kept so carefully hidden from you. it’s clear now: he’s gone mad, searching for some kind of revenge, even if it is on the wrong people. he’s locked himself into some grief-fueled conspiracy, and you realize now that he’s truly lost to you. that he had been lost, for years now. 

“you are not fit to rule over anything,” you snarl. “you are not fit to be a father, you are not fit to do anything more than sit here and place blame on everyone but yourself!”

he doesn’t react for several moments, searching your face for something, before letting out a bark of laughter, eyes wild.

“you ungrateful, insolent, stupid girl,” he shakes you with every word, and your teeth rattle. “you think you can threaten me?” 

he raises a hand and the back of it strikes you across the cheek, metal catching on the delicate bone there. you fall to the ground, the force of it knocking you off balance, and when you raise a shaking hand to your burning skin it comes back flecked with blood. 

“get out of my sight,” he spits at you, stepping around your form as if you were a mere pest before him. “this changes nothing. your threats mean nothing, but heed mine. if you ever step foot in front of me again, i will have you hanged. from now on, you are not my daughter. you are nothing.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the walk to your chambers feels longer than usual despite your hurried steps, and you can’t shake the feeling that something unfortunate was going to happen, soon. what did your father mean when he said that your warning changed nothing? did he not believe you?

you don’t dwell on his clear descent to madness for long; you curse yourself for not seeing the blatant signs of it earlier, his obsession and his misplaced fury, but you know that there are more pressing issues that need your attention. 

perhaps a further look at his aimless scribbling would give you some answers. either way, it was the proof you needed, the evidence chris claimed was necessary to have before approaching king stephen with your claims. you knew needed to act, and soon.  

when you find felix already in your chambers, his presence is enough to qualm the hurricane raging under your skin. it comes back full force, though, when you look at him and he’s angry. 

“when were you going to tell me,” he starts, voice ice cold like you’ve never heard it before. it terrified you. “that you were planning to kill my family?”

“what?” you gasp out, every nerve in your body freezing to stone. any urgency you were feeling regarding your father is wiped out, replaced with cold trepidation. chris told him.

“you came here to kill my father, to kill my brother and his love and to, to use me,” he grits out, voice trembling, and you can’t stand it.

“no, i-” you choke out, the words escaping you. you wanted to tell him everything, wanted to show him what you had found and bring the evidence to his father together, but you can’t get it out. “maybe at first, but no, not anymore-”

“not anymore?” he cries out, incredulous. “how can i trust anything you say to me? you’ve been lying to me since you got here, lying about everything, lying about caring for me-”

“no, felix, i love you,” the confession rips out of you and the timing couldn’t be worse. you wanted to tell him after, when things were not in the uncertain state they were in now. you wanted to give him the confession he deserved, something worthy of the man that he was. he shakes his head at your words, crystal tears forming in his eyes.

“you do not get to say that to me,” he bites out. “i do not even know who you are, you have been lying to me from the beginning, playing with me, you do not get to say that.”

“i did not want to,” you almost wail, the feeling in your knees giving out as you fall to his feet. the emotions that you haven’t been letting yourself feel were pouring out of you. “i did not want to, but he would have killed me, or married me off to some brute to get rid of me and i had no idea what to do.”

you want to shout, look at what he did to me, look at the evidence of what he would do to me, but you can’t. 

“stop. stop talking.” he drags you to your feet by the arm, grip harsh like he would rather do anything than be touching you right now. “get out of my chambers. i want you and your father out of my home, and if you do not leave i swear to the gods i will tell my father to have you hanged.”

you stumble towards his door, turning back to throw one last pleading glance at him, and you regret it as his next words cut you right to the core.

“they warned me about you, did you know that?” he’s no longer speaking out anger, but rather cold indifference. it’s worse, somehow. you wanted to ask who they were, but in the moment it truly didn’t matter. “they told me about your family, how vile you all are. how you would poison us from the inside. but when i laid eyes on you, i did not believe them. i know now, that i should have.”

your body remains frozen long after he leaves, and you don’t realize that your body has moved to your bed until jeongin peeks his head into the door.

“innie,” you choke out from where you’re laying over the covers. he rushes to your side, and his face falls when he sees the tears leaking from your eyes. 

“what happened?” he pushes your hair out of your face with the tips of his fingers, so gentle that you can’t help but let out a sob. 

“felix,” you stutter out. “he hates me- he wants me gone. and i don’t blame him, i hate me, but innie, it hurts.”

you let jeongin pull you into his arms, tears leaking into his shirt, and even then your traitorous heart wishes it was felix holding you like this. the last thing you remember before sleep clouds your mind is jeongin whispering i’m sorry into your hair.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

fire, but this time it surrounds you. not burning, but encasing you in warmth, covering your body completely. it spreads, catching onto the surfaces around you.

it’s threatening to combust, taking you with it. you didn’t know what do to. flee? protect, your mind demands. so you run, past door after door, passing by people who beckon you inside. you can’t, you need to leave.

chris, asking you to come inside. minho, calling you in for a meal, fresh and fragrant. jeongin, asking you to join him, telling you he’s worried about you. 

felix, standing still as stone on his balcony. your father behind him, eyes dark as they narrow in on the prince. no.

you rush to them, gliding past felix, your flame sliding off his skin like water. you push your father away, your momentum carrying the both of you forward as the flames catch on his frame.

falling, falling, falling, off the balcony towards an endless pit of darkness. you look up and felix is watching, beautiful face twisted in anguish as he watches the two of you plummet.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you didn’t leave. despite felix’ warnings, you didn’t make any moves to flee the castle. you needed to see this through, needed to ensure that the people here were safe; the only way you would leave this palace is in the absence of your father’s company. if you were going to die, you would rather it be by stephen’s hands than by his.

you almost don’t leave your chambers, terror paralyzing you as you sit on your bed, waiting nervously for something to happen. whether it be news from christopher about his efforts or a group of knights ready to take you to the dungeons, your body itched for some action. you don’t leave for breakfast, and you don’t let jeongin in when he quietly brings you a meal and leaves it at your door. you pick at it, watching the morning sun rise into the sky and wishing you had a jug of wine to drown yourself in.

by midday, you had made up your mind; you were going to enter the king’s chambers, deliver him the information you had, and sneak away from the palace at night. where you would go, you did not know, but you knew that you were not welcome in either court anymore. you had ostracized yourself from your home and from the group of people here that you hoped to one day call your family. 

you had no one. and it was your own doing.

you push away the thought as you hurry through the familiar halls, stopping at one of the only doors you had yet to enter. the king wasn’t in his chambers, you discovered, when you spent several minutes knocking on the door to no avail. the council chambers were empty as well, and you felt your heart speed up as you raced through the halls, avoiding any person you saw. your boots clicked on the stone as you hastily entered and exited chambers and hallways, searching desperately for the king, hoping he was here somewhere. 

you find them in the banquet hall, a smile on stephen’s face as he signs a long document with a feathered quill. you’re not close enough to see what it is from you’re standing behind a column at the entrance to the hall, hiding your presence from them. your father moves to stand next to the king when he finishes, leaning in close as he takes the quill from him, and he raises his hand behind the king’s back. in his hand, sunlight glints off of a piece of metal in his hand - a knife,

you look around desperately for a knight to alert, but you find none. why are there no knights here? your stomach lodges itself into your throat as you stare at the two kings, frozen as your father readies the knife, poised to strike stephen right in the center of his back -

“no!” you cry, breaking away from the spot you were glued to as you run faster than thought was possible have towards them. your father turns towards your voice in shock, the knife slicing through the king’s side in a clean movement, and the king falls. 

“what are you doing?” your father snarls, the man by his feet forgotten as his attention turns to you. you spare stephen a glance, meeting his wide eyes, and you hope he can see the apology in yours. your father’s forward movement moves your attention to him, and you see him stalking towards you with his knife poised. “i am growing tired of your foolishness, you wretched girl.”

“if you want to kill someone, kill me. not him,” you plead, backing away from him. “he did not kill her, you know that. this, this delusion you are living under, it needs to stop!”

“do not speak of her to me,” you can see his anger rising, redness traveling up his neck. “you are a poor excuse of a woman compared to her. you know nothing. everything i have done, i have done for her, and i will kill you and the rest of them if i need to.”

you’ve heard your father recount his killing of countless adversaries, spoken in cold tones with no regret, but to see him with his weapon raised at you is something you had never imagined in all of your days. it was a truly terrifying sight.

he backs you into the same column you had been hiding behind earlier, a mirror image of the way he had cornered you in his bedchambers days ago. his free hand circles your neck, covering the bruises that he had left behind then, and your hands fly to his wrist.

“this will never free you,” you choke out, tears brimming in your eyes that make your vision blurry. this way, when you look at him, his features are so unfocused that he almost looks like he used to, when he was sane. kind. “do you not understand? this will not bring her back. you will be truly alone.”

“better to be alone than living with you as a reminder of what i have lost,” he says softly, the sharp blade of the knife pressed to your side, stinging as it nicks your skin. 

you close your eyes, resigned to your fate. this was how it was going to end, no matter what. you, suffering from the result of his hands, his jolted mind. you, a mere ghost of your mother, biding your time in this world until he decided that you had none left. living a life that would never truly be your own. 

no.

your eyes fly open and meet his and he hesitates, the knife pulling back the smallest bit. you take the chance, your hand moves from one of his wrists to the other and you twist, taking in a sharp breath when he gasps and lets the knife clatter to the floor. he lets go of your neck and you drop, grabbing the handle of the knife with a shaky hand and slashing upwards, hoping that it would land somewhere. 

he drops to the floor with a howl of pain, clutching at his thigh, and in the next moment you’re on top of him, pinning him to the floor with a knee to his stomach. the knife is still in your hand, unmoving from how strongly your fingers were grasped around the handle. it would be so easy to plunge it into his chest, so simple. you would finally be free. 

you barely register when several knights finally barge into the hall, swords pointed at the two of you. your focus was purely on the man under you, at the madness swimming in his eyes and the ugly curl of his mouth shaped in scowl. 

“you will not do it. you are weak,” he wheezes out, confident even as he struggles to speak from your weight on him.

you raise the knife. 

a moment of tense silence. 

and felix calls out your name. the only voice that could break you away from the trance you were in. his lovely voice, shaped in your name. 

when you meet his eyes you drop the knife, and you’re pushed away from your father when by knights who move to secure him in shackles. you stand on wobbly feet, taking in the hall - felix, hovering by your side, hands raised as if he wanted to touch you but couldn’t. chris, standing by his father’s side, supporting him as he rises from the floor. blood drips down his side, but not an alarming amount. he would be fine. your own father, cursing angrily at the guards who were keeping him restrained, his words passing through you with no recognition.

you’re sure you looked horrible, in this moment. hair a mess, chest still heaving, clothes torn. you didn’t belong here. you drop your father’s papers that you kept hidden in your clothing to the ground, watching them flutter before settling, face up for all to see.

“i will leave at first light,” is the last thing you say before leaving the king, the princes, and your father behind you.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you didn’t look at your own reflection until the next morning. your face was a horrible painting of blues and blacks, and the bruises on your neck are fading into green, though you’re sure more were forming underneath them. 

you look horrible.

you didn’t come with many things, and most of them were unnecessary for where you were about to go; traveling into the woods didn’t require fancy dresses and jewelry, so as you packed your bag you left them behind. 

the last thing you expected was for felix to push the door to your chambers open, a noisier affair than you were used to from the way the door banged against the wall. 

“you are still here,” he breathes out, panting a bit like he ran here. he eyes the bag you were holding warily.

“i am,” you answer, fear seeping into your veins as he moves closer to you. not of him, never of him, but of the power he held over you. of the way his words could break your heart into more fractures than it already was in. 

“your father is in line for execution, at midday,” he informs, placing a hand on top of yours when he reaches you, his warm skin stinging the ice-cold skin of your own. 

“good,” it’s the only thing you can think to say. the only reaction you can muster from learning that your father was about to die, like you had wished him to.

“chris told me what you asked him to do,” he says, voice low. “i did not stay long enough to hear the whole story, when he told me the other day. i came to you in anger, and i did not listen to you either. i am sorry.”

his voice wobbles in sorrow, and it breaks your heart. 

“no, do not be,” you whisper, flipping your hand around so you could tangle your fingers with his. you wanted to feel him like this, at least one more time. “i should have been honest with you. when i chose to go against him, when i chose you, i should have told you.”

“you were scared,” he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “of him. and of us, i presume. i cannot fault you for that.”

“i was scared, but-” you cut yourself off, trying to find the right words. he waits for you patiently, eyes trained on your features. “since my mother died, my life has not been my own. i have not been allowed to make my own decisions, i don’t know how to…do this. that is no one’s fault but my own.”

“this?” he asks, velvet soft as he seeks for clarification. 

“to be honest about things. to trust people with what’s going on. to…not be scared of people’s reactions,” even this show of candor was sending your heart into a frenzied pace. “i do not know how.”

“then let me teach you,” you can hear the tears in his voice but you don’t look up to meet them. you didn’t think you could handle it. selfish. “please. i do not know what you are planning to do - after, but please do not leave.”

“felix, i have never felt more free than i have here, in this kingdom, with your people. with your family,” you squeeze your fingers around his hand, the only thing you could bring yourself to do. “with you. you have already taught me so much. how do i continue to take and take from you like this?” 

“you do not owe me anything,” he vows, bowing his head a bit. “anything i give to you, i give gladly. i act without thinking and i make rash decisions, too. do not think that i am not learning from you in turn. if it were not for jeongin finding me and explaining things to me yesterday, i would have done something horrid. i could have lost you, do you understand? you and i, we are not so different.”

jeongin. once this was all over, you were going to award that boy a house. or a village. whatever he wanted.

“did he do this to you?” he says when you don’t answer, raising one hand to the bruising around your neck and another to your cheek, feather-light fingertips tracing along the lines. “did he hurt you?”

“yes,” you breathe out, admitting for the first time to someone other than yourself what kind of man your father truly is. letting yourself accept that maybe, it was not your fault. that maybe, you deserved something better. 

you stayed.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

chris meets the two of you outside your chambers hours later, looking more exhausted than you’ve seen him before. he takes in your linked hands with a smile.

“felix told you?” he asks, gentle. you nod, leaning into felix. “i am sorry, that i did not do more. that it came to that.”

“do not apologize,” you say, resolute. “if anyone should be sorry, it is me. for putting you all through this.”

“if anyone needs to apologize, it is your father,” felix swears, his grip on your hand tightening. “if he was not already on his way, i would kill him myself for hurting you.”

you squeeze his hand back, hoping the gesture would bring him some comfort. violence was not a color that you think shaded felix often, but you couldn’t deny that his protectiveness was attractive.

it is chris’ duty to oversee the affair, but you cannot bring yourself to accompany him. the thought of seeing your father again, restrained and awaiting death, was not something that you wished to experience. 

felix stays with you, guiding you through the halls and into his bed, holding you tight the entire time. his presence by your side is overrides the myriad of negative emotions inside of you and for once, your mind is quiet, failing to remind you that you needing felix in this moment was self-serving. it’s as if the thoughts were dying along with your last-living relative.

you wished that you felt happy, relieved to be released from him. or even sorrow, full of grief for your lost father. but you felt nothing.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

chris enters felix’ chambers at dusk, waking you and felix from the sleep that neither of you intended to fall into. 

“my father wishes to see you,” he addresses to you, waiting with leveled patience as the two of you slowly rise from the bed.

“is he angry?” your voice comes out as a whisper, betraying your anxiety.

“yes, but not at you,” he assures, settling a hand on your shoulder, his touch light. “do not worry.”

but you did worry, all throughout the walk to the king’s advisory chambers to when you enter the door, startling him out of whatever hushed conversation he was engaged in with his staff. when he looks at you he is angry, and you’re glad in that moment for christopher’s warning. you moved with more confidence than you truly had, chris and felix’ presence at your sides helping more than you cared to admit. 

“you wanted to see me, sire?” you ask, your hands wringing together. felix takes one of them into his own, if only to stop your movements.

“i wanted to discuss things with you,” stephen waves off his advisors, waiting for them to leave the chambers before continuing. “regarding your father.”

“my father is dead,” you state plainly, moving forward until you were in front of the king. “i swear fealty to you, my lord.”

you slowly knelt at his feet, gasping in surprise when felix knelt by your side. 

“whatever i can do to prove my loyalty, i will do it,” you assured, keeping your head down. normally, you would internally bristle at the thought of kneeling before a king like this, in an act of submission, but this time it was different. this time, it was your choice. 

“you have proven your loyalty by going against your own kin, my child,” his voice was thick with emotion. “please, stand.”

you don’t, until felix does and pulls you along with him. you’re confused at his immediate acceptance of you, the daughter of a man who wished him such ill-will. you look at him and you’re sure he can see the puzzlement on your face.

“i did not ask for you here to make you prove yourself,” he explains, gesturing at the papers strewn about the table. your father’s notes. “i simply wished to thank you, for preventing such heinous acts from occurring. these notes…” he pauses, as if gathering his thoughts. “are unsettling. more were found in his chambers, detailing increasingly vicious flights of fancy.”

you would learn later that in your father’s notes were his plans for you, for once his own were executed. perhaps stephen felt pity for you as a result of what he saw. when you meet eyes with the king, any trace of anger is gone, replaced with a deep kind of sadness.

“thank you, for keeping my family safe at the sake of your own welfare. anything you wish for, i will grant it.” 

your mind screams at you that you don’t deserve it, that you had put them in more harm than anything, that he doesn’t owe you any kindness. 

“i wish for nothing that i do not already have,” you glance at felix, shooting him a small smile when you notice the pride gleaming on his face. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

it takes less of jumping through diplomatic hoops than you would have expected to sign your kingdom over to stephen. the lands were adjacent to one another, so rearranging property lines was as simple as removing a single line from a parchment map. you learned that it was more common than you had originally thought to combine kingdoms, though usually it resulted from acts of war. you were queen for all of two days before officially resigning.

your father, for all his boasting, did not carry many alliances with other nations, and the ones he did have stephen was glad to cut off. your father’s knights did little more than grumble about having to change their colors, and the ones that refused to were promptly dismissed from service.

the castle that was once your home was a different case; you never wished to go back there, other than to gather the things that still held your mother’s touch. that place hasn’t been a home to you in a while, but you decided that it could be a home to someone. 

it would take some time, but you had plans to turn the palace into an orphanage. a place where everyone and anyone could come and seek shelter, food and water, and company. it was the least you could do for your people, who had suffered under your blind eye for over a decade while you sat in your chambers, ignorant to all that was going on outside the palace walls.

the biggest relief was the weight of your kingdom off of your shoulders. maybe it was selfish to think that way, but you had never asked for that life. you knew your people were in better hands with stephen than they ever would have been with your bloodline, and you could think of no better successors than chris and roseanne. 

you had your ladies in waiting brought from your old palace, but they did little more than help you dress. jeongin had become your formal assistant, but you considered him a friend and a confidant more than anything. you had offered him and his family whatever he wanted, now that the riches your father held were in your name, but he had refused. he simply asked for a new house in the lower village for his parents and siblings, but stated that he wished to remain in the castle. 

you and felix decided to hold off on announcing a formal betrothal, deeming it wiser to let the kingdom that had nearly doubled in size settle first. you had not been together long, after all, and most of your time together was spent with you under a guise. you took the time to relearn each other, to memorize every miniscule detail of the other’s personality, your habits and your mannerisms and your preferences. despite your earlier reservations, propriety mattered little with the two of you; you spent even more time together than you did before, and you had all but moved into his chambers, only using yours when you wanted someplace quiet to think. 

you don’t remember a time when you were happier than you were now. for the first time in your life, you looked toward the future with brightness.  

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #lee felix fluff #lee felix imagines #felix x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids hurt/comfort #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix x y/n #lee felix fanfic #felix imagines

[moonlinos]

Invisible string (pt. I)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader / Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: With your terrible history of boyfriends during high school, you swore off love and vowed to get through university without a relationship. Things are great: you’re in your junior year, in an uncomplicated arrangement with a friend with benefits, and living in a nice sharehouse with two amazing roommates. But things begin to change once you meet Lee Minho, a student in your new class who vows to change your perspective on love.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, eventual smut, light angst, pining, jealousy, strangers to friends to lovers, friends with benefits

♡ CW: Swearing, sexual themes and discussions, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: This is a three-part story because I can’t shut up. The second part will be posted sometime next week, and I’ll link it here. I’ve been writing all my life and have written for maaaany fandoms, but being on Tumblr as an active reader of SKZ fics made me want to write for them. So, yeah, guess this is what I’m doing now.

part II →

You are woken up by Hyunjin shifting beside you on the bed. He groans, arm reaching to mess with your already closed curtains. You chuckle.

“You know, the curtains won’t close any more than that.”

“I keep telling you your bed is in a terrible position,” He grumbles as you turn to face him with a smile. “Who thought placing a bed right under a window would be a good idea? Mornings are fucking hell here.”

You shrug. “Well, it’s not my house so I didn’t exactly have a say in that matter.”

“I told you a million times I could help you move it.”

“And I told you a million times Mrs. Choi doesn’t like for us to mess with her furniture,” You explain, turning under the sheets so you could face him before bringing your fingers up to pinch his cheek. Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “Speaking of which, you need to leave. You know her rule: no—”

“No boyfriends spending more than two days at the house,” He interrupted you with an eye roll. “I’m not your boyfriend, though, so that rule shouldn’t apply.” He shrugs.

Hyunjin has been one of your best friends since you first met over two years ago. It was Hyunjin’s first college party and one of the many times your housemates had dragged you along on a night out. His friends had dared him to try and chat you up, arguing it would be hilarious to see him get turned down by an older girl. What they hadn’t expected, however, was for Hyunjin’s clumsy attempt at flirting to be so endearing to you; his pink cheeks and bowl-cut hair made him look like a helpless kid despite his height towering over you. Before you knew it, you had spent the entirety of the party talking to him about everything and anything, only stopping once your housemate Eunha emerged from inside the house to drag you home with her as she desperately tried to dodge a rather insistent guy’s advances. After that day, you and Hyunjin became almost inseparable.

You can’t quite pinpoint when you began hooking up. It was meaningless in the best sense of the word. It was simply something that had happened. All you can remember is that Jisung had recently bleached Hyunjin’s hair after yet another dare from his friend. It had started with cuddles, which turned to kisses, which turned to touches, until you eventually slept together for the first time sometime last year after an excruciatingly stressful exam period. It had never once gotten weird between the two of you; the line was always clear: you were just friends who hooked up due to convenience. Everybody had needs and stress and shit complicating their lives, and fucking your best friend was far more practical and safe than going out to look for a random hook-up whenever you needed it.

You find yourself smiling at Hyunjin once again. His now long black hair fell in his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Yes, you’re not my boyfriend, but how am I supposed to explain what we are to a little old lady?”

“Doesn’t she always say she’s super modern?” Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you with a chuckle. “Maybe she’d like a situationship of her own and you’re depriving her of that by keeping this knowledge to yourself.”

You roll your eyes at his words, attempting to push him off your bed. “Why did you sleep here, anyway?”

Hyunjin sits up on the bed, a pout on his full lips. “I had a shitty date. I was sad and lonely. Glad to know you were paying attention to my story.”

“Hyune,” You sigh, ‘When you tell me said story while fucking me, can I really be blamed for not remembering anything?”

Hyunjin flicks your forehead lightly. “Yes, you can. At this point, it’s like our thing to vent about bad dates during sex,” He argues before getting up from your bed, finding his shirt, which had somehow been thrown over your study desk.

“You mean it’s your thing,” Correcting him, you get up as well, turning to fix up your sheets. “I don’t even go on dates and you know that. The only thing I vent to you about is how awful academic life is.”

Once you turned to face him again, Hyunjin was busy messily tying his hair. His brows promptly furrowed as he took in your words. “Remind me why you literally never leave the house again?”

“Just don’t want to get distracted. Getting my degree is more important than getting a boyfriend.” You lie with a shrug.

Your history with relationships was something you kept secret from everyone you met after high school. You feel embarrassed, as if it was all somehow your fault. After five failed relationships where you had been the one to be broken up with or cheated on, you began to accept that maybe the problem really was you. Maybe something about you makes men want to yell at and cheat on you. Perhaps you are just bound to be a distraction until they find someone better.

Which is why you don’t date.

Would anyone go through the hassle of reading a long, tedious book if they already knew about the bad ending?

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your answer, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your degree isn’t going to keep you company when you’re eighty and alone.”

“Well, my degree isn’t going to wake up one day and suddenly decide to leave me either,” you refute, earning an annoyed groan from your friend as you walk past him to leave your room.

“You literally never have fun, though. All you do is go to class, work, and study. You should at least pick up a new hobby,” Hyunjin insists as he follows you, walking into the kitchen-living room area. “Go out more, stop avoiding college parties like the plague before it’s too late to experience the joys of watching your friend throw up on some random person’s couch.”

You make a face at the offers, grabbing your mug from the cupboard. “Why would I want to see that? Besides, I have hobbies.”

“I meant a social hobby. Sitting in your room watching fucking iceberg videos isn’t sociable,” He explains, and you let out an aggrieved gasp. Your iceberg videos were educational and entertaining, thank you very much. Behind you, your housemate’s bedroom door opens, and you turn to watch as she stumbles out of her room, looking half-awake. “Soojung, don’t you think she should get a new hobby?” Hyunjin addresses the blonde girl, who stares daggers at him.

“If I say yes, will you two stop speaking so loud?”

Hyunjin slams one hand on the kitchen counter, his other pointing a finger at you. “See, she said yes. You’re outnumbered, now you have to stop spending all your free time holed up inside your room.”

Soojung groans, stepping into the kitchen and shoving Hyunjin to the side. “He’s annoying, but he is kind of right,” she mumbles.

Truthfully, you did feel bad about having essentially wasted three years at university by actively avoiding parties and invitations any chance you got. The only parties you did attend, however, only served as an irritating reminder as to why you shouldn’t put yourself in those situations. Parties and bars only meant desperate college boys. Desperate for sex, for attention, for a potential relationship. For someone’s heart to break. You had met Hyunjin at a party, for fuck’s sake. Who knows just how south things between you two could’ve gone if he had become interested in you romantically?

But, as much as you hate to admit it, Hyunjin is right. Your life is essentially an endless loop of studying and working. You only socialize when your roommates are home, when your few friends come over, and when you and Hyunjin hook up. But you aren’t ready to step out of your comfortable bubble of avoidance, so you settle for the best thing you can think of.

As Hyunjin rummages through your fridge like he lived there and Soojung stirs her coffee blankly, you loudly set your mug down on the counter. “An elective course,” you announce.

The both of them turn to face you with the same puzzled expression.

“The fuck?” Hyunjin questions, and you roll your eyes.

“I’ll take an elective,” you explain matter-of-factly, “The university offers a lot of great courses in things I’m actually interested in. It’ll be a way for me to get out of the house without having to watch a friend of mine puke on a couch or whatever atrocity it is that you said.”

Hyunjin slams the fridge door closed, earning a scolding scream from Soojung, and walks over to where you’re standing. He pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “You’re such a fucking nerd, what the fuck, but I’m so glad your hermit life is coming to an end.”

The elective course you choose is Japanese. It’s a language you’ve always been interested in learning, and while you know the class is merely introductory, you figure it will be fun to learn some phrases and expressions. You might even find yourself wanting to learn more in the future, and you’ll undoubtedly be glad you took this class during university.

Even if that means having to endure Hyunjin calling you a weeb.

You are able to begin attending classes a week after signing up; the lessons lining up with your work schedule to a T. The professor explained that, since you had joined the course late, you would likely need some guidance with phrases and words the class had already been taught. You didn’t mind, actually feeling excited in the morning despite your boring routine classes since you knew you would be doing something new you enjoyed in the afternoon instead of simply killing time around your house until it was time for you to work.

You walk into your first class ten minutes late, mentally cursing Eunha for being so good at telling stories about her weirdly entertaining life that it made it physically difficult for you to drag yourself away from her. You mouth a brief apology to your professor before scanning the room and scurrying over to the only available seat. 

You sit down in haste so as to not disrupt the class any further, swinging your bag over your chair and accidentally knocking over your seatmate’s water bottle all over his side of the desk. Luckily, the bottle lands on the soft surface of his notebook, barely making any noise. Unluckily, said bottle had been filled with coffee, staining his notes a faded brown color. You silently gasp, instinctively reaching out your hands to fruitlessly try and dry the pages that are now sticking to each other.

“I am so sorry, what the fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you continue to inspect his notebook frantically. “I’ll buy you a new notebook and another cup of coffee as soon as class ends, I promise,” You whisper to him, your eyes boring holes into the stained pages as you watch the bitter liquid slowly dissolve some of the black ink. At this point, you’re rambling out of nervousness, but you can’t seem to stop, adding, “Hell, I’m so angry at myself for what I did I’d bind you a new notebook and brew you some fresh coffee myself.”

You mentally berate yourself for your word vomit. It was just your luck that you would make someone hate your guts on the first day you attended a class.

After what feels like minutes of silence from him, you are prepared for the imminent burst of rage bound to come your way, the guy’s wrath more than likely stirring inside him as he sits beside you and watches as you foolishly shake the piece of paper, hoping it will miraculously return to its untainted state.

However, what you aren’t prepared for is the small burst of laughter that leaves your seatmate’s lips; it’s quiet, but you’re close enough to him to be able to hear it.

You furrow your brows, finally mustering the courage to look up at him for the first time.

“Did you…” You trail off. You feel a strange sensation inside your chest as your eyes meet his. It was something you had never felt before, a small burst of a fluttering that briskly washed over you before disappearing just as quickly. Like a pinwheel was placed inside of you and a strong wind had suddenly started blowing. You shake your head, returning to the matter at hand. You are probably just experiencing some anxiety due to what has happened, you argue mentally. “Did you just laugh at me?”

As you finally take him in properly, the guy before you looks as dazed as you felt just now, courtesy of your minor panic attack; his lips agape and his round eyes blinking while his dark pupils are fixed on you. You two remain that way for a few seconds in an impromptu staring contest that causes the peculiar feeling to bloom inside your chest once again.

When he finally speaks, his voice is soft. “You… offered to bind a notebook for a stranger,” His lips twitch into a grin. “It was a little funny.”

You open your mouth but promptly close it, unable to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make you appear like more of an idiot than you already do. You sigh. “Sorry,” you mumble, your voice low as well. “I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I’m—”

“You two, on the back,” your professor calls out in a louder voice, however still keeping her calm demeanor. You and your seatmate turn to look at her. “I’m going to teach a few new phrases useful for traveling now. How about you two talk after class? This is actually quite perfect. Minho is one of my best students, so he could help you catch up to where we are.” She offers the two of you a small smile, and you feel your cheeks burn.

This class wasn’t mandatory, and you didn’t need it to get your degree. It is still a class, nonetheless. Ever since high school, you’ve always hated people who disrespect their professors by brazenly talking or sleeping during class.

“I’m sorry, professor,” You muttered. Beside you, your seatmate — Minho, as he was just called — scoots closer to you and whispers something you don’t understand under his breath. You look at him, confused. He chuckles, and you feel his breath on your cheek. It makes the odd fluttering return.

“Gomenasai,” He repeats more clearly, his voice louder, “It’s ‘I’m sorry’ in Japanese.” He offers you a smile, and you soak in just how good-looking he is. Ever since you first raised your head to look at him — when the pinwheel inside your chest rapidly spun and unexplainedly made you feel nervous — you knew he was a handsome guy, but his soft smile and calm eyes made him look even more annoyingly pretty.

Before you’re able to do it yourself, your professor speaks again and pulls you out of your trance.

“In this case, Sumimasen would be a bit more appropriate,” she corrects Minho, who clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath. The woman chuckles at his reaction. “It’s okay. This is also something you can explain to Y/N after class.”

As the class went on, you couldn’t help but notice how Minho didn’t take any notes. Your mind latched onto how you ruined his notebook and how it was your fault that he couldn’t properly study during today’s class, so you couldn’t find the courage to offer him some paper so he could take notes.

After almost an hour of unrelenting guilt swallowing you up slowly, you place your hand on Minho’s shoulder as soon as the professor announces class is over after assigning the students a small written assignment.

“We could talk outside? If you want,” you offer him, feeling the now-familiar nervousness come back, making your mouth speak faster than your brain can even think to rationalize, “There’s a bench I really like outside this building. It’s a good spot. There’s a nice shade, and it’s secluded enough that people don’t bother me when I’m studying. Or googling how to bind a notebook.”

Minho lets out a brief chuckle. “Okay. I would love to talk on your favorite bench.”

You blink at him. “I don’t have a favorite bench.”

“Hm, it sure sounded like it. You listed some good attributes of that bench,” He argues, a grin etched onto his lips.

“I told you I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He raises an eyebrow at your words. “You’re nervous?”

“Of course I am. I never bound a notebook before.”

Minho lets out a hearty laugh this time, his head thrown back and his eyes turning into crescent moons before he shakes his head. He picks his notebook off the table, showing you the crinkly light brown-tinted pages. “It’s dry now. I actually kind of like it, gave the pages a sort of vintage vibe. You don’t have to bind me a new notebook,” He reassures you, placing the small book into his bag. “As much as I would love to see how that would turn out.”

And just like that, your nervousness fades away. You smile at Minho, asking that he follow you over to your favorite bench.

The two of you talked for almost two hours. During that time, Minho helped you catch up with the vocabulary and phrases you had missed in class. When you asked him how he was able to know so much off the top of his head, his lips curled into a crooked grin as he sheepishly told you that he had been taking Japanese lessons since he was in high school. He explained that because he procrastinated signing up for an elective course, the advanced class was full by the time he got to it, so he decided to go for the introductory one instead. You chuckled and questioned why he would choose to spend his time on a course when he already knew everything being taught. He shrugged and explained that it was nice to have at least one class in which he didn’t have to try and that the fact that it made him feel smart also helped.

Not even your shift at work was able to make your conversation stop flowing, as Minho offered to walk with you to the coffee shop upon realizing it was near his apartment.

That was one of the many coincidences and things in common you found to have with each other that day.

It started with ordinary things like the fact that Minho had three cats back home just like you and how he had been collecting plushies since he was a child, while you had started your own collection as soon as you had access to money of your own. Or how your favorite authors were Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë — Minho swore you would die if you saw the special edition books he had back at home.

Then, it became a bit more amusing as you found out that Minho had worked at a convenience store chain when he first finished high school, and it was the same one you worked at for your first job after starting university. And you both had worked there for exactly a year and two months before quitting. You then told him about how you ended up attending this university after your top three choices turned you down, and his choices were the same as yours. And just like you, he also got rejected by his top three options, which led him to attend the same university as you.

You two couldn’t hide your bewilderment, eyes widening and lips bursting into laughter as these linked facts kept spilling out during your conversation. It was strange, you thought, but in a comforting way. It was almost as if you two had been living weirdly similar lives, all while having no clue about the other’s existence.

The two of you approach the small coffee shop while talking about your degrees. You try your best not to bore Minho with your ‘existential crisis-inducing psychology talks,’ as Hyunjin always put it, and you mostly listen to him as he talks about programming. He tells you that his dream is to develop cozy games that people can jump into without much thought, simply to relax. He says he knows how stressful life is and that people sometimes need something they can mindlessly do to get their minds off of shit. You resonate with it more than you care to admit, as cozy idle games are one of your favorite things to do while locked inside your room.

“So I do these freelancing gigs to make money but I’m actually set to start my first quote-unquote real job in two weeks,” he beams as you two stop in front of the coffee shop. Minho’s eyes lit up the moment he started speaking about his degree, and although you didn’t understand most of the terms he used, it is always endearing to watch someone talk about something they’re so passionate about. “There’s this guy who’s graduating soon who recruited me and a friend for a project he’s working on, so it’s not technically a job and we’ll work in his living room. I’ll still get some money and the chance to actually develop something, though, so it’s better than nothing.”

You smile at him. “If you like programming as much as your words led me to believe, I’m sure it won’t even feel like a job.”

Minho’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he scratched his head. “Sorry, I talked your ear off about shit you don’t even understand.”

“I think everybody likes to hear people talk about things they like,” you assure him, “It was a good talk. I still can’t believe we have so many things in common. It was kind of funny how they kept coming up.”

Minho chuckles, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Guess the universe is giving us signs that we should be friends.”

“It seems like it.”

That day, you work with a persistent smile engraved on your lips. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good about meeting someone new. Despite your awkward first encounter, you found that talking to Minho was as easy as talking to an old childhood friend. It felt refreshing. The last friend you made was Hyunjin — whom you were so grateful to now for pushing you out of your comfort zone — and after that, you had unknowingly closed yourself off.

Minho had managed to open up your mind to the idea of letting someone in almost comically fast. And you loved that.

It’s been a month since you’ve been attending Japanese classes, and your studying sessions with Minho — which always turned into long conversations on what now had really become your favorite bench — were a weekly appointment, much like having him walk with you to work twice a week.

Today, however, Minho stopped you with a hand on your shoulder as you made your way toward your usual spot. When he asked you if you would like to study at his favorite bakery today instead, his eyes rapidly blinking as he looked at you through his bangs which had grown to slightly cover his eyes since you met him, you just couldn’t say no. He stammered as he promised that the place was even closer than the one where you worked, so you wouldn’t be late for your shift.

You smiled at his apparent nervousness, finding it endearing. You knew all too well how stressed you felt when offering something new or initiating plans with a new friend, and Minho seemed to be the same.

“Good thing you made this offer today, on my day off,” you bumped shoulders with him. “It’s almost like you knew.”

You begin walking, and Minho gently pushes you to the side so that he’s the one walking on the edge of the side of the sidewalk. You shoot him a questioning look, and he blinks at you again.

“Sorry, force of habit,” he chuckles, “My mom taught me a guy shouldn’t let a girl walk on the street side. I know it’s old-fashioned and probably made me seem like an ancient guy who wouldn’t let his wife work or something. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s kind of sweet. I never had anyone do that with me.”

You feel the pinwheel twirl inside your chest again.

The two of you approach a familiar building together. You furrow your eyebrows as you take in the floral curtains on the windows and the pretty font adorning the store sign of your favorite bakery. You think about how it would be nice if you two came here on another day. Maybe you could use that opportunity to finally introduce Minho to your other friends.

You only realize Minho has stopped walking when he calls out your name. When you turn around, he’s standing in front of the bakery with a smile.

“This is the place.” He points toward the white door with a nod as you return to where he’s standing.

No fucking way.

“This is your favorite bakery?” You ask, although it is a stupid question. Minho nods. You play with the strap of your bag. “Okay, this is starting to sound ridiculous, but I swear I’m not lying. This is my favorite bakery, too.”

Minho’s eyes widen at your words, and his lips curl into a smile again. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I will not,” You chuckle.

Minho opens the door and the two of you walk inside, the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods bringing back great memories you made in this place. You often come here with your two roommates; it’s close enough to both your house and university that you can skip out on taking the bus, the atmosphere is always relaxing and comforting, not to mention the delicious cakes they sell. You smile to yourself as you remember Eunha scuffing down far too many slices of their chocolate cake after a nasty breakup a couple of months ago, tears streaming down her face so violently that the poor little old man who owns the shop appeared to check up on her.

“Their lemon cake is my favorite.”

“The lemon cake is what made me—”

You and Minho speak concurrently, with you unable to even finish your sentence before you both freeze for a couple of seconds in front of the only small table available at the crowded shop.

He’s the first one to move, pulling out his chair a bit awkwardly. “We should…” He trails off before clearing his throat as you sit down before him. “Should really make a written list of things we weirdly have in common.”

“At this point, I think it’d be easier if we made one of what we don’t have in common.”

You two settle for the obvious choice of two pieces of lemon cake with a cup of coffee for him and a glass of cola for you. Minho almost looked offended when you informed him that you hate coffee, wondering out loud why you even worked at a coffee shop before ensuring he could change your mind with just the five amazing facts about coffee he thought about off the top of his head. You shrugged him off with a grin. You couldn’t deny the irony of being a barista and having to make endless cups of a drink you despised daily, but you were sure Minho could never change your mind about coffee.

You two talked about your improvement in Japanese in the last month until the waiter returned with your order. Minho insists you’re a natural and could be on his level in a couple of years if you tried, but you roll your eyes at his compliments. You’ve never been naturally good at anything. That wasn’t about to change now.

“You know,” Minho begins once the waiter steps away from your table, looking around the coffee shop. People slowly started to leave as it got later in the day; the place was now much quieter, and the atmosphere even more cozy. “I used to think I would meet somebody in a place like this.”

“Like, in a romantic sense?”

Minho hums, still looking out to his side. You notice his side profile is really pretty, and you have to hide your smile by sipping your drink.

When he returns his gaze to you, he’s the one smiling. “Yes, in a romantic sense. Like being destined to meet someone.”

“Look at you, a hopeless romantic,” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. You never thought of Minho as someone like that. He seemed rather methodical, always following a routine and too engrossed in his codes to be preoccupied with something like love.

Minho furrowed his brows. “Why the eye roll?”

“I just don’t believe in that stuff,” you shrug with a small smile, “Stuff like destiny, soulmates, love…” You trail off, taking your spoon and poking the slice of cake in front of you. “Love has the awful tendency of being bad.”

Of course, you once believed all those things. Doesn’t everybody? But love has shown you time and time again that those are things reserved only for some people. And, clearly, you are not one of them. So why believe in it?

“It’s the most amazing thing in life,” Minho’s voice almost startled you as you were so deeply entranced in your thoughts.

You don’t lift your head to answer him, instead drawing mindless shapes on the icing on top of your cake.

“What is?”

“Love,” He replies in a soft voice. When you finally look at him, you’re surprised to find Minho’s deep eyes already looking at you, a small smile adorning his lips. “Love is the most amazing thing in life.”

You freeze.

You tear your eyes away from him, gaze focusing on the plate in front of you again.

You were careful with your rules. No parties, no bars, no talking to your male co-workers unless absolutely necessary, and no male friends unless they were in a relationship or proved beyond a reasonable doubt to only be interested in you platonically — which was what Minho was. So, why did him bringing up love make you feel so nervous?

Under the table, you unwittingly bounce your leg. This was stupid. Minho has been your friend for a month now; you see each other twice a week, and you talk for hours, always so comfortable around each other in a way that is still so new to you. He has never flirted with you or treated you in any way that led you to believe that he wanted anything more than to be your friend. You will not let your foolish trauma ruin what was proving to be an amazing friendship. He was simply sharing his thoughts on a topic. That’s all love was: a conversation topic.

You force out a chuckle as you snap yourself out of your senseless panic and look up at Minho once more. “We can just agree to disagree?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, something you can’t quite pinpoint swimming in his deep eyes as he looks at you. Instead of breaking the silence, he scoops up a piece of cake with his spoon and raises it like a glass. You shake your head with a giggle as you realize what he’s doing, toasting your spoons together at the center of the table before you both eat your spoonfuls of cake.

“You know,” He speaks as soon as he’s done eating, his eyes having never left yours. “Love can never be bad. I don’t think so, at least. It never makes anything worse. It can only ever make things better.”

You hum and shift in your seat, lowering your gaze toward the table. The truth is, you hate talking about love. That — coupled with your shame regarding your past relationships — is the reason why you never indulge in this type of conversation, even with your own mother. But years of swallowing down your thoughts and opinions whenever the subject was brought up only caused a buildup of emotions in your throat. So much so that you only realized you were talking once you were midway through a sentence.

“Love can make so many things worse,” you affirmed, your eyes following the polka-dot pattern on the tablecloth, “Losing someone is bad enough, but put love into that equation, and it just worsens tenfold.”

Minho nods. “By that logic, you can say that having someone by your side is always good, but if it’s someone you love, it makes it better tenfold, right?”

You let out a chuckle as you realize you two could go back and forth about that subject for ages.

But it felt good to finally speak out your feelings on the matter, so you continue, “Love can’t be that great if people can so easily fall out of it and for so many different but equally stupid reasons. You’re suddenly not attractive to them anymore, or you have different opinions, or they love picking fights but hate it when it’s the other way around…” You trail off, swallowing down a lump in your throat as you speak out of experience. But Minho didn’t need to know that. You lift your eyes. “Not to mention falling in love with a new person all while supposedly already being in love with someone.”

“That’s not genuine love,” Minho shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, as if it was his first time hearing of such things happening. “Real love is unconditional and understanding. Real love makes the person you love beautiful simply because they’re them. Real love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself as well.” His expression softens, and his eyes lock onto yours. “And real love makes it so that you can only see the one you love. You can’t possibly fall in love with someone else if you’re truly already in love.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, nodding slowly. You hate the fact that part of you is desperate to believe that what Minho said was true. And you hate it even more that an even bigger part has already dismissed every single word that left his lips.

Desperate to shift the subject from Reasons Why My Exes Left Me — which only leaves you feeling sad and pathetic — back to Love Is Amazing, you decide to try and lighten the mood.

“Okay, but then explain to me how love is so great when you can just have sex with anyone, and it feels the same either way?” You question him with a teasing grin on your face. Minho shakes his head with a smile and eats another bite of his cake. You continue, “Be it a stranger at a party you met ten minutes ago or the love of your life, sex will always be sex. Therefore, you’re wrong, mister Love-Makes-Everything-Better.”

Minho chuckles around his mug, eyes closing as he almost spits out his coffee. His eyes are like crescent moons when he looks at you again, clearly amused by your words. “Well, yeah, of course, sex will always feel good no matter who you’re doing it with. It’s sex, and sex feels good,” He shrugs dismissively. “But sex with love is different. You aren’t just fucking, just fulfilling your own desires selfishly. Love makes sex better because you feel good simply by making the person who’s so important to you feel good. It makes you want to melt into the other person and become one with them because close isn’t close enough when you’re in love.

“Touching them feels like a gift, like heaven. Tasting them feels like heaven. Hearing their voice in their most blissful state feels like heaven. The trust and connection you feel in that moment is heaven, and that’s only possible through love. You can have sex with anyone, but you can only make love to someone you love, and those are two different things. That’s how love makes sex better. Therefore, I’m not wrong.”

As you take in Minho’s words, spoken so casually, like it was common knowledge, they leave you speechless. You watch him as he smiles triumphantly when he realizes you aren’t going to refute him — because you can’t refute him.

You berate yourself mentally as you notice the familiar feeling of arousal wash over you as you repeat his words inside your head. Not because it was Minho who said those things, but simply because that kind of sex sounded so good. Good in a way you had never once experienced before. Like heaven, as he had put it.

Your experience with sex has always been simply about fulfilling desires. You thought that was all there was to it.

Until now.

And even so, with your ex-boyfriends, it was always unbalanced. Ninety percent about their pleasure and only ten percent about yours. The first time you had a guy go down on you was the first time you had sex with Hyunjin, and by that point, you had already had five boyfriends. It felt weird when it happened, and you remember Hyunjin whining about how you didn’t have to ask him every five minutes if he was really okay with doing that. It had always been different with him, the good kind of different. He had never been selfish during sex; if anything, Hyunjin was too much of a giver, sometimes forgetting about his own pleasure in order to focus on yours. You thought that was the best sex you could ever have.

Until now.

Because, even with Hyunjin, there was never a genuine connection. It never felt like a gift to touch him and have him touch you. It was never anything more than sex, more than something you both did because it felt good and it was easy. He slept in your bed, and he cuddled you until morning came, but it had never once felt anything close to what Minho described.

You can’t help but wonder if Minho has ever experienced that. You desperately want to ask him, but you two aren’t close enough for that yet.

You also can’t help but wonder why you spend the rest of the evening raging a war against yourself as your mind is consumed with thoughts of what it would be like to experience that kind of sex with him.

It’s late in the night on the following Saturday, and your phone incessantly vibrating under your pillow rudely demands your attention just as you’re about to fall asleep. You squint your eyes as you type in your password. You sigh as you see Hyunjin’s name on your screen because of course it’s him.

Hyune: I’m outside open the door Hyune: please open the door? quick? Hyune: mrs. choi is gonna kill me if I use the intercom pls I don’t wanna die Hyune: I’m in my pajamas do you know how humiliating this is

Hyune: and I’m highkey pissed off Hyune: I WILL sleep on the bench outside your house if you don’t let me in and then I’ll die and who’s gonna live with the guilt? Hyune: you Hyune: OPENM TEH DOOR

You roll your eyes at his dramatic texts, stepping out of the comfort of your bed and padding across the floor as quietly as possible so as not to wake up your roommates. You open your front door and speed past the hallway and Mrs. Choi’s home, reaching the outside door in record time. It’s something you’ve done more times than you care to admit in order to let Hyunjin into your house. Your tenant was a sweet woman, insistent that she was modern and understanding of ‘young people’, but she despised people coming into your home any later than midnight.

You step outside, finding Hyunjin pacing back and forth like a creep in front of your house. True to his words, he stood in his checkered pajama pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was in a ponytail, the strands messily sticking out everywhere like he had tossed and turned in bed before coming here.

“You look like shit,” you speak up, causing him to jump and let out a gasp. You chuckle as he scowls at you, climbing the few steps to reach the door.

“I had a fight with Mingyu,” he grumbles as you two walk toward your front door. “He told me I spilled paint on his favorite shirt, which is fucking impossible since I don’t even paint anywhere near his shit.” 

“I mean, you are a messy painter.”

Hyunjin shoots you a look as you close your front door behind you. You take off your shoes and walk toward your bedroom in silence. This was routine. Hyunjin knew the rules: no knocking on the outside door, no buzzing the intercom, no shouting from outside, keep your voice down in the hallway, no talking until you reach your bedroom. It was all automatic at this point.

His voice is louder when he speaks again inside your locked bedroom. “First of all, I am not a messy painter. The paint is messy, not me. Second of all, if Mingyu wasn’t a fucking idiot, maybe he wouldn’t leave his favorite shirt on the floor of the living room right by my art corner,” Hyunjin huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, “If that’s how he treats his favorite shirt, I feel bad for his girlfriend.”

You let out a chuckle, which is cut short by him pulling you into his arms. “Hyunjin, that analogy makes no sense.”

“Yes, it does. You treat your favorite shirt like shit, you treat your girlfriend like shit,” he states matter-of-factly before pulling you into a kiss.

This was routine. It was all automatic at this point.

Hyunjin kisses you like he’s angry. Because he is, and that’s one of the reasons why you two do this. You let out your frustrations during sex. You complain, and you let off steam until you both feel okay again. It’s been this way for a year and some months now, and you never once thought anything of it. It was beneficial for you both, so why change or question it?

But that was before your talk with Minho. Before you were awoken to the truth that you’d been having meaningless sex your whole life.

When you’re pulled away from your thoughts, you’re already laid in your bed with Hyunjin hovering over you. His lips and hands wander through your body as he mumbles things you can’t quite understand; you can only make out your name and Mingyu’s mixed with curses. You try to bring yourself back to the moment, bringing your legs to wrap around Hyunjin’s waist and bring him closer to you.

He stops kissing your neck and yanks his shirt over his head, his hair untying in the process and falling on his face like a curtain. You giggle and try to fix it with your fingers. Hyunjin pouts.

“Don’t you think I’m right?”

You frown and hope he can’t see your confused expression in the dim lighting. You truly weren’t paying any attention to what he had been saying, too engrossed in your thoughts and too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Hyunjin’s tendency to tell you about his frustrations during sex always left you a bit puzzled, but it was also oddly sweet. It was like he trusted you so deeply as a friend that he believed he could share anything with you, no matter the time.

So you nod, lightly pulling at his hair. “Of course you’re right.”

He hums and buries his head on your chest, grinding his hips into your clothed core. “Of course I’m right,” he mumbles under his breath.

Everything is a blur after that, your mind insistent on repeating Minho’s words like an annoying echo. When Hyunjin’s tongue fucked you hastily, and he murmured something about you tasting so good, all you could hear was Minho’s voice telling you how tasting the person you love feels like heaven. When Hyunjin pushed his cock into you, his hands gripping your thighs and head buried in your neck, all you could think about was how this sex paled in comparison to what you could’ve been having — what you could have already had — if only you weren’t so damn unlovable. 

You knew that Minho didn’t intend to make you feel bad with his words. They weren’t targeted at you. But that didn’t stop your mind from sabotaging and putting yourself down. It was one of your biggest talents, after all.

Your body was present and responsive the entire time; you moaned because it felt good, and you kissed Hyunjin because you wanted to. But you were mentally somewhere else.

And the worst thing is, you’re a hundred percent sure Hyunjin doesn’t even notice it.

Because this wasn’t love. This was only sex.

And this was all you had ever known.

Time flies by faster than your brain can comprehend; before you know it, another month goes by. You only managed to go to your favorite bakery with Minho one more time before your work hours were changed, your shift now starting a mere thirty minutes after your Japanese class ends. He still walked you to work twice a week, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t upset you to have to let go of your weekly talks.

Minho also became busier due to his own job. With so little time to see each other face to face outside of class, most of your talks took place over text. He talked about his job with so much adoration it made you a little jealous; his partners were now simply friends he worked with, and his joy over finally being able to create a cozy game made it so that he pushed himself over his limit, often sleeping on his friend’s couch after working until four a.m. and getting through the next day on excessive amounts of coffee.

That was how you two came up with the idea of Minho dropping by the café where you work to pick up coffee for him and his friends. He would drop by at least twice every day, his friend’s house — which also served as their office — only one bus stop away.

The first time Minho came by, he had his wallet and phone in one hand, a sharpie and a block of sticky notes in the other. You eyed him curiously as he scribbled on the piece of paper while your co-worker prepared his coffee. When he was done, he stuck the note to the monitor in front of you on the counter. You furrowed your brows as your eyes shifted from the Japanese words on the bright yellow note back to Minho’s smug face. You were certainly grateful he at least had the courtesy of including the romanization of whatever he had written down. Not that it helped you in any way.

“Since our studying sessions after class were rudely taken from us, this is your extra homework. It’s all words we already learned. You just gotta think a little bit, and you’ll figure it out. You’re smart, I know you can do it,” He assured you.

Expect you weren’t that smart and ended up giving up by the time you got home that night. The piece of paper was no longer sticky on the border due to you carrying it around all day, boring holes into it as if that would magically give you the answer. You snapped a picture of it as you got ready for bed and sent it to Minho, begging him to put you out of your misery and simply give you the answer. ‘I want to drink coffee,’ he replied. You slapped your hand over your forehead with so much force you were sure the entire house had heard you. He was right; you did learn that in class. Curse the Japanese language for being so difficult.

After that, it became a routine. You waited expectantly for Minho’s visits daily, but you are extra excited today. It’s a Friday, and your birthday is tomorrow. After much pestering from Eunha, you agreed to have a small gathering at your house. It only made sense to invite Minho; he’s become one of your closest friends in the two months you’ve known him, after all.

As he walks into the coffee shop, sticky notes and sharpie in hand, you chuckle to yourself. You two chat about the development of his game, with Minho kindly using layman’s terms when explaining it to you. He also tells you about how one of his friends got so frustrated with a code that he threw his phone at a wall before immediately regretting it and crying on the floor next to Minho’s desk. Before you can get worried, he assures you that it’s just an ordinary day at the office, and the three of them end up laughing everything off at the end of the day.

After taking his order, you watch as he begins writing down your homework for the day on the small piece of paper in his hand. As you look around the coffee shop, most tables are empty, and the sun is starting to set outside the glass doors.

“You wanna come over this Saturday?” You ask Minho, who looks up at you before adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. That was one thing you learned about Minho since he began coming over: he wears glasses. Not every day, but enough times for you to notice how good he looks with them. But friends find each other attractive all the time, you justify it. “You never came over to my house, and my roommates really want to meet you. Plus, it’s my birthday tomorrow.”

Minho’s eyes widen. “Your birthday? And you save that information to the end?”

“It’s not a big deal. I usually never even celebrate.” You shrug lightly. You’ve never been big on birthdays, as you just don’t see the reason why it’s supposed to feel different from any other day of the year. “But my roommate pestered me to do something this year, so I agreed to have a party.”

Minho shifts on his feet. “I… really hate parties…” He trails off.

“It’s not a party party. I promise!” You hold up your pinky finger. “It’s more of a get-together, just my roommates and my only two other friends. And, you…” You trail off, “If you come.”

Minho blinks his eyes a couple of times before tearing the piece of paper he was writing on from the pad and crumpling it in his hand. He quickly jots down something new and sticks it to your forehead.

“Minho!” You scold him, to which he laughs, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. You advert your gaze from him as your persistent thoughts regarding how unfairly pretty Minho is begin to flood your brain once again. You take the note and analyze it:

はい (Hai)

You smile as you understand the word, looking up at him.

“I’d love to come to your birthday party,” He beams. “Thank you for inviting me.”

To say Minho is nervous would be an understatement.

He gets out of his car twice, ready to march back inside his friend’s apartment like a coward and pretend that nothing happened both times. Only when he thinks back to how you smiled at him when he agreed to your invitation does he find the courage to start the car and drive to your house. He’d noticed for a while now how much he likes you. But it was when he agreed with the idea of going to the café you worked at to pick up coffee that it truly dawned on him that he really liked you. Minho hated taking the bus, he hated doing anything other than zoning out on the couch during his breaks, he hated bustling shops, and he hated how his co-workers both managed to have such intricate coffee orders.

Yet he agreed to that idea, even suggesting he drop by two times a day.

He noticed he’d felt a familiar small whirlpool inside his chest whenever he was with you, when he heard you talk about something you liked or saw you smile. He’s also noticed that this tiny whirlpool has been growing bigger and bigger the more he’s been around you.

But that doesn’t scare him. Minho loves love. He loves to be in love, to love someone, and to make that person feel loved. It’s his favorite thing about life. If he was honest, he missed it so much he didn’t know how he was able to live without it.

Just down the block from your house, he parks his car and gathers his phone and his present for you — clearly clumsily wrapped, even with his co-workers’ help. He feels another wave of nervousness wash over him as he approaches the house; he’s an hour late and needs to mentally prepare to socialize with people he’s never met before. Minho chuckles as he realizes a silly party makes him more nervous than the prospect of possibly falling in love.

You open the door almost as soon as he rings the intercom, and he walks down the hallway into your house door; the crooked box he’s been holding makes his hands sweat. The first thing he notices as you open the door is your styled hair with a big white bow on the back, looking much prettier than the ugly bow he and his friends managed to stick on top of his present. He smiles at the sight and scratches his ear in a futile attempt to stop them from turning red.

God, he really liked you, didn’t he?

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him with a smile. Minho notices the quiet music playing inside the house, the simple decorations, and the cake on top of the kitchen counter. He mentally sighs in relief. This truly wasn’t anything like a big party. “You’re wearing your glasses again,” you point out as Minho walks inside and removes his shoes. He subconsciously reaches his left hand to touch his wire-rimmed glasses that sit on his nose bridge. He grimaces and curses at his friend for making him stay later than he was supposed to today.

“I had no time to go home and change,” He apologizes, fingers now toying with the stupid bow on top of the box. “I usually wear contacts, but they make my eyes dry if I stare at the computer for too long, so I just… wear my glasses at work…” Minho trails off, suddenly feeling stupid, his eyes looking anywhere but toward you.

You chuckle, lightly touching his glasses for a second before moving away again. “You always come to the coffee shop wearing them, and I think you look really good,” you assured him. His eyes quickly met yours, only for you to advert your gaze this time. “You should wear them more often.”

Minho only hums, lightly nodding his head. He feels stupid all over again as the image of himself throwing his contact lenses down the drain crosses his mind.

Clearing his throat, he finally hands you your gift. You giggle at the mismatched wrapping paper and poor excuse of a bow, which makes Minho let out a chuckle and murmur an apology. You open the box, and your eyes light up when you spot the stuffed bunny you have been raving about since you two met. It was the only animal missing from your collection, but you couldn’t find the right time to save up money to buy it. Minho didn’t need to ask if you liked it as he watched your smile grow bigger as you looked at the brown bunny.

“Come, I gotta put him in my bed now,” you beamed and took Minho’s hand in yours, leading him to the living room. There, five people sat on the couch and on the floor. Minho furrows his brows as he takes in a head of light brown hair covered by a familiar beanie. “These are my friends. Eunha’s the girl with short hair on the floor, and Soojung’s the one with blonde hair next to her. They’re also my roommates,” You point at them as you speak. “That’s Jisung sitting next to Soojung; he’s also her boyfriend. And then Hyunjin, with the long hair, sitting next to Chan on the couch. Everyone, this is Minho from my Japanese class.”

With that, you pad off to your room with your bunny in tow. As Chan finally turns to look at Minho, his shocked expression mirrors his. They stare at each other for a while before Chan finally breaks the silence.

“What the fuck, that’s my co-worker.”

Minho narrows his eyes. “So this is why you had to leave an hour earlier today?”

As you come out of your room, you chuckle. “Chan is your co-worker?” You ask Minho, “I can’t believe this. He’s been our friend for longer than I’ve known you. He came like a package deal when Jisung began dating Soojung.”

“Damn, dude, you hate me so much you never talked about me to your friend?” Chan gasped, a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.”

Minho rolls his eyes but is unable to stop a small grin from forming on his lips as the entire living room erupts in laughter. “Of course I talked about you. I talked about you and Seungmin all the time. It’s just I…” Minho shifts on his feet, shrugging. “I never said your names.”

More laughter seeps out of the group of people, including Chan, and Minho finds himself laughing along this time, shaking his head at his own stupidity. 

He sits beside Chan on the couch while Hyunjin heads to the kitchen with you. He quickly asks him how he came to be friends with you in the first place. Chan explains that he’s been in a class with Jisung for almost two years, and the boy had always pestered him about ‘old people’ needing to hang out with people their age. That’s how he ended up meeting Soojung as soon as she became Jisung’s girlfriend. You and Eunha were an inevitable addition, seeing as you were not only roommates but also great friends.

You offer Minho a beer, which he declines. As much as he wanted to, no beer was worth having to take the bus back home. He silently sips his cola as he watches your group of friends chat. You end up sitting beside him on the couch, your friend Hyunjin to your right.

Minho finds that he missed getting together with people like this and didn’t even realize it. His only friends were left behind back at home, and although they were less than an hour away by bus, their busy lives prevented them from meeting in person. Minho’s favorite memories from his teenage years were having his friends over and just doing nothing for hours, talking about stupid shit until their stomachs hurt from laughing. Eating takeout on the couch with Chan and Seungmin after work came close, but they were always too tired and too stressed to entertain the idea of making jokes. Those were times when Minho realized he had really become an adult.

Jisung’s loud voice suddenly booms through the living room and startles an already drunk-looking Eunha, who murmurs something about the younger boy giving her a heart attack one day. 

“I’m bored,” he grumbles, draping his body over Soojung. “Let’s play spin the bottle.”

Soojung rolls her eyes at him, flicking his forehead. “Are you a teenager?”

Jisung pouts, sitting up straight once more. “We’re in university. University students play this fucking game all the time,” he states matter-of-factly. “Don’t make me regret falling for an older woman.”

“Jisung, I’m only three years older than you, I’m not—”

“Don’t make me call you noona.”

Soojung inhales deeply before turning to face the people sitting on the couch, placing one of the empty beer bottles scattered around her feet on top of the coffee table. “Let’s play spin the bottle. But let’s do dares instead of kissing, that’s too boring.”

Jisung beams, cuddling close to her like a needy child. Minho chuckles at the sight.

Eunha scoots closer to the couple so the group is seated in a circle around the coffee table, half of them on the couch and half on the floor. Minho never had the chance to play spin the bottle, which seemed to be such a staple game of one’s teenage years. By the time his friends were off sneaking into clubs and drinking behind their parents’ backs, he was already in a committed relationship and well aware of the fact that he didn’t enjoy parties.

It seems silly, but he’s glad he won’t live past his youth without experiencing such a trivial thing.

Soojung spins the bottle, and the neck stops facing Chan while the bottom faces Jisung.

“Take your shirt off,” Jisung waves a finger at Chan, who looks somewhat disoriented. Minho chuckles under his breath just as you do the same. You two face each other and let out a hearty laugh, your arm coming to rest on his bicep before retrieving back to your lap faster than Minho hoped it would.

Soojung squishes Jisung’s cheeks and places a small kiss on his lips. “You’re such a fucking chaotic bisexual,” she giggles, “Y’know, Chan, Jisung has had the biggest crush on you since you two first met.”

Chan shakes his head with a stifled laugh and proceeds to remove his shirt, neatly placing it on his lap.

Jisung is next to spin the bottle, this time landing on Soojung, who you dare to show her most embarrassing text. After showing the group a string of texts showing raunchy screenshots of a manhwa she’d been reading at that time, all sent to one of her class group chats which included some professors, she lets out a heavy sigh and orders Eunha to spin the bottle before any questions can be asked.

This time, the neck faces you while the bottom faces Eunha herself. With a smile, the short-haired girl dares you to kiss Minho.

He feels his smile drop at the very second the words leave her lips. This was not what he had in mind for tonight.

“What?” You sputter, “Why?”

Eunha shrugs, adjusting herself so she’s seated upright and staring right at you. “Well, he’s the only one here who would be actually fun to see you kiss. Jisung and Soojung are okay with each other hooking up with other people, so that’s no fun,” she explains, using her fingers to list her reasons, “I’m not into girls, so that’s no fun for me. Hyunjin is too obvious. We all already know Chan, so it would also be boring. Minho is like fresh meat. That is fun.”

Minho’s brain begins finding a suitable excuse for why you two can’t kiss, because he’s certain you have no interest in doing it. Not only are you friends, but your reaction didn’t exactly exude excitement at the prospect of kissing him. Just as he’s ready to lie through his teeth, you turn to him and place your hand on his shoulder, a touch so soft he’s barely able to feel it through the fabric of his shirt.

“Is this okay with you?” You ask him, the tone of your voice so sweet Minho feels like it melts his every thought until his brain is nothing but a sugary pool filled with only you. So he nods because god, yes, this is okay with him.

You gingerly place your right hand on his cheek, bringing your faces closer until your lips press together. The whirlpool inside his chest spins fast, like a vortex dragging every sense of his body toward you and only you.

You remain still for a few seconds, Minho’s eyes opening slightly to search for any sign of regret on your face. Before he can even properly look at you, your lips begin to move against his — gently and carefully, like you’re not sure if this is what he wants. Minho deepens the kiss and hesitates three times before committing to placing his left hand on your waist. The giggles around the two of you nothing but a muffled murmur to him. He presses another kiss to your lips, his body shifting until he is all but caging you against the back of the couch. But just as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you push him back with a smile, Minho chasing after your lips.

He blinks a couple of times, eyes zoning into your smudged red lipstick. He subconsciously bites his own bottom lip, wondering if any of the color transferred to him. The surrounding murmurs bring Minho back to the moment this time, awkwardly clearing his throat before lifting himself off of you and sitting upright on the couch. He tunes out every comment regarding the kiss to the best of his abilities, focusing his energy on slowing down his heart rate. When he catches you giggling while looking at him, your arm touching his bicep yet again, he nods, grabbing his cola bottle from the floor and taking a sip.

Minho can’t remember the last time kissing someone got him so worked up. He entered a long-term relationship at such a young age that he’s only now realizing how unaccustomed he is to kissing someone new, to the rush that comes with having your lips pressing against the ones of someone you like. It was exhilarating and a bit terrifying all at the same time. He was awkward, unsure where to put his hands, uncertain if you were enjoying yourself. He was also greedy, wanting the moment to last for much longer than it had.

This had cemented the fact that he does, in fact, really like you.

After kissing you, the whirlpool living in his heart had now fully transformed into a tiny hurricane — with great chances of growing even bigger.

Minho only notices the game has continued upon hearing your voice complaining beside him. He watches as Soojung shrugs.

“It’s the only thing I could think of, sorry.”

“But why?” Hyunjin asks, placing his cup on the coffee table. “It’s a stupid dare.”

The blonde girl scoffs. “No, it’s not. I’ve had to basically live with you two for the past year, and it’s common knowledge how easily you get a boner for her.”

“Not true,” Hyunjin retorts, although it sounds more like a question than an affirmation.

Eunha blurts out, “You once got a boner watching her stir a cake mix.”

Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth before groaning, pulling you into his lap by the waist. You apologize to him quietly, to which Hyunjin shakes his head with a small smile.

Minho feels as if he’s intruding on something private.

You sit on Hyunjin’s knees, almost falling off his lap as you clearly try to keep some distance between the two of you. Hyunjin clicks his tongue and pulls you closer to him until your back is pressed up against his chest. He whispers something in your ear, to which you lightly slap his arm as his lips upturn into a grin.

Minho is definitely intruding on something private.

At some point, you turn so you’re sitting across Hyunjin’s lap, your body now facing Minho. He can’t help but watch with dark eyes as the younger boy’s hands wander through your body; playing with the buttons on your blouse, squeezing your thighs, and caressing your skin a little too close to the hem of your skirt. He furrows his brows as he tries to understand your relationship with Hyunjin, seeing as you’re obviously not put off by his hands on your body.

Minho is so transfixed by the sight and his racing thoughts that he only realizes the game has ended when someone taps his shoulder from behind the couch.  When he looks back, Chan is holding a cigarette and motioning towards the stairs that lead to the house’s terrace.

In the chilly open space above the house, they sit on a bench behind a tall vertical planter. Minho wonders who tends to the garden as he observes the various flowers, as well as some vegetables and herbs scattered around him. The terrace is small; the garden taking up all the space, an old wooden railing that overlooks the quiet street the only other thing in his sight.

He and Chan chat about school and work, as they often do nowadays. After Chan recently broke up with his girlfriend, Minho found that his friend had become much more closed off, so the list of subjects they would talk about became minimal. Chan bites his thumb before taking a long drag of his cigarette. He chuckles when he mentions being scared of graduating next year. Minho bumps his shoulder with him, arguing that being in his situation is worse. He admits that he regrets starting university late and that being in his first year when he should already be in his third is discouraging. Chan dismisses his worries, reminding him of how Minho is often the one to fix broken codes and come up with ideas for their game whenever Seungmin gets stuck.

“A degree is just a piece of paper,” Chan says, throwing his cigarette butt at a nearby trashcan. “You’re already a fantastic programmer, Minho.”

“You’re just saying that because I saved your ass today.”

Chan shrugs. “You’ve saved my ass basically every day since we started working together.” After a beat of silence, he asks, “Why did you start uni so late, anyway? You never told me.”

Minho hums, digging his brain for a way to sum up the entire story. “It’s complicated—”

He’s interrupted by footsteps on the stairs leading to the terrace. A loud giggle echoes through the open space before you and Hyunjin step into their field of vision. The long-haired boy holds you from behind, and you two stagger toward the railing.

“Wish everyone would go home already so I could just fuck you,” Hyunjin whines as he turns your body around so you’re facing him. Minho almost chokes on nothing at those words, and Chan stifles a laugh with his hand. He curses the small space as they’re able to so clearly hear everything you’re saying.

You playfully kick Hyunjin’s shin. “Don’t say it like that, Hyune, what the fuck.”

“It’s true, though,” Hyunjin continues, pressing you against the railing. He towers over you, so the only thing Minho can see from where he’s seated is your white skirt floating in the wind behind the tall boy. “I had a stressful, terrible, awful, dreadful week. All I kept thinking about was coming over and relaxing with you.”

“See, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so awful.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “There’s nothing awful about fucking. I know how much you like it, don’t act so coy.”

Minho watches as your hands clench around Hyunjin’s gray shirt, pulling him closer and kissing him softly, much like you had done to him a few moments before.

Minho presses his lips into a thin line. He connects every dot available to him inside his head and suddenly feels pathetic.

Hyunjin being too obvious of a choice for you to kiss, his hands all over your body, his words about fucking you, the way you kissed him like it was a habit.

If you had a boyfriend, why did you agree to kiss him?

The words swarm Minho’s brain. He vaguely recalls you and Hyunjin eventually walking out of the terrace. Chan starts a one-sided conversation about one of his classes, with Minho humming after every couple of sentences to appear like he’d been listening when his head is too busy wondering how to feel about everything.

Minho recalls Eunha walking up the stairs and shouting for the two of them to come downstairs to sing you happy birthday. He recalls Hyunjin’s hands wandering through your body throughout the song, his lips pressing small kisses on your face and lips as you smiled. He recalls feeling confused, stressed, jealous, and pathetic.

Minho is only truly back to the present moment once Chan’s voice bids him a loud goodbye, and the door slamming behind him makes his senses finally return to him. As he looks around, he notices that the only people left in the living room are Jisung, Hyunjin, and you. Beside him on the couch, Hyunjin stretches with a loud groan.

“I’m gonna take a shower. D’you have any of my clothes in your room?”

You sigh from where you’re sitting on the floor, resting against the television stand. “Of course, I do. You’re always living shit behind, you’re like our third roommate at this point.”

Hyunjin chuckles, walking over to give you a small peck on the lips before disappearing into your room. Minho gnaws on his bottom lip with a bitter smile as he realizes Hyunjin will sleep over at your house. The ugly feelings return as he remembers his thoughts about you these past few weeks when he unknowingly cultivated too big of a crush on you. Even on his way here tonight, when he had chuckled to himself at his lack of nervousness in the face of potential love.

Love.

Minho can’t help but wonder why your view of love is so negative when you’re in a relationship. And, at the same time, he doesn’t dare to think about it for too long, fully aware that his foolish affection-filled brain will come up with a myriad of reasons — all where your boyfriend is the sole culprit for your distaste — and Minho knows better than to let those thoughts linger for too long inside his mind. He knows himself all too well, knows only awful shit would come out of assuming things about your relationship; the urge to beat Hyunjin senseless for being a shitty boyfriend and making you think that way about love being the worst of them.

“I’m too drunk to go back to my dorm,” Jisung suddenly speaks, his eyes glazed over as he stares ahead. “Gonna crash here tonight, too.”

Minho takes that as his cue to leave.

You walk him outside, a small smile on your face the entire time. He feels guilty not being able to reciprocate the gesture. As you tell him goodbye, thanking him for coming, you pull him into a hug. You hadn’t hugged much since you met, and Minho foolishly wants to draw you closer to him, to feel your body pressed against his just as it was pressed against Hyunjin most of the night. But he can’t do that.

“Are you okay to walk back by yourself?” You ask him as you pull away.

Minho nods, forcing out a small smile. “My car is parked just down the block.”

“That’s why you didn’t drink!” You exclaim with a giggle, “I forget that most people our age already drive. My anxiety didn’t allow me the chance to even try and get a license, so I just accepted my fate of taking the bus.”

“I could drive you…” Minho trails off. There he goes again, being pathetic. “If I have the time… You can give me a call and I’d be happy to drive you anywhere.”

You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another embrace. Minho smiles genuinely as he buries his head in your hair.

The drive back home has Minho feeling stupid all over again as he thinks about how you’re probably in bed with Hyunjin by now. The whirlpool is back inside his chest, but it isn’t good or welcome this time. It’s agonizing and painful.

Love had never been painful. Love had never been bad.

But he had never experienced love toward someone who already loved somebody else. Although you brazenly state that you don’t believe in it, you must feel some type of love toward Hyunjin if you’re willing to be his girlfriend.

As he silently drives home, Minho finds himself agreeing with you.

Maybe love can be bad, after all.

Minho feels stupid.

This has become a constant in his life.

He had always thought of himself as a logical person. Programming had taught him that everything is predictable and fixable if you work on it hard enough. A broken code? It may take him six hours of staring at the computer to figure out it was nothing but a missing semicolon, but he will get there in the end. It was annoying and frustrating, but it was always something easily fixed.

He thought love was like that. It had always been like that with him.

Until he fell for you.

Minho was coming to terms with the fact that maybe love and programming were nothing alike. Love isn’t predictable. Loving someone who is already in love with someone else isn’t easily fixed. He can’t backspace and delete your boyfriend from the equation.

It’s been a little over six months since you two first met. Minho has consistently gone to the café you work at every day, and you two still had endless talks over text messages. You talk about everything and anything, from silly things like sharing pictures of both your growing plushie collections or your love of that particular coffee shop’s lemon cake to more serious topics like how Minho learned how to cook when he was twelve so his mom wouldn’t have to do it by herself, and now his roommates take advantage of that, or how sad you are that next year you will have to leave the house you’ve grown to love so much.

But, whether it is in person or through text, you still avoid the topic of love. You don’t ever bring up Hyunjin unless he’s part of a story you were already telling, and Minho feels his heart heavy as he slowly allows himself to imagine what it could be that led you to hate love so much.

He desperately wants to ask you, know your reasons, and make sure you’re happy with your boyfriend. But he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries and doesn’t know how to go about it without scaring you. So he never does anything, like a coward.

Minho finds himself coming over to your sharehouse on most weekends since summer break ended. Your countless get-togethers at that house have become a hard-to-break habit. Hyunjin, Jisung, and your roommates are always assured to be there, with Chan joining whenever he isn’t overwhelmed with work or school, which was rare.

Minho had always been a hopeless romantic, always doing things for love that people repeatedly warned would result in regret. This time, it was forgoing visiting his parents and friends back home just to spend most of his summer with you. Despite not being able to pursue you in the way he truly wanted to, Minho still wanted to be your friend. You were still a fantastic person he loved to have around; that didn’t change simply because you had a boyfriend. Although he could feel a bit of his heart cracking every time he had to see you, all while knowing he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you.

He couldn’t change your perspective of love if he weren’t allowed to love you.

In all the time he spent at your house during summer break, he ended up becoming good friends with Jisung, as you tended to stick next to Hyunjin most of the time. Minho didn’t mind it; he is your boyfriend, after all. At least, that’s what he repeats to himself every night he comes over like a mantra as he almost masochistically forces himself to watch how Hyunjin kisses your lips and caresses your skin or how you play with his hair and snuggle with him on the couch. He also endures the countless nights he’s left your house knowing all too well that Hyunjin would be spending the night with you in a way that Minho can only ever dream about.

Tonight, in particular, Hyunjin seemed to be all over you like bees on honey, buzzing around you everywhere you went, his hands never leaving your body as he pulled you closer to him every time you even slightly pulled away. Because god forbid your bodies not be touching in some way for even a split second. Before he knows it, Minho is downing his third bottle of beer of the night.

From where he’s sitting on the couch, Minho rolls his eyes as discreetly as he can while he watches Hyunjin pull you to sit on his lap on the floor as you all get ready to play a game of cards. He gnaws on his lower lip because he knows he’s being petty and borderline childish. You’re Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Of course he’s all over you, of course he wants to be close to you, of course he wants you on his lap. Minho concludes with a bitter chuckle that he is, indeed, pathetic when it comes to you.

He gulps down more of the awful-tasting cheap beer.

The night comes to a close after far too many rounds of Cards Against Humanity, with Jisung winning more than half of them. His ethics and morals fly out the window the moment the cards are handed to him, as he manages to create the most absurdly offensive phrases known to men every single time. Minho found himself groaning and yelling at the younger boy as the alcohol took over his system. He doesn’t know how much of it was simply his annoyance at Hyunjin clinging to you like a koala throughout the entire game disguised as competitiveness.

He doesn’t think he’d like to know either.

Like every night he comes over, Minho is the last person to go home. He has to call an Uber, far too buzzed to want to sit at a bus stop all alone at this time of night. He hadn’t even noticed how he kept downing his drinks until he felt the familiar buzz of inebriation wash over his body a while before the game ended. Although slamming his fist into the coffee table with a whine about how he had only been given lame cards should’ve been a sign.

As he waits outside your house by the fence, he suddenly hears the door shut behind him and your voice calling out to him. He smiles at the faint slur of your speech and the way you drag out the last syllable of his name like you always did when you were a bit drunk.

“I told you to wait for me!” You reprimand, opening the gate to stand next to him. “Look how lonely you look here all by yourself.”

Minho just shrugs with a smile, shaking his head. He did wait. He waited almost half an hour after announcing he should leave as you disappeared into your room with Hyunjin. He was still waiting, in fact, only mindlessly scrolling on his phone for the past ten minutes instead of finding a ride as he hoped you would come outside when you saw he wasn’t in the living room anymore.

You poke his shoulder, bringing his attention away from his phone to your smiling face.

“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it? Especially that last round when Hyunjin won after being tied with Jisung for the whole game,” you grinned, “Seeing Jisung make a whole damn case about how much better his card was really made my night. Think that’s the first time I’ve seen him act like a law student since I met him.”

Minho chuckles, bringing his attention back to his phone. Seeing your smile and how your eyes light up while you talk about something you like brought back the whirlpool inside his chest, which wasn’t a pleasant feeling any longer. It made him glum to think how a once beautiful feeling had turned into nothing but discomfort simply because he was lovelorn.

He hums. “You must be proud to have your boyfriend put an end to Jisung’s annoying winning streak.”

“What do you mean?”

Minho looks up from his phone, eyes wandering through your puzzled face. He furrows his brows for a second. Maybe you’re both drunker than he’d thought.

“I mean, it must’ve been nice to see Hyunjin win after Jisung basically made us all want to quit the game,” he explains, watching as your expression turns from confusion into shock before you let out a loud laugh.

Minho’s eyes widen, worried your laughter might wake up your neighbors. He gently shushes you, his arm grabbing your shoulder, but your smiling face only makes his lips stretch out into a grin. He suppresses a giggle as you catch your breath, shaking your head.

Minho smiles at you so fondly he’s certain he looks like an idiot. “What’s so funny?”

“Hyunjin isn’t my boyfriend,” you explain like it’s obvious. “We’re just friends. I thought you knew that.”

Minho only then realizes he had never once heard you refer to Hyunjin as a boyfriend, nor had any of the people around you. But his assumptions weren’t so ill-judged, either. You two acted like a couple. It wasn’t so absurd to assume that you were one.

He finds himself staring at your amused face for a few seconds before forcing himself to turn his attention back to his phone.

You acted like a couple, but you were just friends. Minho groaned mentally.

“So, you’re like friends with benefits?”

“Yeah… I don’t particularly believe in love anymore, Minho. I thought you knew that from our talk a while ago,” You chuckle, shifting on your feet. “Hyunjin is one of my best friends. We just hook up ‘cause it’s convenient.”

Minho hums, his fingers ghosting over his phone screen. “Sounds like you’re running away from love.”

He blinks a couple of times as he takes in his own words. He would have never said such a thing if it hadn’t been for the liquid courage flowing through his veins.

You shrug, moving to sit on the white bench just outside the house. “Well, yeah, that is what I’m doing. Love hasn’t been kind to me at all. I have no interest in going after it, only to be hurt again. It’s a movie I’ve watched before and I hated the ending every time.”

Minho bites the inside of his cheek, finally clicking the button to find a ride, his thumb pressing on his phone screen more forcefully than he intended. He felt angry. You didn’t deserve to settle for a friend with benefits due to convenience. Had you wanted to be in that situation, it was your every right to do so, but you were in it out of fear of being hurt.

He felt sad. He wished you didn’t equate your past experiences with love to everything it could be. Bad experiences in love were possible for everyone — even for him, who used to believe unwaveringly that love could never be hurtful — but that didn’t mean it was all there was to it. Minho desperately wanted to show you that. The good side of love, the side that made him put it above everything else in his life on so many occasions, the side that made him crave it even now when it hurt more than it felt good.

And, strangely, Minho felt relieved. It was a small percentage of the chart of current emotions he was experiencing, but prevalent nonetheless. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he felt happy Hyunjin wasn’t your boyfriend and, most importantly, that you weren’t stuck in an unhappy or toxic relationship, as he had so often feared.

His ride arrives, and he’s overcome with a wave of courage. Minho would much rather live with regret than with a constant ‘what if’.

Shoving his phone inside his pocket, he offers his hand to you, who looks up at him curiously from where you’re sitting on the bench before taking his hand. Minho pulls you to your feet and hugs you. With his hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer to him, finally holding you tightly the way he’s always wanted to do. He presses a kiss to your head, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering, “I’m gonna change your mind.”

He feels your body shake with a chuckle, but he only tightens his hold on you.

“What?”

“About love, I’m gonna change your mind,” He answers matter-of-factly, “You deserve to feel love without being afraid.”

Minho pulls back from the embrace just enough to see your face, and he’s surprised to find you smiling up at him. He smiles back.

“I will change your mind.”

Minho had just dropped you off at your house, ready to drive around aimlessly until he absolutely had to go back to his dorm, when Seungmin texted him.

Kim Seungmin: hey my sister’s engagement dinner is tonight Kim Seungmin: and i might have fucked up something in the code i was working on so now there’s a chance that you fish 100 rare fish at once 🤪 Kim Seungmin: pls pls do me a solid and fix it before chan sees it and kills me? Kim Seungmin: love you hyung 💚

Minho initially groaned at the messages, thinking of the many ways in which he could murder Seungmin and get away with it. But, ultimately, he didn’t want to go back to his dorm anyway, so he gladly turned his car around. If he was lucky, this would take hours and he would have a valid excuse to crash in Chan’s cramped living room.

He punches the code to the front door and his friend greets him with a puzzled expression.

“I forgot to do the, uh, troubleshooting for this week,” Minho blurts out. It’s the first lie he can come up with, and he hopes it’s convincing enough. Chan nods slowly. Seungmin might have saved him from having to endure his roommates on a Saturday night, but he still owes him.

“It’s all good,” Chan says with a sigh, “I’m most likely gonna pull an all-nighter designing these new characters. Anyway, how did you waste your time today?”

Minho has been taking you on what he likes to call Subtle Dates for a month now.

Chan affectionately calls them Waste of Time Dates.

Minho rolls his eyes, sitting down on his own desk. “We went to Han River and walked around till sundown, then watched the Banpo Bridge water show.”

Days like today were rare, so Minho was happy. Most weekends, it seemed as if the whole world was conspiring against anything he planned with you.

“Oh, how romantic of you,” Chan gasps, feigning amazement. “Did you at least kiss her this time?”

“You know I can’t just kiss her like that. I know she’d freak out if I tried to do anything romantic with her,” Minho taps his fingers on his desk, knowing he sounds ridiculous. But he has a plan. He just hopes this plan actually works out soon. “I don’t mind being patient.”

He hears Chan scoff. “So, you took her on another one-sided date and then drove her home so Hyunjin can fuck her?”

Minho’s fingers stop tapping on his desk, his hand coming down to slam on it before he can stop himself. He lets out a heavy sigh, and Chan mumbles an apology. But, the truth is, he knows his friend is right. Just last weekend, Minho dropped you off straight into Hyunjin’s arms, the younger boy waiting for you to come back in front of your house.

And Hyunjin wasn’t the only inconvenience that rendered it almost impossible for the two of you to spend time together. Minho had to cut most of your dates short due to Chan calling him about something urgent that only he could fix at work, or you canceled altogether because your roommate was upset and you didn’t have the heart to leave her alone like that. There were also times when Minho was too tired to even go out at all, like on the day of his birthday, which resulted in you coming over to Chan’s apartment and eating cheap takeout food with him and his two friends.

Minho found himself dealing with countless bumps in the road when it came to finding a way into your heart.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” Chan says hesitantly, “You clearly like her a lot.”

Minho repeatedly opens and closes the code he’s supposed to fix. He sighs. “I like her more than a lot, and I don’t even know when that happened.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” His friend explains, his face disappearing behind his own computer screen. “I just can’t see what will change if you go on dates with her when she doesn’t even know they’re dates and if she’s just gonna go home and have sex with someone else. I don’t get it. What difference does it make?”

He can hear Chan scoffing, although he tries to disguise it by clearing his throat. Minho shakes his head.

“It makes all the difference because that’s not love. I wanna show her what love is, and that it isn’t always bad. I promised her that I would.”

Chan sighs, sliding his chair toward the mini-fridge by the couch. “Agree to disagree?” He asks, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it in Minho’s direction. He grabs it mid-air, just before it hits him in the face, and clicks his tongue.

“Agree to disagree.”

Minho plugs his headphones into the computer, drowning out the noise of Chan’s pen sliding across his iPad with his brown noise playlist. But he can’t drown out the obstinate thought ringing inside his head, screaming at him that Chan is right.

Taking you out on dates — which you don’t even know are dates — doesn’t really make a difference if you’re just going to go back to your convenience with Hyunjin at the end of the day. If you think you’re just friends going out together, and you go back home at night to the comfort of sex without the love you’ve been running away from for so long, what Minho is doing truly is useless. 

It’s just like when he argues with Seungmin through their codes, screaming at the younger boy in all caps about something that’s broken, even though he knows he’s going to be the one who will end up having to fix it.

Minho’s fingers come to a halt on the keyboard.

Closing his work, he opens up Google and finds the first flight he can to Japan. Almost as if he’s on autopilot, and his brain is completely shut off. He books the flight and the cheapest hotel he can find, using almost all the money he’s saved up to move out of his hell of a dorm. It might be the most idiotic thing he has ever done in his life, but he’s so in love it hurts him. And he loves love, and love with you — the thought of that alone has his heart beating at his throat. He doesn’t want to keep on with these futile attempts at trying to make you see that love is good and that, maybe, love can be good with him.

The truth is, he feels scared. Maybe even more scared than you do. He is terrified of knowing the answer, of finding out that maybe he could change your mind about love but that it would simply lead you to someone else’s arms and he would have to endure the pain of unrequited love until it inevitably faded away with time.

Minho would gladly live with that pain if it meant you were happy.

But he needed to know.

He adjusted his glasses — a childhood nervous habit that returned after he started wearing them more often since you complimented him months ago — and retrieved his phone from his backpack.

He typed and deleted more times than he’d like to admit.

Me: Hey, it’s late sorry  Me: Just wanted to know if you’d be up for a trip to Japan? Me: In two weeks Me: For study purposes Me: We’d finally have the chance to use what we learned in class lol Me: Chan was supposed to go with me but he has a family thing so he can’t anymore Me: Everything’s already paid for and he said he doesn’t mind if you go in his place Me: Lmk what you think

Minho’s fingers typed as his brain came up with excuses and lies, sending more messages than he needed to. He couldn’t tell you he booked a whole damn trip with you just to see if maybe, possibly, you have feelings for him too.

He all but throws his phone across his table after turning on Do Not Disturb. He’ll need to muster up the courage before reading your answer, and having his phone buzz for anything that wasn’t your reply would just be torturous. He felt stupid, would feel even more so if you turned down his invitation. He almost doesn’t want you to answer, wants to pretend he never even sent anything.

Because it was stupid.

But love is stupid, and he is in love.

Worst-case scenario, he’s stuck with Chan in Japan for a weekend while he laughs at him.

Best-case scenario, he spends a weekend with you in Japan. No letting you go back to another man at the end of the day, no more hiding that he is taking you out on dates, no more distractions, no more inconveniences of your daily lives.

Minho opens the code he was working on again, quickly typing out:

// NOTE: Minho will fix this.

#stray kids #stray kids fic #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fic #lee know fluff #lee know #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #stray kids x you #skz #fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know imagines #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut

[tightjeansjavi]

snooze

A/N: this is all @corazondebeskar fault 🥺

~Word Count: 717~

Summary: Joel loves to nap

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: none, domestic fluff, soft!joel, peepaw!joel and a sprinkle of angst, readers nickname is honeypie and lady, reader has no physical descriptions (given the content of my blog, all fics are +18 minors dni!)

The last thing Joel Miller ever expected after the outbreak was finding himself in a domestic situation where he had the luxury of fucking napping.

He loved to nap.

Sometimes he’d fall asleep in the porch chair out on the back deck with the sun warming his face. He’d set his guitar down to the side, cross his arms over his chest and mumble about how he’s just gonna rest his eyes for a few minutes.

When you come outside to check on him, he’s snoozing, soft snores slipping past his plush lips. Face relaxed, and the once permanent furrow of his brows is no longer present.

Sometimes after dinner he’d situate himself on the couch with you and Ellie on either side of him while he lets Ellie pick out a movie to watch. He’ll argue that he won’t fall asleep..this time. But between the blanket draped over his legs, and Ellie curled up with her head in his lap, he’s dozing off with his head resting on your shoulder.

His favorite time to nap is arguably right after lunch. Specifically Sunday’s because it’s the one day out of the week where he’s not on patrol, and he gets to spend his whole day with you.

The sunroom is a new addition that he and Tommy built together. There’s a built-in bookshelf along the wall that is brimming with all different genres of books. There’s even some house plants. The main star of the room is the cozy chaise lounge. It’s a bit faded, and has seen better days, but he loves it.

His eyes are already droopy when you move to get up from the spot you were sitting on. He loved it when you would read to him, and today’s book was Wuthering Heights.

“Where you goin’,honeypie?” He rasps, peeking one eye open to look over at you.

You place your hand over his covered knee, squeezing it gently before you lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek, and then his lips. “Laundry is probably done by now. I’ll be right back, okay?” You brush away a few strands of his soft curls. He’s been growing his hair out lately, and the grays in his beard are more prominent. You’ve never stopped loving this man, and he’s never stopped loving you.

“Hurry back, please. Miss you already.” He murmurs, lips curving into a lazy grin.

He’s a sap. A real softy now that he has no reason to fear. You and Ellie, and this town have turned a lion into a house cat.

“You’re a real softy, Joel Miller.” You whisper and brush away a few stray breadcrumbs from his patchy beard.

“Mhm. ‘S’cus’ of you, lady.” He teases gently.

You peck his lips once more, lulling him to close his eyes. Rest, Joel. You have all the time in the world to sleep. To love. To relax. To live. All the time, my love.

His lashes flutter as he sinks further into the couch, awaiting your return so he can snuggle with you once more.

Taking care of the laundry and tidying up the kitchen takes all of 10 minutes for you to complete. You find yourself thinking about the days when 10 minutes could either mean life or death. 10 minutes used to feel like 10 seconds. To run. To hide. To fight. 10 minutes now felt like 10 hours. 10 years.

You and Joel fought hard for this life of peace and not a day goes by where you don’t feel grateful for it all.

When you return to the sunroom, one of his legs is sticking out from under the quilted blanket, and he’s sprawled out entirely. His skin holds a warm glow from the trickling sunlight coming in through the windows.

He senses your presence even in his light slumber, and his arms subconsciously reach for you.

I’m here. You reassure him as his eyes open, droopy with sleep. He looks scruffy and soft at the same time. A big ole teddy bear; all yours.

Missed you. He murmurs softly as his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you back against his strong chest.

Missed you too, Joel. You melt into his warm embrace. Heartbeats steady, calm and at peace.

Two house cats basking in the sunlight, bellies full, and hearts warm.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications!

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x you #joel x reader #soft!joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller drabble #joel the last of us #joel miller fic #post outbreak joel

[regulatedstrawberry]

I woke up to this little treat

4k hits?? You guys are AWESOME. Thank you so much for reading my fic! Absolutely cannot wait to share the next chapter with you!

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #miles tails prower #amy rose #silver the hedgehog #cream the rabbit #team chaotix #knuckles the echidna #sonic fanfiction #strawberry talks #reaching new heights fic

[satorhime]

. ･｡･ self checkout ࿐ nagi seishiro.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content ㆍ﹒fluff, aged up!nagi, pro footballer!nagi, height difference (reader is shorter than nagi), shopping trips, slightly suggestive, established relationship. f!reader. w.c. 2k & not proofread.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis ㆍ﹒nagi enjoys running errands if the two of you go together. & ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: baby’s first blue lock fic !! honestly i’m supa nervous bc i haven’t written 4 them before n i’m still figuring things out but i hope u enjoy reading this anw <333

“this date is so tiring,” nagi laments for the fifth time since you stepped through the automated sliding doors of the neighborhood supermarket. he blows out a breath from his puffed cheeks, sounding as if he is on the verge of collapsing while you browse the shelves for pantry essentials and late night snacks. “when can we go home?”

a trendy song from a summer spotify mix croons over the tinny speakers overhead, its bubblegum pop lyrics interrupted every now and then by a cheery voice advertising new items and upcoming discounts. the supermarket is busier than when you and seishiro usually stop by, which isn’t all that surprising considering it’s the end of the day. college students carry armfuls of instant ramen and sugary sodas for study sessions and old ladies browse for medicinal teas while parents push full carts of groceries, ignoring their wailing children who press their little noses against the frosty glass of the freezers, begging to be given overpriced ice creams locked away inside.

and you resist the urge to roll your eyes with exasperation, glancing over to where your boyfriend leans heavily on the handle of the cart he has been tasked with pushing for you— his long fingers tapping away at a mobile game on the screen of his phone.

“that’s because,” you begin, wagging a finger at him when you turn around and toss an item into the bottom of the cart. “it’s not a date, sei. i told you that i had to run errands today and you insisted on coming with me when you hate it.”

“‘s’boring at home when you’re not there, so it seemed like a good idea at first,” he shrugs, rolling the cart further down the aisle when you’re on the move again. slothy, midwinter gray eyes drag lazily over your body— taking in the way your faded t-shirt (which is, really, just one of his old ones) rides up a little on your body, exposing the cute little dimples in the soft part of your back as you stand on your tiptoes, struggling to reach one of the higher shelves in the freezer section.

you are well aware that nagi hates daily tasks. things such as making the bed in the morning, washing the dishes after dinner, or visiting the laundromat once a week requires too much energy from your drowsy footballer boyfriend, but it makes you happy to know that he tries, even if he falls asleep while doing it; that he will do anything if you are involved, and nothing if you aren’t.

like right now, he abandons his mobile game and the shopping cart in the middle of the aisle without care to come over and help you, making a mother of two-under-two glare at him viciously. he snorts, sliding his hand into the back pocket of your denim shorts, a romantic comedy habit of his when the two of you are walking anywhere together. nagi’s head tilts cutely to one side, blinking owlishly up at the shelves. “which one d’you wanna get, shortstack?”

“i am not short,” you huff, twisting your mouth to one side at his teasing, but you point to the item you want— an assorted pack of ice lollies. “shelves are designed against short people. and i dunno— are we in the mood for ice cream or popsicles?”

it’s hard to make a decision because freezers full of summer treats line both sides of the aisle. tubs of gourmet gelatos, variety packs of creamy ice candies, and an endless selection of mochi with custard fillings in the middle that make your mouth water at the thought of bringing them home with you.

“i’ll eat them no matter what anyway,” he shrugs, unwilling to be the one to choose, but then his gray eyes glance down at your lips, then back to the items in front of you. you swear that his eyes darken to a stormier color, even though his expression never changes. “you make cute sounds when you suck on ice pops, and you always taste sweet after. get those.”

and then he faces forward, browsing the selection of ice creams with interest, as if his words didn’t short circuit a current in your brain. you’ll never understand how seishiro can say the most outlandish things so casually, only to return to what he’s doing while you’re left attempting to calm your fast heart.

“ice pops it is,” you say, a little winded. “make sure to get the second pack, and not the first.”

“mhnn, why’s it matter? the second one’s farther back. they all look the same to me.”

“they’re not. the first is one everybody has touched or returned.”

“that . . . makes sense,” he considers it, then he nods, lips formed into a little ‘o’ shape. “okay, we’ll get the second one.”

you watch as he steps forward, pushing the first pack of ice lollies aside to select the second as you requested, reaching the item with ease and heavens, it’s moments like these when you are reminded just how much bigger seishiro is. he’s always towered over your shorter height and it’s so, so unfair how he uses it to his advantage, making your tummy burn at the sight. frosty air wafts from the open door of the freezer, bringing chills over your heated skin. “‘s a good thing i was here, since you’re so little— there was no way you could reach it.”

“‘m not little,” you mumble, all pouty because nagi is squishing your cheeks between two finger pads. “you’re just so tall. it’s unfair.”

“want me to be shorter?” he asks, and before you can ask what he means, nagi drops the pack of ice pops into your hands and deflates dramatically, bending down to drape himself over your frame. his head tucked against your shoulder, the footballer’s milky fringe tickling the skin of your neck as he closes his eyes. “man, now ‘m even more tired.”

“seishiro, you’re heavy.”

“i know,” he sighs, eyes shuttering below thick lashes, but he makes no effort to move away from your body. instead, his hand slithers under your shirt. making you shiver because his fingertips are dewy and cold from the arctic blast of the freezer and the frozen treat he picked up. you hiss, squirming under his touch as his fingers trail across your belly. “but i’m tired ‘n’ you feel s’soft, like a pillow.”

“nagi, off,” you wheeze, his extra weight making it hard for you to properly breathe. it’s easy to forget how solid he is, straight lines of athletic muscle that usually has you cow-eyed and cooing, as long as it’s not weighing you down in the middle of a supermarket. you try to shake him off, but the midfielder only squeezes you against his body even tighter, his slightly damp lips pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “we’re never gonna get anything done like this, you lazy boy. if you don’t wanna walk, go wait in the sitting area with the grandpas.”

he sighs in defeat and shakes his head, pressing his lips together in that cute frown he pulls whenever he’s thinking. then, he’s dropping his arms from you suddenly. “mmhn, got a better idea.”

“and what’s that—”

you face nagi, only to catch your boyfriend with one foot in the shopping cart as he tries to hoist himself over the railing and inside of the basket.

“sei, you can’t fit in there—!” your eyes flicker between him, and the elderly man judging the two of you at the other end of the aisle. “you’re too big.”

“you’re always saying things like that,” he says, and the innuendo intertwined in the words flies over your pretty head because with one boost, he’s hopping over the railing and sinking into the cart, the metal rattling in protest. you stand there, dumbstruck as he settles. “now i can stay with you without walking.”

“yeah, but now that means i have to push you,” you grumble. “i should leave you here and get a new cart.”

but it’s hard to refuse when your boyfriend is that cute. his impossibly long legs are folded against his chest so that he can fit inside the shopping cart comfortably, taking extra care not to crush any of the delicate items surrounding him. the lower half of his face is buried into the collar of his soft hoodie as he absently chews on the drawstrings, but you can still see the sanrio bandaid you put on him yesterday after he got a nasty elbow to the cheek during football practice.

even though you two are already receiving strange looks from other shoppers passing by, you grip the handle, pushing the cart and your boyfriend dutifully, rolling it onto the next aisle.

“you look ridiculous,” you tell him, but you’re grinning. “but here, you’re on list duty. what do we need to get next?”

nagi’s eyes dutifully scan over the shopping list open in the notes app of your phone, his fingernail scrolling the screen lightly.

“it says ‘ramen because my greedy athlete bf keeps eating it all’ so y’need to get . . . oi, you mean me—”

“i wonder who wrote that there,” you whistle innocently, plucking the device out of his hands, wheeling him away fast.

the rest of your shopping trip is a blur, except for you turning a corner too fast and nearly dumping him out of the cart or the weird looks shoppers continue to give you because by the time you’re lining up in the queue, nagi is buried under the items because he takes up too much space. there’s a bag of rice on one shoulder, a pack of ramen on the other and fresh radishes sprouting from the snowy peaks of his head. not to mention, he’s still holding the pack of ice pops, condensation dripping over his hands.

“you’re making them melt, sei.” because he runs hot a heated blanket in the summer, and you can sympathize with the poor popsicles being defrosted in his big hands.

“‘m gonna eat one so they won’t— oh, hey this one is lemon,” he says, prying open the cardboard lid and tearing open the plastic wrapper of a lemon crème ice pop. tongue peeking out to lick before he’s holding it over his shoulder for you to taste next. “try it. i don’t sound as cute as you when i eat them.”

“sei, you’re not supposed to open those before we—” but nagi pushes the cold treat between your lips insistently, your eyes rounding wide, whining in protest as the ice pop hits your sensitive teeth. but it does taste good— creamy, sweet and sour flavors coating the surface of your tongue. “oh, it’s sh’good. we should get another pack.”

“see? y’make the cutest sounds when you suck it.”

“shut up, seishiro.”

you begin placing the items on the conveyor belt, listening to the irritating bleep, bleep, bleep of the scanner as the cashier rings up each product. you’re not frugal, but you peep at the total on the screen every now and then with a wince.

“that’s it for you, or are you buying the man in your cart too, ma’am?” the cashier asks, glancing at nagi as he finishes off the melting ice pop in the shopping cart, chin resting on top of his knees.

“no,” and you giggle, cheeks warming as you roll your eyes in exasperation. “this one is already mine.”

#little novels. #nagi x reader #nagi x you #nagi fluff #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk fluff

[strawberrysturniolo]

I genuinely want a Matt or Chris with someone older fic. Like a well done, met at work/on set… they need to impress her because she’s older and she’s just trying not to flirt back but totally is flirting … but needs to be secretive because it could cost her a job.

But he’s just so obsessed with her in the best way and his brothers can tell even though he won’t admit it

someone older

summary: chris reaches out to a new photographer in hopes of taking Fresh Love to the next level, but they find their attraction to each other too difficult to hide

part two

I’ve been in LA pursuing photography for a few years now. Coming out of college with my dream in the back of my head only made me hungry for that spot in this career field. It’s hard to be taken seriously sometimes, but I’m grateful for the opportunities LA has brought me, along with the clients who are just as invested in their careers, and are in a position to want to have me there to take them to the next level.

That’s exactly how I was approached by Chris Sturniolo, YouTuber and entrepreneur. I scrolled through my Instagram DM’s one day, checking the requests to go through any work opportunities I needed to work out. That’s when I stumbled upon a request from Chris, explaining his desperation as he tries to expand his clothing brand, Fresh Love. His message expanded on the fact that he wants to take things to the next level, reaching higher heights and satisfying his goals the way he hasn’t been able to in the past. 

“I need a better photographer,” he said. “And you have exactly what I need.” 

Count me in.

The money he was offering was another good reason for me to say yes, but I was more drawn into the fact that he models most of his own clothing. It’s easier for me to do a shoot with him considering it’s his brand and he knows what he wants. We won’t have to worry about his visions not coming to life as clearly through models who are just there to get their money from Chris, rather than someone who actually cares about the brand's success. 

We had been messaging back and forth over Instagram, working out times that would be best along with a location. I invited Chris over to my apartment, where a room was set with studio lights and backdrops to satisfy the shoot he was looking to complete.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled as he carried a box of Fresh Love gear into the room. 

“Cool right,” I smiled, positioning my camera in the center of the room.

He gazed at the backdrops – one plain white, one with oranges covering it, and one with scattered hearts, all of which matched some scheme of his brand. 

“This is amazing,” he added. “Even better than what you sketched out.”

“It was a pretty simple idea, just had to be executed right,” I shrug, not wanting to take too much credit for a simple job.

I let himself get situated in the room, grabbing a few different items from the upcoming drop and letting him get comfortable. 

Upon receiving his message request and working out a time for us to have this photoshoot, I did find myself watching a few of his YouTube videos to get a scope of his personality. I had never heard of this kid before. I wanted to make sure some creep wasn’t going to come to my apartment. Unfortunately, that has happened in this industry. 

I noticed how talkative and chirpy he was in these videos, but now that he was in my home, it was like something changed. He was suddenly quiet and closed off, almost like he was feeling shy. The last thing we needed for this shoot was him feeling uncomfortable. There was no way any of these photos would come out alright if that were the case. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” I offer. “I have some water, soda, iced tea…”

He nods, his focus on sorting through his things. “A soda would be good, thanks.”

I left the room and let him get situated while I got him something to drink. I had to admit, this kid was cute. I was only a few years older than him, but there was something about the fact that he was so driven in his career to pursue this project that I found myself attracted to. At 25, it’s safe to say most guys don’t think like that, but somehow at 20 he has things figured out for himself. 

I came back with a drink for him, noticing that he had changed his shirt into one of the upcoming drops. “Oh, I like that a lot!”

He looks down at his shirt, smiling back up at me. “Thanks! I suck at drawing, so I have to be really detailed when I try to pitch ideas to my creative team. Luckily we’ve got a good crew there so it isn’t too hard.”

I nod as I listen to him, finding myself fascinated. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m gonna have you stand in the middle of the backdrop, right where that X is. I’m gonna take a few test shots, so don’t worry about posing or anything. I’m just checking the lighting and the angle.”

He listens closely to my instruction, following just as I said. He pulls at his clothing a few times, trying to let himself be comfortable. Then, he looks down at the X, then back up at me. It’s like his entire demeanor changed. There was an entire switch in him. He looks up at me with these… dead eyes. Staring into the lense of the camera in a way that has me sucking in a breath. 

Jesus Christ. 

I clear my throat. “Yeah… just… keep moving around a little. I’m still doing some test shots but don’t stand too still. I need to see if we need more lighting in certain angles.”

“I got you,” he nods, now swaying his body around a little bit as he tries different angles for me. He takes instruction well, making this a much easier process than most. Not to mention he’s nice to look at. 

“Alright,” I stand straight again. “We got our lighting and everything settled. Is there anything you want me to take control of or do you want to be in charge here? It won’t offend me if you want to have more creative control since this is your brand after all.”

“I have a few ideas,” he says. “But once I get those shots I want, you’re free to do whatever you think looks good from your side of things. I really appreciate this by the way.”

“Of course,” I smile at how sweet he’s being, truly grateful for me taking time out of my day for him even though this is my job. He’s paying well too, so I can’t complain too much. 

Chris relays some of his ideas to me, taking a few shots then checking behind the camera to look at the photos so far. He smiles as his vision comes to life, thanking me over and over again for today.

He stands shoulder to shoulder to me, and I have to keep myself focused. “I like this one here,” I point out a shot of him with a pair of sunglasses on, a playful smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah, that one’s sick,” he agrees before heading back to help me switch out the backdrops. 

Somehow along the way we find ourselves talking about my career, mostly with Chris wondering how I got to LA and what drew me to photography. The conversation continues through the next set of photos until we can’t stop talking and it starts interrupting our shoot. 

“You want to take a little break?” I suggest. “We can order some food and talk while we look over the pictures so far? See what you like and what you don’t so we can make the final shots right.”

He almost looks shocked that I would ask him that. “Yeah, that sounds really good actually.”

I laugh at his reaction. “What’s that face for?”

“I usually don’t get asked if I want a break. It’s just… go go go until the day is over. This is nice.”

“Well, if you want to do more shoots with me… you know my rates,” I tease. 

He follows me to my living room where we order some food and set up my laptop, exporting the photos. I delete some of the blurry ones, and others where the lighting is too crazy for the clothing to be seen. After the poor photos are disposed, we start taking a closer look at the ones that might make the cut.

“I like this one a lot,” I point out, zooming in on certain elements of the picture. “The pose is really good, but the look on your face sells it. You’re a natural at this, you know?”

His cheeks turn a pink color. “Thank you.”

“I’m serious!” I continue. “Something special about this is also how you model your own clothes, and if anyone else does, it’s friends and family. People like that. You have a unique creative mind. This thing is gonna go places, Chris.” 

He smiles at me, a cheesy, dorky smile that I can’t help but smile back at. 

“You make it easy,” he praises me instead. “You’re great at this but I’ve never felt so comfortable with a photographer. Plus, you’re nice to look at… so I guess that keeps me wanting to stare at the camera… or what’s behind it, I guess.” 

There it is.

I knew I wasn’t going crazy. I saw the way he was looking at me, and this just confirms it. 

“You’re sweet, Chris.”

He gives me a soft, tight lipped smile before turning back to the computer to take a closer look at the photos. “You know, I was wondering if you wanted to try a few pieces on and take a few pictures in them? I also have a polaroid camera we can do a few with. Or maybe some together would be good?” 

I smile at his suggestion, playing into it. “You’re suggesting this after I just praised you for doing this on your own?” 

He shrugs, a bit of confidence washing over him. “Some of these pieces would really suit you, and you’re too pretty to be hidden behind the camera.”

“Okay,” I nod. “I’m in.” 

An hour passes, which soon turns into two. We spent the time talking about ourselves while we ate, learning more about each other and our careers. Despite Chris being this funny, loud character in his YouTube videos, it’s obvious that he’s extremely smart as a businessman. He knows what he wants, and he’s going to make sure he gets it. 

We head back into my studio room, setting things up again. 

“Try this shirt on,” he says, holding a shirt out to me.

“Are you sure?” I ask, not wanting to interfere with his creative ideas. 

“Absolutely.”

I take the shirt into my hands, pulling off the one I’m wearing without a care considering I have a tank top on underneath. Chris watches every movement, waiting for me to put his shirt on instead. 

“It looks good,” he nods, licking his lips before standing behind the camera. “Go ahead and stand on the X like I did. Give me some… over the shoulder looks.”

I smile at his attempts at conducting this photoshoot. He sounds adorable, but it’s also hot knowing he has his business brain going. I do as he says, looking over my shoulder with a certain look on my face that is working wonder’s for him.

“That’s it,” he mumbles, taking a few shots before peeking at me over the camera. “Give me some more.”

I do a few different poses as he praises me for my work. 

“You look better in these than I do,” he breathes out.

“That can’t be true,” I deny, walking behind the camera to take a look at what he’s gotten so far. 

I have to say, the gray Fresh Love sweatpants he’s wearing aren’t doing the best job of hiding what’s going on in that head of his. 

I look through some of the pictures, hearing his breaths gain strength next to me. “Why don’t we take some together like you suggested? I can set a timer and it’ll do a flash of a hundred at a time.”

He nods. I take his hand in mine and lead him back in front of the camera. “Is this how all your shoots go with clients?” he asks quietly.

“Only the cutest ones,” I tease. 

I move him around until I find a pose that works for us, settling on me sitting on the floor in front of him with him behind me. His hands rest on me, a simple feeling that I had been aching for all day. 

We spent about 10 minutes posing together, alternating between us standing in front or behind each other until we decide to take a few looking at each other. 

“This could be a good way to tease the new drop,” I say. “Just a few shots of the sides while we’re looking at each other.”

He nods, willing to do anything I offer at this point. 

We stand with our chests almost touching, our faces close enough to feel each other's breathing pattern. I hear a flush of photos being taken, a small smile growing on my face while I look at him. As the photos continue to take, he makes his move. 

Suddenly, his hands are on my face, holding me closely as he kisses me hard. I wasn’t expecting this in the slightest no matter how much I was hoping for it. The photos continue to capture the moment as it grows more heated, his tongue finding a way into my mouth until I’m falling backwards and he’s catching me at my lower back. 

He pins me against the backdrop, funnily enough, the one covered in red hearts. 

He pulls back with a sharp inhale, catching his breath. “I’d been thinking of doing that since I walked in.”

“Took you long enough,” I tease. 

“Shut up,” he mutters, placing his lips back on mine. “You’re distracting me from my work.”

“I think you were doing just fine,” I assure him. “Great, even.”

“Mmm,” he hums, a mix of pleasure and satisfaction from my compliments. I smile at the sound of the camera going off, which makes Chris pull back from me. “What?”

I point behind him, watching as he focuses on the camera, and it continues to flash, capturing his smirk while my lipstick is all over his face. 

I can’t wait to look at these later. 

tag list: @freshloveforthefit @lacysturniolo @mattitties @floofparker @javalakers @creamoncreamoncream2 @heebiejeebiezz @sturnswrites @runupthathillgirl @gdsvhtwa @666hellokitty420 @runupthathillgirl @oliviasturniolo21 @keira324 @sstvrnioloo @sturnitup @sturnsvoid @theyluv-meee @therewilljustbereputationts13 @ilovedasturniolos @dancemomsfanee @rootbeerworshiper @sturn3ol0 @swaggygirlboss123 @lustfulslxt

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo

[two-white-butterflies]

peaches - am. targaryen

Description: Your father decided to marry you to the elusive, Aemond Targaryen. After a year of marriage, he still refuses to acknowledge your existence - that is until after Criston Cole becomes his son's teaching instructor. Cole isn't only interested in teaching your son. (MODERN AU) Rating: Mature 18+ (breast play, jealousy sex, desk sex, slight breeding kink, size kink, spit kink because it wouldn't be an aemond fic without it.)

There was nothing to love - no personality or show of appreciation. He kept to himself and expected you to do the same. "Aegon, please calm down." you mumble aware of Aemond's gaze from inside his office. "I wanna go swimming!" the child demands staring at the pool with his adorable purple eyes.

Aemond has shown no interest in helping you raise his son. He's there for parties and events - there when the child has a nightmare, but when it comes to Aegon's day-to-day activities - he's absent. You sigh. Aemond is a great father, but he's occupied with his work.

"We have to wait for the instructor, ñuha tresy." you smile, adjusting the skimpy swimsuit that you wore. It was revealing - it exaggerated the best parts of your body, while hiding the parts that you hated. Any husband wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you - but he was able to. Aemond has never touched you before - not even a strand of your hair. "Please, I won't go in the deep parts." he promised, jumping up and down with excitement.

A laugh escapes your lips, not trusting the little boy.

You lean down to his body - pushing a strand of his hair away from his face. "Have patience, little one." you answered firmly, prompting the boy to give you his best puppy eyes. You were about to allow him down the pool but someone clears their throat from behind you.

Criston Cole was staring at you - specifically your endowments. Your posture shifts as your body regains it's full height. He had that porno look in his eyes. The one that a man has before fucking a girl in a pornhub video. You didn't like it - you felt disgusted.

"Well, Mr. Cole will take care of you now." you walked to the side - gathering the robe on the daybed. You walk away from the pool - trusting the maids to supervise your step-son.

Completely unaware of Aemond's gaze.

He tried to focus on the mountains of paperwork on his desk - but he couldn't. His mind was elsewhere. He imagines you wearing that red swimsuit. The fucking swimsuit that you bought for him - the swimsuit that he should be the only one looking when you wore. He sees the way Criston Cole stares at you.

He places his pen down, opening his venetian blind slightly to watch his son learning to swim. You were standing there again - hovering over them with a blue-towel on your hands.

His son wasn't learning to swim - he was on top of a fucking floater while the instructor ogled at your breasts. His grip on his fountain pen tightens, spilling ink on his brand new pants.

He'll fucking gouge that man's eyes.

He reaches for his telephone, dialing his sister. "Helaena, are you there?" he pauses waiting for his sister's reply.

"Yeah?" she questioned.

"Can you escort Mr. Cole to his car? We won't be needing his services any longer." he commands, earning a snort from his older sister. "Is this because of his wandering eye?" she inquired, and he could hear the faint sound of someone slurping milkshake on the other line.

"If you have a problem with him staring at (your name)'s body, then you should fire all of your house-staff." she taunted, not telling the full truth - but also wanting to see how the situation would turn out. You were a pretty little thing - the eye-candy inside the Targaryen manor.

Everyone but Aemond seemed to be engrossed with you.

"What?" he interrogated, voice suddenly raising with anger. He could imagine all of his servants staring at you, watching you strut like a model on fashion-week.

"Fire Mr. Cole, right? I'm on it." she promised, ignoring his outburst and hanging up on him.

You were annoyed with everything.

Annoyed with Aegon singing his favorite nursery rhyme while underwater. Annoyed by your husband's lack of emotion and annoyed with Cole trying to talk to you.

Helaena comes to save you.

"Mr. Cole." she looks down with her sweet voice. "Yes?" he asked, pretending to hold little Aegon. "The maids have prepared your towels and the shower that you will be using. We do not need your lessons anymore." she announced and his face falls flat on the ground. "What? That's impossible - Aeg doesn't know how to swim yet." he defended but Helaena's thin-lipped smile proved that he wasn't doing shit.

"We can have that arranged, but as of the moment we have no need of you." the woman added, one of the maids held unto the boy while Criston emerged from the pool - mumbling strings of insults.

There were three rules before your marriage to him. One, don't do anything that would ruin his reputation. Two, remain loyal to him. And three, never go inside his rooms.

This was your first time stepping on the carpet that was outside his office door.

"Aemond." you call out.

The door opens automatically and you welcome yourself inside.

He doesn't stare at you - or even acknowledges your existence. He keeps on jotting down his notebook. "Did you have to fire Mr. Criston? I don't like him but Aegon adores him." you ask in a soft tone, careful to not offend him.

It was impossible to offend him - no matter how hard you tried, he always kept his cool.

"He's incompetent. There's no room for that in my household." he replies in a cold tone, continuing to sign a few bands of contracts. "I suppose," you look around the room - scanning around his decor. There were pictures of history around the walls - the beginning of industrialism and the decline of tradition.

He was a man of the arts - and you didn't know that.

You knew nothing about your husband. How fucking stupid.

" - and don't wear that swimsuit again." he added after a deep breath. Your eyebrows merged into each other. He wasn't going to tell you what you could and couldn't wear. "I beg your pardon?" you inquire.

He looks up from his paper - and unto you. The girl who was still wearing the said swimsuit.

"It's not appropriate." he asserted through gritted teeth. He couldn't understand why he was riled up at the thought of other man staring at you - and your round and perfect peaches. "What is appropriate to you? I cannot wear my pajamas around the pool." you responded in a brash manner, his eye widens at your show of rebellion.

"You can wear a bikini but not around men." he tried to reason, navigating himself around the labyrinth of his own reasoning. He didn't make sense. "Not around you, then?" you take a step forward, dominating over him in front of his desk.

He stands up, reaching for the collar of the bathrobe that you wore - he pulls your body closer, merging his lips with yours.

What is his is yours.

His money, his empire, even his son - but you were only his.

His to fuck. His to breed.

A moan escapes your mouth as you began climbing over the desk. Kneeling but you weren't able to reach his height. Your head only reached his eyebrows. "He was staring at you, huh?" he asked, slowly untangling the strings that held your top.

With a tug of a string, your breasts were revealed to him. Taut and bouncy, like he imagined them. His hands fondled your breasts, playing and teasing them. He lowers his head, sniffing your neck and placing a nipple inside of his mouth.

He was sucking you - like a newborn babe searching for milk.

"Aemond." you moaned, pulling his head closer.

His right hand trails down to your mound, teasing it through the cloth. "You are mine." he announced, pressing kisses on both of your breast - alternating between the two of them. "Yours." you replied, his hands untangling the string that held your bottom - letting it loose.

He frees himself from your grasp, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. He lowers his boxers - freeing his cock that stood tall and proud. Your eyes widened at his length - it was going to fit, but it was going to hurt.

You sit properly on his desk, legs wide open as you welcomed him. "Do it." you demanded earning an amused chuckle from the business magnate. He places a hand on your face - cupping your cheeks. He inserts a finger inside your mouth, allowing you to suck on it as his cock enters your hole.

It was pleasure - breath taking pleasure.

Your grip on his shoulder tightens, telling him to go deeper.

"Harder." you moaned.

He complies with your order, lifting your leg to reach the top of his elbows. "Fuck - shit." you cursed, entering a new realm of pleasure. There were stars in your eyes. You hold unto his shoulder, eyes gazing up to interlock with his.

His eye was beautiful.

It was a deep shade of lavender.

"Keep moaning and I'll cum." he threatened, pulling your body closer and rocking his desk. The paperwork was forgotten - all in favor of his beautiful girl. "Cum inside of me." you moaned again, feeling his length prod inside your cervix. "You want to give our son a sibling?" he chuckled darkly.

"Yes!" you moan. His cock was reaching places you didn't believe was possible.

You hear the desk rock loudly - like an earthquake. Your leg falls on his side, and he raises the other one over his shoulder - slightly tipping your body to be lying down. "Oh - Aemond!" you scream feeling otherworldly bliss.

His hands squeeze around your cheeks, staring at your face - mouth wide open with lust. "Who owns you?" he asks, squeezing it tightly. "You do!" you answer, and he smiles.

Rocking on a steady rhythm.

"Open your mouth, princess." he commands and you follow him, opening wider. He closes his mouth - gathering the spit on his tongue, releasing it on your mouth. "Swallow." he ordered and you obeyed him - the faint taste of whiskey lathering inside your mouth.

"I love you," you confess feeling a hot sensation in the bottom of your stomach. "I love you to, princess." he replies, merging your lips together as thick ropes of cum populate your ovaries.

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #the one eyed prince #prince aemond targaryen #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targayren fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fan fic #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd smut #hotd angst #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fan fiction

[poisonlove]

can you write a fem reader x tara fic where reader is anika’s best friend or sister or something and anika wants to introduce reader to the group

Oh yes, I really like the idea, haha. I just hope you like what I've come up with. Sorry for the delay, but sooner or later, I'll write every request. 😊

The night we met | t.c

tara carpenter x reader

"Excuse me, sorry," I uttered with difficulty, trying to navigate through the crowd.

I found myself at the fraternity party in New York, immersed in the atmosphere of loud music and an air filled with a mix of sweat and grass. It was Halloween, and the guys were dressed up, adding a touch of eccentricity to the party. The noise of laughter and music served as a background as I struggled to make my way through the crowd, eager to reach my destination amid the festive chaos.

I released a sigh of relief as I made my way through the crowd, and finally, in the center of the party I saw a familiar scene. My best friend, Anika, was sitting on a small couch with a girl. It was clear that she was Anika's girlfriend considering how Anika had her legs stretched over hers, and the girl's hand was absentmindedly caressing Anika's leg.

I approached with a smile, happy to have found my destination amidst all the festive chaos.

"Hey," I said smiling at my best friend. Anika gave me a beautiful smile as soon as our eyes met.

"Mindy... this is y/n, my best friend," Anika introduced, pointing in my direction. "y/n, this is Mindy, my girlfriend," she announced, smiling broadly and giving a playful look to her girlfriend.

"Pleasure to meet you," I said in a loud voice, trying to make myself heard amidst the party's noise.

"The pleasure is mine," Mindy replied with a smile, looking at me with curious eyes.

"Cute costume," she noted immediately, looking me up and down with a mischievous smile. "Certainly... frightening," she added laughing under her breath.

"Thank you," I replied, slightly embarrassed. Perhaps Harry Potter wasn't the most suitable choice for this situation, now that I think about it.

"I'm going... going to get something to drink," I said, leaning toward Anika, who nodded in agreement.

I made my way through the crowd again, heading towards the drink counter a few meters away. While walking, a girl who was dancing accidentally elbowed me, making me lose my balance and collide with someone.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," I immediately said after regaining my balance, looking up to apologize to the person I had bumped into.

When my eyes met hers, I was mesmerized. Before me stood a girl dressed as a pirate, with brown hair cascading to her shoulders.

"Don't worry, it's fine," she said calmly, indicating that she was unharmed by our collision. Her eyes, glazed from alcohol, analyzed me more closely.

I responded with a slightly embarrassed smile.

The girl with a smile on her face approached me even more causing my heartbeat to quicken. The height difference between us became evident as we looked into each other's eyes. Her presence, heightened by the festive atmosphere and the effect of alcohol, created an aura of curiosity and excitement.

The pirate, tilting her head, raised her hands to my face. With a confident and gentle gesture, she adjusted my round glasses.

"There you go, much better," she said laughing softly.

"TARA!"

The voice resonated in the chaos of the party and I immediately turned my gaze towards the sound. I saw Tara turning, revealing her well-defined jaw, upturned nose, and full lips.

"Everything okay?" Mindy asked, directing the question to Tara and showing a slight concern as I turned to see.

Tara's brown eyes turned back in my direction, radiant with brightness and fascination. "Let's go get something to drink, Pottah," she said, smiling widely, and a slight giggle escaped when she pronounced "Potter" with an English accent.

"That's what I wanted to do, Elizabeth Swann," I replied, amused.

Tara raised an eyebrow with curiosity, her scrutinizing gaze fixed on me. "Swann?" she asked with genuine curiosity. "Oh... it was a reference to Pirates of the Caribbean, you know... like a matching costume to your pirate outfit,"

I was grateful that the room was relatively dark, allowing me to conceal my embarrassment.

Tara chuckled softly. "Got it, I was teasing you." She raised a hand, shaking it timidly while she spoke.

"Could I have another?" she asked the person behind the counter, genuinely smiling. It was only then that I realized Tara already had a glass in her hand.

"There's none left," the guy behind the counter replied.

And that's when a certain guy approached with a flirtatious smile. "Hey beauties... I'm Edward," the guy said, but he only looked at Tara. "Y/n," I said, annoyed. "Tara," the girl replied with a smile on her lips.

My eyes rolled slightly without making a sound.

"In the kitchen, there's something to drink... if you want," Edward affirmed, giving me a dazzling smile t

Tara and i along with Edward, made our way to the kitchen to get something to drink. As I took a sip, the strong, bitter taste of alcohol made me scrunch up my nose. Meanwhile, Edward was openly flirting with Tara, creating a tense and uncomfortable atmosphere that made me wish I were elsewhere.

The guy put an arm around Tara's waist, causing clear discomfort to the brunette.

It was clear that the guy wanted to take Tara upstairs. With a pleading look, Tara asked me to help her in that embarrassing situation. Her expression reflected a mixture of discomfort and hope as she sought a way out of that embarrassing situation.

"Hey!" I said seriously, putting my hand on Edward's arm.

The guy, obviously tipsy, looked at me confused, smiling mischievously. "If you want to come too, I won't complain," he chuckled quietly.

"Let go of Tara," I said seriously, tightening my lips at the disgusting proposition. "She doesn't want to," I added, shooting a glance at the pirate.

"Potter..." Edward muttered weakly. "I'll make her change her mind," he concluded, smiling.

"Tara! Let's go home," Anika intervened, looking at the guy attentively.

"He won't let her go," I said nervously, noticing how Tara looked at me with bright eyes, perhaps trying to hold back tears.

"Tara stays here," a guy intervened. Mindy was next to him.

a statuesque cowboy.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion thinking that maybe he was the pirate girl's boyfriend.

"Come on, Chad... we just want to have some fun," the guy said, his face red from alcohol.

"She stays here," the guy reiterated seriously, approaching the stairs.

Edward, climbing two steps, made Tara lose her balance, clearly not wanting to follow him. The sudden movement surprised her, and her expression reflected a combination of fear and disorientation as she tried to maintain stability. Edward's firm grip on her arm seemed more like an attempt to drag her than a supportive gesture, adding an element of constraint to the embarrassing situation Tara found herself in.

Tara grimaced, trying to hide the pain as Edward insisted on dragging her up the stairs.

In the blink of an eye, the situation escalated as Chad grabbed Edward by the shirt, attempting to force him to step down. Edward, trying to retaliate, eventually let go of Tara. With a swift motion, the pirate sought refuge in my arms, trying to regain balance after the unexpected turmoil. The tension in the air was palpable as gazes clashed, with Tara still a bit disheveled but clearly grateful to have escaped from that unwanted aggression.

"Take her outside," Anika said seriously. Without saying anything, I found myself walking with Tara against my body toward the exit of the house.

Outside, silence reigned supreme, broken only by the occasional passing car. The starry sky shone, and the full moon illuminated the night. The cold made Tara shiver slightly, enveloped in the quiet of the evening.

"Are you okay?" I asked with concern.

Tara looked at me, smiling and nodding.

I decided to take off my tunic, a sort of jacket I was wearing, and offered it to her. In short sleeves and jeans, I noticed the cold was starting to be felt a bit.

"Take this, it might help you warm up," I suggested, offering my tunic to Tara in the hope that it could give her at least some comfort.

Tara raised the corners of her lips, putting on the coat I had given her and looking at me with a grateful expression.

She swayed slowly towards me, resting her hands on my shirt. Her gaze was directed at me with her chin slightly lifted. A mixture of vulnerability and gratitude reflected in her eyes.

"Thank you," she said timidly.

My cheeks tinged with red due to the proximity, and Tara smiled sweetly. With a sloppy attempt, the girl tried to stand on tiptoe, causing a laugh from me for her effort.

Tara pouted, but it was amusing to see the slightly tipsy girl.

Tara's hands moved gently on my face, removing my glasses.

With a smile on my lips, I watched as the girl pushed her glasses up on her head, looking at me curiously. My smile faded when I saw Tara lean forward, eager to press her lips to mine.

"Tara... you're drunk," I said, smiling amusedly. "And I'm a girl," I clarified, not wanting Tara in her state to overlook the situation.

For heaven's sake, I was gay, but I didn't want to kiss a drunk straight girl.

"And so what? I've noticed," she replied, smiling, biting her lower lip. "I just want to kiss you," she affirmed, amused.

Her hand caressed the lightning-shaped scar on my forehead. "You're extremely sexy with this costume," she murmured.

"You have a boyfriend," I said with a slightly irritated tone, remembering a certain Chad. Tara gave a wide smile, shaking her head. "I don't have a boyfriend," she said amusedly.

"In any case, you're drunk," I reiterate, amused, sensing how Tara smelled of alcohol and most likely a perfume."Maybe you can give me a kiss when you're conscious of your actions," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

"Pottah, kiss your Hermione," she blurted out with a smile on her lips, and I rolled my eyes at her comment. "Actually, it's Ginny," I said, smiling slightly. "Whatever it is," mumbled Tara.

"Another time," I added, smiling at her amusing behavior.

Tara sighs loudly and leans against my chest, wrapping her arms around my body in search of warmth. My eyes curiously scanned the exit of the house, but the smile faded from my face when I saw Anika's eyes looking at me mischievously from a distance. Her girlfriend did the same, and the only one confused was the guy next to them.

Oh, crap. I'm in for an unpleasant interrogation.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream 6 #party dress #drunk #Tara drunk #jenna marie ortega

[sixosix]

THAWED | LYNEY X FEM!READER SERIES

THAWED (MASTERLIST) — the lyney childhood-enemies-to-frenemies-to-lovers-kinda series that no one asked for, ft. fluff, a whole lot of bickering, flirting, and everything in between

STATUS. mostly updates on sundays

OTHER INFO.

DISCLAIMER. will contain spoilers. this series will be as dark as genshin lore can be, and this won’t strictly follow genshin’s actual lore—i’ll be making up a lot of stuff for the sake of the fic so there will be inaccuracies, NOT CANON COMPLIANT!! there’s no previous director, the timeline of events will be vastly different. each chapter will have their own warnings as well, so keep an eye out for that!

NOTES. hello, everyone !!!!!!! welcome to my lyney series inspired by taylor’s reputation album. how it works is each chapter will be titled after each song off of the album as u can see below,,, hope u enjoy reading as excited i am for rep tv!! :D

tysm to naosaki and kruinka for helping me brainstorm w this fic (and also helping me when i was visibly all over the place because of this series) also kruin u owe me something remember that &lt;3

CHAPTERS.

i — are you ready for it?

The House of the Hearth was perfect. This was where you thrived—where no one else could take this feeling away. But then Lynette became a part of the ‘family’, and with it, she dragged along Lyney.

ii — i don’t wanna hurt you (i just wanna be)

You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.

iii — you gotta leave before you get left

Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.

iv — for you i would fall from grace

“What now? What do you want me to do? Strut back into their lives and demand all their Fatui secrets as if I never left?”

Aether nestles into his seat. “Prove to me that I can trust them just as much as you do. Who knows, you might get something out of this, too.”

v — you must like me for me

Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.

“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”

vi — look what you made me do

You frown at him, your face upside down in his view. “That was unfair.”

“I have to be if I want to beat you.”

vii — all eyes on you, my magician

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even once when his fingers reached out to fish out a champagne flute. Lyney still has that stupid smile on his face, the rim of his glass against his lips. You’re hit with the startling realization that you want to kiss him.

Fuck, what?

viii — you’ve ruined my life, by not being mine

“You’re so warm,” you murmur to his skin.

Goosebumps blossom all over his body. Your face brushes against the side of his neck. “Do you hate it?”

“I like it. My hands are cold. Every part of you is warm.”

ix — us traitors never win

Lyney knew that this would happen. He knew well enough to predict what ‘Father’ would make them do, but still—

“We understand,” Lynette says, her eyes darting down to Lyney’s clenched fists.

The Knave stares at Lyney, and the strength of her stare has Lyney lowering his eyes to the floor. “Do you?” she asks. They wisely stay silent: Lynette’s hesitance and Lyney’s frustration. “Then I trust this won’t happen any longer.”

more chapter previews soon...!

FANART !!!!!!

our favorite akagi0021 has been blessing me with THAWED fanart (!!!) and i decided that i need to compile all of them for me and to make YOU see the art as well... BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD (with permission of course)

CH 1 | reader's new outfit reveal

CH 2 | lyney doesn’t know how he looks at reader

lyney and MC height difference before and after AAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHH IM ON MY KNEES theyre so cute

CH 4 | aether and paimon confronting reader

bonus fanart of lyney and reader after training :(( so cute

CH 5 | lyney seeing reader!!!!!! aahhh his eyes

lyney as a kid and then lyney now (grown up) THIS ONE IS INSANE. little lyney is so adorable but then look at the lyney now… 😵😵

CH 6 | LOOK AT THIS ONE!! scene of lyney saying “she’s hiding something” except akagi made him unnecessarily sexy wtf

CH 7 | drunk reader driving lyney crazy... (i went crazy)

CH 8 | "lyney's not my boyfriend" ; the ending scene with childe, aether, and reader!! they all look so good T__T

++ ADDITIONAL!!!

and look at this so so so adorable collection of doodles of chapter six by sunny @emanami !!! her artstyle is to live for its SO cute (look at the siblings!!!)

look at @lacrimae-lotos's version of mc!!!! SO CUTE look at her piercings and her eyes aahhhh

akagi's art dump from different chapters | theyre all so cutue im sobbing i love akagis mc and lyney so much T__T (LYNEY BRAIDING MC'S HAIR)

++ LOOK AT AKAGI'S VERSION OF MC! shes so lovely

design headcanons (theyre all so precious)

akagi's reader as a genshin char !!

reader's outfit for chapter seven SO PRETTY

TAGLIST.

@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz @auranny @motherscrustytoenailclippings @lovelyevil @iawaaaaaaa @rionah @esmetrees @cherryig @kzhwaif @mystiquemare @unknownlolol @sanluvssu @blvdmrcnry  @kascar-chronicle @idontevenknow129 @tarathecogsci @lunavixia @beaniedoodz @wendolrea @avalordream @egoistars @rains-mae @magnificentfireball @poemzcheng @fiannee @ask-kurayami-akura @sc4rlett-letter @xxxion @wangshuu @deathkat657 @powchakko @beasalmeh, and many more!

just ask through my inbox!!! and make sure that people can tag you pls!!

© SIXOSIX 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or reproduce any part of this work.

#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin impact series